Chapter 45
Episode 45
Thousand-Sight Instructor (2)
"......What do you mean?"
After a delayed reaction, Dae-woong denied Yeo-seon's words.
But Yeo-seon continued without the slightest hesitation.
"Your grip strength rivals even the inner-city warriors of the Martial Alliance. The pulling force from your arm muscles is also exceptionally developed."
"......."
"Moreover, your unusually broad shoulders and scapulae so developed they appear almost curved—these are all—"
The fierce lion-like gaze swept over Dae-woong once more.
"—characteristics found in archers who draw powerful bows."
"—!"
"Drawing a bow requires arm and grip strength, while maintaining the drawn bowstring relies on back muscles."
For a moment, Dae-woong tightly shut his eyes.
He had instinctively realized that all his secrets had been exposed.
But only for a moment.
Soon, his expression cleared.
Now that things had come to this, he decided to lay everything bare.
"You chose the whip technique as a second-best option to conceal your true martial art, correct?"
"Yes, that's right."
A coiled whip slid out from his sleeve.
Yeo-seon frowned deeply, displeased by the sight.
"Hmm, I suppose you chose it because your pulling strength could enhance its effectiveness. But for someone with your innate physique and talent, the whip technique is nothing but poison."
"......!"
"Your strengths, Warrior Dae-woong, lie in your unshakable composure, concentration, and—"
Yeo-seon paused, extending a finger.
After sensing the wind flowing between his fingers, he spoke slowly.
"—your unique vision that perceives the flow of the wind, and your archery."
"—!"
Yeo-seon's sharp gaze locked onto Dae-woong.
"I see. Your power originates from the 'Great Steppe.'"
Just by seeing.
Everyone in the hall, except Se-woon, was stunned by Yeo-seon's terrifying ability to deduce even one's origins.
'He's even more impressive than I thought.'
Se-woon watched the performance of the talent he had taken from the Martial Alliance and was genuinely amazed.
Yeo-seon.
In his past life, his title had been 'Thousand-Sight Instructor.'
With one glance, he could discern a thousand talents.
With two, a thousand weaknesses.
Across both orthodox and unorthodox factions, he was hailed as the greatest instructor in the world—and that very man stood before him now.
What made all this possible was the power of Yeo-seon's eyes.
Yet, they were fundamentally different from the supernatural eyes possessed by the Martial Alliance Leader or the Sword Empress.
'Yeo-seon simply has impossibly sharp observational skills.'
That was it. Astonishingly, Yeo-seon possessed no transcendent abilities—not even a shred of internal energy in his body.
He only had overwhelmingly superior observational skills and
knowledge so profound that he could engage in equal discourse with the Martial Alliance Leader on martial theory and techniques.
Had he possessed only one of these talents, he might have been merely an exceptional craftsman.
But the combination of both created an extraordinary synergy.
The ability to identify weaknesses in an opponent's martial arts also meant he could teach the fastest ways to overcome those flaws.
Thus, Yeo-seon provided each of his disciples with optimized training methods.
As a result, during the desperate war, he produced an unprecedented number of rising masters.
Moreover, he instantly analyzed and countered the Blood Cult's bizarre techniques, devising countless strategies to oppose them.
'The title of "Greatest Instructor in the World" wasn't given lightly.'
Had Yeo-seon lived longer and trained more successors,
the Blood Cult's conquest of the martial world would have been delayed by years.
'But reality didn't allow that.'
In his past life, Yeo-seon's end had been tragic and miserable.
On the day the Martial Alliance split in half,
Yeo-seon sided not with Sword Empress Do Ha-young's Anti-Blood Faction but with the White Path Coalition.
It wasn't that he abandoned the warriors on the frontlines to join the rear-guard White Path.
His chosen lord was none other than the leader of the White Path Coalition.
He believed that in a world where the Sword Emperor had vanished, only that man could stand against the Blood Demon.
But in the end, Yeo-seon's choice proved utterly wrong.
