I’m Glad to Be a Disciple of Mount Hua (5)
Waves of blue sword energy crashed down, only to be held back by a blaze of red.
But the crimson sword energy was too faint to fully withstand the blue torrent surging in like an angry sea; it looked strained, as if it would break at any moment.
“Sasuk.”
Baek Cheon bit his lip before he even realized it.
From today on, I’m your master.
Un Geom’s smiling face, speaking those words with such kindness, was still vivid before Baek Cheon’s eyes.
Back then, Un Geom had seemed to him like the most imposing man in the world.
Those broad shoulders looked as if they could carry anything, and the firm line of his mouth held unwavering confidence.
And that impression had reflected the man exactly as he was. While teaching his disciples, he had never once neglected his own training for even a single day.
He had been so extraordinary that Baek Cheon had once thought he must be the kind of man a sword itself would want to shape.
A person he had admired. A person he still admired.
Sasuk…
Somewhere, a low sob escaped.
A muffled, pained sound that tried to hold itself back but finally slipped through clenched lips in the end.
Everyone understood exactly what Un Geom was feeling as he stood there.
That was why no one could look away.
Even when tears blurred their vision, they refused to blink. Even when their jaws trembled and their hearts felt as if they might split apart, they only bit down harder on their lips.
This was no ordinary bout.
It was Un Geom’s cry. Just as always, it was his lesson to them—teaching not with words, but with action.
How could a disciple ever look away from the teachings of his master?
I’ll watch closely.
Baek Cheon clenched his fists and widened his eyes. He could not afford to miss a single moment.
Among these fervent disciples, only Unam was watching Un Geom with a slightly different gaze.
Junior Brother.
The sword energy was rough.
It was not the sword energy of the past, refined until it was sharper than the blade itself. It was coarse, unnatural, clumsy—like gears that no longer meshed, grinding and jerking against each other.
It was like an old waterwheel, weathered by wind and rain, screaming as it turned.
But…
Yes, Junior Brother. And what of it?
The one swinging that sword was still Un Geom.
Unam understood.
He understood how painful it was for someone who had tumbled down from the top of a mountain to drag a broken leg behind him and climb back toward the summit.
That was why he knew the sword Un Geom wielded now was several times more remarkable than the one of his past.
I’ll become Mount Hua’s greatest sword someday.
Don’t lose, Junior Brother.
The back he had watched for so long—why did it look so forlorn now? When that man held a sword, that back had always seemed like the most reliable thing in the world. Yet now it looked unbearably lonely.
Still, Unam forcefully rejected the feeling rising in him.
Do not pity the one who fights.
That would be an insult to the person holding the sword.
All he could do was believe in Un Geom’s victory. Believe without the slightest doubt, and nothing more.
Crk, crk, crk!
A sound like the very tip of a sword being ground away stabbed into their ears.
Of course, that could not possibly be the case. This was the cold iron sword Chung Myung had forged. A weapon crafted with meticulous care for Un Geom, who had to use a left-handed sword—its weight distribution, even the angle of the grip, all painstakingly adjusted.
Un Geom knew. He knew the state of mind Chung Myung had poured into making this sword.
So how could he show weakness while holding it?
Fwaaaat!
The surging sword energy roiled as it pressed in, aiming for his entire body.
Too slow.
What his mind thought, his body could not keep up with. The sword that had once flown in the instant his heart willed it now arrived half a beat after his thoughts.
The unbridgeable gap and the helpless sense of dissonance followed him like a shadow.
Another name for that was despair.
Perhaps the opponent Un Geom was fighting now was not a Wudang disciple at all, but the despair swallowing him whole.
Yes. If that was the case…
A smile that did not belong there surfaced on Un Geom’s lips as he gripped his trembling sword.
That was, perhaps, a relief.
Un Geom’s head turned slightly toward Mount Hua’s disciples. He could not turn his eyes toward them, of course, so he could not place them in his sight—but he trusted his heart would reach them.
You brats.
The world was not so easy. Mount Hua’s disciples had grown by leaps and bounds because they had someone to guide them and because they never neglected their own effort.
