I’m Glad to Be a Disciple of Mount Hua (2)
Sssshhk.
The sword swept across the water like a swallow skimming the surface, sharp and swift as it went for its opponent.
The Mount Hua disciples could hardly suppress their admiration as they watched the sword aura unfold before them, almost entrancing in its beauty.
“Sago is really different.”
“It doesn’t even feel like the same sword art.”
Before they knew it, Yu I-seol, who had stepped onto the duel stage, was lightly overwhelming the Wudang disciple sent against her.
Her sword, moving so gracefully beneath the sunlight, was enough to leave not only Wudang but even the Mount Hua disciples watching in awe.
She’s different from Sasuk Baek Cheon.
Baek Cheon’s sword was, in a sense, the ideal of Mount Hua’s disciples.
The destination they could reach when they brought out the sword they were currently learning in its most perfect form. That was why they all trained, dreaming of the day they too could wield a sword like Baek Cheon’s.
But Yu I-seol’s sword belonged to a different realm.
Though it clearly traced the same path and executed the same forms, the feeling of her sword was unmistakably different from that of the other Mount Hua disciples.
“Can a sword really change this much?”
Different, yes—but by no means lacking in force. In fact, the Wudang disciple facing her didn’t even try to hide the troubled look on his face.
What the hell is this sword…!
This sword was strange.
One moment it fluttered through the air with the utmost elegance, and the next it surged in with a dreadful killing intent, aiming straight for vital points.
Until now, the swords of the other Mount Hua disciples had dazzled and enchanted with their brilliant sword aura, but this one seemed to steal his attention and drain his mind simply through movement alone.
And then there was this…
How can it be this precise?
A brief exchange was enough to tell him. Enough to make him feel the chilling precision hidden in that sword.
Just how many times did she practice the same path?
How could he know?
That before Chung Myung ever arrived at Mount Hua, and even up to this very moment, Yu I-seol had been the one most obsessed with the sword in all of Mount Hua.
Long before Chung Myung began teaching Mount Hua its various sword arts, she had trained the sect’s remaining crude sword techniques so obsessively she forgot about sleeping and eating. So what else could happen once she finally got the chance to learn a proper sword art?
Whoosh!
Yu I-seol effortlessly vaulted over the opponent’s sword aura and, with a calm motion, thrust her blade toward the Wudang disciple. The chill in that strike was terrifying.
“...Sago is Sago, all right.”
Jo Gul could only stare blankly at the duel stage, as if he had nothing else to say.
Within Mount Hua, the one person who could truly be compared to Baek Cheon was Yu I-seol. Baek Cheon’s brilliant sword seized the eye by force; Yu I-seol’s quiet sword felt as though it pierced straight into the heart.
“Still, it’s really amazing.”
“What is?”
“They all learned the same sword art and went through the same training, but the swords are still this different.”
“Ah… yes, that’s true.”
At Yoon Jong’s words, Jo Gul nodded.
After all, the Five Swords had largely gone through similar experiences. The training Chung Myung put them through was more or less the same, and even in their private practice they likely hadn’t taken especially different approaches.
And yet, their swords clearly revealed each of their own traits.
“Isn’t that just what happens when you reach a higher level? Chung Myung said something like that last time, didn’t he? Even if you learn the same sword, its character changes depending on the person using it.”
“But Wudang’s swords are all more or less the same, aren’t they?”
“Mm. That’s true enough.”
Of course, even Wudang’s swords varied a little depending on the person. But compared to the swords of Mount Hua’s disciples, it was almost embarrassing to even call that variation “different.”
“Could there be something wrong with our side…?”
Just as Yoon Jong spoke cautiously, unease edging into his voice, a gentle reply came from behind him.
“That is not the case.”
Startled, Yoon Jong spun around to find Un Geom standing there, looking at him with a soft expression.
“S-Sasukjo.”
Un Geom’s gaze on the duel stage remained as calm and profound as ever.
“Wudang’s sword is a sword of goodness.”
“Goodness?”
“Or rather, I should say righteousness. It is a way by which the wise and virtuous study and refine a form to its highest perfection, then teach it to their disciples in pursuit of greater mastery.”
