“…Senior brother, what are you doing?”
Right now, I was looking at Geumpyo, whose death I remembered vividly from my past life.
“Geumpyo…”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh?”
Geumpyo hurriedly rummaged through her clothes and pulled out a small pouch.
“Don’t tell me… you ate my candy?”
“…”
What the hell was I thinking, living like that in my past life?
“…Anyway, I’m sorry.”
“The candy’s all here, though… What the heck?”
After apologizing to Geumpyo, whom I failed to protect in my previous life, and easing a bit of guilt, I asked her,
“Isn’t it class time right now? Why are you here instead?”
Geumpyo gave me an suspicious look.
“If you know that, why are you lying on a bench?”
“I’ve got a bit of a headache.”
“That’s been your excuse for a week now.”
“Has it already been that long?”
But I had my own reasons.
From this moment on, I needed to think through the disasters that would befall us in the future, and figure out when and how Taeulmun had started to go wrong.
“I’ve been busy, in my own way…”
“…You don’t sound the least bit convincing.”
“It’s true. I’ve been worrying about the future of our sect.”
My sect, Taeulmun, was a small sword sect near Hefei in Anhui Province.
It had a long history but no traditions, a variety of martial arts but little actual strength.
So when parents of disciples compared us to the larger martial academies, most of them chose the academies instead.
If we had any advantages at all, it would be that we provided one meal a day, and that we held one of the seats among the ‘One Hundred and Eight Peaks’ of the Murim Alliance.
How we even managed to become one of the 108 Peaks is the real mystery.
Our sect had neither strength nor wealth. We never once bribed any of the higher-ups in the alliance, yet we never lost our place among the Peaks.
Holding a seat in the ‘108 Peaks’ grants a sect some protection from territory disputes and armed conflicts with other sects.
No matter what the justification, when sect wars break out, the Murim Alliance sides with the ‘108 Peaks.’ That was their rule.
Thanks to that, Taeulmun had a degree of freedom in the wild, chaotic struggles between sects in Hefei.
But that very title of being among the ‘108 Peaks’ was also what eventually led to our destruction, so I couldn’t say it was a good thing either.
How was I supposed to navigate this contradiction—
“…Senior brother!”
“…Hm?”
“Taeulmun is just fine, so stop worrying and get up already!”
“…How could a mere crow grasp the grand thoughts of a stork?”
“The head of Busaeng Hall is asking for you.”
“That guy? Why?”
“…Still, calling the Hall Leader that guy is a bit…”
The current head of Busaeng Hall wasn’t someone from Taeulmun.
To be exact, he was from the Gyeryong Trading Group, the younger brother of its head. His only bragging right was that he had once been an outer disciple of Mount Hua.
So why was a guy like that leading one of our halls?
Because the head of the trading group, worried that his precious son—who had joined Taeulmun as an outer disciple—might learn some “dangerous” martial arts so he had sent his brother to keep watch.
This nonsensical arrangement came about thanks to one of the privileges of being among the ‘108 Peaks’: the special admissions quota for the Murim Academy.
The first step toward success in the Murim Alliance was admission into the Murim Academy.
But standard admission was extremely difficult.
So the pampered young master of Gyeryong Trading Group joined our third-rate sect as an outer disciple just to get in via the special route granted to the Peaks.
And our penniless Taeulmun complied with most of their demands in order to receive support from the trading group.
“What else would I call a guy like that, if not that guy?”
Geumpyo giggled as if thoroughly satisfied.
“Anyway, he says you have to attend today.”
“Hmm… was there a sparring match planned?”
“…That seems to be the atmosphere.”
Geumpyo’s face turned dark.
Sparring—legalized violence under a polite name.
Right now, sparring class was the most hated class among Taeulmun’s disciples.
“Tsk. And all that guy from Mount Hua could think to do was this?”
I slowly rose to my feet.
They weren’t faces I wanted to see, but I couldn’t just sit back while my junior disciples were getting beaten.
Crack!
“Ugh!”
As soon as I stepped into Busaeng Hall, I saw one of our sect’s disciples clutching his head and rolling on the ground.
Saryeon rushed over, checked his injuries, and glared daggers at Gye Cheolyeong.
Whatever she meant by it, Gye Cheolyeong completely misread the look and grinned proudly.
“What do you think? Cool, huh?”
That idiot… tsk.
I approached the kid Saryeon was helping.
“Let me take a look.”
Thankfully, there was no serious injury.
Head wounds are scary if they bleed, but there’s no way someone like Gye Cheolyeong could hit hard enough to be dangerous.
“When you get home, put a cold stone on it. It’ll help reduce the swelling.”
