Bachelor Swordsmanship Remastered [EN]: Chapter 111

111. Sword Trace

When Mook Hyul-yeop asked, the junior disciple shrugged.

“It’s just a rumor.”

“What rumor?”

“Oh, that’s…”

The junior disciple continued listlessly.

“There’s a rumor that Shinseung’s child from his secular days has entered the Murim Alliance [a large organization of martial artists]. Some even say he’s the Sword Saint’s child…”

Mook Hyul-yeop frowned.

It seemed the truth was being distorted and spread as a rumor.

“Anyway, the rumor is that this child is loitering around here every dawn to see Shinseung.”

The junior disciple smiled wryly as he spoke.

“It’s nonsense. When you’re in the Murim Alliance, you hear all sorts of strange things… Why are you doing that?”

The junior disciple stopped talking and looked at Mook Hyul-yeop.

Mook Hyul-yeop’s already grim face was contorting.

“…It’s nothing.”

Mook Hyul-yeop said that, but his true feelings were different.

‘Could it be that the training is just an excuse, and he’s been colluding with Shinseung?’

There isn’t a representative who doesn’t know about Yunhyun’s recent movements.

Mook Hyul-yeop came to this place knowing that.

Right here, where the Sword Saint’s successor trains every dawn.

But the thought that the training was just an excuse made him feel even worse.

‘I thought he had some spirit…’

Even the small amount of goodwill he had felt at the thought of him training openly in the middle of the Murim Alliance seemed to disappear.

Along with Mook Hyul-yeop’s respect for the Sword Saint, which transcended sects and grudges.

“Let’s go.”

He would know if he was really training if he saw it himself.

Mook Hyul-yeop slowly moved towards the vacant lot.

Before he knew it, his actions had become quite cautious.

***

Mook Hyul-yeop and his junior disciples soon spotted someone.

Someone was moving in the dawn twilight before the sun had risen.

“Oh? There really is…”

The junior disciple, who was speaking with a surprised expression, quickly shut his mouth when Mook Hyul-yeop glared at him.

Tuk.

Mook Hyul-yeop stopped without getting any closer.

And with his arms crossed, he began to observe in earnest.

Just watching, Mook Hyul-yeop’s large physique, thick arms, and large eyes were enough to intimidate anyone.

The junior disciples watched Mook Hyul-yeop’s reaction as they observed someone in the dawn twilight.

He was clearly the rumored ‘Shinseung, or the Sword Saint’s hidden child’.

Sarak, tak.

Even so, the person far away was still continuing his movements.

He wasn’t holding anything in his hands, but his movements were so soft and flexible that it looked like he was practicing a dance.

But Mook Hyul-yeop and his junior disciples soon realized the identity of the dance.

“…That’s a sword technique.”

The junior disciple standing behind him said quietly.

As the junior disciple said, it was definitely a sword technique.

Training in sword techniques without a sword was a training method that the junior disciples had all gone through at least once.

“But it’s a bit…”

The junior disciple frowned as he spoke, and another junior disciple next to him took over.

“There’s no power? The stances seem too soft.”

Mook Hyul-yeop turned to look at the junior disciple at those words.

“You can see the stances?”

The junior disciple nodded as if it were obvious.

“How could I not see that much?”

Although they couldn’t compare to Mook Hyul-yeop, the two junior disciples were also outstanding in martial talent.

They had trained enough and their level was not low, so they could still see the sword movements even without a sword.

The junior disciple looked at ‘Shinseung or the Sword Saint’s hidden child’ and continued.

“And it’s too slow. The footwork also seems too simple… He’s like a beginner?”

Mook Hyul-yeop chuckled.

“If you only focus on what you can see, you will not reach the realm of ascension.”

Mook Hyul-yeop said in a stern tone as he looked down at the junior disciples.

“Is a martial artist’s victory determined only by stances? If you do not understand the meaning of the stances, the result will be completely different even with the same sword movements.”

The junior disciples nodded.

Clearly, even with the same sword technique and the same stances, their master’s and senior brother’s swords were so different from theirs.

“So, look not at what is visible, but at what is invisible. When you can see that, you will be able to distinguish true masters with just a gesture.”

Mook Hyul-yeop said in a firm voice.

“If you don’t know that, you won’t be able to avoid it even if it’s obvious, and you’ll have no choice but to be defeated even if you know it.”

The junior disciples silently pondered the words of their senior brother.

They knew the meaning of the words that they could not avoid it even if it was obvious and that they would be defeated even if they knew it.

The absolute gap that seemed like just one step but could never be crossed.

That was the wall that separated true masters from those who were not.

Swish, tak.

The training of someone in the dawn twilight was still continuing.

Mook Hyul-yeop watched the scene silently with his arms crossed.

‘The movements are soft, but there is quite a bit of spirit.’

The traces of a master cannot be hidden.

The junior disciples said that there was no power and that it was too soft, but Mook Hyul-yeop could tell.

The sword spirit of the Sword Saint’s successor, the new secretary Yunhyun, was like deep water.

Quiet and slow, but like a great river, it never stopped and flowed along its path.

That kind of depth and weight cannot be obtained in a day or two.

‘But.’

Mook Hyul-yeop frowned.

‘I still don’t like it.’

By nature, Mook Hyul-yeop hated that kind of spirit.

He would rather it burn like fire and rage like a storm, but that slow and soft spirit never suited Mook Hyul-yeop’s temperament.

Anyway, thinking that he was ‘not just anyone’, Mook Hyul-yeop began to focus on the sword movements of the Sword Saint’s successor, the new secretary Yunhyun, who was drawing a sword without a sword.

***

The day of the representative of the Jegal family, Jegal Yeon, begins early.

Jegal Yeon, who came to his office early in the morning, found a document that he had not seen last night on his desk.

