I Shouldn't Have Joined the Martial Arts Alliance - Chapter 88

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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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Chapter 088
Jang Ryeo, the witch, and her son Sa U-rin rode without rest for two full days straight.
Sa U-rin had wanted to ask for a break halfway through, but he didn’t.
He understood that his mother was doing this to temper her son.
Since entering the Gangho, he had never run with his breath catching in his throat like this. And his mother seemed impressive all over again.
She hadn’t let out a single ragged breath.
Well, of course.
Why wouldn’t the supreme master of the Evil Sect be like this?
Night deepened again. It was the third day. Just when he thought he truly couldn’t run any longer, his mother stopped.
“We’ll rest here for tonight.”
They stood in the mountains, engulfed by pitch-black darkness.
“Here?”
Bright lights flickered down below at the foot of the mountain. Just a bit further would bring him to an inn where he could wash clean and find good food and a comfortable bed.
“A martial artist who grows soft in comfort becomes useless. Go catch some wild game nearby. I’ll make a fire.”
“…Yes.”
He was exhausted beyond measure. Even so, Sa U-rin set out without complaint, cutting through the darkness to find his prey.
Once Sa U-rin was gone, Jang Ryeo clicked her tongue sharply.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Cheol-gang, Cheol-gang. You almost ruined your only son by raising him far too precious.”
He had grown up too comfortable, without hardship.
The truth was just that.
He’d been raised wanting for nothing, lacking nothing.
And he had never even heard the common nagging of parents, nor had he paid mind to the eyes of superiors in any large organization. He did as he pleased and ate what he wanted.
Until he was thirteen.
After that, he spent five long years trapped in a gambling den, locked away beside it.
Of course, there were things lacking then, things in short supply, but even so, he paid no mind to anyone’s gaze.
So it was that Sa U-rin had always done exactly as he wished.
Some time later, Sa U-rin appeared with a wild boar across his shoulders.
“Did you need to catch something that large?”
“I just caught the nearest one.”
“…Do you know how to butcher it?”
Whether he could slit the belly, remove the organs, and prepare it properly for eating.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
She had thought he wouldn’t know.
“Father taught me.”
“You hunted with Cheol-gang?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“…I simply remember what Father showed me.”
Jang Ryeo was at a loss.
“…You remember it well enough to do it?”
“If I do it now, doesn’t that mean I can do it?”
“…Then try.”
It wouldn’t be easy.
One could split the belly, but for those handling a beast for the first time, the organs and blood flowing out, the sickening stench—none of it was simple.
Even less so when stripping flesh from bone.
And yet…
“…Is this truly your first time?”
“Yes.”
His hands didn’t move like a first-timer. Not quite like a butcher slaughtering cattle and pigs every day, but surely no worse than Jang Ryeo herself.
“…So you really learned all this just from what Cheol-gang told you?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because you’re too good at it.”
“There’s nothing I can’t do.”
“…How accomplished.”
“I’ve known that about myself for a long time.”
Jang Ryeo was speechless.
“…Even shameless about it.”
“It’s not shamelessness—it’s knowing myself well.”
“…Ha ha.”
My nose was practically clogged.
“Who on earth do you take after?”
“Either Father or Mother, I’d imagine.”
“……I see.”
I’d asked something obvious for no reason.
By now he’d removed all the innards and picked out only the choicest pieces.
“This part is the most delicious. Or rather, this is supposedly the most delicious part.”
“……Cheol-gang told you that?”
“Yes. Just give me a moment.”
“……Fine.”
Even if I’d told him not to wait, I had the feeling he would anyway—his skill was clearly no small matter.
If the women of the rear quarters saw him like this, they wouldn’t be able to help but fall for him.
Of course, that was true of Sa U-rin’s face alone.
So I asked.
“Do you have a woman you’re courting?”
“No.”
“Then, any woman you know?”
“There’s someone named Dang Yi-ryeong I’m close with.”
“……Don’t tell me you mean Dok-hwa, Dok Wang’s granddaughter?”
“Yes.”
“Of all women to spend time with…….”
“She’s kind. She’s good to me.”
A snort escaped me. “That’s only because she’s smitten with you. And I’d wager you’re the only man who’s ever called Dok-hwa kind.”
“That’s what I’ve heard, yes.”
“And yet you do it anyway?”
“If that’s what my eyes tell me, then that’s what she is.”
“Sigh.”
Truly willful.
“So what about you?”
“Me? What do you mean?”
“Do you have feelings for that woman?”
“No. It’s just that when Yi-ryeong is beside me, I feel at ease. That’s all.”
“Haha. That poor woman’s heart must be decaying.”
“Why?”
“……Are you truly so ignorant that you must ask?”
“Yes.”
“Her heart won’t just be decaying—it’ll be rotting through and through. Haha.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“You needn’t know. Understanding won’t change a thing anyway.”
“I see…….”
“How can you resemble him in such ways? Tsk, tsk.”
He was just like Sa Cheol-gang—equally clueless about women.
“What is it?”
“I said you needn’t know.”
“Then why speak of it at all?”
“……Very well.”
He truly hated losing to anyone.
I wanted to ask who he took after—this nature of his that only found satisfaction in outdoing his mother.
But the answer was obvious, so I didn’t bother asking.
‘……Damn it all.’
Sa U-rin moved about busily.
He cut thin branches, stripped them clean, skewered the select cuts of meat onto them, then set them across the thick branches on either side of the fire.
