A Tale Of A Scribe Who Retires To The Countryside [EN]: Chapter 29

29. One Move, Half a Meal

Still in the dim light of dawn, Son Bin rose from his bed. He washed his face with the water prepared in the room and neatly dressed, then sat at the table as usual.

Usually, he would have taken out a classic text, but today was different. Sitting blankly at the table, Son Bin let out a soft sigh.

“I knew it, but… she’s amazing.”

The image of Sa Su-yeon, confronting those extraordinary individuals with her sword, stood out like a painting.

Even against that massive axe and sharp spear, Sa Su-yeon did not back down at all. Rather, she even managed to defeat them. Something Son Bin could never do.

“Haa…”

It was definitely something to admire, but he couldn’t understand why he was sighing.

‘Hmm? Come to think of it, should I write that down too?’

Son Bin tilted his head. It wasn’t a direct martial arts display by Sa Ja-hyeok, but it couldn’t be said there was no connection. After a moment of contemplation, Son Bin eventually took out his book and brush.

‘Let’s write it down. You never know how records might be used later.’

If records are not kept, they will eventually be forgotten and disappear. Even if it is a vivid fact now, once forgotten, it becomes as if it never happened.

Son Bin suddenly chuckled. Isn’t the reason Son Bin is keeping records of Sa Ja-hyeok ultimately for that reason? Lifting his brush, Son Bin muttered to himself.

“I wonder if I’ll have to write a book about Lady Sa at this rate.”

Swish, swish.

Son Bin moved his brush, recalling his memories. Sa Su-yeon’s martial arts scene was so vivid that there was no need to strain his memory.

However, the problem was that her appearance was so beautiful and impressive that his sentences became longer and more complex than usual.

Swish, flutter.

Son Bin recorded her martial arts display almost without rest. And then, he reached the part about the Jade Dragon Reverse Scale Strike that Sa Ja-hyeok had shown.

“Hmm…”

Thud.

Putting down his brush, Son Bin tilted his head.

‘Why can’t I do it?’

He could still clearly recall the Jade Dragon Reverse Scale Strike that Sa Ja-hyeok had shown. The technique itself was very simple, and there was nothing complicated or strange about it.

It was a very natural movement in Son Bin’s eyes, with the movements of Pa-wol [Sa Ja-hyeok’s signature greatsword] that Sa Ja-hyeok usually showed.

‘This, like this….’

Son Bin raised his hand and lightly struck downwards. Then he frowned.

‘No?’

No. Everything was different except for the fact that it struck from top to bottom. Frowning and tilting his head, Son Bin raised his hand.

‘Is it because I’m doing it with my hand?’

Click.

Son Bin got up from his seat and went to where he had placed his luggage. There was a sword wrapped tightly in rough cloth.

From the outside, it was impossible to tell whether it was a sword or something like a cane, but it was definitely a sword. A very good sword at that.

‘Hmm.’

Son Bin hesitated for a moment, but not for long. Son Bin closed his eyes as if in silent prayer and bowed his head.

“I’m sorry. I’ll use it just for a moment.”

Son Bin muttered softly. Of course, there was no reply. Son Bin carefully picked up the sword.

Rustle.

When he unwrapped the rough cloth covering the sword, he saw a plain-looking scabbard. Then suddenly, Son Bin realized that he couldn’t swing a sword in the room.

He could do it if he really wanted to, but he was worried that something might break or shatter.

‘I have no choice.’

Outside the window, the twilight still lingered. Son Bin re-wrapped the sword in cloth and quietly left the room.

∴

Son Bin went to the place where the martial arts display had taken place the previous night. The secluded place, still covered in the dim light of dawn, was quiet and desolate, as if the previous night’s fierce martial arts display had been a dream.

There were some traces of the martial arts display, but no sign of anyone.

“Hoo.”

Son Bin took a deep breath of the cold air. The refreshing morning air seemed to clear his mind.

Rustle.

Son Bin unwrapped the rough cloth. A plain-looking sword quietly sleeping inside the scabbard revealed its appearance. When he gripped the sword hilt, he felt a cold sensation in his hand.

‘It’s cold.’

Son Bin examined the handle. It looked like leather, but it felt as cold as gripping metal.

The feeling was somehow like facing a cold gaze, and Son Bin even thought about just putting the sword down. But he had already come this far.

‘Well, I’m just going to swing it once.’

Justifying himself in that way, Son Bin gripped the sword. And slowly, he drew the sword.

