Book 19 Chapter 1

The Hundred-Year Wish

—A Gaze

The time has finally come!

'The Sword Heart Exhibition'. Beneath the plaque that guarded the family head’s office with its solemn brushstrokes, the young man thought this. As he opened the door and entered, a deep voice greeted him.

"Are you leaving today?"

"Yes, Father!"

The young man replied briefly.

It seemed their father-son bond wasn't particularly strong, as their exchange was quite concise.

"Is everything prepared?"

It seemed the man thought it natural to double-check and deliberate, independent of his trust in his son. The son, too, didn't seem to mind his father’s caution.

"Of course. My body and mind have been ready for a long time. My resolve is etched into my very being, so my sword will be sharper than ever before."

The father looked into his son’s eyes. Fierce fighting spirit, unfitting for a nineteen-year-old, blazed like a fire. While it had burned even more intensely during ten years of arduous training, it had never once weakened or died out. That was why the man’s father, the young man’s grandfather, whom the man deeply respected, placed even greater expectations on this child. As the great hope to fulfill the hundred-year wish.

'A hundred-year wish…'

A burden that could not be shed even after a hundred years! A wall unbreached, a dream unfulfilled!

Thinking of this, his heart grew heavy as lead once more. This sensation, which would torment him like a water ghost throughout his life without ever leaving. With an even heavier heart, he looked at his son again.

"I failed!"

The young man flinched at his father’s tone, laced with self-deprecation and regret.

It was natural for him to be troubled, having to pass on the unfinished homework to his son.

"I could not overcome that wall in the end. That was my limit."

The wish he could not fulfill, the wall of 'Peony' he could not surmount! Whenever he thought of that wall, a part of his heart sank into a swamp of regret.

"But…"

Unable to contain his surging emotions, he paused for a moment.

"But I believe you will succeed!"

Was it not a wish accumulated over a hundred years, disregarding the flow of time? This child was the only one who could dissolve that solidified sediment. He, too, thought so in his heart. That was why he, no, the family, had invested everything they could without reservation.

The best environment, the best teachers, and rigorous training to hone his genius talent. The son was undoubtedly a genius spoken of by the world, and that talent blossomed in its finest form when met with the best environment.

Even now, he could say without hesitation.

This child is the greatest masterpiece of the Gongson family! This son is the next family head!

"Do not worry, Father! Now, the martial world will know that the Gongson family's 'Supreme Sword Art' is by no means inferior to the Moyong family. The sword of Peony will be broken by my hand!"

A fearsome killing intent wafted from the young man’s entire body like a heat haze.

A mighty aura, not befitting his young age! Gongson Gyeongun, the current head of the Gongson family, trembled upon witnessing that surging aura. As if the bitter memories had vanished in an instant, his heart was violently stirred by waves of anticipation.

Gongson Gyeongun approached and clasped his son's hands tightly.

"Jeolhwi! Because of you, our Gongson family will soar to become the foremost family in the world!"

His eyes overflowed with burning passion.

"This father believes in you! Remember this! The future of the Gongson family rests on your shoulders!"

Flames of fighting spirit flickered in Gongson Jeolhwi's eyes as well.

"Leave it to me, Father! The martial world will hear at this Ascension Martial Competition that the successor of Peony was defeated by the Supreme Sword!"

And the martial world would have no choice but to re-evaluate its opinion of the Gongson family.

"Take this sword!"

Gongson Gyeongun held out a sword and said.

"This, this sword…?"

Gongson Jeolhwi's eyes widened as he recognized the sword.

"I dare not accept it!"

Gongson Jeolhwi quickly bowed and refused. It was understandable, for the sword his father offered was a treasured sword that only the family head of the Gongson family could wield, and its inscription was 'Extremely Sharp'. To bestow such a precious treasure upon a young man who had just come of age was an unprecedented act.

However, Gongson Gyeongun was unwilling to change his mind. Thus, his hand showed no sign of retracting.

"Why hesitate? I am entrusting the future of the Gongson family to you! This sword is proof of that! Even if Grandfather were here, he would share my opinion! Hurry and accept the future of the Gongson family! And open that future with your own hands! How can you undertake such a great task without such resolve!"

Gongson Gyeongun exclaimed in a firm voice.

"This is my resolve! Then, what is yours?"

Finally, the young man knelt and raised both hands respectfully above his head to receive the sword. Then, he bowed to the sword and said,

"I will definitely… definitely succeed."

