Master Swordsman’s Stream - Chapter 189
—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————
Chapter 189
The sun rose over the morning sky.
“Master, who is that child?”
At the entrance of the inn, where the middle-aged man had led him by the hand, a young Daoist waited—barely past the threshold of adulthood.
Plum blossom patterns were carved into the Daoist’s sleeves and sword.
Anyone who knew the martial world would recognize the sect at a glance.
“Ah, a child I found while cleaning up.”
The young Daoist stared at his master.
The middle-aged Daoist wore a benevolent smile.
The young Daoist felt a slight chill at a master who referred to taking a life as “cleaning,” but soon nodded in understanding.
His master was strict only with the wicked.
Yet even so, it was unlike him to speak that way about salt-smuggling merchants.
Therefore, it must be the child that angered him.
“So Master rescued him? Were there no other children?”
“None. And the child didn’t seem to be there to be sold. Among the goods, the child was the only human.”
“Then…?”
“I’m not sure. But the authorities seemed satisfied with merely catching the salt smuggling, so I brought the child with me.”
“You did well. So what do you intend to do with the child?”
“I promised to take him home, but he won’t speak. Though he doesn’t seem frightened either—heh.”
“His eyes are certainly bright and alert. Though they seem a little weary.”
The two Daoists smiled sadly at the child.
“Master, could the child be from another country?”
“That’s possible.”
“Then what should we do?”
The middle-aged man had promised to take the child home, but he knew all too well that most children destined to be sold had no home to return to.
And if the child came from abroad, the likelihood increased tenfold.
The only group in these parts capable of such acts was the Japanese pirates, and he knew their methods intimately.
“Let’s go inside. The child’s eyelids seem heavy.”
“Yes.”
The two Daoists entered the inn.
After laying the child down and putting him to sleep, they left the room and seated themselves at a table.
The middle-aged man ordered food and drink, then spoke.
“I’ll have to teach him to speak first. You’ll have to work at this.”
“Master! There’s no time!”
“There is time.”
“We’ll reach the Alliance in half a month. I need to prepare too.”
The young Daoist stretched his upper body from his seated position, his eyes gleaming with anticipation and excitement.
Not the kind of excitement one feels seeing the Wulin Alliance for the first time.
The middle-aged man understood both the emotion and its reason, yet asked mischievously.
“Prepare? Prepare for what?”
“Come on, you know well enough. If I don’t bring honor to Huashan’s name there, I won’t have face enough to see my senior brother.”
“Your senior brother again—why?”
“Even if I’ve done well, I know I’m not as good as he is.”
“Ha—calling yourself talented right out of your own mouth. Truly impressive.”
Talented, he certainly was.
The young Daoist was the youngest of his generation.
He was a second-generation disciple, though his age would have suited him to be among the third generation.
The disciple before the middle-aged man was eighteen years old.
The oldest of the third-generation disciples was only sixteen.
The average age of second-generation disciples was twenty-four.
And among them, his skill ranked second.
“Still, thanks to my senior brother’s consideration, I’ve been chosen for the Yongbong Tournament where the finest young talents of the land gather!”
“Yes.”
As for confidence, he might be the first.
“I must win there! That’s my goal!”
He spoke with determination.
Like a spirited youth boldly proclaiming his ambitions to the world.
Yet nothing changed.
“So what does that have to do with teaching him to speak?”
“Sigh—fine, I understand. But in only half a month, you’ll probably only teach him simple words like moon, butterfly, sun, that sort of thing. If he were at least ten years old, it might be different.”
“That’s enough.”
“Haha. My disciple’s about to enter the greatest competition in the martial realm, and you won’t even give him guidance…”
“Quiet.”
The middle-aged man brought a cup of wine to his lips, tilted his head back, and drained it in one swallow.
“A Daoist drinking!”
The young Daoist exclaimed playfully.
“The sect leader drinks often.”
But he fell silent when his master immediately drew out a killing technique.
“Ahem—my apologies. But then… will you take the child to Huashan?”
If the child had nowhere to return.
“Yes, that’s best.”
* * *
“Hehehe. Master! This child is a genius, a genius! He’s already beginning to understand our words!”
“Is that so?”
“Yes! Look at this! Do you want a sweetcake?”
The young Daoist waved a sweetcake he’d just bought from the market in front of the child.
The child nodded.
The young Daoist handed the sweetcake to the child.
The middle-aged man, watching the scene as the young Daoist patted the child’s head, let out a sigh of disbelief.
“…Isn’t that just because you waved the pastry around?”
“No, Master. When I talk to him, he seems to understand something. The way he nods, the way he looks at my face—it all seems intentional.”
“Is that so?”
The middle-aged man smiled.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
He still hadn’t lost the smile.
“Yes.”
“It’s only been one day since you started teaching. What on earth did you teach him that he understands in just a day? Tell your master.”