“O-okay…”
The boy wiped the tears from his eyes and returned to his seat bravely.
“What? Didn’t you say you had a headache? Are you feeling better now?”
I shook my head at Saryeon’s question.
“No, my head’s even more of a mess now, that’s why I came out.”
“…What?”
Ignoring her puzzled look, I turned to Gye Yeonseung, the head of Busaeng Hall.
“How about ending the sparring session here?”
“What?”
“Looks like a fair number of the disciples have already gotten hurt.”
More than half of the students sitting around were clutching their heads, shoulders, or arms.
Every one of them had been assaulted in the name of sparring.
“Jin Sowoon, you show up late and now spout nonsense?”
“Let’s be honest. This whole thing is just a way for Gye Cheolyeong to show off, isn’t it?”
“What did you say?!”
I looked at Gye Cheolyeong standing smugly next to Gye Yeonseung.
“And as for you, senior Gye. I don’t care how blind Saryeon might be—do you seriously think someone like you has a chance with her? Dream on.”
“Jin Sowoon, you bastard!”
His face turned red, and he looked ready to lunge at me.
But Gye Yeonseung raised his hand to stop him.
“You mean to tell me that’s all you see in this sparring?”
His eyes burned with anger, but I continued unbothered.
“Honestly, what are you teaching in Busaeng Hall these days? All they ever do is endurance training and sparring.”
“That’s all part of preparing for real combat—”
“If that’s all there is, they’d be better off practicing forms on their own.”
“You—!”
Gye Yeonseung’s face turned beet red, as if it might explode.
“You dare say something like that in front of a disciple of the Mount Hua Sect?!”
“Aren’t you just an outer disciple though? Same as you, Senior Gye—learned the sword by paying for it.”
I only stated the truth, but somehow, Gye Yeonseung looked even angrier.
This must be why they say even truth can be a form of violence.
“You—! You little brat!”
A killing intent began to seep from Gye Yeonseung’s body.
Not just Saryeon and the other disciples, even Gye Cheolyeong instinctively withdrew in fear and took a step back.
Strangely enough, I wasn’t scared at all. It’s not like I was stronger than Gye Yeonseung in martial arts.
Well, compared to the bastards I faced in my past life, this level of killing intent is child’s play.
Satisfied with that reasoning, I kept speaking.
If I can’t hit him with strength, then hitting with words—that’s the Sojeongdae way.
“Honestly, I wish you or the sect leader would stop doing things like this. If you did, at least us inner disciples would have a chance to learn Taeulmun’s martial arts.”
“Heh… hehehe. You’re saying it’s better to learn from the sect leader than from me?”
“It’s not like I can learn anything from you anyway. Outer disciples aren’t allowed to pass on sect techniques. Not to mention, you have no actual combat experience.”
“Ugh…”
Gye Yeonseung began trembling with rage.
Saryeon crept up beside me and whispered urgently.
“What are you doing, senior?! Are you crazy?”
“I don’t know. I’m just telling the truth.”
Screw it. I’ve had enough.
A future filled with nothing but despair.
A powerless me.
Maybe if I die here by Gye Yeonseung’s sword, Gye Cheolyeong will have no choice but to leave Taeulmun?
Then there might be a chance for a sect disciple to get into Murim Academy via special admission.
But then again, would sending one person even change anything?
Even if you get into the Murim Alliance as a low-rank warrior, you’re just a meat shield.
Still, to take an active role in the Great War of Justice and Evil, getting into Murim Academy is essential.
I must not let Gye Cheolyeong, who only wants to join the Academy for the sake of fame within the Alliance, take that opportunity.
“Hmph… so that’s what you think? Fine. You must think you’re skilled enough to talk like that. Then step forward! Prove it in front of Cheolyeong!”
This is how it always goes.
When all else fails, it comes down to a contest of skill—leaving no more room for words.
If this were the past, I’d have backed down at this point.
But now… it’s time to teach them a lesson.
Even if it’s just venting for the sake of it—if it helps me feel better, then it’s worth something.
I reached my hand out to Saryeon.
She hid her wooden sword behind her back and said,
“…Senior, if you fight now, you’ll get seriously hurt. Just apologize.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong, so there’s nothing to apologize for.”
I unfolded my white-gloved hand and took the wooden sword from hers, then stepped forward.
“Jin Sowoon! Prepare your battle stance!”
“Why use a formal duel stance against Senior Gye…? Let’s just get this over with.”
I slung the wooden sword over my shoulder, signaling I was ready.
My carefree attitude clearly irritated them—Gye Cheolyeong’s expression wasn’t much different from Gye Yeonseung’s.
