Chapter 259
Chapter 259
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 259
Chapter Title: Heart-Piercing Sword
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When a son returns home after wandering far away for a long time, a father's story invariably begins with something like, "You must have had it rough."
However, the tale Dang Jesun told Dang Mujin was a bit different.
"Mujin."
"Yes."
"I know you left for something important. But for the time being, you'd better watch Seol-yeong and Wana's moods while you stay here. Both girls have gentle personalities, so they've been quiet about it, but if they were even a little more hot-tempered, there would've been hell to pay."
"Understood."
Dang Mujin didn't know his mother's face. She had passed away unable to survive childbirth.
Because of that, Dang Mujin rarely felt her absence. He had never known her from the start, so feeling a void would have been the strange thing.
But unlike Dang Mujin, Dang Jesun had lived his entire life feeling the emptiness left by his wife.
It was only natural that his longing and regret for her manifested as affection for his two daughters-in-law.
'In truth, even setting that aside, I was way too irresponsible.'
Who wouldn't see him as the epitome of an irresponsible head of household? Dang Mujin reflected deeply.
*
After that, Dang Mujin stayed obediently within the Dang family estate walls.
Of course, that didn't mean he was lounging around in his room like some wastrel, eating and playing all day.
His time at the estate was for the family and the household, but it was also preparation for the future.
'A typhoon will hit soon.'
The Great Righteous War, or perhaps the Righteous-Demonic War.
He didn't know exactly when, but the outbreak of events was a foregone conclusion.
Unlike the other massive righteous sects, the Dang family could step back without major issues.
The real problem was his friends.
His three friends belonged to the Beggars' Sect, the Namgung family, and the Wudang Sect. They wouldn't be able to avoid the fighting.
'Now it's my turn to help.'
Thinking back, most of the battles Dang Mujin had fought so far hadn't been for his friends' sake.
He had always been the one in need of help, and his friends had never backed down, always standing by his side in the fights.
But now, the day was approaching when Dang Mujin would have to wield his sword for his friends.
Every day at dawn, Dang Mujin rose, completed his qi circulation and breathing exercises, then spent the remaining time in the back courtyard, swinging his sword alongside the other warriors and devoting himself to training.
*
But it wasn't long before Dang Mujin encountered a small problem.
'Why is this happening all of a sudden?'
In the month or so since returning to the estate, Dang Mujin had been completely immersed in his cultivation.
Swinging his sword from morning made it sharper by evening, and focusing on martial arts in the evening brought small insights by the next morning. It was a situation that naturally hooked him on training.
However, just over a month after his return, as if his previous rapid progress had been a lie, Dang Mujin's martial prowess stalled.
It felt like his waist was bound by a thick rope to a massive tree trunk, struggling futilely to move forward.
Of course, there was some progress. But the gains were unmistakably meager, something he couldn't ignore.
It wasn't mere delusion. The results showed in his recent spars.
Dang Mujin's most frequent sparring partners were his three friends.
He had always struggled to beat Hyeon-gong or Namgung Myeong when they clashed swords, so losing to them wasn't strange.
But lately, even facing Hong Geolgae had become taxing. And while Dang Mujin hadn't unleashed his poison arts, Hong Geolgae hadn't used his Eight Steps of the Drunken Immortal either.
'Why has it suddenly ground to a halt?'
Dang Mujin invested even more time in training, poured effort into qi circulation, and meditated deeply.
Yet he couldn't break through this impasse.
Naturally, his enthusiasm for cultivation waned, and the time he spent training began to shorten.
After a few days like that, Hong Geolgae came to him and asked.
"Hey, why'd you stop cultivating lately?"
"Stop? I'm training every day."
"You know what I mean. You've been slacking off a bit."
Dang Mujin started to explain the situation but felt something choke his throat.
His pride didn't want to whine about weakness.
But with a deep sigh, Dang Mujin set his pride aside.
There weren't many people he could discuss this with. His master, the Strange Physician, had been dead for ages, leaving only the Three-Eyed Demon, Blood Hand Guest, and his three friends for advice.
If Hong Geolgae were in the same spot, Dang Mujin would have listened to his troubles too.
Of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't tease him.
When Dang Mujin seriously laid out the situation, Hong Geolgae replied.
