Sword Saint – 2
I sat there for a long while, as if lost in a trance.
I had once heard a rumor that there existed a martial art that allowed one to enter dreams and train within them.
A mystical martial art where, within the dream, you could replay memories as many times as you wished—or even conjure up an opponent you had once fought and spar against them again.
Of course, I was incapable of such a feat.
But there was something slightly similar that I could do.
With my greatest talent—my memory—I could replay the sights I had witnessed in reality as vividly as if they were happening again.
Within meditation, I recalled that awe-inspiring sword strike I had just witnessed.
And as I did, the scene, the figure of the Sword Saint, and that transcendent swordplay vividly unfolded once more within my mind's eye.
'In truth, even my rapid assimilation of what I learned from Mukrang was thanks to this method. Whether it was the use of Shin'eung Bisang or Gongjik Sisaek.'
Especially with Mukrang—it wasn't merely that I had watched his movements. My body had moved along with them, so I could even recall the sensations and feelings from that time. That had been an incredible help.
So now, I was once again repeating, within my mind, the Sword Saint elder's cuts and thrusts.
Watching them over and over, until the breath, the movements, and the feeling itself were engraved upon my very soul.
After some time in meditation, I slowly opened my eyes, a little regretful.
I had an evening appointment, and so I couldn't continue training endlessly.
'What a pity. I wanted to see it at least a thousand times more.'
But as those thoughts passed my mind and I opened my eyes, I was startled.
The Sword Saint himself was standing right in front of me, waiting patiently for my meditation to end.
And he was watching me with a gentle, pleased smile.
"S-Sword Saint Elder?!"
I was so flustered I didn't even know what to say.
But instead, the Sword Saint was the one who spoke first.
"I wondered if you'd be late to the gathering, but you woke at just the right time. Come, let's go together."
Today was the day of our 7th Unit's dinner gathering.
It was both a farewell banquet for Lady Cheongyeon and me, and a welcoming banquet for Ma maeng-un and Lady Ya un-hyang.
Though Lady Na hadn't yet returned, since we didn't know when she would, we decided to proceed with those present.
It seemed the Sword Saint had waited to bring me along.
"If I had known you were here, I would've risen sooner. My apologies."
I apologized sincerely, but he laughed heartily and shook his head.
"Hahahaha! Watching you so focused was a delight. If my presence distracted you from training, that would've been my fault, wouldn't it? So there's no need for apology at all."
"But didn't I waste too much of your time? You could have spent it with Lady Cheongyeon."
At that, he glanced around, then whispered softly.
"I do love my daughter more than anyone in the world. But that doesn't mean I want to be with Cheongyeon all the time. I need my own life too, don't you think? Of course, you must never breathe a word of this to Cheongyeon."
He winked mischievously, and I couldn't help but laugh.
So easily putting people at ease—this was truly the Sword Saint.
Suddenly, I asked him.
"Why do you so freely share your teachings with us? With people who are neither your disciples nor your sect's brothers?"
For a martial artist, martial arts and inner insight were treasures beyond compare.
Thus, it was extremely rare for one to teach outsiders who were neither disciples nor from the same sect.
After all, the growth of other sects' disciples could later pose a threat to one's own.
Yet the Sword Saint showed no such concern.
Though he never taught his Seongra Sword Technique, he had, whenever given the chance, freely given guidance to all the warriors of the Flying Dragon Division.
At first, I thought it was only because we were Lady Cheongyeon's companions.
But later, I learned that wasn't the case—he gave the same guidance to others in different Flying Dragon units as well.
So while his actions filled me with gratitude, they also stirred questions.
The Sword Saint fell silent for a moment, then smiled faintly and spoke.
"When I was young, my dream was to become the greatest hero under heaven, to create a world where righteousness lived."
His sudden words drew a quiet breath of admiration from me.
"Ah, I see."
Of course—I could only admire.
For he had truly become the greatest hero, just as his childhood dream declared.
A life of fulfilled dreams—how magnificent, how enviable.
But the Sword Saint's expression turned somewhat bitter.
"Now, shamefully, I am called the greatest hero under heaven. In that sense, I've achieved my dream. And yet, despite that title, a world where righteousness thrives has never come. No matter how many evil cultists I slew, no matter how many villains I punished, the world remained a harsh place for the weak. In fact, once I earned that reputation, it became harder to strike them down. They scattered like cockroaches, always fleeing from me."
At that, he gave a wry smile—tinged with self-mockery.
And spoke with bitterness.
"I was arrogant. Believing that with my strength alone, I could change the world."
I let out an involuntary sigh.
