WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Chen

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Martial Genius who Remembers Everything ◈

Chapter 280: Night of the Greedy

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Starting the next day, Saryeon joined the hellish march as well.

She wore iron rings on her hands and feet, with steel plates sewn into the bottom row of her weighted vest.

Sweat poured down her body with every step, enough to make it hard to believe it was midwinter. The moment she finished eating, Empty Hunger struck again.

After spending the daylight hours training through that mad march, they took turns sparring with Jin Sowoon while preparing camp for the night.

“Geumpyo, you bastard! Your waist! Your core is wide open! If you want to use a shield, your base has to support it properly. Go train your lower body again!”

“Twin Heavens Sword Art? Since when did Eunho start pretending to be an expert? Do you think having more techniques is all there is to it?”

“Dongryong, you bastard! No matter what, you still need to defend yourself! Or make sure you don't leave any openings to attack in the first place!”

“Saryeon! What the hell did you do after coming to the Academy half a year early? Hold your sword properly!”

Once they had all finished a round of sparring, their hunger vanished along with their appetites.

Unlike them...

“Why aren't you eating? I put loads of jerky in it. It's delicious.”

Watching their Head Disciple blow on his porridge because it was so hot made them sigh.

‘What the hell did he eat to become that strong?’

‘The gap in our skill wasn't this huge just a few years ago.’

‘And he was running all over the place. He didn't even have time to train.’

‘This is exhausting...’

They knew they had to eat to survive, so they forced down a few spoonfuls. Yet their startled stomachs sent the food right back out.

After vomiting, it felt as if they would never be able to eat again.

“You should still eat. If you want to survive tomorrow, you'd better force it down whether you like it or not.”

Their Head Disciple chuckled as he ate meat porridge, apparently enjoying himself.

Just as he said, the consequences of failing to eat enough the day before hit them in full force the next day.

“Huff, huff, k-kill me!”

“Want me to really kill you?”

“...Fuck...”

Whenever they collapsed, saying they couldn't continue, a beating followed along with chilling killing intent.

Once their hearts began pounding wildly from that killing intent, their bodies moved on their own no matter how much they hated it.

As this continued, the Taeul Sect disciples began to wonder whether they should truly run away and hide in some mountain valley.

“I'd rather drink Sichuan Tang Clan poison than stay with Head Disciple...”

“Senior Sister... You can't lose your m... Blegh.”

“Oh? You're talking? Looks like you still have energy to spare. Weight increase!”

“...”

Training was good. Getting stronger was good. Still, didn't they need to survive first?

Besides, the training only grew harsher with every passing day.

Unable to bear it any longer, Eunho protested.

“Head Disciple, why do we keep taking mountain paths?”

His head was already ready to burst from memorizing all three hundred and sixty-five footwork traces of the Peerless Wanderer Divine Art, yet that damned Head Disciple kept leading them through the mountains.

“Do you plan to use movement arts only on official roads? If so, why learn movement arts at all? Just ride a horse.”

Eunho was so dumbfounded by the answer that he couldn't speak.

No, wasn't that something to consider after learning it properly first?

This was like telling a child who had just begun standing to learn footwork.

What kind of person was he?

Then his Head Disciple said something even more absurd.

“Why practice separately? If you practice on mountain paths from the beginning, you won't need to practice on official roads.”

“...”

Was it true that people lost the will to speak after hearing something too absurd?

As Eunho gave a hollow laugh, having lost even the desire to respond to his Head Disciple's extreme obsession with efficiency...

“Hm?”

Jin Sowoon turned his head to one side.

Eunho asked uneasily, “W-what is it?”

“A fight! I think there's a fight going on!”

“What?”

His Head Disciple's cheeks flushed as if he were a child who had found a new toy.

“I can hear weapons clashing!”

...What was wrong with this man?

“Uh... I see.”

Hearing weapons clash in the mountains likely meant someone was trying to subjugate a bandit gang.

Or perhaps two sects had gotten into a dispute and were fighting.

Either way, it had nothing to do with them...

“Get up! Let's go!”

“W-where?”

“A fight this deep in the mountains is likely against bandits. We should go take a look.”

That was exactly it. Why were they going there when someone was fighting bandits?

“Let's go! Let's go!!”

