NOVEL NEXT Ch 11
The Qi Sea (Dantian), which always roared fiercely, was now utterly devoid of the mighty energy of the Purple River Divine Art.
Yet, strangely, Cheong Un-so’s face was calm.
When a person experiences too much shock, neither anger nor tears come easily.
‘…….’
Cheong Un-so stared blankly into the void.
The emotion on his face was more one of doubt than rage.
The martial artist standing before him was beyond anything he could fathom.
In the face of that overwhelming force, that incredible aura, he could do nothing.
The feeling of helplessness was indescribable.
“Are you awake?”
“…Master.”
Cheong Un-so struggled to rise and faced his master, Dan Cheon-yang.
Dan Cheon-yang, draping his robe gracefully, sat down with a distant, sorrowful gaze fixed on his disciple.
“Is your body alright?”
“Yes.”
Cheong Un-so’s face was expressionless.
His body was far from alright.
The Purple River Divine Art, the foundation of his life-long cultivation, had been completely destroyed, along with all his Qi veins.
All the internal strength he had built up over his lifetime was gone.
But he didn’t show a hint of this, lest his master worry.
Drip.
Tears fell without emotion, for reasons he couldn’t explain.
“Ah…”
Hurriedly, Cheong Un-so turned his face away from his master to hide this side of himself.
Dan Cheon-yang approached the bedside, took his disciple’s face in both hands, and met his gaze.
“…There’s no need to hold it back.”
The master’s lips were pressed together tightly, fighting to contain his own emotions.
Finally, Cheong Un-so’s dam burst, and a flood of emotions poured forth.
“Sob… Master…!”
Who could understand the sorrow of a martial artist who had lost all his inner strength?
Dan Cheon-yang stroked his disciple’s back, comforting his sorrow.
“This master will restore it for you.”
This single statement offered far more than mere comfort.
**Faith.**
As always, Cheong Un-so trusted his master.
Cheong Un-so wiped away his tears and looked at his master again.
“…It was not the sword of Namgung.”
Dan Cheon-yang nodded quietly, but soon his face grew stern.
“Don’t even wonder who it was. And certainly do not harbor a desire for revenge. As difficult as it may be, you must simply forget everything.”
Cheong Un-so’s eyes filled with questions.
“Master, I will train, even if it’s like cutting bone and flesh, and I will surely…”
Without a word, Dan Cheon-yang raised his intent.
Whooong—
A violet light sword suddenly manifested in the air.
Cheong Un-so, witnessing this sight, was astonished.
“Could it be… the Mind-Shaped Sword? Have you achieved the Sword of Intent?”
Dan Cheon-yang calmly observed his disciple’s face, filled with amazement.
“It is as you suspect.”
Cheong Un-so, noticing the faint scent lingering in the air, grew even more surprised.
“Ah, the Plum Blossom Scent!”
He marveled as he witnessed the greatness of the legendary power of Mount Hua.
But nothing could shock him more than the words his master spoke next.
“I am not confident I could withstand even one strike from him.”
Cheong Un-so’s eyes widened in disbelief.
The Plum Blossom Scent of Mount Hua, a legend passed down for a thousand years.
To achieve it means not only to be the best under heaven but to be immortalized in the history of the martial world.
Yet his master admitted he couldn’t withstand even one strike?
“He is beyond human. Never direct dark emotions toward him.”
Cheong Un-so stood there, frozen, unable to say anything.
* * *
Bang!
Namgung Jang-ho slammed his fist on the table in anger.
“…Forfeit?”
It seemed even Jegal Un was puzzled, as he kept tilting his head in confusion.
“That’s what they say. That Hua Mountain’s Young Dragon…”
The news had come that Hua Mountain’s Young Dragon had suddenly withdrawn from the martial competition.
Peng Gak, who was nearby, gritted his teeth in frustration.
“Is he running away like a coward?”
Cho Hwi sighed softly, observing their agitation.
The Sword Saint had shown his skill, and naturally, their mental resilience was bound to waver.
With a compassionate expression, Cho Hwi gazed toward the training hall where Cheong Un-so was staying.
“Huh?”
Cho Hwi’s eyes widened.
Cheong Un-so was walking toward the barracks of the Five Great Families.
Only two days had passed since he had collapsed, bloodied, under the onslaught of the Sword Saint’s invisible sword energy.
