How Is the World Supposed to Go On? (4)
Watching the materials pile up one by one, Im So-byeong’s eyes gleamed.
Every single one of these materials is anything but ordinary.
They weren’t legendary elixirs from ages past, but neither were they the sort of things one could easily get one’s hands on.
Shrrrkkk!
At last, from the final sack, blue gems spilled out in a glittering cascade. Im So-byeong muttered under his breath, his expression faintly strange.
“Ice Crystal, I see.”
“Yes.”
“So this is what they were trying to gather in the North Sea?”
“Yes.”
“Then it wasn’t completely a scam after all.”
“Hey, what the hell’s with you? I’ve been telling you it wasn’t from the start!”
Chung Myung glared at him, and Im So-byeong awkwardly coughed and turned his head aside.
It was the pot calling the kettle black, but then again, wasn’t there a saying that the strongest man always won in the end?
“Still…”
“Yeah?”
“There seems to be an Ice Crystal of a slightly different color?”
“Ah, this?”
Chung Myung kicked lightly at the Ice Crystals he had set aside. Unlike the others, they had a pale sky-blue hue. They were the ones that had already lost much of their potency, having been consumed in the Bishop’s resurrection ritual.
“These are the higher-quality ones. I specially saved them for you, you know.”
“……Doesn’t look like the good stuff to me.”
“Come on now. Have you spent your life getting taken for a fool?”
Of course, Im So-byeong had not spent his life getting fooled. There were precious few brazen idiots in this world stupid enough to try to swindle the Green Forest King.
Unfortunately, one of those rare idiots was standing right in front of him now.
“So now you’re going to make Honwon Dan with these?”
“Yep, that’s right.”
“Oh? Mount Hua really is something else. I’d heard the alchemy of Daoist sects was different from that of ordinary sects. So who’s going to refine it?”
“Me.”
“……What?”
“Me.”
For the first time, a tiny twitch passed across Im So-byeong’s usually unruffled face.
“You, Daoist?”
“Yeah.”
“Of all people, a Daoist?”
“Yep. I’m telling you, it’s me.”
“So…… you’re seriously saying it’s a Daoist?”
“What’s with this guy?”
Chung Myung shot him another vicious look, but this time Im So-byeong had every right to complain.
“N-no, I mean, it’s not as if Mount Hua only has one or two people. Why in the world would a Daoist be the one refining it?”
If one were to ask whether Chung Myung was trustworthy, the answer would depend entirely on the field in question.
When it came to punching people in the face, he was probably the most reliable bastard in the world. But when it came to delicate, meticulous work, he was the least trustworthy person alive.
And yet Chung Myung was the one refining a fortune-worth of pills that could decide Im So-byeong’s life. It was enough to make his stomach churn.
“Because nobody else can make this.”
“……Great Heavenly Lord above.”
Im So-byeong’s voice trembled as he unconsciously muttered a Daoist invocation.
“T-there won’t be any problems, right?”
“You don’t trust me?”
“…….”
For the first time in his life, Im So-byeong truly understood what despair was.
Kwaaaang!
Gwak Pyeong was sent flying after getting smashed by Jo Gul’s sword and let out a scream.
“Aaagh! My back!”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
Jo Gul clicked his tongue and looked down at Gwak Pyeong, who was sprawled on the ground.
He wasn’t the only one. A great many others had already fallen to Jo Gul’s blade. The third-generation disciples gathered in the training ground all looked as though they had been beaten black and blue in at least one place.
“You’re full of openings! How the hell did you train all this time and get worse instead of better?”
Jo Gul barked at them. At his sharp, stern rebuke, the junior disciples all flinched and lowered their heads.
As Jo Gul looked at the scene, a sharp emotion flickered through his heart.
This is it!
Come to think of it, no one had been more wronged than Jo Gul.
However young he still was among the third-generation disciples, he was still second in their ranking.
In other words, apart from Yoon Jong, there was no one among the third-generation disciples above him.
In an ordinary sect, even if he could not lift his head in front of the senior generations, he would at least be able to swagger a little among his own cohort.
And yet…
Of all things, I had to keep getting dragged around with those guys.
Every time something happened, he ended up tangled with Baek Cheon or Yu I-seol from the second generation, and with the single senior among the third generation, too. No matter where he went, he could never escape being treated like the youngest.
Huh?
What about Chung Myung and Dang Soso, you say—weren’t they ranked below Jo Gul?
What did that even matter, for heaven’s sake?
