The Woo Sword Vies for Supremacy
Woo Geom-san's eyes opened of their own accord before the sun had even risen.
He glanced to the side and saw his master, Baek Ho-yang, sitting cross-legged, circulating his qi.
Woo Geom-san never knew when Baek Ho-yang slept or when he woke.
He had been awake before Woo Geom-san fell asleep, and whenever Woo Geom-san woke and looked around, the old man was always circulating his qi.
He was starting to suspect that his master might not sleep at all.
Watching Baek Ho-yang circulate his qi made Woo Geom-san want to do the same.
Woo Geom-san had been training in his family's martial arts since the age of six.
Woo Manor's martial arts were fast and ferocious.
In particular, their secret martial art, the Twelve Forms of Piercing Light, was a technique swift enough to cleave light itself.
At full mastery, it was a martial art so superb that finding a rival under heaven would be difficult—yet learning it was by no means easy.
Without exceptional talent to back it up, one could not even cross the threshold. That was how abstruse the Twelve Forms of Piercing Light was.
Woo Geom-san's talent was by no means poor.
Even while at Woo Manor, he had been called a prodigy. But he was not the kind of genius who would set the world abuzz.
There was a gap between him and a true genius—the kind who hears one thing and grasps ten, or even one and a hundred.
He was at the level of hearing one thing and knowing one.
Certainly that alone was impressive, but it was not enough to earn the right to learn Woo Manor's secret sword art, the Twelve Forms of Piercing Light.
By the family's rules, only the first half of the Twelve Forms of Piercing Light was disclosed to those of the direct bloodline; the second half could be learned only by the family head.
So he had long since given up on the Twelve Forms of Piercing Light and focused on fist techniques instead.
It was born of defiance.
If he could not learn Woo Manor's supreme sword art, he would master fist arts to surpass it.
Woo Geom-san had trained with merciless rigor.
He kept at it until the skin of his fists had peeled away dozens of times over, until the calluses on the backs of his hands had hardened to nail heads.
His fist arts were admittedly not as refined as Shaolin Temple's Hundred-Step Divine Art or Wudang Sect's Taiji Fist, but he had built his skills by learning fist techniques that were reasonably well-known in the secular world.
Thanks to that, he had made a fair name for himself in the region around Woo Manor as a young fist fighter. That was why he had been able to step forward when Woon Tae-ho approached his younger sister with talk of a political marriage.
Woon Tae-ho had been a miserable excuse for a man.
As a martial artist and as a human being.
Thanks to that, Woo Geom-san had beaten him easily.
And because of that, he had grown arrogant.
When river pirates attacked the boat he was riding, he had been confident he could handle them and chose to fight instead of flee.
Ordinary river pirates were no match for him.
The problem was the leader of the river pirates.
His face was concealed behind a mask, but his eyes were chillingly cold, and a blade-sharp aura was etched into the lines around them.
It was not the kind of presence a mere river pirate should possess.
Woo Geom-san was utterly crushed by the man.
His fists and qi center were destroyed, and he was thrown into the river.
Had Baek Ho-yang not happened to be passing nearby, he would have died just like that.
Woo Geom-san touched the area near his heart.
The sword wound, its scab not yet fallen away, was still palpable beneath his fingers.
Had the blade struck just an inch to the side, it would have pierced his heart and killed him instantly.
'This wound is the price of my arrogance. From now on, I must never overestimate myself and act recklessly again.'
Making that vow, Woo Geom-san sat cross-legged.
He intended to attempt qi circulation once more.
He closed his eyes and began circulating the Drifting Shadow Mental Art, one of his family's mental cultivation arts.
He concentrated his mind and sent the external qi drawn in through his breath toward his qi center.
The external qi that should have accumulated in his qi center scattered like mist and vanished without a trace.
Woo Geom-san tried to store his qi once more. But again, the external qi merely brushed past his qi center like a gentle breeze.
'Ha!'
A sigh escaped him on its own.
It was the same as before.
