A Monk Rolling In, Huh (1)
Bwoooong!
The sword cut through empty air.
Bwoooong!
Once again. And again.
Even after the blade was brought down from above the head over and over, not the slightest flaw appeared in its movement.
Textbook.
It was, in every sense of the word, a movement so perfect it could only be called textbook.
Thuck.
But no matter how unchanging the sword might be, the human body was bound to change.
The clothes of the swordsman wielding it were completely soaked with sweat. Each time the sword swung, the beads clinging to his sleeves scattered in all directions.
Six thousand, seven hundred, and forty-nine!
Bwoooooong!
The sword swung again.
Six thousand, seven hundred, and fifty!
Grrrrk.
He stamped the ground so hard it seemed his toes might punch straight through his shoes. Repeating the exact same motion flawlessly, without even a hair’s breadth of wobble, was less training than ordeal.
And yet this young swordsman was carrying out that ordeal to perfection.
Six thousand, seven hundred, and fifty-one!
“Sahyeong!”
Then, suddenly, a voice rang out and shook the perfect line of his sword.
Flinch.
Yi Song-baek pressed his lips together and stared at the tip of his sword.
I failed.
His goal had been to complete ten thousand flawless downward cuts. But hadn’t the tip trembled just once?
Seeing that, the owner of the voice hurriedly apologized.
“Ah… S-sorry, Sahyeong.”
Yi Song-baek wiped the sweat from his face and shook his head.
“It’s not your fault.”
“But…”
“If a sword shakes this easily, then it’s useless in real combat. It’s because my own training is lacking. I should thank you for showing me my shortcomings.”
At his calm words, Hwasodo couldn’t hide his admiration.
This man really is on a different level.
Of course, even the Yi Song-baek of the past had been worthy of the title of prodigy.
But after the Gathering of the Swords at Mount Hua, he had become someone beyond comparison with his former self. The change had been so abrupt that he had once been shunned for it, but now many of the Southern Edge disciples were trying to emulate him.
Change.
A small change, and yet a great one, had already begun.
“By the way, what’s going on?”
“Ah…!”
Hwasodo abruptly remembered what he had meant to say and nodded vigorously.
“Sahyeong. I heard Mount Hua is opening a branch sect in Xi'an.”
“Hm? Mount Hua?”
“Yes! I heard they’re building a hall right now.”
Yi Song-baek’s brow furrowed ever so slightly.
“Why are you making such a fuss over something like that?”
“No, Sahyeong! Because of that, the Righteous Sword of Mount Hua and the Mount Hua Divine Dragon are staying in Xi'an right now!”
“You mean Daoist Cheongmyeong?”
Yi Song-baek’s expression changed at once.
“Is that true?”
“Y-yes! It’s true.”
At that vehement reaction, Hwasodo was the one who became startled.
It had been a long time since he’d seen Yi Song-baek, usually as steady as a mountain, react like this.
“Daoist Cheongmyeong…”
Yi Song-baek murmured softly, then glanced down the mountain.
After a brief moment lost in thought, he seemed to regain his composure, a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.
“Truly, he’s a man who never rests.”
How much time had even passed since the Great Heroic Tournament had ended, and already he was starting something new?
You should slow down a little.
What an inconsiderate man.
Didn’t he think about the people chasing after him?
“Did the elders know about this too?”
“Yes. They know. But they didn’t really show any particular reaction.”
“I see.”
Yi Song-baek nodded silently.
Southern Edge had no time to concern itself with such matters now.
During this Great Heroic Tournament, Southern Edge had realized exactly what mistake it had made.
At this rate, Southern Edge will lose its very soul.
It seemed the sect leader had realized that as well. Otherwise, he would never have made such a daring decision.
At the very least, imposing a full year of no external activity and devoting that time solely to internal reform was not something one could decide lightly.
Some might say it was only a year. But…
No, that’s not it.
As a sect grows larger, interests inevitably become entangled with it. Even a single year of rest could force Southern Edge to suffer immense financial losses, and perhaps even cost it its influence in the world.
But hadn’t Mount Hua shown them that, without the root called martial arts, all of that was nothing but empty vanity?
Southern Edge had to reclaim its roots. No matter how long it took.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“But Sahyeong…”
“Whether Xi'an falls into Mount Hua’s hands, or Mount Hua seizes the entire world and shakes it to its core, none of that has anything to do with us right now. We must learn not the results they produced, but what they did to create them.”
