Finding the Clue (1)
One day, a turtle appeared at Sorimsa. People took interest in the bizarre sight they'd never seen before, but soon figured it would vanish just as mysteriously. In truth, the turtle itself was seriously considering calling it quits.
"Huff huff! Th-this isn't it! I g-got the direction wrong again!"
That was the turtle's daily lament. But the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, it unfailingly showed up at the foot of Song Mountain and began the climb. Then one day, another turtle joined it. By the end of the first month, yet another had appeared, and by the end of the second, a total of 101 turtles were waddling in a neat line up to Sorimsa. It had become a local spectacle: the three great disciples of Sorimsa and Namgung Daeso.
I glanced back. It had all started as a simple lower-body workout: climbing the mountain with a duck walk. I-gwon, who had nothing better to do, started copying me. A month later, Daegalbak No. 7—shattered shinbone and all—joined in, followed by Ihu. And another month after that, all of Sorimsa's three great disciples were trailing me.
I asked them why they were bothering with this nonsense.
-It looked fun.
-Since the seniors were doing it.
-Turns out it's pretty good for lower-body training.
-The masters and grandmasters aren't objecting anyway.
-They're even kinda encouraging it.
Crazy bastards. Now they even showed up ahead of me, waiting for my arrival.
I'd thought only Namgung Family Estate was full of martial arts maniacs, but Sorimsa was no slouch either.
"Oh! You've come, Youngest Young Master!"
"Yeah, Daegalbak No. 13. Sleep well last night?"
"Haha! How could I sleep with my lowly skills?!"
With those hollowed-out eyes, I worried he'd keel over any second. Get some damn rest.
That's when Ihu appeared. The Daegalbaks all bowed to him in unison. Turns out Ihu was like the big senior brother to the three great disciples. Well, except for I-gwon—let's call that an exception. I'd hardly ever seen the guy talk to anyone but me. Even now, his eyes were fixed solely on me.
I knew exactly why he was joining in on this training.
"Here to babysit again?"
"Yes. Get stronger quick so we can spar again."
I-gwon's eyes gleamed with that burdensome intensity.
Haa… I sighed and forced my gaze away. But even there, another pair of intense eyes was staring me down. Ihu.
"Out again today, as expected!"
Like I had a choice? You guys waiting out here first are the weird ones.
"Let's go… you damn Daegalbaks."
"Haha, splendid! Let's move, lads!"
"Yeah!"
"Onward today too!"
"Why aren't we going yet?"
We're going, we're going!
And that's how it was now: 101 martial artists duck-walking in a line up the mountain. Passersby gawked like it was some freak show.
Song Mountain was tough enough to climb normally. Doing it with a duck walk? Unthinkable for any ordinary person.
"This is!" Huff huff! "The best!" Huff huff! "Thing ever!"
I'd tried countless methods to train my lower body, but nothing beat the duck walk. Most folks thought of the horse stance first—simple, and the effects were outstanding compared to others. Just squat there with bent legs, and the weight builds your muscles naturally.
But horse stance wasn't easy. Even martial artists struggled to hold it for over an hour without inner energy.
The next step was stepping techniques. After stationary training came movement. The duck walk combined both: never relaxing your legs' tension while advancing. And it was brutal even on flat ground—but now it was uphill… on Song Mountain, infamous as one of the Central Plains' toughest climbs.
Every step felt like my thighs would burst. Groans echoed nonstop from behind.
"Huff huff! Senior Brother, my thigh muscles feel like they're melting. This sensation is the best!"
Hm… Nah?
"Haha! I've lost all feeling in my right foot."
Nah, guess not.
"Jealous! I'll push till I lose sensation too!"
Hold up, you guys… isn't that serious?
"I-I'm dying!"
Finally, a normal sound. Thank goodness—Sorimsa had at least one sane person.
"Feels so good I could die! I want my muscles to tear like this!"
"…"
Right, why was I even worrying about Sorimsa? Old habits die hard.
Then Ihu, sticking close behind me, whipped around and bellowed.
"Who just whined like a weakling?!"
No one here, though?
"Sorry! The thrill of my thighs nearly bursting was too much—I lost control!"
"I'll work even harder from now on!"
"Good! What's our goal?"
Ihu led the chant, and the three great disciples echoed it.
"Crush the Namgung Clan!"
Fair enough.
"Next!"
"Crush Namgung Daeso!"
Eh? Why me? What'd I ever do to you?
This was unfair.
"Defeat the Youngest Young Master!"
"Ooooooh!"
Ihu looked at me with grim resolve.
"Let's go! Our goal is right in front of us!"
That guy's the real problem. Should've smashed his shin instead of his head back then.
Speaking of which, maybe drag Je-cheon into this training. He'd been bouncing around full of energy lately—kinda annoying to watch. Could kill two birds: whip him into shape and improve his health.
