The Third-Rate Warrior Saving the Girl (2)
Bi-cheol Pavilion was the grand hall closest to the sect leader's quarters, reserved for Iron Sword Sect's most important guests. As such, its facilities were impressive, but more than that, its security was formidable.
Yet today, not a single guard stood at their posts where they should have been swarming.
That was because Jegal Somyeong was currently using Bi-cheol Pavilion—and because that same Jegal Somyeong was personally examining the condition of a certain man who had shoved the entire Iron Sword Sect into a cesspit. No warrior dared stand watch there.
"……."
Seong Moran circled aimlessly around the pavilion, sighing needlessly.
It wasn't because of the strained relations between the Murim Alliance and Iron Sword Sect.
It was because of that man whose condition Jegal Somyeong was checking—the one who had inflicted damage on Iron Sword Sect so severe that even dousing the whole place in oil and setting it ablaze wouldn't have matched it.
"Haa……."
Seong Moran let out a sigh at her own inexplicable emotions.
She felt a strange kinship in the way he had overwhelmed Seong Mohyeon.
His movements relied not on internal energy or forms, but purely on improvisation born of relentless effort.
Only Seong Moran, who had desperately sought ways to beat Seong Mohyeon without relying on internal energy or forms, could recognize it.
And on top of that.
[Pay the price!]
[Pay the just price for this vile act you and your descendants have committed!]
The resolute cry as he spat blood while reciting poetry.
[Then... I shall claim the price in blood.]
The conviction and will to face certain death against an overwhelming foe.
Seong Moran couldn't tear her eyes away from Jin Sowoon—spitting blood, eyes flashing fiercely even as everyone from her grandfather and father to her brothers and the sect's warriors faced dire straits.
'How can that man... be like this?')
He was the enemy, yet watching him made her heart pound wildly.
At the same time, an aching, wistful pain filled her chest.
And in the end, when he proved his poetry and collapsed as if fainting.
Seong Moran had to stop herself from rushing to him without thinking.
"Hoo."
What was she supposed to do now...? Their relationship could no longer be approached with mere curiosity.
Now they were enemies, making it even more impossible.
She knew that, yet she had no idea why she was still lingering here.
'No, this won't do.'
As Seong Moran gritted her teeth to leave, the sound of a door creaking open rang out.
Jin Sowoon emerged into the courtyard, pale-faced, clutching the Gu-jung Sword.
Seong Moran hurriedly averted her gaze to avoid meeting his eyes.
"……."
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
But he passed by as if she were invisible.
Her heart, which had barely calmed, began pounding fiercely again.
"You... were too reckless."
She regretted it the moment the words slipped out unbidden.
Under Jin Sowoon's cold gaze as he turned, her chest ached even more sharply.
"What do you mean by that?"
"The spar... why did you go that far?"
"……You mean I should have just meekly accepted the humiliation?"
"No... that's not what I... "
Words contrary to her heart spilled out unwittingly.
But she didn't even know what she wanted to say, so she just blurted them out.
As Jin Sowoon took a step closer, Seong Moran instinctively stepped back.
"Was your thinking correct?"
"……Pardon?"
"I asked if your thinking was correct. My father knelt, and even as I spat blood, I couldn't endure the humiliation and challenged your grandfather to a deathmatch. Can you still proudly claim your sect isn't that despicable?"
"……."
Seong Moran bit her lower lip hard.
She had nothing to say.
Would excuses like "I didn't know" or "It doesn't concern me" really absolve her?
Would they heal his wounds?
Such thoughts swirled in her mind.
"...I'm sorry."
Twenty years ago, they had humiliated her father the same way—and now, twenty years later, they repeated it.
Conversely, if she were in his position, could she forgive it? Let it slide?
Impossible.
"I understand. Lift your head."
"Pardon?"
Seong Moran wondered if she'd misheard.
Really? This easily? He was accepting her apology so readily that she, who had apologized, felt ashamed instead.
"Lady Seong, you are the first and last person to receive my apology from within Iron Sword Sect. It likely won't happen again."
"……Is it really okay for someone like me to...?"
"We can't keep carrying on this cycle of misfortune forever, can we?"
"What do you...?"
"If Lady Seong feels even a fingernail's worth of remorse for today's events, then change Iron Sword Sect so it doesn't become like this anymore. Someday, Tae-eul Gate and Iron Sword Sect might even cooperate."
An inexplicable surge of emotion welled up in Seong Moran.
Yes. This was the kind of person he was.
Jin Sowoon was this kind of person.
Her brother, her grandfather—they couldn't even utter a single apology, and that's why things escalated.
Her already immense guilt doubled into torment and gratitude, bursting forth.
"……I'm truly sorry."
"Tears don't suit a warrior."
Seong Moran wiped her eyes, inwardly relieved at his gentle tone.
"Is your body alright?"
"When I took the palm strike, the tangled qi and blood didn't settle properly, so I'll need to recuperate for a while."
"……."
"Don't worry too much. Tae-eul Gate's heart technique is pure, so a year or so of rest should fix it."
"……A, a year?"
"Yes. I won't be able to take the Murim Academy exam properly, but hey, skipping Murim Academy doesn't mean life goes down the drain. Haha."