As the Anti-Blood Faction collapsed and the war against the Blood Cult reached its climax—
'......Yeo-seon was framed by traitors who had defected to the Blood Cult and sold off in chains.'
The psychological shock aged him overnight into an old man.
His countless disciples wept tears of blood as they followed his procession.
Yeo-seon urged them not to follow him and left his final words:
—......It's no one's fault. Only mine, for choosing the wrong master from the start.
In the end, upon arriving at the Blood Cult, he met a gruesome death at the hands of waiting fiends.
But his brilliance remained etched in Se-woon's memory.
So when the time came to demand compensation from the Martial Alliance,
Yeo-seon was the first name that came to mind.
'His abilities first became known when the Alliance Leader coincidentally visited the Military Affairs Hall and engaged in a martial discourse with him.'
That moment was still years away.
Se-woon had effectively accelerated time by years.
'If Yeo-seon and I join forces, we can explosively elevate the Tang Family's potential.'
A glint of excitement flickered in Se-woon's eyes.
Thud.
Suddenly, Dae-woong knelt before Se-woon.
With his head bowed, he spoke in a somber voice.
"......Sir Yeo is correct."
"—!"
"I apologize, Young Lord. My homeland was never the Central Plains—it was the Great Yuan."
At Dae-woong's confession, the Jang brothers were stunned.
Even after years together in Sichuan, they had never known this.
To them, the Great Yuan—
often called the Northern Yuan or Tatars by Central Plains folk—were descendants of the Great Steppe.
"......It may sound like an excuse, but I hid it out of fear that my origins would bar me from the Tang Elite Unit."
Dae-woong spoke bitterly.
The Central Plains still harbored a disdainful tradition of labeling northerners as barbarians.
Even the term 'Tatar' carried the same derogatory meaning.
Silence filled the hall.
Feeling guilty for exposing a secret, Yeo-seon was at a loss.
"......."
Then, Se-woon, who had remained silent, suddenly moved to his quarters.
Seeing this, Dae-woong weakly lowered his head.
But moments later—
Thud.
Se-woon returned and tossed something before Dae-woong.
Startled, Dae-woong's eyes widened like lanterns as he examined the objects.
"They're prototypes from my childhood, but their performance should suffice."
"......What are these?"
"Don't you need a new bow and arrows for training?"
"—!"
Indeed, what Se-woon had brought from his room were bows and arrows he had crafted long ago.
Realizing Se-woon's intent, Dae-woong trembled violently.
"......Are you truly alright with this?"
"What do you mean?"
"My origins......"
"What does that matter?"
Se-woon countered, bewildering Dae-woong further.
"Dae-woong. Are you a Tang clansman or not?"
"—!"
"Answer me. Are you a Tang clansman or not?"
Gulp.
Suppressing his trembling heart, Dae-woong shouted with all his might.
"Yes! I am unquestionably a Tang clansman!"
"Then never again utter such nonsense."
"Understood—!"
Clutching the bow and arrows, Dae-woong stepped aside.
Se-woon turned to face Yeo-seon, who stood dumbfounded.
Their gazes clashed in the air.
"The descendants of the Great Steppe each have their own unique archery styles, as I understand."
Yeo-seon was instantly overwhelmed by the Young Lord's presence.
Then, Se-woon called out to him.
"Chief Instructor Yeo-seon."
"Yes!"
"You will dismantle and reconstruct Dae-woong's hereditary archery. First, establish its framework. Can you do it?"
"Of course!"
Dae-woong and the Jang brothers watched, their hearts pounding as if about to burst.
They realized that siding with the Young Lord had been the best decision of their lives.
"Yeo-seon handles the theory! I'll oversee the martial completion and infusion of poison power!"
"Understood!"
"Consider sleep something for the dead!"
"Understood—!!"
The small training hall echoed with their resounding shouts.
Shortly after, in Se-woon's quarters.
Yeo-seon stood alone with Se-woon.
After briefly cradling his teacup, Yeo-seon fixed his lion-like gaze on Se-woon.
