A Second-Rate Warrior Preparing to Soar
“He’s insane. Completely insane. How can a person do something this crazy?”
“S-Senior Sister… but there are elders here, and I’m the senior brother…”
“Senior brother my ass! Are you right in the head or not? Grabbing a sword with your bare hand? What if Namgung San had yanked it free… Ugh…”
Hong Saryeon shuddered violently before unleashing a barrage of slaps on Jin Sowoon’s back with her palm.
The elders and hall leaders of Tae-eul Gate chuckled at the sight. Not everyone, though. Jin Taesan and Hong Moon-gi watched with different expressions.
Having witnessed his son’s madness firsthand, Jin Taesan bellowed thunderously.
“You fool! Even in a spar with wooden swords, you don’t grab the blade with your hand!”
The offender simply clamped his mouth shut.
The sect leader, on the other hand, asked with evident concern.
“Is he alright?”
“The physician said it’s just a minor wound.”
The sword had been wrapped in sword aura when he grabbed it, tearing the wound messily and making it look worse than it was. But since Jin Sowoon had poured qi into his left hand, the injury wasn’t severe.
“Ugh…”
As Hong Saryeon fretted over the wound again, Jin Sowoon added reassuringly to ease her worry.
“It was all precise calculation. The sword went all the way to the end, and I grabbed it right before it came back.”
Smack!
One wasn’t enough to vent her anger.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
Hong Saryeon’s palm alternated between his neck and back relentlessly.
“What the hell was that?!”
“Try something this reckless again, and next time it won’t be Namgung San’s sword—I’ll slice your hand off with mine! Got it?!”
“…Got it.”
The sect leader, who seemed to have more to say, spoke up once the room quieted.
“Why go that far?”
His voice carried an inscrutable emotion—neither rebuke nor praise.
By the time Namgung San had unleashed the Imperial Swordsmanship, Jin Sowoon had already won. He was asking why he hadn’t backed down even then.
Jin Sowoon scratched the back of his head for a moment before replying.
“He didn’t even greet you, Sect Leader—or anyone else.”
The elders and hall leaders exchanged glances and tilted their heads.
“Maybe it’s just me, but he didn’t show proper respect as a guest either.”
Hong Moon-gi’s face filled with bewilderment.
“You wagered your finger over that?”
“It’s not ‘just that’…”
Disappointment clouded Hong Moon-gi’s face, along with those of Jin Taesan and the hall leaders.
Winning against Namgung San was one thing, but this victory couldn’t be called fair by any stretch. He’d nearly lost a finger—or his entire left hand.
Gang Chaeseok, who’d been laughing it off as a mere scratch, flushed red and roared.
“You mad bastard! Yeah, sure—but you don’t risk a warrior’s hand over something like this!”
That was when Namgung San quietly stepped forward. No one had noticed his entrance amid Gang Chaeseok’s booming voice.
“Was that a trivial matter?”
The hall leaders’ tempers began to rise at Jin Sowoon’s cheeky retort to his scolding.
“It was your victory the moment Namgung San used Imperial Swordsmanship! You could’ve won without losing a thing! There was no need to go this far!”
“The young disciples were watching, weren’t they?”
“…!”
“…!”
“!!!”
The elders and hall leaders looked as if struck by lightning.
“Even if my finger got cut off, don’t you think our disciples will see my sword at Namgung Senior’s throat and realize Tae-eul Gate’s arts have potential? They won’t think, ‘If only I’d been born a Namgung scion.’ They’ll think, ‘I’ll challenge the Namgung with my sword.’”
No one in the hall so much as breathed.
Hong Moon-gi and Jin Taesan gazed at Jin Sowoon with complex eyes, while the elders and hall leaders stared at the dusty ceiling, sighing repeatedly in frustration.
Only Gang Chaeseok finally grumbled, breaking the frozen atmosphere.
“…They’d probably just freak out at the sight of your finger getting chopped and run for the hills.”
Jin Sowoon just smirked in response.
“If even one in a hundred thinks that way—and carries on Tae-eul Gate’s spirit—then my finger was a fair price.”
“Kkh!”
Gang Chaeseok suddenly clutched his face, brows furrowed, and bolted out of the building as if something had burst inside him.
People glanced at him, then noticed Namgung San standing at the door.
“You’re here.”
As Hong Moon-gi acknowledged him, Namgung San started to nod but instead offered a formal cupped-fist salute.
“You young ones must have things to discuss.”
At Hong Moon-gi’s words, Jin Taesan, the elders, hall leaders, and even Hong Saryeon rose and left. This time, no one tried to chat up Namgung San or suck up to him on the way out.
“…”
Namgung San silently set down the Thousand Silkworm Cloak, wooden armor, and Seven-Colored Treasure Bead. After a long silence, he spoke.
“Losing to the Namgung family isn’t shameful.”
“Losing to Tae-eul Gate isn’t either.”
“Was Tae-eul Gate always this strong?”
“Is the Namgung family’s pride based on overwhelming power?”
“!!!”
“If the Namgung family’s essence arts fade and the Heavenly Bow Unfettered Swordsmanship vanishes, won’t losing to Tae-eul Gate become shameful?”
“…”
Shame filled the face of the once-proud Namgung San.
“We’re the same. Lacking mighty arts doesn’t mean we discard our pride.”
“…You wagered your finger from the start. You were resolved.”
