Episode 103: People on the Edge

”…Two of them, you say?”

“Yes, the leader of the Taeui Sword Sect is at the front. And a bit behind, there’s a man with a spear. He doesn’t seem to be of the highest caliber.”

Accurately gauging a martial artist’s skill level by instinct alone is no easy feat. Tang Mujin hoped his intuition was wrong.

Unfortunately, Nogun Samgeom recognized the man with the spear.

”…Isn’t that Jo Gwan?”

“With that flat nose and short chin, it seems so.”

“And he’s carrying a spear, just as expected.”

Both Nogun Samgeom and Namgung Myung seemed to know who Jo Gwan was, but Tang Mujin had never heard the name before.

“Who is Jo Gwan?”

“He’s a martial artist from the Sangsan Jo family, renowned for the Three Great Spear Techniques. People often talk about the Yang and Ak families as equals, but… Anyway, Jo Gwan became a first-rate fighter at a young age, so it’s not surprising if he’s surpassed the pinnacle by now.”

The plan had gone awry from the start.

Tanglang’s face twisted as if he already sensed defeat.

The leader of the Taeui Sword Sect approached with a bright, cheerful expression, waving his hand.

“Ah, familiar faces! Has it been twenty years since we last met?”

Just seeing the leader’s face made Nogun Samgeom’s stomach churn.

The lives of Pyochung, Tanglang, and Sanjeo had become entangled and twisted with the Taeui Sword Sect leader.

If they hadn’t crossed paths with him in Yichang long ago, they might have completed their first martial journey peacefully and returned to the Wudang Sect. They could have lived the tranquil life of Taoist hermits.

But Nogun Samgeom had been caught up in the leader’s schemes and committed a grave mistake.

The weight of that sin was so heavy that returning to the Wudang Sect was impossible.

It was then they abandoned their names and titles. Having committed an unforgivable act, they lived calling each other insects and beasts—Ladybug, Mantis, and Wild Boar.

The three Taoists had not completed their first martial journey in thirty years. They likely wouldn’t finish it until the moment they died.

After a long pause, Pyochung finally spoke.

”…It’s been more than twenty years.”

“Really? Well, it’s good to see you. I’ll be back after finishing my business, and we can talk then. Could you step aside?”

“Who blocks a path with the intention of letting someone through?”

With the plan disrupted, it was only right to regroup and decide on a new course of action.

But Pyochung didn’t ask for Tang Mujin or Namgung Myung’s opinions. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t back down.

The leader of the Taeui Sword Sect asked, “Do you think you can stop us with your skills?”

“Of course, we can stop someone like you. Isn’t that why you brought Jo Gwan along? I was wondering why you were late.”

The leader’s lips curled slightly.

“People don’t call that fear. They say it’s being thoughtful and cautious. Just as you fought a second battle when you reached first-rate, it’s only natural to assume you have something to rely on for this third fight.”

The leader glanced at Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung, then chuckled.

“But this attempt is quite disappointing. Did you really trust just those two youngsters? I expected you to bring at least one top-tier master.”

”…”

“And I wasn’t late because I brought Jo Gwan. It was because of this.”

The leader tossed something round towards Pyochung.

Pyochung caught it and examined it. It was the familiar head of a Green Forest bandit.

He stared at the face in silence, a storm of emotions brewing within him.

The leader taunted, “Are you speechless with joy? Seems you really liked the gift.”

Pyochung felt raindrops on his forehead. Though the rain hadn’t started, the scent of it filled the air, and soon, it began to pour. It didn’t seem like a brief shower.

Pyochung looked up at the sky silently, then set the bandit’s head down and drew his sword.

“Your head won’t be cut so cleanly.”

“Of course not. It won’t be cut at all.”

In the next instant, the two figures on the narrow path leaped into the air.

The leader and Jo Gwan jumped off the path and the cliff’s edge, landing in a wide-open space above the group. Tang Mujin and his companions found themselves surrounded.

Jo Gwan and the leader could easily ignore them and head for the bridge if they wished.

But it seemed they had no such intention. As martial artists, they wouldn’t turn their backs on lesser opponents.

This was expected, except for the fact that the leader wasn’t alone.