‘His recovery is fast?’
Indeed, he was a member of the Six Divine Dragons!
Cho Hwi had a slightly relieved expression, feeling less guilty.
Namgung Jang-ho noticed him too and stood up, the heavy atmosphere lifting slightly.
Cheong Un-so, who had arrived by then, greeted them respectfully with clasped hands.
“I have to withdraw from the martial competition due to personal circumstances. I ask for your understanding.”
Namgung Jang-ho fixed him with a deep, unwavering gaze.
“What kind of significant circumstances would lead you to give up on the Young Dragon Competition?”
If Namgung Jang-ho’s goal had been to win the competition, Cheong Un-so’s withdrawal would have pleased him.
But his goal was never merely to win.
The Martial God Steps? The imperial family’s secret sword technique, the Emperor Sword Style, rendered that meaningless.
To him, the man in front of him was the sole reason for his relentless training and his life’s purpose.
Cheong Un-so understood that perfectly.
He knew better than anyone what it felt like to lose a worthy opponent.
So he decided to be honest.
It was a sign of respect toward Namgung Jang-ho.
“…There has been a slight issue with my martial arts.”
Namgung Jang-ho, who had been exuding a heavy aura, suddenly looked worried.
“Are you possessed by inner demons?”
Cheong Un-so gave a bitter smile.
“It’s not that severe.”
“Ah. That’s a relief.”
Despite his intense fighting spirit toward his rival, he showed concern as a fellow martial artist—a testament to his noble character.
“I, too, have long awaited this day. Believe me, I am not avoiding this fight, so please set aside your anger. Someday, I will not evade the sword of the Young Sword Lord.”
Namgung Jang-ho nodded silently.
Cheong Un-so had somehow changed.
Even his tone, which once held a hint of arrogance, was now polite, and his demeanor was far gentler.
“Well then…”
Just as Cheong Un-so respectfully clasped his hands in a farewell gesture and was about to leave the tent—
Thud.
A hand rested on his shoulder.
It was none other than Cho Hwi, casually throwing an arm around Cheong Un-so’s shoulder.
“In life, sometimes this happens, sometimes that. You need to keep your resolve strong,” he said, sympathizing with what Cheong Un-so had gone through at the hands of the Sword Saint.
Suddenly, Cheong Un-so recoiled like a turtle, sinking to the ground.
“P-please, step aside!”
He darted his eyes nervously, like a bullied student encountering a schoolyard thug, visibly unsettled and fearful.
“What? I’m just trying to be nice and talk…”
“Don’t—don’t come any closer!”
His master had told him that the Sword Saint was beyond human.
If that was the case, then he was either an immortal spirit or a mountain god, neither of which could bring any good if they got too involved.
If he angered him, he might once again mention something about ‘demonic possession’ and leave him a bloody mess!
All the younger generation of the Five Great Families, who had been watching, looked utterly baffled.
Who was Hua Mountain’s Young Dragon?
He was one of the Six Divine Dragons, representing the young martial artists of the world. And he was the strongest among them.
He was the head disciple of Mount Hua and universally acknowledged as the future Sword Saint.
Yet here he was, trembling with fear before someone else!
Everyone looked at Cho Hwi as if he were some kind of troublemaker.
“What did you do this time? What kind of mess have you made that Young Master Cheong is acting like this?”
Jegal Un wore a deeply suspicious expression.
Cho Hwi flailed his hands in protest.
“What did I do? Why do you talk as if I’m always causing trouble? That’s really unfair!”
His guilty-looking behavior only made them even more suspicious.
“No, there’s definitely something…”
Peng Gak, without thinking, chimed in.
“Look at him—he probably dragged him to some dark alley and gave him a good beating, didn’t he?”
But seriously, who would drag Hua Mountain’s Young Dragon into a dark alley and beat him up?
It wasn’t me—it was the Sword Saint who did it!
Was this how the man who cried, “The king’s ears are donkey ears!” had felt?
The truth was on the tip of Cho Hwi’s tongue, but he doubted anyone would believe him if he told it.
Namgung Jang-ho’s gaze toward Cho Hwi was complicated.
This man was truly a mystery.
A martial arts genius who could defeat even the Sky Sword Saint in a sparring match.