Hwasodo quietly nodded.
“Yes, Sahyeong. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Yi Song-baek nodded, then picked up his sword again.
“By the way, Sahyeong…”
“Hm?”
Hwasodo hesitated briefly before speaking.
“If your personal training is finished, could you help instruct the disciples? There are many who want to learn from you.”
Yi Song-baek smiled.
“From now on, don’t concern yourself with my personal training. If there’s anything you want to ask, come to me anytime.”
“Would that be all right?”
At Hwasodo’s cautiously brightened question, Yi Song-baek gave a relaxed smile and nodded.
If it were Daoist Cheongmyeong, he would have said the same thing.
For him, personal strength didn’t matter all that much.
What mattered was not him, but Mount Hua growing stronger.
He had learned from Cheongmyeong that even if it seemed like wasting time for now, this was ultimately the faster path.
“Instead of that, let’s set aside time to train together. If there’s anyone who wants to, tell them to come to where I train starting tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll relay that, Sahyeong! I’m sure many will be delighted!”
“Good.”
Watching Hwasodo dash off, practically bouncing with excitement, Yi Song-baek suddenly remembered something and called him back.
“Sodo.”
“Yes?”
“Did… Great Sahyeong hear that news too?”
Hwasodo turned back, tilting his head.
“I’m not sure. He’s been keeping himself shut away so much that…”
“Hmm… I see.”
“Yes. Then.”
When he disappeared, Yi Song-baek let out a sigh he had been holding back.
After the Great Heroic Tournament ended, Jin Geum-ryong returned to Southern Edge and hardly showed himself at all, moving only between his quarters and the underground training ground.
It’s practically closed-door training.
There had been no shortage of voices worried about him, but unlike the others, Yi Song-baek did not worry about Jin Geum-ryong.
Sahyeong is strong.
He had seen it too.
The wall that could never be crossed in their current state.
Then there were only two choices. Give up, or attempt something beyond everything he had done until now.
Jin Geum-ryong was probably testing his wall once more. To surpass that Daoist Cheongmyeong.
Truly… he’s a man who makes life miserable for everyone.
His gaze drifted toward the far side of the mountain below.
At the foot of the mountain lay Xi'an. And in that Xi'an, Cheongmyeong was surely there.
“Next time we meet, I’m sure you’ll be different too, Daoist Cheongmyeong.”
And so will I.
And Southern Edge, too.
The road was still terribly long, but what mattered was steadily taking the first steps toward it.
And on that point, Yi Song-baek was confident he would never lose to anyone in this world.
With lowered eyes, he gazed down the mountain, then smiled and gripped his sword tightly.
Right now, Daoist Cheongmyeong is probably training with everything he has too.
He wouldn’t lose.
Because if he possessed the same burning heart and passion for his sect as Daoist Cheongmyeong, then someday he would surely reach the place where that man stood!
* * *
“Oh? Lying down?”
“…….”
Saliva dribbled from Wi So-haeng’s mouth.
Something… something’s wrong.
Stupidly.
Only now, at this point, did Wi So-haeng realize there was a massive gap between the “training” he had imagined and the “training” Mount Hua spoke of.
What was a sect’s training, after all?
Wasn’t it the proper way for those ahead to lead those behind, and for those behind to do their utmost while looking at the backs of those ahead?
But this… this was more like…
Hell?
His eyelids twitched.
His mouth was full of the sweet smell of blood, and his whole body was drenched in sweat so thoroughly that he was practically shivering from the cold.
Was training always this hard?
Of course training was hard. Wasn’t that obvious?
But the severity of the training he was enduring now was on an entirely different level from anything he had ever imagined.
I-I’m going to die at this rate.
Wi So-haeng barely managed to turn his head. And there he saw the Huayeng Gate disciples, sprawled across the ground like rags.
“Grrrr….”
“I-I’m dying…”
The ones still groaning were actually the better off.
The ones who had fainted with foam at the mouth were in such miserable shape that it was almost too gruesome to look at.
Father?
No, wait.
Hadn’t he just seen Wi Lip-san among the unconscious ones?
Was that a mistake?
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
At that moment, the sound of Cheongmyeong clicking his tongue reached Wi So-haeng’s ears.
“And you wanted to open a branch sect with this lot.”