‘This complicates things…’

But having come this far, there was no turning back.

Tang Mujin stood alone, blocking the path, while the other four faced off against the leader and Jo Gwan.

The youngest-looking Tang Mujin stood his ground, prompting a bemused comment from a martial artist with an ornate scabbard.

“What? You think you can block this path alone?”

“It’s a narrow path, so it’s enough.”

Tang Mujin assessed the martial prowess of those on the path.

There were no top-tier masters, but at least three or four first-rate fighters. The man directly in front of him was certainly first-rate.

The man with the ornate scabbard scoffed.

“You’re short-sighted and overconfident. It’s a narrow path, but you’re alone too.”

“I know. And I’m confident because none of you seem capable of getting past me.”

As Tang Mujin spoke and drew his sword, the man in front burst into laughter.

“Do you think a brat like you can stop me, Hyungmun Quick Blade?”

Instead of answering, Tang Mujin asked, “Hyungmun, that’s a place name, right? A few days east from here.”

“Yes.”

“My master always said, there’s no one worth their salt with a place name in their nickname.”

The man who introduced himself as Hyungmun Quick Blade twitched at the eyes and, without warning, swung his sword at Tang Mujin. It was a swift and proud strike.

Any other martial artist might have parried and exchanged blows, but Tang Mujin chose a simpler method.

His most confident technique, the Thrust.

The Thrust had always been his strongest move. But now, it was different. Trapped underground in Geumjeonggak, he had honed his thrusting skills through countless repetitions of the Cheongsang Fist’s water flow technique.

Before the opponent’s blade could reach Tang Mujin, his sword pierced the man’s forehead.

There was no special reason. Tang Mujin was simply faster. The simplest form of a counterattack.

The people on the path, lined up as they were, couldn’t see what had happened at the front.

Only one person, standing behind Hyungmun Quick Blade, saw the tip of the sword protruding from the back of his head.

As Tang Mujin withdrew his sword, Hyungmun Quick Blade’s body crumpled and fell off the path.

‘The mountain beasts will feast well today.’

Tang Mujin flicked the foreign substance off his sword and spoke.

“If anyone came here believing the nonsense about eradicating a band of rebels, you can leave now, and I won’t stop you. The people on Nogun Mountain aren’t the rebels you think they are.”

But the martial artists didn’t retreat.

One death wasn’t enough to make them back down; they had numbers on their side, the reward from the leader was tempting, and they didn’t want to be branded as cowards.

The only exception was the man standing directly behind Hyungmun Quick Blade. The moment he saw the sword tip protruding from the back of Hyungmun Quick Blade’s head, he lost his will to fight.

The problem was that those behind him had no intention of stepping aside.

He desperately wanted to leave, but he couldn’t ask them to move.

”…Damn it!”

The man swung his sword in desperation and soon followed Hyungmun Quick Blade off the cliff.

“So, no one plans to retreat.”

Tang Mujin exhaled slowly and deeply.

The man closest to Tang Mujin felt a chilling aura in that breath.

It wasn’t immediately life-threatening, but it was enough to sense that something was terribly wrong.

Tang Mujin spoke in a somber voice.

“Anyone planning to run should hurry.”

With a subtle aura surrounding him, Tang Mujin began to walk slowly toward the path.

The kind, healer-like demeanor Tang Mujin usually displayed was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he resembled his master in his cold, unyielding presence.

Unlike Tang Mujin, who easily pushed back the crowd, a fierce battle raged at the rear.

Pyochung struggled to parry the horizontal slash of the Taeui Sword Sect leader’s blade. The grating sound of metal scraping against metal was unpleasant.

As the sword fell, he felt a burning sensation on his shoulder, followed by something trickling down. At least it wasn’t a fatal wound.

Unlike when parrying the sword of an equal or lesser opponent, the leader’s blade clung stubbornly to his own, as if it wouldn’t easily be deflected. The damp weather suited the leader’s sticky personality and swordsmanship.

The leader commented, “You’ve improved quite a bit. You’ve been training diligently.”

“I can at least take your head.”

Pyochung spoke with bravado, but inside, he felt differently.

’…This is hopeless.’