No one could stop their Head Disciple once he began rampaging like a colt with its tail on fire.

“Haah...”

“My miserable life...”

“Should we really run away?”

“I told you, drinking poison would be better. Sob.”

With their shoulders slumped, the four of them began following Jin Sowoon.

“Hurry up!”

“...Yeees.”

The road home was truly colorful in the worst possible way.

#

Once the autumn harvest ended and farmers who had stored grain and possessions began living through the winter on the fruits of the year, bandit gangs swarmed out to target their pockets.

Among the Black Path, many people became bandits only during winter, and the government even formed separate units to stop them.

Unlike the Green Forest, they moved solely to plunder, making them targets for outright subjugation.

Government troops tried to eliminate them every year, but there were limits. Many bandit gangs survived by colluding with corrupt officials, so righteous martial sects sometimes carried out subjugation campaigns themselves.

“Amitabha...”

Like the five monks currently standing against a bandit gang of nearly a hundred.

Ilgak, dressed in yellow robes with his palms pressed together, gently extended one hand.

Golden radiance burst from his palm and blossomed like clouds, enveloping twenty bandits at once.

“W-what?”

“What is this?!”

“Urgh! I can't move! I can't get out...!”

As if tied by thick ropes, the bandits couldn't move at all. Then their bodies rose into the air at the same time and flew nearly twenty feet away.

Thud.

The bandits tumbled to the ground without warning and dropped their weapons, utterly bewildered.

An overwhelming force had clearly wrapped around them, yet no one had been injured by it.

They had only dropped their weapons because their movements had not been their own.

That also meant their opponent had not put killing intent into the attack.

Gulp.

In other words, if killing intent had been present, no one standing there would have remained unharmed.

“I do not wish for meaningless killing. Please lay down your weapons.”

The bandits who had received Ilgak's first move froze as if their paralysis acupoints had been struck.

Still, anyone who could see their comrades and learn from another's mistakes would never have become a bandit in the first place.

The other bandits, unable to understand the intent behind Ilgak's move, fearlessly rushed at the Shaolin Temple monks.

“Die, you damned bald monks!”

“I'll send you to paradise!”

“Idiots, there are only five of them! What are you scared of?”

Trusting in their numerical advantage, the bandits charged together.

Ilgak briefly closed his half-lidded eyes, then opened them and spoke.

“Do not use excessive force. They must be punished under the laws of the land.”

“Yes!”

The four monks standing behind Ilgak moved at once.

One used fists and kicks, another palm arts, another picked up a branch and used staff arts, while the last faced the bandits with claw arts.

The bandits fell one after another, as naturally as water flowing around stones.

It almost looked as if the Shaolin monks were demonstrating martial arts while the bandits played along by falling at the right moments.

Of course, the Taeul Sect disciples watching from the ridge knew that could not possibly be true.

“...”

“So this is what it means to be on a different level.”

This was the depth of Shaolin.

It showed that their martial arts had reached a realm where the techniques used in real combat did not differ from those displayed in training.

“What is this...?”

Every martial artist knew how enormous the gap was between a technique's principle and its application in actual combat.

That was why some sects pursued practical combat through their martial arts, while others created separate combat arts entirely.

From that perspective, Shaolin martial arts had a tremendous gap when used directly in real battle. At the same time, it meant Shaolin disciples had reached a level high enough to fully bridge that gap.

“Ilgak...”

Among them, Ilgak stood out the most.

He subdued the bandits using only the simplest movements.

Each time he moved a hand or foot, another bandit fell. Just as he had said, none suffered excessive injuries.

Could they do the same in that situation?

The same question arose in the minds of every Taeul Sect disciple.

The answer came easily.

‘Impossible.’

Subduing someone without injury was several times harder than killing them.

Especially when their opponents were attacking with the intent to kill.

Unless there was a difference like that between an infant and an adult, it was impossible.

Yet Ilgak did it with complete ease.

They had briefly forgotten his true worth because Jin Sowoon was always mocking and criticizing him. Seeing his divine skill anew sent chills down their spines.

As the Taeul Sect disciples stared in a daze...

“Damn it...”

A curse ground out through clenched teeth reached them.

Eunho turned his head and found Jin Sowoon wearing a deeply resentful expression.

‘Does Head Disciple feel jealousy too?’

