Back in My Day, It Wasn’t Like This! Back in My Day! (3)
"Grrrk."
Namgung Do-wi convulsed.
Soft-hearted as he was, Chung Myung couldn’t bear to look away from the sight and gave Namgung Do-wi’s backside a few taps with his sword scabbard.
Of course, the fact that he’d been the one to create this scene wasn’t especially important.
"You all right?"
Chung Myung clicked his tongue.
"Seriously, why go showing off? Ah, sure, you’re a genius. You are a genius."
And so what?
A snort slipped out of Chung Myung’s lips.
"You little punk. If I lined up every genius I’ve ever seen, I could go around Shaolin’s wall twice and still send three of them out to buy sweets. A genius? What’s so great about that that you keep flapping your mouth about it?"
Chung Myung’s scabbard, still tapping Namgung Do-wi’s rear, gradually grew heavier.
"Some nobody’s gotten cocky and started looking down on our kids—no, no, right, Jin Geum-ryong and Yi Song-baek aren’t our kids. Anyway, you’re looking down on them? Just because our Dong-ryong gets beaten up everywhere, you think he’s easy to bully? Someone like you wouldn’t even be able to breathe if Dong-ryong landed one on you. I’ll punch your face in!"
Beneath the sparring platform, Baek Cheon, hearing Chung Myung’s words, smiled with satisfaction.
He hasn’t been beaten up everywhere, you bastard!
And stop calling me Dong-ryong! Everyone can hear you, you damn fool!
"Wow, did you hear that? He’s really looking out for his sahyung."
"Shut up."
"Yes, sahyung."
"Close that mouth. Or I really will kill you."
"……Yes, sir."
Baek Cheon soothed his boiling temper and looked at Chung Myung.
But weirdly enough, it does make me feel a little better.
He’d just gone on and on about what a genius Namgung Do-wi was. Apparently, in Chung Myung’s eyes, being called a genius wasn’t much of a compliment at all.
Or maybe he’d said it just to provoke Baek Cheon.
Honestly, the more I look at him, the less sense he makes.
It felt like he was being tossed around by Chung Myung at every turn, and yet...
Watching Namgung Do-wi groaning on the ground, Baek Cheon found that he didn’t feel all that bad.
"Grrr......"
Namgung Do-wi staggered to his feet.
Then, with bloodshot eyes full of killing intent, he glared at Chung Myung.
"You... you damn bastard!"
At last, the foul words burst out of him.
He could endure being knocked down. In a duel, there were times when you had no choice but to let your opponent’s blade through, and as a swordsman, he was prepared to accept that. Even if his arms and legs were severed, even if his throat were cut, he was certain he could bear it without resentment.
But he could never forgive being made to clutch his groin and roll around like that in front of all these people.
Unless he erased the memories of everyone who had witnessed it, he couldn’t stop the rumor from spreading.
This would become a lifelong disgrace he could never forget as the man destined to become the head of the Namgung Family.
As the thought reached that point, it felt as though rage had swelled so high it was drilling straight through his skull.
"I’ll kill you!"
When Namgung Do-wi screamed, unable to contain his boiling fury, Chung Myung chuckled.
"You’re mad?"
"You... you damn bastard!"
"Heh heh heh."
With a broad grin, Chung Myung raised his sword.
"So you shouldn’t go around running your mouth carelessly."
"Shut up!"
"Talent or whatever only matters after you’ve properly refined it. You can’t even beat Geum-ryong, let alone sahyung. And yet there you are, all puffed up and acting like you’ve got the right to say something?"
Chung Myung tilted his blade.
"Come on then. I’ll knock those shoulders down nice and pretty for you."
"Y-you......"
Namgung Do-wi charged at Chung Myung with bloodshot eyes. No—he tried to charge.
But Chung Myung swung his sword left and right in a broad motion, stopping him in place.
"Ah. Wait, wait."
"......"
"Calm down a little before you come at me. Don’t go getting dogpiled later and then make excuses that you lost because you were too worked up."
Grinding his teeth, Namgung Do-wi took a deep breath. His rage was so intense it seemed to be steaming off his forehead, but Chung Myung wasn’t wrong. Charging at an enemy while agitated was one of the greatest taboos for a swordsman.
"Huuuu!"
With a long breath, Namgung Do-wi steadied his mind and at last lowered his sword into a stable stance.
