Building Internal Energy as Easily as Eating Dang-gwa - 4

Wild animals often lose their lives to a single moment of carelessness. And so they attend to everything, honing their vigilance day after day. Such is the wild, where survival of the fittest reigns and a single slip or lapse summons death.

The murim was not so very different — for while climbing higher, or merely surviving, demanded ceaseless effort, a single mistake could strip it all away.

Which was why Hong Ryeon had been left with no choice but to teach Sa Yun the latter half of the Hongseong Divine Art, early though it was. She had no idea who was sending those letters, but if the sender was entangled with the murim, then Sa Yun needed the means to protect herself, in her own way.

Of course, she had not taught the Great Sword Form — the strongest, hardest, and very heart of the Hongseong Divine Art. Passing that on in full required the master's permission, and Sa Yun lacked the internal energy to digest it besides. However brilliant her talent, she had not been a disciple of Hongseong Sect for long. Nor, unlike the others, had she built her inner energy from childhood — all the more reason she could not.

So if Sa Yun was to be raised faster, a rise in internal energy was essential. But did inner energy ever climb that easily? However peerless a divine art the Hongseong Divine Art might be, so long as it was no demonic art, growth in the early stages was bound to be slow.

"Haa..."

Her thoughts had begun to buck and bolt like a maddened wild horse. To sort them out, Hong Ryeon had seen to her master's meal and then made for the training grounds, where she swung her sword in silence. Even so, her brooding hung as thick as the sunset bleeding red across the sky. Ordinarily the sword emptied her mind of everything, but strangely, wiping away the thoughts crammed into her head proved anything but easy.

In the end she halted her greatsword mid-swing, squeezed her eyes shut, and reached for the past. A past both bitter and sweet — the one thing that, however little, held her steady whenever she wavered. Holding it in mind, Hong Ryeon gathered her focus.

It had all begun after the letters of unknown origin and the silver arrived for Sa Yun. Countless powers in the murim still lingered, hoping to make use of Hongseong Sect, and there was no shortage of people trying to wield the Sword Saint's strength through false information and threats. Just look at them — the murim's hidden forces, the Murim Alliance in peril, the Demonic Cult stirring anew, help me stop them or all is lost — letters of every stripe had come pouring in. And now, on top of it all, that sort of approach had reached even the youngest of them. No wonder her head throbbed.

"Hoo..."

And so, as a precaution, she had taught ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the girl the Star Breaking Palm — early, but necessary. Fortunately, blessed with exceptional talent, Sa Yun had learned it quickly. No — beyond quickly; she had made it entirely her own. With it, the girl now possessed a blade with which to protect herself.

But the unease had not faded, and reality had arrived with a speed that bordered on offensive. When the disciples returned from Seomhwachon and reported what had happened that day, Hong Ryeon had smiled on the outside while feeling her heart lurch. The youngest had crossed blades with Hoe-rang Gakjun — and seized victory. An astonishing tale. However much Hoe-rang was merely a sell-sword of the unorthodox path, he was a seasoned master whose name carried weight even within the Murim Alliance. A master like that, defeated by Sa Yun? Even with the help she had received, it was staggering.

Sa Yun's talent was beyond question. Had she been born into a prestigious house and trained from her earliest years, she might stand beside Hong Ryeon now — or above her. But reality was otherwise. She had been a beggar orphan, and that talent had never been given room to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grow. It was such a waste. If only she had more internal energy. If she had been raised in a good family and drilled from childhood. Then her growth would have come so much faster.

"Ah."

Regret. The weight of responsibility. And a loathing for the world's unfairness. Was it these dark feelings? The Hongseong Divine Art within her dantian bared its savagery, hauling her back out of the past she had sunk into. Hong Ryeon gritted her teeth and stilled it. The Ominous Star was mighty but merciless; let her slip even once, and it would devour her. It had to be governed by cold reason.

As the slumbering Ominous Star coursed along her veins, immense power gathered in her greatsword.

Nak-ilgeom — the Sun-Falling Sword. An epithet earned for bearing a force mighty enough to drag down even the sun in that sky.

But even with such power. Even after long years governing Hongseong Sect as its eldest disciple. She was still nothing more than a woman in her twenties — still young, as anyone would say. And so, on the matters her experience and knowledge could not easily settle, she had no choice but to agonize. -Wooooooom...!!!

