Chapter 50: I Have Learned Well

There was a good twenty jang between the center of the training ground and the raised platform. Still, Jong Ri Un could cross that distance to the platform.

But it was best if there was no need to do so. Jong Ri Un hoped nothing would happen as he shouted.

“Begin!”

At his signal, a loud sound rang out. Gap Yu-wol’s dance-like footwork was as swift as lightning. With nimble footwork, the Geomjon’s Simpoong Sword Technique unfolded.

A sword slash swept toward both of Gold-necked Hwan’s shoulders. The movement was so fast that both afterimages were equally clear—no one could tell which was real.

To the Murim Alliance warriors watching, it seemed Gold-necked Hwan stood perfectly still, making no move, even as the two sword slashes closed in on his shoulders.

“Ah!”

Though it was a wooden sword, the moment it held qi, the air grew as sharp as with real steel. The Murim Alliance warriors were certain Gold-necked Hwan would be struck without a chance to resist.

Crash!

“Kuh!”

But with an explosive sound, the one who was sent stumbling backward was unexpectedly Gal Yu-wol. Before anyone realized, Gold-necked Hwan’s wooden sword was held horizontally, three cun above his collarbone.

Gold-necked Hwan’s wooden sword remained steady, while Gal Yu-wol’s wooden sword quivered in her hand, her wrist trembling violently. Not even a trace of blue qi shimmered on Gold-necked Hwan’s sword.

“…Ihwa Jeopmok?”

An Elder standing beside the platform muttered to himself.

A technique that uses the opponent’s strength, returning it directly at them. It was rare and unexpected to see such a high-level technique in a duel between children.

Such a move could only be executed by someone who treated their qi as an extension of their body. It required years of experience with qi—most martial artists could only perform it after reaching their peak.

Yet here, a twelve-year-old child had executed a technique for experts at the pinnacle.

“I didn’t expect her to be at this level.”

Gang Un, standing beside him, muttered in awe. Mok Hyeonhak nodded quietly. But none were more surprised than Jong Ri Un.

Before they could express their shock, Gold-necked Hwan charged forward. Gal Yu-wol, still reeling from the rebound of her own internal force, retreated further.

She was flustered. It was one thing to lose to adults, but to be overwhelmed by a peer was unimaginable.

But Gal Yu-wol refused to lose. Her Master was watching. Forcing herself to stop retreating, she endured the rough circulation of qi, even as her bones creaked. What mattered most now was victory.

Gal Yu-wol saw it clearly. Though hard to believe, Gold-necked Hwan was stronger than she was. Just a single exchange revealed the gap.

Planting her heel firmly, Gal Yu-wol executed the third form of Simpoong Sword Technique—Shinpoong Chwiseong.

A martial technique capable of devastating everything three jang ahead. Yet in truth, Gal Yu-wol had not fully mastered this art.

But such things didn’t matter to her at this moment.

As she gathered all her true qi and released Shinpoong Chwiseong, Gal Yu-wol’s eyes widened in disbelief. Gold-necked Hwan had vanished from sight the moment he stepped forward with his right foot, his movement dissolving like mist.

Rumble…

The explosive roar and the momentum of Shinpoong Chwiseong surged forward, but the sound cut off abruptly.

Gold-necked Hwan, from above, had spread his qi horizontally, blanketing the ground. This was the fifth form of the Namhae Shipi Geomsa Chosik—Suyeonmanbeom. The overwhelming pressure from above instantly neutralized Shinpoong Chwiseong.

It wasn’t simply a contest of qi. It was pure skill in manipulating internal energy. With minimal qi, he exploited the weak points in the opponent’s force, nullifying it completely.

Then, using the momentum from above, Gold-necked Hwan struck directly at Gal Yu-wol’s front. What he used against her was nothing more than the most basic form of Samjae Sword Art—Taesan Apjeong.

Gal Yu-wol instinctively raised her sword overhead to block, but in that instant, Gold-necked Hwan’s movement once again became ghostly and elusive.

Before she realized it, Gold-necked Hwan stood behind her, the wooden sword pressed lightly to her neck.

The match was decided.

***

Silence lingered in the Murim Alliance Leader’s Chamber. Jong Ri Moon, Gang Un, and Mok Hyeonhak were present, but none spoke.

It was Gang Un who finally broke the long silence.

