Chapter 25: Flash Divine Sword Baek Yang-cheon (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 25: Flash Divine Sword Baek Yang-cheon (1)
“I apologize if I startled you.”
The old man offered his regrets.
“He isn’t a disrespectful boy by nature. In fact, he used to be quite well-mannered.”
“Is there a story behind this?” Seok Myeong asked, taking a seat beside him.
It was an unfamiliar sight. In all his life, he had never seen a relationship between master and disciple take such a fractured form.
The old man’s eyes drifted across the empty floor, looking as though he were lost in a distant memory.
“He was a child of immense talent. It wasn't just ordinary talent; it was exceptional. It was enough to make me break my lifelong vow never to take a disciple.”
He continued his story.
“Because of that, I pushed him too hard. I was greedy for results, so even though I knew it was difficult, I constantly rebuked him and drove him forward. I forced him through training that a child’s body should never have had to endure.”
Baek Yang-cheon’s voice grew thick with emotion, but he pressed on.
“It was grueling work, yet the boy endured it in silence. He had lost his mother to swindlers at a young age and was consumed by a desire for revenge. But recently, my methods failed to make him understand the purpose of it all, and that has become his shackle.”
“……”
“To be precise, my method of guidance was flawed. I never showed him the future. I showed him nothing and forced him to cling only to the basics. Because of that, his progress seemed negligible, and at some point, he began to resent me.”
“Could you not have shown him later that he hadn't taken the wrong path?”
“By then, my body was no longer whole. In my greed for higher achievement, I overexerted my internal energy and ended up suffering a severe internal injury. It was simply too late.”
“I see…”
Seok Myeong understood. The reality of having to train while harboring doubts about one's own swordsmanship—it was a situation much like his own.
He, too, had labored ceaselessly under the pressure of having to achieve something invisible. The only difference was that he had believed in Azure Cloud Taoist’s vision of the future, while the young man named Hyeok-jin had lost his faith.
“What is he doing now?”
“He is likely training on the back mountain.”
“If he is still focusing on his training and keeping his posture straight, isn't that a good sign? It means he still has the will to pursue martial arts.”
“That is true. However…” The old man’s expression darkened. “The problem is that he no longer practices the Heavenly White Divine Art.”
“I see… so that’s how it is.”
Seok Myeong nodded. Indeed, a will to pursue martial arts did not necessarily mean a will to practice the arts learned from one's master.
“Do you have somewhere you must be in a hurry?”
“Not yet.”
“Then rest here for a few days. I will discuss your request for a duel later; for now, just stay and observe. The boy will like it, too. He might even welcome you. He is a child who admires the disciples of the Nine Great Sects.”
Seok Myeong nodded and stood up.
“I shall go and meet him.”
*
Hyeok-jin stood in a clearing, staring at his sword, which he held at a diagonal angle. His gaze was fixed on the tip of the blade, and he stood with one leg raised.
It was a peculiar starting stance. It resembled the Independent Step, standing on the right leg with the left raised, but upon closer inspection, his legs were crossed. This was not a posture meant for charging forward to attack an opponent.
“Taat!”
With a sharp shout, the sword dance began.
The first form involved moving to the side and delivering a horizontal slash. As expected, that was the reason he had started with his legs crossed.
The sword’s movements were incredibly dynamic. He moved without hesitation, as if he would cut down anyone who dared to step near. And his speed did not falter. On the contrary, he began to accelerate from the second form onward, until eventually, his thrusts became so fast they were difficult for the naked eye to follow.
Did his form become erratic amidst such speed? Not at all. The lines of every single movement remained perfectly distinct. Not only was there no wasted motion, but each strike was imbued with the power of a certain kill.
Then came the surge of strong internal energy. Seeing the energy extending through the blade, it felt as though an immense power was about to erupt.
But that was as far as it went.
“Dammit!”
Suddenly, a cry of frustrated rage burst from the man’s lips. He began to strike the ground with his sword like a madman.
“Why! Why won't anything come out?! If I do it like this, the Sword Aura is supposed to flow!”
He screamed at the top of his lungs as if his heart were breaking, followed by a string of curses.
“Dammit, I should never have trained under Master Baek in the first place. I should have looked around more… I was so young and foolish that I bit the hook and wasted over ten years.”
With a venomous glare, he threw his sword aside and sprawled out on the ground. No matter how much he practiced his swordsmanship every day, the stifling thirst in his throat remained. It felt as bleak and precarious as climbing a mountain cliff with no end in sight.
“A sword is not something to be handled so carelessly.”
“Who’s there?”
At the sudden voice, he lifted his head and scanned his surroundings. He sensed a young man watching him from across the slope. Judging by his appearance, it was the guest his master had mentioned earlier.
“Ah. My apologies. I’ll say this now to avoid any misunderstanding: I didn't come here to spy on your martial arts. I simply followed you thinking we might have something to talk about, and I happened to see you practicing.”
Seok Myeong was exceptionally careful with his words. In the Jianghu, he knew better than anyone how much resentment could be bred by peeking at another’s secret martial arts. After all, he was from the Qingcheng Sect, which specialized in studying the techniques of others.
However, contrary to Seok Myeong’s concerns, Hyeok-jin gave an unexpected answer.
“I don’t care. Not about such crude martial arts.”
Hyeok-jin showed no particular emotion. Instead, he focused on a different point.
“But you say I shouldn't handle my sword carelessly? How I handle my sword is my business. What does this sword have to do with you?”
“A sword is just a sword. That is why a sword does not lie. There is nothing wrong with the sword, yet you blame it—that is what I wanted to point out.”
“What? The sword doesn't do what? Hahaha, how naive!”