Namgung San suddenly offered a deep cupped-fist salute.
“Please forgive my rudeness at Tae-eul Gate and my disgrace before your junior with your magnanimity.”
Jin Sowoon rose as well, saluting with his bandaged hand.
“You showed integrity and apologized, so I’ll forget the past. Forget this unworthy junior’s offenses too.”
With greetings exchanged, Jin Sowoon asked.
“What about the academy plaque, then? Will you seek another?”
“Do you want to bet on it again?”
“Of course not.”
Namgung San stared piercingly at Jin Sowoon with a meaningful expression.
“No need to worry. …Somehow, things will work out.”
“Pardon?”
“Finally… it’s done.”
An immense amount of inner energy he couldn’t have dreamed of in his previous life. And this was just the beginning in this one.
Thanks to an unexpected windfall, he’d reached the First Cycle faster than planned. He’d swept up Anhui Province’s elixirs, but other provinces still had plenty.
Time was too short to gather them all before the Murim Academy’s regular entrance exam.
I’ll head out right after the special exam ends.
With that thought, as he entered Tae-eul Gate—
Strangers he didn’t recognize, armed to the teeth, filled the training grounds.
Gye-ryong Merchant Group?
Men in Gye-ryong uniforms encircled Gye Yeonseok protectively, while he held a grave discussion with the sect leader on the platform.
I approached Hong Saryeon, who watched them anxiously from the side.
“What’s going on?”
“…Where’ve you been? It’s almost over.”
“Personal training. It’s not like the sect fell apart without me.”
“It did fall apart—that’s the problem.”
“Huh? What’re you talking about?”
I pressed her for an explanation, but she just stared at the training grounds without answering.
“Hong Sect Leader! How could you do this to me? Are you really going to break your promise like this?!”
Gye Yeonseok’s face mixed desperation and fury, like a man who’d lost a fortune.
“Gye Hall Leader, you’re mistaken. Selecting the head disciple is the sect’s prerogative!”
“Who else has the qualifications besides my Cheol-yeong?!”
I was dumbfounded.
Head Disciple?
That was the position originally balanced between Gye Cheolyeong and Hong Saryeon. It carried authority near the sect leader’s among disciples, along with heavy responsibility. When dispatched to the Murim Alliance, the head disciple’s word was the sect leader’s. Typically, it went to the disciple entering the Murim Academy, so they could protect the others as an official.
In his previous life, Gye Cheolyeong became head disciple, turning them into lackeys for the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families’ scions.
“Senior Sister, did the sect leader say he’d give you the head disciple position?”
“…?”
Hong Saryeon looked at me like I’d said something absurd.
“Why’s the head disciple spot suddenly an issue?”
“…Because of you, Senior Brother.”
“Me? Why?”
Then it hit me—all I’d done lately. Fetching the Ninefold Sword from Iron Sword Sect, standing firm against Namgung San’s blade.
“Hong Sect Leader! Is this because of Iron Sword Sect? I told you—Cheol-yeong couldn’t step in because he was Gye-ryong’s man!”
Gye Cheolyeong hadn’t intervened there either; he’d even instigated the fight. Whereas my actions…
Perfect head disciple material.
But from the sect leader’s view, it wasn’t simple. Making me head disciple might make Gye-ryong, already drifting away, cut ties completely. Tae-eul Gate’s finances could collapse overnight.
Of course, my preparations and the Seven-Colored Treasure Bead made that unlikely—but it was still a massive decision for him.
“This is just scheming to block my Cheol-yeong from the academy!”
At Gye Yeonseok’s outburst, Hong Moon-gi finally snapped.
“Watch your tongue, Gye Hall Leader! The academy is open to all Tae-eul Gate disciples. Even without head disciple status, proven skill gets you in!”
Gye Yeonseok obsessed over it for the admission bonus points. It proved legitimacy within the sect—crucial when every edge counted.
“Kuh…!”
Outmatched verbally, Gye Yeonseok glared at me with resentment.
“Fine! If this is how it’s gonna be, I’ll cut off Tae-eul Gate’s funding right now!”
His thunderbolt words clouded the elders’ and hall leaders’ faces with worry.
“Did you think you could use me, Gye Yeonseok, and toss me aside? Go back to starving on one watery porridge meal a day, dressed like beggars indistinguishable from the Beggars’ Sect! Then you’ll see how foolish your choice was!”
The anxious ones couldn’t hide their unease. Hong Moon-gi and Jin Taesan looked rattled but held firm.
The training grounds fell into heavy silence, thick with anxiety, impatience, anger, and hostility. The young disciples held their breath, peeking at the adults.
Then a voice shattered the quiet.
“Then how about I take care of that instead?”
Gye Yeonseok whipped around with a murderous glare at the untimely intruder.
“Who the hell are you? Who dares mock Gye-ryong Merchant Group’s affairs?!”
His shrill voice spurred his warriors to draw swords, radiating killing intent one by one.
“Mock? I don’t play games. Forgot that already?”
“What?”
A middle-aged man appeared with a leisurely drawl. His unassuming yet luxurious attire featured simple accessories—unlike Gye Yeonseok’s flashiness. His upright posture exuded natural dignity.
“Y-You… here?”
Gye Yeonseok’s jaw dropped.
Then a pale-faced girl with a lovely smile peeked from behind him.
“Big Brother Sowoon~!”
The man was Wang Geumsan, Wang Soso’s father.