Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Change (6)
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Haah!
Kang Muho let out one sigh after another.
He couldn't help but doubt whether the man standing before him was truly the same older brother he'd known all his life. Not just his speech and behavior—even his eyes were different. Sure, he'd harbored plenty of resentment toward the family's decisions, but even when he pretended otherwise, his inferiority complex always seeped through.
That brother had always seemed so pitiful.
But there was none of that in his brother now.
It was a relief, yet it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Still can't wrap your head around it, huh?"
"Feels unreal. What would you do if you were me?"
"I'd feel the same."
His brother, whom he'd known for twenty years, had been hiding his true abilities all this time. The same brother who'd been dying to show off! Who could accept that at face value? And it wasn't like they'd been apart for years—they'd grown up together. That made the change feel all the more alien.
He couldn't just swallow it whole, but the evidence was right there in front of him, plain as day. He couldn't deny it. And that made it even harder to process.
"You know what the surest way is for a martial artist to get a feel for something?"
"A spar?"
"You'll know for sure once you take a few hits."
"Fine, I'll admit you've changed. But don't underestimate me, or you'll regret it."
"At my level, you can underestimate me all you want. Come on, little brother—attack however you like."
Kang Mujin's confident attitude left Kang Muho dumbfounded.
Sure, his wood-chopping skills had been impressive. Splitting along the grain wasn't easy. But wood and people were different. And trained martial artists were something else entirely. A seasoned warrior couldn't be compared to mere lumber, especially when they were alive and moving, shifting their grain on the fly.
"Don't regret this."
"You better not regret following me. Don't go crying now—grown men who cry look pathetic."
"Who's gonna cry?!"
"Then quit yelling. My ears work just fine."
Kang Muho kept questioning if this was really his brother, but he steadied his mind. That wood-chopping display had been no joke. As a martial artist, letting his guard down could be fatal. He wouldn't make that mistake.
"Carelessness invites disaster, and excessive caution stiffens the body."
"I know."
"Don't chicken out."
"Where'd you pick up that crude talk?"
"Too rigid, and you never grow."
Kang Muho realized he was being toyed with.
Based on their family records alone, his brother was no match for him. Yet here he was, getting led around by the nose. It was pathetic, in a way.
This wouldn't do.
He calmed his excitement, kept his guard up, and moved his body. The Evolution Art circulating through his meridians brought stability. The flow of his internal energy restored his true self.
"Here I come."
"Bring it."
Kang Mujin's heart grew bitter at his newly confident brother's response.
It laid bare just how much weight Kang Muho had carried all these years. Always shouldering the burden, reining himself in to keep his composure unshaken. It hadn't been like that before he turned ten. But once Mujin started wandering, Muho had shouldered responsibility.
'What can I do? This is your fate.'
It was a cold decision to abandon his brother for the family's harmony. No matter how things played out later, a word once spoken had to be kept.
No taking it back.
Slide!
Kang Mujin glided forward like he was skating on ice. Not slow, but not fast either.
Kang Muho, who'd braced himself somewhat, felt disappointed at the lack of speed.
Huh?
The more trained a martial artist, the better they secured their personal space. Yet in that instant, Kang Muho lost his.
"Now's not the time to space out."
"...Damn it!"
Losing space tangled his next move. He drew his sword to claim aerial dominance, but its path was read effortlessly.
"Predictable."
Kang Mujin slipped into that space, closing to within half a step. Suddenly, it wasn't sword range anymore—it was fist range.
Dominated space.
Mujin was free; Muho was constrained.
The tide had turned.
Thud!
Right below the solar plexus.
No vital strike, but that one blow froze Kang Muho in place. The shock was immense. His guts felt like they might spill out his mouth.
"Still... hngh!"
"No holding back."
Kang Mujin drove his elbow down onto his lowered head.
Thud!
Double trouble.
Beaten and slammed to the ground, Kang Muho shuddered violently before blacking out.
-You've got a nasty hobby.
'Theory's a mess anyway.'
Not that teaching was a hassle.
Gasp!
When Kang Muho opened his eyes, a dizzying ache shot through the back of his skull, but he was otherwise dazed. The sky above was clear, yet he wondered why?
Then the last memory hit him.
Springing up, he looked around.
"You're awake."
Kang Mujin sat leisurely on a stump of a felled tree, waiting for his brother to come to.
"How...?"
"Still too rigid. Weak to irregular moves."
"Irregular?"
"Aerial control—it's always shakable. Panic aside, what was with that straightforward sword path?"
Despite Kang Mujin's jabs, Kang Muho was still out of it. It felt like a dream. In the family, only his father and the elders could beat him—and even they couldn't knock him out in two hits.
"Can't accept it, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then what're you waiting for? Come on."
"I won't go down like last time."
"Everyone says that—until they get hit."
Kang Mujin grinned, drawing him in.
Kang Muho didn't back down, swinging his sword. Defense wasn't working. Time to seize the initiative with offense.
He summoned all his internal energy.
Clang!
The sword didn't advance. Before the arc completed, Kang Mujin had slipped inside again. He hadn't even sensed how.
