Chapter 162 :

<The Black Flame Dragon Who Quells the Chaos (7)>

"You're kicking off your blankets again."

After covering his younger sisters once more, Kang Yuseong quietly left the room.

Darkness settled over the yard, and the chirping of insects in the distance told him it was deep into the night.

Ignoring it, Kang Yuseong walked slowly toward the small training ground.

It was part of his daily routine.

A habit he had never skipped, not even once.

'Eldest Senior Brother said he can already draw out six swords of the Myriad Swords.'

Compared with the level his senior brother had reached, as Kang Yuseong had heard in a letter, he could barely create two swords.

Since they had begun studying the Taeul True Scripture at nearly the same time, he couldn't help feeling impatient.

'Am I doing this right?'

But when he thought of the days when he had cared for his sisters all alone, with nowhere to turn, he let out a deep sigh of relief.

What would have happened if he hadn't met Eldest Senior Brother that day?

What if Eldest Senior Brother hadn't invited him to the Taeul Sect?

Thanks to him, he and his sisters now had a comfortable, cozy place to live and three proper meals a day.

He was even learning the martial arts he had dreamed of mastering.

To Kang Yuseong, Jin Sowoon, Eldest Senior Brother, and the Taeul Sect were just like the embrace of his parents.

'I have to repay them someday.'

Rubbing his sleepy eyes, Kang Yuseong hurried toward the small training ground.

"Hah!"

Clatter, clatter.

A clear shout rang out, followed by the clinking sound of metal.

Something like small iron pieces had sunk sharply into the straw dummy standing in the training ground.

The figure in the center moved, her fluttering martial uniform creating afterimages.

More pieces of iron flew from her concealed hand, each imbued with the subtle principles of illusion, making them look like dozens or even hundreds.

Clatter, clatter, clatter.

The straw dummy, pelted with the iron pieces, finally gave way and toppled over with a crack.

'Senior Sister Wang?'

Only then did Kang Yuseong recognize who was there.

He quietly started to leave the training ground.

Since coming to the Taeul Sect, he had learned that it was considered very rude among martial artists to peek at one another while they trained.

Just as he turned away to look for another place—

"Junior Brother Kang?"

Wang Soso, catching her breath, called out to him.

"Did you come to train?"

"Yes, Senior Sister. I can use another place, so please keep training here."

"Really? Since we're both here, why don't we train together?"

"Pardon?"

"What? Are we at completely different levels?"

"No, that's not what I meant..."

"Then come over here."

When Kang Yuseong approached, Wang Soso patted him on the head.

In front of his younger sisters, Kang Yuseong was a dependable adult.

But around Wang Soso, he turned into her little brother.

"You're working hard, Junior Brother."

"...Ahem. But what brings you here so late, Senior Sister?"

"When I go home, Father won't let me practice. He says I'm tired and should go to bed early. But not training is even harder."

"..."

Kang Yuseong looked at Wang Soso in amazement.

"Senior Sister... May I ask you something?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"I heard your father supports the Taeul Sect a lot, and that you plan to become a merchant someday... Why do you work so hard at training?"

Wang Soso tilted her head.

"What does supporting the sect and becoming a merchant have to do with working hard?"

"Huh? Ah... Well, you see..."

Kang Yuseong realized he might have said something wrong, and his words began to falter.

Wang Soso's gaze grew a little stern.

"Does someone who supports the sect and plans to become a merchant have no reason to work hard? Did I do something wrong?"

"...No! That's not what I meant!"

As Kang Yuseong stood there flustered and unsure what to do, Wang Soso burst out laughing.

"You swing a sword like a ghost, but you're so timid. What good is that?"

"...That's harsh, Senior Sister."

"So what are you really curious about?"

Kang Yuseong hesitated for a moment, then looked Wang Soso straight in the eye.

"I mean... I've received so much from the Taeul Sect, but I don't know how to repay it. That's why I train hard, at least. But I wondered why you train so hard when you already give so much to the Taeul Sect."

At Kang Yuseong's heartfelt answer, Wang Soso smiled softly.

"Oh! So that's what's been bothering you. Hmm... I guess I like the Taeul Sect?"

"You like the Taeul Sect?"

"Well, to be precise, it's because I've received so much from Brother Jin. Either way, I figure there'll be a day when I can repay him."