Definitely… definitely…

The young man choked up, unable to continue.

"Then go!"

Gongson Gyeongun said, turning away. Though his voice was trembling, he tried to maintain his composure to the end.

"I will not see you off!"

Gongson Jeolhwi bowed deeply towards his father’s back and then silently left the room. Sometimes, silence conveys more than words.

This happened fifteen days before the crucial escort mission of Jungyang Express arrived in Nanchang.

***

"Another one?"

Moyong Hwi sighed inwardly. A man who had suddenly appeared before him was babbling something.

"OXXOXXOX…"

However, he couldn't hear a word of what the man was saying. He was too tired to even register the content. Besides, he knew what it was about without listening. He was probably introducing himself. Next, he would be anxious to prove that he was the talent the Cheonmu Academy needed. It had become so common it was practically a daily routine these days.

'At least hold a sword properly…'

Whether it was his lack of skill or nervousness, the tip of the sword wielded by the nameless man pointing it at Moyong Hwi trembled slightly. It was not uncommon to encounter cases where the body couldn't keep up with the boastful words recently. It was just a little pathetic.

'At least your gaze should be directed at the opponent's eyes…'

A subtly misaligned gaze meant his posture was flawed, and furthermore, he had so many openings it was difficult to choose where to strike.

'This is already the fifth one today…'

*Swish!*

Moyong Hwi took a step forward.

'I'm in a hurry.'

Wasting more time on a brawl was also somewhat pathetic.

'I can't keep Master Yeomdo waiting any longer!'

That was something a sensible person should indeed avoid.

"Ugh!"

The man's startled exclamation was the fifth one he had heard today. Why did everyone react with their mouths but not their bodies? Pondering this, Moyong Hwi punched a spot on the opponent's body that would most effectively bring him down.

*Thwack!*

With a loud sound like a bursting drum, the man's body snapped in half. No, since it was the fifth one, calling him 'the fifth nameless man' would be more accurate. The men before him were all recognized as nameless men in his mind. Although they had all stated their sects and names while challenging him, no memory remained in his mind. He had too many things on his mind these days to bother remembering every Tom, Dick, and Harry.

"It's fortunate it ended in one hit."

At least he was spared the wasted effort of two hits.

*Startled!*

The moment he spoke unconsciously, Moyong Hwi was startled. Then, he looked at the fist that had landed perfectly on the opponent's solar plexus and the challenger who was now wriggling on the ground like an overturned cockroach after challenging like a fierce wolf.

"Is this what you call being influenced…"

They say people change through experience. Experience, in other words, is like meeting others, and people, whether they like it or not, encounter countless possibilities scattered throughout the world through their encounters. Therefore, not experiencing anything and not meeting anyone is the worst possible thing, akin to abandoning one's future and locking oneself away…

"This must be what they call a bad connection…"

Moyong Hwi muttered as if lamenting. Countless encounters through countless past lives, and among those numerous experiences, meeting someone like Bilu Yeon seemed to leave a strong impression.

If it had been in the past, he would have easily decided the fight with a simple acupoint strike. There was no need to draw his sword. However, he would not have thrown his fist with such force—and a little pleasure. Such a hearty—or rather, violent—method was somewhat contrary to his aesthetics. Yet, he did it.

"I must have been influenced too…"

A bitter sweetness coated his tongue. Bilu Yeon… a strange fellow… he had a peculiar power. While it could be ignored, it couldn't be denied.

It was truly rare for someone to live with the absurd notion that the world revolved around them as a firm belief. Yet, he did. Even more surprisingly, he occasionally made those around him wonder if his claims might not be true. That was a dangerous sign.

He was like the eye of a typhoon, sweeping through everything around him.

"That's why I try not to move much myself…"

"Have you ever seen the eye of a typhoon move? The center never moves."

That was always his catchphrase.

'Well, the real reason is probably just that he's bothered…'

It was undoubtedly so.

'Well, perhaps this is good sometimes…'

However, it was undoubtedly an immutable truth that one should choose their friends wisely. It was something to ponder.

Ultimately, his sword was not drawn even once today.

'Should I leave? Master Yeomdo will be angry if I'm any later.'

Moyong Hwi thought as he adjusted his slightly disheveled clothes. He hadn't even finished the basic training to learn the legendary secret technique.

"Fundamentals are important. To cultivate many crops, a vast and fertile land is needed; to launch a large ship, much water is needed. And to jump high, solid ground is necessary. If your vessel cannot hold this, I will not hesitate to break it."