Whoosh.

The sword revealed its form almost without a sound. The straight, beautiful blade shone coldly and sharply. Remembering Nodosha’s warning, he didn’t dare to reach his hand near the blade.

‘To just practice swinging with such a beautiful sword. I’d rather find a wooden sword somewhere….’

Thinking about it, Son Bin gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

‘But this is the only sword I have.’

Now that he had taken it out, there was no point in thinking about the sword. Lightly shaking his head, Son Bin shook off his thoughts.

Swish.

In a stance with one foot diagonally forward, Son Bin lightly gripped the sword with both hands.

“Hoo.”

After taking a light breath, Son Bin raised the sword upwards. And then struck downwards.

Whoosh.

The sound of the sword cutting through the air rang out.

‘Indeed.’

Son Bin inwardly admired.

‘Doing it with a sword feels completely different.’

Completely different. The sword was surprisingly light, but he felt a strange, heavy weight. Holding the chillingly sharp sword, his senses seemed to sharpen keenly.

‘But, it’s still different?’

Son Bin frowned. The trajectory drawn by the sword was too different from what Son Bin had imagined.

‘Let’s try again.’

Taking another breath, Son Bin calmly raised the sword. And then struck downwards.

Whoosh.

The sharp tip of the sword cut through the air. But the trajectory was completely different from what Son Bin was trying to draw.

‘No.’

Son Bin struck the sword down again.

Whoosh.

‘This isn’t it either.’

Whoosh.

‘This is even further off.’

Whoosh, whoosh.

How many times had he struck like that? Son Bin stopped his arm. And let out a long sigh.

“No.”

Slightly biting his lip, Son Bin shook his head and muttered.

“It’s not even close. At this rate, even if I do it for a hundred years, it won’t be possible.”

It was impossible. It wasn’t even close. The statement that it wouldn’t be possible even after a hundred years was by no means an exaggeration.

If it was like this even in his own eyes, what would it be like when Sa Ja-hyeok or Sa Su-yeon saw it? Son Bin suddenly felt his face getting hot.

“Hoo.”

It seemed that sweat had already broken out. Lightly wiping the sweat with his collar, Son Bin picked up the sword and examined it.

The blade still shone chillingly cold, and the handle was still cold. It was still a really beautiful and good sword.

‘It can’t be because of the sword.’

It couldn’t be because of the sword. Son Bin knew that clearly. If there was a problem, it was himself.

‘Hold on. First of all, the posture….’

Instead of holding the sword in a normal way, Son Bin recalled the posture that Sa Ja-hyeok had been using. Raising the blade above his head, with the tip of the sword slightly lowered, as if to block an attack falling from above.

‘Was it like this?’

He was trying to take a similar posture, but somehow it felt awkward and strange.

Still, as he gradually corrected his hands and feet, he managed to get into a somewhat similar posture. Son Bin took a breath and struck the sword downwards.

Whoosh.

Perhaps because of the posture, the sound of cutting through the air was even louder. But the trajectory of the sword was so disappointing.

‘It’s even worse.’

For Son Bin, who was holding a sword for the first time, this posture was actually disrupting his balance.

‘Should I give up?’

Lowering the sword, Son Bin frowned. For someone who had never properly held a sword, reproducing that trajectory itself might have been impossible.

‘But, why can’t I do it?’

It was still vivid in his mind. Even to the point where he could tell at a glance that it was different from the trajectory his own sword was drawing.

‘It feels like I just need to move the sword along that trajectory.’

He felt like he could draw that trajectory even with his hand. But it didn’t work. It was the same even when he held the sword.

‘Do I have to use a greatsword instead of a sword? That can’t be it.’

Sa Su-yeon uses a sword. Since it was something she could do, the type of weapon shouldn’t be the problem. Son Bin thought so too.

‘Hmm.’

Son Bin was lost in thought. How could he reproduce that trajectory? Thinking about it, Son Bin suddenly remembered that the trajectory of the Jade Dragon Reverse Scale Strike was originally created by Sa Ja-hyeok.

‘That’s right.’

That trajectory was created by Sa Ja-hyeok. And Sa Ja-hyeok was someone he had been watching without missing a single moment. He knew well what the roots and foundations of his greatsword Pa-wol and his swordsmanship were.

‘Hyeoncheon’s Principles!’

The trajectory drawn by Sa Ja-hyeok’s greatsword, and even his life, were based on Hyeoncheon’s Principles [a fundamental martial arts philosophy].