Kang Yuseong looked puzzled.

To him, Eldest Senior Brother seemed so powerful that he would never need anyone's help.

"...Isn't Eldest Senior Brother already incredibly strong? I wonder if we could really be of any help to him..."

"He certainly is amazing... Actually, he's absurdly strong. I've met martial artists from time to time through my work as a merchant, and I don't think many people his age could compare with Brother Jin."

Wang Soso puffed out her chest as if she were bragging about him herself.

"Still, there'll be a time when he needs help."

"When?"

"How would I know? Anyway, even if that never happens, us getting stronger will help Brother Jin a lot. At the very least, we won't get in his way, right?"

Get in his way?

That had never even occurred to Kang Yuseong before.

"...We could get in his way?"

"Of course. Special people like Brother Jin tend to make a lot of enemies. Some of them can't do anything to him, so they go after his sect or family instead."

"My goodness! How could anyone be so despicable?"

"Exactly. So we have to work hard to make sure we don't hold Brother Jin back. That way, he can accomplish what he wants."

Wang Soso had been patting Yuseong's head as if he were her little brother.

Now she patted his shoulder, as if knocking on a sturdy tree.

"And if the Taeul Sect grows stronger, no one will dare treat Brother Jin carelessly."

"So us getting stronger would be a huge help to Eldest Senior Brother."

"That's right!"

Kang Yuseong looked relieved, as though a worry he had carried for a long time had finally been resolved.

"I'll work even harder."

"Hmm... I think you're doing well enough already. But working hard is a good thing."

"Yes! By the way, what kind of training were you doing, Senior Sister?"

"Me? I was practicing throwing techniques."

"Throwing techniques?"

Yuseong tilted his head.

"Yeah. Swords are nice too, but I think throwing techniques are more fun."

"Then may I help you?"

"Would you?"

"Yes! I was training in the Myriad Swords, too. I'll go get some concealed weapons."

"Thanks. I'll catch my breath for a bit."

While Wang Soso picked up the canteen she had set beside her and drank, Kang Yuseong approached the straw dummy.

'Hmm?'

As he started pulling the concealed weapons from the dummy, Kang Yuseong noticed their strange shape.

He tilted his head, then looked at Wang Soso.

"...Senior Sister, have you been training with these this whole time?"

"Hm? Oh! I wanted to use throwing knives, but Father said they were dangerous and wouldn't let me."

"..."

"I looked for something suitable... and we happened to have a lot of these at home."

Kang Yuseong looked again at the weapons embedded in the dummy.

"..."

They were round, with square holes in the middle, made so that string could be threaded through them easily.

But most people didn't carry these around with string threaded through them.

Because they might be stolen, people usually kept them in a small pouch, tucked deep inside their robes.

In other words, what Wang Soso had been flinging around was—

"...You're using silver nyang as concealed weapons?"

"Yeah. Now stop asking questions and hurry up!"

"..."

Kang Yuseong found himself wondering:

If one of these weapons pierced his flesh, would it become his?

And if so, how many times could he take a hit before he couldn't take it anymore?

"Ugh."

After spitting out a mouthful of blood, the pressure in my chest eased.

"Haa... haa... haa..."

As I panted, my mind began to clear.

'What on earth went wrong?'

I had followed the Sword Demon Baek Haegwang's movements exactly.

My shredded muscles had changed to some extent to resemble his, and after enduring the pain of my bones grinding against each other, they had changed enough for me to perform the Three Forms of the White Moon that Subdues Heaven.

The formula and the key principles were perfect, too.

But whenever I tried to perform the Three Forms of the White Moon that Subdues Heaven, the circulation of my internal energy kept breaking off, and it felt as if my organs were turning upside down.

I had copied everything perfectly, yet I couldn't even perform the first form of the Three Forms of the White Moon that Subdues Heaven.

"My goodness... Young Master Jin."

I turned my dazed head and saw Namgung Seonhwa's pale face.

"What on earth happened to you?"

"...Nothing happened."

"Then what's all this blood?"

"..."

Only then did I look around.

There was blood all around me, the stuff I had spat out.

It looked as if I'd just fought a duel to the death.

"I was training, but something seems to have gone wrong."

"This is training?"

Namgung Seonhwa looked around in disbelief, then handed me the canteen she was holding.

