The Lightning I Harbor Is Too Strong - Chapter 50

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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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Episode 50
Eon Soran ranked hundredth in the Initiation Ceremony.
With a hundred new initiates this year, that made her dead last.
The Initiation Ceremony’s ranking didn’t determine one’s martial worth, but the fact that she’d barely scraped through was undeniable.
The Initiation Ceremony tested fundamental spiritual essence—the bedrock of any martial artist—so the assumption that Eon Soran lacked exceptional talent was entirely reasonable.
Her subsequent Evaluation Match had only reinforced that impression.
Her opponent, Paeng Ak, ranked among the top new initiates, was undoubtedly skilled, but even accounting for that, her defeat had been utterly helpless.
At this moment, most initiates regarded Eon Soran as beneath them.
“I heard she was the last hope of the Eon family, but all she’s brought is disappointment. Let me test her directly, hand to hand. I am Maeng Cheoljin of the Georyeong Maeng Family. In Sandong Province, I—”
“Save it. We both know exactly where we stand. Let’s just get this over with.”
“…Rootless as ever, I see. How your manners have coarsened.”
Maeng Cheoljin, with his catfish whiskers, looked down on Eon Soran just the same.
He spoke coldly and took his stance.
Watching his whiskers flutter in the wind, Eon Soran swallowed a sigh.
‘What was Jung Ishin thinking, exactly…’
She’d been pushed into this match, but she harbored no resentment. More chances to spar were always welcome.
What puzzled her was what Jung Ishin hoped to gain from setting her against people consumed by hostility.
‘…Right. When have I ever understood that person.’
Though their time together had been brief, Jung Ishin was a singular human being.
Whether in temperament, thought, or even martial prowess—he defied all convention.
He was someone it was pointless to try to understand.
Eon Soran shook off her thoughts and flicked her hand.
‘Ah.’
The gesture had become habit from her recent sparring with Jung Ishin, and even she was surprised by it.
“How dare you!”
Maeng Cheoljin immediately launched himself at the provocation, driving his foot into the ground.
Whoosh!
Eon Soran drew up her True Energy and sidestepped his fist—and the Martial Match began.
Crack!
A brutal impact echoed across the Daeyeon Mujang.
Since the match with Nam Taegang, more eyes had been drawn to Jung Ishin.
Those who had been watching Jung Ishin on the Daeyeon Mujang began drifting closer as the unexpected match unfolded.
“The top student really does attract incident.”
“Is that the Janhwa Fist against Maeng Cheoljin?”
“Maeng Cheoljin—reportedly the sharpest hand striker among those who follow Hwangbo’s third son.”
“Ha! When was the last time we had a real match!”
No one hated watching a fight. That was true even of martial artists, for whom combat was their trade.
But the semester hadn’t begun yet.
In the Cheongryongwan, where only new initiates dwelt, true incidents were rare.
Matches themselves were scarce. These were people gathered from every corner of the vast Jungyeong Murim. There hadn’t been enough time to develop the familiarity needed to openly request sparring.
Boom!
“The Janhwa Fist is being pushed back, as expected.”
“Hardly surprising. The top student has spent time recently on the Janhwa Fist, but even so, that’s mere foundation work.”
“I heard their matches were even. Is the top student really not that impressive?”
“Ha! You didn’t see the top student’s match against the Yeomhwa Fist? Then you’d better keep your mouth shut about her. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”
Crack!
Eon Soran deflected the punch aimed at her chin with the back of her hand and tilted her head slightly.
A crowd had gathered densely around her and Maeng Cheoljin, and she could hear every word of their murmurs with crystal clarity.
It meant she was holding her ground against a martial artist ranked above her—with ease.
‘Why is this so simple?’
Tap! Boom!
She struck aside Maeng Cheoljin’s straight punch half a beat before it came.
Some instinct had made her swing her hand to where it was going to be, and it connected.
Maeng Cheoljin’s fist, charged with True Energy, punched uselessly through empty air.
The frequency with which Eon Soran flowed past his attacks was steadily increasing.
“This…!”
Maeng Cheoljin felt it too. He ground his teeth and pulled up more True Energy, driving forward with renewed force.
Crack! Crack!
True to his status as a follower of Hwangbo, his fists were formidable, and the waves of force from his successive punches were substantial. Yet the result remained unchanged.
Watching her opponent’s strikes land uselessly beside her, Eon Soran took the offensive for the first time.
Just as she felt the path in defense, she felt it when taking the offensive.
“Ugh!”
She pressed forward relentlessly, startling Maeng Cheoljin with her sudden counterattack.
Eon Soran’s eyes blazed.
‘……I think I understand now.’