A master of the zither, who had left Namgung Soso, the greatest performer in Hefei, in awe.
A tactical genius who had humbled even the young master of the Legendary Strategist clan.
A great thinker who could sway renowned scholars with a single speech.
A master calligrapher who could capture the emotions of the speaker with mere strokes on paper.
Namgung Jang-ho simply couldn’t grasp who this man truly was.
Reaching the pinnacle in even one field would take a lifetime of effort, yet this man appeared to have conquered them all.
Was it truly possible for a single person to achieve all this in one lifetime?
Perhaps this man he faced was a prodigy that history would remember.
Cho Hwi gave up trying to explain and let out a sigh.
He had already savored the essence of Mount Hua and even obtained the unexpected gift of the Ten-Thousand-Year Ice Crystal. It was truly time to leave.
Cho Hwi rose from his seat and bowed deeply.
“I will take my leave now and descend the mountain.”
Jegal Un was bewildered.
“Suddenly?”
The most thrilling part of the tournament hadn’t even begun—he was leaving already?
Countless people from all over Central Plains had traveled to watch this competition from afar!
Namgung Jang-ho, who was curious about Cho Hwi’s true martial abilities, was the most anxious of all.
With the duel against the Mount Hua Dragon now off the table, he was desperate to keep Cho Hwi around.
“Surely you’re not avoiding me because you fear our match?” he said with a smirk.
Such a challenge was hard to ignore for any martial artist, especially a man.
“I mean, you’re the young lord of Namgung’s clan. I’d be crazy not to avoid that match, right?”
Wait, what?
This was not going as expected.
Namgung Jang-ho, flustered, tried a different approach.
“Cho Hwi, simply watching the competition will be a valuable learning experience. It’s rare to see so many disciples from prestigious schools gather in one place. Besides, at our age, we won’t be able to participate in the next Young Dragon Gathering, will we?”
Cho Hwi listened halfheartedly as he walked over to Jang Il-ryong, who was dozing with his chin propped up on the table.
Snoring loudly with large bubbles of drool, the sight of this rough mountain bandit was, indeed, a manly sight!
Ah! Our employee looks manly even while sleeping!
This man would play a key role in *that business* set to rake in Hefei’s wealth like never before!
“Manager Jang?”
Jang Il-ryong squinted at Cho Hwi as he nudged him awake.
“Hmm? Brother? Manager? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Cho Hwi straightened up, adopting a serious tone.
“Ahem! You agreed to work with me, didn’t you? If you’ve signed the contract, you should be familiar with your employment terms.”
Finally, Jang Il-ryong opened his shirt front, took out the contract, and looked it over.
The contract clearly stated “position: manager.”
“Oh! Position? Like a rank?”
“That’s right! Exactly that! If you perform well, you’ll rise in rank! And if you rise in rank? Your salary goes up too!”
“Wow!”
If only he knew what his real duties entailed, would he still be smiling so widely?
Leaning close, Cho Hwi lowered his voice and whispered in his ear.
“I don’t know when I’ll be back in Hefei, so for now, stay here with Namgung’s clan. I’ll send you a letter; when you receive it, come to the designated location right away.”
“Got it, boss!”
“Ahem! Call me *president.* Say it—*president.*”
Jang Il-ryong, looking curiously pleased, replied,
“President?”
With a satisfied look, Cho Hwi raised a thumbs-up.
Jang Il-ryong beamed, completely unaware he was walking into the jaws of hell.
Finally, Cho Hwi bowed respectfully to Namgung Jang-ho.
“Thank you for allowing me to participate. I’ve learned a lot.”
Namgung Jang-ho returned the bow, looking regretful.
“If your mind is made up, there’s nothing more to say. We’ll meet again in Hefei. But what about the Ten-Thousand-Year Ice Crystal?”
Cho Hwi suddenly looked taken aback.
In his eagerness to return to the Sword Tower, he had nearly forgotten something crucial.
Though he had won the literary competition, he could not receive the prize until all winners were decided in every category.
There was no way he could carry such a large and heavy crystal all the way to the Sword Tower.
More than anything, he was not inclined to wait around for the end of the Young Dragon Gathering now that his objectives were complete.
“Would it be alright if Namgung’s clan held it for safekeeping on my behalf?”
Namgung Jang-ho thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Understood. However, we’ll need a notary if I am to claim your prize on your behalf.”
