Because It Was Mount Hua (5)
The next morning.
No, it was barely dawn—too early to even deserve the name “morning.”
The doors of Baekmae Hall swung wide open.
“Morning.”
“Aah. I’m tired.”
“A.
I.
Goo. At this rate I’m gon.
na die.”
It was an ordinary start to an ordinary day, and the words were no different from any other day.
And yet something was definitely different.
Their steps, which usually dragged like those of dying patients, now carried a subtle strength. Even the voices complaining about exhaustion sounded unlike before.
And then there were the glances they kept stealing to the side, each one tinged with some unreadable emotion.
“All right, let’s work hard at training again today.”
“Mm. Right. It’s tough, but.”
“Yeah. It’s tough, but we have to work hard.”
Without a single complaint, they headed to the storeroom. There, they picked up their training tools and went out to the training grounds.
Heh heh heh. Light. So light.
It feels like I’ve got strength surging all through my body!
Is it really okay for just me to eat something like this? I feel bad for the senior brothers and sisters.
Heh heh heh heh. I had no idea Junior Brother Chung Myung thought so highly of me. To give me such a precious elixir…
The disciples kept sneaking looks around them.
If they find out I was the only one who got an elixir, the senior brothers will feel hurt, won’t they?
I do feel a little bad, but elixirs aren’t something you can just find lying around. Only the people who get them should take them.
I wonder if anyone besides me got one?
Their heads were all spinning in different directions. Since Chung Myung had told them never to speak of the elixir, they couldn’t let the truth slip even by accident.
They were all wearing awkward expressions, but not one of Mount Hua’s third-generation disciples could have imagined that everyone present had taken an elixir.
Why?
Because it was simply too rare. To get enough elixirs for all the third-generation disciples would cost more than a thousand nyang of silver. And even if they somehow had that much money, there was no guarantee they could actually buy the elixirs at all.
Why would Chung Myung go mad enough to procure so many elixirs and hand them out to every one of them? The disciples themselves knew they weren’t worth that much.
He gave me that precious elixir!
Hngh! Something’s all hot and fired up inside me!
What’s more, those who had eaten the elixir could feel its effects clearly. A hot current kept rising from deep within their bodies.
They hadn’t even absorbed all of the elixir’s power yet, but if they already felt this way, then the moment it was fully digested, their fatigue would vanish and their internal energy would surely increase dramatically.
Motivation rose on its own, and their hearts began to pound.
Thunk!
Just then, the door to Baekmae Hall burst open and Chung Myung strode out. The third-generation disciples, spotting him, quickly straightened into formation.
“Mm.”
Looking at the scene, Chung Myung smiled in satisfaction.
Good.
Their eyes were shining. So brightly, in fact, that the third-generation disciples’ eyes looked even brighter than the dawn star hanging in the sky.
And why wouldn’t they be?
To Chung Myung, it was just some elixir he had no use for and couldn’t even be bothered to sell, but to them it was a precious medicine that money couldn’t buy.
If they knew that the elixir Chung Myung had given them wasn’t made by some nobody, but was in fact the Maehwadan that had existed alongside Mount Hua’s history, their reaction would have been twice as intense.
Turns out he was a good guy after all.
Krrr. He’s generous, too. To hand over such a precious elixir…
Loyalty! Loyalty!
The third-generation disciples looked at Chung Myung with heated eyes. Their fervor was so intense that even the notorious Chung Myung had to take a step back with an awkward expression.
So this is why the senior brothers would hand out elixirs now and then to the disciples who wouldn’t listen?
Chung Myung was learning in his bones that people couldn’t be managed by a whip alone.
“All right, then. Shall we start cleanly again today?”
“Ooooh!”
With a jerk of his chin, Chung Myung pointed toward Yeonhwabong.
“Go punch it.”
“Uraaachaaaa!”
“I’m first today!”
“Move! I’m going!”
Watching the disciples race toward Yeonhwabong in a swarm, Chung Myung snickered.
This’ll be easy for a while.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Something’s strange.
Un Geom narrowed his eyes.
Before him, the third-generation disciples were swinging their wooden swords as usual. There was nothing especially different from what he had always seen.
And yet Un Geom’s sharp eyes had clearly caught the change.
Their sword paths are steadier.
They were performing the same forms, but the sharpness and stability were unmistakably different.
Un Geom’s eyes narrowed further as he looked at the third-generation disciples.
Their lower bodies have changed.
There was power in the way they planted their feet. With stronger footing, their upper bodies didn’t sway; with the upper body steady, weight naturally settled into the tip of the sword.
That was a good thing.
For the tip of the sword to remain steady meant they could execute the sword techniques they wanted with precision, did it not? Since the whole point of repeated practice and refinement was ultimately to perfect the sword forms, this was an excellent change.
But one thing still bothered him.
Can something like that really happen in such a short time?
By his estimate, they should have needed at least another year to reach this level. That was the absolute minimum. Realistically, two or three years would not have been strange at all.
And yet…
“Taat!”
The sword sliced through the air.
Oh?
“Uraaaaah!”
The stomp planted on the ground shook the earth.
“Huh?”
Un Geom let out a dumbfounded laugh before he could stop himself.
It was a good thing that his disciples had improved. But he simply could not understand how something like this had happened.
Could it be that dawn training?
Un Geom’s gaze shifted to Chung Myung, who was swinging his sword at the very back of the formation.
…
No matter how he thought about it, that was the only possible reason.
