Genius Martial Arts Trainer

A few days later.

“Hmm.”

Mukyeong, who had produced the same situation for several days in a row, looked down at Gongun sprawled across the floor with an expression sunk in deep thought.

“Is it impossible?”

He had thought that, even if only because he did not want to die, even if only because he hated pain, Gongun would somehow manage it.

Mukyeong realized far too late that the very act of “somehow” managing it was something only he himself could do.

“Let us stop here for today.”

“Yes~!”

No sooner had he been informed that training was over than Gongun, who had been sprawled on the floor, sprang upright.

'He learned that sort of thing quickly enough.'

It was a trick Mukyeong had often used himself. Well, it had never worked on Grandmaster Hyegwan at all.

There were many other similarities as well.

Since staying together meant he would get beaten either way, Gongun tried to flee secretly in the middle of the night, only to be caught and beaten twice as much.

Of course, the one who had done the beating this time was Mukyeong.

“Drink some water, at least.”

After saying that, Mukyeong once again drank the liquor inside his liquor bottle without fail.

“Gulp.”

And absurdly enough, Gongun, who had only just reached the age of learning—fifteen years old—swallowed his saliva hard while watching him.

“Do you want to drink?”

“Hahaha. If you give it to me, would I not drink it gratefully?”

“If you succeed in taking it from this master’s hand, I will let you drink as much as you like.”

“......Are you teasing me?”

Mukyeong let out a faint laugh at Gongun’s reaction, and since he had decided to stop training for the day anyway, he chose to talk with the child a little more.

“By the way, why did you act that way during the examination?”

“You are only asking that now?”

Gongun, who had asked back as though dumbfounded, thought for a moment and then decided to answer honestly.

“I simply did not want to become a monk.”

“Hmm. You did not want to become a monk.”

“Yes. Spending my whole life shut up in the mountains, unable to enjoy meat or liquor, unable to form a family. What life could be more suffocating and dreadful than that?”

It was not something a little brat dressed as a monk should be saying inside Shaolin, a Buddhist temple.

At that contradictory attitude, laughter came to Mukyeong before anger did.

“Hahahaha. You truly are an amusing fellow.”

His loose, delinquent attitude and his fondness for liquor were similar to Hyegwan, but listening to him somehow reminded Mukyeong of someone else with a different way of thinking.

“Grandmaster is one thing, but watching you, you are subtly like Mujin as well.”

“......Mu, Mujin? By that, do you perhaps mean the Leader of the Zhengmu League?”

“That is so.”

“......Wh-what do you mean? The Leader of the Zhengmu League has a personality similar to mine?”

“That fellow also said he hated being a monk and ran out of Shaolin, then got married and even became Leader of the Zhengmu League, did he not?”

“.......”

Without realizing it, Gongun thought, 'Now that he mentions it, that is true, isn’t it?'

But at the same time, another thought rose in his mind: The Leader of the Zhengmu League is that kind of person?

Mukyeong, looking at his disciple’s expression that seemed somehow confused, asked,

“If you hated becoming a monk that much, why did you enter Shaolin?”

“......Well, is it not because I wanted to learn martial arts? If I know at least one martial art, the chances of suffering something unfair will decrease, will they not?”

“Oho.”

As expected, despite his loose attitude, he understood quite a bit about life.

“What shall we do about this? You have already become a true mountain disciple, so if you wish to leave Shaolin, your martial arts would have to be abolished. If so, in the end, it would be no different from before you came to Shaolin, would it?”

“......Are you truly saying that because you do not know whose fault this became?”

Though his words were polite, the disciple was glaring at him while cursing with his eyes.

Well, Mukyeong had been teasing him in the first place, so he did not care about that irreverent attitude.

“Hahaha. Do not worry. There is a way to enjoy meat and liquor even without leaving Shaolin. Well, forming a family would be somewhat difficult, though.”

“!!!”

Toward Gongun, whose expression had turned shocked, Mukyeong spoke with a faint smile.

“Enter the Demon-Subduing Unit. Like this master. Because of the work the Demon-Subduing Unit handles, it frequently leaves Shaolin, so even if one enjoys liquor and meat in the secular world, who in Shaolin would know?”

“Like you, Master?”

At Gongun’s question, Mukyeong tilted the liquor bottle teasingly and drank from it.

Gongun, who was watching that sight, frowned and asked,

“I have been curious since earlier, but Master, you do not seem to drink only after going out into the secular world. You seem to drink openly even inside Shaolin grounds?”

