The Heir of the Fallen Sect (2)
There was one major misunderstanding.
When he passed on the principles of the Taiji Cloud Sword, he had assumed his second brother would claim it as his own achievement.
Well, it wasn't entirely a lie, was it?
His brother's talent was exceptional; he had already reached the threshold of enlightenment. All Seomun Hwan had done was give the door a gentle push.
If he had claimed the insight as his own, both Hyeon-geom Jin-in and the Wudang Sect would have treated him very differently.
But his second brother was far too innocent and honest. He had relayed everything exactly as it happened.
"I hear you had already given up on martial arts before you turned ten. Is that true?"
"Once I realized I had no aptitude for it, I gave up early."
Not just martial arts—he had given up on studies too. Thinking about it, he really was a hopeless case.
"Hah! A man with no talent for martial arts claims to have seen through the Taiji Cloud Sword, a technique renowned even among Wudang's sword arts for its profound, mystical nature?"
"That is an exaggeration. I merely watched my brother's practice and shared what little insight came to me. Sometimes a casual remark can spark unexpected enlightenment in another, can it not? My brother's ability far surpasses mine."
"Yet the details you provided were remarkably specific."
This was getting ridiculous. Had his brother really passed on every single detail?
"I merely dressed up some hearsay to sound plausible. It was pure luck."
"You intend to stick with that story to the end?"
"Of course. If you listen to the rumors, you'll see I'm hardly the remarkable person you think I am."
Seomun Hwan spoke with feigned humility, but Hyeon-geom Jin-in quietly shook his head.
"Talent is a blade. Neglect it and it rusts; force it and it breaks. Wield it properly, however, and it can cleave the world."
"That saying suits my brother, not me. I'm simply the sort who prefers to eat watermelon without lifting a finger."
The corner of Hyeon-geom Jin-in's mouth twitched upward.
"There is no world where one can survive on watermelon alone."
"That's why we have merchant guilds. My family happens to be rather good at the watermelon trade."
Hyeon-geom Jin-in slowly stroked his beard.
"The knowledge you spoke of was more than mere coincidence."
He was staring straight through Seomun Hwan. Clearly, this man had no intention of letting the matter drop.
"If coincidences pile up, they become talent. Unfortunately, that talent appears to be going to waste… but fortunately, I possess a method to restore even rusted talent to its former brilliance."
"Surely you don't mean…"
A sense of foreboding swept over him.
"You aren't suggesting I join the Wudang Sect, are you? A lazybones like me wouldn't even be fit to clean the toenails of your senior disciples."
Though he had spoken in jest, Hyeon-geom Jin-in merely laughed heartily.
"There is no uncut jade that cannot be polished to shine."
Seomun Hwan's unease grew. This man was genuinely planning to drag him into the Wudang Sect.
Wudang? Wasn't that the place where people became Daoists, ate nothing but bland food, slept on hard beds, and never married? A sect of eccentrics rivaling even the Shaolin in their asceticism.
'If they drag me there, I'll be stuck in some sunless cave for years, training day and night.'
'This is bad. If I'm not careful, he'll actually take me away.'
Hyeon-geom Jin-in's eyes were already filled with conviction. He looked as though he had discovered a pearl buried in mud.
That expression was a nightmare for Seomun Hwan. His carefully laid plans for a lazy, leisurely life were crumbling before his eyes.
If things continued this way, he would undoubtedly spend the rest of his days on the stone floors of Wudang Mountain, endlessly training until his life ended.
Hyeon-geom Jin-in's gaze already looked ready to shackle his ankles.
'He must have already spoken privately with Father.'
This could not be allowed to happen.
He wanted to use illusion magic on Hyeon-geom Jin-in, but with his current internal energy, deceiving a Transcendent master was impossible.
Seomun Hwan suddenly rose to his feet and spoke with firm resolve.
"Hyeon-geom Jin-in. I will speak honestly."
"Go on."
Hyeon-geom Jin-in's eyes narrowed slightly, as if to say no clever words would sway him.
Seomun Hwan took a steadying breath and continued calmly.
"I already have a master who has taught me."
"You have a master?"
Hyeon-geom Jin-in frowned.
"Yet the Clan Head said you have never received formal instruction, nor even left the estate—except to visit taverns."