"Too many wasted motions."
"...Damn... urgh!"
Seizing the wrist, Kang Mujin flowed in like water and smashed his jaw. The attack sequence was flawless.
Thud!
Stagger!
He strained to stand, but his legs wouldn't obey. He crumpled repeatedly.
Thump!
Finally collapsing, Kang Muho looked up at his brother with hollow eyes. Years of training undone so pointlessly. Not even knowing what hit him stung to the bone. It meant a gap in skill. No way he could win now. He'd lose the same way every time.
So the question lingered.
Being this strong...
"Why give up the successor position?"
"You're better suited than me."
"Take it back now."
"Hey, a man's word is gold. You gonna go back on yours?"
Only then did Kang Muho realize why his brother had made him swear. He'd nailed it shut to prevent backing out. It was absurd. And those eyes, that expression—clearly, he'd dumped it because it was a hassle.
Infuriating.
Had he ever wanted to punch his brother this badly? But it wasn't over yet.
"Can't have the sect's successor going around getting beat up."
"...What're you planning?"
"Sorry, but I'm terrible at lectures."
"...No way."
"Come on, let's go again."
Kang Mujin's bright smile drained the color from Kang Muho's face.
It reeked of abusing his brother under the guise of training. He shook his head firmly in protest, but...
"...What if I say no?"
"You'll just get hit more."
"You're serious?"
"Dead serious."
Early morning, summoned by his father, Kang Mujin waited in the training grounds. His father stood there with sword in hand, radiating seriousness. He meant business today.
"Draw your sword."
"Didn't bring it."
"Why not?"
"You didn't tell me to. Just said come."
"Go fetch it quick!"
Kang Mujin went back and grabbed some random sword. No idea whose it was, but he'd return it later—that was good enough.
"Watch and learn."
"From what?"
"What else? The Pine Tiger Ten Swords. You're the eldest son—successor or not, you should know it properly."
"Yes, sir."
Who'd have thought this day would come? Father's attention had vanished since childhood. He'd only brought disappointment, and felt sorry for it. Kang Mujin watched his father's Pine Tiger Ten Swords without blinking.
His father's peak-first-rate swordplay suited the Pine Tiger Ten Swords perfectly. It stuck to basics and principles, no frills. Pure fundamentals.
Perfect? Yes, perfect.
But not intimidating.
For his father's dignity, Kang Mujin kept a straight face and waited silently till the end.
Whew!
With the final form, Invincible Pine Tiger, his father sheathed his blade. The sheathing was flawless—no training marks. It outshone the swordplay itself. Sheathing did look cooler.
"Your turn."
"Yes."
As his son readied without hesitation, Kang U-gyeong steeled himself to see how far he'd get.
Full of style over substance—didn't know who he took after—but form without piercing the essence. Today, he'd drill that in. Or so he planned; if the boy followed even at three forms, it'd be a miracle.
Whoosh, shing!
Kang Mujin's sword dotted the air, tracing lines that formed complete stances.
Hm?
Kang U-gyeong rubbed his eyes and looked again. He'd expected flashy nonsense. But his son's sword faithfully executed the Pine Tiger basics. Form alone? Perfect.
'...No way.'
He loved his son, but trust his skill? No. Always betrayed expectations until he stopped having them. Yet it even looked stronger than his own. Power flowed from the blade.
That would mean grasping not just form, but the essence... Kang U-gyeong shook his head. Sure, he'd gotten his act together lately, but skill didn't jump overnight.
Kang Mujin's sword ended.
"Done."
"What?"
Oh no.
Kang U-gyeong realized he'd zoned out but kept his stern facade.
"Anything to fix?"
"Flashy form doesn't make a sword."
Nothing to critique, so he changed tack. Letting it slide would breed arrogance. Better not to have done it.
"Come at me."
"Yes."
Why's this kid so obedient today?
Not the time.
Kang U-gyeong focused, facing his son's sword. Seemingly perfect, but mismatched power, energy, rhythm, path, speed made it empty husks.
'Thrust here.'
He prided himself on knowing the family Pine Tiger Ten Swords best.
Clack, ting!
His thrust glanced off lamely, returning to position. His son's stubbornly held ground.
"What?"
"...Nothing."
Kang U-gyeong thrust and slashed again. Basic, but his power faltered. Fatherly duty to go easy yielded to pride-preserving will.
Ting, clang!
The sword blocked smoothly.
It frustrated him. It shouldn't block. Why does it? It kept blocking, damn it. Face twisting, control slipping.
Stamina and energy running low.
Slide!
Then Kang Mujin retreated.
"...What's wrong?"
"Tired. Can we stop?"
"About time. Yeah."
"Tomorrow too?"
"...That's enough."
His son backing off tired, Kang U-gyeong sighed in relief. Any longer, and he'd lose face entirely.
"You're as strong as ever."
"Arrogance blocks ascension."
"Wise words."
"Go on."
"Yes."
Watching his son walk off unscathed, Kang U-gyeong grimaced. Not what he'd intended. Wondered if his dignity held.
"Not bad at all."