Episode 40
Seeing the light in Baek Iljin’s eyes, the Cheonma Sword let out a sigh and said.
—How do you plan to find Gaebyeok Hwan?
“By killing whoever has it, if I must.”
Baek Iljin’s face was calm as he spat out those brutal words.
—You must be confident in your martial arts skills.
“I have never formally learned martial arts, apart from the mental cultivation method.”
Just what did he mean by killing them? Worried he would rush off to find it immediately, the Cheonma Sword hurriedly dissuaded him.
—Listen, if you try to find it right now, your life will be in danger too.
Of course, the Cheonma Sword knew full well how absurd this kid was. So this ridiculous confidence of his was understandable.
Setting aside the fact that he possessed Cheonma energy in a human body, he had even absorbed the energy contained within his mother’s Dragon Heart.
Probably, in terms of internal energy, he had no equal anywhere on earth.
—You may be confident, but those you seek to face are beings whom even a Dragon cannot contend with.
And combat is not something done with internal energy alone. For hundreds of years, it had seen countless promising individuals fall.
—Right now, you are like a piece of iron ore of very high quality. Ten, no, a hundred times better than ordinary ore.
“What are you getting at all of a sudden?”
—But no matter how high-grade an ore you are, you are less useful than a sword made from mid-grade iron ore.
“Hmm….”
—If, when fighting an opponent, you have never felt this before…….
“……?”
—it is because your opponents were also unrefined, or trash made from cheap iron inferior even to mid-grade.
“Speak plainly.”
—Even if you’ve been lucky so far and smashed your opponents’ heads with nothing but unrefined ore itself, that won’t work anymore.
‘What an analogy…….’
Baek Iljin thought the Cheonma Sword’s analogy made no sense, but he fully understood the meaning behind it.
In short, it amounted to this:
With your current strength, you cannot face those who killed your parents, so become stronger.
‘You could’ve just said that instead of dragging it out.’
* * *
Morning came. As Baek Iljin headed to the academy, a shabbily made sword handle hung loosely at his waist.
The Cheonma Sword grumbled, seemingly displeased with the treatment.
—You! No matter what, isn’t it too much to tie me up with a string and carry me around?
‘I should’ve just shoved you into my subspace and come.’
—If there is no Cheonma energy nearby, my consciousness will disappear again!
‘That’s why I gave you back half the Cheonma energy.’
—Hmph, it was originally mine. You must be reluctant to give it back, I see?
The Cheonma Sword had the property of continuously multiplying Cheonma energy, so it wasn’t a loss. In a way, it was no different from a goose that laid golden eggs.
‘Still, I don’t really like noisy chatter.’
Even after taking the Cheonma energy, the Cheonma Sword made all sorts of excuses and finally claimed a spot at his waist.
‘Must’ve been lonely.’
Well, if it had been buried underground for nearly twenty years, it was bound to be lonely. Perhaps that was why the Cheonma Sword never stopped talking.
—Lonely? Who’s lonely? Me, the Cheonma Sword?
Without answering, Baek Iljin glanced over the Cheonma Sword—shing—and opened his subspace. The Cheonma Sword flinched and hurriedly changed the subject.
—By the way, where is this?
“The Academy.”
—Hoo, it’s been a while since I’ve been to an academy.
As the Cheonma Sword pretended to know and blabbered on, Baek Iljin asked.
“You know about the Academy?”
—Of course. When I first learned of this place, it was just when the Advanced Expert Training Center was changing its name to Academy. The brats who attended back then must all be dead by now.
While listening to the Cheonma Sword’s rambling, he spotted Hwangbo Sujeong running toward him.
“Iljin!”
“Sujeong?”
Panting as if out of breath, Hwangbo Sujeong held out a wicker picnic basket in her hands.
“Iljin! T-take this!”
A sweet sugar scent and savory butter aroma wafted from the basket. He could tell the contents without even opening it.
“Bread?”
“Yes! I-it doesn’t mean anything special; it’s just friendship bread.”
“Thanks.”
Hwangbo Cheolsu, who had approached unnoticed, also held out his hand.
“Give me one too!”
“Here.”
Hwangbo Sujeong handed bread to Hwangbo Cheolsu too. Unlike Baek Iljin’s, it was small, ugly, and unseemly.
“Tch.” Hwangbo Cheolsu pouted his lips. Still, it seemed tasty, and he devoured it in a flash.
Having distributed all the bread, Hwangbo Sujeong turned bright red and dashed into the classroom as if fleeing.
“Did something happen?”
“I don’t know either; she’s acting weird today.”
Dusting the breadcrumbs off his hands, Hwangbo Cheolsu pointed at the shabby, unsightly object hanging from Baek Iljin’s waist and spoke.
“Iljin, what’s that on your waist?”
“A sword.”
“R-really?”
Unable to bring himself to call it cool, Hwangbo Cheolsu laughed awkwardly and glossed over the situation.