Cheongmyeong sat with his legs crossed, resting his chin on one hand, his face utterly indifferent.
Even under Cheongmyeong’s contemptuous gaze, Wi So-haeng could not bring himself to argue.
I thought too lightly of this.
He had simply been delighted watching Mount Hua in action.
After all, he too was part of Mount Hua’s branch sect. How could he not have been thrilled to see the main sect elevate its reputation and overwhelm the other sects?
But even though Wi So-haeng had watched Cheongmyeong and his group with his own eyes, he had never really paid attention to how brutally hard they had trained.
Right. There’s no such thing as getting something for nothing.
On the opposite side from the collapsed Huayeng Gate disciples, Mount Hua’s disciples were still training.
“Your posture is breaking down, you idiots!”
“Aaaagh!”
Baek Cheon prowled back and forth among them with a face like a ghost.
This is insane.
They were already struggling just to endure bodyweight training and vomiting foam, yet Mount Hua’s disciples were carrying heavy iron weights all over their bodies and still grinding through several times their workload.
And they were still somehow fine.
“Aaaaaaah! I swear, someday I’m gonna kill him!”
“Just wait till I get stronger! Sahyeong or whatever, I’ll—!”
“We have to kill Cheongmyeong! That bastard Cheongmyeong!”
Well, of course…
They all looked like they’d lost their minds.
Still, whether they were sane or not, the fact that they could keep up that training was truly astounding.
Wi So-haeng found himself wondering if Mount Hua’s strength came not from its swordsmanship, but from the sheer toughness of its bodies.
“Still,”
Cheongmyeong glanced casually at the Huayeng Gate disciples and nodded.
“At least now you can breathe.”
“……But at this rate, teaching the disciples is…”
Wi So-haeng let out a sigh while lying face-down on the ground.
Did we think too easily about this?
Huayeng Gate was a branch sect of Mount Hua.
But now that he thought about it, Huayeng Gate had only the title of a branch sect; it was a sect far too lacking to truly call itself the branch sect of Mount Hua, which had begun to thunder across the world.
Think about it.
Huayeng Gate was supposed to be a representative branch of Mount Hua. And yet had it not been unable even to handle Jondogwan, merely one of countless Wudang branch sects, forcing it to ask the main sect for help?
Can we really do this?
Anxiety began to creep over Wi So-haeng’s face. Seeing that, Cheongmyeong snorted.
“What, scared now that you’re actually doing it?”
“Th-that’s not it, but…”
Wi So-haeng forced himself upright.
Only after barely managing to sit did he raise his trembling chin and look at Cheongmyeong.
“It’s not exactly fear… It’s just that I’ve realized how lacking we are. Whether it’s really all right to open the sect like this…”
“So what?”
“……Pardon?”
Cheongmyeong stared at Wi So-haeng with his chin propped on his hand.
“You’re pretty arrogant, aren’t you? Did you think you could make a perfect sect from the start?”
“……Of course not, but.”
“Look.”
Cheongmyeong jerked his chin toward Mount Hua’s disciples.
“A few years ago, they didn’t even look like human beings.”
“What are you talking about!”
“No, he’s not wrong.”
Even while shouting indignantly, Mount Hua’s disciples did not stop training.
“Taking in new disciples isn’t the whole story. That’s just increasing the number of members. The core of this branch opening is making Huayeng Gate itself strong.”
“…….”
“Think you can do it?”
Wi So-haeng bit his lip hard.
“I don’t know whether we can or not, but…”
Then his eyes sharpened as he looked at Cheongmyeong.
“If we endure this training, can Huayeng Gate become as strong as Mount Hua?”
“Why else would I say it?”
“Then!”
At Cheongmyeong’s confident words, Wi So-haeng’s chest straightened all at once.
“At the very least, I won’t give up.”
Cheongmyeong grinned and nodded.
“That’s more like it.”
He looked over the Huayeng Gate disciples one by one. Their eyes, at least, were still alive as they looked this way.
This might turn out better than I thought.
Heh.
Not just Mount Hua, but even the branch sect!
Senior brother!
Sect Leader senior brother!
At this point, shouldn’t you be acknowledging me too?
—A hundred years is still a long way off, you little brat. Back in my day, I mean…
Ah, forget it. Forget it!
Honestly, that old fossil!
Tch!
And so the day approached when a new branch sect of Mount Hua would open in Xi'an.
* * *