His confession struck me deeply.
Wasn't I, too, trying to change the future with my own strength?
But if even the Sword Saint could not… was my thought equally arrogant?
Confusion clouded my heart.
Then, with a grin, he said to me:
"So I pondered for a long time. And at last, I reached a conclusion. My conclusion was this: to create a world where righteousness lives, my strength alone would never suffice. It's utterly impossible. For among the weak there are villains too, and among third-rate warriors as well. Yet the ones I could deal with were only the infamous masters."
Then, with a mischievous gleam, he continued.
"So I thought: even if I can't do it alone, what if I increased the number of those who stand with me? If there are villains among common folk, then strengthen the good common folk. If there are villains among third-rate warriors, then strengthen the good third-rate warriors. If righteousness spreads across every group, then surely one day a world of righteousness will come."
His eyes blazed as he spoke—like a passionate youth, like a conqueror with ambitions of ruling the world.
"You said I teach unrelated outsiders? Nonsense. That is gravely mistaken. You are not unrelated at all. You are my comrades, who will help me realize my dream."
My chest tightened, and I was struck speechless.
His boyish smile, his fiery passion, his greatness in calling all comrades—it was overwhelming.
He was truly the greatest hero under heaven.
"Of course, each of you has your own reasons for being at the front lines. But even so, I believe this: if you've given your precious youth to fight against the Blood Sect, then you are more than worthy of being called heroes. And so, helping you grow stronger is only natural."
His warm gaze fell on me.
A gaze so gentle, so warm—one I had hardly ever received from an elder before.
Then, as if recalling something, he exclaimed, "Ah!" and spoke again.
"Of course, there are still those like Ma yugyeom from last time on the front lines. But even then—you stopped him, didn't you? And isn't that proof that my dream is coming true? Hahahaha!"
Choked for a moment, I managed to smile and reply.
"You're right. Elder, you are indeed bringing your grand dream to life."
He beamed at that.
"As I thought! You understand! Honestly, when I speak of such things, my old friends just scold me, saying I've grown old yet still remain childish. Hahaha! But you… you're diffe—ah, well, thank you, hahahaha!"
After laughing heartily for a while, he suddenly asked me:
"But what about you? May I ask—what is your dream?"
Embarrassed, I smiled awkwardly and shook my head.
"It's such a small goal compared to yours, Elder. I'd be too ashamed to even say it aloud."
But he grinned and shook his head.
"Don't be like that. If there's one thing I've learned at my age, it's that every person is different. And those who cannot accept differences—when their martial strength grows—become a blight upon the world."
Those who cannot accept others, once strong, become calamities.
The words sank deep into my heart.
He continued.
"So never be ashamed. What does it matter if your dream is to dominate the world as the strongest, or simply to build a happy family? Each has their own dream. Only a dream of exploiting the weak is unacceptable. Do not shame your dream. That, I believe, would be the true injustice to your dream. Ah, but of course—that's merely my thought."
At those words, I was filled with admiration once again.
I had seen countless masters shouting of justice and truth, but never one who humbly said: "It's just my thought."
To recognize differences, to not force one's own beliefs upon others… how does one grow into such an elder?
I couldn't help but revere him.
And in that moment, I felt an urge—an impulse—to share my dream with him.
If it were him, I felt certain he would encourage my dream and say he would help me achieve it.
Cautiously, I opened my mouth.
"My dream is to erase the Blood Sect from the world. To make it so that no one around me ever dies because of them again. That is my dream now."
At that, he beamed warmly, patted my shoulder, and said:
"As I thought! I already knew you were a hero. Yes, I sincerely hope you achieve that dream. I'll help you as far as my strength can reach!"
His words filled me with an indescribable sense of reassurance.
With pride swelling in my heart, I bowed deeply in gratitude.
"Thank you. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you."
He seemed to reflect on something for a moment, then suddenly spoke again.
"But tell me—perhaps it's just my imagination, yet in your dream, I don't see you. Where exactly is your place in that dream?"
"…Pardon?"
I was taken aback by his question.
My dream doesn't have me in it?
It was something I had never considered before.
"To destroy the Blood Sect. To save those around you. A most admirable dream. But in the world where the Blood Sect is gone—what are you doing?"
Only after some thought did I begin to understand his meaning.
His dream had been to become the greatest hero under heaven and create a world where righteousness lived.
Thus, his dream included himself living on as that greatest hero.
But in my dream of a world without the Blood Sect, there was no place for me.
I realized it only then.