"You’ll regret giving me the chance to regain my calm. I’ll crush you completely!"
Even with that murderous threat, Chung Myung only snorted.
"Usually people wake up after getting their heads cracked once or twice, but you’re one of those who just won’t learn, huh? Well... now that I think about it, your family’s always been like that."
That was... who again?
Ah, right. The Sword King, Namgung Cheon-myeong.
That bastard was exactly that kind of person. Arrogant to the core, trampling people beneath his feet.
"Must be pretty unfair to get beaten up by me generation after generation."
"What?"
"Nothing. Not something I should be saying to you."
It was something to say to Namgung Cheon-myeong, who was already dead and gone.
As Chung Myung waved a hand dismissively, Namgung Do-wi pointed his sword at him, eyes burning with killing intent.
"Draw your sword."
"What kind of tone is that? I’ll rip your neck right out."
Chung Myung shook his sword still inside its scabbard.
"Then make me draw it."
Namgung Do-wi decided he would not exchange another word with Chung Myung. He’d realized that talking to that good-for-nothing hooligan would bring him no benefit at all.
"I’ll show you exactly what the Namgung sword is!"
Fwoooosh!
Namgung Do-wi’s sword began to unleash a tremendous sword aura. The white brilliance swelled instantly, as though it would swallow the blade whole.
Thud!
Holding his sword low, he took a step forward.
At the same time, a fearsome pressure began to bear down on Chung Myung.
"Th-that is!"
Exclamations of shock spilled from the mouths of the sect leaders watching the duel from the platform.
"The Emperor Sword Form!"
"He’s already mastered the Emperor Sword Form?"
The swords most closely associated with the Namgung Family were the Iron Sword Twelve Forms and the Blue Heaven Boundless Sword Art.
But when one spoke of the Namgung Family’s greatest sword, the first to come to anyone’s mind was this Emperor Sword Form.
The reason such a powerful sword had never become the family’s representative style was because it was passed down only to the direct bloodline of Namgung.
It was an exceptionally difficult technique that required an enormous amount of inner power.
The Emperor Sword Form was so demanding that one couldn’t even begin learning it until after mastering the Iron Sword Twelve Forms and the Blue Heaven Boundless Sword Art. And yet it was now unfolding in Namgung Do-wi’s hands.
Terrifying momentum burst from his body.
The Emperor Sword Form was, as its name implied, the sword of an emperor.
It was a sword that subdued its opponent through the pressure and force emitted by the blade itself. It was said that when taken to its ultimate limit, it could reach the realm of will-as-form, killing by intent alone, where one could take a person’s life with nothing but pressure of spirit.
As if to prove the rumor was no exaggeration, the momentum Namgung Do-wi released was indeed tremendous.
The audience watching from all around was pressed back by that force, and even the Mount Hua disciples had to raise their own energy to resist it.
Thud!
Namgung Do-wi took another step. The swelling pressure seemed to crush down on Chung Myung’s whole body.
Feeling the force bearing down on him, Chung Myung let out a long sigh.
"Honestly, these kids these days."
Then he grabbed his sword and started walking toward Namgung Do-wi, step by step.
Namgung Do-wi’s eyes widened in disbelief.
He’s coming closer?
He was approaching while taking that momentum head-on through his entire body? And acting as if it were nothing?
Gritting his teeth, Namgung Do-wi took another step forward. The energy he emitted only grew stronger. But Chung Myung continued to advance with the same indifferent expression, as though pressure meant nothing to him.
"I’m going to teach you on behalf of your great-gre...... no, whatever, one of your ancestors. So receive it gratefully."
"W-what?"
"Basics! You little punk! Basics!"
Chung Myung’s sword came down, still in its scabbard.
Namgung Do-wi let out a sneer and raised his own sword.
What an idiot. He’s trying the same trick again! I won’t fall for it this time!
But contrary to Namgung Do-wi’s expectations, Chung Myung’s sword simply came straight down on his blade in an honest, straightforward strike.
And what happened the moment the two blades collided was a little different from what Namgung Do-wi had imagined.
Bang!
Clack!
Two sounds rang out at the same time.
Namgung Do-wi stared quietly at Chung Myung’s blade pressing against his own, then slowly shifted his gaze to his wrist.
Flop.