They, Yeomdo and Binggeom, could certainly do that. His foot, which was about to move, stopped abruptly.

"Who is there?"

Moyong Hwi asked, tilting his head slightly backward. The darkness responded with silence. He decided to try and break the silence once more.

"Do you not intend to reveal yourself yet?"

Where he was looking, there was still only stillness.

Lately, he had been feeling someone's gaze. However, like a ghost, like a shadow, the owner of that gaze never revealed themselves.

'Who could it be?'

The gaze was secretive yet persistent. However, it didn't seem to be a woman's. He was a promising talent with a prominent family background, and moreover—though most considered this the highest value—he was handsome, so there were quite a few women after him. He had been troubled by this more than once. There were many women who secretly followed him, their eyes burning as if they wouldn't miss his every move. While it was no small nuisance, he was powerless. At that time, he felt fear of women's terrifying persistence for the first time. Thanks to that, he gained the ability to distinguish between a man's gaze and a woman's. His senses seemed to have specialized due to surviving many crises. Judging by the product of that experience, this gaze was clearly a man's. Moreover, it was a gaze like a bared blade filled with lurking hostility. If the owner of this gaze were a woman, it would be sheer terror.

'It can't be…'

Moyong Hwi reassured himself once more.

The eyes filled with the will to dissect his every being. Only the owner of the gaze knew what awaited at the end of that dissection.

'A considerable master…'

Although it was caught by his senses, the inability to pinpoint its location alone proved that the person had achieved considerable cultivation. Of course, Moyong Hwi was also undergoing training to the point of exhaustion. The continuously escalating training was an extremely tight schedule, even for him, who had undergone strict and intense training since birth.

Currently, Yeomdo was his instructor. It seemed their goal and role was to build a foundation somehow. How great was the martial art that Yeomdo's and Binggeom's martial arts were merely foundational work? It was truly worthy of being called a legend.

He had asked himself countless times if he could succeed, but no answer came back. It was already this difficult without even entering the main part yet.

He thought hard about who the owner of the gaze monitoring him might be, but no particular target came to mind. But it didn't matter.

"I will know soon."

After lightly swinging his arm towards the darkness, Moyong Hwi decided to continue on his way. He still had a lot of homework to do. He still had a lot of training to do today.

Moreover, the most difficult of his assigned training, sparring with Master Yeomdo, remained. Thinking of that, fatigue suddenly struck him. But he couldn't give up. Hadn't he resolved never to give up again? He had no intention of drawing the line of his existence at this point.

Moyong Hwi began to walk diligently. And he thought.

'What is that guy doing right now?'

***

Is it raining?

He raised his head and looked up. The vast night sky was miraculously clear. Then why was he so drenched? Without moving, he turned his gaze to the left. A spiderweb-like crack, which had been completely absent moments before on the wall he was leaning against, spread out in all directions, as if capturing him.

A trace that hadn't been there before. The center of that trace was less than an inch away from his face.

"That was dangerous…"

If it had come even a fraction of an inch to the right, his face might have developed the same crack as the wall. If he had lost his composure and moved even slightly, his presence would have been detected by the opponent.

"Phew~"

The young man quietly breathed a sigh of relief. He thought he had perfectly blended into the darkness, suppressing his presence, but unfortunately, he had been partially seen through.

"As expected! Is that the Seven-Severing Divine Sword Moyong Hwi!"

His popularity was indeed great. His skill was a matter for later. This was the twentieth time. The number of fights he had watched by following Moyong Hwi. It was all in just three days.

However, there was a problem.

"It's completely unhelpful!"

The young man grumbled.

Not once, not twice, but all twenty times, everyone was knocked out in one hit, making it difficult, if not impossible, to discern the characteristics of his martial art. If he had at least drawn his sword and swung it, he could have learned something from it.

The only thing he had gained was the extremely obvious fact that he needed to pay close attention. More training was needed.

"As expected, what's needed is actual combat…"

In his current state, he might lose. He couldn't picture himself reigning as the victor. To lose? That was impossible. For the honor of his family and to resolve the hundred-year wish, he had to win.

He needed to enhance his fighting spirit and add sharpness and killing intent to the brilliance of his sword. For that, solo training had clear limitations.

Then, there was only one convenient option left. Fortunately, there were plenty of targets. Right here in Nanchang, there were more than enough practice partners.

He keenly realized that unless he developed the skill to subdue opponents with one hit, he wouldn't even be on the same starting line.