“You’re skilled, my son.”
Just watching made my mouth water.
But that wasn’t the end of it. He bustled about again, returning with branches heavy with pine needles, stripped away the needles, and laid them across the flames.
“……Won’t that create a lot of smoke?”
“Bear with it a moment. Without salt, this is the best I can do—or perhaps even better. The pine needles will mask the gaminess of the meat, but their fragrance will also seep into the meat, making it more tender and quite flavorful.”
“……You’ve learned such things too?”
“Yes. Now we only need to wait until the meat is cooked through.”
“Then sit here for a while.”
“Yes.”
Sa U-rin sat down across from his mother, Jang Ryeo.
“My son.”
“Yes?”
“As a martial artist in the Gangho, what do you think is your greatest weakness? Or have you ever thought about such things at all?”
“I’ve never really thought about it. But I can try now if you’d like. Give me a moment.”
“…All right.”
Just as she’d expected.
To Jang Ryeo’s eyes, her son Sa U-rin still seemed endlessly young.
In the way he spoke, in the way he acted.
To put it charitably, he’d grown up without a single crease or fold.
For a martial artist living through the Gangho, it was precisely the condition he should never have possessed.
And that was why she worried. That was why she’d asked.
As his mother.
Then Sa U-rin’s face brightened, as though something had occurred to him, and he spoke.
“I found two things.”
“Two? Well then, let’s hear them.”
“First, my face is far too handsome.”
“That’s not—”
“Second, I’m still too young. Isn’t that right?”
“My son.”
“Yes?”
“Your mother asked that question in all seriousness.”
“And I thought seriously before answering, Mother.”
He was sincere.
His true concerns were that his face was so handsome he might well die smothered in the lap of some woman, and that his youth meant he lacked experience and martial prowess, so he could die at any moment, anywhere. These were what weighed heaviest on him.
Because this was the Gangho.
Such was the reality.
Men fought for beautiful women everywhere—fought to earn their love, fought out of jealousy. The catalog of such struggles was endless.
If Sa U-rin stood at the center of such conflicts?
He would have no escape.
And there were countless junior martial artists who ventured into the Gangho only to vanish without a trace.
Power struggles, factional wars—any number of reasons could account for it.
“…I understand. But that’s not what I meant to ask you.”
“I’m listening.”
“From what I’ve observed, your problem is singular.”
“Now I’m even more curious.”
“…Aren’t I telling you right now?”
“Oh, yes. Please, go on.”
“You have too little fear, my son. Rather, it seems you don’t know the meaning of fear at all.”
“Is that a weakness? It seems like a strength to me.”
“Of course, it’s a great strength in a martial artist.”
“Then what?”
“But in your case, it’s different. My son, you’re not afraid of death, are you?”
“No. Everyone’s destined to die anyway.”
“Death comes to all, yes—but people don’t go easily toward it. Do you know why?”
“Because they don’t want to lose what they have?”
Whether that was power or money.
“You understand well. Then let me ask the reverse: do you have nothing you possess now?”
“I do. The faction leader right now, my seniors, Dok-hwa, and you, Mother. That’s everything.”
“And if you were to lose those?”
“…It would be sad.”
People fear death and avoid it because they dread losing such things. Yet you don’t. Why is that?”
“I told you. Everyone’s destined to die anyway.”
“…”
Jang Ryeo fell silent for a moment.
It was like speaking to an impossibly thick, solid wall.
“…You said it would be sad.”
“It would be, yes.”
When his father had passed, he hadn’t thought he’d feel sorrow—but when it came, the grief had been overwhelming.
“Doesn’t everyone carry some sorrow like that?”
“……Yes, I suppose.”
“Then, what about you, Mother? What are you afraid of losing?”
“My son.”
“Nothing else? The Jang Clan collapsing, or losing the money hidden away on the battlefield?”
“I don’t concern myself with such things.”
“Even if Uncle Chu-yeop dies?”
“As you say, everyone dies anyway.”
Now that she thought of it, her son seemed to resemble Jang Ryeo herself. He possessed thoughts so eerily like her own from childhood.
“You’re even more that way than I am.”
Having only one thing to grieve over.
“And yet this mother fears losing you.”
Now she did.
But her son Sa U-rin—he harbored no such fear at all.
Sa U-rin was not displeased. To hear directly from his mother that he mattered—it warmed something in his chest.
“But Mother, doesn’t fear make you weaker?”
“No. Quite the opposite—it makes you stronger. More desperate, more ruthless. Of course, there are many who grow weak from fear and dread. But such people were never going to amount to anything anyway. Even their strength isn’t true strength. They’re just contemptible cowards hiding in the shadows, hoping others fail. Shameful wretches who don’t deserve the name martial artist. Though I’ll grant you, the strong are full of such creatures. Orthodox Sect or Evil Sect alike. The Demonic Cult too. It’s the same wherever people live.”
“I see.”
“Yes. You must understand this. The opposite of that fool Hyun-wi.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Somewhere along the way, the meat had cooked through perfectly.
“Mother, I think the meat is done. Won’t you eat?”
“……Yes, all right.”
But this wasn’t it……
The words Jang Ryeo had begun with the intention of correcting her young son were already mixing with the smoke, dissolving into empty air.
“Mother, I’ve thought of something else I wanted to ask.”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you think it will be difficult for me to win the Azure Dragon Martial Arts Tournament?”
Sa U-rin himself felt it wouldn’t be hard to claim victory.

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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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