Episode 224: The Return of All Things
Tang Mujin was not an overly optimistic person.
So when he decided to send letters across the entire martial world, he didn’t hold high hopes for their success. If the letters worked, great; if not, there was nothing he could do about it.
He sent carrier pigeons to the major sects, thinking that if they passed the message to just a couple of mid-sized sects, it would be a success.
After all, those with high pride tend to be tight-lipped and reserved.
If things went well, the major and many mid-sized sects that received the letters wouldn’t question the whereabouts of the Blood Rain Guest in the coming years.
Of course, there might be some ignorant fools who would try to cause trouble. But they could be easily dealt with.
If things went well, the Blood Rain Guest could enjoy a relatively peaceful retirement within the orthodox sects’ territory.
That was the extent of Tang Mujin and his friends’ plan.
After much deliberation, Tang Mujin completed the letter and showed it to his friends.
Namgung Myung and Hong Geolgae were reasonably satisfied, but Hyun Gong expressed a small concern.
“Doesn’t it feel a bit lacking?”
“What do you mean?”
“I feel like people might not take it seriously. Let me add a couple of lines.”
Hyun Gong added a story at the beginning of the letter: “If you pass this letter to seven people, good fortune will come your way. If not, misfortune will follow.”
The actual content was a bit longer, but the essence remained the same.
“Do you think this will work?”
“Of course it will.”
“Think about it logically. People aren’t fools. They won’t fall for something like this.”
“Trust me.”
Hyun Gong was confident, but Tang Mujin thought it was nonsense.
However, contrary to Tang Mujin’s belief, there were plenty of gullible people in the world, and even more who didn’t want to risk a vague sense of unease.
As people began to associate minor strokes of luck or misfortune with the letter, its influence spread far beyond expectations.
The letters reached not only mid-sized sects but also smaller sects and even individuals.
It proved that Hyun Gong was much better at reading people than Tang Mujin.
As a result, the number of outsiders gathering near the Tang Manor became too significant to ignore.
And this was just the beginning. The influx of outsiders was increasing at a pace that even surprised Tang Mujin and his friends.
“Blood Rain Guest, didn’t you say you hadn’t made any enemies?”
“That’s true. Most of the people gathering here are strangers to me.”
“Then why are they gathering?”
“I have no idea.”
The area around the Tang Manor was bustling like a marketplace, but despite the crowd, no real problems arose.
Occasionally, martial artists from other regions would grumble over drinks, saying things like, “How dare a demonic sect member reform!” but that was the extent of it.
No one criticized the Blood Rain Guest to his face, nor did anyone challenge him to a life-and-death duel over past grudges.
It was then that Tang Mujin realized what was happening.
“Could they all be just spectators?”
It was a fortunate turn of events. The more witnesses, the better.
But the Blood Rain Guest couldn’t completely relax.
He had set a deadline for the end of the year, so if anything were to happen, it would likely be around then.
As the days grew colder, the Blood Rain Guest grew more anxious.
The season shifted from autumn to winter. The Blood Rain Guest remained at the Tang Manor, teaching martial arts to those who sought his guidance.
He hadn’t taken on a second disciple after Nam Woong, his former enemy. He simply offered his teachings freely to anyone within the Tang Manor’s walls who asked.
The Blood Rain Guest felt this was the only way to repay the kindness of Tang Mujin and his friends.
Despite the incredible opportunity to learn from a martial arts master, the Blood Rain Guest’s teachings weren’t particularly popular.
Though his skills were formidable, the foundation of his martial arts was crude, relying heavily on instinct.
A great martial artist doesn’t necessarily make a great teacher.
The Blood Rain Guest was sparring with Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myung in a two-on-one match.
After another victory, the Blood Rain Guest asked Hong Geolgae, “What was that move called again? The one with the sudden strike…”
“It’s called ‘Sudden Strike’ from the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms.”
“And the next move was ‘Shaking the Earth,’ right?”
“Yes.”
Hong Geolgae’s habit of calling out move names had one advantage: it made reviewing the sparring sessions easier.
“In that situation, when you counter with ‘Shaking the Earth,’ it might be better to execute the move like this, with this kind of feeling.”
The Blood Rain Guest demonstrated a slightly altered version of the move Hong Geolgae had used.
He didn’t seem to care about appearances, adopting a somewhat awkward and peculiar stance.
While it had elements of the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, the differences were even more pronounced.
Hong Geolgae wasn’t sure if it was right to call such a move part of the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms.
“I never thought of executing the move that way. It’s unfamiliar.”
“If that doesn’t feel right, how about responding like this, with this kind of approach?”
The Blood Rain Guest demonstrated a move that didn’t exist in the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms.
It would have been highly effective in the sparring match, but the form was unrefined, making it seem somewhat clumsy.
“What do you call that move?”
“It doesn’t have a name. But I think it would be effective if executed with this feeling.”