There was no need to think deeply. The third-generation disciples’ martial ability had suddenly risen after Chung Myung arrived. More precisely, it had happened after Chung Myung began training them.
Un Geom’s brow furrowed.
Does that kind of training really work so well?
He hadn’t allowed the training because he expected anything remarkable. Chung Myung had offered several reasons, but the true reason Un Geom had permitted it was that he was pleased by the thought of the third-generation disciples training on their own initiative.
Of course, there had also been the practical benefit of securing more training time for himself.
I only thought it would be good if it raised their motivation a little.
And yet it was producing results beyond motivation. Dramatic results, at that.
What’s more, the third-generation disciples themselves seemed to realize that their skills were growing, and they were training with a level of zeal that was completely unlike before.
“Hoho.”
It felt strange.
Since he had taken charge of Baekmae Hall, how long had it been since he last seen disciples learning swordsmanship from him with eyes burning so fiercely?
How shameful.
He could only reflect on himself. The disciples were throwing themselves into training with such motivation—had the instructor teaching them, Un Geom, truly possessed that same level of passion?
Had he not, somewhere along the way, become irritated by the work he had no choice but to take on?
Un Geom let out a low sigh. He could not deny it.
Even though I knew the disciples were Mount Hua’s future, I had neglected the work of caring for that future.
The more he thought about it, the more ashamed he became. He felt ashamed before his disciples, and even more so when he thought of the Sect Leader, who had trusted him enough to leave this task in his hands.
“Taaaaaaat!”
The swords all pointed toward the sky at once.
Seeing that, Un Geom nodded.
“Good!”
The praise came straight from the heart.
“The tip of every sword is alive.”
He didn’t know what more there was to say. Un Geom’s gaze shifted to Chung Myung at the very back.
It was strange.
Mount Hua itself hadn’t changed all that much. And yet ever since Chung Myung arrived, everything had begun to change.
Even the sect’s financial crisis—the one that had tormented Mount Hua for so long—had been solved in absurd fashion, and the third-generation disciples were training with a passion unlike anything in the past. Not to mention the fact that their skills were visibly increasing.
Was all of this coincidence? Or…?
After a short moment of thought, Un Geom spoke.
“As you all know, by the established rules, you are to fully master the Seven Sages Sword before learning the Taeul Mystery Sword Art. However, it is clear that you have all been training with great enthusiasm lately. So if you continue as you are now, I intend to break that rule and teach you the Taeul Mystery Sword Art ahead of schedule.”
“Oh!”
“The Taeul Mystery Sword Art in Baekmae Hall!”
As the third-generation disciples began to murmur excitedly, Un Geom smiled lightly.
Reward those who work hard. Those who receive rewards work even harder. If that cycle could be sustained, these children would grow into sword masters who could represent Mount Hua.
“So when you train, do not allow even a moment of laziness!”
“Yes, Hall Leader!”
“Good. Then this time, train in the True Six Harmony Sword.”
Their spirited answer echoed thunderously through the training grounds. Un Geom smiled with satisfaction.
That was when someone approached the training field with quick, decisive steps.
“Is Un Geom here?”
When Un Geom turned, he was startled.
“S-Sect Leader?”
Hurriedly bowing, Un Geom looked at Hyun Jong with a puzzled expression. It was exceedingly rare for Hyun Jong to come to Baekmae Hall’s training grounds. After all, wasn’t he always buried under a thousand pressing matters?
“You’ve worked hard. I have something to tell you, so would you spare me a moment?”
“Of course, Sect Leader.”
Un Geom turned and shouted to the third-generation disciples.
“You will continue practicing the True Six Harmony Sword—”
“Practice the Seven Sages Sword for now.”
“…”
Seeing Hyun Jong cut in, Un Geom gave him an odd look. Still, assuming there must be a reason, he nodded.
Leaving the children behind, Un Geom went around to the rear of Baekmae Hall and quietly waited for Hyun Jong to speak.
“Un Geom.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“It seems there is a problem.”
“A problem?”
Hyun Jong drew a single volume from his sleeve and handed it to Un Geom. His expression was quite grave. Un Geom accepted the book and asked,
“This is?”
“A manual from that chest…”
“Ah…”
Looking back and forth between Hyun Jong and the book, Un Geom caught the sect leader’s gesture telling him to read it and hurriedly began scanning the pages.
“Sect Leader, this is… isn’t this the Six Harmony Fist?”
“It is. The Six Harmony Fist.”
Un Geom frowned.
The Six Harmony was a martial art that had once formed the foundation of Mount Hua’s power. But now it had been replaced by the True Six Harmony Fist. The old Six Harmony Fist no longer held any meaning in Mount Hua.
“Then why are you showing me this…?”
“Have you finished reading it?”
“Yes.”
“When I first found it, I did the same as you and only read the contents. I was in too much of a rush to think clearly.”
“…Yes?”
“Check the last page. There is writing on the back as well.”
“Ah?”
Un Geom hastily opened the manual again. Soon, when he saw the writing there, his face twisted beyond recognition.
The hand holding the book began to tremble violently.
To my descendants:
It is not wrong for descendants to improve and modify Mount Hua’s martial arts. Martial arts must constantly change and advance.
However, the Six Harmony is Mount Hua’s foundation and Mount Hua’s very skeleton. To alter the Six Harmony is no different from twisting the soul of Mount Hua.
I hope my descendants will take this to heart.
If there should be any wretch who dares to alter the Six Harmony, then when we meet in the afterlife, you had better be prepared.