“I’ll do it.”
The one who stepped forward with a curious smile was Jegal Un.
Cho Hwi, his face lighting up, gave Jegal Un a bow as well.
“Thank you.”
With a lighter step, Cho Hwi began his journey toward the Sword Tower.
* * *
Shanxi Province, Ganquan County.
Cho Hwi, sitting down on the quiet plain to wipe the sweat from his brow, called out to the Sword Saint.
“Master Sword Saint?”
He had called several times over the past three days of non-stop walking, but there had been no answer.
“Oh, come on…”
He was at a loss.
He’d only been told that the Sword Tower was somewhere in Ganquan County, but if the Sword Saint continued to ignore him, this entire journey might end up being a wild goose chase.
As Cho Hwi was looking around, feeling increasingly hopeless, he suddenly sensed a presence behind him.
“The Fang King has arrived.”
Startled by the deep voice, Cho Hwi shot to his feet and turned around.
Then he cocked his head in confusion.
“Hmm?”
A group of burly men, dressed as merchants, farmers, and innkeepers, stood there with unsettling, sinister smiles on their faces.
“Wait a minute, who are these clowns?”
And what was with their ridiculous disguises? Each of them had a massive, gym-owner-like physique, and they thought *this* would pass as a disguise?
Cho Hwi stifled a laugh as he looked at them.
“…The Red Hawk Storm Squad?”
The men flinched, looking stunned as if to say, *How did he know?*
Cover up those chest muscles, you idiots.
One of them ripped off his mask with a scowl and spat on the ground.
“That damn brat. Let’s take him down!”
Just days ago, these guys had been acting all dignified and serious, so it was absurd to see them drop the facade so suddenly. Still, survival came first.
“Hold on!”
“Shut his mouth first! Once he starts talking, it’s trouble!”
This was the guy who’d used nothing but his silver tongue to turn the great disciple of the Green Forest King into a ‘righteous sect’ member.
Who knew what sweet-talking nonsense he might pull this time—better to shut him up first!
“What’s with you guys all of a sudden?”
“Shut up, you brat!”
*Smack!*
The sound of fists clashing was surprisingly crisp.
The man shaking his throbbing fist glared fiercely at Cho Hwi.
“Damn, this bastard’s got some strength, huh? You actually know a move or two, don’t you, you little punk? Damn righteous sect brats and their sneaky ways. I swear, you people are the worst!”
Though he was spewing a stream of curses, the wary look in his eyes was unmistakable.
Even for a veteran who’d roamed the martial world for over thirty years and seen all kinds of action, Cho Hwi’s skill was no joke.
As the other men, prompted by his gaze, surrounded Cho Hwi like a pack of hyenas, Cho Hwi rubbed his aching fist and gritted his teeth.
Wow, these guys switched up real fast, didn’t they? Just a moment ago, when they were surrounded by the Five Great Families, they were speaking so politely, but now that I’m alone, they’re spitting out all these curses?
Ladies and gentlemen, this is exactly what scummy, low-class bandits look like!
Despite the rising heat of anger, Cho Hwi felt only despair.
He might have received a strengthened body and some semblance of internal energy from the Sword Saint, but he had never formally learned martial arts.
But who was Cho Hwi?
With an odd glint in his eyes, he quickly formed a plan and shouted back in a coarse voice.
“You jerks, just how many of you does it take to beat up one guy? And you still call yourselves men?”
The innkeeper of the group flinched, taking a step back.
Seeing his chance, Cho Hwi stepped forward and kept talking.
“Typical ignorant bandits. You start with a gang attack. How about you tell me what you want first?”
“What did you just say, you little punk?”
As the farmer, holding a sickle, glared at him, a deep voice sounded from behind.
“Enough.”
A massive figure stepped forward.
Cho Hwi felt a shiver run down his spine as he recognized him.
No way! Is that supposed to be a courtesan disguise?
The man took off his wig and mask, revealing his face.
Cho Hwi looked on in astonishment.
“The Red Hawk Storm Squad leader?”
Could it be that this “courtesan” was the same man who exuded such terrifying energy back in the ravine?
“We meet again.”
Cho Hwi’s spine tingled as he listened to the deep, manly voice of the squad leader.
For the love of… Please, take off that ridiculous robe first.