I drank nearly half of the water in one go.

"Haa... haa... haa..."

"..."

What on earth had gone wrong?

As the sparring match drew nearer, desperation churned inside me.

"...Young Master Jin! Young Master Jin!"

"Hm?"

I turned in surprise.

Namgung Seonhwa was looking at me with deep concern.

"What exactly are you stuck on?"

"What am I stuck on?"

"Yes. Isn't all that you've spat out blood?"

"It is."

"Your internal energy isn't circulating properly. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you could suffer qi deviation."

"..."

It was true that my internal energy wasn't circulating properly.

More precisely, it was running wild however it pleased, and I couldn't control it.

If the power of the Nine-Leaf Divine Herb hadn't strengthened my blood vessels and dantian, I would have suffered qi deviation ten times over by now.

'Did the Sword Demon give me the wrong formula?'

I shook the thought away.

He had been the one to hand it to me in the first place. If he had wanted to kill me, he could have done so with his own hands.

The formula was perfect, the movements were perfect, and my level of practice was perfect.

So why couldn't I properly perform the sword form?

"Lady Seonhwa."

"Did you learn the Imperial Sword Art from the Divine Sword?"

"Yes."

"Could you tell me how far you've progressed?"

Namgung Seonhwa's expression stiffened.

Asking a martial artist about their level was considered rude.

I continued.

"I mean, what level are you compared with the Divine Sword?"

"...Compared with my grandfather?"

Namgung Seonhwa relaxed her expression, rested her chin on her fingers, and thought for a moment.

"Like a bird's foot compared to a mountain?"

"...Is that a figurative expression or a literal one?"

"Both, I suppose."

"Is it because of the difference in internal energy?"

"...No. As you know, to learn the Imperial Sword Art, you have to learn the Thunderclap Emperor Divine Art. Once you reach a certain level, there's no great difficulty in performing the Imperial Sword Art."

That matched what I had thought.

Even if the Sword Demon Baek Haegwang's internal energy was extraordinary, I had enough internal energy now to perform the Three Forms of the White Moon that Subdues Heaven without much difficulty.

"Then where does the difference in your level of mastery come from?"

"...Probably time."

"Do you mean the time spent practicing?"

"That too, but..."

"Then if you could perform the same movements and take the same stances as the Divine Sword, would you reach his level of mastery?"

In my case, I had matched the formula, the internal energy, and even the time needed to practice.

It was stranger that the sword form wouldn't manifest.

Namgung Seonhwa tilted her head, and her expression slowly grew tense.

"What are you planning?"

Worried I might make her anxious, I gave her a vague answer.

"I was just curious. Our sect doesn't have a supreme expert like the Divine Sword. I wondered why there would be a difference in mastery even if someone learned the same things from a master like him."

Even after I explained, Namgung Seonhwa didn't seem to believe me at all.

"You suddenly got curious about this in the middle of such a dangerous situation?"

Namgung Seonhwa looked at the blood soaking the ground and seemed dumbfounded.

I answered without a shred of shame.

"Should a martial artist's training depend on the time and place?"

Namgung Seonhwa glared at me, then sighed softly.

"...I don't trust you, but I'll tell you anyway. Something a little similar happened in our family. One of my uncles followed my grandfather around every day, trying to copy not only his sword forms but also his movements and habits."

Oh, so someone in the Namgung Family had thought of the same thing as me.

For some reason, I felt a sense of kinship with him.

"How far did he progress? Was he anything like the Divine Sword?"

"Not at all."

Huh?

"He made no progress at all. In fact, he progressed less than people who had started at the same age."

"...Why?"

"Later, my grandfather said that if you have no insights of your own and only imitate someone else, you'll end up feeling awkward, like you're wearing clothes that don't fit."

"He said that each person has to build their own emptiness through their own efforts. If a hundred people learn the same martial art, it becomes a hundred different martial arts."

"...!"

The images in my mind grew vivid.

The Sword Demon performing the Three Forms of the White Moon that Subdues Heaven.

And me performing the Three Forms of the White Moon that Subdues Heaven.

Though we swung the same sword, the subtle principles it held were completely different.

When I overlaid the two images, they didn't quite line up, even though we were making the same movements.

In the end, no matter how exactly I copied the Sword Demon's sword, I couldn't gain power on the same level as his.

