Chronicles of the Martial God’s Return - Chapter 14

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Three months had passed since Dan Woo-hyeon razed the Heukdo Society’s Honam Branch to the ground in a single night.
As the flow of time swept past like wind, leaving no trace in its wake, the Manor too seemed to have begun its own subtle transformation.
The burning sun beat down as though it meant to sear the flesh from bone, and even the wind that stirred carried heat in its breath.
Summer had truly, unmistakably arrived.
In that time, the Manor had become more refined still.
The trees they had planted were groomed with meticulous care, lending the grounds an air of grandeur; weathered stones of curious shapes dotted the landscape—where they’d come from, no one could say—and a small pavilion had been erected beside the pond.
It was a sight wholly transformed from six months prior.
And that was not the only thing that had changed.
So too had the people who dwelt here.
Dan Woo-hyeon remained outwardly as he had always been, but the other two had altered noticeably. Both had gained considerable weight in the six months that had passed.
They had swollen so thoroughly—as though eating and idling were their only occupations—that one might have mistaken them for hogs without reproach.
And yet Dan Woo-hyeon too had changed.
He lay stretched across the veranda, chewing candy.
Without a thought in his head, he simply gazed at the peaceful landscape of the Manor and let the days drift by.
To any observer, he was the very picture of a leisured gentleman at ease with the world.
“…….”
From his place on the veranda, Dan Woo-hyeon studied the yard below.
Waddle, waddle.
Jang Sam-tae, whose agility as a thief had long since given way to flab, moved about tidying the grounds, sweat dripping freely down his face.
Despite the considerable exertion he expended, his weight showed no signs of diminishing—for one simple reason: he ate far more than he burned.
Even now, as he moved about, he kept plucking scraps from here and there to eat.
“Hmm…….”
Dan Woo-hyeon’s gaze shifted elsewhere.
Hwa So-mi sat at one end of the pavilion, munching candy without a care in the world. Every so often she’d glance at the carp moving through the pond and dissolve into giggles.
The trouble was that she too had put on considerable weight.
Not quite as much as Jang Sam-tae, perhaps, but enough that calling her plump would hardly be an exaggeration.
Even the clothes she’d worn three months ago no longer fit her.
What in the world had happened?
In truth, the root cause lay with Dan Woo-hyeon himself.
“Mm…….”
Dan Woo-hyeon scratched his head.
Those who have gone hungry crave fullness; those who have never spent freely spend wildly once money comes into their hands. It was only natural.
And so this situation was entirely of his own making.
The wealth taken from the Heukdo Society had allowed them a comfortable life.
There was no need to hunt or fish.
They had money; they could simply buy what they needed.
Moreover, Jang Sam-tae possessed considerable culinary skill. Whatever ingredients were procured, he transformed them into dishes worthy of the finest tables.
As a result, they ate more and more.
Abundant ingredients, delicious food.
Every visit to the Common Marketplace brought home snacks; each night they ate and drank their fill before collapsing into sleep. Young Hwa So-mi touched no wine, but her appetite for eating, drinking, and merrymaking remained undiminished.
And this was the result.
Comfort had bred idleness.
“…….”
Dan Woo-hyeon recognized this as a serious threat. Of course, he himself was unaffected.
The Cheonil Jowhwa Gong circulated naturally through his body, expelling whatever impurities accumulated within.
But the other two—that was another matter.
Especially Hwa So-mi, being young; she required far greater attention to her health.
And what would he do if she grew into a stout woman and held it against him?
At last Dan Woo-hyeon resolved himself and rose to his feet.
“You two, come here.”
At his summons, both pairs of ears perked up. Jang Sam-tae, who had been tidying the yard, came rushing over in haste.
His rotund form waddled so ridiculously as he ran that it was almost comical to behold.
Hwa So-mi, by contrast, seemed reluctant, and dawdled.
Even rising appeared to cost her effort.
She let out small grunts as she pushed herself upright and shuffled forward. The child who once came bounding at his call with peals of laughter now shuffled slowly, no longer running.
At the sight, Dan Woo-hyeon seized his head in both hands.
This simply would not do.
“From today on, I’ll teach you martial arts, Jang Sam-tae.”
“I… what?!”
Jang Sam-tae’s eyes widened in shock.
Martial arts?
As a thief, he’d picked up a certain level of self-defense technique, but he’d never had a proper master, and he certainly wasn’t learning anything sophisticated.
Yet a master of Dan Woo-hyeon’s caliber was offering to teach him. His pupils dilated as if his eyes might flip backward. This was a fortuitous encounter among fortuitous encounters.
His heart thundered in his chest, refusing to settle.
He could already feel it—the day when he’d strut through Zhongyuan with powerful martial arts wasn’t far off. Jang Sam-tae swallowed hard, his eyes gleaming with hunger as he gazed intently at Dan Woo-hyeon.
Dan Woo-hyeon smiled.
It seemed he’d seen through Jang Sam-tae’s thoughts in an instant.
“Go to the Common Marketplace and buy me some martial arts manuals.”
“I… what?”
“Didn’t you hear?”
“No, I heard you, but… the ones sold at the Common Marketplace are third-rate martial arts at best….”
“Exactly why you should get them. They’re a perfect match for your level.”
Jang Sam-tae’s face darkened.
‘Damn it. Here I go, getting my hopes up. A fortuitous encounter, my ass.’