But that could not continue forever.
Someday, they too would meet enemies they could not handle, encounter problems they could not solve, and stand before mountains so high they could not be crossed.
The mountain called despair.
I’m an inadequate master.
He no longer had any sword teachings left to give them.
Baek Cheon and a few others had already surpassed him, and the rest would soon leave him behind as well. Now, he was the one who had to learn from them.
Kwaddeuk!
A sword energy he had failed to block dug into his shoulder. It burrowed into the flesh and snapped the bone.
So watch carefully.
And yet the reason he could still be called their master was that there was still more he could teach them besides the sword.
The world is always harsh.
I can’t stand before you and shield you from that cutting wind. I can’t protect you and lead you any longer.
But…
I can still teach you how to endure despair.
I can show you how to keep moving forward with your feet planted firmly on the ground, even if you stumble.
Fwaaat!
The crimson sword energy that burst forth violently split the oncoming blue tide in two.
It was still rough beyond measure, but the will contained within it had not wavered in the slightest.
Thud!
Un Geom took one step forward.
Living in this world is like fighting your way through waves.
Surviving one towering wave doesn’t mean it’s over. Another wave will come, and then another.
So don’t let yourself sway.
You have to plant your feet and grit your teeth and endure.
In the end, waves only pass by. They brush against the body and then recede into nothing.
Despair was the same, was it not?
Even if it was unbearably painful now, even if it ground the teeth to dust, someday it would break apart like a wave that had already passed.
So!
Endure it.
If it is too hard for you alone, I’ll brace your back. There’s nothing to fear.
Kwaaaaaaah!
In that instant, the blue sword energy surging in rose twice as high. The sword energy Un Geom had released was swept away and shattered, and then Un Geom himself was struck by the onrushing current and flung back.
Even then, he could not let go of his sword, so he had no arm free to brace himself. Un Geom’s body crashed helplessly to the ground.
“Sasuk!”
“Sasukjoooooo!”
“Hall Leader!”
Rending screams pierced his dazed ears.
Lying on the ground, Un Geom stared blankly up at the blue sky.
I don’t know.
Even he could not say for certain why he was fighting. Whether it was to prove himself as a swordsman. Whether it was because he did not want to disgrace the name of Mount Hua. Or whether he simply wanted to show the disciples something.
But there was one thing he knew for sure.
Kwaduk!
The sword plunged into the ground.
Using it like a cane, Un Geom forced his body upright and looked ahead with clear eyes. Blood flowed from the deep cuts torn through him by the sword energy, but he did not even glance at them.
His one remaining hand trembled violently. And yet his legs still steadied themselves against the earth once more.
Seeing that, Mu Gak’s face went a little pale.
“The match is…”
He could not finish the sentence. With obvious effort, he pried his lips apart.
“I think it’s already been decided.”
Un Geom smiled lightly.
“I’m sorry, but this one hasn’t given up yet. I’d appreciate it if you’d humor me a little longer.”
“...If you insist.”
Mu Gak hardened his expression and swung his sword again.
Shaaaaaak!
It was a lightning-fast sword strike, swift as a flash of thunder.
The sword energy he had unleashed vanished into a blur for an instant, then reappeared right before Un Geom’s face.
Clang!
Twisting his body, Un Geom knocked aside the incoming sword energy.
But then—
Fwaaat! Fwaaaat!
Mu Gak’s sword energy did not stop at a single strike. It was released again and again, all of it aimed at Un Geom’s body.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Each time he blocked an attack, his body was shoved back by another foot. He could deflect the sword energy, but he could not absorb the force carried within it.
After blocking blow after blow, Un Geom’s body finally lost the contest of strength and was knocked flat onto the ground once more.
Thud!
He had failed to maintain his balance because he had not yet fully adapted to a body with one arm missing.
Grrrk.
Un Geom’s fist, still clenched around the sword, slammed against the ground.
Only one arm remained, and it trembled violently.
Still, he used that arm to prop himself up and stubbornly rose again. The hand holding the sword was still shaking, but his face remained as composed as it had been when the bout first began.