Without Hyeoncheon’s Principles, the current Sa Ja-hyeok and his swordsmanship would not exist. And Son Bin knew the outline of Hyeoncheon’s Principles.

Swish.

Son Bin took his stance again. Abandoning Sa Ja-hyeok’s unfamiliar posture, he took the posture that he thought was most comfortable.

Softly, but firmly, he gripped the handle of Baekro [the sword’s name] with both hands. And slowly, he calmed his breathing.

“Hoo-oo.”

As he calmed his breathing and focused on the tip of the sword, his eyes naturally half-closed. In that posture, Son Bin recalled Hyeoncheon’s Grand Principles.

Sa Ja-hyeok’s heavy voice, and each of the letters he had written, slowly passed through his mind like a fleeting breeze.

Relaxing his whole body and continuing to breathe, as if grinding ink. Slowly, but constantly. And the next moment, something unfamiliar but very familiar assailed Son Bin.

Hoo-oong.

It was a flow. A large and vast, slow but majestic flow washed over Son Bin.

‘Ah….’

He wasn’t forcing it. He was just entrusting himself to the flow.

Something so vast that it was irresistible, like the wonder of nature or a huge natural disaster, gently embraced Son Bin.

It was the same feeling Son Bin had felt when he wrote Hyeoncheon’s Grand Principles before.

But it was different. At that time, it felt like the letters were moving on their own, but now, an irresistible, huge flow was flowing. That flow was filling not only Son Bin and his surroundings, but the entire world.

In that dreamlike and fantastical feeling, Son Bin saw the sword he was holding, Baekro. And he realized why the trajectory he was drawing was different from Sa Ja-hyeok’s, and from what he had been drawing.

‘That’s right.’

It was so obvious that he wondered why he had only realized it now.

‘I’m not creating it. I am….’

Son Bin slowly moved Baekro. There was no need to rush, and no need to exert strength. It wasn’t Son Bin who was moving the sword.

‘I’m just putting my sword on the flow.’

The flow already existed. All Son Bin had to do was put his sword Baekro on it.

Hung.

The divine sword Baekro moved without a sound. And the trajectory created by Baekro was no different from what Sa Ja-hyeok had shown, and from the trajectory Son Bin had been thinking of.

Whoosh.

‘Huh?’

Baekro, which had been struck downwards, did not stop. As if it was originally intended to, or as if it had its own will, Baekro soared upwards again following the flow.

And once again, it fell downwards, stopping its movement in the middle. It was exactly the Jade Dragon Reverse Scale Strike that Sa Ja-hyeok had shown.

‘It worked?’

It worked. Perfectly.

‘It worked.’

Son Bin thought blankly. At the same time as the sword stopped, the huge flow that had been surrounding him disappeared without a trace. He didn’t know if it was a dream, a fantasy, or even an illusion.

“Haa…”

Son Bin let out a sigh with a feeling of emptiness. Along with that, Son Bin suddenly felt like he had been dragged from a fantasy into reality.

Chirp, chirp.

The morning birdsong began to be heard in his ears, and he felt the warm sunlight and soft breeze passing by. Even the warm temperature of the sword he was holding felt new.

“Ahem.”

Suddenly, Son Bin cleared his throat and glanced around. No one was looking. Son Bin breathed a sigh of relief, stroking his chest.

‘That’s a relief. There’s no one here….’

It would have been really embarrassing if he had been caught standing blankly with a sword. Especially if Lady Sa had seen him.

Looking around again, Son Bin realized that the surroundings had become bright.

‘Oh? Already….’

It seemed like just a moment ago that the surroundings were covered in twilight, but now it was as bright as day.

‘Oh dear.’

It seemed that he had unknowingly spent a long time. Son Bin picked up the scabbard he had put down. And carefully sheathed Baekro.

Clang.

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but the movement of the sword felt smooth. And the feel of the handle was no longer cold or chilly. Rather, he felt a soft warmth.

‘Well, it’s probably because I’ve been holding it for so long.’

Son Bin didn’t pay much attention to it and sheathed Baekro. Carefully wrapping the sword in rough cloth, Son Bin moved towards the inn.

Chirp, chirp.

The morning birdsong sounded particularly clear. Even the air seemed more refreshing. Thinking it was just his imagination, Son Bin hurried his steps towards the inn.

But on his lips, a faint smile that he was unaware of did not leave.