There Was a Method (3)
Ilseon Dosa spoke.
"Countless real battles. Martial arts are no different from building a massive castle, brick by brick from the ground up. But you, Young Master, started with a stubborn, colossal foundation right from the beginning. That's why you've been able to learn multiple arts at once in a way no one else in the martial world could."
Ilseon Dosa quietly voiced the thought he'd been harboring.
"Even looking through all of martial history, this is unprecedented."
He chanted inwardly. 'Amitabha.'
Even if endless time passed in the future, no one like Namgung Daeso would ever appear again.
Ilseon Dosa gazed at him with complex emotions. The thirteen-year-old boy was looking up at him with eyes full of longing.
Every martial artist faced a wall at some point and had two choices: give up or challenge it.
His young master was choosing to press forward.
"The normal way would be to look back, rebuild more solidly than before, layer by layer."
That was best exemplified by orthodox arts. If you imagined martial realms as a scale from 1 to 100, orthodox arts started at 1 and progressed steadily toward 100, growing stronger over time. That was why so many orthodox masters were old men.
Namgung Daeso's case was orthodox too, but a bit different.
'The arts the Young Master learned are genuine orthodox arts.'
But the order was wrong. Not starting from 1, but from around 50?
Hyegeom exemplified that best. To learn Hyegeom, one first mastered Wudang's foundational Kunlun Nine Palaces, then Taeguk Sword and Taecheong Sword Method, achieving perfect understanding of Taeguk.
Yet Namgung Daeso had jumped straight to Hyegeom. Something utterly impossible under normal circumstances. His absurd foundation and genius intellect had made it feasible.
The same went for his other arts. Hitting a wall was inevitable.
Starting at 50 meant the first 49 were hollow. No matter how solid the base or how brilliant the mind filling the gaps, martial arts weren't that forgiving.
This world produced countless geniuses. Some learned arts like Daeso, achieving feats impossible for their age in others' eyes. But few went on to make names for themselves later.
The reason? They never filled those early gaps. It was tedious work, unrelated to their prior flashes of genius. Pure, relentless effort was required—the one area where mediocrity could catch genius!
"If you start now with the mindset of learning anew, you'll break through that wall and reach a new realm in ten years."
"That's—!"
"Of course not. You need to shatter it in two years."
Unlike orthodox arts, demonic or unorthodox grew fast. But Daeso's were pure orthodox—no shortcuts there.
"Do you know about ronin, Young Master?"
Ronin used orthodox arts but trained like demonic arts practitioners. Without masters, they honed forms through endless real combat, seeking enlightenment that way.
Daeso needed that now.
I swallowed a groan. 'Real battle experience...'
It was indeed optimal. The problem? That method was outdated now.
"Where do I even get that kind of experience?"
This was an era of peace. You needed conflicts, even wars, for real battles. The Demonic Cult was gone or hiding, and the unorthodox lurked quietly in remote villages.
"Would intense spars with the Daegalbak uncles here, mimicking real fights, work?"
Ilseon Dosa shook his head.
"You need fresh stimulus now, Young Master. Not from old folks like us—pure, clashing fighting spirit with peers. This is as far as we can help. If you want to start over from scratch, sure, but..."
"What about sparring with other Namgung folks...?"
Ilseon Dosa continued with a negative tone.
"We've already declared our backing of you, crushing Yi-gwon's faction in the process. You're now seen as the true Namgung heir. If you challenge random clansmen to spars, they'll refuse. Even if they accept, they'll hold back. Such spars are useless, no matter how many."
How did it come to this...?
I had no options left.
But.
'I can't give up on Sawangjeon.'
At worst, just participating would do. Use it as a springboard for the young heir contest.
Sure, but...
'I hate that.'
Maybe it was the taste of victory, or reckless bravado. Either way, I didn't want to back down like this.
Yeah. If I had to pinpoint a reason, it was my past self—the pre-regression me, those efforts, those ideals, that unyielding will refusing to break no matter the odds. Maybe that was driving me now.
My start had been fleeing, and my dream was still escaping Namgung Sega.
But.
'I want to walk the world as a Namgung, head held high.'
"Let's find a way. Until then, ramp up the spars."
* * *
Three days after the proxy duel ended.
Namgung Sega buzzed again over Third Brother's second seclusion, but for a different reason this time. Victory at Sawangjeon. His training was for the title of world's best.
Everyone supported him, even Father, who rarely appeared, personally encouraging him. Now, no faction dared touch Third Brother—he had perfect justification for pure cultivation.