His damaged qi center could not hold the external qi he had painstakingly drawn in.
Like a jar with no bottom, the external qi leaked right through.
In this state, using inner arts was absolutely impossible.
Every martial art in the martial world was founded upon inner arts.
External arts without the support of inner arts were nothing more than flailing that only looked impressive on the surface.
Woo Geom-san looked over at Baek Ho-yang.
'What did Grandfather see in me that made him take me as a disciple? He can't be unaware that my qi center is damaged.'
It was Baek Ho-yang himself who had directly treated Woo Geom-san's qi center.
There was no way such a man would be ignorant of the boy's current condition.
Just then—
"The sound of you overthinking is so loud I can't circulate my qi."
Baek Ho-yang opened his eyes and looked at Woo Geom-san.
"I am...... sorry."
"Did you try circulating your qi again?"
"Yes!"
"From now on, never attempt qi circulation on your own. The more you try, the more frustrated you will become. Until I give you permission, it is absolutely forbidden. Understood?"
"Understood."
Woo Geom-san answered without protest.
Baek Ho-yang stood and spoke.
"Your body seems to have recovered well enough now, so let us leave this place."
"We are leaving?"
"We cannot stay here forever. Can you walk?"
"I can walk."
"Then follow me at your own pace. Do not push yourself."
"Yes!"
With his answer, Woo Geom-san rose to his feet.
Having gone so long without walking, his legs were stiff as wooden logs.
Just standing made them tremble.
Fortunately, his legs had not been injured like his hands, so he was able to find his balance quickly.
"Hoo......"
After drawing a deep breath, Woo Geom-san began to walk with care.
His body was still far from whole, so every step demanded extreme caution.
With wounds on his chest and lower abdomen, his upper body naturally curled forward.
It was an unconscious reflex to protect his injuries.
Walking slightly hunched over, Woo Geom-san pressed forward.
Baek Ho-yang watched his gait in silence.
He walked beside the boy, matching his pace and observing him closely.
The Guan Di shrine they had been staying in was deep within the mountains.
Naturally, the path was rough, and walking it was no easy task even for a healthy person. For Woo Geom-san, an invalid, it was all the harder. Yet he did not utter a single complaint and walked on in silence.
Sweat poured from his body like rain.
His face flushed red, and his breathing grew ragged almost at once.
He swayed as though he might collapse at any moment, yet Woo Geom-san did not stop walking.
After a long stretch, Woo Geom-san stumbled on a protruding stone and staggered, then fell.
"Aagh."
Toppling like a log, his body struck the ground and a cloud of dust billowed up around him.
Tears welled in the eyes of the boy sprawled on the ground.
More than the pain racking his entire body, what truly hurt him was how pathetic his body had become—so wretched that a mere stone could bring him down.
Only a short while ago, he had possessed a cat's superb balance and stamina.
He could run all day without tiring and clear any ordinary obstacle with ease. Yet here he was, unable to dodge a single small stone.
The damage to his qi center had robbed Woo Geom-san of even his outstanding sense of balance and physical ability.
Only now did it truly hit him.
The reality that he was broken beyond repair.
The knowledge that he could never go back to what he was before filled him with despair.
"Guh......"
His shoulders heaved.
He tried to hold it in, but the tears would not stop.
No matter how maturely he conducted himself, he was only fifteen years old.
The trial was far too great for a fifteen-year-old boy to bear.
Baek Ho-yang thought it only natural that Woo Geom-san would cry.
The trials Woo Geom-san had endured were not the kind a young boy could easily overcome. Had he hidden his emotions, that would have been far more worrisome.
Only someone who hits rock bottom can push off and rise again.
Likewise, only someone who releases every last feeling from the depths can begin anew with a fresh resolve.
Baek Ho-yang did not speak to Woo Geom-san, letting him cry to his heart's content.
Forgetting entirely that Baek Ho-yang was beside him, Woo Geom-san cried with all the grief in his body.
He did not know how long he had been crying.