“Ah…”
“That is why all of their swords are bound to resemble one another. The amount of force to place in each swing, how to circulate inner energy, and where each motion should lead—all of it is already decided. In other words, Wudang’s sword is one that pursues perfection.”
Jo Gul and Yoon Jong both nodded. Hearing it laid out like that, it made sense.
“By contrast, Mount Hua does not insist on fault so long as the sword does not stray from the proper path. That is not error, but difference.”
“That’s certainly….”
So far, no one had ever told them that the way they used their swords was wrong.
“So which is right?”
“Who knows? I am not certain.”
Un Geom slowly shook his head.
“There is never only one way to ascend to a higher realm. At times Wudang may be right, and at times Mount Hua may be right.”
Then he looked directly at Wudang’s sword.
This is something we cannot do.
He did not know what Mount Hua’s sword had been like in the past. Unlike Wudang, whose line had continued unbroken, Mount Hua’s sword had already been severed once. All they could do now was infer what the old Mount Hua sword arts had been like from the manuals that remained.
That was why he could not tell the disciples, “This is Mount Hua’s perfect sword.” That was the greatest pain Un Geom carried as he taught Mount Hua’s disciples.
He did not know whether freedom or strictness was truly the right answer.
But there was a clear difference between not doing something because you would not, and not doing it because you could not. If Mount Hua’s sword lineage had continued uninterrupted, if only he had been a little stronger…
Then it happened.
“It’s always been like that.”
“Huh?”
Jo Gul looked down at Chung Myung, who was crouching there, and asked back.
“Like what?”
“Mount Hua’s sword has always been like that.”
“...And how the hell would you know that?”
“You read the manuals, didn’t you?”
Chung Myung’s face twisted in visible irritation.
“What, are your eyes just holes in a tree stump or something? Why’d you even bother opening them if they’re that useless. You clearly read the manuals with those two eyes of yours.”
“I did read them, but….”
As Jo Gul fumbled for words, Chung Myung let out a long sigh.
“If our ancestors had wanted to hand down a fully standardized method, they would’ve written the manuals in more detail. You’re not seriously thinking they just got bored halfway through and stopped writing, are you?”
“...No, I guess not. No matter how many years ago it was, there probably wasn’t another person like you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It’s an insult, Chung Myung.”
“Hey, what did you just say?”
Just as Chung Myung flared up and started to get to his feet, Baek Cheon reached out and shoved him back down by the head.
“Sit still, you brat! Look at the situation before you start acting like a maniac!”
“So Sasuk was really in a position to judge the situation when he was putting on that grand show in front of the Wudang guys?”
“Wasn’t I great?”
“...Yeah. You were great.”
He really had been great, so there was nothing to say.
Chung Myung muttered under his breath, then soon broke into a grin again.
“It’s not something to split into right and wrong. Water may seem different in each place, but in the end it all gathers in one direction and flows into the sea. That means there’s a greater destination at the end of it.”
“Mm, that’s true.”
“But plum blossoms are different. Different flowers gather together to make a forest. Even if each one is different, each still has its own value.”
“Mm.”
“And then….”
Chung Myung lifted his head and looked toward the duel stage. For some reason, his eyes seemed to be fixed on something far beyond it.
“In the end, it’s all a cycle.”
“A cycle?”
At the question, Chung Myung gave a slow nod.
“Water starts in the sea, rises to the sky, becomes rain and dew, and then flows back down into the mountains. It gathers into streams, becomes rivers, and flows back into the sea.”
“....”
“Plum blossoms begin as fruit, become seeds, fall to the ground, sprout into saplings, grow into trees, then bloom again and bear fruit.”
“That’s right.”
“Nature is just a cycle of that sort, over and over again. Wudang and Mount Hua are both trying to embody that cycle through the human body. The difference is only in where each one places its emphasis. It’s not a matter of who’s superior or where one is wrong.”
Listening in silence, Yoon Jong’s mouth slowly fell open.
“Uh….”
Seeing that dazed reaction, Chung Myung tilted his head.
“What?”
“N-no. I mean, that’s right, and it’s obvious, but… it just feels so weird hearing that from you, I guess, like….”
“Hey, you little—!”
“He’s your senior, brat!”
Baek Cheon once again pressed down hard on Chung Myung’s crown.
“Anyway.”
Chung Myung pouted, then continued.