“Hahahaha. Are you envious?”

“......Yes. I am so envious I could die.”

“When you become capable of properly doing one person’s share as a member of the Demon-Subduing Unit, then even if you drink liquor inside the grounds, there will likely be no one who punishes you severely.”

Why was drinking, which was forbidden by the precepts, permitted to the members of the Demon-Subduing Unit?

Gongun wore an expression that said he was curious about that, but Mukyeong did not bother to tell him.

It was not liquor they drank simply because they liked it.

Because their duty was to execute evil men and demonheads, killing was part of their daily life, and since it was dangerous, deaths occurred from time to time as well.

They drank liquor to ease the guilt of killing. Or to ease their longing for those who had departed.

And because the others of Shaolin knew their pain, they merely turned a blind eye to an appropriate degree.

The reason Mukyeong did not tell him that story was not because Gongun was too young to understand it.

On the contrary, that fellow had unusually sharp perception for his age, and Mukyeong did not want him to know that pain already.

That was why Mukyeong acted like Hyegwan.

“But with your skill, it is still impossible. Far from going outside and executing evildoers, your skill is just right for getting stabbed to death somewhere. What shall we do about this?”

After saying that, Mukyeong once again drank the liquor in great gulps.

How long had he enjoyed his liquor while looking at Gongun, who was trembling with his eyes blazing?

'He really does resemble Mujin as well. Come to think of it, Grandmaster Hyegwan and Mujin got along surprisingly well.'

As that thought came to Mukyeong, a sudden realization visited him.

Unlike Mukyeong, Mujin’s comprehension was not particularly outstanding. And yet he had reached an absurd realm.

And Mukyeong, who had spent long years together with Mujin, knew roughly what method Mujin had used to grow stronger.

“My disciple.”

“Yes, Master.”

At his disciple’s sulky answer, Mukyeong gave a small laugh and said,

“Starting tomorrow, there will be no sparring for a while.”

“Really!?”

“Yes. Instead, let us increase your external cultivation training a little.”

“......External cultivation, you mean?”

“Yes.”

Fill the lacking comprehension with external cultivation.

Of course, for that, he would have to devote himself to lifting iron every single day without fail, to the point where it would truly feel as though his bones were being carved away.

“Hihihit.”

Not knowing that fact, Gongun was simply happy that he would no longer be beaten.

***

Mount Wudang, Hubei Province.

There stood the Wudang Sect, which had once been called the number one sect under heaven.

In the war against Shincheon, Immortal Yunhe, the Taiji Sword Immortal who had been called one of the Three Swords Under Heaven, ascended to the heavens, and with the appearance of the outstanding new talents called the Three Shaolin Victors and the Leader of the Zhengmu League, Wudang had yielded the position of the number one sect under heaven to Shaolin.

That did not mean Wudang resented Shaolin. Nor, even more so, had they simply given up.

After the war against Shincheon, the surviving Un-generation disciples of Wudang entered seclusion, passed the position of sect leader to the Baek-generation disciples who had been first-generation disciples, and, like Shaolin, began accepting third-generation disciples.

Thanks to that, among the countless peaks of Mount Wudang, which now gave off a somewhat brighter atmosphere, there was one place.

There, where Immortal Yunhe had once resided, a young Daoist sat in meditation.

And an young Daoist boy came to that pavilion.

“Hoo. Hoouk.”

The young Daoist was out of breath from climbing the mountain, and in his arms he was holding a bundle as though it were something precious.

“Hoo.”

After calming his breathing, the young Daoist looked at the young Daoist immersed in meditation with a gaze filled with admiration.

In truth, the bundle the young Daoist had brought contained food. In other words, the young Daoist had climbed the steep mountain on an errand.

It was because the young Daoist living in this pavilion had not yet accepted a disciple.

It was the troublesome task of bringing food to someone who was not one’s master, but it was an errand with fairly fierce competition.

That was only natural, because that young Daoist immersed in meditation was, despite being a second-generation disciple, the current Wudang First Sword.

Because his image as an aloof young master who had dedicated everything to the sword was strong, to the third-generation disciples, he was truly an object of admiration.

He was the kind of person they wanted to meet at least once, even if they had to run an errand all the way up to this high mountain peak.

The young Daoist who had come on the errand today also felt a strange excitement as he carefully approached the young Daoist.

Worrying that perhaps he might disturb his deep meditation.

At that very moment.

Flash!

The young Daoist who had been immersed in meditation opened his eyes.