But—
'......Still, I see nothing.'
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't discern even the slightest detail about Se-woon.
In one light, he seemed like an ordinary man who had never learned martial arts.
In another, like a master concealing transcendent skills.
Thus, Yeo-seon had no choice but to ask directly.
"How did you know?"
How did you know of my existence in the Martial Alliance and request me as a guard?
How did you know of abilities I've never revealed?
Yeo-seon's question carried countless doubts.
"How do you think I knew?"
"—!"
Biting his lower lip, Yeo-seon retorted sharply.
"I've revealed myself to the martial world only once."
"Do you truly believe that?"
"......!"
The cryptic exchange continued.
But even Se-woon's smallest question sent ripples through Yeo-seon's mind.
"......You deduced my identity through the anonymous letters."
"You're sharp."
A year ago, a series of letters had shaken the martial world.
Anonymous missives, detailing flaws and remedies for foundational martial techniques, were sent to renowned sects across the Central Plains—including the Nine Great Schools and Eight Major Families.
They raged, vowing to punish the sender severely.
Some dismissed the uproar over mere basic techniques, but—
'Only those ignorant of martial arts would say that.'
Basic techniques form the foundation of all higher-level martial arts.
To dismantle their principles meant reconstructing entire sect strategies—no trivial matter.
'Though, truthfully, Yeo-seon was just testing his abilities in his youth.'
That was all.
But when the repercussions spiraled beyond control, fear drove him into hiding.
Only after his death was Yeo-seon revealed as the sender—a fact Se-woon knew from the Blood Cult's intelligence.
He added quietly,
"Sending one to the Namgung Family was a mistake."
"—!"
"Those hypocrites pretended they never received it, but they're still sharpening their blades, hunting you."
Yeo-seon's eyes trembled violently, as if struck by an earthquake.
'It's true—!'
He had sent a letter to the Namgung Family.
Yet they remained silent, leaking nothing to other factions.
But impossibly, the man before him knew.
Of course, Se-woon knew from his past life.
The Namgung Family had been Yeo-seon's former master's faction.
Using the letters as pretext, that man had cunningly recruited Yeo-seon.
'But not in this life.'
Se-woon decided to conclude the matter.
"Among men, Lü Bu; among horses, Red Hare."
"—!"
"Last descendant of Lü Bu—Yeo-seon."
Yeo-seon gaped in shock.
Se-woon had just revealed knowledge that should have been impossible to know.
"H-how?!"
Se-woon smirked and continued.
"Does that matter?"
"Wh-who are you?"
"Your lifelong wish—"
"......!"
"—I'll let you witness the pinnacle of martial study."
In his past life, Yeo-seon had joined the Martial Alliance as a strategist for one reason:
To enter the Heavenly Martial Library—accessible only to the highest echelons—where all martial texts and secret manuals of the Central Plains were compiled.
Trembling, Yeo-seon asked,
"......How will you show me?"
Se-woon didn't answer with words.
Whoosh—!
Kwaaa—!
"?!"
He simply unleashed all his power at once.
Golden Arm Energy, Reverse Heaven Energy, Divine Poison Energy, Innate True Energy.
Precisely contained within his room.
A breathtaking spectacle of four transcendent energies swirling simultaneously unfolded.
'Ah, ah—'
Though Yeo-seon lacked even a wisp of internal energy,
the overwhelming pressure forced him to his knees.
As he struggled to discern dream from reality, Se-woon spoke.
"When I unify these energies—I promise, you'll see the same martial pinnacle your ancestor reached."
Yeo-seon's lifelong ambition:
To witness the martial apex his ancestor, the Martial God Lü Bu, had achieved—
and synthesize it anew through martial study.
"Follow me."
Se-woon's words carried a bold meaning—not the Martial Alliance, but him.
Yet, for some reason—
Yeo-seon couldn't help but smile.
The man before him was a dormant dragon, hiding his true form until now.
Thud!
Yeo-seon knelt on one knee and bowed his head.
"I, Yeo-seon, greet my lord."