It was a human side of their Head Disciple they had not seen in a long time.

He had once defeated Ilgak in a match.

The shock at the time had been immense.

It had been entirely unexpected, and it had caused a stir throughout the area.

Yet seeing his Head Disciple apparently forget that victory and feel overwhelmed by the difference in level between himself and Ilgak made Eunho's nose sting for some reason...

“That bald bastard got there first! No, why is someone who should be in Henan Province all the way out here?”

Huh? Did I hear that wrong...?

“Damn it, those bald bastards will hand all the bandits over to the government troops... Then what happens to the treasure... Aaargh! What a waste, fuck!”

Ah, he wasn't upset over the difference in their levels?

Eunho's face somehow went blank.

After swearing for a while, Jin Sowoon turned his head.

“Hm? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You look like you have no soul.”

“That's not true...”

As if he didn't care whether Eunho had a soul in his eyes or not, his Head Disciple spun back around.

“My stomach hurts. If we'd come just a little earlier, all that treasure would have been...”

Right... This was the kind of person he was...

“But...”

“Hm?”

Eunho was about to voice the question that had come to mind, then firmly closed his mouth again.

“Nothing.”

“What a letdown. Still, how much do you think all that is worth...?”

Eunho swallowed his question.

‘If Head Disciple robs bandits, isn't that a matter of professional courtesy?’

After all, Jin Sowoon undeniably owned a thriving mountain stronghold called the Black Dragon Stronghold.

Ah, the position of Black Dragon Stronghold's leader did suit him better than Academy Representative...

“Aaargh! Once the semester starts, I'll put at least twelve more holes in that bald bastard's scalp. Just wait and see.”

“...”

Of course, he found that fact horrifyingly unpleasant.

#

After Ilgak and the Shaolin Temple monks subdued the bandits, they exchanged greetings with the Taeul Sect disciples.

Naturally, Jin Sowoon suggested that they distribute the treasure to the people rather than send it to the government office, but Ilgak casually dismissed the suggestion.

They argued for a while because of it, but it soon ended peacefully.

“Then I shall see you next semester, Benefactor Jin. Namo Amitabha...”

“They really think they're the only clean ones.”

“Head Disciple...”

After somehow exchanging farewells with the Shaolin Temple disciples, who had to continue their journey of guidance, they parted ways.

That night, none of the Taeul Sect disciples went to sleep.

“...”

“...”

“...”

They were martial artists by nature.

The lingering images of the Shaolin Temple monks they had seen during the day would not leave their minds.

And when junior disciples were lost in thought like this, the person who should normally offer them advice was...

“Smack, smack. Why are you all eating so halfheartedly?”

He was enjoying the most delicious dinner they had had yet, made from meat taken from the bandits' storehouse rather than their treasure.

Saryeon finally spoke first.

“Aren't you amazed, Senior Brother?”

“By what?”

“Shaolin's depth.”

Jin Sowoon sucked the grease from his fingers, then snorted.

“I thought it was something serious. Why would that amaze me?”

“...It just felt like... Shaolin really is Shaolin.”

She couldn't explain it exactly.

Still, the dignity in every one of their movements showed that their history was not something shallow.

It was not merely a difference in the extent of their training.

Their martial arts contained history.

Martial arts passed down through generations for hundreds of years, developed and changed until they reached their peak.

Though they knew Shaolin was not an enemy, they were martial artists. They instinctively measured them.

If Shaolin were their enemy, could they win?

Saryeon wanted to know the answer to that question.

“Could Taeul Sect martial arts defeat Shaolin?”

“Smack, smack. Didn't I already show you that we could win?”

Swallow the food in your mouth before answering...

“Huh? Didn't you see it? I was incredible.”

“...”

He was clearly referring to defeating Ilgak during the last practical examination.

“But that wasn't Taeul Sect martial arts...”

“What are you talking about?”

“We know. You received separate instruction from the great hero Buk Wonpyeong of the Three Purities Sect...”

Jin Sowoon looked at the dejected Saryeon, snapped off a piece of wood to make a toothpick, and picked his teeth.

“What are you all talking about? I only learned the form and pattern. The energy itself was mine, you idiots.”

“What?!”

“What does that mean?!”

Jin Sowoon scoffed at their reactions.