Hong Ryeon, who had mastered nearly every greatsword form of the Hongseong Divine Art to perfection, flashed her eyes and swung her sword in a tremendous arc. -KWAAAAANG!! With every wind-swift swing of the greatsword, stone dust swirled up around the training yard — if her greatsword sent that dust flying, it was her own blade alone that cut it down again. Raising her inner energy to an even fiercer pitch, she leapt into the empty air and brought the greatsword crashing down toward the ground. -KUUUUNG!!

As though the Ominous Star of destruction had descended from the heavens to lay waste to the earth, a single strike gouged a vast pit into the floor of the training yard, and Hong Ryeon stood there gasping for breath. Feeling the surging inner energy calm and flow back into her dantian, she bit her lip hard.

Internal energy. That was the problem. She herself and the other disciples had trained from childhood, layering inner energy year upon year, so mastering the Hongseong Divine Art posed no great difficulty for them. But Sa Yun? Unlike the rest of them, she had been an orphan the Sword Saint had taken in and made her disciple — and because of that, she had never received the Marrow Cleansing or the elixirs that show their greatest effect in childhood. Which left her no choice but to build her inner energy the slow, steady way — and that way was far too slow.

And she knew of a solution. According to what she had learned while working with the Murim Alliance, a hidden secret realm lay not far from here — and those who broke through such realms almost always came away with spirit elixirs. She could not say how fine the elixir's quality would be, but even a weak one would be a great boon to the Sa Yun of today.

But what if she herself went? A secret realm was hardly the sort of place one could dash out to and back from in a day. Of course, with martial sisters she could trust, and the master herself besides, Hongseong Sect would hardly be in danger — the problem was money. It was needed here, there, and everywhere as it was, and the payment she had received on the recent trip to the Murim Alliance had already been swallowed whole by building repairs and upkeep. To fill that hole they would have to take on commissions, hunt down monsters, or fight off bandits... and then she could not go to the secret realm at all. Two rabbits. Two swift rabbits bolting in opposite directions — and right now, she had to catch both at once.

"Nnnngh..."

Groaning, Hong Ryeon finally squeezed her eyes shut. There was a way to catch both rabbits. Of course, it was not something she could do for free. But she was the eldest disciple of Hongseong Sect — the eldest sister who led them all. If so, then her pride could bend and break as much as it pleased.

At the memory entwined with that decision, the corner of Hong Ryeon's mouth lifted despite herself. To catch her two rabbits — braced to throw her pride away — she had gone to the inn-cum-trading house in Seomhwachon. By any measure, the inn's owner, Yu Wol, was quite well disposed toward Hongseong Sect. Leaning on goodwill like that to make an unreasonable request had felt rather shabby, she had to admit. But that embarrassment was hers and hers alone — hers to bear, not Hongseong Sect's. And yet thinking a thing and doing it were two different matters, were they not? In the end she had hesitated for a long, long while, and when she had finally forced the words out, he had said with a smile:

"We're hardly strangers, you and I. That much I can do for you."

Not strangers, he said. Why on earth not? However much she had helped him before, what she had actually done amounted to almost nothing. And however much the youngest had helped him, he had paid her back in full for it. And yet — not strangers?

Hong Ryeon had looked at the man. The emotion in the two eyes of that blunt-featured man was too clear to be greed, and it shone far too brightly to be lust. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The light in his eyes held nothing but a fierce resolve to see his own purpose through. And within that resolve there was nothing — nothing at all — but concern and worry. Beneath that gaze, Hong Ryeon had found herself swallowing, hard, without meaning to.

As the eldest disciple of Hongseong Sect, Hong Ryeon had to lead her many junior sisters. Standing in for a master hopeless at the business of daily life, she had been forced to grow into an adult faster than anyone else. As the Sword Saint's disciple, she was not permitted to struggle; as the prop holding up so many sisters, she had to stay unshakable. Being the adult was simply what was expected of her, and being the pillar was simply what was right. So for a woman like that, a great wall that told her she was allowed to lean — a gaze holding nothing but pure worry and concern, where everyone else she had ever met had offered greed — could only feel startlingly new.

