Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Sword's Melody
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Mastering rhythm—in other words, modulating the pitch of sounds to produce a melody—is no simple task.
Even those who have polished their craft over countless years to ascend to the realm of true artistry struggle to harmonize myriad tones into something pleasing to the ear.
Thus, for Yang-hui, who lacked profound knowledge of music and wasn't blessed with Seol-ha's innate talent, passing the Tone Gate was utterly impossible.
But.
'Rhythm isn't solely about pitch.'
In rhythm, there's something equally vital to pitch.
Rhythm itself—or rather, the intervals.
And every person is born with their own unique rhythm.
"Suuup, whoo."
He drew in a breath and exhaled. Focusing on that flow and its steady intervals.
Thump! Thump!
Calming his mind, he attuned himself to the pulsing beat resounding from deep within.
'Lung breaths. Heartbeats. Let's infuse the sword with the rhythm of heart and lungs.'
There was one perfect technique for this.
The first stance of the Heaven-Covering 108 Swords.
Wing Strike on Hanging Ice.
He swung his sword upward like the wings of a hawk smashing icicles dangling from the eaves as it soared.
Originally devised to deflect or parry an enemy's blade.
Yang-hui imagined the iron pegs filling the chamber as enemy swords.
'Wing Strike on Hanging Ice, eighth variation.'
A straightforward upward strike gained the subtlety of variation, arcing diagonally.
Thus deflecting a vertical downward enemy assault.
Ting-a-lang!
Even after drawing a clear ring from the iron peg, Yang-hui's sword didn't stop.
The trajectory of that single stroke continued to strike the next peg.
Ting-a-lang!
The ripples of sound from two pegs overlapped.
Ting-a-lang, ting-a-ra-lang!
Suuuup, whiiiii.
Thump! Thump!
Conscious of his heart and lungs' rhythm, he extended his sword toward the next peg.
Lightly,弹like plucking a string. In this moment, the sword was a string instrument, the peg a percussion key.
Ting-a-ra-lang, ting-a-ra-lang!
He no longer needed to consciously track his heart and lungs' rhythm.
The harmony of sound waves from the pegs had grown strong enough to vibrate through his entire body, beyond just his ears—and it perfectly matched Yang-hui's innate rhythm.
Ting-a-lang, ting-a-lang, ting-a-ra-lang, ting-a-lang!
Zhuge Seol-ha watched with mouth agape as Yang-hui performed his sword dance—a dance intertwined with sound.
One couldn't exactly call it profound mastery of rhythm.
The melody Yang-hui produced had intervals but no variation in pitch.
But.
Yang-hui's sword dance held a captivating beauty that left one entranced.
It had reached the realm of art.
Clang!
The iron door slid open in response to the resonating sound waves filling the cavern.
By then, Yang-hui halted his sword dance, standing still with eyes closed.
'Fun. The world of martial arts is truly deep and vast.'
Remembering his past life, he already possessed enlightenment enough to reach Super Peak.
To use a metaphor, he knew the path to the destination, so he could charge straight ahead without wandering.
Thus, until now, Yang-hui had focused on retracing the path of his previous life.
No need to seek detours when he knew the way.
But.
'That was a mistake.'
If martial arts were merely walking a path to a destination, he wouldn't be wrong.
Yet martial arts also involve stacking a tower.
Heart and lungs' rhythm.
Sword stance intervals.
Harmony of technique and body—beyond mere unity, into melodic fusion.
Yang-hui organized his newfound insight.
Shallow and low in depth and height, perhaps.
But a new material to build a grander, sturdier tower.
"Let's go, junior sister. The door might close."
"Ah, yes, got it."
Yang-hui slung his wooden sword over his shoulder and strode forward, with Zhuge Seol-ha following behind.
As they wound through the narrow passage, it suddenly widened several times over.
[Fourth Rite] Martial Hall Yang-hui read the inscription on the ceiling and spoke.
"Looks like this is the fourth gate."
"Martial Hall. Seems like it tests aptitude for martial arts."
The Holy Sound Jade Ling Sect pursued ascension to immortal realms through sound, but it was unmistakably a martial sect.