“Were you so worried about that you couldn't even eat?”

“That was part of it...”

Saryeon let out a long sigh.

“I'm feeling our limits again. Shaolin has hundreds of martial arts, including the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts, right? Mount Hua and Wudang Sect also have at least a hundred martial arts each. In comparison, Taeul Sect...”

They had recovered the Greater Heaven Sword Art and Twin Heavens Sword Art, which combined the Lesser Heaven and Greater Heaven martial arts, along with the Taeul True Scripture. They also had the Myriad Blossoms Invincible Fist and the supreme Ten Thousand Seas Heaven and Earth Sword Art.

Even so, they were lacking badly in sheer variety.

For example, Geumpyo, who wielded a shield, could no longer freely use the Ten Thousand Seas Heaven and Earth Sword Art. Dongryong had mainly used the Lesser Heaven Sword Art when facing enemies.

The absolute number of martial arts was not proportional to a sect's absolute fighting strength. Yet limitations in martial arts restricted disciples from spreading their own wings.

“...”

Geumpyo, Eunho, Dongryong, and Saryeon all looked gloomy, apparently agreeing with her words.

Compared to the days when they had nothing, this was a luxurious complaint. Yet the children who wanted to rise as high as anyone else still carried a deep thirst in their hearts.

Then...

“What the hell are you all talking about?”

Their Head Disciple sounded utterly dumbfounded.

They expected him to say something obvious, such as:

- Be grateful for what you have.

- Think about the old days.

But instead...

“They say people fail to see the gold in their hands while searching for silver. That's exactly what you idiots are doing.”

“...What?”

The four of them jerked their heads up.

Gold clearly referred to Taeul Sect martial arts, while silver referred to Shaolin martial arts...

No matter how much he loved his own sect's martial arts, wasn't it too much to compare them to Shaolin?

As the junior disciples stood there in stunned confusion...

“Tsk, tsk. How can you be so stupid? Taeul Sword Emperor, your descendants are this stupid... Ah, myself excluded, of course.”

Jin Sowoon thumped his chest as if he were overcome with grief or choking up when Eunho cautiously asked, “Head Disciple... Could you explain a little more?”

Please, let us understand too.

No, seeing him so frustrated made it seem as though there really was something to it.

“Tsk. Why do you think the Taeul True Scripture is called the Taeul True Scripture?”

“Well... Because that is its name...”

“Exactly. Why did our martial ancestor name it the Taeul True Scripture instead of the Taeul Divine Art?”

“...”

“Oh, Taeul Sword Emperor.”

After wailing again, Jin Sowoon's eyes changed.

“Taeul refers to the origin from which all things in heaven and earth are born and formed. The Taeul True Scripture is, from the beginning, the study of all creation.”

When the four of them only blinked, unable to understand, Jin Sowoon added, “Isn't it strange? Compared to the Taeul Sword Emperor's divine feats passed down by word of mouth, the Taeul True Scripture's destructive power is absurdly weak.”

It was strange.

Its energy was pure and stable, but compared to the Nine Sects One Gang or Five Great Clans, it gathered internal energy slowly and had no especially powerful trait.

The difference was too large to explain as rumors growing exaggerated over time.

Then Jin Sowoon casually offered them a clue.

“The Taeul True Scripture was never a cultivation method to begin with. It is only the study of Taeul.”

“Then... what we learned is...”

Jin Sowoon's serious voice turned into a wail again.

“Oh, my. My junior disciples have been diligently licking only the outside of a watermelon and claiming they don't know its taste.”

No, then explain it clearly.

“The study of the Taeul True Scripture has neither form nor pattern to begin with. The martial arts left behind by the Taeul Sword Emperor are simply the ones most similar to the study of the Taeul True Scripture.”

“...What martial art in the world has no form or pattern?”

Every sect's martial arts had an internal cultivation method that formed their foundation.

And only when those two blended perfectly did they produce great power.

“That is why it is so incredible. To build this much of a path without form or pattern. The lack of form and pattern is a blessing for all of you.”

Jin Sowoon spoke passionately, but the four of them still looked unable to believe him.

“Watch carefully. This is a study I have built recently.”

After saying that, Jin Sowoon closed his eyes for a moment.