“I’ll try it next time I get the chance.”
Of course, the likelihood of Hong Geolgae successfully replicating the Blood Rain Guest’s teachings was low. The Blood Rain Guest’s martial arts were fundamentally different from others.
The martial arts of demonic sect members are known for their practicality, but they’re generally considered less refined than those of the orthodox sects.
Even compared to other demonic sect members, the Blood Rain Guest’s martial arts were extreme.
In comparison, the martial arts of the Three-Eyed Buddha were refined enough to be considered on par with those of a prestigious orthodox sect. After all, hadn’t the Three-Eyed Buddha learned the basics by secretly studying at the Shaolin Temple?
In contrast, the foundation of the Blood Rain Guest’s martial arts was so weak that even Hong Geolgae could recognize it.
Hong Geolgae dared to ask, “Blood Rain Guest, sir.”
“Yes?”
“How accomplished was your master?”
“He claimed to be first-rate, but I think he fell just short of that. He was probably on the verge of transitioning from second-rate to first-rate.”
In other words, the Blood Rain Guest had reached the realms of first-rate, pinnacle, and transcendent through talent, intuition, and life-or-death experiences alone. Was that even possible?
“Did you ever have another master?”
“I never had another master. But I did secretly observe others’ training and often imitated their martial arts. I suppose you could say they were all my masters.”
Namgung Myung, who had been listening quietly, asked, “I knew your martial arts were a mix of various styles, but I can’t understand how you achieved such mastery. How is that possible?”
“What don’t you understand?”
“Ultimately, martial arts mastery isn’t about how many styles you’ve learned, but how deeply you’ve mastered them. Yet your martial arts are different. They’re innovative and fresh, but lack profundity.”
Few people are as skilled as Namgung Myung at learning others’ martial arts.
Namgung Myung had learned numerous martial arts. He could convincingly mimic Hong Geolgae’s Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms and even Hyun Gong’s Tai Chi Sword.
But the martial arts he learned in this way never went beyond the realm of curiosity.
Namgung Myung’s Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms weren’t as solid as Hong Geolgae’s, and his Tai Chi Sword couldn’t be compared to the seamless mastery of Hyun Gong or Elder Yeongbo.
Moreover, sword techniques that didn’t harmonize with his internal energy techniques lost their power, making it difficult to go beyond curiosity and skill.
Knowing this, Namgung Myung always relied on the Namgung family’s sword techniques in critical moments.
The Sky-Cleaving Sword Technique and the Imperial Sword Form were the techniques Namgung Myung had mastered most deeply.
Even if a martial artist possesses ten sword techniques, in the most urgent moments, they can only wield one.
That’s why Namgung Myung had stopped learning others’ martial arts at some point.
But the Blood Rain Guest was different in many ways.
He had excellent movement techniques and swift swordplay, but each move was crude. His swordplay seemed disorganized, as if he were switching between ten different sword techniques.
Until he met the Blood Rain Guest, Namgung Myung was convinced that such an approach couldn’t lead to mastery, that the depth of one’s martial arts was more important than the variety.
But the Blood Rain Guest had proven his method by reaching the transcendent realm. It was an outcome Namgung Myung couldn’t comprehend.
The Blood Rain Guest said to Namgung Myung, “Of course, the depth of martial arts is important. But if you learn many styles, you can discover the direction you need to go. And knowing your direction is crucial.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
The Blood Rain Guest paused to think before explaining.
“What do you think the significance of the pinnacle and transcendent realms is?”
“The pinnacle is the stage where one solidifies their domain beyond the boundary, and the transcendent realm is the ultimate stage of martial arts.”
Hong Geolgae agreed with Namgung Myung’s assessment.
But the Blood Rain Guest firmly disagreed.
“No, you’re completely mistaken.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you advance to the pinnacle realm, you think you’ve reached beyond the pinnacle wall, right?”
“Isn’t that the case?”
“Absolutely not.”
The Blood Rain Guest’s explanation flowed more smoothly than usual, as if he had pondered this many times before.
“It’s not a wall, it’s a fence. A martial artist who reaches the pinnacle doesn’t ‘arrive’ in a realm reserved for the chosen. Instead, they step over a small fence and face a vast world. Yes, it’s more accurate to say they’ve ‘left’ the confines of the wall.”
Hong Geolgae looked puzzled, clearly not grasping the concept.
But Namgung Myung had a gut feeling. This insight was the greatest treasure he could glean from the Blood Rain Guest.
Something far more significant than swinging a sword a few more times or mastering a few more techniques.
“So, what do you believe lies beyond the ultimate peak, sir?”
“It’s the moment when someone who has stepped beyond the small fence discovers their destination. Ah, there’s a path over there. That’s the way to go. The moment they find their direction, the martial artist at the peak moves on to the next level.”
Namgung Myung felt dizzy.