He certainly came well-informed. But Seomun Hwan still had one trump card left.
"Think about it, Jin-in. Could a scholar completely ignorant of martial arts truly grasp the essence of something as advanced as the Taiji Cloud Sword at a single glance and offer guidance?"
"That… is true."
No matter how heaven-sent a genius one might be, an outsider to martial arts could never instantly comprehend an advanced technique like the Taiji Cloud Sword. Even Hyeon-geom Jin-in had to concede the logic.
Only one hurdle remained.
"Then who is this master who taught you martial arts?"
It was the obvious next question, and Seomun Hwan had prepared his answer in advance.
"He never revealed anything about himself. However… I can make an educated guess."
At the same time, Seomun Hwan suddenly stood and began demonstrating a footwork technique.
Whoosh!
His left shoulder turned slightly, both knees bent, and his entire body began to flow in circular motions. Eight steps, executed slowly yet with precise rhythm. An aura that seemed to envelop all directions spread outward like a dragon ascending to the heavens. Though there was no flashy display of internal energy, the pressure it exerted on the observer's heart was immense.
Hyeon-geom Jin-in's eyes widened.
"Th-that is! Could it be the Cloud Dragon Great Eight Steps?!"
Seomun Hwan completed the final step and turned to face him squarely.
"You recognize it, Jin-in?"
"How could I not? It is the signature footwork of the Kunlun Sect—eight directions rooted in the flow of the heavens, channeling energy from the soles of the feet to stabilize the core of swordsmanship!"
Hyeon-geom Jin-in's voice trembled slightly.
"How do you know this technique? Wasn't the Kunlun Sect annihilated during the great war between the orthodox and demonic factions over a decade ago?"
Seomun Hwan deliberately fell silent for a moment, as though choosing his words carefully.
Hyeon-geom Jin-in began searching his memories. During the great calamity caused by the clash between the Phantom Demon and the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, countless sects had fallen. Among them, the Kunlun Sect's destruction had been particularly tragic.
"Could it be… that a survivor of the Kunlun Sect from that blood-soaked disaster recognized your talent and passed on their martial arts to you?"
It was an absurd assumption, but the scene he had just witnessed left no other explanation. Exactly as Seomun Hwan had intended.
"…Is your so-called master truly connected to Kunlun?"
"As I said, my master revealed nothing about himself. He likely wished not to burden me with too much."
"Hah!"
Hyeon-geom Jin-in stroked his beard with a trembling hand.
"All martial artists owe a great debt to Kunlun. Because they stood bravely against the threat, the Murim was able to survive that past calamity."
Those words were accurate. In his previous life, the Kunlun Sect had been the first obstacle he needed to overcome to conquer the Murim. Back then, he had believed himself invincible, yet their resistance had been fiercer than expected. Especially the swordsmanship of Taeheo Singeom, the Kunlun Sect Leader at the time—it had been truly formidable.
'He even managed to wound my chest after breaking through my layered illusion formation.'
The damage had been greater than anticipated, forcing him to regroup. That delay had given the traitors their chance to strike.
He felt a twinge of guilt for personally annihilating them and then using their name, but what could he do? The living had to go on living.
Seomun Hwan smiled faintly.
"Now do you understand?"
"I understand perfectly."
No one could have two masters under heaven. Once he claimed to have received Kunlun's teachings, there was no way he would be dragged off to Wudang.
…Or so he thought, until Hyeon-geom Jin-in said something unexpected.
"So you are the rumored Kunpeng!"
"…What?"
Kunpeng was a legendary bird said to fly ten thousand li with a single flap of its wings. Because the name sounded similar to Kunlun, promising young disciples of Kunlun were sometimes called Kunpeng.
"I heard rumors that Taeheo Singeom, who barely survived the blood calamity, has been nurturing talented individuals to one day stand against the Demonic Cult. I dismissed it as idle gossip, but it seems it was true after all."
"No, that's not…"
"It must be. The one who taught you martial arts is undoubtedly Taeheo Singeom himself."
Seomun Hwan had no idea what the man was talking about. Taeheo Singeom, who had died on Kunlun Mountain, was supposedly still alive and teaching disciples?
That was impossible. In his previous life, he had personally killed Taeheo Singeom…
'Wait. Did I really kill him?'