* * *
At Sorimsa's mountain gate, Jinheo and Jingak peered down from above.
"I can't remember the last time things felt this lively."
Jinheo gazed at the three great disciples duck-waddling up amid a chorus of groans(?). A pleased smile spread across his face.
"Heh heh, we've been too stagnant lately. But Junior Brother, how's the selection for the new Ten Precepts going?"
Jingak turned with a face full of dissatisfaction at Jinheo's question.
"Senior Brother, if you're so curious, why not take back the Abbot position?"
"Just asking, not prying. So, how's it coming along? And I said it's Junior Brother."
Jingak shook his head and glanced down again before replying.
"New wine needs new wineskins, doesn't it?"
His gaze fell on the three great disciples, sweating buckets as they climbed.
"Heh heh, I see. They'll handle it well enough."
"By the way, Senior Brother, did you sweep the front courtyard this morning?"
"…"
"Get to it quick. Visitor incense has spiked lately—back courtyard, side courtyard, the one next to that, and the next next one all need sweeping too. Why stand there looking awkward? Hurry up."
"…You mean it? I'm a former Sorimsa Abbot, you know?"
"I'm the current Abbot."
"…"
Jinheo clamped his mouth shut, regretting his meddling. Should he just take Abbot back? Jingak shot him a glare. He might get kicked out at this rate.
Jinheo muttered to the air and sidled away.
"Where'd I leave my broom… heh heh."
* * *
Three months later, venomous determination etched the faces of the mountain-climbing three great disciples. Just a month ago, they'd been chattering excitedly, but now not a peep.
Sorimsa's Ten Precepts!
They had a new goal.
The Abbot said he'd pick from us three great disciples.
If I make the Ten Precepts, I can learn supreme arts!
I'll become one of the Ten Precepts no matter what!
I looked back. No idea why, but their eyes burned with fire.
"Suddenly so gung-ho."
I faced forward again. I-gwon was diligently duck-walking up the mountain.
Three months of this routine, and results were showing. The daily hell of the duck walk had become routine. Solid muscles had formed in my legs as planned, and my climbing speed had picked up. The gap with the Daegalbaks behind me proved it. Only Ihu and a few others kept pace without falling behind.
Time to add something else alongside it… but one issue.
I looked ahead again.
The distance isn't shrinking.
The gap with I-gwon stayed constant, start to finish. I'd caught on that he was deliberately matching my pace.
Lately, my routine started at dawn: wake, meditate with ungijo-sik, loosen up with a run-through of my arts. By then it was afternoon. Quick meal, then about two hours of duck-walking the mountain with the three great disciples.
Used to leave me wiped out, but lately I'd added one more session.
Sunset, nightfall. Those two old coots vanished every evening—who knew where?—returning next morning exhausted. Then gone again at night. No sign of trouble, but their scheme was a total mystery.
They'll manage. As long as no disasters.
No spare attention for them anyway. I stepped into the courtyard and assumed horse stance.
"At this rate, I'll never catch up to I-gwon."
I drew a slow, deep breath. Air filled my battered body, bringing faint recovery. From there, I slowly thrust my fist forward.
Pair stepping with martial arts display. Starting with Samjae Geombeop. Bare-handed, but it worked. Back to basics.
Why Samjae Geombeop? Simple: I'd neglected it, but it's a basic art. Builds and recovers simultaneously.
With each rep, energy filled my body. This feels the best.
That moment.
"Huh? Wait!"
I halted mid-motion.
"No need to separate training from martial arts, right?"
Usually, build the body first, then learn arts. Common sense—deploying arts on an imperfect body risks injury or qi deviation.
But Samjae Geombeop is a basic art. Allows both at once.
What if I used its method in daily life?
No big gains expected—can't match full-focus practice. But even partial recovery alongside?
Worth trying. And what art simpler than Samjae Geombeop? Just three moves: slash, thrust, overhead cut.
But! If I hadn't grasped its basic art charm, I'd think that too.
"The focus is cheonse (heavenly generation), jise (earthly generation), inse (human generation)."
Why it's a basic art: perform cheonse, jise, inse in order, and heaven-earth-man subtly unite, resonating with worldly qi. That's why energy accumulates bit by bit.
Back then, I wouldn't have known—but now I vaguely saw it.
Some complex five elements, four images, six harmonies principle underlay it, but who cared? Didn't know, didn't want to.
Do it, and it happens. Results over process!
"The human body is like the universe."
First lesson for all martial learners. Infinite potential hidden within, since the universe holds all.
Thus, cheonse needn't mean literal sky. If man is universe: head is cheonse. Chest inse. Lower body jise.
How to link them? Samjae Geombeop used the sword as medium for unity.
Can't swing a sword daily. Beggar for crazy.
Something to encompass all three?
Huuuup, haa.
Huuuup, haa.
Huuuup?Haa…
Huuuup??Haa??
Found it. Breathing.