As far as he knew, and as most martial artists believed, the ultimate peak was the end of martial arts mastery.
He thought that with just one more step, he could reach the end. But the Blood Rain Guest directly contradicted his belief.
“Are you saying the ultimate peak isn’t the destination?”
“Exactly. The ultimate peak isn’t the destination; it’s the starting point. When someone finds the direction of their destination and stands at the starting point, people call that the ultimate peak.”
“Do you believe there’s a level beyond the ultimate peak, a realm no one has reached before?”
“Of course. I firmly believe such a realm exists. And the way you approach the next stage of martial arts will likely be similar to mine.”
“And what way is that?”
The Blood Rain Guest smiled gently.
“You and I are alike. We’re men who have mastered a hundred swords. The difference is, you enjoyed collecting swords, so you mastered a hundred of them. I had to gather a hundred because the ones I inherited weren’t reliable. But in the end, we’ll walk the same path.”
“What path is that?”
“Observe where the hundred swords you hold, the countless martial arts, point. When one person walks alone, they can’t know if the path is right or wrong. But if a hundred men, each searching for their own path, start moving in the same direction, there must be a destination there.”
The Blood Rain Guest gripped Namgung Myung’s shoulders firmly as he spoke.
“Some will find their path by luck, some because they’ve mastered the world’s greatest martial arts. Others will find it through pure talent. But those like you and me, with insight and keen observation, can gauge the destination by seeing where others are headed.”
Namgung Myung’s temples throbbed.
Every word from the Blood Rain Guest seemed to etch itself into his mind.
“Martial artists before you have spoken of the convergence of all paths, the ‘Manryugwijong.’ There won’t be a clue as vast as that in the world. I understood the meaning of Manryugwijong far too early.”
The Blood Rain Guest paused, then continued.
“You can examine a hundred paths. Gauge where the hundred paths you’ve mastered lead. Engrave Manryugwijong in your heart, and find the path that leads you to your destination. Only then can you stand at the starting point.”
Finally, the Blood Rain Guest spoke with a voice full of regret.
“But don’t rush. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”
Namgung Myung stood up abruptly and leaned against a tree inside the Tang family’s courtyard wall.
He didn’t sit cross-legged, nor did he sheathe his sword, instead planting it in the ground.
Then, with his eyes closed, he fell into deep thought.
His mind was a whirlwind.
The Namgung family’s sword techniques. The stolen Hangryong Eighteen Palms. The Taiji Sword and the Self-Heart Sword learned for fun. Crude sword techniques with no name. Fist techniques. Footwork and grappling arts.
At a glance, they seemed to be heading in different directions, chaotically.
Yet, the insights contained in these countless martial arts pointed somewhere. A faint but definite direction.
Namgung Myung gazed in that direction.
Somewhere out there lay the convergence of all paths that so many masters had spoken of.
A point where countless threads tangled together. A vast lake formed by small streams and wide rivers.
Namgung Myung’s heart raced. If he ran with all his might from here, he felt he could step into the next realm.
To break through the ultimate peak’s barrier in just four years since entering the pinnacle. To step into the realm he had dreamed of. To stand shoulder to shoulder with his father at the age of twenty-six.
But Namgung Myung stopped himself.
He could sense the direction of the destination, but he hadn’t yet found his own path to reach it.
He could force his way toward the next realm.
He could push through thickets and scale cliffs to get there. Even doing just that might allow him to enter the ultimate peak’s realm.
But once he took that path, he would never find the right way. He would never be able to see the realm beyond the ultimate peak. Once the threads tangled, they could never be unraveled.
Namgung Myung understood the Blood Rain Guest’s final words, the warning not to rush.
The Blood Rain Guest hadn’t known this and had hurriedly reached the ultimate peak. But he couldn’t move forward from there.
He had shared his hard-earned lesson with Namgung Myung.
So Namgung Myung took a step back. He had no intention of stopping at the threshold of the ultimate peak like the Blood Rain Guest.
Thus, Namgung Myung didn’t reach the ultimate peak. But he didn’t regret it.
Namgung Myung opened his eyes only after a full day had passed.
In front of him, his three friends sat with serious expressions.
Their gazes met.
After a brief silence, Hong Geolgae spoke on behalf of the group.
“Namgung Myung.”
“What?”
“Don’t tell me… you’ve reached the ultimate peak?”
Namgung Myung shook his head.
He had gained insight, but he hadn’t reached the ultimate peak.
”…That’s a relief.”
His three friends, especially Hong Geolgae, sighed with genuine relief.
In response, Namgung Myung launched a sincere Explosive Thunder Fist at Hong Geolgae, but Hong Geolgae smoothly twisted his waist to dodge the punch.
He had anticipated the attack since the day before, so it wasn’t difficult.
“Too slow.”
Hong Geolgae turned away triumphantly.
Namgung Myung genuinely regretted not breaking through the ultimate peak’s barrier.