Mancheon Asks His Master (6)
No way. A martial art that even a smart guy like me can't learn? That's bullshit. Was he just making excuses because he didn't want to teach me? I knew my master's personality made that unlikely, but I was desperate to learn Dual Hands Mutual Combat, so I latched onto his words and kept pushing.
"No! You only taught me half of the Dog-Beating Stick Technique and won't even teach me Dual Hands Mutual Combat. I'm hurt. Am I really your disciple?"
I hadn't realized it before, but the Dog-Beating Stick Technique was a staff art performed with a staff in both hands. That's why my master, considerate of my lame leg, had focused on forms that could be executed with a single-hand staff.
Honestly, even that was plenty strong and practical—no complaints there. But to me, now obsessed with Dual Hands Mutual Combat, none of that mattered.
Sacrificing the past for the present. I knew I was being ungrateful, but I wanted Dual Hands Mutual Combat so bad. Sorry, Master. I'll make it up to you later.
"Heh heh~ It wasn't half-assed teaching; I taught you the essentials. In fact, I trimmed the useless parts, so you could call it the revised Dog-Beating Stick Technique."
"Heh heh~ Half the forms are gone, and you call that revised? More like the fake Dog-Beating Stick Technique."
My master listened, chuckled quietly to himself, then suddenly nodded as if he finally understood my behavior.
"You're usually so mature, but seeing you throw a tantrum like a kid... you must really want to learn Dual Hands Mutual Combat. ...Yeah, I get it—not being able to learn a martial art you crave is infuriating."
His unexpected empathy caught me off guard, and I tilted my head in confusion.
"You've got a martial art you couldn't learn, Master?"
From what he'd shown so far, he could know every martial art in the world, and I wouldn't bat an eye. Seeing him like this was intriguing.
"Plenty. Mancheon, the world is vast, and there are countless martial arts. ...Way more than I could ever know."
That last bit came out almost like a lament. Martial artists love their arts, sure, but Master's thirst for martial knowledge bordered on excessive. He already knew dozens—maybe hundreds—of profound techniques that could make him unbeatable with just one. So why wander the world seeking more? It didn't make sense.
"I've heard most martial artists only learn and train in their sect's arts. Why do you study and master so many? And... do we even have a sect?"
I hadn't planned to ask, but the moment felt right, so I went for the questions I'd always wondered about. The mood was different from usual—he seemed open to sharing.
As expected, he paused for a beat, then looked at me with kind yet dry gray eyes, like he'd decided to open up.
"Because I'm not a martial artist—I'm a martial scholar. That's why I have no sect affiliation."
"...Martial... scholar?"
Body and mind—two words that didn't mix. First time hearing the term. But hey, Murim world. Scholars studying martial arts? Sure, why not.
"Manchun, what do you think martial arts are?"
It seemed random, but I'd gotten used to Master's questions like this. They were his way of passing down life lessons. Best not to overthink—just answer honestly.
"Hm... Never really thought about it much; too busy learning. But if I had to say, they're fun techniques."
"Fun techniques?"
"Yeah. Wind from your hands, flower scents from swordplay, doing things no normal human could through training. How cool is that? I wanna keep learning fun stuff like that forever."
"I'm a wanderer; I can't teach you forever. How do you plan to learn martial arts going forward?"
"Obviously, find new masters. Man, woman, old, young—doesn't matter. If they've got something to teach that I wanna learn, I'll take 'em as master and soak it up."
To some ears, that sounded arrogant as hell, like "You leaving? No biggie, I'll just snag another master." But Master just laughed—threw his head back and bellowed toward the sky.
"Yes! That's it! If you wanna learn, keep learning endlessly! If you've got questions, keep asking!"
He sprang to his feet. He was always big, but today his presence was overwhelming, like a towering mountain.
"Ignore what Murim folk say—sects, history, bloodlines, whatever! Martial arts are just tools!"
A fierce aura dominated the air, nothing like his usual mild self. His kind eyes blazed with ambition.
"Does this world have righteous swords and evil swords? No! Martial arts are the same. 'Righteous' or 'evil' arts? Just people deciding on a whim."
He paused briefly, then added cautiously,
"...Some so-called demonic arts involve eating skulls and human flesh, but those are freakish nonsense—not worth discussing."
Throwing in extra wisdom mid-rant for his disciple. Classic Master.
"In the end, it's the hand on the hilt and how you wield it. People matter. Righteousness and chivalry matter. True righteousness isn't bound by tools."
Martial arts are just tools. Nothing more. If the prideful sect warriors heard that, they'd swarm to tear him apart.
...Actually, maybe some already had.
"Even if heaven itself stands in my way, I'll learn and study every martial art in existence."
"...Why? What're you gonna do with all the world's martial arts?"
Respect for my master mixed with fear of this incomprehensible man, my voice trembled as I asked.
And Master answered in his usual kind, resolute tone.
"Once you've learned, you teach the next generation, obviously."
Made sense... but kinda deflating. For a second, I'd fantasized he was collecting every art to forge the ultimate technique, conquer Murim, and rule the world. Silly dream.
"Find a place with a big courtyard. Teach promising folks the four virtues—benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom—then teach them martial arts."
Gathering treasures alone on a thorny path, only to give them away. I couldn't help but laugh at his casual declaration. So very Master.
Collecting the world's martial arts to teach in a courtyard~ Grand yet humble, utterly cool dream.
But that's that, and this is this. Laughing warmly with him to keep things friendly, I pressed again.
"Thanks for the great story, Master. ...So, when do I get Dual Hands Mutual Combat?"
Long story short, I didn't learn it. Well, I got the theory. But...
Thinking it over, I didn't really need it to survive. Wasn't even that great anyway. Better practice Celestial North Dipper Formation...
...More precisely, I learned it, but like Master said, I couldn't use it. Nailed the theory perfectly, but my hands tangled every time I tried.
It's fine. Dual Hands Mutual Combat was probably sour grapes anyway.
Ego bruised, I pouted like a duck. Master, finding it funny yet pitiful, pulled out a new art.
"Heh heh~ Can't be helped, kid. I'll teach you a new one instead of Dual Hands Mutual Combat."
"New martial art?"
Seeing my interest, he raised his left hand and explained.
"The fist art my left hand used earlier, clashing with my right in Dual Hands Mutual Combat. It's called Empty Brightness Fist, one of the seventy-two Daoist arts, infused with Daoist teachings."
Emptybrightnessfist. A fist that empties light? Empty could mean sky too—fist that illuminates the heavens? No clue from the name.
"And I'll teach you a lightness skill called Golden Goose Skill."
"Pardon? Lightness skill? Master, I'm a cripple. Can't even run—why lightness skill?"
"Isn't your staff your arm and leg? Use your good left leg and staff to perform it."
"That's possible?!"
Stunned by his nonchalant words, I blurted it out. Master grinned mischievously on his ugly mug, teasing me.
"You're Sima Mancheon, the heaven-deceiving genius, aren't you? This should be a breeze."
Stroked my pride, I steeled my baby-faced resolve and shouted.
"How dare you doubt my genius! Challenge accepted!"