“…”
“Come now. Do you really hate teaching the child that much?”
The disciple wasn’t even twenty. His small rebellions like this were merely endearing.
Though the middle-aged man kept the possibility that it was genuine in mind.
“…No, Master. Would I have bought sweetcakes if that were the case? Hehe.”
“So the child really does seem to understand our words?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. That could be.”
“What do you mean?”
The child certainly seemed to be following their conversation, listening intently to what they said.
His eyes tracked their mouths back and forth.
“The shock might have caused mutism.
“What? Then what should we do?”
“But since he doesn’t fully understand our speech, he does seem to be a foreign child. Perhaps while he was captive, he kept trying to understand. I don’t know how long he was held, but his perception seems sharp. If we teach him properly, he’ll likely learn everything quickly.”
“Are you giving me a hint, Master?”
The young Daoist was quite perceptive.
“Yes, that’s right.”
The middle-aged man nodded.
* * *
As the two Daoists traveled toward the Wulin Alliance, they continuously spoke to the child.
The child, in turn, seemed to make effort to understand the meaning of their words.
“Hmm, the more I see, the more intelligent he appears.”
“So when we reach Huashan, he’ll become my junior, won’t he?”
“Yes. At last you’ll have someone two years younger—no, about ten years younger—calling you ‘senior brother.’ Hahaha.”
Half a month passed, and they arrived at the Wulin Alliance.
“There are so many people!”
“They’ve all come to watch the Yongbong Tournament. Follow me.”
The middle-aged man showed his identification to a martial attendant at the entrance.
“We welcome Jin Yeon.”
He led the child and his disciple inside the building.
“Master.”
“What is it?”
“Will we be staying here?”
“Yes.”
“For the duration of the Yongbong Tournament?”
“We might stay longer than that.”
“Oh! I’m starting to feel more apologetic toward my senior brothers.”
“For now, enjoy the spectacle while you find it fresh. Once you grow accustomed, nothing will seem interesting anymore.”
On the way to their destination, the middle-aged man exchanged greetings with several people.
“Aren’t you Jin Yeon, the great hero? It’s good to see you. The children behind you must be Huashan disciples.”
“Thank you for your kindness last time.”
“It’s been a while.”
Jin Yeon, a first-generation disciple of Huashan Sect, thirty-eight years old.
Former vice-commander of the Wulin Alliance’s Baekho Unit.
That was the identity of the middle-aged Daoist.
He had already sent word ahead, and after leading the children to their assigned chambers, he stepped outside alone.
“Ah.”
Someone was waiting for him outside the door.
“I bow before the Elder of Wudang.”
Jin Yeon immediately showed respect.
“Enough. And we’re inside the Alliance now. Call me Elder.”
“Yes, Elder.”
“Let’s have a word.”
“Of course.”
The two entered an empty room.
“Do you know why I called you here?”
“I don’t.”
“Didn’t the Huashan Sect Leader explain?”
“No.”
“I see. That makes sense—it’s classified. But you’ve heard we might be here for an extended stay, yes?”
“I have. Is it related to the Yongbong Tournament?”
“Well… not exactly. To be precise, the Yongbong Tournament is related to this.”
“I see.”
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy in an instant.
The Elder took a deep breath before looking at Jin Yeon.
“Do you know of the Black Sword?”
“I’ve heard of him. An enigmatic martial artist who wears a Black Sword, isn’t he?”
“Then you must know the Black Sword’s deeds as well.”
“Yes. For the past two years, I’ve heard he quietly seeks out martial sects and mysteriously challenges disciples to duels. He’s set victory as the condition for those curious about his identity. Since he’s engaged in duels with the elders of each sect yet his identity remains unknown, he’s earned the epithet ‘Black Sword.’ That’s what I understand.”
“That’s right. And though it’s not widely known, he’s also visited the great sects and noble families—Huangshan, Songshan Sect and Shaolin, Namgung, Peng Clan, Moyong. He appeared suddenly, then disappeared, repeating this pattern, until he finally came to Wudang.”
“I see.”
“And the Taiji Martial Emperor engaged him.”
“The Taiji Martial Emperor?”
Jin Yeon expressed doubt at the news that Wudang’s greatest master had personally taken to the duel.
“The Wulin Alliance requested cooperation to confirm his identity. Upon seeing him, the Emperor deemed it necessary to personally intervene.”
“Was his identity revealed?”
Jin Yeon naturally assumed the Taiji Martial Emperor’s victory.
“Yes. With a rather indifferent attitude, he revealed his face. But his identity was shocking.”
“Who was he?”
“The Young Cult Master of the Demonic Cult.”
Jin Yeon’s eyes widened.
The Demonic Cult.
Though decades of peace between the Orthodox Sects and the Demonic Cult had persisted, the idea that someone from the Demonic Cult—much less the Young Cult Master—would travel around challenging martial artists was extraordinary.