“I never thought Yu-wol would lose.”

“Is it even possible for someone so young to have such a grasp of martial arts?”

Gang Un and Mok Hyeonhak recalled Gold-necked Hwan’s every move. Who was Gal Yu-wol, after all?

She had inherited the Geomjon’s secret martial art, Simpoong Sword Technique, and learned from various Elders whenever possible. She absorbed everything taught to her thanks to her Osung as well. In short, she was the Murim Alliance’s prized future talent.

Yet, she’d been utterly defeated by a boy from the marketplace. It clearly wasn’t witchcraft. Both the subtlety of Ihwa Jeopmok and the purity of his internal force were hallmarks of orthodox martial arts.

“Where is Yu-wol now?”

“She went to her room. It seems she took it quite hard.”

Jong Ri Moon answered. Mok Hyeonhak, Gang Un, and Jong Ri Un were peers, so in private they spoke freely.

“If someone had such talent, word would have spread across Jungwon. Could someone really be taught like that in secret?”

“And he seemed experienced in real combat. Didn’t you see during the duel? His expression was completely cold.”

Jong Ri Moon recalled the innocent face Gold-necked Hwan had shown him before the match. When it was time to fight, he suddenly donned a cold mask and feigned innocence.

Could it all have been an act? Had the Geomjon, one of the Chiljon, been played by a twelve-year-old? He hoped not, for that would be the end of his pride.

“Whose Disciple is he, exactly?”

More than anything, that was the question on all their minds. The first that came to mind was the Samsun—those supreme masters who wandered Jungwon like drifting duckweed. Otherwise, such accomplishments were hard to explain.

But there was something even less convincing. They had to go beyond mere speculation.

“Elder Mok, that was Biyeon-gak’s movement technique, wasn’t it?”

Gang Un and Mok Hyeonhak fell silent. It was an unanswerable question. The Biyun Gakju was no fool—why would he have taught it?

Besides, Gold-necked Hwan’s Bangchuk Gwimae Sinbeop felt subtly different.

“Yes. While it’s a bit different from how I refined it, the essence is the same.”

Even with three supreme masters present, Gold-necked Hwan’s martial arts and aura defied explanation.

They had remained as composed as possible at the training ground, hiding their astonishment.

“Was his martial art leaked, or is it just a similar technique?”

“The odds of that are like being struck by lightning twice.”

A martial art was like the sum of countless possible combinations of muscle and meridian movement. Even with different names, techniques almost never turned out the same.

“There’s an easy way to find out. We just ask the Gongja.”

Gang Un said. As he mentioned, it was indeed a simple way. Mok Hyeonhak responded.

“Then I should be the one to ask.”

All agreed. Mok Hyeonhak was an expert in movement techniques. They couldn’t just summon a child right after a match to interrogate him, so they decided to do it later.

Jong Ri Moon, Mok Hyeonhak, and Gang Un all stood at once.

Their brief meeting concluded with one agreement.

“A talent capable of shaking the Gangho has emerged.”

***

“True talent.”

No matter how much I let my qi flow, my arm still tingled. Gal Yu-wol was, in my view, genuine talent. Wasn’t Ong Mungyu considered one of the top talents in Hyeongsan and Jungwon? That was laughable. Even ten Ong Mungyus together wouldn’t be able to defeat Gal Yu-wol.

I only managed to win because I could clearly read the flow of qi before the match and deflect it. Otherwise, I would’ve been swept up in that surging force as well.

“I still have a long way to go.”

I opened and closed my right fist repeatedly. It wasn’t enough. To feel this way against someone who was only eleven.

When someone truly talented like Gal Yu-wol also had the advantage of time, how was I supposed to contend with the true masters?

Take Peach Blossom Hua from Cheonjuseong, for example. If he wanted to, he could crush me like an ant. He simply hadn’t done so yet.

There were far too many opponents I’d have to face. Some were as strong as Peach Blossom Hua, some even stronger. Of course, I didn’t have to cross swords with them directly, but that was the surest way. Relying on someone else to guard my life was something I’d only do once.

“I need to think things through carefully.”

My second brother would become Gaju, and I would go into hiding—eight years from now, when I reached Yakgwan. That was when, by custom, they dressed me in mourning robes and cut off my hands and feet.

I organized what happened to me and what I knew about Jungwon’s events with a piece of paper.