She could feel her own body growing lighter.
Her fist technique had not developed in any fundamental way.
It was the same fist she’d thrown at Paeng Ak, the same one she’d thrown at Jung Ishin. Yet it was different.
Faster. Sharper.
Crack!
“Gahhh……!”
The sensation of her fist striking Maeng Cheoljin’s jaw was vivid and clear.
How had her attack found its mark there?
She simply knew it, by instinct.
A slightly better angle of attack, a slightly better direction to evade.
‘The Flow.’
She felt it—the Flow.
Within those presented choices, it was she who decided; yet the very fact that she could perceive such a sensation astounded her.
Was this the sense that the Dougui masters of the Mueuk Sect cultivated?
Eon Soran retreated, suppressing the surging emotion in her chest.
Thud!
Maeng Cheoljin collapsed.
The arena fell silent, as if Gu Ja-un had cast a spell of muteness.
Those same people who delighted in judging others not a word escaped their lips.
For the first time, Eon Soran felt she stood on the same ground as they did.
‘The Flow…… Yes, I’ve truly caught the right current.’
Curiously, she was not speaking of the Byeokcheonryu.
Beside Hyun Poong, a man wearing a startled expression met her gaze and offered a refreshing smile.
‘Jung Ishin.’
Their first meeting, when she’d mistaken him for an untrained fool and rushed at him.
Now he occupied an entirely different position than he had then.
Despite his origins remaining obscure, his presence was overwhelming.
Dozens of carrier pigeons must have already taken flight through the sky to uncover his identity.
‘The more time passes, the more he’ll draw attention. Unlike me.’
A sickbed visit that had come for the absurd reason that they hadn’t exchanged proper greetings.
From the beginning, Eon Soran had not believed Jung Ishin’s words.
Only certain people could receive unwarranted kindness, and she was not among them.
And at last she’d learned the truth. It was poison after all.
There was no shame in it. Rather, she felt relief.
Kindness given for a reason—that she could accept with an easy heart.
And in this very moment.
Eon Soran was certain that her choice to take Jung Ishin’s hand had been the right one.
“Victory goes to Eon Soran.”
Declaring the winner with a casual wave of his hand, his manner remained as light as ever.
* * *
It was after Eon Soran’s victory had been declared.
“The achievements of Miss Eon are dazzling indeed. I too have kept my vision narrow, confining her within my own limited understanding. I am ashamed.”
Hyun Poong gripped Jung Ishin’s shoulder and spoke.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because only you, Jung, believed in her! You trusted her and guided her! Ha! How is it that your eye for people is so keen?”
“What……”
Jung Ishin turned his head as if bewildered.
He thought to himself that Hyun Poong was certainly not in his right mind either.
‘She won because she was strong enough to win, that’s all.’
Jung Ishin had not sent Eon Soran into the Martial Match without reason.
Through their daily sparring over several days, Eon Soran had already entered into the Byeokcheonryu. She simply hadn’t realized it yet.
There is a realm in Martial Arts that cannot advance at all unless one awakens to it oneself.
For Eon Soran, that had been the Flow of the Byeokcheonryu.
‘My prediction was correct. Good.’
Jung Ishin found the reason within himself.
Isn’t a smaller flow simply crushed beneath a greater one? Like sensing True Energy.
The problem was that Eon Soran had only sparred with him.
She’d grasped the Flow immediately after the Martial Match with Maeng Cheoljin.
‘That last strike was a bit unusual, though…….’
There was no time to ask about it now.
The momentum of Hwangbo’s other companions approaching Eon Soran was decidedly ominous.
Jung Ishin quickly blocked their path.
“Shouldn’t we be looking after him instead?”
His words, directed at the unconscious Maeng Cheoljin, drew immediate protest.
“How arrogant you are, Chief! Cheoljin is the weakest among us!”
“We had no reason to follow your suggestion in the first place. This was Cheoljin’s own decision.”
Jung Ishin nodded.
“I agree. But do you think the Azure Swordswoman would?”
“……!”
“That……!”
As Hyun Poong quietly shook his head, the men’s momentum crumbled.
They all knew this had begun with force, and before a Wudang Sect priest who’d witnessed every step, pushing further felt too risky.
“Well done, Miss Eon. Truly outstanding.”
“……It was thanks to you. So this is what it feels like. Like achieving Enlightenment. Now I might actually land a blow on Jung Hyuk.”
“Pardon?”
Just as he turned to leave, thinking the matter settled——
Thud—
A tremor shook the floor of the Daeyeon Mujang.
A man who’d failed to accurately gauge the preceding pressure stepped into Jung Ishin’s path.
