The Sword Boy's Submission
Ma Uiryong turned his head.
There stood Jang Muhwi, wearing a relaxed expression.
When Ma Uiryong had first seen him, he had looked like a frail scholar who might be blown away by a spring breeze. Now, however, he felt like an immovable mountain.
That was why Ma Uiryong felt fear.
He had been confident that no one could surpass him in internal energy.
What Ma Uiryong had cultivated was the Ma Family's core technique, the Demonic Heart Method—also known as Demonic Qi Art. Its defining trait was an inexhaustible well of power. Both the Demonic Heart Method and the Demonic Spear Art were built on overwhelming, tyrannical force meant to crush opponents.
But now?
The energy within Ma Uiryong's meridians had dried up completely. Like parched, cracked earth after a drought, not a trace of qi remained. He had expended everything during the earlier duel.
In contrast, his opponent had not even changed expression. That meant he still had energy to spare.
It implied that the Jang Family's internal energy method was equal to—or perhaps even superior to—the Demonic Heart Method.
No matter how he thought about it, it made no sense. That very incomprehension had turned into fear.
Ma Uiryong had been trained since childhood to overcome fear. For example, reaching into a sack without knowing what was inside. It could contain a venomous snake—or a sweet persimmon. Until the contents were revealed, the mind inevitably conjured the worst possibilities.
The Jang Muhwi standing before him was exactly such a sack.
Ma Uiryong no longer wished to reach into it. He had no desire to learn what lay hidden within. Whatever it was, it was surely far more dangerous than any serpent.
His trembling had yet to subside.
At that moment, Jang Muhwi spoke again, pressing him.
“You still have strength left. Why not finish this cleanly while you have the chance?”
“I’m done.”
When Ma Uiryong shook his head, Jang Muhwi continued.
“Then may I ask for one reward?”
“…Do as you wish.”
Ma Uiryong nodded without resistance. With those words, the long duel came to an end.
Everyone held their breath and stared at Jang Muhwi. What he would demand was the only thing on their minds.
While the crowd remained silent, Jang Muhwi casually crouched down and picked up a nearby branch. Ma Uiryong tensed and gripped his spear again.
Jang Muhwi paid him no mind. With the branch, he wrote two characters on the ground.
Sword Boy.
After finishing, he looked up at Ma Uiryong.
“This is what I want.”
His voice was low, audible only to Ma Uiryong.
Ma Uiryong tilted his head in confusion. A Sword Boy was a young attendant who carried a swordsman’s blade. Why would anyone demand such a thing as the prize for a duel?
After a moment of thought, Ma Uiryong muttered, “If that is what you want, I can select a suitable child and send him to you.”
“There is no need to send anyone. The one I want is Young Master Ma.”
“Me…?”
“That is correct.”
“You would humiliate me—”
“Hear me out first. If you ever defeat me, you may leave at once.”
Jang Muhwi pointed at the ground. Ma Uiryong looked down again, his eyes trembling.
He noticed two important details in the proposal. First, Jang Muhwi had written the request instead of speaking it aloud—meaning he was preserving Ma Uiryong’s dignity. Second, the promise that Ma Uiryong could challenge him anytime was clearly an attempt at persuasion.
Ma Uiryong glanced around. If he simply walked away now, he would lose face before his subordinates. In that instant, he recalled the lesson of lying on brushwood and tasting gall—enduring humiliation to one day exact revenge.
Bowing his head for now and finding a way to break Jang Muhwi later was also a path forward.
Having made up his mind, Ma Uiryong spoke in a shaky voice.
“Very well. But I have a condition.”
“Please speak.”
“I will decide when the next duel takes place. It could be tomorrow—”
“As you wish.”
Jang Muhwi nodded and handed over his sword. Ma Uiryong quietly accepted it. The agreement was sealed.
Once Ma Uiryong held the blade, Jang Muhwi gestured with his chin.
“Young Master Ma. Come with me for now.”
The shift in his tone made Ma Uiryong’s eyebrows twitch.
“Now…?”
“A master cannot speak respectfully to his Sword Boy, can he? I have somewhere to go. Follow me—and tell your men not to come along.”
With that, Jang Muhwi slowly walked out of the Jang Family estate.
Once the two disappeared, the spectators scattered in an instant. Everyone was itching to spread the news of what had just happened. Yet a few remained—the warriors sent by the Ma Family. They exchanged glances before turning away.
Jang Yuseong also signaled his subordinates. The matter was settled.
While the men were cleaning the courtyard, Jang Yuseong’s eyes caught something odd. At the spot where Jang Muhwi and Ma Uiryong had stood, faint traces of writing remained. One character was still visible.
“Sword?”
The second character had been erased, but Jang Yuseong had no way of knowing that. He only recognized it as Jang Muhwi’s handwriting. He had been curious about the conversation between the two, and now he had found a clue.
Just then, a shadow appeared behind him. Turning, he saw Jang Yujung.
“Brother.”
“Is the duel over?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Is Muhwi all right?”
Jang Yujung looked around with a worried expression. Seeing this, Jang Yuseong’s lips curled upward.
“He won.”
“What did you just say?”
“Our Muhwi defeated Ma Uiryong. And he won the wager as well.”
“Hmm.”
“Though Muhwi’s request was rather strange. It seems he asked for a sword.”
“If it is a sword he wants, I have one prepared…”
Jang Yujung let out a small sigh. After a moment, he asked again, “Where is Muhwi now?”
“He left with Ma Uiryong. It looks like he intends to collect the sword right away. Since Ma Uiryong agreed, there should not be any major issues.”
Jang Yuseong pointed beyond the wall, and Jang Yujung nodded.