Hyeok-jin laughed as if he had heard something absurd. It wasn't even a living thing, yet he claimed the sword didn't lie? What kind of nonsense was that?
“Judging by your old-fashioned talk, you must be from some prestigious family. Are you from one of the Nine Great Sects or something?”
“I am.”
“...!”
Hyeok-jin’s eyes widened. He had said it as a joke, but it turned out to be true.
“Uh… if it isn't a rude question, which sect are you from?” He suddenly began using formal speech.
“Qingcheng.”
At Seok Myeong’s answer, Hyeok-jin looked flustered. The anger in his voice and the scowl on his face softened significantly. He had long admired the Nine Great Sects. That admiration had only grown stronger the more he resented his master. Since he believed the martial arts he had spent his life learning were third-rate, it was only natural.
He quickly stood up and clasped his hands in a respectful greeting.
“I didn't realize you were a disciple of Qingcheng… Please forgive my rudeness.”
Seok Myeong was a bit surprised by the sudden change in attitude but remained composed.
“No, it’s fine. It happens. Please also forgive me for the fault of watching your martial arts.”
“The fault of watching my martial arts? How could watching such third-rate trash be a crime? It’s not important at all, so don't give it a second thought.”
“……”
Seok Myeong read the man’s heart through that brief exchange. He realized it was exactly as his master, Baek Yang-cheon, had feared. His heart was filled with prejudice against his master’s martial arts.
“If you don't mind, may I ask what martial art you were just performing?”
“It is the Heavenly White Divine Art.”
“Is that the martial art of Master Baek Yang-cheon?”
“It is.” At those words, he gave a bitter smile. “Actually, it can hardly be called a martial art. The name sounds grand, but it doesn't even have proper forms.”
“Hmm.”
“And it’s not just the forms. There are no links connecting the moves, and the flow is terrible. How can this be called a martial art?”
He continued to pour out complaints about the techniques he had learned. Seok Myeong listened quietly before speaking.
“I only saw a little, but I think I agree. It seemed like there were many problems visible even at a glance.”
Perhaps encouraged by Seok Myeong’s agreement, Hyeok-jin raised his voice.
“You can say that again! It’s not just one or two things. From start to finish, not a single thing is right.”
Seok Myeong nodded and continued. “Have you managed to identify all of them?”
“Identify what?”
“The series of problems you mentioned.”
Hyeok-jin spoke as if it were obvious. “Of course.”
To this, Seok Myeong asked back, “What exactly was the problem?”
“First, the heart method is the problem. My master’s internal art is called the Heavenly White Empty Heart Sutra, but far from increasing my internal energy, it just wanders aimlessly around the Dantian. In other words, it has good movement but no substance. Moreover, the power to lead the energy from the lower Dantian is so weak that it takes a full day just to complete One Heavenly Circuit properly. At this rate, it would take a hundred thousand years just to break through the Ren and Du meridians.”
“If the most important heart method is flawed, that is indeed a serious issue.”
“Exactly. Becoming a master is out of the question.”
When Seok Myeong spoke with a sympathetic tone, Hyeok-jin eagerly agreed.
“Is there more?” Seok Myeong asked.
“Yes, next is the footwork. One should follow a set path, but this footwork has no defined route. You can boost your speed for a moment, but you can't sustain the power. That’s not all. If you take a wrong step in the footwork, the power of the strike is even halved. It’s truly one obstacle after another.”
“Hmm… that does sound like a headache. Footwork is the very foundation of operating a sword, after all.”
“Exactly! So you can imagine how I feel.”
Hyeok-jin spoke with heated passion. He seemed excited to have met someone like Seok Myeong who understood his plight, and he kept rambling on. After a while, he was answering questions that hadn't even been asked.
“But above all else, the biggest problem is the sword technique itself. The sword paths are too predictable, and the movement lines are crude. Furthermore, there is no core essence in each form. For example, if you thrust forward, it should lead into the next movement or carry the flow forward, but this only has individual thrusting and slashing forms with no connecting motions. So how can this be a proper martial art?!”
According to Hyeok-jin, the Heavenly White Divine Art lacked connecting movements. Without them, it was just a series of simple attacks—how could those be called proper forms?
On that point, even Seok Myeong had nothing to say. The training method sounded incredibly foreign to him. On the other hand, he could understand the man’s frustration.
“Anything else?”
At Seok Myeong’s prompt, Hyeok-jin thought for a moment before continuing.
“That’s about… Ah! Come to think of it, there’s one more thing.”
He picked up the fallen sword. Seok Myeong sensed that this sword was not Hyeok-jin’s own, but the one that had been in Baek Yang-cheon’s room.
“It looks decent enough, but it’s actually not very good. Look at the faded leather on the hilt. It might just be my imagination, but no power goes into the swings. And there’s more. Unlike normal swords that have a white luster, this one is dark and dull. Doesn't it look cheap at a glance? You can't even find junk like this on the market.”
Seok Myeong silently looked down at the sword. A slender blade, slightly over three feet long, was held in Hyeok-jin’s hand. At some point, Seok Myeong’s brow began to furrow. It was because of the condition of the blade. The edge was badly damaged, likely from a long period of neglect.
“Well, that’s about everything I have to tell you.”
“Are you finished?”
“I am,” Hyeok-jin said confidently.
However, Seok Myeong still had a questioning look in his eyes.
“That’s strange. I feel like I haven't heard everything yet.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Didn't you say earlier that you had found all the problems?”
“I did.”
“Then why haven't you mentioned that?”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
Hyeok-jin shook his head, genuinely confused. He was certain he had listed every single issue.
“You.”
Seok Myeong looked at Hyeok-jin and pointed a finger at him.
“I am talking about you.”