Rattle.

On the desk was a bundle of documents and a short letter.

The young warrior, whom Jegal Yeon had ordered to investigate yesterday’s events, reported his progress overnight.

‘It seems he searched the document storage all night.’

The task Jegal Yeon had assigned was to retrieve the original copy of the new secretary Yunhyun’s exam paper.

It had already been over a month, and perhaps because no one considered it important, it inevitably took longer than expected.

Jegal Yeon was pleased with the young warrior’s efficiency in finding the pile of documents that had been stashed away somewhere and bringing them to him overnight.

Moreover, the young warrior had brought not only Yunhyun’s but also the exam papers of the top three candidates.

Swish.

Jegal Yeon sat down.

Sipping the fragrant tea that the maid had prepared in advance, Jegal Yeon arranged the bundles of documents on his desk in order.

“First of all…….”

The first thing to check was whether the transcribed content matched the original.

Jegal Yeon slowly examined Yunhyun’s exam paper.

Rustle.

While a cup of tea cooled, Jegal Yeon read Yunhyun’s exam paper.

However, the roughly examined content was no different from what he already knew.

If he had to point out something he newly learned, it would be Yunhyun’s handwriting.

“Even if he can’t be called a master calligrapher, his handwriting is quite skillful.”

The handwriting of literary men can be discerned just by looking at it.

Of course, there are degrees of good and bad handwriting, but the traces of reading books and writing for decades remain intact.

Therefore, Jegal Yeon could at least confirm that Yunhyun was definitely a literary man [a scholar or someone well-versed in literature].

‘Well, that’s why he passed the secretary exam.’

Moreover, he achieved the most outstanding score; in other words, he passed with the highest honors.

Jegal Yeon suddenly felt unpleasant.

‘Hmm. Why is this?’

Rustle.

Jegal Yeon put down Yunhyun’s exam paper and stood up.

Thinking it was a sequela [aftereffect] of overwork, he reached for the teacup, but he realized the tea had cooled and refilled his cup.

Savoring the smooth tea fragrance, Jegal Yeon approached the window.

Looking at the Martial Alliance’s 모습 [moseup – Korean for ‘appearance’ or ‘figure’], which was not yet free from the dawn twilight, Jegal Yeon was lost in thought.

After a while, the unpleasant feeling disappeared.

Jegal Yeon turned his head and looked at the exam papers on the desk.

‘It seems that he is indeed a literary man, and there seems to have been no special external pressure during the screening process…….’

However, that was just reconfirming what was already known.

In the end, he found nothing new in Yunhyun’s exam paper.

‘But.’

Jegal Yeon frowned and thought.

‘Why do I keep getting bothered by it?’

If there’s nothing special, he can just put it away and be done with it.

However, the vague feeling that he had missed something did not disappear.

Moreover, an unknown unpleasant feeling was stimulating Jegal Yeon again.

‘Hmm.’

The young warrior’s work was clean.

The tea was what he usually enjoyed, and there was nothing strange in Yunhyun’s exam paper.

But why does he feel so bad?

‘No, it’s not that I feel bad…….’

Suddenly, Jegal Yeon realized.

It was a kind of sense of crisis.

A vague impulse that he shouldn’t stay like this was constantly wriggling from the depths of his heart.

Jegal Yeon sat back at his desk with a firm expression.

And he began to read Yunhyun’s exam paper again in earnest.

Rustle.

Jegal Yeon thoroughly examined Yunhyun’s exam paper, word by word.

He even held it up to the light, just in case.

However, the conclusion did not change.

There was nothing in Yunhyun’s exam paper.

“Hoo.”

Rustle.

Sighing, Jegal Yeon put down the exam paper.

And he leaned back in his chair.

‘There’s definitely nothing there…….’

He even thought about just putting it away and forgetting about it.

But the problem was that the sense of crisis was still not disappearing.

Jegal Yeon’s instinct was shouting that he had overlooked something very important.

Moreover, with an even greater impulse than before.

‘……I’m tired.’

Jegal Yeon smiled wryly at the thought that suddenly came to mind.

It was ridiculous that he was tired from the early morning when he had just started work.

Thinking that the fatigue accumulated from the recent series of meetings was now rushing in, Jegal Yeon lifted the teacup and brought it to his lips.

It was at that moment.

The moment his casually cast gaze reached the exam paper spread out on the desk, Jegal Yeon almost dropped the teacup.

‘Gasp!’

Thud.

Tea splashed from the hastily put down cup, but Jegal Yeon didn’t care.

With surprised eyes, he hurriedly picked up the exam paper.

And he looked at what he had just discovered with eyes that couldn’t believe it.

“T, this is…….”

Rustle.

Without realizing it, his hand gripped the exam paper, and it made a sound.

However, Jegal Yeon stared at the exam paper with wide eyes as if to pierce through it, then hurriedly looked for another exam paper.

Rustle.

Jegal Yeon looked for whether what he had discovered was also in other sentences.

The more he turned the exam papers, the more pale Jegal Yeon’s face became.

“Good heavens. This is…….”

A sigh finally flowed from Jegal Yeon’s mouth.

Jegal Yeon could not help but be surprised in front of what had finally revealed itself before his eyes.

“……Sword Trace (劍痕) [Ggeom-heun – The mark or impression left by a sword].”

Just as one cannot hide the handwriting of a literary man who has read and written books for decades, one can never hide the hand movements of a martial artist who has reached the pinnacle of skill.

The neat and dense exam paper of Yunhyun.

What Jegal Yeon discovered there was a sword that was sharpening its blade with a blue edge.

A sharp trace that can only be created by the hand gestures of a master who has reached the extreme.

That sword trace, like a deeply cut wound, was proudly revealing its appearance on the ink-colored script.