"That sounds like something Hyeon-gong or Namgung Myeong would know better. Wait here a sec."
Before Dang Mujin could nod, Hong Geolgae leaped up and swiftly brought back Namgung Myeong and Hyeon-gong.
Dang Mujin explained again, and Hyeon-gong began.
"Warriors advance their prowess through cultivation and real combat. That's why those who diligently train also periodically venture into the jianghu for battle experience, and why survivors of the Great Righteous War achieve great breakthroughs."
"I know that."
"But you've had plenty of combat experience and lacked cultivation. Thanks to that, you made huge strides while cultivating here at the estate, but now your cultivation and combat are balancing out, slowing your growth."
Dang Mujin looked around. Fortunately, Dan Seol-yeong and Mok Wana weren't in sight.
"So, to make progress, I have to leave the estate again, wander, and come back? I haven't even been back long."
Hyeon-gong looked awkward.
"It might be that, but hearing your story, I think it might not be..."
"Then what is it?"
Hyeon-gong hesitated at Dang Mujin's question, not because he didn't know, but as if it was awkward to say.
Namgung Myeong, who had been listening silently, cut in.
"Want me to tell him?"
Hyeon-gong seemed reluctant despite knowing, but Namgung Myeong wasn't like that.
If something needed saying, he said it bluntly without regard for others' feelings.
Of course, that meant he blundered just as boldly, which cost him his left arm.
That very trait made him trustworthy.
Namgung Myeong would surely get straight to the point without beating around the bush.
"What is it?"
When Dang Mujin pressed, Namgung Myeong gave an utterly unexpected answer.
"Simply put, your sword talent has nearly reached its limit."
"...Huh?"
"Why the surprise? Everyone has innate talents. Your skill has caught up to the edge of yours."
His tone was serious, but it was hard to tell if he meant it or was joking. Dang Mujin eyed him with a subtle expression.
Namgung Myeong spoke with a straight face, no hint of a smile.
It was the face of a warrior who poured his heart into the sword, not a thief hopping fences or a loafer killing time at the estate.
"Dang Mujin. Namgung family men start swinging wooden swords at six or seven. Do you know how many Namgung warriors have surpassed the peak realm?"
"...No idea."
"Including my father and me, eleven. Excluding Shaolin Temple, it's the highest, no exaggeration. The youngest to break through was my father, then me. Notice anything?"
His head felt frozen from the shocking revelation before the question.
Dang Mujin stammered.
"What should I notice?"
"Your achievements were bizarrely fast. It took me fifteen years of swordplay to break through. Hyeon-gong took over a decade too. But how long did it take you?"
Dang Mujin retraced his thoughts quietly.
He started learning the sword after meeting the Strange Physician, surpassing the peak in under three years. Absurdly short by any measure.
Namgung Myeong continued.
"Of course, your circumstances aren't ordinary. You'd mastered the eight extraordinary meridians and the human body through medicine before martial arts, and the Strange Physician was the best possible master for you in the world. He taught only you all day, no other disciples."
Dang Mujin nodded, and Namgung Myeong went on.
"Plus, you took precious spiritual medicines like Black Peony and Great Return Pill. No need to grind inner power slowly like others. You also got early and ample combat most never experience. It wasn't just luck. Your innate martial talent was exceptional too, allowing those feats."
Looking back, he had been incredibly fortunate. Fortuitous encounters others could only dream of.
"I know my progress was fast."
"Yeah. You ran faster than anyone. But the fastest doesn't always go the farthest or longest."
Dang Mujin was struck anew by the fact that Namgung Myeong was Namgung blood.
His tone was utterly cold, like Namgung Jincheon.
It wasn't pleasant to hear, so Dang Mujin frowned unconsciously.
"So what, my talent ends here, no point training the sword anymore?"
"No. It means you're finally feeling what ordinary people do."
"Explain."
"Cultivation isn't a leisurely stroll on a pleasant path with good water and breeze. You start light, but eventually face a massive rocky mountain. Then you grab a pickaxe and chisel through solid cliffs, carving a tunnel. You've just hit your mountain."
Namgung Myeong paused for breath, then continued.