How precious was a year to a warrior not yet thirty?
After a year, Jin Sowoon wouldn't just lag behind Iron Sword Sect warriors—he'd be far ahead even of Tae-eul Gate's own.
Yet he showed no injustice or anger at her apology.
To him, such trials were nothing.
No—his life had already been filled with far greater ordeals, making him numb to these.
Seong Moran settled the dilemma she'd pondered while waiting in the courtyard: to give it or not.
No, his words made further hesitation unnecessary.
It was something she'd received as a direct descendant of the Sword Sage Hermit, but hadn't consumed yet herself.
She took it out.
"What's this?"
"Regardless, I'm still from Iron Sword Sect. It won't fully resolve things, but please accept it as my sincerity. Of course, I don't think this compensates for our sect's actions. But as you said, young master, I hope Tae-eul Gate and Iron Sword Sect can have a good relationship going forward."
Jin Sowoon eyed the wooden box for a moment before slowly accepting it.
"Lady Seong bears a heavier burden carrying Iron Sword Sect than Tae-eul Gate does. Still, I'll accept your heart."
Why was she born to Iron Sword Sect, and he to Tae-eul Gate?
Seong Moran grieved over her birth in a way Seong Mohyeon's existence never made her feel.
"I hope next time we meet, we can smile."
At Seong Moran's trembling voice, Jin Sowoon finally smiled faintly.
"I hope so too."
# On the third day, we left Iron Sword Sect.
Naturally, no one saw us off.
Gang Chaeseok had wrapped the Gu-jung Sword in cloth instead of me and clutched it to his chest all night, refusing to let go even on the road back to Tae-eul Gate.
"Still, taking it into the bathroom is a bit much, isn't it?"
"What assassin would strike in the bathroom?"
"Don't you know? Bathrooms are the second most common assassination spot for elite killers after all time. Even the top ten masters can't relax when they're straining."
"……."
With that persuasion, I finally got him to leave the Gu-jung Sword behind when using the bathroom.
Meanwhile, rumors had reached Tae-eul Gate first—but no one inside believed them.
It wasn't far anyway, so using messengers for news was wasteful, and the rumors were too unbelievable, so everyone pretended not to hear.
But when they saw the item Gang Chaeseok brought in, hugging it like a lover—the Gu-jung Sword— the elders and hall lords gathered in Daehyeonjeon embraced each other, shedding tears of joy.
For Tae-eul Gate, which had endured nothing but humiliation and grief since Iron Sword Sect appeared, this was the moment 150 years of resentment dissolved—not just elders, but even Busengdang's young disciples screamed and hugged one another.
You couldn't let a day like this pass quietly.
The elders insisted on heading to the outer halls for a feast, but my father—stubborn as a rusty bolt—proposed a frugal gathering due to budget shortages.
"How can we? Disciple Jin Sowoon of Tae-eul Gate risked his life to seize the Gu-jung Sword."
Even Sect Leader Hong Moon-gi stepped up to Outer Hall Lord Jin Taesan, but he wouldn't budge.
"I risked my life too, and so did Kwaehwa Hall's lord. You worried about skimping on the kids' side dishes for half a year over one feast?"
"This isn't ordinary. Sowoon defended Tae-eul Gate's honor."
"I know, I know. So let's just keep it to a simple gathering."
"……Then I'll put up my personal funds."
With Jin Taesan blocking the feast like a Jangpanpa general, Hong Moon-gi eventually emptied his emergency stash—and inspired by him, the elders and hall lords chipped in their pocket money for the feast.
"Father, we're not that hard up, are we?"
I asked, recalling the ledgers I always checked for calculations, and Father grinned smugly.
"Thanks to you, we got the sect leader and elders to cough up their emergency funds. Can't have them wasting public money on frivolities."
"……."
Word of the feast spread to Gye-ryong Merchant Group, and Gye Yeonseok frantically offered two cows, five pigs, and ten jars of liquor, wagging his tail like mad.
This time, his usual obnoxious arrogance was nowhere to be seen—because Gye Cheolyeong had vanished right when Tae-eul Gate folks were ready for a deathmatch at Iron Sword Sect. He couldn't show his face.
Of the three Iron Heart Pills we'd received from Iron Sword Sect, two went to Saryeon and me, and the last to a promising disciple later.
Gye Yeonseok tried meeting the sect leader separately, offering three inns if we gave one Iron Heart Pill to Gye Cheolyeong to save face—but Hong Moon-gi sternly warned that he'd hear no more such nonsense or he'd chase Gye Cheolyeong out of Tae-eul Gate himself.
"They're insane, insane. Do they know how much an Iron Heart Pill costs?"
"Still, thanks to it, Busengdang kids are training harder."
"You little shit. Three inns in Hebi make enough for five Iron Heart Pills a year! No wonder my gut's twisting!"
"If you're gonna grumble, wipe that smile off your face."
"What'd you say, punk?!"
"I'm heading out."
"Where to now?"
"Tired of hearing you whine about money, so I'm off to make some."
"You brat! What money are you gonna make?!"
"See you later."
The time had finally come to boot Gye-ryong Merchant Group out of Tae-eul Gate.