It had already been ten years since the day I chatted with a passing escort about lightness arts and sword auras, only to get laughed at as he went through our village.
Over those long ten years, I, Goon Ja-seong, the youngest son of the Goon Family Manor, had gained a fateful encounter and become a peerless master who could split the heavens and shake the earth... Yeah, right.
"Hup! Hup! Yah!"
I was stuck practicing downward strikes with a wooden sword at the Heavenly Wind Martial Hall, the only martial hall in our village.
"Heh heh heh, you're working hard again today. Of course, as the prized eldest disciple of our proud Heavenly Wind Martial Hall, that's only natural."
I turned at the familiar voice coming from afar.
There stood Bae Wang-sam, the hall master of this Heavenly Wind Martial Hall and my martial arts master.
He claimed to have been quite the renowned expert in the martial world back in his day, but honestly, I couldn't buy it.
No, his name alone was suspect. Wang-sam? What kind of name is that?
No one would believe a high master had a name suited for some tavern keeper or errand boy extra.
With no faith in my master, it was only natural my attitude came off as cheeky.
"You're here?"
"Hmm, still talking like you've eaten attitude for breakfast today. This kid. No matter how much I beat it out of you, it doesn't stick."
"Don't you think you're the one who's hopeless, beating on a grown man like a child?"
"Nope. A brat with no manners needs to be taught some respect, even if it takes a beating."
"And our little one glaring at you like you're her mortal enemy? That doesn't make you think twice?"
I glanced at the smaller of the two kids trotting along behind my master's back.
It was Chu Ha-ryeong, the youngest disciple of the Heavenly Wind Martial Hall and, in a way, my junior sister.
The kid wasn't even ten yet, but she'd been side-eyeing me ever since she started chatting with Master. Now she was outright glaring.
Not that it wasn't just cute.
When I grinned and waved, she whipped her head away with a whoosh.
Hmm, what a cute little thing.
"What do you want me to do about that kid? Beat her like you?"
"..."
I shot my master a look like he was trash.
"What's with that glare?"
"What about my eyes?"
"You're not looking at your master—you're looking at him like he's a filthy maggot."
"No way. How could I look at my master like that?"
Quick on the uptake, aren't you?
A peerless master when it comes to reading the room.
*
After personal training with the wooden sword came what was billed as sparring but was really just a beating.
"Kweok!"
"Hear that? Sounds like a pig getting its throat slit!"
I failed to dodge the thrust aimed straight at my neck and took it full on.
My breath caught, and as I doubled over coughing, a follow-up came without mercy.
"Uwah?!"
Side roll.
The movement commonly called Lazy Donkey Roll, which martial artists avoid like the plague to save face—I barely evaded the attack with it.
"Hahaha! Quick like a rat!"
"What's with calling your disciple a rat!?"
I protested fiercely as I got back up and launched a counterattack.
In my second year at the hall, I'd finally formed a dantian using the third-rate heart method from this third-rate martial hall.
I sent a burst of the internal energy stored there through my soles in a short, powerful expulsion.
"Oho!"
My master lit up as I shot forward like a弹, closing in and swinging my wooden sword.
Aiming for revenge, I thrust at the center of his neck, but my sure-kill strike missed pathetically.
*Crack!*
"Ow!"
Intense pain bloomed on my head.
I clutched my crown and collapsed.
"Kuuh...!"
Trembling from the pain that brought tears to my eyes unbidden, I faced a merciless barrage targeting my whole body.
"Ow! Aack! W-Wait! Stop! You son of a—!"
"Tsk! How dare you curse at your sky-like master!"
My master usually brushed off my cheeky mouth, but apparently curses were a line he wouldn't cross.
His wooden sword felt stronger and faster than usual, leaving me curled up and taking it for a good while.
In the end, today's sparring ended in my defeat, as always.
"Ugh...!"
Once the so-called sparring beating finally ended, I lay sprawled on the training ground, groaning in pain.
"Damn, how do you beat a kid this mercilessly? Is that even human?"
I'd been hit everywhere, and nothing didn't hurt.
Turn this way, that side ached.
Turn that way, this side ached.
But strangely, once the pain faded, my body felt oddly refreshed.
Was this that legendary pushing palace passing acupoints technique?
"...Nah, no way."
No way a third-rate rural hall master could pull off some high-end skill like that.
I chuckled at the ridiculous thought, then winced from my still-sore body.
"Oogoo..."
Everything hurt to move, so I just lay there, staring at the sky.
The sky, now dyed red by the sunset.
Even after fifteen years of watching it, it felt fresh every time.
In my previous life, I had no leisure for it—sunsets seemed like a waste of time, so I'd never really seen one.
That's why I hadn't known. About these beautiful colors.
"You didn't hold back today either."
Lost in sunset sentiment, a cold voice snapped me back.