The Three Swords of Nogun were three men, each wielding a sword. While the master of the Taeeui Sword School could swing his sword once, the Three Swords of Nogun could swing theirs three times. Well, maybe not three, but at least twice.

Yet, it was always the master of the Taeeui Sword School who took the offensive, while the Three Swords of Nogun could only manage to deflect his attacks, narrowly avoiding fatal blows.

The only reason they could even manage that was because they had always envisioned the master of the Taeeui Sword School as their opponent during training.

This relentless mental rehearsal allowed the three to move as one, enabling them to barely fend off the master’s attacks, though minor injuries continued to accumulate.

Meanwhile, the fact that the Three Swords of Nogun were occupied with the master meant that Namgung Myung was left to face Jo Gwan alone.

Naturally, Namgung Myung’s situation was far more precarious than that of the Three Swords of Nogun.

Swish—

As Namgung Myung twisted his body like a madman, Jo Gwan’s spear grazed past his temple. Something indistinguishable, whether it was rain or cold sweat, trickled down his back.

’…I almost died this time.’

Unlike the Three Swords of Nogun, who could occasionally launch an attack, Namgung Myung hadn’t even attempted a proper offensive.

It was the difference between someone who had broken through a wall and someone who was stuck behind it, between someone armed and someone unarmed.

“You’re annoyingly quick. Did you only learn footwork instead of martial arts? Like some kind of thief.”

Jo Gwan grumbled as he retrieved his spear, though his voice was full of confidence.

”…Senior, could you go a bit easier on me?”

“Whether it’s sooner or later, it ends with your death.”

In the short skirmish, Namgung Myung had reached for his waist several times.

A place where, in the past, the hilt of a sword should have been.

A year had passed since he had last held a sword, yet his body still hadn’t forgotten it.

Of course, Namgung Myung was fairly confident in his martial arts. He believed he could handle most opponents with just his martial skills.

But that didn’t mean he could fight a master with them.

In fact, if he hadn’t grown up watching countless duels between masters, he would likely be dead by now.

‘If only I could get in closer.’

But there was no way to close the distance.

Unlike swordsmen, who often neglect footwork while training with swords, those who wield spears invest a lot of time in footwork over spear techniques.

Maintaining a distance where they can attack unilaterally without being attacked themselves—that’s the essence of spear fighting.

‘If only I had a sword. Wouldn’t someone lend me one?’

Namgung Myung glanced around desperately. But the Three Swords of Nogun, busy with the master, had no spare swords to lend.

He thought he might be able to snatch one from them if he reached out from behind, but even he knew that was a crazy idea.

As the battle on both sides seemed to be heading in a dire direction, Danglang of the Three Swords of Nogun made a reckless move.

He didn’t dodge the master’s sword aimed at his abdomen but took it head-on.

Thud.

An action without warning or explanation. Pyochung shouted in shock.

“Danglang!”

But Danglang paid no heed, advancing toward the master with the sword still embedded in his belly. With each step, the master’s sword twisted inside him.

The master laughed.

“In the end, the only strategy a novice can think of against a master is mutual destruction.”

As the master tried to withdraw his sword, Danglang’s hand gently twisted, capturing the master’s hand. It was a high-level technique.

Danglang grinned.

“The Tenfold Silk of Wudang is said to be unparalleled.”

In the brief moment the master’s actions were restricted, Sanjeo acted more boldly.

Lowering his stance, he charged like a boar at the master and Danglang, who hadn’t yet withdrawn his sword.

His intent was clear: to send both himself and the master, along with his brother Danglang, over the cliff.

Sensing the danger, the master tried to pull away, but a surge of internal energy erupted from Danglang’s body. He had drawn upon his true essence.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The master’s elbow struck Danglang’s chin, but Danglang held on, gripping the master even tighter.

Then the master felt a dull impact below his waist. Sanjeo had rammed into them both.

‘Damn it, you—’

As they were flung off the cliff, the master desperately tore away Danglang’s arm.

Simultaneously, he kicked off Sanjeo’s body in mid-air, managing to grab onto a small tree halfway down the cliff.

‘I didn’t expect both of them to go for mutual destruction.’

