One Spear, Many Paths
Woo-gang and Geomwang decided to stay a while longer at the Ak Family, at Ak Jung-san's earnest plea.
They had already sent a letter to the Dang Family, so until a reply came, it felt like the bare minimum of responsibility to stick around.
Ak Jung-san seemed eager to leave Woo-gang with a favorable impression of the Ak Family this time.
He sought Woo-gang out whenever he had a moment, inquiring after his well-being and offering to show him around the family grounds.
Woo-gang needed quiet time to sort through his thoughts about the days ahead, but seeing Ak Jung-san's desperation, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
Ak Jung-san extended the same invitations to Geomwang, but they were flatly rejected—the old man's poor impression was already set in stone.
Geomwang was such a senior figure, untouchable even in the murim world, that Ak Jung-san dared not press further.
"This is where the Ak Family's main forces train."
Ak Jung-san guided Woo-gang to the largest training ground in the compound as he spoke.
As they drew near, the shouts of the training warriors rang out.
Whether it was because they'd been forewarned or the sight of Geomwang and Woo-gang had ignited their motivation, the cries were impressively vigorous.
"Don't disturb them."
"Ah, yes."
Ak Jung-san, who had hoped to introduce Woo-gang properly and create an opportunity for guidance, swallowed his regret and replied.
Woo-gang and Ak Jung-san stopped at a distance and quietly watched the warriors train.
The synchronized movements, shouts, and precise angles looked rather impressive.
But Woo-gang frowned.
Ak Jung-san, beaming with pride at the sight, glanced sideways and caught Woo-gang's furrowed expression.
'Is something not to his liking?'
From that moment, a whirlwind of worries flooded Ak Jung-san's mind.
As cold sweat beaded on his brow from the mounting thoughts, Woo-gang suddenly stepped forward toward the training ground.
The Ak Family warriors noticed his approach and halted their spears in unison, hesitating in confusion.
"Mind if I take a quick look at your spear?"
Woo-gang approached one warrior and asked.
At the words from Yeom Wang's disciple, the man flushed with excitement and handed over his spear.
The other warriors watched with envious eyes.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Woo-gang lightly swung the proffered spear.
Gripping it firmly as it danced freely from his hand, he handed it back.
"Here you go."
"Yes."
Even though it was his own spear, the warrior received it back like a treasured artifact.
Woo-gang turned to another warrior.
He made the same request, swung the spear a few times, and returned it.
"All these spears are the same length and weight. The others too?"
Ak Jung-san hurried over and nodded at Woo-gang's question.
"Yes, but..."
Woo-gang stared at him with baffled eyes.
"Why?"
"Pardon?"
"Everyone has different arm lengths, builds, and strength. A short weapon like a sword might not matter as much, but a spear is heavily influenced by its length and weight. So why does everyone use the exact same one?"
Woo-gang asked with genuine curiosity.
Ak Jung-san couldn't provide a proper answer.
Watching him falter, Woo-gang felt truly perplexed.
He'd heard the Ak Family had once dominated with their spear arts.
Did they not even grasp this most basic principle?
There might be circumstances hard to explain, but to the Ak Family, the spear was symbolic.
Now, it felt like they wielded it merely for show.
"What you were practicing just now isn't martial arts training."
Woo-gang stated firmly.
He met the bewildered gazes of the Ak Family warriors steadily and continued.
"It's the same principle as each person needing a spear suited to their own length and weight. Your martial achievements differ, and so do your personal tendencies in wielding them. How can you perform the exact same movements without a single deviation?"
"It's because they're in the same unit, and coordination is key..."
Ak Jung-san hurriedly offered an excuse, but Woo-gang didn't even glance his way.
His eyes fixed solely on the warriors, he pressed on.
"If everyone moves in perfectly uniform motions at the same speed, who could possibly fall for it? Even in synchronized movements, there must be irregular flows to corner your opponent. How do you expect to fight and defeat enemies like this?"
Hyeoncheon Yeolhwa Singong, Hong Yeom Cheon Ui Chang, Chu Pung Gu Hwan Bo.
All the arts Woo-gang had learned emphasized ascension.
Some might think he could say such things only because he'd mastered exceptional techniques.
But Woo-gang's words were profoundly basic.
Si-woo had adjusted the length and weight of the training staff to match Woo-gang's growth.