“Jin Sowoon! How dare you speak like that!”
“Senior, let’s just start already.”
“You need a real beating.”
Gye Cheolyeong began assuming a stance that wasn’t part of Taeulmun’s martial arts.
The Samyeong Sword—got beat by that so many damn times in my past life.
It was a style learned from an infamous wanderer of Shaanxi, Heon Wonsu, brought in as a private instructor.
I memorized its forms and techniques the moment I saw them, but back then, I didn’t have the skills to dodge or counter them.
But now, I had the shining experience of a former low-rank warrior of the Murim Alliance, who stood as a meat shield in Sojeongdae against all manner of martial cult death squads, including the Heavenly Demon Black Sword Unit.
I wasn’t about to be beaten down one-sidedly by a twenty-year-old Gye Cheolyeong.
“Begin!!”
The moment Gye Yeonseung’s voice fell, Gye Cheolyeong dashed forward, gliding across the ground with swift footwork.
It definitely wasn’t Taeulmun’s stepping technique.
For a split second, his attack aimed for my eyes.
As expected from a wanderer’s sword style—his strikes were rough and ferocious.
The younger Taeulmun disciples were clearly shaken.
But.
Compared to those lunatic killers from the demonic cult, this is child’s play.
Besides, Gye Cheolyeong lacked the desperate drive that Heon Wonsu had when he fought for his life.
Even if it’s the same sword technique, it’s a completely different performance.
I didn’t even need any of the martial arts I’d gained in my past life.
The basic Socheon Sword Technique that every kid from Busaeng Hall knew was enough.
Clack.
I struck Gye Cheolyeong’s sword upward with the flat of my blade, then unleashed the third form of Socheon Sword.
Papapak!
In an instant, my wooden sword tapped several parts of his body.
“Guh!”
His eyes went wide, as if suddenly snapped back to reality.
I pressed forward with the Socheon Sword Technique again, pushing Gye Cheolyeong back.
“Huh…”
“…Whoa.”
“That’s the Socheon Sword, right?”
Recognizing the familiar moves, the kids gasped in surprise.
On the other hand, Gye Cheolyeong couldn’t even respond properly to a technique he knew, struggling with each attack.
Eventually, he broke form and left himself open.
“There’s an opening, Senior!”
I brought my sword down with all my might.
Crack!
With the sound of something breaking, a scream erupted.
“Aaaagh!”
Gye Cheolyeong dropped his sword and began rolling on the ground clutching his head.
“Gyaaaaa!”
After a brief silence, the Taeulmun kids began to scream.
“““Waaaaaaah!”””
“Silence! Silence! Quiet!!”
Gye Yeonseung, inspecting Gye Cheolyeong, roared with killing intent in his voice.
“Back to your places!”
The children, terrified by the pressure of a martial master—an adult martial master—quickly returned to their spots, swallowing hard.
“Aaargh, my head!”
Clutching his skull, Gye Cheolyeong looked at his hands.
They were stained red.
Gye Yeonseung saw it too and glared at me as if he wanted to kill me.
“What happened!”
“What do you mean?”
“I asked how you managed to beat Cheolyeong!”
“I beat him using the Socheon Sword.”
“There’s no way the Samyeong Sword would lose to something like Socheon—”
Gye Yeonseung suddenly cut himself off.
No matter how much the Gyerong Trading Company controlled Taeulmun, there were lines you did not cross. He was moving dangerously close to one.
“The Samyeong Sword and Socheon Sword differ greatly in structure. I asked how you bridged that gap.”
A roundabout way of speaking.
What he was really asking was: How could a basic technique like Socheon Sword defeat the Samyeong Sword, a style that has created peak-level masters?
“Where in the world is there such a thing as ‘absolute’? If the practitioner’s skill is lacking…”
I stopped mid-sentence as sudden realization struck me like a blow to the head.
- The Demonic Cult will return.
- The Murim Alliance will fall at the hands of the Demonic Cult.
- Since the Taeulmun Sect belongs to the Murim Alliance, it too will fall.
- In the midst of it all, with my uselessly good memory, I’ll be used here and there until I die.
Is this also something that ‘absolutely’ cannot be changed?
“You can’t even speak straight. You’re clearly using some kind of trickery, aren’t you?”
While I was momentarily lost in thought, Gye Yeonseung’s nonsense made me frown.
“…What nonsense is that now?”
“The gap between basic sword techniques and advanced ones cannot be compared. That’s common knowledge for anyone who practices martial arts.”
“Does Mount Hua teach its disciples to make excuses like that when their skills fall short?”
“You dare…! Take that back, right now!”
“Am I wrong?”
