There Are Losses More Precious Than Victory (3)
“Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff!”
His bloodshot eyes glimmered ominously again and again.
And the faces of everyone watching him slowly twisted with unease. In the end, there was only one person they could look to.
Figure something out.
Me? How?
No, seriously! You’re the only martial uncle here. You know he’s going to blow if this keeps up, right?
Grrr.
These damned idiots never treated him like a martial uncle in the first place, always calling him Dong-ryong this and Dong-ryong that, but the second something went wrong, they were all martial uncle this, martial uncle that, flocking to him for help.
If it were only the pressure from the disciples, he could ignore it. But the problem was that even the elders standing behind them were subtly nudging Baek Cheon to do something.
Unable to endure the blatant plea and the silent pressure that followed it, he let out a long sigh and edged cautiously toward Chung Myung, trying to read his mood.
“Consec— ... consecutive losses... Seven straight losses...”
“……”
“Losing seven straight to those Wudang bastards... To Wudang...”
He’s gone mad.
He’d always been a little off in the head, but this was clearly beyond that now. One look at those feral eyes and the trembling hands was enough to tell.
It was bad enough having to deal with him when he was merely difficult. Now Baek Cheon had to stop a Chung Myung who had outright lost his mind, and that was truly a cruel fate.
Ancestors above.
I’m really going to die like this.
Baek Cheon exhaled heavily, then spoke carefully. He intended to calm him down somehow, first of all.
“Um...”
“Grrrr...”
“A-about that...”
“Huh?”
Chung Myung’s eyes snapped toward him.
...Look at those damn eyes.
At this rate, he really would start shooting fire out of them.
“That... thing...”
Baek Cheon, uncharacteristically, stumbled over his words.
“You said it, didn’t you?”
“Said what?”
“That... there are defeats more precious than victory.”
“……”
No answer came, but Baek Cheon forced an awkward smile and went on.
“Even if we lost, the disciples still learned something, so there’s no need to get that angry...”
The next instant, Chung Myung’s head jerked sideways.
We’re done for.
He’s dead.
Should I run?
At the same time, the faces of the Mount Hua disciples, who had been watching Chung Myung’s mood, went stark white.
“Martial uncle.”
“Y-yeah?”
“That’s right. Of course I said it.”
“R-right. Of course you did, Chung Myung.”
“...But.”
“Hm?”
“So what?”
“……”
“Does knowing something mean you can just do it? Huh?”
Chung Myung’s eyes began to roll back little by little.
“If I could do everything I know, would I be Chung Myung or some genius prince? Even Buddha spent a lifetime actually practicing what he knew, so what’s the problem with me not being able to do what I know? What is it!”
“……”
Good grief, why was their junior’s temper so rotten?
“Those useless bastards couldn’t even be used as firewood, and they lost seven straight to Wudang! Seven straight? Not five straight! Not six straight! Seven straight? Seven straight, you say?”
Fuming as though he were about to foam at the mouth, Chung Myung suddenly stiffened and clutched the back of his neck.
“Ghk... m-my neck!”
“C-calm down!”
Baek Cheon nearly leaped out of his skin and hurriedly soothed him.
“We took enough gains already! If you run wild here, we’ll really end up with nothing to show for it.”
“R-right, Chung Myung! P-please calm down first!”
“Somebody hurry up and bring me some sweets, you bastards!”
The other disciples also rushed to help Baek Cheon placate him.
They had been with Chung Myung for years now. That was long enough to know all too well that whenever that bastard started boiling over, something horrible would happen.
“Huff! Huff! Huff! Huff!”
Chung Myung glared ahead with bloodshot eyes, drawing in ragged breaths.
“At this rate, I should just smash every one of those bastards’ skulls in and bury them on some mountain...”
“What are you talking about, are you insane?”
“No, Martial uncle. He was already insane to begin with.”
“...Fair point.”
Even madmen knew how to choose their time and place.
But the madman in front of them did not, and that was the real problem!
“Does that damned seven straight even make sense?”
“You’re the one who said we couldn’t win, you lunatic!”
“I know we can’t win! Of course we can’t win! But we’re supposed to win anyway!”