He'd thrust it at the wall thousands of times to master the motion, but learning Hong Yeom Cheon Ui Chang taught him nothing could ever be perfectly identical.
The insight into how irregular variations within steady rhythms bewildered foes and created advantageous flows came from practicing Chu Pung Gu Hwan Bo.
Woo-gang didn't see it as anything special.
It was simply obvious, fundamental.
Yet these warriors deviated from that foundation.
Woo-gang was baffled.
Was what he took for granted not so for them?
Was what he considered basic an enlightenment-level revelation for them?
Woo-gang spoke not out of any special affection for the Ak Family or grand intentions.
He was just more interested because they trained the spear like he did, and as a spear practitioner, he couldn't stay silent.
To exaggerate, their display felt disrespectful to the spear itself.
As Woo-gang fell silent, quiet descended.
Geomwang broke it.
"That's the reality of the Ak Family now."
The mood lightened briefly at his entrance, then grew heavy again.
No trace of expectation showed in Geomwang's expression or tone.
He'd held none, so there was no disappointment.
That was the vibe he exuded.
"The old Ak Family spear arts weren't like this. I've never seen them myself, so I judge by tales, but they say it was a spear unbreakable, unpredictable, one you'd dread facing."
Geomwang swept his gaze over Ak Jung-san and the warriors as he continued.
"Stories get embellished, but even accounting for that, it's worlds apart from what you have now. Martial arts don't just evolve with time—they regress too. They advance only with the will and effort to improve them, and I see none of that in your current spear arts. Nor in those wielding them."
No one dared speak against Geomwang's rebuke.
"Whether your arts advance or decline is up to you. Think on it. How many sects and families dotted the Central Plains? Countless have vanished. Even constant effort barely preserves a lineage, so the Ak Family surviving this long is commendable."
It was a dagger to the heart.
The Ak Family could vanish any day without surprise.
The atmosphere sank endlessly.
"What should we do?"
One Ak Family warrior mustered the courage to ask.
Geomwang looked at him.
Amid eyes dulled by broken will and shaken confidence, a few still flickered with unextinguished fire.
But Geomwang offered no answer.
"Guidance isn't begged for lightly. You seek it after pondering yourself, finding your path, setting your direction. No matter what this child or I say, you couldn't accept it now."
Geomwang turned away.
And Woo-gang shared the sentiment.
The method Si-woo had used in his training.
Perhaps brutally harsh, but the most effective.
"To perfect my thrust, I stabbed the wall thousands of times. Grandfather showed it once, corrected my stance at the start, and said nothing more. All I could do was obsess over perfecting the motion—thinking, agonizing, visualizing it in my mind, moving my body. Days felt too short. What about you?"
It was a question he could pose because he prided himself on striving harder than anyone.
With that, Woo-gang turned too.
Silence lingered long on the training ground they left behind.
Geomwang and Woo-gang walked side by side.
"Why'd you do that? Stepping up with all that grand talk. That's not like you."
Woo-gang let out a small sigh at Geomwang's question.
"I don't know. Feels pointless now, but... it got to me."
"Why?"
"The spear means more to me than anything. Watching their training, it felt like they were neglecting it. A family built on spears treating it so carelessly—I couldn't stand it."
Words spoken on impulse, unbidden.
Geomwang smiled faintly.
"That makes sense. Who knows if our words will change them, but if they improve even a little... it'll help you someday."
"I wasn't hoping for that."
"I know. But ties work that way. Whatever your intent, if it positively touches them, it'll return as karma somehow. The world turns on such connections."
Woo-gang nodded at Geomwang's words.
Without his time in the Murim Alliance forging bonds with others, he might not grasp it.
But now, he felt he understood, at least a bit.
"Talking so much after ages—I'm starving. Not in the mood amid that deathly vibe, though. Wanna eat out?"
Woo-gang glanced at him and smiled.
"Treat me to something pricey."
"You brat, I live on an allowance too. Gotta fleece someone who can afford it."
Geomwang grumbled, and Woo-gang grinned happily.
The weight on his heart lightened somewhat.
That day, Woo-gang truly feasted on expensive fare.
And Geomwang grumbled but watched Woo-gang eat with delight, content.
The bill? He'd wring it from his son, Dok Go-yeong-mu.