And what’s up with those hairy legs?
“Why do you look at me like that?”
Cho Hwi’s face showed exasperation.
There could be only one answer: his men must have praised his “perfect disguise,” giving him a thumbs-up while snickering behind his back.
With a sigh, Cho Hwi looked at the leader pitifully and said, “Wow, you’re pretty brave. Right now, this area’s crawling with righteous sect warriors.”
Kang Man-ho, the squad leader, smirked derisively.
“The martial arts tournament is happening over a hundred li away in Mount Hua. No matter how loud you scream, no one will hear you from here.”
Wow, these bandit bastards…
How can anyone be this clueless?
“You know, I’ve hardly ever left Anhui, so the only people I’d have a grudge against would be… well, you guys?”
Cho Hwi pulled out the Heavenly Sword Token and held it up.
“See this? I may not look it, but I’m a guest of the Namgung Clan and the holder of the Heavenly Sword Token.”
“So what?”
Cho Hwi shouted in frustration.
“Oh, come on! Think a little! If something happens to me, do you think the prestigious Namgung Clan will let it slide?”
At last, Kang Man-ho seemed to understand the implications, and a deep furrow formed between his brows.
But he was more stubborn than Cho Hwi had expected.
“If we tear you to pieces and scatter you across the mountains, I think the animals will take care of the evidence.”
Wow, these black-market bandits.
They talk about ripping people apart like it’s no big deal!
“And just how would killing me solve anything?”
Flinch.
Kang Man-ho hadn’t thought that far ahead.
He’d simply chased Cho Hwi down as soon as he noticed he was separated from the Five Great Families.
“I’m guessing this is about trying to get back at that Zhang Il-ryong, who defected to the Namgung Clan, right? This approach won’t get you anywhere.”
Just then, the farmer muttered angrily, “Leader! Are you really going to let him keep yapping? We can’t let this guy talk his way out again…!”
*Ding!*
A silver coin suddenly landed by his feet!
The farmer pounced on it like a hawk, his face lighting up.
At that, all the bandits turned to look at him with hardened expressions.
Are you seriously picking that up right now?
As he reached into his pouch, ready to pull out another coin, Cho Hwi’s face twisted into a mocking smile.
Haha!
These petty bandits, so greedy they can’t resist shiny things.
“You bastard! Don’t try any…
*Ding!*
One of the innkeeper’s men looked a bit sheepish as he grinned awkwardly, holding a gleaming silver coin.
A true bandit is one who loses all sense the moment they see silver. These bandits, with greed engraved into their very souls, couldn’t possibly resist Cho Hwi’s shower of silver.
“Are you guys serious? And you call yourselves the mighty Red Hawk Storm Squad of the Green Forest?”
Though Kang Man-ho, the squad leader, scolded his men, his gaze, too, was fixed on the shimmering gold coin in Cho Hwi’s hand.
‘Is that… gold?’
Cho Hwi held out a gold coin worth at least ten silver coins.
Would this great, ferocious leader of the Red Hawk Storm Squad dare to accept such a thing…? He wanted it. Desperately.
Biting his lip hard enough to tear it, Kang Man-ho tried to hold back his desire, but he, too, was a bandit with greed etched into his DNA.
Thud!
With a satisfied look, Kang Man-ho took the gold coin, trying to maintain some dignity as he asked, “Ahem… What is it that you want?”
Without expression, Cho Hwi replied, “If you let me live, I’ll give you all the silver I have.”
In this way, Cho Hwi was embodying the first rule of merchants: fair trade.
“If it’s gold, we can let you live.”
“Leader! My share, too?”
One by one, the men threw down their weapons and surrounded Cho Hwi, eyes locked on his pouch, their faces lit with greedy excitement.
The glistening, manic gleam of greed!
Cho Hwi gritted his teeth internally.
Damn it! I’m not even on a mountain, yet I’m getting extorted by mountain bandits?
Don’t you people have any honor in your field?
Sighing with a monk-like detachment, Cho Hwi offered up his pouch as if he were making an offering.
“Wow! How many gold coins are in here?”
“This bastard’s loaded, huh?”
The men, grinning widely, rummaged through his pouch, eyes bright.
Cho Hwi felt fury rising from deep within, but he forced himself to imagine the word *patience* in his mind.