With a somewhat grave expression, he told me:
"This is, of course, only my personal opinion. But at the very least, I believe that my own self should matter as much as the world itself. Those who think themselves more important than the world may become villains, but those who think the world is more important than themselves—I've seen many of them fall into despair. The despair that comes when the world they valued more than themselves turns out to be unlike the world they had expected."
The world being unlike what I had expected?
That was hard to grasp.
Wasn't the world always unlike what one expected?
Perhaps reading my expression, the Sword Saint gave an example.
"It may sound extreme, but imagine this: suppose you succeed in destroying the Blood Sect, but in doing so, others rise to power and rule the world—others just as evil. What then? Suppose those you saved end up becoming as great a menace as the Blood Sect itself—what would you do then?"
This time, I understood immediately.
The Martial Alliance sprang to mind.
If I destroyed the Blood Sect, only for the now-unchecked Martial Alliance to kill my loved ones—
The thought alone was unbearably hollow.
I asked him suddenly:
"Elder Sword Saint, have you ever felt such emptiness yourself?"
He had just said he'd seen others fall into it, but something in me felt it wasn't just about other people.
He gave a bitter smile and answered:
"Well, the results of righteous deeds aren't always beautiful, after all."
I simply nodded.
The weight in his expression made it clear this was not something to press further.
Instead, I asked another question.
"Then… how did you overcome that emptiness?"
He grinned and answered.
"For me, it was family."
"Family?"
"Yes, family. Even if I couldn't change the whole world, at least I could change the world my family lived in into a place where righteousness existed. And even if I failed, knowing I had a place to return to—a place to rest and begin again—that gave me immense strength."
The expression on his face as he spoke of family was so full of happiness.
Watching him, I felt my own heart grow lighter, almost happy too.
He continued.
"Some say that for a warrior, family is nothing but a weakness. But I disagree. If it's a weakness, doesn't that mean it's something truly important to me? For me, family was the pillar that supported my life. Without them, I might have long ago given up on my dream, disillusioned by the world. Even now, think on it. Did I not suffer betrayal from a friend of the Martial Alliance, a man I had trusted for over ten years? Without family, how could I have endured it?"
I found myself nodding in admiration.
I had never thought about it deeply before, but yes—Jegal Jigang's betrayal must have been a tremendous blow to him.
It must have felt like if Bisa-yeong or Bae Jong-gwan betrayed me.
Just imagining it was horrifying.
"Family, huh…"
To me, the word family had never carried such a warm resonance.
But if I could build a happy home like the Sword Saint Elder's, then perhaps it could truly become a great strength for me as well.
As I pondered this, the Sword Saint Elder glanced at me slyly and asked, in a half-playful, half-serious voice:
"So tell me—do you perhaps already have a lady in mind as a potential bride?"
There was an oddly burdensome heat in his tone.
For a moment, Lady Na came to mind, but I quickly shook my head and replied with a laugh.
"No, not yet. I've been far too occupied with simply surviving to think of such things…"
The Sword Saint's eyes seemed faintly disappointed as he nodded.
"I see, is that so?"
For some reason, I felt guilty.
He was teaching me so earnestly, and I seemed to have let him down.
I felt as though I'd done something wrong.
So I hastily added:
"But I'll begin searching from now on. Just as you said, Elder, I realize now that I, too, must have a place in my own dream."
His face immediately brightened. He clapped my shoulder heartily and said:
"Oh-ho! Thank you for thinking that way! Truly, my disci—… ahem, I mean, like a nephew to me."
"Ah… yes. Thank you."
For the great Sword Saint to think of me not exactly as a disciple, but as kin—it was an honor beyond words.
After a brief cough, he leaned closer and spoke again in a conspiratorial tone.
"Ahem, and another thing. From my own experience, the best woman is often one already nearby. So look carefully around you."
At his words, Lady Na surfaced in my thoughts once again.
A touch of bitterness crept in, but I simply smiled and nodded.
"Yes, I do believe that's true."
He burst into booming laughter, slapping my shoulder again.
…It hurt a little.
"Hahaha! Just as I thought, you already know it too. Foolish men often dream about women they've just met, but isn't that truly foolish? The most precious ones are always right by your side! Hahaha!"
"Yes, I really think so too."
"Wahahaha! See? We understand each other! Truly, you are like my disci—no, like kin! Wahahaha!"
On the way to the gathering, the Sword Saint and I spoke of many things.
From martial arts, to life on the front lines, to stories of love from his youth.
And suddenly, a thought came to me.
How wonderful it would have been if he were my father.
How wonderful it would have been if I could have shared such moments with my own father.
That day, I found myself envying Lady Cheongyeon greatly.
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