“What matters is that each follows its own way. Wudang isn’t more right, and it isn’t wrong either.”
“...I understand.”
Un Geom quietly regarded Chung Myung’s back as he once again turned to the duel stage with a bored expression, and thought to himself.
...That boy really is...
Other people might not understand it, but at times he felt a surprising thoughtfulness in Chung Myung. Even now, wasn’t it almost as if Chung Myung had sensed what he was thinking and was quietly trying to reassure him that there was no need to burden himself with such thoughts?
It might have been a coincidence. It might simply have been something Chung Myung blurted out without thinking that happened to land perfectly. But more than once, Un Geom had found comfort and relief in words like these from Chung Myung.
A cycle.
Yes. That was enough.
So long as Mount Hua did not let go of what it was truly meant to pursue, the outer trappings such as sword forms would naturally follow.
Mm.
Meanwhile, Chung Myung discreetly checked Un Geom’s expression before fixing his gaze forward again.
Honestly, what a worrywart.
Still, he couldn’t exactly blame him, because all those thoughts ultimately came from concern that he might fail to properly lead the disciples of the future. So rather than reproaching him, it would be more fitting to call it admirable.
To Chung Myung’s eyes, the older generation of Mount Hua had truly been doing a fine job. Their efforts were shining brightly on this duel stage.
It was the same back then too.
The Cheong generation led by Chung Mun in the past had been an unprecedented generation in Mount Hua’s history, packed with powerful figures. Chung Myung had stood out so overwhelmingly that the rest had been somewhat overshadowed, but aside from him, the others were strong enough to chew up most sect masters and spit them out.
There had been a slight issue in that all of it came from being tormented by Chung Myung, of course…
In any case.
Even back then, the Cheong generation had each possessed their own distinct tendencies in the sword. Just as the current Five Swords were finding swords suited to themselves, the plum blossoms of that era had bloomed in a riot of different colors.
Different in every way, yet ultimately gathering to form a forest and becoming one. That was Mount Hua’s plum blossom.
And if the current Five Swords—and even those who followed them—could all bloom their own plum blossoms, then Mount Hua would recover the prosperity it once knew.
If the disciples each blossomed in their own way and painted the scenery of Mount Hua, it would truly be a magnificent sight.
But as he imagined that scene, Chung Myung’s face gradually stiffened, stripped of expression.
A cycle, huh….
Those were the words he had just spoken aloud.
Yes. The law of the world was, in the end, a cycle. Life leads to death, and death once again leads to life. It was an ancient and unquestionable truth.
But…
I’m the one outside that cycle.
What could not return to the cycle would, in the end, rot and warp.
Right now, Chung Myung’s existence might be Mount Hua’s greatest blessing… but would it still help Mount Hua in the future?
No, before that…
Why, exactly, had he been cast outside the laws of the cycle?
—Why did it come to this? Why….
Dalai Lama’s grief-stricken voice echoed through Chung Myung’s mind.
It was the thunderous explosion that erupted from the duel stage that forcibly dragged Chung Myung out of his deepening reverie.
Kwaaaang!
Pulled back to reality in an instant, Chung Myung raised his head.
The duel had already ended.
“Ugh….”
The Wudang disciple sitting on the ground stared at Yu I-seol with disbelieving eyes.
But Yu I-seol still wore the same impassive expression, as if there were no reason at all to celebrate such a victory.
“I learned a lot.”
“...I learned a lot.”
Watching her turn away without a trace of hesitation, Chung Myung grinned.
Yeah, that’s more like it.
He hadn’t even considered that Yu I-seol would lose in the first place.
“Chung Myung.”
“Yeah?”
“We’ve already won them all.”
“As we should.”
Baek Cheon’s expression hardened slightly as he asked, “So what now? Who are you planning to send out?”
“Huh?”
“You had a plan, didn’t you?”
“Huh?”
“....”
Seeing Chung Myung’s bright, innocent-looking face, Baek Cheon’s own went pale.
“...Don’t tell me you didn’t have any plan at all?”
“....”
Chung Myung scratched the back of his head and smiled shyly.
“Well… I figured it’d work out somehow?”
“....”
Once again, Baek Cheon was struck painfully by just how hopelessly reckless this bastard really was.