To become a direct disciple, martial aptitude couldn't be overlooked.
Only because it was the Holy Sound Jade Ling Sect was it tested fourth; in a typical martial sect, it would come first.
"Hm. No additional explanations. Well, I can guess the method from the setup."
A passage lined with dozens, hundreds of wooden puppets at random intervals.
A floor pieced together from thousands of square planks the size of a child's foot.
Judging by the unique structure, the answer was clear.
"They'll attack if we try passing straight through, right?"
"That's what I think too. Shall we give it a try?"
Yang-hui's gaze turned to Zhuge Seol-ha.
Is she telling me to test it with my body?
It's good that she's brightening up, but... why does she seem increasingly brazen?
"Hm. Seeing is believing, after all. Your senior brother will demonstrate first, so watch closely."
Circulating Harmonious Heaven Principle Origin Art, Yang-hui kicked off the ground and dashed forward at high speed.
It was when he stepped on the floor near the first wooden puppet.
Click, whoosh!
The mechanism beneath the floor activated with a whir. Simultaneously, the wooden puppet swung its arm at Yang-hui's head.
"Eek!"
Ducking his head, he charged on—only for the second puppet to sweep low.
As he leaped to evade, the third puppet's overhead strike followed!
Mid-air, no escape. He was about to smash the puppet with his wooden sword when.
'Hm? Wait.'
Instead of infusing qi into his wooden sword, Yang-hui crossed his arms to guard his head.
Crack!
The puppet's strike was so powerful it sent Yang-hui flying in a parabolic arc nearly three zhang, crashing at Zhuge Seol-ha's feet.
"Ugh, ow, that hurts."
Shaking out his arms as he stood, his eyes met Zhuge Seol-ha's gaze staring down impassively.
Her eyes seemed to ask: You stepped up so boldly, and got stopped at the third?
"......"
"......"
"No, I could block it. I took it on purpose."
"I didn't say anything."
"Your eyes did."
"Ah!"
Zhuge Seol-ha turned away briefly, touching her face, then looked back at Yang-hui.
"Sorry. I shouldn't do that to my benefactor. I've always lived veiled, so I've never learned to control my expressions..."
Saying it like that leaves me speechless.
"No need to force it. Honesty's better anyway."
"Really?"
Her eyes reverted to that look from before.
"......But don't give me that look again. I really took it on purpose."
"Why?"
"Felt like I shouldn't destroy them. Those puppets embody forms."
A realization from observing the puppets' attack patterns and sequence.
He'd thought they were placed at random intervals, but no.
"I only got to the third before retreating, but I'm sure. There's exactly one way to evade their chain attacks."
"Meaning......"
"Only by following one specific flow and movement can you pass the passage."
A single bodily motion that evades every attack in terms of speed, position, and direction.
In other words, a footwork technique.
"The Holy Sound Jade Ling Sect is renowned not just for sound arts, but for peerless footwork."
"So the Martial Hall is training to engrave that footwork form into the body."
"Exactly. The problem is......"
Yang-hui sighed, eyeing the puppets.
"Those bastards don't hold back their power."
Earlier, the third puppet's hit sent him flying three zhang.
Without internal energy protection, death wouldn't have been surprising.
"I might survive, but you couldn't learn by taking hits, Seol-ha."
Since her Peach Blossom Body flared up, Zhuge Seol-ha had postponed martial training.
Fear of worsening the heavenly curse from her constitution.
For her, even one puppet strike would shatter bones and burst blood—fatal.
"So I only get one chance."
"Yeah. If you mastered the footwork forms, you could dodge, but."
"......"
Zhuge Seol-ha's face darkened.
"There's a way. I smash all the puppets, you stroll through leisurely."
"......But Master didn't send you with me for that."
"Nope."
Yang-hui gazed at Zhuge Seol-ha's face for a moment.
She can't control expressions, huh—fear was plain as day.
'This is something I can't do for her.'
One key to learning martial arts is courage—guts.
This moment might be a pivotal turning point for Zhuge Seol-ha, future disciple of the Heavenly Martial Ten Lords and martial artist.
"I'll give you time to decide. I'm hungry anyway—let's eat here, sleep a day."