Though they might look sloppy, this was still the strongest force in the Green Forest. If he messed with them on a bad day, even ten lives wouldn’t be enough.
Getting out of here now and planning for the future was the best option!
As Confucius said in the *Spring and Autumn Annals*: “A gentleman’s revenge is never late, even if it takes ten years.”
Cho Hwi allowed himself a wry smile.
Just three days ago, he’d been mocking Confucius, and now, of all times, his words came to mind?
Such is the circle of life, unpredictable as ever.
At that moment, the Sword Saint’s voice suddenly echoed in Cho Hwi’s mind.
—Was that truly your intention?
There was a strange darkness to his voice, which usually sounded dignified and confident.
‘Huh? What do you mean all of a sudden?’
Even after a long silence, the Sword Saint’s voice didn’t return.
Cho Hwi looked at the bandits feasting and bickering over his coins.
“Can I leave now?”
The men didn’t even look back, waving him off.
“Yeah, scram.”
“Let’s never meet again.”
Once more, his whole body trembled with fury, but Cho Hwi forced himself to ignore it and walked away.
‘I’ll see you again. Count on it.’
But as he took his next steps, he was faced with the harsh reality that he now had no money for travel, leaving Cho Hwi crestfallen.
As he trudged along with slumped shoulders, the Sword Saint’s voice returned.
—Never again shall I appear in your body.
What the… Has he been listening to everything, like some kind of creep?
Come on, that’s a little extreme. If this were a game, you’d practically be the Game Master!
‘Uh?’
Normally, the Sword Saint would have sternly scolded him for such a comment, but now… nothing?
Cautiously, Cho Hwi asked, ‘Are you… sulking?’
—You must go to Autumn Return Valley.
‘Autumn Return Valley? Where is that?’
—See that birch tree? Head in that direction. Once you cross the ridges, you’ll reach the foot of Mt. Dangye. Climb that mountain.
Oh, great. More mountains?
After climbing up and down Mount Hua, Cho Hwi was pretty much sick of mountains.
Please, sir. I made a mistake. Why don’t you just take control of my body again? If you fly, we could reach that Autumn Return Valley in no time!
—Silence! The sun will set soon. You’d best move quickly.
Pouting, Cho Hwi quickened his pace.
* * *
“Ughhhh…”
This was absurd.
The slope was practically a cliff, almost vertical. You’d have trouble climbing it on all fours.
Cho Hwi clung to a rock, trembling, as the Sword Saint’s voice thundered again.
—If night falls, all will be lost! Soon, it’ll be pitch black. Do you intend to hang there forever?
This was definitely revenge!
Just for a little backtalk!
The Sword Saint must know a shortcut but was forcing him to climb out of petty spite.
—Silence, fool! How weak-willed can you be? You, who spoke of a gentleman’s revenge, can’t even muster the will to climb a single cliff?
At that moment, the face of the squad leader, who had ogled the gold coins, flashed before him.
“Raaaahhh!”
With a sudden burst of energy, Cho Hwi resumed his climb, but no matter how determined he was, he slipped, his knees and elbows getting torn up.
Thirty minutes of effort lost, Cho Hwi’s face twisted in fury.
“Aaaaaagh!”
The scream that tore from Cho Hwi’s throat was almost insane.
He had completely lost all sense of reason.
With a fierce determination, he dug his fingers into the cliff as though he would tear it apart.
*Thunk!*
A wave of pain shot through his hands, but he ignored it.
Better than slipping again.
He gritted his teeth so hard his lips bled, pressing on.
Scraped by rocks, torn by branches, his whole body was covered in blood, yet he didn’t stop.
How long did he climb, covered in grit and fury?
At last, Cho Hwi realized there was nothing left to grab onto.
He pulled himself up with the last of his strength and found himself at the mouth of a tiny cave, barely a single *jang* in diameter.
“…Wow.”
He was speechless from the disappointment.
“…This is really the Sword Tomb?”
—Indeed.
The Sword Tomb.
He hadn’t expected something grand, but a cave? For a place that produced the God of the Sword, this was a bit too humble.
Here’s the translation to English:
—
– “What you gain upon entering is entirely up to you. Never harbor impure intentions; only face him with reverence.”
Cho Hui looked puzzled.
“Are you saying there’s someone inside that cave?”
– “There are traces of him.”
“Traces?”