“...Please, please try to say something that makes sense...”
Baek Cheon pleaded, but Chung Myung was already too far gone to hear reason.
Of course he knew.
The Mount Hua disciples other than the Mount Hua Five Swords still could not match Wudang. Wudang wasn’t some local martial school. How were they supposed to beat an opponent separated from them by an entire generation?
If that were possible, Mount Hua would already have risen to be a sect worthy of being called the greatest under heaven, and they’d be engraving plum blossoms on the bald heads of the Shaolin monks already.
He knew. Of course he knew. He knew, but...
Knowing it still pisses me off!
Good grief, what a miserable fate he had.
Living long enough to see Mount Hua get crushed this badly by Wudang!
You bastards, back in my day—huh?
I never even saw their faces! I only saw the taoist hats on their heads! How dare Wudang bastards hold their heads high in front of Mount Hua?
Chung Myung was so simmering that he seemed ready to explode. He clutched the hilt of his sword and trembled all over.
“C-calm down, you bastard!”
“Where are the sweets?!”
Just then—
Crash!
Gwak Hoe, who had gone out representing the third generation in a match, was unable to withstand the incoming sword aura and was slammed into the ground of the tournament platform.
“Wh-what, wh-what—!”
At last, unable to contain his rage, Chung Myung actually started leaning backward as if he might topple over.
No, why is he even losing at a time like this?!
That idiot who can’t read the room!
Just you wait until you come down here!
It was unfortunate for Gwak Hoe, who had done his absolute best only to be on the receiving end of a barrage of curses, but that was just how the world worked.
The same deed, if done at the wrong time, would still get you battered for it.
“Huuuuuh...”
At last, Chung Myung managed to right himself and took a deep breath. It seemed to work at least a little, because his expression gradually softened.
“...Fine. The one saying something weird is me.”
“R-right, Chung Myung. Just calm down first! Hm?”
“We can just win next time! Next time, we’ll win!”
“No. That’s not what...”
“Hm?”
“A thirsty man digs the well, damn it! I’m going out!”
“Hold him!”
“Stop him!”
The Mount Hua disciples nearby lunged in a flash, piling onto Chung Myung and pinning him down.
“Let go! You won’t let go? Then I’ll shave every one of their heads bald and reclassify them as Shaolin disciples!”
“A-Amitabha. That matter would require the sect’s opinion as well...”
“Shut up! You’re useless anyway!”
“……”
“You worthless lout! You gorge yourself on Mount Hua’s food and still can’t even go out for a match? Huh? Spit everything you ate back out, you bastard!”
Hye Yeon’s face was flooded with wounded indignation.
It wasn’t as if he’d stayed back because he wanted to. Honestly, as a Shaolin monk, how was he supposed to take part in a match between Mount Hua and Wudang?
“Why are you taking it out on a monk!”
“Because you’re useless! Useless! That bald head of yours!”
Haahhh!
As Chung Myung rolled his eyes, Baek Ah poked its head out from inside his robe and hissed at Hye Yeon.
Hye Yeon drooped even more and lowered his head. Yoon Jong approached and patted him on the shoulder.
“We don’t think that way, so please don’t mind him, monk.”
“...Thank you.”
Even as Yoon Jong consoled Hye Yeon, Chung Myung’s outburst continued.
“Let go! You won’t let go? I said I’m going out! If I go out there and snap those bastards’ necks one by one, won’t that solve it!”
“You said you’d go last, you bastard!”
“This isn’t the kind of situation where grabbing one half-assed win changes anything!”
“Here, here, eat this candy! Candy! Quickly!”
Jo Gul somehow procured sweets from somewhere and stuffed them into Chung Myung’s mouth.
Chung Myung chewed on them savagely, as if the candy were the heads of Wudang disciples.
“Grrr...”
Even with the sweets in his mouth, Chung Myung still refused to calm down, and Baek Cheon let out another deep sigh.
Seven straight... No, eight straight was a little much, wasn’t it?
Ever since Un Geom had put on such a strong showing, everyone really had tried their best. Still, defeat was defeat. It was true that every loss piled on top of the last until it felt as though his stomach were being twisted inside out.