With eyes that seemed oddly dejected and downturned, he looked at Jung Ishin and bowed with fists clasped.
“I am Ha Jinseong of the Baekryeonbang. I witnessed your Martial Match against the So Geumgang. I offer you my respect.”
“Hmm?”
“I know this is forced, but I hope you’ll indulge me. This isn’t an offer made with victory in mind. I am merely a man who follows orders.”
The sudden words were nonetheless comprehensible.
He meant he had no choice because he’d been given a command.
Yet it seemed that understanding was his alone.
“Cheol-ung, how dare you! Your words are reckless!”
“Ungrateful beast! I’ll report every word of this to Lord Hwangbo!”
For all their vein-bulging fury, what they were shouting was genuinely absurd.
Jung Ishin pointed to the man who’d just screamed.
“Tattletale. What’s your name?”
“This lowborn wretch——! I am Gwak Munjeong of the Jinan Gwak Family!”
“Right then, Gwak Munjeong. I’ll make sure your name reaches Miss Gong Soon as well.”
“W-what?! Why are you suddenly speaking of the Hwaan Pyobgeom…….”
“I remember the insult you directed at Miss Eon. Best keep your neck limber and wait.”
Gasp!
It wasn’t only Gwak Munjeong.
The mouths of all the men who’d been shouting at Ha Jinseong sealed shut at once.
Jung Ishin clicked his tongue.
“If you’re going to close your mouths so easily, then. Let’s go, Miss Eon.”
“……You’re awfully bold about selling that swordsman’s name, aren’t you?”
“She’ll understand.”
“……I don’t think she will.”
They tried to leave then, but one person——
Ha Jinseong alone still hadn’t stepped aside.
Watching him quietly loosen his body, his resolve to fight Jung Ishin felt unmistakable.
Yet he was the only one who hadn’t dragged Eon Soran’s name into his mouth.
“Why don’t you just say you were coerced and call it a day?”
“As I said, I am a man who follows orders. Throw me to the ground and go.”
“That’s not normal either.”
Jung Ishin muttered this softly, then drove his foot into the earth.
There was clearly some complicated story behind it all, but Jung Ishin was too pressed for time to hear it out.
Besides, hadn’t Ha Jinseong himself said it? Throw me down and go.
‘Clear-headed. I like it.’
The hand extending toward him was reasonably fast, but nothing compared to Jung Ishin.
In the instant he burrowed into her arms and twisted his collar in her grip.
Whoosh—!
“……!”
A chill ran down his spine as a beam of light plummeted from the sky.
Crash—!
* * *
The Daeyeon Mujang, which had grown quiet after Eon Soran’s victory, erupted into chaos in an instant.
“What, what on earth!?”
“Did something fall? Has anyone laid eyes on it?”
“By my ten years of cultivating the Yeongpoong Eye, I swear it was a man!”
The commotion was brief. As the dust the martial grounds had kicked up gradually settled, the form of a person became visible.
The official who claimed to have cultivated the Yeongpoong Eye clenched his fist tightly just as Jung Ishin withdrew the punch he had thrown.
“……What were you doing?”
He dispersed his Jeokroe Shin and challenged his opponent with the question.
Just before he could seize Ha Jinseong by the throat, he felt a current of malice flowing toward his back.
Twisting his body urgently, he blocked the sweeping fist with a Sword Sheath.
It was Seob Yeon’s Sword Sheath of the Gwangmanggun.
“I knew my eyes wouldn’t deceive me. You’ve grown even stronger since then. It’s maddening, how much I covet it.”
He fixed Jung Ishin with a gaze that gleamed with avarice.
Even as gasps of horror erupted from those around them, he did not look away.
“This is suffocating. Listen, Ha Jinseong—at this rate, even your master will understand.”
“……I see. I owe you a debt.”
Ha Jinseong, who had been sent flying by the wave of energy from the Sword Sheath strike.
He bowed once more and, shouldering the fallen Maeng Cheoljin, withdrew from the arena.
Well, naturally the other three who had been following Hwangbo were already gone.
“Now, would you explain yourself. Professor Seob?”
“Ah, yes. I have something to tell you. The Headmaster summons you. Come with me.”
“Right now, sir?”
“Yes.”
Jung Ishin sought Eon Soran’s understanding before following Seob Yeon.
Jung Ishin had a question more pressing than why the Headmaster had summoned him.
“Professor Seob.”
“Speak.”
“Why did you appear like that? I don’t think the Headmaster ordered you to attack me.”
“…….”
“Professor Seob?”
The lightning I harbored burns too fiercely
Author |
Woo San Yoo
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Samyang C&C
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Editorial Department
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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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