"Still, Grandfather said it wasn't a bad method. He said it was a way to absorb and make your own, in the shortest possible time, the mastery someone at a higher level had built over many years. Though he personally hated having people cling to him."

"How did your uncle turn out?"

"He's now serving as a deputy pavilion master in the Enforcement Pavilion."

"You mean the Azure Dragon Jade Sword, Great Hero Namgung Seonmyeong, did that in the past?"

Even in my previous life, the Azure Dragon Jade Sword, Namgung Seonmyeong, had enforced the alliance's laws and regulations according to the law, without regard for a person's background.

His family wielded considerable influence, and his own martial prowess was so formidable that he ranked among the Top Hundred Experts Under Heaven.

No one dared to put pressure on the Azure Dragon Jade Sword.

"Yes."

"..."

So copying someone exactly wasn't wrong.

It was just that, until now, I had pursued the Sword Demon's insights instead of my own.

The important thing was that, beyond copying the movements, I needed to find my own insight within them.

Before the thought that had flashed through my mind could vanish, I hurriedly sat cross-legged.

"Lady Seonhwa, no matter what happens to me, please don't wake me."

"...What on earth are you—"

I closed my eyes before I could hear Namgung Seonhwa's answer.

I began to conjure the Sword Demon, holding a branch in his hand, inside my mind.

One... eight... fourteen... thirty.

At the same time, I conjured myself holding the Blood Dragon Sword.

Thirty Sword Demons and thirty images of me began performing the Three Forms of the White Moon that Subdues Heaven simultaneously.

Even as I concentrated on emptiness, I felt heat rising in my head.

I quickly sent my internal energy to my upper dantian to calm myself and cool my head, which had grown so hot it felt as if steam might rise from it at any moment.

Each time the thirty images performed a form, heat began to rise not just in my head, but throughout my entire body.

Soon, a strong metallic smell filled both nostrils, and I felt liquid trickling down.

The Sword Demon's sword forms were identical across all thirty images.

Even if they began differently, they made the same movements and ended at the same time.

But my images were all different.

They began together and ended differently.

I took one image of the Sword Demon and one of myself and began a sparring match.

The third form.

My image disappeared after just three moves.

Cough.

Before I knew it, blood welled up in my mouth.

—Young Master Jin...!

I could hear Namgung Seonhwa's voice, but I ignored it and continued the sparring match.

The second match.

Defeat.

The fourth match.

Defeat.

The seventh match.

Defeat.

The thirteenth match.

Defeat.

Whenever one of my images lost, the next one received its memories and responded differently.

The Sword Demon's image remained exactly as he had been when we met at the Grand Library.

I vividly recalled everything he had said over the past month.

—The essence of the first form is extreme speed. To be the fastest, you must carry nothing.

The eighteenth match.

Defeat.

The twenty-first match...

Defeat.

The twenty-ninth match...

Defeat.

The thirtieth match.

Defeat.

My mind suddenly cleared, and something large rose from my churning stomach.

"Ugh!"

My black martial uniform was stained with blood.

"Young Master Jin! Stop! You'll die if you keep going!"

I reached out toward Namgung Seonhwa.

"Please... stand guard for me."

Then thirty Sword Demons and thirty versions of me clashed again.

The thirty-fourth match.

Defeat.

The thirty-ninth match...

Defeat.

The forty-sixth match.

Defeat.

—You must be in the lightest possible state to be the fastest. A speed nothing can catch cannot be stopped by anything.

The fifty-first match.

A draw.

The fifty-fourth match.

A draw.

—An unfinished sword is no more than a sandcastle that could collapse at any moment. Break it before it is complete, while it is at its lightest and fastest.

The fifty-sixth match.

...A draw.

The fifty-ninth match...

The sixtieth match.

My entire body trembled, and my eyes flew open.

The severe shock gripping my whole body paralyzed my muscles and bones, and they began twisting out of control.

Crack, crack. Snap, snap.

A nauseating sensation, knotted deep inside me, surged upward and quickly climbed my throat.

"...Uweegh!"

I vomited blood and foam, like someone who had drunk far more alcohol than they could handle.

"Young Master Jin!"

Namgung Seonhwa's distant voice reached me.

And then, as my consciousness drifted away, I finally let go of it.