"Among ten or twenty who devote their lives to the sword, maybe one breaks through before death. Plenty hit their limits sooner than you. You ran fastest and hit yours late."
Dang Mujin's expression didn't brighten.
"So, be grateful for what you have and give up?"
"As if. Others felt this far earlier but kept cultivating endlessly. They chisel forward bit by bit."
Even among Namgung warriors with world-class sword talent, how many failed to achieve their desires and hit walls?
Namgung Myeong had grown up seeing that, so his words rang true.
Yet Dang Mujin resisted accepting it rashly.
"But you and Hyeon-gong are still progressing fast?"
Namgung Myeong smirked.
"I'm a genius. Hyeon-gong's decent enough to call one too."
"And Hong Geolgae?"
"He's slower than most but goes longer and farther. Wait, he broke through at twenty-five—slow? Anyway, his talent's excellent."
Dang Mujin felt an inexplicable sense of deprivation.
He had outdone ordinary folk, so should he settle?
He couldn't.
What mattered to Dang Mujin weren't the achievements of nameless warriors.
His benchmarks were his three closest friends.
He didn't want to stand still, chisel lonely rock alone, watching them advance.
A filthy feeling he'd never known in life.
Hyeon-gong added.
"It's not some weird hurdle. It's finally normal. Struggle forward to achieve—that's cultivation's essence, right?"
Hearing that, someone came to mind: Jin Song, chief instructor of the Qingcheng Chengdu Branch.
When he first met the Strange Physician, Dang Mujin dreamed only of reaching first-rate like Jin Song.
Now, having surpassed peak, he wasn't satisfied. He envisioned breaking super-peak with his friends. Yet Jin Song, with far longer training, still hadn't.
He'd only realized late because gains had come easy with effort till now.
Namgung Myeong said.
"I'm not saying quit. You hit a limit in sword talent, not martial talent."
"Isn't that the same?"
When Dang Mujin retorted, Namgung Myeong replied as if he'd heard nonsense.
"You think sword is all of martial arts? Even if the world does, you shouldn't."
Namgung Myeong, having said his piece, rose to train. Hyeon-gong and Hong Geolgae lingered briefly then left.
Dang Mujin sank into thought.
'Sword, and martial arts beyond sword.'
Faced with the sudden choice, he couldn't decide easily.
So he stayed in the back courtyard, swinging his sword.
Meals minimal. Sleep rare, or crashing for one or two hours a day.
Dan Seol-yeong and Mok Wana watched from afar.
*
A fortnight passed like that.
Not long, but no regrets lingered; time wholly devoted to the sword.
Dang Mujin reviewed his fortnight's gains.
He had to admit: Namgung Myeong was right.
Without some special catalyst, no more swift, certain progress.
Dang Mujin gazed east. Dawn was breaking dimly.
No proper rest or sleep in a fortnight, yet his weary body brimmed with vigor again.
Before the sun fully rose, Dang Mujin closed his eyes.
A graying middle-aged man appeared vividly. The sullen man eyed Dang Mujin.
In darkness, the Strange Physician drew his sword.
He assumed the Heart-Piercing Sword ready stance.
Too casual and light for battle prep.
Slowly demonstrating forms, he ended with the three key ones.
Sparrow Bee. A feint draws the foe, striking the throat.
Long Spring Vine. Like ivy, climbs the enemy's blade flexibly to their vitals.
Peak. Dots the shortest path to the heart.
The Strange Physician sat cross-legged in darkness, gazing at Dang Mujin.
Now Dang Mujin rose, adjusted stance, and unleashed Heart-Piercing Sword at empty air.
His sword followed the master's sequence exactly.
Ending with concise thrust, it stopped.
Dang Mujin looked at the Strange Physician.
No praise.
Instead, a silent grin. His usual sly expression.
But Dang Mujin saw faint surprise and pride in those eyes.
A master's gaze at a disciple unknowingly surpassed him.
So Dang Mujin grinned back.
'Right. I'd come this far without knowing.'
Dang Mujin opened his eyes, stretched refreshingly. No regrets now.
If master's path ended here, disciple's role was forging ahead.
He sheathed his sword.
Sword talent hadn't touched heaven, but martial talent showed no limit yet. Dang Mujin's steps felt lighter than ever.