His wrist had lost all strength and dangled uselessly.
......Why is it like that?
Uh...
That... uh...
That shouldn’t be happening, should it?
There was no way his wrist should break from taking just one hit. That......
"These kids these days!"
Bang!
Chung Myung began hammering down mercilessly with his sword.
"Just full of fancy style and nothing else!"
Bang!
Again.
"It wasn’t like this back then! Back then!"
Bang!
"And what kind of punk half-made his lower body and calls it an Emperor Sword Form?"
Bang!
"Grrrkk."
In the end, Namgung Do-wi staggered with a groan.
His broken wrist couldn’t properly block Chung Myung’s sword. Thanks to that, Chung Myung’s blade had already smashed into his shoulder four times and passed over it.
"You want me to rip those shoulders right out for you since you won’t relax them?!"
Chung Myung glared with wide eyes.
At that moment, a loud voice boomed in their ears.
"Do-wi! What on earth are you doing!"
It was Namgung Hwang, who had been on the platform; he had finally lost patience and shouted as he sprang to his feet.
At the cry, Namgung Do-wi’s eyes flew open. Then he quickly gripped his sword with both hands and began to swing it.
Tremendous sword aura wrapped around his blade. At the same time, a terrifying momentum—
Thunk!
"......"
Namgung Do-wi slowly turned his head, blankly staring at Chung Myung’s sword planted in his ankle.
"You little bastard, and the elder is talking to you and you’re swinging your sword?"
Hey now...
This is the sparring platform, you know?
If you’re not going to swing your sword here, then where are you supposed to—
"These youngsters are absolutely hopeless. Hopeless!"
Chung Myung stepped back and tightened his grip on his sword.
"You’d never understand if I talked to that empty head of yours anyway. I’ll just beat it into your body. Then you’ll get it!"
Baek Cheon, watching from below, squeezed his eyes shut.
Something about it felt eerily familiar. He was certain he’d heard those exact words before......
And after hearing them?
"I’m coming!"
Chung Myung charged at Namgung Do-wi.
Namgung Do-wi swung reflexively, but the Emperor Sword Form, unable to suppress an opponent through momentum, was nothing more than a half-finished sword style, inferior even to the Iron Sword Twelve Forms.
"Lower body!"
Clack!
Chung Myung’s sword smacked Namgung Do-wi’s thigh.
"Kk!"
A pained groan escaped Namgung Do-wi’s lips.
"Lower body! Lower body! Lower body! Lower body!"
Tap! Tap! Clack! Tap!
"You little punk! You can’t block even one of four hits? Did you leave your brain in the clouds?"
Under the cascade of pain and abuse, Namgung Do-wi stumbled backward in a panic.
W-what speed is this......
He couldn’t even see the sword. How on earth was he supposed to block this?
"You dare retreat? Who said you could!"
Chung Myung growled, driving Namgung Do-wi back. Then he struck without mercy.
"Flank! Shoulder! Ankle! Why are there so many openings? Wrist again!"
After exposing his flank and shoulder to Chung Myung’s blade, Namgung Do-wi tried to pull back quickly. But Chung Myung’s sword precisely and swiftly smashed into the wrist he was withdrawing.
Swoosh!
Namgung Do-wi’s Blue Heaven sword spun through the air and flew upward.
At the same time, Namgung Do-wi’s body was exposed to Chung Myung, completely defenseless.
All the Mount Hua disciples sprang to their feet at once. They could already see, clear as day, what was about to happen.
Baek Cheon let out a groan.
"His head......"
A hearty battle cry cut into their ears.
"Head! Head! Head! Head! Head!"
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Chung Myung’s scabbard crashed five times into Namgung Do-wi’s head with brutal force. Taking all of it directly, Namgung Do-wi spasmed helplessly, and his eyes lost focus.
"Ah, right!"
Bang!
As Namgung Do-wi’s consciousness faded, another blow landed on his head.
"The proper order is to say it five times and hit six times."
...Why?
Unable to understand Chung Myung’s final words, Namgung Do-wi let go of consciousness with deep bewilderment.
Thud.
Looking down at Namgung Do-wi collapsed on the floor, Chung Myung clicked his tongue over and over and said with clear disappointment,
"Ah, I was going to knock those shoulders down for you!"
I really need to kick this head-obsession habit.
Aigoo!
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