***

Martial arts manuals do exist in the Common Marketplace. Most come from the Nine Great Sects, meant more for physical and spiritual refinement than actual martial training.
Most are inferior even to third-rate techniques, and mastering them would be useless against anyone in the Martial World.
Two such books now lay before Dan Woo-hyeon.
One was a sword technique, the other a fist technique.
“The Taichi Fist and the Taichi Sword….”
“Don’t you know? They’re from Wudang, one of the pillars of the Nine Sects and One Alliance.”
“Wudang?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm….”
Dan Woo-hyeon stroked his chin. He felt like he’d heard of it somewhere, but the memory wouldn’t crystallize. So he set it aside without much thought and began flipping through the manuals page by page.
“Zhang San-feng…. An interesting name.”
“Only you could speak of him so casually, Master.”
Jang Sam-tae broke out in a cold sweat.
If the Wudang masters heard such words, they’d surely draw their swords without hesitation to defend his honor.
Zhang San-feng’s name was something not to be uttered lightly—it commanded that much reverence.
But Dan Woo-hyeon paid no mind, staring intently at the manual and turning each page as if absorbed in it.
Whether he was actually reading or simply turning pages remained unclear.
“Wudang, eh. How amusing.”
Another interesting connection seemed to have woven itself into his fate.
Dan Woo-hyeon gathered his thoughts and turned his gaze to Jang Sam-tae and Hwa So-mi standing in the middle of the Training Ground. Then he casually tossed the manuals down before them.
“Practice.”
“Huh?”
“I said practice.”
Hwa So-mi scurried forward and picked up one of the manuals. She stared at the one marked “Taichi Sword,” then tilted her head in confusion.
She flipped through one page, then another. Each page held more illustrations than text, so at least they were easy to follow.
“Am I supposed to copy these movements?”
“Yes.”
“D-don’t you think it’ll be hard…?”
“That’s why you’re doing it.”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
“…….”
Jang Sam-tae heard him loud and clear.
This bastard has no genuine interest in teaching martial arts at all. He clearly just wants to watch the two of them struggle and suffer.
“Begin.”
Though the techniques were merely third-rate, Jang Sam-tae possessed at least a basic foundation in martial arts.
Thus there was a decisive gap between someone with prior training and someone without.
Hwa So-mi didn’t know the first thing about martial arts—she was an innocent child. Even following the illustrations was taxing; within minutes, sweat poured down her face in streams.
Jang Sam-tae, meanwhile, moved with ease.
He’d learned such crude techniques long ago, back when he was just a child.
Yet Dan Woo-hyeon’s expression as he watched the two of them was far from ordinary.
He studied them intently for a moment, then shook his head. A small sigh escaped his lips.
“Why are you moving like that, exactly?”
“Pardon? We’re following the diagram as it’s drawn…….”
“Simply mimicking the movements won’t do. There’s no artistry in that.”
Dan Woo-hyeon chuckled softly.
Martial Arts, by nature, had no fixed path. People merely created their own techniques and, unwilling to stray from that course, wrote down Secret Manuals to guard it—nothing more.
Hwa So-mi could be forgiven, but Jang Sam-tae was far too rigid.
It wasn’t his own path, so movement came awkwardly to him.
“Move however feels natural to you. That’s how you forge your own path.”
“Yes!”
He didn’t say that this way of moving felt easier, or better, than that way.
Because that was Dan Woo-hyeon’s path.
Those who learn Martial Arts must each pursue their own way, and by perfecting that path, they lay the foundation to become a Master.
Jang Sam-tae moved his body, sweat pouring freely. Since Dan Woo-hyeon had asked him to show movements different from the manual, he’d tried several times to find a way that felt comfortable for him alone.
But it was terribly difficult.
Jang Sam-tae, who once dismissed Martial Arts as not even third-rate, was finding himself drawn into it anew.
By contrast.
“Hup!”
Hwa So-mi moved her body with great enthusiasm.
Yet her movements were so clumsy that one might wonder if such clumsiness existed anywhere else in the world. He hadn’t expected much from a mere seven-year-old, but this fell far—far—short of even modest hope.
“Look, sir! Can you hear the wind sound?”
Hwa So-mi swung her small branch back and forth.
Swish, swish.
In truth, it was merely the rustling of her robe as it fluttered. No one would call that the sound of wind.
Yet Dan Woo-hyeon said nothing. He simply smiled and nodded approvingly. After all, he’d never intended to teach the child actual Martial Arts.
His greatest wish was simply to do something about her softly rounded figure.
He waited, hoping to see her return to her former shape as she moved her body with such diligence.
Dan Woo-hyeon watched contentedly, nodding repeatedly.
“You’re doing splendidly, haha!”
“Really?! Hiyah! Hiyah!”
At a single word of praise, Hwa So-mi moved even more enthusiastically.
Dan Woo-hyeon was in excellent spirits.

***

…….
That evening.
Dan Woo-hyeon encountered an ambush he’d never anticipated.
It was none other than Jang Sam-tae, who should have been exhausted far more than Hwa So-mi. After training in the Training Ground for over two hours, as evening fell, he set about preparing dinner.
And he’d laid out a feast so lavish the table groaned beneath its weight.
The rice was piled high, and there were far more side dishes than usual.
Weary from the exercise after so long, Hwa So-mi began eating ravenously.
She grabbed heaping spoonfuls of side dishes, then shoved rice into her mouth as though she were gulping it down.
One could only marvel at how such a small child could pack so much food into her belly.
Glancing sideways, Dan Woo-hyeon caught sight of Jang Sam-tae.
He too had his mouth stuffed full of rice.
He ate with such relish that the flesh which had grown slightly lean seemed to be filling out again before one’s eyes.
Dan Woo-hyeon released an unbidden sigh.
“Good heavens…….”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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