There were more crooked incidents in Jungwon than I had thought. As soon as one trouble ended, another would pop up. Among them, there had to be incidents I could use.

While I was pondering, someone knocked on the door.

I folded the paper and tucked it into my robe before opening the door. The moment I saw him, I bowed.

“You’ve come.”

“So you expected me.”

The man in black martial attire was Elder Mok Hyeonhak. His small, sharp eyes gave a fierce impression.

“I did use the Elder’s martial art, after all.”

“It’s not my martial art. It’s something I created for Biyeongakju Yeo Sangwoo.”

“I see.”

“How did you learn it?”

Mok Hyeonhak got straight to the point. His voice was perfectly flat, neither rising nor falling. Maybe that was why—it didn’t sound like a question or a threat.

I answered honestly. I’d already thought through this and prepared my response.

“I watched and copied it.”

Even Mok Hyeonhak, whose expression never changed, blinked in surprise at that.

“Do you really believe that’s possible? Copying a martial art is not the same as imitating a movement. You must comprehend the circulation and subtlety of internal energy. Are you claiming to be a grandmaster like Jang Sam-bong or Dharma?”

“I’m just telling the truth.”

At that moment, Mok Hyeonhak’s concealed sleeve fluttered. In his hand appeared a short dagger, and he thrust it toward my heart. I couldn’t avoid it, and for a moment it felt like my whole body was being pierced.

“…Hoo.”

I let out a breath I’d been holding. Mok Hyeonhak’s sleeve had already covered his hand again, and seeing all five fingers at the end, it was as if he’d never held a dagger.

“What I just used was Am Pyo Gyeol’s Talmyung Pyo Pung. If you’re telling the truth, you should be able to copy this too.”

Mok Hyeonhak was serious. I paused briefly. After all, he was a supreme master—his speed made his movements almost invisible. I needed a moment to think about how to direct my internal energy.

“So you were lying, after all?”

Mok Hyeonhak sounded disappointed. It was the most blunt he’d ever been. I answered,

“No.”

I grabbed my right rib with my left hand and extended my right hand.

“Please give me the dagger.”

Mok Hyeonhak’s expression returned to how it had been at first. He turned his sleeve inside out. Rows of shining daggers of various sizes lined the inside. He selected one and handed it to me.

The moment I grasped it, I demonstrated before Mok Hyeonhak’s heart. Talmyung Pyo Pung. Though it looked like a single thrust, it contained countless changes, creating an optical illusion. To reproduce those changes, my entire body had to be relaxed, my muscles fluttering like a banner in the wind.

Once you understood the subtlety, your arm moved on its own. When the qi I’d observed flowed properly through the meridians, the dagger’s motion transformed unpredictably.

Was this really Talmyung Pyo Pung? Compared to Mok Hyeonhak’s, my variation was few and slow. Still, I drew the dagger back. If I tried to add more changes, my muscles would certainly be injured. Even channeling qi into the meridians could only support so much.

I finished the movement and returned the dagger.

“I’m not sure if I performed it correctly.”

Mok Hyeonhak did not take the dagger at first. His small pupils trembled—an enormous shock. Yet he eventually accepted the dagger and tucked it back into his sleeve.

“…I see. Now I know you weren’t lying. In that case, that is your martial art now.”

Mok Hyeonhak tried to sound as composed as possible, but his voice trembled. Evidently, my instant reproduction of Talmyung Pyo Pung had shaken him.

He turned his back to leave. As he took a step, I called out,

“Talmyung Pyo Pung—thank you for teaching me.”

Mok Hyeonhak stood silently, unable to reply. With his back to me, I couldn’t see his expression, but soon, he answered.

“Rest today. Tomorrow morning, come to the Murim Alliance Leader’s Chamber. I hear the Maengju has something to give you.”

With those words, Mok Hyeonhak strode off briskly. The resolute set of his broad shoulders made it clear there was no more to be said.

I had nothing left to add, anyway. I had only meant to demonstrate, but he had gifted me a martial art. If anything, I should be the one to thank him.

Now, Mok Hyeonhak would surely report to the Murim Alliance Leader that I was a genius. That had been the purpose of my demonstration. If I wanted more active support from the Murim Alliance, I needed to raise my value. I wondered how much higher it would be tomorrow. With that thought, I closed the door.