The Mashed Potato Epiphany
Enlightenment comes suddenly.
Setting aside magical epiphanies or life lessons, let me talk solely about the enlightenment of a martial artist.
Suppose there's a guy swinging his sword all day, every day, without rest.
He desperately yearned for enlightenment.
Because without it, he couldn't advance to the next realm.
He believed that if he lived diligently, earnestly, and completely by his own routine, enlightenment would come someday.
But it never visited him.
Meanwhile, he heard that a comrade—who'd been honing his skills while taking it easy—had surpassed him.
How the fuck did that lazy bastard reach a higher realm than me?
Tormented by such distractions, his will finally broke.
He locked his door, holed up in bed, and lived like a shut-in.
Days passed like that.
Eventually, he ventured out to buy food.
All he had was a single coin.
The man haggled desperately and handed over that one coin for a single potato.
Once I eat this, I'll probably starve to death without moving a muscle.
He knew he had to ration it, stretch it out as much as possible.
But he hadn't eaten anything decent for days already.
If this is my last meal anyway, I want to savor it as best I can.
He put every ounce of effort into cooking the potato deliciously.
He boiled it in water mixed from seawater and freshwater, then squeezed out the last of his strength to milk a wild cow and blend it with the potato.
The finished dish was mashed potatoes, just like the ones his mother used to make when he was a kid.
It would've tasted even more authentic with butter or pepper, but sadly, he couldn't afford such luxuries.
"Sniff... sob..."
Tears streamed from his eyes.
The mashed potatoes were fucking disgustingly salty because he'd fucked up the seawater ratio.
But it didn't matter.
The man shoved the potato into his mouth, mouthful after mouthful.
No regrets, since it was the end.
Thud!
Having emptied the bowl, he gulped down the water he'd saved in a cup.
It was only natural after something that salty.
He slammed the cup down roughly and stared blankly at the empty bowl.
How the hell had he ended up like this?
Before, even if his realm growth had stalled, he'd at least felt secure in his steady life.
Why had his existence become so pathetic?
Realm.
Yeah, it was all because of that damn realm.
Because that fucking thing wouldn't rise, no matter what.
Because some asshole who'd worked less than me had reached a higher one.
For that one reason alone, I'd abandoned my normal life, drowned in self-loathing and depression, and driven myself into a corner.
I'd just eaten some godawful salty mashed potatoes.
But those mashed potatoes were the most delicious thing I'd eaten lately.
To others, I'd look like a crazy bastard.
But who gives a shit?
In the end, as long as I'm satisfied, that's all that matters.
With that thought complete, the man closed his eyes without regret.
Tomorrow's sun would rise, and his stomach would growl again.
But the happiness and satisfaction he felt now would linger until he shut his eyes.
The next day.
The man opened his eyes as usual.
Having fallen asleep sitting in the chair, his back ached terribly.
He stood, stretching.
That's when it happened.
"Huh...?"
His body's condition was the worst it should have been.
Or so it should've been.
"This... this is..."
Like he'd seen a ghost, the man examined his body.
Slowly, as if confirming it was real, desperately hoping it wasn't a deceiving illusion.
Once confirmed, tears flowed.
A handful of aura, shining like morning sunlight, had taken root inside him.
That final enlightenment had awakened his aura.
Swinging the sword every day might seem like textbook training at a glance.
But enlightenment doesn't come just from swinging a sword.
It arrives in truly random moments, in something you think is utterly trivial.
To others, all the man had done was eat some mashed potatoes.
Just that, and he'd awakened aura to become a Sword Expert.
Does that mean everyone should think, Fuck, I should smash some potatoes too, and mash away?
Would any dog or pig awaken aura then?
Absolutely not.
Because the man was in that situation,
Because of the life he'd lived until then,
That mashed potato at that exact moment led him to enlightenment.
"Many people misunderstand enlightenment. They hear of others' epiphanies and think, 'That's nothing special? He advanced realms from that?'"
The Old Man declared firmly.
"One who belittles another's enlightenment cannot grow. No starlight will shine on their narrow mind and world."
Having listened to the Old Man to the end, I thought,
Fuck. So when the hell are you teaching me the sword?
More cryptic bullshit.