The master turned his head to watch Danglang and Sanjeo plummet. Their eyes were filled with nothing but sorrow. Those two were certainly done for.

The master surveyed his surroundings. Fortunately, there were enough protruding rocks to climb back up the cliff if he timed his movements right.

Luckily, Pyochung, who was above the cliff, had no way to attack him from below.

‘In the end, it worked out well.’

As the master busily climbed the cliff, the situation above changed slightly.

“Danglang!”

At the moment Pyochung’s cry echoed, a simple sword appeared beside Namgung Myung, who had been desperately searching for one. It was the sword Danglang had thrown in his bid for mutual destruction.

Without even processing the situation, Namgung Myung instinctively grabbed the sword.

The feel of the hilt was both unfamiliar and familiar after such a long time.

Jo Gwan sneered at the sight.

“Do you think holding a sword will change anything for someone who only knows martial arts?”

Jo Gwan thrust his spear again.

Namgung Myung thought he should block the spear with his sword, but he couldn’t bring himself to raise it.

Perhaps it was because he hadn’t touched a sword in a year, or maybe the sword felt so foreign after such a long time. He didn’t know how to execute the Namgung family’s sword techniques he had practiced to exhaustion.

Struggling, Namgung Myung twisted his body to evade the spear. Jo Gwan’s spearhead grazed his thigh, tearing the flesh.

Yet Namgung Myung felt no pain. Instead, he felt breathless.

All the martial arts he thought had become second nature now seemed foreign. It felt as if everything he had learned was shattering. No, it wasn’t a gentle disassembly; it was an explosion.

All the martial arts of the Namgung family he had learned exploded and then reassembled in his mind. Was this enlightenment?

But Namgung Myung’s enlightenment was interrupted by the memory of his father’s voice.

‘If I hear you’ve picked up a sword, I’ll cut off your arm.’

Fear of his father blocked Namgung Myung’s path. He felt like he should drop the sword immediately.

At that moment, Jo Gwan’s spear pierced through Namgung Myung’s left shoulder.

Thud—

Caught up in his thoughts, he had failed to move, and now the pain was vivid.

“Aaaargh!”

Namgung Myung thought, What the hell am I supposed to do?

Is my father the problem now? Is it my arm? If I keep worrying about losing my arm, I’ll end up with a hole in my neck! My shoulder’s already got a hole, so losing an arm doesn’t feel like much of a loss!

In that moment, Namgung Myung realized why he hadn’t been able to move forward.

He had been shackled by the burden of not wanting to betray people’s expectations.

But Namgung Myung had been shedding that burden and compulsion, leaping over walls freely.

The familiarity that had become ingrained to the point of nausea had been holding him back.

But over the past year, by not holding a sword, he had shaken off that inertia.

Finally, the fear and pressure from his father.

He cast them off with the pain and resolve of this moment.

Whether he lost an arm or not, he was ready to let things happen as they would.

Namgung Myung’s right arm trembled. He felt like he could do something.

He felt he could execute the most familiar sword technique he had learned, the Namgung family’s pride, the Changgoong Muae Sword Technique, to its highest level.

‘No, execute the most familiar technique?’

The answer he reached after shedding familiarity couldn’t be familiarity itself.

The moment he thought that, Namgung Myung’s vision and senses expanded into a new realm.

Namgung Myung felt ‘something’ and saw beyond the wall that had been blocking him.

‘I’m crossing… no, surpassing the wall.’

Namgung Myung realized which sword technique he should use.

It was the technique his father had said to learn only after reaching the pinnacle.

In other words, it was a technique Namgung Myung had never learned. He had only glimpsed it when some of the elders of the family demonstrated it.

‘To think I’d end up stealing and learning a technique I was bound to acquire anyway.’

And that made it all the more thrilling. Namgung Myung felt an inexplicable excitement.

A sword technique he had never learned unfolded through Namgung Myung’s sword. It was a technique completely different from the precise, measured swordplay he had practiced until now.

The swordsmanship was so overwhelmingly powerful that it defied the expectations of a righteous warrior. It was the pinnacle of tyrannical swordplay—The Imperial Sword Form.

The emperor’s blade crushed its opponent with unyielding force.