And so she had thought: What a relief. Truly, what a relief — that someone like this thought well of Hongseong Sect. Yes. That was all it was. The reason the weight of unease that had sat in Hong Ryeon's chest for so long had grown a little lighter was—

"Daesajeo. We're back."

A voice brimming with delight hauled her up out of the sweet sea of the past. For the child who had once stood at ease before an adult, becoming older sister to a crowd of juniors took no more than an instant. But merely from savoring that past, Hong Ryeon smiled at the burden that had settled a little lighter. If it was this, she could do more. It stung a little, having to throw her pride away — but if she chewed over the sweetness of having found an adult she could lean on, then she could become a better older sister. And so — absolutely—

"Hahaha!! Welcome back, all of you! Did you eat well?!"

There was no reason to waver.

Once the returned sisters had gone off to their quarters and she had come back to her own room, Ryu Hyeon stepped inside — a large bundle in one hand. Unwrapping it drew a laugh out of her all on its own: a cold platter that would keep its flavor even chilled, and several dishes from the sect kitchen that needed nothing more than a quick warming.

"What's all this?"

"Things we held back without eating and asked them to pack up for you, Sajeo."

Was she to call it clever, or shameless? Hong Ryeon smirked at the dishes laid out before her. Ryu Hyeon held out a plate.

"Innkeeper Yu asked after you too, Sajeo. And crab-meat porridge is your favorite, isn't it? The jerky wraps, well... nobody dislikes those. And the chicken... it's only so-so, but you'd still eat it gladly, Sajeo."

A laugh burst out of her then — at the pointless thoughtfulness of it. And yet it did not feel bad. Was it because she knew the goodwill behind it was genuine? Yes. That had to be it.

"...Honestly, that man frets over the most pointless things. I'd have been fine eating whatever."

"You only stayed behind because you were looking after Master, Daesajeo. So..."

"True. Well, this much I'll have to thank him for properly."

Hong Ryeon answered bluntly to hide the restlessness that had crept into her chest for no reason at all. The sweetness of the past kept tapping at a corner of her heart.

Ryu Hyeon gave a wry smile at her tangled expression, thought for a moment, then said in earnest:

"By the way... you know that innkeeper, Yu Wol?"

"Hm? What about him?"

"The way he looks at people was a little strange."

"Hmmm...?"

As if. In her eyes, Yu Wol was no bad man. No — at the very least, he was not the sort of man to nurse dark designs on girls far younger than herself. Puzzled, Hong Ryeon waited as Ryu Hyeon thought for a moment with a troubled look, then spoke.

"No, it wasn't that kind of look — nothing like a pedophile's, or a lecher's. It's... how should I put it."

Ryu Hyeon wrestled with it — the gaze she had caught for just a moment before leaving the inn. Yu Wol's gaze toward Sa Yun was... yes. That was it.

"You know how we get rest days and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠go home to visit?"

"I do."

"Well... it was like the way Father used to watch me after I'd finished a meal."

"The way your father watched you..."

"Nothing lustful in it — just, sort of, worry and relief? You know, that kind of gaze that makes your skin prickle a little?"

"Why?"

"W-well, I wouldn't know, would I? Oh — come to think of it, Sa Yun saved Innkeeper Yu last time, didn't she? Could it be because of that?"

"Hm..."

But was it truly only that? Hong Ryeon's thoughts began to sink deeper and deeper. And then—

"Daesajeo. A letter has come from the Courier Gate."

"Yes. Come in."

Speak of the tiger and it appears, as the saying goes. Sa Yun — the very person they had been discussing — came in with Yu Hui, carrying a basket of letters and a box. Hong Ryeon shot Ryu Hyeon a glance that said we'll finish this later, and turned her eyes to the basket. And there she found a box of a familiar shape.

"It's come again."

"Oh! Ehehe..."

This was already the third time. When Sa Yun's face brightened, Hong Ryeon stroked her hair. And as ever, no sender's name this time either.

"I'll open it."

The seal came away, and inside the opened box, as always, lay a single nyang of silver and one letter. Sa Yun stared at it for a long moment, then unfolded the letter — and this time, unlike before, she only tilted her head.

"Uh... this is..."

"What is it?"

Hong Ryeon and Ryu Hyeon both turned their eyes to the letter Sa Yun held out — and the two of them froze stiff. Small wonder. What was on the letter was a map. And not just any map.

"...A map of Mount Hongseong?"