The boy worried that the meditation had been broken because of him, but that was nothing but needless concern.

The young Daoist who had opened his eyes did not even glance at the boy. He simply drew his pine-patterned sword as he was and began to dance a sword dance.

“.......”

The young Daoist watched the sword dance with a vacant expression.

It was far too beautiful.

The sword path drawn by the pine-patterned sword was creating unreal lines that seemed as though they could only be seen in dreams, and taiji symbols continued endlessly in the air along the young Daoist’s sword path.

It was truly a moment when the essence of Wudang sword arts unfolded before his eyes.

But what was more astonishing than that was the appearance of the young Daoist performing that sword dance.

Though he was dancing a sword dance so complex that it seemed as if only an immortal, not a human, could perform it, the young Daoist wore a happy smile.

As if dancing that complex and difficult sword dance was far too enjoyable.

How long had the young Daoist, fallen into a state of selflessness, danced that sword dance?

Shaaaaaak!!

Unlike the countless taiji symbols he had drawn, the young Daoist unleashed a thrust so fierce that it was difficult to follow with the eyes, piercing through the taiji he himself had drawn, then put away his pine-patterned sword.

“Hoo.”

The Wudang First Sword, Daoist Cheongsu, who had finished the sword dance with an expression of enjoyment, was regulating his breath when he belatedly discovered the young Daoist who had come to the pavilion.

“Hahaha. It seems I made you wait a long time. I had no attention to spare because I was grasping a realization that had suddenly come to me.”

“N-no, Martial Uncle. I am the one who is truly sorry for disturbing your training.”

At the startled reaction of the young Daoist, Daoist Cheongsu laughed clearly.

“Hahahaha. I do not remember being particularly disturbed, so pay it no mind.”

Then Daoist Cheongsu tilted his head, nodded as though he had made a decision, and said,

“Since it has come to this, let us go down together.”

“Are you going down to have your meal?”

“Hahaha. I can simply eat while on the way, but I intend to leave the pavilion for a while.”

“Where are you going? Ah! Could it perhaps be to organize your realization?”

Daoist Cheongsu, who had already been called the Wudang First Sword, had gained a realization.

The boy, who had even become the first person to learn that news, found it difficult to hide his excitement.

Perhaps a new divine art would be born in Wudang.

Like the stories that appeared in marketplace tales of wandering heroes, perhaps he would abstain from food and drink, enter some cave, and emerge after writing a book.

The third-generation disciple was spreading such wings of imagination, but the story that came from Cheongsu’s mouth was a little different.

“I intend to visit the Zhengmu League.”

“The Zhengmu League, you say?”

What in the world did a realization have to do with the Zhengmu League?

“Since I have gained a realization, should I not test it?”

“???”

The young Daoist was still not mad enough about the sword to keep up with Daoist Cheongsu’s way of thinking.

***

The Zhengmu League near Dongting Lake.

That place had been bustling since morning.

“Eurya!!!”

Men lifting chunks of iron here and there along with shouts.

“Now, now. Focus on your posture.”

“Goodness, my friend. Did you not hear what the Leader said? Raising the weight alone is not everything! Posture and stimulation are important, I tell you!”

And a beautiful scene was unfolding, with people giving each other advice or assisting each other when the load became difficult.

Of course, it was a beautiful scene only to Mujin and the other fellows mad about exercise.

To the rest of humanity, it was merely a sweaty scene.

And Mujin, the representative fellow mad about exercise, was watching that sight with satisfaction.

It went without saying, but the one who had spread lifting iron in the Zhengmu League was Mujin.

Perhaps because a man who had been the owner of a health club in the modern era had become the League Leader, the Zhengmu League’s training ground had transformed into something resembling a health club.

'As expected, I truly did well in choosing my wife.'

Also, this was possible because the daughter of the number one merchant association under heaven was his wife.

It meant they could produce all sorts of chunks of iron, in all kinds of shapes rarely seen in this era, in various types and weights.

Mujin, who had been watching the League members train for a while, eventually could not hold back and entered the training ground.

Watching others exercise made his muscles itch so badly that he could not endure it.

Like that, just as Mujin was grinning happily at the thought of tormenting his muscles from now on, someone hurriedly ran toward him and shouted.

“Leader!!”

Naturally, even the gazes of everyone in the training ground who had been absorbed in their own exercise turned toward Mujin.

“The Wudang Sword Star has arrived!!”

And at the man’s following shout, Mujin’s face crumpled mercilessly.