Only when his tears dried up and would flow no more did he finally stop.
"Haah......"
He had wept so hard that his voice was completely hoarse.
Only then did Baek Ho-yang offer comfort.
"Do you feel better now?"
"......Yes."
"Well cried. You should cry when you can. Miss the chance, and the knots only tighten in your chest."
"I am sorry. I showed you a shameful sight."
Woo Geom-san's face reddened.
He was a man, after all, and the thought that he had bawled his eyes out with his guard completely down embarrassed him.
Baek Ho-yang smiled and patted Woo Geom-san's shoulder gently.
"There was nothing shameful about it. Is there any law that says a man must not cry? Crying is never something to be ashamed of."
"Still......"
"Everything you had built until now has crumbled, has it not? Your strength, your martial power, your senses—all gone. Of course the tears would come."
Baek Ho-yang's consolation brought tears rushing up again.
Woo Geom-san bit down hard on his lip and fought them back.
Baek Ho-yang held Woo Geom-san's body and lifted him to his feet.
"You can start over. You can learn to walk again from the beginning. Walking properly, breathing properly—we will learn it all from the ground up."
"Is there a specific way to walk properly and breathe properly?"
"Our Daoist tradition originally pursues longevity and immortality. We study how to live long and healthy lives. Walking properly and breathing properly help one live longer. And then you will be able to see more of those beautiful sights you spoke of. How does that sound—does it interest you?"
"Very much."
"Then that settles it. From now on, we will learn one thing at a time."
"Yes!"
Woo Geom-san nodded.
He was starting to think that Baek Ho-yang had not taken a crippled boy like him as a disciple without reason.
He did not yet know the true extent of Baek Ho-yang's abilities, but the fact alone that the old man had snatched him back from the very brink of the River of Three Crossings proved he was no ordinary man.
All Woo Geom-san had to do now was trust and follow Baek Ho-yang completely.
Baek Ho-yang spoke.
"From now on, walk behind me and follow."
"I just need to follow you as you walk?"
"Yes. Watch carefully how I walk, how I step upon the earth, and imitate it."
"Hmm."
"You will not understand right now. But if you keep imitating it, one day you will come to understand naturally."
"Understood."
Leaving Woo Geom-san behind, Baek Ho-yang stepped forward.
He walked with his back perfectly straight, moving with the ease of a man out for a leisurely stroll—yet the distance between them widened in an instant.
Baek Ho-yang's gait was markedly different from that of ordinary people.
But what exactly was different and how—that, Woo Geom-san could not articulate.
He could only sense that it was different, nothing more.
Baek Ho-yang stopped and waited for Woo Geom-san to catch up.
'Let me just try.'
Though he had not gleaned a single secret, Woo Geom-san walked regardless.
Far from imitating Baek Ho-yang's gait, he barely managed a few steps before he fell flat on his face again.
It was an ungainly tumble, but this time he did not cry as bitterly as before.
Woo Geom-san brushed the dust off and stood again, and walked.
Forcing himself to imitate Baek Ho-yang's stride threw his own gait into disarray.
Lurching and stumbling along, he looked like a child taking his very first steps.
In truth, Woo Geom-san was no different from an infant just learning to walk.
Insufficient leg strength, deteriorated balance, wounds that throbbed with every step.
Everything was at its worst.
And the worst of all was not knowing whether he was walking correctly.
"Haah! Haah!"
By the time he barely reached where Baek Ho-yang stood, he was already gasping for breath.
Baek Ho-yang praised him.
"Well done."
"......"
He could not fathom what he had done well, but Woo Geom-san nodded unconsciously.
Baek Ho-yang walked ahead once more.
Woo Geom-san stared after him with wide eyes, but once again he failed to uncover the secret hidden in Baek Ho-yang's stride.
Still, he did not show a hint of displeasure. He simply tried his utmost to replicate the feeling of how Baek Ho-yang walked.
The boy fell and rose, fell and rose again, following in the old man's wake.