Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven - Chapter 32
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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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Third-rate Martial Arts Family, Greatest Under Heaven – Episode 032
Musicality—or more precisely, the art of creating melodies by controlling the pitch and tone of sound—is no simple feat.
Even those who have spent countless years honing their craft and reached the pinnacle of artistry struggle to harmonize numerous tones and produce pleasing sounds.
Therefore, as someone neither deeply versed in musicality nor naturally gifted like Jegal Seol-ha, there was no way I could possibly pass through the Eum-gwan.
But.
‘Musicality doesn’t depend solely on pitch.’
There is something equally important as pitch in musicality.
Rhythm. In other words, timing.
And every person is born with their own rhythm.
“Inhale, exhale.”
I breathe in and out, focusing on that flow and its consistent intervals.
Thump! Thump!
I steady my mind and pay attention to the pulse reverberating from within.
‘The breath of my lungs. The beating of my heart. Let me channel the rhythm of my cardiopulmonary system into my blade.’
There was one technique perfectly suited for this.
The first form of the Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom.
Wing Strike on Suspended Ice.
Like an eagle’s wing soaring upward to strike away icicles hanging from eaves, I raise my blade in an upward strike.
Originally devised to deflect or redirect an opponent’s sword.
I treated the iron needles surrounding me on all sides as enemy blades.
‘Wing Strike on Suspended Ice, eighth variation.’
The mystery of variation infuses the straightforward upward strike, angling it diagonally.
Thus, I deflect the enemy’s vertical descending attack.
Ching!
Even after making the iron needle ring out with a clear sound, my blade did not stop.
The trajectory of one strike immediately struck the next iron needle.
Ching!
The sound waves from both iron needles overlapped.
Ching, ching-ching!
Inhale, exhale.
Thump! Thump!
Conscious of my cardiopulmonary rhythm, I extend my blade toward the next iron needle.
Lightly, as if plucking. In this moment, my sword is a zither, and the iron needles are the keys of a percussion instrument.
Ching-ching, ching-ching!
I no longer needed to be conscious of my cardiopulmonary rhythm.
The harmony of sound waves from the iron needles had grown so powerful that it resonated not just in my ears but vibrated through my entire body, and that melody aligned perfectly with my own natural rhythm.
Ching, ching, ching-ching, ching!
Jegal Seol-ha watched with her mouth open as I performed my sword dance—a dance accompanied by sound.
Certainly, one could not say I possessed deep expertise in musicality.
The melody I created had intervals in its sounds, but no distinction in pitch.
However.
Yang Hwi’s sword dance possessed a beauty that captivated the soul.
It had reached the realm of artistry.
Clang!
An iron door opens in response to the sound waves resonating throughout the chamber.
At that point, Yang Hwi stopped his sword dance and stood still with his eyes closed.
‘Interesting. The world of martial arts is truly deep and vast.’
Because I remember my past life, I already possess the enlightenment needed to reach the pinnacle.
To use an analogy, I know the path to the destination, so I can run forward without getting lost.
That’s why I’ve focused on retracing the path of my past life until now.
There’s no need to seek another path when I already know the way.
But.
‘That was the wrong approach.’
If martial arts were simply about walking a path and reaching the destination, that wouldn’t be wrong.
However, martial arts is also about building a tower.
The rhythm of the heart and lungs.
The spacing of sword strikes.
The harmony between technique and body—no, a rhythm that transcends mere harmony.
Yang Hwi absorbed this newly gained enlightenment.
In terms of depth and height, it was shallow and low.
But it was new material to build the tower larger and more solidly.
“Let’s go, Seolha. The door will close soon.”
“Oh, yes, I understand.”
Yang Hwi walked with long strides, the wooden sword slung across his shoulder, with Jegal Seol-ha following behind.
Walking along the winding narrow corridor, the passage suddenly widened several times over.
[The Fourth Chamber (第四 禮) – Martial Arts Hall (武館)]
Yang Hwi opened his mouth as he read the inscription carved on the ceiling.
“It seems this is the fourth chamber.”
“The Martial Arts Hall. It appears to be a chamber that tests one’s aptitude for martial arts.”
Seong-eum Ok-ryeong-mun pursues reaching the realm of immortals through sound while being clearly a martial lineage.
This means that aptitude for martial arts cannot be overlooked to become a direct disciple.
Because it’s Seong-eum Ok-ryeong-mun, they test this fourth. If it were an ordinary martial sect, they would have examined martial aptitude first.
“Hmm. There’s no additional explanation. Well, looking at it roughly, I can guess what kind of test this is.”
A corridor lined with dozens or hundreds of wooden figurines at random intervals.
A floor made of thousands of square wooden planks, each about the size of a child’s foot, fitted together.
Based on the unusual structure, there was only one answer.