But what was even more astonishing was this:
“I believe the Young Cult Master is barely past twenty?”
Twenty years old.
If he had emerged two years ago, that would make him eighteen—your disciple’s age—when he began defeating the elders of martial sects.
Was such a thing even possible?
“Has there been a change in Young Cult Masters?”
“No. The face he showed us was definitely that of the Young Cult Master we know. And the Martial Emperor said that in ten more years, he himself might not be able to handle him.”
Jin Yeon fell into deep shock.
For one of the Five Greatest Masters of the realm to speak such words about a youth was unprecedented.
Even for the Young Cult Master of the Demonic Cult, there should be limits to talent.
“The next Heavenly Demon of the Demonic Cult defeated the elders of great sects at barely twenty years of age. In ten years, he’ll enter the ranks of the Five Greatest Masters. Do you understand what this means?”
“The birth of an absolute master.”
“Yes. The balance of power will shift decisively to one side. Incidentally, his Lightness Martial Art is quite exceptional. After revealing himself, he laughed thinly as if to say he’d learned his lesson, then vanished. Only the Martial Emperor witnessed his movements.”
In other words, preemptive action was also impossible.
Silence fell over the room.
The Elder gave Jin Yeon sufficient time to think before speaking again.
“The disciple you brought from Huashan—he’s eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“He’s the most talented in Huashan, isn’t he? What’s his name?”
“Hyeon-un. And he’s not exactly the most talented…”
“Ah. Let me rephrase: Hyeon-un is the most talented among your disciples, correct? Like you were?”
“That is… yes, that’s correct.”
“Good. The Huashan Sect Leader seems to be taking this matter seriously as well.”
“Could you explain in more detail?”
“This Yongbong Tournament is merely a pretext. A pretext to gather promising children without drawing outside attention. Once the tournament concludes, we’ve decided to form a unit composed of those children.”
“Ah.”
It was common for tournaments to identify talented individuals from each sect and provide them opportunities to flourish.
After all, Jin Yeon himself had joined the Baekho Unit through such a method.
“For reference, the sole purpose of this unit is instruction. The finest minds of the Orthodox Sects will gather to guide these talented children together.”
For the full flowering of their talents.
“What of external operations?”
“We’ll release fabricated information. Also, not only near-adults but exceptionally talented younger children from each sect will be trained within the unit. If we provide the finest environment, the younger they are, the better they’ll absorb and the higher they’ll rise.”
There was no guarantee the Young Cult Master of the Demonic Cult would wait for these children to grow. There was no certainty the children’s growth would catch up.
Yet doing nothing was worse.
“I see. That’s why we’ve seen so many direct heirs from the great families.”
“Exactly. In any case, that’s why I’m asking—what is that young child you brought with you? The Huashan Sect Leader said the third-generation disciples haven’t shown sufficient promise yet, so he didn’t send them.”
“Ah…”
“Has his talent perhaps blossomed late? If so, we must naturally accept him. Right now, every child with the potential to stand against the next Heavenly Demon is precious to us.”
“That’s not it.”
“Then?”
“On the way here, I happened upon him by chance and took him in. As for his talent in the martial arts…”
Having heard the account, Jin Yeon could immediately grasp the full circumstances.
A newly formed unit would be the greatest opportunity available in the martial realm.
The finest minds of each sect teaching, the most talented geniuses gathering to learn together and compete.
One could scarcely imagine how carefully the sect leaders and family heads had selected their talents.
Especially for younger children.
And for such carefully chosen talents,
“He’ll likely be insufficient.”
One didn’t need to verify.
“Then will you take him to Huashan?”
“Likely.”
It wasn’t certain yet.
“He hasn’t been formally initiated?”
“No. He doesn’t even know the first character of martial arts.”
“Then it would be best not to bring him where the children gather until the tournament ends. Children trained in martial arts tend to become arrogant. Especially those doted upon as geniuses within their families.”
“Haha. That’s how noble families are, isn’t it?”
“They are. All of them lack manners. Tsk.”
It doesn’t matter. What exchange could there be with a child who can’t even speak?
* * *
The Elder also asked Jin Yeon to help teach the children in the unit. Jin Yeon said he would think it over and returned to his room.
He was lost in thought.
At first, he wondered if the Young Cult Master traveling around challenging people had gone mad. Then he wondered if he’d gone mad in a different sense—obsessed with martial arts.
‘To train talents in order to stop him.’
Each faction would entrust their future to it, so renowned masters would gather in one place.
“Master! You’ve returned! Finally, he’s beginning to speak! Come, junior disciple, hurry and ask Master about what you wanted to ask!”
“Oh, is that so?”
Jin Yeon approached the child with a broad smile at the good news, and the child, spurred on by Hyeon-un, opened his mouth.
“Sword… I want to see you… swing one.”
Speaking somewhat timidly, his voice trailing off.
—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————