They had confirmed that Wudang was not far beyond reach.
But they had also confirmed, just as clearly, that the gap still existed.
Wudang, huh...
Baek Cheon looked toward Wudang’s camp with a grave expression.
“They’re still too high.”
“They are.”
Baek Cheon and Yoon Jong watched Wudang’s formation intently.
Wudang was certainly worthy of being called the foremost sword sect under heaven.
Even if the day comes when our children catch up to those first-generation disciples, there’s still the matter of numbers.
Not all of Wudang’s first-generation disciples were even here. Wudang had nearly a hundred first-generation disciples alone. That was overwhelmingly more than Mount Hua.
And if one considered that while those men grew stronger, Wudang’s second- and third-generation disciples would also be growing, then the difference in their overall strength would not be easy to overcome by any means.
On top of that...
“Even if we overcome them, the Wudang elders will still be waiting after that.”
“...I’d really rather not think about it, but yes, it’s terrifying.”
“Yes. It is.”
This, then, was the foundation of a great sect. It wasn’t difficult to surpass one individual after another. But a great sect, even after you overtook one layer, would rise again before you in the form of another towering mountain.
“Still...”
Resolve settled firmly on Baek Cheon’s face.
“It has to be this high if you want to make chasing it worthwhile.”
It was still unbearably high.
But it didn’t feel like a mountain that could never be climbed. Through this tournament, the Mount Hua disciples would have come to the same conclusion.
Wudang had once been so high that they couldn’t even guess at its summit. But through this match, they had confirmed roughly how high it really was. And if they could measure it, didn’t that mean they could one day climb it?
The greatest harvest from this tournament will probably be that we return with confidence.
Baek Cheon smiled quietly.
There was, however, one thing he regretted.
“It would be nice if we could confirm exactly how strong Wudang’s elders are.”
“That’ll be difficult. Elders are not the sort to step forward lightly.”
“True.”
Heo Sanja was here, but Heo Sanja could not really be called one of Wudang’s true elders. What they wanted to know was not the strength of those who handled outside affairs like Heo Sanja, but the might of the real elders—those who remained deep in Wudang’s mountain valleys and devoted themselves solely to cultivation.
It’s a pity we missed that one thing.
Still, they had gained everything else, and that was enough.
“Grrr... Those Wudang bastards...”
“......”
So for now, they just had to calm this dog down first...
...I’m going to die. Seriously.
“Good work.”
“Yes, Elder.”
Heo Sanja nodded deeply at the disciple who had returned victorious.
Eight times.
Since the loss to Yu I-seol, Wudang had won eight straight. That was enough to say they had accomplished eighty percent of what they had planned. And yet, even after watching those winning streaks pile up, Heo Sanja’s face never fully relaxed.
We’re clearly winning.
So why did it not feel at all like they were winning?
Heo Sanja bit his lip and glanced toward Mount Hua.
The Mount Hua disciples were chattering noisily, but they did not look like losers to anyone who saw them. If anything, they looked more like victors who had just secured a sweeping triumph.
By contrast, Wudang’s mood had only grown more and more subdued despite the victories.
We should have broken them...
Thinking of the reason this tournament had begun, this kind of atmosphere should not continue. It was important to signal the disparity to the outside world, yes—but more than that, Mount Hua needed to feel, deep in its bones, that Wudang was a wall it could never cross.
To do that...
Heo Sanja barked sharply.
“Has that Heo Gong not arrived yet? The sect leader gave the order himself—how can he be so discourteous!”
“He has already arrived, so there is no need to be angry.”
Heo Sanja had expected Mu Jin to answer, but when a voice came from behind him instead, he widened his eyes. Turning around, he saw his junior with a strangely mixed expression on his face.
“Senior brother. By the looks of it, you seem to be having a rather hard time.”
“W-why are you so late!”
At Heo Sanja’s hasty rebuke, Heo Gong smiled.
“It is lamentable.”
“...What did you say?”
“Since when has Wudang become so weak? To think that we would need an elder to step out personally before we could even deal with one Mount Hua.”
“Y-you—”
“Isn’t that right, senior brother?”
At Heo Gong’s low, heavy voice, everyone fell silent.