“Then let us head inside as well.”
“Will you not wait for Muhwi, Brother?”
“Do you still see Muhwi as a child, little brother?”
With those words, Jang Yujung walked toward his quarters, his steps light as if walking on clouds. Jang Yuseong knew his brother was hiding his emotions. He had watched everything without saying a word. As the family head, he suppressed his feelings, but as a father, he could not fully contain them.
Jang Yuseong’s own lips curved into a smile.
“Let us go together, Brother.”
Two hours later.
Jang Muhwi’s group was walking along a mountain path. A faint smile played on Jang Muhwi’s lips beneath the moonlight.
From the very beginning, he had wanted Ma Uiryong. Crushing him thoroughly might instill fear for a time, but it would not last. After all, Ma Uiryong had lived his entire life as an arrogant, ill-tempered brute. To truly subdue him, Jang Muhwi would have to sever an arm or a leg. Yet doing so would inevitably make an enemy of the Ma Family—and the Jang Family’s strength was far too lacking compared to theirs. In the martial world, starting an unprepared fight was common sense folly.
Jang Muhwi was not foolish enough to ignore that common sense. There was an even more important reason as well.
Why settle for a single fruit when he could take the entire basket?
What Jang Muhwi wanted was the Ma Family itself. Within Qinghai, they held absolute power. If his plan succeeded, the Ma Family would become his shield. And if he gained control of them, they would serve as a powerful stepping stone for his greater ambitions.
Could a single duel achieve that? Most would call it madness. But what if he made Ma Uiryong his own man?
Ma Uiryong was the young master of the Ma Family—the future head. If the heir became Jang Muhwi’s subordinate, it was no different from placing the entire family beneath his feet.
Of course, Ma Uiryong’s temperament was like fire; he was not the sort to bow to anyone. That was why he had no true friends. The first step was to temper that fiery nature. Even if it took a long time, obtaining the Ma Family whole was a bargain worth making.
Besides, Jang Muhwi would not be the one doing the reforming.
As he pictured a certain person in his mind, Cheolwoo, walking beside him, asked, “Why is that man following us, Young Master?”
“He agreed to become my Sword Boy starting today.”
“W-wait a moment. You made Ma Uiryong your Sword Boy? What in the world are you thinking…?”
Cheolwoo trailed off and covered his mouth. Ma Uiryong, walking behind them, had begun radiating killing intent.
After glancing back nervously, Cheolwoo lowered his voice. “Young Master, are you serious?”
“Of course I am.”
“You could end up dead doing this.”
“It will be fine. Just carry the luggage properly. First, we have to turn him into a proper person. Watch your back. How could I use Ma Uiryong as a Sword Boy otherwise?”
“That is exactly why I am saying this. Are you planning to duel him again?”
“Why would I waste my strength? Besides, he is not someone who can be suppressed by force alone.”
“Right. A mad dog… ack.”
Realizing he had spoken too loudly, Cheolwoo clamped his mouth shut again. Jang Muhwi chuckled.
“If my own bodyguard is afraid of my Sword Boy, what use are you? Straighten your shoulders.”
“Still, even so…”
Cheolwoo kept glancing behind him, feeling as though a hole might be drilled into the back of his head.
After a moment of thought, he asked, “Where are we going right now?”
“I told you. If I want to use him as a Sword Boy or a bodyguard, I have to make him into a proper person first.”
“You said it was impossible.”
“I said it was impossible with force. I never said it was impossible at all. If it is that elder, he should be able to completely reform this fellow.”
“That elder? Who are you talking about…?”
Cheolwoo stopped mid-sentence. The mountain path they were walking had become familiar.
Just then, Jang Muhwi halted.
“We are almost there. You wait here for a moment.”
Jang Muhwi left Ma Uiryong behind and walked toward a distant hut. Sitting on a wooden bench in front of it was an elderly man in patched robes, holding a teacup. The sight of him sipping tea gave the impression of a sage who had attained enlightenment.
A smile spread across Jang Muhwi’s face as he looked at the old man.
It was none other than Pajuk Seonsaeng—the former imperial tutor, the object of every scholar’s admiration. Of course, he was currently hiding his identity and living in seclusion in the mountains. Yet the world’s perception of him remained unchanged. If anyone learned he was here, every scholar in the land would surely flock to this place. There were even rumors that his seclusion was not exile, but a vacation granted by the emperor himself.
Jang Muhwi gazed at Pajuk Seonsaeng with sparkling eyes. The first “sword” he had obtained upon returning to the past was this very man. Thanks to him, Jang Muhwi had been invited to the Dragon Gate Assembly and obtained the rare encounter known as the Hundred Poisons Physique. None of it would have been possible without Pajuk Seonsaeng.
He glanced back. Ma Uiryong stood more than twenty paces away, chewing his lips with a sour expression.
From now on, it was time to turn the mad dog into a useful shield.
With the moonlight at his back, Jang Muhwi slowly approached Pajuk Seonsaeng, deliberately making his presence known so as not to startle him.
The old man, enjoying his tea, slowly turned his head. The moment their eyes met, Jang Muhwi raised his hands in a respectful salute.
“Elder, have you been well?”
“Hah, it has been a while. I thought you would visit sooner… I am disappointed.”
Pajuk Seonsaeng clicked his tongue and lifted his teacup. Though his words sounded reproachful, a smile lingered on his lips.
Jang Muhwi quietly took out a Go board and placed it on the bench.
“That is why I came.”
“Ohoho. Then I suppose I will not be bored. However…”
Pajuk Seonsaeng looked past Jang Muhwi and spotted Ma Uiryong in the distance, surveying his surroundings with clear displeasure.