Yi Uigang (1)
After hearing Wang Gohu's advice, I decided to go see Cheok Hwaryeon.
The Cheok Clan was my mother's family, to be sure, but barging in out of nowhere and demanding a sword would have been downright shameless.
So my plan was to ask Cheok Hwaryeon to write a letter for me — something along the lines of, "My son could use a good sword, please~"
'I mean, she's my mother, and I haven't gone to pay my respects even once.'
That was the thing. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I'd ended up meeting Wang Inho without ever meeting Cheok Hwaryeon.
You know how it is. It wasn't that I lacked the time, but whenever I remembered and resolved to go, something came up, and by the time I remembered again, actually heading out felt like too much of a hassle. That sort of thing.
Now, a week later and out and about anyway, I figured I might as well pay her a proper visit.
'I'm going to get lectured within an inch of my life.'
Maybe I should just turn around and go back to my room....
But filial impiety was not an option, so I didn't turn back.
"Mother. It's Mujin."
"...As far as I'm aware, I have no son."
"I beg your pardon? What is that supposed to mean? Are you feeling unwell?"
What kind of ghost-eating-graves nonsense was this?
I asked with genuine worry, wondering if she'd somehow come down with early dementia — and in response, Cheok Hwaryeon unleashed a monstrous surge of inner energy.
Grooooooar.
"If I had a son, he would at least have shown his face once in the four years since he left home, wouldn't you say?"
Yikes.
She was well and truly furious.
Since making excuses here would only fan her anger further, the wisest move was to beg forgiveness on the spot.
"I'm sorry, Mother. Please, just this once, forgive me."
"Had you delayed even one more day, no one would have opened this door for you, Young Lord."
"Understood."
Phew. I'd better start acting like an actual son from now on. At this rate, Cheok Hwaryeon was liable to write me off entirely.
After stationing Ansong outside and opening the door, I could feel the lingering residue of the inner energy Cheok Hwaryeon had just unleashed.
'So Cheok Hwaryeon is a Transcendent too, then.'
I'd roughly suspected as much, but now that I'd reached that realm myself and was seeing it with fresh eyes, I knew it for certain. However meek and demure she might always appear, she was, after all, a descendant of Cheok Jun-gyeong's blood.
Cheok Jun-gyeong was said to be the most famous general Goryeo had ever produced, past or present. He ranked above even Yu Geum-pil of that illustrious Yu Clan — any further comparison would just be wasted breath.
When I'd first heard the stories about Cheok Jun-gyeong after my rebirth, my heart had pounded without my even willing it.
"So, what brings you here? You wouldn't have come all this way without some reason."
You know me far too well, don't you?
There was no point inventing a pretext, so I decided to get straight to the matter at hand.
"I'm hoping to acquire a sword from the Cheok Clan, and I wanted to ask you to write a letter of introduction."
"To your mother's family, you mean."
"Yes. The Great Elder told me that when it comes to swords, nothing surpasses the Cheok Clan."
"Haah. What a thing for him to say...."
For reasons that soon became clear, Cheok Hwaryeon sighed and took out brush and ink.
"Then wait a moment. I happened to have a letter to send anyway, so this works out nicely."
"Yes, ma'am."
I waited obediently as she'd instructed, and after writing for quite some time, Cheok Hwaryeon spoke up.
"Do you know anything about the Cheok Clan?"
"Er... only that it's a family founded by the descendants of Cheok Jun-gyeong."
Of course, I saying this was a descendant of Cheok Jun-gyeong myself. But it didn't particularly feel that way, if I'm honest. My talent had come from my past life, and if pressed, the only inherited thing about me was a body of strong bones.
"Then listen carefully. The Cheok Clan is the most warlike of the Six Great Clans. Do you understand what that means?"
"Hmm. It sounds like you're telling me not to cause any trouble."
"Yes. Exactly that."
That much I already knew. Among such formidable families as the Wang, Shin, Kim, Jang, and Yu clans, the Cheok Clan had reigned supreme in one field and one field only: raw martial power.
Even I had not the slightest desire to go stirring up trouble in a place like that.
That said....
'I'm looking forward to this.'
The sword mattered, of course, but I was equally eager to witness the Cheok Clan's sword arts for myself.
This was the Cheok Clan, after all, famed for its swordwork. Just as I had mastered the Moyong Clan's Dujeon Seongi and forged it into the Limitless Revolving Sword, a sword art for the ages — there might well be something here worth devouring.
At that point, Cheok Hwaryeon finished writing, folded the letter with care, and held it out to me.
"Here you are. You may read it if you like, but see that it's delivered properly. And don't worry — I asked for a good sword, so you'll get one."
"Thank you, Mother."
"So you do remember you have a mother, when it suits you."
"Next time I'll come see you first! I swear it! Absolutely!"
"You do talk a fine game."
"Haha."
Dreading another round of lecturing, I slipped out of the room quickly — and an unexpected figure caught my eye.
"Master of the White Tiger Pavilion?"
"Well, you see... ahem! I've come to offer my apologies for the other day."
By "the other day," he surely meant the uproar at the clan council. But why on earth was he apologizing to me for that? If anyone was owed an apology, it was Wang Inho, the one who'd presided over it.
When I gave him a look that said what are you on about, Yi Uigang hurriedly added,
"There was talk, wasn't there, that I had shown disrespect to the Young Lord. So I came to apologize—"
"I already said I'd forgiven all of that. Isn't the matter closed?"
"My conscience will not rest easy."