Just as they were about to wake him, wondering what he was doing in the middle of a conversation...

“...!”

A chilling sword intent ran down their spines, making them turn their heads in alarm.

“Gasp!”

“Huh!”

“What is this?!”

Before the four of them was the Black Dragon Sword, identical to Jin Sowoon's own sword, targeting each of their vital points.

Their Head Disciple had not even touched his sword...

When had he drawn it? How was the sword floating in the air by itself without its master?

The moment those thoughts arose...

“Hm?”

The Black Dragon Sword crumbled into dust.

A groan followed from Jin Sowoon.

“Ugh... As expected, I still have a long way to go.”

The four of them snapped their heads back and immediately examined the Black Dragon Sword resting neatly beside their Head Disciple.

It was still quietly sheathed.

Eunho shouted in shock, “What was that just now?”

It was a study no one had ever seen or heard of.

Jin Sowoon had not reached the realm of the Heart Sword or sword control at a distance, so what kind of mysterious feat had that been?

“It is my own study of the Taeul True Scripture.”

“Your own study?”

Jin Sowoon slowly nodded.

“Yes. This is the form of the ‘me’ that I imagine.”

“...”

“The reason I, a disciple of the Sword Hall, personally placed a shield in Geumpyo's hands, and said nothing even when Dongryong used a heavy sword...”

He looked at each of his junior disciples in turn.

“...is because every person imagines a different version of themselves.”

The four of them tried not to miss a single word from their Head Disciple.

Apparently pleased by that sight, a faint smile appeared on Jin Sowoon's lips.

“What is the doctrine of the Taeul Sect? Change. And the Taeul True Scripture is a study that will change such ‘you.’ Therefore, you must think and think again about what form you wish to change into.”

If he raised his junior disciples to be exactly like himself, they would reach the ranks of experts to some degree.

With enough preparation, he could make them survive the Demonic Cult.

But that would not truly carry on the Taeul Sword Emperor's will.

It would only preserve the name Taeul Sect.

He had to help each of them build their own Taeul.

That was why they trained even through this bitter winter.

After thinking for a while, the junior disciples asked cautiously, “...You mean we must do it ourselves?”

“Yes. The fact that I force you to train and lead you along is only the foundation. If you want to advance, you must change yourselves. And the Taeul True Scripture is a study that can fully keep pace with your change. This is something I can neither help nor interfere with.”

That was why he would carry on his martial ancestor's will.

Even if it took longer, even if it progressed more slowly, it was the right path.

Because he believed it was right.

“...So if we head in the direction we desire, a path will appear?”

“Yes.”

“Haah...”

Eunho felt anew how incredible the Taeul True Scripture was, but a question also came to mind.

“...Since when have you been walking that path, Head Disciple?”

Jin Sowoon only smiled without answering.

Thinking back, it had always been that way.

Except during the regular examination, their Head Disciple had never once told his disciples, “Do this.”

He had always gone ahead, only turning back occasionally to wait for them.

Even during the days when they struggled to keep up, blamed themselves, and remained in place, their Head Disciple had suppressed his frustration and waited for them to catch up.

Until they could understand for themselves.

He had waited patiently, enduring that frustration.

“Senior Brother...”

“Head Disciple...”

Their eyes brimmed with tears.

“I'm sorry. We didn't understand your deep intentions.”

“I won't complain that training is hard ever again.”

“I won't think about running away either.”

“I'll add another row of steel plates. Please work us even harder.”

Jin Sowoon snorted and held out the fully cooked meat.

“Fine, so hurry up and eat. You need to eat if you're going to train again tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“Yes!”

“I'll eat even if I don't want to!”

The four junior disciples could never have known that this brilliant gift of gab(?) had been learned from the bastards in the Sojeong Unit during his previous life.

‘Hehe... Kids really are easy to handle.’

Around the time the four of them began devouring meat again, unaware of their Head Disciple's dark(?) intentions, Jin Sowoon casually said, “...But you thought about running away?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

The four of them froze.

Their mouths were full of food, but the sound of their gulps was painfully loud.

For a moment, they had forgotten just how merciless their Head Disciple was.

“Your Head Disciple is suffering this much, yet instead of being grateful, you were planning to run away... Is that what you're saying?”

And how petty he could be.

Footnotes:

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