I groaned and looked up to see an expressionless girl standing by my head.
Jang Seol-ran, the second disciple of the Heavenly Wind Martial Hall and my junior sister.
I'd seen her face for years now, but that snow-white, adorable mug still startled me every time.
A face that made me look forward to what she'd be like in a few years?
Of course, right now she was just a sassy little brat.
"Kiddo, quit nagging and scram. Your senior bro's beat."
"Who's my senior bro? I don't recognize you as one."
"And if you don't? Master acknowledges me as the eldest disciple."
"What disciple in the world treats their master like that?"
"Me."
"If you're gonna act like that, get out of the hall right now."
All that nagging about my attitude toward Master was just an excuse.
She'd been itching to boot me since the day I first walked in.
She must really hate my guts.
So what if she doesn't like me? Gonna kick me out?
This hall's only income is my tuition.
Without it, they'd be starving by tomorrow.
In short,
"Yeah, you can't do shit."
"And what's with that speech..."
A crack appeared in her blank face.
I pounced without missing a beat, hammering Seol-ran.
"You madju? Super pissedju? Wanna kill meju?"
"..."
"Yeah~ Can't kill meju? Pissedju even more?"
"...Grind."
"Can't do shitju? Can't do shitju?"
*Boom!*
I rolled back big-time to dodge her foot stomping my head.
"Kyahahaha~! Just madju? Nyanyanyanya~"
"...Stay right there!"
She finally snapped, losing all reason—I hopped up onto the hall's wall to evade.
It was over twice my height, but a bit of internal energy made it easy.
"You...!"
But our little one, unlike me, was tiny and hadn't even formed her dantian yet.
Meaning she had no way to catch me.
"Yeah~ Can't do shitju? Kyahaha—!"
Even I found my taunting laugh annoying as I hopped the wall.
Then came her shriek from inside the hall.
-Aaaack!
"Pffahaha...!"
Ah, today was a blast too.
So don't make that icy face at fourteen, kid.
It just makes me wanna wreck it.
*
"Aaaack!"
Inside the Heavenly Wind Martial Hall.
Hall Master Bae Wang-sam shook his head at his second disciple, Jang Seol-ran, who was stomping mad alongside his third disciple, Chu Ha-ryeong.
"To think I'd see Seol-ran like this. Live long enough, you see everything."
"Even I'd be pissed after that."
Unlike her nonchalant master, Ha-ryeong wore a complicated expression.
She didn't like how Ja-seong treated Master so casually or teased Seol-ran.
But on the other hand, she felt a bit sorry for him.
"...How long are you going to let that guy stick around the hall? This is a peaceful rural village with nothing to do with the martial world. Why keep some unrelated person...?"
Ha-ryeong spoke cryptic words to Wang-sam with a face far too gloomy for a girl not yet ten.
Looking down at her, Wang-sam made a bitter face.
"You know this well enough. They're big and powerful. No room for carelessness. That's why we're disguised as a rural hall master and disciples. And with the local landowner family's son joining, it looks even more legit."
Wang-sam and his two disciples had personal circumstances.
Circumstances serious and dangerous enough that they'd gone into hiding, masquerading as a rural third-rate martial hall.
So when Ja-seong first knocked on the door, Wang-sam thought it was perfect.
Sure, using an oblivious kid felt iffy, but it made their cover airtight.
"...But you're not even teaching him proper martial arts. Just the basic Three Talents Skill."
"Then what? Teach him my signature techniques? That risks exposing us to them."
"..."
"Besides, he knew he'd only learn third-rate stuff when he came."
Ha-ryeong shut her mouth at Wang-sam's words.
As mentioned, Wang-sam had taken Ja-seong as a disciple purely to bolster their disguise.
If he taught him his unique arts and someone recognized them?
That would be disastrous.
Not just the hall—the whole village could get dragged into bloodshed.
So Wang-sam taught Ja-seong common third-rate arts instead of his own.
Ja-seong had accepted it, so Wang-sam told himself it was unavoidable. Still, thinking of him brought regret to his face.
'What a waste. Forming a dantian in just two years with a third-rate heart method—that talent. With proper training, he'd be an outstanding martial artist...'
It usually took at least four years to form a dantian with a third-rate heart method.
Yet Ja-seong did it in half that time.
Even with Wang-sam helping by beating him to smooth his meridians, it was impossible without talent.
And that movement in the spar just now.
The sudden acceleration and instant approach—truly impressive lightness art.
Jumping a wall over twice his height?
Wang-sam hadn't taught him that, so he'd probably figured it out himself.
A mere novice boy inventing a new technique?
Wang-sam had never heard of such a thing.
"What a waste, such a waste..."
It made him all the more regretful.
That he couldn't teach Ja-seong proper martial arts.
That a kid with such talent was lost in pipe dreams of lightness arts and sword auras.
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