“It’s obvious that if we try to pass through, those things will attack us, right?”
“I think so too. Why don’t we try it?”
Yang Hwi’s gaze turned toward Jegal Seol-ha.
Is she telling me to test it with my body?
The child’s growing brighter, which is good, but why does she keep seeming more shameless?
“Hmm. Seeing is believing, as they say. Let me demonstrate first, so watch carefully.”
Wielding the Hwa-cheon-i-won-gong and striking the ground, Yang Hwi dashed forward at tremendous speed.
That’s when I stepped on the wooden floor near the first wooden puppet.
Click, whoosh!
The sound of a mechanism activating beneath the floor. Simultaneously, the wooden puppet swung its arm at my head.
“Eek!”
Ducking low as I ran, the second wooden puppet attacked from below.
Leaping to evade, the third wooden puppet’s overhead strike followed immediately!
Suspended in mid-air, I couldn’t dodge. So I was about to shatter the wooden puppet with my wooden sword.
‘Hmm? Wait.’
Instead of channeling force into my wooden sword, I crossed both arms to shield my head.
Crack!
The wooden puppet’s strike was so powerful that my body traced a parabolic arc nearly three zhang through the air before crashing at Jegal Seol-ha’s feet.
“Ugh, ouch, that hurts.”
Brushing off my arms as I stood, I met the gaze of Jegal Seol-ha, who was staring down at me.
Her eyes gleamed with a look that seemed to ask—you charged forward so boldly, yet you’re blocked on the third one?
“….”
“….”
“No, I could have blocked it. I took the hit on purpose.”
“I didn’t say anything, though?”
“Your eyes are speaking for you.”
“Oh!”
Jegal Seol-ha turned away briefly, touched her face, then looked back at me.
“I’m sorry. Please forgive me, benefactor. Since I’ve always worn a veil, I’ve never had to manage my expressions….”
When she says things like that, I have nothing left to say.
“No need to force it. Honesty is better anyway.”
“Is that so?”
Jegal Seol-ha’s eyes returned to their previous look.
“…But don’t look at me with those eyes again. I really did take the hit on purpose.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t want to break them. Those wooden puppets—they contain form.”
A realization I came to after observing the wooden puppets’ attack patterns and sequence.
I’d thought they were arranged at random intervals, but that wasn’t the case at all.
“I only made it to the third one, but I’m certain. There’s only one way to evade all the wooden puppets’ consecutive attacks.”
“You mean….”
“You can only pass through the corridor by following a single flow and movement.”
A single bodily technique that evades every attack through speed, position, and direction combined.
In other words—body method.
“The Seong-eum Ok-ryeong-mun is famous for its unparalleled body method in addition to its yin cultivation.”
“So the Martial Arts Hall is itself a training process of inscribing the form of divine techniques onto one’s body.”
“Correct. But the problem is….”
Yang Hwi sighed and gazed at the wooden puppets.
“These bastards don’t hold back their strength.”
Just moments ago, Yang Hwi had been struck by the third wooden puppet and sent flying a full three zhang.
Had I not protected myself with inner energy, I would have died without question.
“I don’t know about myself, but Seolha, you won’t be able to learn by taking hits like that.”
Jegal Seol-ha had postponed her martial arts training ever since her Dohwa Body went haywire.
She was terrified that the heavenly curse stemming from the Dohwa Body would worsen.
For someone in her condition, even a single strike from a wooden puppet would be fatal—bones shattering, blood spilling.
“So you’re saying I only have one chance.”
“That’s right. If you could master all the forms of the divine techniques in your body, you could dodge them. But….”
“….”
Jegal Seol-ha’s complexion darkened.
“There is a way. I could destroy all the wooden puppets and you could simply walk through unscathed.”
“…But Master wouldn’t have sent me with you if that’s the method he intended for us to use.”
“That’s true.”
Yang Hwi studied Jegal Seol-ha’s face for a moment.
So she really couldn’t control her expressions—fear was written plainly across her features.
‘This is something I can’t help her with.’
One of the crucial elements in learning martial arts is courage—raw, unflinching courage.
Perhaps this very moment could become a turning point for Jegal Seol-ha, who would henceforth live as a disciple of Cheonmu-sip-jon and as a true martial artist.
“Take some time to think about which path you’ll choose. Besides, we’re getting hungry anyway. Let’s fill our bellies here and rest for the night.”
It had already been quite some time since we entered the Jeongeum-ogwan.
By my reckoning, nearly ten hours had passed, which meant we’d long since missed both dinner and bedtime.
“But Senior Brother, did you happen to bring provisions?”
“No. We’ve been eating at inns this whole time.”
Even when ascending Gok-ryeol Mountain to demonstrate sincerity, I’d filled my hunger with rice balls prepared at the inn.
There was no reason to carry provisions around.