Anyway, seeing the faces of the junior disciples timidly afraid of him after such a long time filled something in Jo Gul that had been empty throughout the journey.
“I told you not to slack off in your training!”
“W-we really did train hard.”
“We trained until our backs nearly broke. Even Martial Uncle Un Geom acknowledged it.”
“We knew that once our senior brother came back, he’d go and act like this… I mean, get angry, so we didn’t dare be lazy for a single day.”
“You’re lying through your teeth, you little bastards!”
“We’re not!”
As the third-generation disciples cried out their grievances in unison, even Jo Gul, who had been pressing them hard, tilted his head in confusion.
“Really?”
“Yes!”
“Then why are you so weak?”
“…….”
Expressions beyond words began to spread across the faces of the third-generation disciples.
I hope he dies.
This is why I hate geniuses!
L-look at that face. He really doesn’t get it at all.
As the third-generation disciples squirmed in despair, Jo Gul blinked as though he couldn’t make sense of it.
“No, seriously. You’ve definitely gotten weaker since before we went to the North Sea.”
“We haven’t!”
“Martial Uncle Mu Gak said he was satisfied with the results of our training!”
“……What the hell is going on?”
Jo Gul fell into thought, sensing that something had gone wrong.
Right then, Yoon Jong came walking over in their direction.
“What are you all doing?”
“Ah, senior brother. You’re here just in time.”
“Why?”
“No, these guys clearly seem to have slacked off, but they’re insisting they didn’t.”
“Then scold them.”
“But Martial Uncle Mu Gak and Hall Leader Baekmae both praised them for training hard. So I’m a little…”
“Hm?”
Yoon Jong’s brow twitched once, and he held out a hand.
“Let me see it.”
“Yes.”
Jo Gul quickly handed over the wooden sword in his hand. Yoon Jong took the wooden sword in a relaxed grip and motioned with his chin at Jong Hoi.
“Come in.”
“……Senior brother. I really just got hit a moment ago…”
“Hurry.”
Jong Hoi grumbled as he got to his feet. But the moment he raised his wooden sword, a sharp killing intent surged from him, impossible to ignore.
“Chaaaaap!”
He rushed in quickly, swinging his sword toward Yoon Jong’s head.
The tip of the wooden sword split into more than a dozen afterimages in an instant, blanketing Yoon Jong’s entire body.
One.
Paatt!
Even as Jong Hoi’s sword was almost about to touch him, Yoon Jong, who had not moved a single step, let his own sword vanish with a flash of afterimage. Then, like lightning, it shot toward Jong Hoi.
Thunk!
Jong Hoi’s wooden sword flew clean out of his hand, spinning up into the air.
Clack.
Setting the wooden sword against Jong Hoi’s shoulder, Yoon Jong frowned.
“Hmm.”
“…….”
Everyone who had witnessed the scene gaped in stunned disbelief.
“In a single exchange…”
“It wasn’t usually this big a difference.”
“Good heavens, he knocked the sword away.”
To send a swordsman’s blade flying into the air with one strike was not something that could be done without an enormous difference in skill.
It made sense for Jo Gul, since he had long been recognized as the strongest of the third-generation disciples. But Yoon Jong was different. There had never been that big a gap between Yoon Jong and the other third-generation disciples.
“See, senior brother? I told you these bastards were slacking off.”
“You, be quiet.”
“…….”
Yoon Jong studied the children for a moment with a serious expression, then nodded gravely.
“I need to see Baek Cheon, Martial Uncle.”
Cling.
Baek Cheon’s smooth black hair stirred softly in the wind. His dazzling white robes fluttered with elegant grace.
He’s glowing.
He looks all fresh and fluffy.
Of course, he had never lost his cleanliness even during the long journey. But apparently that still hadn’t met his own standards.
It had only been two days since they returned to Mount Hua, and somehow Baek Cheon had already turned as fluffy and clean as a freshly molted beast.
My God, not a wrinkle in his clothes, not even a speck of dirt.
Those robes do not look like they’re made of the same material as ours. Does he have them specially made?
“What is it?”
Jo Gul and Yoon Jong, who had been staring blankly at Baek Cheon as though a halo shone behind him, jerked to attention.
I thought Hye Yeon was standing there.
Why does he sparkle like that?
Yoon Jong shook his head and spoke.
“There’s a slight problem… and it seems I need to report it to Martial Uncle.”
“Sit down.”
Baek Cheon pointed ahead of him, and the two of them silently took their seats.
“A report, you say. Surely nothing happened again so soon after your return… don’t tell me it’s Chung Myung?”