It had been quite some time since entering the Pure Sound Five Gates.
Subjectively, nearly ten hours—missing mealtimes and sleep long ago.
"But senior brother, did you bring food?"
"No. We've eaten at inns all this time."
Even offering sincerity on Mt. Gokyeol, he'd filled up on packed rice balls from inns.
No reason to carry rations.
"Then what do we eat? No food means starving, right?"
"If no food, make some."
Yang-hui backtracked the way they'd come.
Half an hour later, he returned clutching five or six field mice.
"Ta-da. Can't compare to inn fare, but your senior brother can provide meat every meal."
"W-We eat this......?"
Only then did Yang-hui realize from her shocked expression.
'Ah. Right, she's a prestigious clan daughter.'
Yang-hui had camped like eating in his past life as a wanderer, but Zhuge Seol-ha was a sheltered girl venturing out for the first time.
No way she'd eaten mouse meat.
"R-Really eating mice......?"
"Yeah. Nothing else. Starving saps strength. No strength, fail the hall."
"I-I'll eat......"
Yang-hui chuckled at her gritted-teeth resolve.
At least she doesn't whine she can't. Commendable.
"Wait a sec."
Normally, roast whole to burn fur and skin, eat moist meat inside.
But Yang-hui drew his dagger and swiftly butchered them.
"There. Easier to eat now, right?"
On his palm: no mice, just chunks of meat.
Relief bloomed on Zhuge Seol-ha's face.
"Yes! Thank you so much, senior brother."
"No big deal."
They kindled a small fire with twigs and leaves, grilled and ate.
"How's it? Mouse meat's decent, huh?"
"Yes. Quite the delicacy. Nom nom."
Zhuge Seol-ha ate heartily, smearing soot on her face.
She must've been starving, though she hadn't complained.
Of course a sheltered flower of a prestigious house never fasted overnight.
"Decided, junior sister?"
Her mouth blackened, she set a resolute expression.
"Yes. One chance—I'll make it count spectacularly."
"Food and water? Plentiful. Time's on our side. I'll demonstrate as many times as needed; just memorize perfectly."
"Yes. Always grateful, senior brother."
Grinning, she tugged and shook the end of Yang-hui's sleeve lightly.
Her way of showing thanks, apparently.
"But senior brother, if it takes too long, Father might worry."
"Dunno. They probably expect longer outside."
The first gate alone took at least a week minimally.
They'd forced a side path, passing in half a day.
"First time apart from Father this long. Miss Mother too...... Don't you miss your clan, senior brother?"
"Eh."
Fine for a child like Zhuge Seol-ha, but Yang-hui—adult inside a child's shell—felt little.
"Well, a bit curious."
"About what?"
"Y'know."
After the Black Path Warlord business, Baek Clan Manor's household had multiplied several-fold, work accordingly.
Yang-hui pictured the busy clansmen now... especially Gu-ak.
Then grinned.
'Brother Gu. I trust you're holding up!'
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Gu-ak vowed.
If he dismissed the young master's words again—seeing him as mere child, or rather the clan head's daughter playing—he'd swear on his hand.
'What? Come to Baek Clan Manor, spend happy times with Rang-rang? Live doing work she won't be ashamed of?'
Right, not wrong...... or so it seemed.
Gu-ak eyed the stack of documents on his desk and the steward who'd brought them.
"Gangsaeng Branch Head. Today's workload."
"......"
The routine of recent days. Gu-ak just sighed.
True, he'd been given unashamed work.
Definitely true...... but too much.
"Too much. As you know, this Gu has lived far from letters and ledgers. Please—"
The steward cut off Gu-ak's desperate plea.
"I know. Too much for this old man alone, and you're the only fit besides."
"......"
"Ah, after documents, handle the external tasks the clan head did. Don't forget—that's actually more important. You know why."
Seeing the dignified middle-aged man curl index and thumb into a circle like a black path brute, Gu-ak screamed inwardly.
'Baek Yang-hui! I'll repay this grudge somedayyyy!'
In Gu-ak's mind surfaced a conversation between Baek Mu-ryang and Yang-hui a few days before entering seclusion.