“Fine! Then try to bridge that gap—against me.”
“…”
Contempt flickered in the eyes of Hong Saryeon and the disciples.
No matter how you looked at it, this was an adult throwing a tantrum at a child.
“Are you serious?”
“I, of course, will not use internal energy and will face you with techniques alone. What, can’t prove yourself?”
“Before that, shouldn’t you take Senior Brother Gye to a physician?”
Gye Cheolyeong, who had been screaming in pain, suddenly stopped crying and shook his head like nothing had happened—probably hoping Gye Yeonseung would take revenge for him.
“I-I’m fine.”
Dude, you’re still bleeding.
“I’ll ask again. Can you not prove it?”
Maybe I had already given in to defeat before I even took the first step.
Certainly, my situation is just as despairing as in my past life.
But more importantly, isn’t the ‘me’ of now clearly different from the ‘me’ of before?
Like I said—there’s no such thing as an ‘absolute.’
If everything were predetermined, then the fact that our Sojeongdae captured the Guardian Law King of the Demonic Cult would make no sense at all.
So I won’t run away in fear like before!
I raised my head and looked at Gye Yeonseung.
“What if I do prove it?”
“…What?”
“If I prove it, what will you do? Isn’t it strange for an adult to throw a fit at a kid without offering them anything in return?”
Gye Yeonseung’s face stiffened.
That was the expression of someone who genuinely wanted to kill me.
“What do you want?”
What do I need right now?
If I won’t give up on the opportunity, the one thing I need above all else is time.
“If I win, acknowledge that I’ve completed Busaeng Hall. I won’t be attending it anymore.”
“…Fine.”
Gye Yeonseung stepped aside and picked up a wooden sword.
The energy radiating from him was intense—this wouldn’t end with just a broken arm.
I raised my own wooden sword.
Come to think of it, what Sect Leader Hong Moongi offered to the Gyerong Merchants was the ‘opportunity’ to take the entrance test.
That same opportunity to compete for the “special admission slot” was available to us too—even against Gye Cheolyeong.
And yet, none of us Taeulmun disciples, including myself, ever dared to try.
The result of our failure to seize it? The destruction of our sect.
I can’t just sit and watch that same nightmare play out again.
“Begin!”
The sword technique most favoured by Gye Yeonseung, an external disciple of Mount Hua, was the Plum Blossom Sword Technique—one of Mount Hua’s ultimate skills.
In my head, I could already see every path that sword technique would take.
And with it, all of its weaknesses.
The unparalleled genius Jegal Cheongi had analysed martial arts from the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans to create counter-techniques—Shattering Styles, Amplification Styles, and Demon-Slaying Styles—capable of opposing the Demonic Cult.
But the problem was, with the Nine Sects and Five Clans scattered and divided across the world so there was no way to deliver the Jegal Trinity Style to them.
That’s when I—possessing the useless ability of perfect memory—was entrusted with the task.
Even if I lack internal energy, Cheongi’s Shattering Style will work.
Gye Yeonseung began to unleash the Plum Blossom Sword Technique.
Though the fragrance of plum blossoms didn’t float through the air since he wasn’t channeling inner power but each movement was still elegantly executed.
I instantly recalled the Shattering Style that countered the Plum Blossom Technique and went in to strike its weakness.
“You brat—!”
Just as I had done to Gye Cheolyeong, when Gye Yeonseung’s wooden sword came down to strike my head—
Thwack!
“Guh!”
His wooden sword flew from his hand, sent spinning into the air.
“W-What…?”
The Shattering Style against the Plum Blossom Technique had been executed.
Though Gye Yeonseung kept trying to unleash his strongest sword form, there was no way to put strength into a technique that had already been broken.
Did he sense something was off?
I could feel internal energy begin to flow into his wooden sword.
Too late!
The Shattering Style didn’t just break the non-enhanced version of the Plum Blossom Technique—it shattered the inner-power-enhanced version as well, and simultaneously knocked the sword from his grip.
“!!”
His wooden sword flew from his hands in an instant.
I slammed my own down toward his head, and he raised both arms to block.
Crack!
“Guh!”
With a dull sound, Gye Yeonseung’s sword—already dislodged—struck the wall behind him hard.
Thunk. Clatter.
His wooden sword rolled across the floor.
He had barely blocked mine with both hands.
Silence briefly settled over the Busaeng Hall.
“““Wooooahhhh!!”””
The Taeulmun Sect disciples all rushed out and surrounded me.
Gye Yeonseung stared at his hands in disbelief.
I slowly looked around.
This was something that had never happened in my past life.
That’s right. This life is different. Everything from now on will be different.
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