“……No.”
The moment Chung Myung’s name was spoken, the halo behind Baek Cheon’s back seemed to dim for an instant.
“It isn’t Chung Myung, so please rest easy.”
“……That’s a relief. I only just recovered from the stomach trouble.”
A deep shadow flickered beneath Baek Cheon’s eyes.
The two of them let out long sighs. Of course they too were suffering enough from Chung Myung to feel like their stomachs had been punctured, but how could that compare to Baek Cheon’s misery?
After that momentary weariness, Baek Cheon’s expression turned serious once more.
“So. What happened?”
“Hmm…”
After hearing the report, Baek Cheon’s face had stiffened slightly.
“A gap, you say…”
“Yes.”
Yoon Jong nodded slowly.
“After exchanging blows, it was clear the junior disciples had not failed to grow. Their bodies had gained more strength, and their swordsmanship had definitely become more refined.”
“Really?”
“Yes. But… how should I put it? They seemed to lack something.”
“Hmm.”
When Baek Cheon glanced toward Jo Gul, Jo Gul nodded emphatically as well.
“That’s exactly how it felt. They definitely seemed a little better, but… I don’t know, it felt like they weren’t alive.”
Jo Gul paused and thought hard about it for a moment before speaking again.
“I can’t say this to the disciples’ faces, but honestly, I almost feel like Soso might even be stronger than the rest of them.”
When had Dang Soso first entered Mount Hua?
Of course, she never once neglected her training, and she endured a grueling regimen so harsh that even the other second- and third-generation disciples were embarrassed by it.
But objectively speaking, she still wasn’t at the level where she could surpass the other third-generation disciples. No, she shouldn’t have been.
And yet Jo Gul clearly felt that way.
“Hmm.”
After hearing that too, Baek Cheon nodded quietly.
“I think I understand what you mean. Come to think of it, I’ve been feeling something similar myself.”
“You felt it too, Martial Uncle?”
“If Chung Myung’s not around, then I have to handle it. Leading the junior disciples is, after all, what a chief disciple is supposed to do.”
Baek Cheon looked at Yoon Jong and Jo Gul with a slightly dark expression.
“First, let’s make one thing clear. While we were away, the others did not slack off in their training. By any objective measure, their skill has definitely improved by leaps and bounds.”
“Then?”
“It’s a matter of sight, I think.”
“Huh?”
A bitter smile touched his composed mouth.
They had crossed the line between life and death more times than they could count in the North Sea.
They had fought the elite of the North Sea Ice Palace, one of the Four Outer Palaces, with their lives on the line. They had even battled the palace elders.
And that wasn’t all.
They had also fought tooth and nail against the Demonic Sect bastards who could have wiped out a place like that palace in an instant, and even if it was a combined assault, they had still clashed in a decisive battle with that terrifying Bishop of the Demonic Sect.
To such people, the swords of disciples who had merely trained normally would naturally seem unimpressive.
“Even if we started from the same place, if one person has gone a hundred jang and another only ten, wouldn’t the latter look as if he hasn’t moved at all from the starting point?”
“Ah…”
Jo Gul nodded as if he understood. But Yoon Jong did not seem satisfied with simply understanding the situation.
“We didn’t exactly train harder than the others while we were in the North Sea. Hauling carts around counts as training too, but the remaining disciples of Mount Hua went through their own share of hard practice. Even so, the gap is widening. Isn’t that a problem?”
“It is.”
Baek Cheon nodded firmly.
“A problem that must be solved.”
“But there doesn’t seem to be an obvious way…”
“Hmm.”
Baek Cheon lowered his eyes in thought, then straightened his shoulders.
At once, a vast, commanding aura burst forth—the aura of Mount Hua’s great disciple.
It was so overwhelming that Yoon Jong and Jo Gul found themselves unconsciously drawing their shoulders in.
Martial Uncle…
Since when did he become like this?
In a voice heavy with authority, he said,
“Then we’ll just have to find a way. This is Mount Hua. What on earth is there that cannot be solved?”
“Yes!”
“That’s right, Martial Uncle!”
Moved by that truly heroic bearing, the two answered loudly, their chests swelling with expectation.
Baek Cheon spoke in a booming voice.
“You two, go at once and—”
“Yes!”
“Bring Chung Myung here!”
“…….”
The sparkle drained instantly from Jo Gul and Yoon Jong’s faces.
“Now.”
“…….”
Then why the hell did you puff out that aura in the first place?
Seriously, I’m losing my mind here…