– “What I found in the Sword Cavern were countless sword marks. Those sword marks are the true essence of the Sword Cavern.”
What is this old man talking about?
Did he really bring him all this way just to show him sword marks on cave walls?
After draining him of his last coins?
“Elder, I’m just a layman who knows nothing about swordsmanship. Will simply looking at sword marks make me a master?”
– “Blasphemy!”
The elder’s voice, carrying a reverence beyond mere sincerity, continued.
– “I do not know who carved those sword marks! But never judge him by human standards!”
Don’t judge him by human standards?
Is he saying the person was a god or something?
– “Yes, those sword marks are a genuine legacy of the divine. Though I have been called the God of the Sword, I have never once thought I could match him.”
Cho Hui could hardly believe what he was hearing.
This was coming from the mouth of a martial artist once revered as a god of the sword.
– “There is no perfection in martial arts. I have always believed that. But his swordsmanship was uniquely flawless. How could a mere human reach such a level of completeness?”
The more the elder praised him, the more curious Cho Hui became.
Before he knew it, he was walking towards the entrance of the cave.
As Cho Hui scanned the dimly lit cave walls, his eyes widened in shock.
“…Impossible!”
The cave walls were covered with countless sword marks.
But each mark had numerous annotations carved around it.
– “You mean to say you can read that ancient script? I made rubbings and showed them to countless scholars, but no one could decipher them!”
But it wasn’t ancient script at all.
It was a series of vectors, connecting point by point.
Constant acceleration, freefall, upward and downward vertical motion.
It explained all the techniques of martial arts in terms of physics.
Parabolas using sine theta and cosine theta.
Displacement distance, instantaneous speed, maximum height, angles, parallelograms—everything, represented by the pinnacle of modern physics.
The precise distribution of internal energy to achieve consistent acceleration.
There were even calculations considering the gravitational value relative to the sword’s weight.
Cho Hui shuddered at the sheer obsession.
“No… This is…”
Every notation was written in Arabic numerals, English, and Korean.
Cho Hui was too stunned to speak.
The one who left these sword marks was a modern person!
And a Korean, no less!
– “What? Then are you saying the owner of these marks came from your world?”
Still in a daze, Cho Hui nodded.
“…Yes. When was this cave discovered?”
– “It’s an ancient site, at least a thousand years old.”
A modern person in the martial world over a thousand years ago?
If someone had researched swordsmanship this obsessively and produced such traces, shouldn’t his name be recorded in history?
– “That has always puzzled me as well. His final sword mark was beyond this world. It’s strange that such a master is not recorded in the history of the martial world.”
“His final sword mark?”
– “Doesn’t the geography of the Valley of Autumn Reversal strike you as unusual?”
Now that he thought about it, it was odd.
A valley is a path carved by a river over many years.
Rivers must curve as they flow.
But the Valley of Autumn Reversal was a straight line.
– “The Valley of Autumn Reversal is his final sword mark.”
“No way! That’s insane!”
A deep, ten-li (approximately four kilometers) gorge, created by the sword of a single man?
In awe, Cho Hui scanned the cave more closely.
Looking carefully, he realized the sheer quantity of engraved words was no joke.
Twenty-fourth day of facing the wall.
Eliminated from sword techniques collected are elements that cannot be explained by physics, such as tradition, ritual, Buddhism, Daoism, and demonic arts.
Then classified techniques with a multivariable vector function as first-order, those requiring differential coefficients due to high variation as second-order, and the most complex, inducing geometric illusions, as third-order.
It took a hundred days just to organize it all.
Cho Hui shivered at the meticulousness of his obsession.
As a modern person, he could instantly sense that his life must have been anything but ordinary.
One hundred and twentieth day of facing the wall.
Basic techniques of each sect had a higher degree of completeness in terms of physics than their secret moves.
There were exceptions, like the Wudang sect’s Yangyi Xin Gong.
Yangyi Xin Gong maximized parameters, allowing one to perform different sword techniques with two minds simultaneously, creating more variables.
It’s a technique that warrants further study.
One hundred and thirty-ninth day of facing the wall.
My mind is filled with dots, lines, and surfaces.
Why does this line in the sword technique curve precisely at this point?
To reduce the standard deviation of the hitting point, it should be a linear transformation, not a curve.
Let’s change it.