He had been certain of it. Taeheo Singeom had suffered grievous wounds from a coordinated assault by the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's experts and fallen from a sheer cliff. Even with heaven-defying luck, the odds of survival were one in a hundred.
'And did we ever find the body? Or not?'
Shortly after that incident, the traitors had attacked, and everything had descended into chaos. He had never confirmed the outcome.
'Could it be… that stubborn old man is actually still alive?'
Hyeon-geom Jin-in gazed at Seomun Hwan with eyes full of admiration.
"That man truly chose an extraordinary disciple. It would not be an exaggeration to say you carry on Taeheo Singeom's will."
"…Your speculation is excessive. I am merely imitating what I was taught."
"Hahaha. Even your humility was learned from him? I never imagined the last spark of Kunlun would continue in this manner."
Seomun Hwan maintained a calm facade, but his mind was in turmoil.
'This has gotten far too complicated.'
His original plan had been nothing more than a scheme to avoid Hyeon-geom Jin-in's interest. He had only fabricated a plausible master to escape being taken into the Wudang Sect. Yet somehow it had turned into Kunlun—and because he had demonstrated the Cloud Dragon Great Eight Steps, he was now being cast as Taeheo Singeom's disciple.
But there was an even bigger problem.
'If Taeheo Singeom is truly alive…'
This was no longer a simple act. It could become a matter of life and death. In his past life, he had been the one who killed the man. If Taeheo Singeom still retained his memories, the moment he recognized Seomun Hwan's true identity…
'That old man would never let it slide.'
Hyeon-geom Jin-in continued to shine with misguided enthusiasm.
"Wudang and Kunlun have long shared the same path of righteousness. If you are truly Kunlun's heir, I will retract my offer to take you as my disciple. However…"
"…However?"
"From now on, Wudang will regard you as an ally."
Seomun Hwan felt as though the air had been knocked out of him.
'Damn it!'
Instead of escaping, he had become even more deeply entangled. For a brief moment, he wondered if becoming a Wudang disciple might have been the better option after all.
But what could he do? The stage had already been set, and he had to survive within it.
Seomun Hwan forced a smile and spoke.
"Hearing you say that… puts quite a burden on me."
"Hahaha! A burden is also a responsibility. And responsibility means walking a path. No matter which path you choose, Wudang will watch over its end."
A cold sweat suddenly ran down his back.
'You really don't need to watch…'
Seomun Hwan reluctantly nodded.
* * *
That night.
Seomun Hwan sat alone in his room, gazing out the window. The moon hung round in the sky, and the sound of cicadas drifted softly through the air. Yet his heart was far from at ease.
'Taeheo Singeom…'
The name refused to leave his mind. Like a vengeful spirit crawling out of the underworld, that old man had burned through his own life just to sink his teeth into him.
'Is he really still alive?'
If so, they would meet someday. He had no idea what would happen if the lie was exposed.
Yet why was his heart pounding so loudly?
Unable to calm his restless thoughts, he tossed and turned through the night.
And the next day.
When he entered the main house after an unexpected summons, his father, mother, and both brothers were already waiting for him. A sense of foreboding washed over him. He suddenly recalled the meaningful look Hyeon-geom Jin-in had given him as he departed.
As expected, his father spoke with a hearty laugh.
"The Jin-in praised you endlessly. He even said you would one day bring great honor to the clan."
Of course he would, if he believed Seomun Hwan was a secret disciple of the Kunlun Sect. Fortunately, it seemed he had not mentioned anything about Kunlun.
But this was its own kind of disaster.
"It seems I have been neglecting you for too long. Now that you are of age, it would be good for you to start taking on some of the clan's responsibilities."
"What? What do you mean…"
"There is an important trade caravan departing for Sichuan the day after tomorrow. This time, you will take the position of caravan leader."
What kind of sudden thunderbolt was this? He had planned to live his entire life lounging around on the family's money.
Come to think of it, this wasn't the first time such words had been spoken. Whenever his father and brothers tried to assign him some grueling task, his mother had always stepped in to fiercely oppose it.
This time too, he looked to his mother, expecting her usual intervention—only to find her dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.
"Sob… My youngest. When did you grow up so much? I'm so proud! So proud!"
"…Mother?"
It seemed Hyeon-geom Jin-in's words had worked far too well.