“Then what are we supposed to eat? If there’s no food, we’ll starve, won’t we?”
“If there’s no food, you make some.”
Yang Hwi retraced his steps and turned back the way he’d come.
After roughly half an hour, Yang Hwi returned with five or six field mice dangling from his hand.
“Voilà. It won’t compare to an inn, but your senior brother has the ability to provide meat dishes with every meal.”
“Y-you’re saying we eat this…?”
Seeing the shock written all over Jegal Seol-ha’s face, Yang Hwi suddenly realized his mistake.
‘Ah. She’s a noble family daughter.’
In my past life, I’d wandered as a vagrant and slept rough as naturally as eating, but Jegal Seol-ha was such a young girl that this was her first time leaving her family estate.
There was no way she’d ever eaten rat meat before.
“A-are we really eating rats…?”
“Yeah. There’s nothing else to eat. If I starve, my energy drops. Without energy, I can’t pass through the Martial Arts Hall.”
“I-I’ll eat it…”
Seeing Jegal Seol-ha answer through gritted teeth, I couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh.
At least she wasn’t whining about not being able to eat it. Impressive, really.
“Wait a moment.”
Normally, you’d roast a rat whole so only the fur and outer skin would char, leaving the tender meat moist inside…
I pulled a small blade from my robe and quickly butchered the rat.
“There. This should be easier to eat, right?”
In my palm lay several small chunks of meat—the rat had vanished without a trace.
Relief bloomed across Jegal Seol-ha’s face.
“Yes! Thank you so much, Senior Brother.”
“It’s nothing.”
I built a small fire from twigs and fallen leaves, then roasted the meat over it.
“How is it? Rat meat is pretty tasty, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It’s quite the delicacy. Mmm.”
Jegal Seol-ha ate the meat with gusto, her face smudged with soot.
It seemed she hadn’t mentioned it, but she’d been quite hungry.
Then again, when would a precious daughter of a prestigious family ever go hungry for more than a day?
“Have you made your decision, Junior Sister?”
Jegal Seol-ha’s lips had turned dark with soot, but her expression was resolute.
“Yes. With this one chance, I’ll succeed brilliantly.”
“Food and water are available in abundance. In other words, we have plenty of time. I’ll demonstrate the path by attempting it multiple times, so you just need to memorize it properly.”
“Yes. I’m always grateful, Senior Brother.”
Jegal Seol-ha smiled brightly and gently tugged at the hem of my sleeve, shaking it slightly.
It was her own way of expressing gratitude.
“But Senior Brother, won’t Father worry if this takes too long?”
“Well, I’m sure those outside think it’ll take much longer.”
The first gate alone had such high difficulty that it normally took at least a week.
I’d only managed to pass it in half a day by forcibly creating and breaking through the gate.
“This is the first time I’ve been separated from Father for so long. I miss Mother too…… Don’t you miss the family members, Senior Brother?”
“I suppose.”
Jegal Seol-ha was just a child, so such feelings were natural. But as Yang Hwi—a child on the outside but an adult within—I felt little sentiment about it.
“Though, I am curious about something.”
“What is it?”
“Well, things like that.”
Since the Black Island Conflict, the Main Residence’s power had grown several times over, and with it came proportionally more work.
I thought of the people at the Main Residence who would be bustling about by now…… especially Gu Ak.
Then I smiled wryly.
‘Gu, I trust you’re doing well!’
* * *
Gu Ak made a vow to himself.
If he ever let the Family Head’s son—no, this man who viewed him as worthless—brush off his words again, he’d burn his own hands in punishment.
‘What? Coming to Baek Manor means I can spend happy times with Rang-rang? That I’ll live without shame before her?’
Yes, those words weren’t wrong… they just weren’t entirely right either.
Gu Ak gazed at the documents piled high on the chair and at Han Supervisor, who had brought them.
“Regeneration, Family Head. Today’s work assignment.”
“….”
A routine repeated over the past several days. Gu Ak simply sighed.
It was true that he was given honorable work to do.
Certainly true… but there was far too much of it.
“There is too much, Supervisor. As you well know, I have lived a life far removed from documents and letters. So please—”
Han Supervisor cut off Gu Ak’s desperate plea cleanly.
“I know. This old man has too much work to handle alone, and there’s no one more suitable than you, Regeneration.”
“….”
“Ah, and once you finish with the documents, don’t forget to handle the external affairs the Family Head used to manage. That’s actually more important. You know why, don’t you?”
Watching the dignified middle-aged man curl his index and thumb into a circle like a Black Island gang member, Gu Ak screamed internally.
‘Baek Yang-hwi! I will repay this grudge a thousandfold!’
A conversation between Baek Moo-ryang and Yang Hwi from several days before the latter entered closed cultivation flickered through Gu Ak’s mind.
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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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