I sparred nonstop with the Daegalbak uncles. Intensity rose, but my progress stalled. Anxiety dragged me down, making me impatient, like pre-regression days.
A month later, Monk Grandpa and Snout Grandpa visited.
"Time to rest, lad."
"This'll just hurt your body."
I had no retort, just nodded.
After routine ungijo-sik meditation, I looked skyward. Normally sparring time with Daegalbak. But three days' forced rest to "cool my head." No counterarguments came, so I agreed and wandered Hebi's streets for the first time in ages.
"Still so peaceful here."
How long since I'd seen the outside? A world apart from Namgung Sega. Passersby brimmed with leisure, faces slick with prosperity. Kids ran freely, no safety worries.
All I'd ever wanted.
"Aigoo... Why's what comes easy to others so damn hard for me?"
Rare free time, but too rare—I had no idea what to do. Since regressing, it'd all been martial arts. No play memories.
I just strolled the streets. Some recognized and greeted me—fame spiked post-proxy duel.
Day one ended wandering till night, then bed in the estate.
Day two: Streets exhausted, so estate tour. At Hoegumgak, Old Man played go with the Hoegumgak lord. Samhyang directed folks busily. Didn't want to interrupt, moved on.
Next, Uiyakdang. Same bustle—Ilhyang and doctors tending endless patients. I turned to Gunsajeon, finding Namgung Je-cheon napping.
"This guy's really deputy strategist?"
Idlest in the estate today: me and him. He stirred at my presence.
"Huh? Youngest Young Master? What brings you here?"
"Wipe the drool first."
"Aw, who's around to see?"
Me!
Dried spit on his face nearly made breakfast rise.
"You're surprisingly free?"
I phrased it nicely. Maybe hidden duties— all-nighter, catching up on sleep?
"Free? Slept so much my back hurts."
Figures.
"How long?"
"From morning till now... whole morning, basically."
Can they really leave Namgung Sega like this? No incidents yet, so maybe.
"Oh! Youngest Young Master! No training today? You look free too. Thought you'd be slammed prepping for Sawangjeon."
"Just cooling my head. What's this?"
I pointed at desk papers.
Namgung Je-cheon grinned.
"Heh, I'm diligent by nature, right?"
All diligent folks must be dead.
"When there's no work, I make some. That's me."
You were sleeping. I saw.
Lying now too. His one virtue was kindness—tch.
"So I organized these. Third Young Master secluded again for Sawangjeon. Papers list past top performers."
I picked one up.
Name: Mujin Dosa
Career: 1st Sawangjeon Winner
Affiliation: Sorimsa
Art: Fist Corner Technique
'Sorimsa... Even in ruin, Shaolin's Shaolin.'
Next paper.
Name: U-gija
Career: 2nd Sawangjeon Winner
Affiliation: Wudang
Art: Swordsmanship
'Wudang this time.'
Dropped them, grabbed two more: 3rd and 4th winners, both Sorimsa.
From 5th, Namgung names appeared.
5th Winner: Namgung Dae
5th Runner-up: Namgung Sa-cheol
6th Winner: Namgung Jung
6th Runner-up: Namgung Il-bak
Starting with Eldest Brother, Namgung dominated. Shocking: no wins before.
Namgung Je-cheon read my reaction, smirking oddly.
"Heh, you noticed, Youngest Young Master. Before Eldest, we weren't that strong."
This meant...
"'Surprisingly' my ass. Gu Pa Il Bang still strong?"
"Yes! They're no slouches. Just Eldest and Second unreal."
That moment.
"Found it."
"Found what?"
"The method!"
Battle-like experience! Might even find my lost kids as a bonus!
My eyes locked on one word: Sorimsa!
I bolted from Gunsajeon.
"Where to?"
Namgung Je-cheon followed for some reason.
"To Second Brother. Why're you tagging along?"
"Kekeke. Looks fun. You're off to stir trouble, right, Young Master?"
Trouble...? Not sure till I try.
"Says the cat that climbs the stove first. When I dodged Master and caused chaos, your eyes were just like this. Wanna bet I guess your trouble?"
I glanced, urging him on, then hurried.
"Sorimsa."
My steps halted.
Namgung Je-cheon beamed, thrilled.
"Gonna flip Sorimsa upside down, right? Wouldn't go when I said! Liar!!"
Crazy bastard... Oh right, he is.
Half-right, anyway. I planned to poke Sorimsa a bit—with bait they'd drool over.
"Unifying the martial world starts at Sorimsa!"
I said I won't!