Sure, it was a solid lesson,
But you said you'd teach me the sword, that's why I followed. If it'd been life coaching, I wouldn't have come.
Yeah, enlightenment's great.
But shouldn't you learn sword forms and techniques first, then chase enlightenment?
Isn't the order all fucked up?
Agh, seriously.
What if he doesn't even know how to swing a sword?
I don't think I've ever seen the old geezer swing one?
Just that horizontal slash. Aura slash.
That's all I've seen, right??
Whatever...
Sigh.
Keep repeating myself, but what can I do.
It's the old man I chose~ The demon realm I chose~.
My fault for getting suckered by a moment's skill~ Should've found a master with high trust and proven disciples~.
Should've been more careful.
The merc uncles warned me a million times to be cautious with contracts,
And I got scammed anyway! Aigoo!!!!
"Got it, but can we learn the sword first and do the philosophy after...? Other kids hear that stuff from their masters after learning something. These days, even holiday advice costs money."
"......"
He's silent again, that mumbler.
Gonna yap his piece and then clam up?
I'm gonna lose it with this old man. What now?
Can't even smack him.
In our merc group, that'd get you interest-free blacklisting.
"Ukikik!"
Fuck...
Already feeling down, and right on cue, the monkey shits show up.
The first bastard that kicked my ass in the demon realm.
Hate its face on sight.
This fucker's mine.
Shing.
The sword slid smoothly from its sheath.
You wanna taste their blood too, huh?
As if saying it was our turn to fuck shit up, aura blazed fiercely.
Thanks to aura responding to the user's will, you could see plain as day how much I despised those monkey fucks.
Whoosh!
Crimson-black aura engulfed my blade.
Guilt? Pity?
Beasts don't get that shit.
"Nice. This'll send those bastards straight to hell."
I swung.
No techniques from the old man, so I just swung however felt right.
Even if I knew something, I'd have swung formlessly anyway.
Wasting proper form on these shits is too good for them.
"Hahahahahahaha!!!! You worthless bugs!!!!!!!!!! Hahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!"
Just so you know... not embarrassed or anything...
I'm not like this normally.
Good kid who became a merc to help people.
But hold up...
Old man,
Why'd you look at me like I was embarrassing for that split second?
lmao.
lmao lmao lmao.
Fuck.
Whoosh. Splat splat splat.
I cleaved the last monkey and shook the blood and flesh off my sword.
Unlike before, the remnants came off easily.
Fwoosh.
Who am I?
I'm a Sword Expert.
"......"
The Old Man sheathed his sword and stared silently as I approached.
"What're you staring at?? Old memories or something???"
The merc uncles sometimes said that to me.
Seeing me reminded them of their rookie days.
The romance back then, the hype, the endless booze flowing down their throats.
Memories buried and forgotten suddenly rising like a mirage, then vanishing.
Maybe the Old Man felt something similar?
It kinda seemed that way.
"Go."
The Old Man ignored my words and said his piece.
That damn "go." "Go." "Go."
Fine. Eat your fill of go, old man.
I'm not having any.
It'd been five days since we left for the demon realm.
Two days left.
If the old geezer hadn't forgotten our deal due to dementia, he was supposed to start teaching me the sword today.
"From today, I'll show you what you've so desperately wanted."
Finally. At last!
Fuck, how long I'd waited for this moment. (Or not.)
Yeah yeah, show me your transcendent skills befitting your insane power, hidden expert old man.
Of course, as a bit of a talent whore myself, I knew plenty of techniques from all the guys who'd tried teaching me and gotten their asses handed to them.
But knowing and not knowing are the same.
When I said even if I knew techniques I wouldn't have used them properly on those monkeys, there was actually another reason.
If I used someone's skills without being their disciple, I'd have to quit merc work and run for my life 24/7.
Family secrets or ancient sect arts, probably.
Some non-disciple punk flashing them around?
They wouldn't let that slide.
That's why I waited for the old man to teach me.
He's already okayed me learning his sword.
Once I learn it, I can use it freely without looking over my shoulder.
Fuck yeah, I'm pumped. Better not be lame. Or else!
...Or so I thought.
But I can't forget—he's way stronger than me.
Fuck.
Another valuable lesson: the weak get fucked.