And with that he made to kneel, so I rushed to stop him. Was Yi Uigang becoming another Moyong Hu?
"Please, don't do this. You're putting me in an awkward position."
When I hauled him back to his feet by force, Yi Uigang bowed his head with dead eyes.
"That is not the man I am, and yet I committed a grave breach of loyalty. Were I given ten mouths — no, a hundred — I would still have nothing to say in my defense."
Seeing him berate himself so sincerely sent an unexpected solemnity through me as well.
"If you would assign me even the meanest errand, I would take it gladly, as my due penance."
A meanest errand, he says. However you sliced it, making a girl's father run errands for me felt like far too heavy a burden to place on him.
But if I gave him nothing to do, I could see plain as day that he would wallow in self-reproach for ages.
...Which meant there was really only one thing for it.
"Then would you care to take a look at my sword art? During my closed-door training I developed a technique of my own, and I'd like to test just how far it holds up."
"You — you created a sword art?"
Yi Uigang's eyes went round, as if hearing it for the very first time.
Wait. Pretty sure I'd mentioned this before.
So that was it. Deep down, this man hadn't believed a word I'd said.
Be that as it may, a warrior's problems were best solved the warrior's way — through martial arts. Weighing this against that and dithering over words was eunuch's work. Indeed.
"Are you interested, then?"
"Just leave it to me, Young Lord!"
Perhaps moved by the fact that I had created my own sword art, Yi Uigang's eyes went glassy with emotion as he rolled up his sleeves.
Well. It wasn't as if I'd made the story up. I genuinely was curious how far the Limitless Revolving Sword would hold against the Master of the White Tiger Pavilion.
If it worked, it truly was a sword art for the ages. If not, it would simply go down in history as a somewhat unusual one.
As I headed for the Great Training Hall with Yi Uigang, Ansong's transmitted voice reached me.
'Is this really all right, Young Lord?'
'What could go wrong? As long as I don't get hurt.'
'You're not exactly known for managing that, are you.'
Why, this little—
'Then would you care to step in for me?'
'A sudden chill just ran through my body. I believe I may be coming down with a cold.'
This rascal. A cold, my foot.
Leaving Ansong to his groaning about colds, I set off for the Great Training Hall — and behind me came the sound of feet sprinting pell-mell to catch up. Apparently escort duty was one thing even a cold couldn't stop him from doing.
'This place hasn't changed a bit, either.'
Standing there in the cavernous training hall, I found myself thinking of the Dansewon.
"Might I first hear what manner of sword art this is?"
Yi Uigang asked with a grave face. Explaining the underlying principles would have been a slog, so I gave him only a rough sketch of its essence — at which his expression asked whether such a thing were even possible.
"Hm. I'll have to see it to believe it."
I wouldn't believe me either. A sword art that attacked and defended simultaneously? By any common standard, it made no sense at all.
'That's martial arts for you.'
Besides, when had the martial arts ever been sensible? Hardening the body like iron, accelerating recovery, cleaving boulders in two — the arts everyone knew were already absurd, so something a little more absurd than absurd could certainly exist once or twice.
With that thought, I plucked a random sword from the rack. When I drew my inner energy up, Yi Uigang let out a gasp of admiration.
"Inner energy of this density... I've never seen its like, save in the Clan Lord himself."
Then what on earth will happen when I've absorbed the whole of the Tiger Dragon Body Pill?
Come to think of it, this Tiger Dragon Body Pill might be an even more miraculous elixir than I'd realized.
Shuaaak!
In an instant, the Limitless Revolving Sword was complete. I cracked my eyes half-open and looked at Yi Uigang.
"Shall we cross blades, then?"
"Gladly. At what level of force shall I meet you?"
"Full strength. I ask for nothing less than your full strength."
"Are you certain that's wise—"
Yi Uigang began, then shut his mouth. He had seen the look in Mujin's eyes — suddenly grave as winter.
'I nearly made a mistake.'
From the very moment they had stood on the training floor, Mujin and Yi Uigang needed only to face each other as warriors. That was all.
Having grasped that truth, Yi Uigang set aside his worry for the boy and corrected himself. The only thing worth fretting over from this point on was the martial arts, and nothing else. So thinking, Yi Uigang clenched his fists.
Whoooong!
Inner force flooded into Yi Uigang's two fists, and soon a deep rumbling rose from them. It felt like a tiger's roar echoing back from far away, and the hair on Mujin's arms stood on end.
KWAAANG!
Without the slightest warning, Yi Uigang kicked off the ground. No declaration of attack, no counting down — nothing. Only Yi Uigang in motion, and the shattered flagstones beneath him, announcing the beginning.
'Now this is more like it.'
I had no complaints. No — if anything, I was satisfied.
With a sharp grin, I swept my sword out, matching the speed of Yi Uigang's incoming fist.
KAANG!
Fist met blade, and a scream of clashing metal rang out as though two pieces of iron had struck.
PAANG!
And in the next breath, a wave of sword force flew straight at Yi Uigang. The Limitless Revolving Sword had come fully alive.
The problem was that it hadn't worked on him at all.
"It is exactly as you described. A truly extraordinary sword art."
A monster.
No other word fit. My sword qi, laced with the recoil of the Limitless Revolving Sword, had struck him square — and he hadn't budged an inch.
And there was one more problem.
'The Reverse Sense just triggered?!'
A single exchange. The Reverse Sense — the instinct that stirred only in the shadow of death — had responded after exactly one exchange.
Well then. This had just gotten a great deal more interesting.