Ah, but attempting to change it proves challenging due to my physical strength. Even my energy circulation routes feel uncomfortable.
Am I a fool?
It took me this long to realize this.
The reason this movement curves here is due to the limits of human physical movements.
One hundred and eighty-first day of facing the wall.
Theoretically, I can express the speed of light in terms of physics.
But if I can’t realize that calculation physically, it’s all useless.
What’s the point of creating a perfectly efficient sword technique if I can’t perform it?
Why did I overlook this simple logic?
In the end, it’s back to physical training.
The completion of a body capable of realizing the calculations comes first.
Four hundred eighty-seventh day of facing the wall.
Once again, I realize how fragile the human body is.
I conducted an experiment, using my mental image to hit the same tiny point with millimeter accuracy, measuring how many attempts it took.
Seven million, two hundred sixteen thousand, four hundred twenty-two times.
It took two years just to master a constant-speed vector to connect point to point.
Can a human body truly perform a sword technique perfected through physics?
This isn’t something achievable by simple physical training.
I need an alternative.
Cho Hui looked at the densely perforated wall in the cave, feeling an overwhelming nausea.
“Wow! What kind of… insane… person did this?”
This goes beyond mere human willpower.
It’s obsession, surpassing madness, bordering on self-destruction.
Four thousand six hundred eighty-five days of facing the wall.
I realized the foolishness of removing elements that cannot be explained by physics from sword techniques.
Why do the Dao and Buddhism exist?
Perfect control of the body cannot be achieved through physical training alone.
Ironically, the only way to make the body omnipotent was through mental training.
In that infernal world of countless mental images, at some point, I found myself able to contemplate my true self.
In that world alone, I could break down my body at the microscopic level, or become a grand existence that could overturn the universe.
In that world alone, every physical movement of points, lines, and shapes was fully realized.
I don’t know when, but I realized that the boundary between the world of mental images and reality had blurred.
I didn’t breathe, eat, or die.
Six thousand nine hundred thirty-two days of facing the wall.
My body can now perform every calculation to perfection.
No, that doesn’t quite cover it.
I see the essence of all phenomena.
It’s as if, like Neo in *The Matrix*, I have harmonized my omnipotent power with all the laws of nature.
Can I still be called human?
I sense the attention of great beings, the constellations, turning toward me.
The final words on the cave wall were no longer there; only geometric lines and shapes, as if he had unleashed all his realizations in a jubilant sword dance.
It was a strange, indescribable feeling.
Then, as dots and lines swirled around like the stars, filling the air, Cho Hui felt as if he were viewing a 3D screen without the glasses, only with overwhelming realism.
In harmony with Cho Hui’s senses, the elder let out an ecstatic voice.
– “Incredible! Truly incredible! It took me seven years to see a meteor in this place, and you’re already sensing starlight!”
With his vision blurred by the illusion, Cho Hui barely managed to speak.
“…The Heavenly Meteor Sword (The world’s flowing star sword)?”
Clearly, this illusionary sensation closely resembled the *Heavenly Meteor Sword* that the Sword God elder had demonstrated.
“You’ve seen it exactly!” exclaimed the elder with immense amazement.
This was a place he had reached by surrendering his very soul to the *Blood Prison*, barely obtaining the power to break free from the constraints of causality. He had taken seven years after gaining abilities that surpassed human limitations, simply to perceive these meteors.
Yet here was Jo-hwi, standing in the cave and experiencing that same sensation after barely an hour. Even more remarkable was his ability to recognize the connection between this meteor illusion and the *Heavenly Meteor Sword* technique itself.
Could this be mere talent?
No, this was beyond words like “genius.”
This was *destiny.*
It was as if fate had preordained this very moment for him. Only then did the Sword God understand the true reason behind the connection with this descendant, Jo-hwi.
“I was… the bridge.”
The Sword God realized he was a link in a divine arrangement, the bridge connecting all these destinies.
“Ahh!” Jo-hwi gasped, overwhelmed as he felt the manifestation of starlight—the resonance of the stars in his very soul—immersing himself in this transcendental vision. He was now absorbing the essence of the *Heavenly Sword Stream* into every fiber of his being.
At that moment, Jo-hwi had no idea that his journey in the realm of this consciousness would last three years.
Thus, the *Young Sword God* was born.