Seeing that face, Mu Gak found himself speaking again before he realized it.
“...Why?”
Why was this man forcing himself to stand again?
The result had already been decided.
So what in the world was he trying to gain by pushing his body this far?
Mu Gak asked with a truly baffled expression.
“Why go this far?”
“...”
“It’s only a spar. Even if you lose, no one will point fingers or condemn you for it.”
“Condemn me…?”
Un Geom laughed softly and slowly shook his head as he looked at Mu Gak. There was not a trace of malice in his face.
“As you live your life,” he said,
“...”
“there are times when you fall.”
“...”
“Times when you lose something, times when you’re frustrated, and times when you’re swallowed by despair and lose your way.”
It was an abrupt thing to say. But Mu Gak could not cut him off.
“Do you know what one must do then?”
“...What must one do?”
Un Geom shook his head.
“There’s no special trick to it.”
“...”
“You just walk. You get up and walk again. Even if your knees are scraped raw and hurting, even if your ankles are twisted and aching, all you can do is stand up and keep walking.”
“Dojang…”
“Listen, Dojang.”
Un Geom lifted his sword.
“You expect me—the one who must tell my disciples to live on and keep walking—to whine over something this small?”
“...”
“Sometimes in life, you have no choice but to give up at the foot of the mountain. But that doesn’t mean you’ve failed. If you’ve given up, you can always climb again. Real surrender isn’t descending the mountain or tumbling down it. Real surrender is the moment you start hesitating to try again.”
Mu Gak understood.
Those words were not meant for Mu Gak, nor even for Un Geom himself. They were meant for Mount Hua’s disciples, the ones watching this bout.
“So don’t trouble yourself and come at me. I am a swordsman of Mount Hua. A swordsman of Mount Hua does not collapse over something like this.”
Mu Gak closed his eyes. A moment later, he slowly opened them again.
“May I ask your name once more?”
“Un Geom of Mount Hua.”
“Un Geom…”
Mu Gak let out a low sigh.
Elder. We were wrong.
What we said about Mount Hua having only the younger generation, about there being no seniors to guide them—that was clearly wrong.
Isn’t one standing right here?
When such a man supports the backs of his disciples, how can anyone say Mount Hua’s first-generation disciples are powerless? Aren’t we the ones who failed to truly see Mount Hua for what it is?
Our Wudang…
Mu Gak quietly unsheathed the sword at his waist and tossed the scabbard aside.
For a swordsman to throw away his scabbard was a declaration that he would fight without regard for life or death. But the meaning of the act now was a little different.
It meant the man before him was an opponent worth fighting to the death for. It was the highest form of respect he could show.
“I…”
Mu Gak looked straight at Un Geom with resolute eyes.
“I will never forget that name.”
“Thank you.”
“I will give it everything I have. Be prepared.”
“As you wish.”
Mu Gak steadied his breathing.
His sword began drawing a different trajectory from before. This was not sword energy like water. A circular, gentle arc was traced through the air.
Taiji Wisdom Sword.
The blade that severed delusion.
The ultimate art of Wudang.
He unfolded it as an expression of supreme respect for his opponent, even though this sword was forbidden in a spar.
The sword quietly sliced through the round circle drawn in the air.
The beginning of the world is the One, divided into yin and yang. Before the very eyes of the crowd, the sword that held the source of all things finally revealed its form.
Sword energy split into black and white swept toward Un Geom with overwhelming force. Facing it, Un Geom tightened his grip on the plum blossom sword.
Strange.
The sword in his hand felt, impossibly, warm.
It should not have been possible, and yet it was as if a faint thread of heat was flowing through the hilt.
Hall Leader!
A gentle smile bloomed on Un Geom’s lips.
He could almost see his still-young disciples running toward him through the countless plum blossoms blooming on Mount Hua.
You’ll all surpass me and go out into the world.
So until then…
I hope my sword can become your shade.
And then Un Geom’s sword drew a great tree into being.
A towering tree that spread its branches to cover the world, casting a broad shadow where one could rest in peace.
The shade Un Geom created might have been a little warm.