When he entered the classroom, several female students with shyly reddened cheeks handed bread to Baek Iljin. Receiving them, he tilted his chin.
“What day is it today?”
“Huh? Iljin, you didn’t know? Today is Chapran Day!”
April 3rd, Chapran Day. It is a day when women give bread to men they fancy.
The origin of Chapran Day began long ago, when Saint Chapran shared her own bread with starving farmers who had no food.
Hearing Hwangbo Cheolsu’s explanation, Baek Iljin slowly nodded.
“I see.”
“Some say it’s just a bakery’s marketing scheme, but it’s fun to have days like this.”
—Hmph, you don’t even know about Chapran Day? Even I know of it.
Ignoring the Cheonma Sword’s scoffing, Baek Iljin sat down and took a bite of bread. A pleasantly crispy texture, and the harmony of sweetness and saltiness filled his mouth.
‘Good.’
Just then, a shadow fell over Baek Iljin. He looked up to see Elia holding out a small potato bread.
“Eat it or throw it away.”
“You made it yourself?”
Elia, as if exasperated, raised her hand to her mouth and let out a hollow laugh. Then, without pausing for breath, she launched into a fervent tirade.
“Ha, why in the world would I? You think I’d bake bread myself to give to you? Surely you weren’t expecting homemade bread, were you? It’s ridiculous to make it myself for someone I’m not even that close with, right? They were handing them out for free on the street on my way to school, and I couldn’t refuse, so I took one. I don’t need it, so I’m giving it to you to eat. You know we can’t just throw food away, right? So please, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get any strange ideas.”
While listening to Elia’s tirade, Baek Iljin’s eyes fell on her right hand. A bandage was wrapped around it, and between the gaps, slight burn marks could be seen.
‘Looks like she made it herself.’
—Look at that bread, hacked up all over. I’d be embarrassed to admit I made it myself too.
The bread Elia held out had been cut with scissors all over, its shape so ambiguous that it was hard to call it potato bread. It seemed the burnt portions in places had been cut away.
At the Cheonma Sword’s words, Baek Iljin nodded slightly and held out his hand. Elia placed the potato bread atop it.
“Alright, thanks.”
“You know you shouldn’t throw away food, right?”
“But earlier you said to eat it or throw it away.”
“Ah, just don’t eat it!”
Elia reached out to snatch the bread back. Baek Iljin quickly popped it into his mouth and chewed with stuffed cheeks.
“It’s delicious.”
“Wh-what?”
“I said it’s delicious.”
Her face flushed red.
Elia covered her reddened face with her hand and turned away without a word. Then she trotted back to her seat.
‘What? Delicious?’
Her own bread that she had tasted was not at a level to be called delicious. Objectively speaking, it tasted bad.
‘Did it taste okay because I gave him the best one?’
Heat radiated from the hand covering her flushed cheeks. Elia sprawled over her desk, pretending to be asleep, and peeked furtively at Baek Iljin in the back seat.
‘Or does it taste good because I gave it to him?’
Baek Iljin was eating all the bread he had received from various female students, not just hers, with apparent enjoyment.
‘I see, of course. Pig……’
The elated mood that had felt like soaring to the sky at the word “delicious” instantly plummeted. She couldn’t understand why her emotions were fluctuating so wildly.
‘Bastard.’
[Ding-dong dang-dong—Class time.]
At the sound announcing class, Dang Jain, the Basic Martial Arts professor, entered the classroom.
Dang Jain smiled faintly at the butter scent filling the classroom.
Then she glanced toward Baek Iljin to check. Stacks of bread were piled beside him, but he wasn’t eating them.
‘He’s not rudely stuffing his face with food today.’
As Dang Jain stood at the lectern, Wonjin rose from his seat and shouted the command.
“Attention, salute.”
“Good morning.”
“Yes, nice to see you, everyone.”
Seeing Dang Jain, the Cheonma Sword vibrated its main body. Then it used Cheonma energy to gauge her internal energy.
—Oho, she looks young, but her internal energy is outstanding.
‘Be quiet.’
Dang Jain wrote the word “Martial Arts” (武功) on the board in Central Plains characters. Then she opened her subspace.
Countless books spilled out from her subspace. Among them were martial arts that any martial artist would have heard of at least once.
“Today, I’ll be assigning an individual practical assessment.”
At the word “assignment,” the students murmured among themselves. The placement exam had just ended; what assignment could there be already?
“The assignment is to choose one of the martial arts I’ve poured out here and learn it.”
The students buzzed again.
The martial arts track students seemed reluctant, as they already had their sect’s unique arts and wondered if they had to learn another, while the magic track students simply looked displeased at having to learn martial arts.
“Because I expected that reaction, I’ve prepared a gift.”
Dang Jain opened her subspace once more, pouring out various weapons: swords, blades, spears, shuriken, chain swords, daggers, throwing knives, and more.
“I cleaned out the Tang Clan’s secret vault. I’ll lend you weapons suitable for each martial art.”
The Sichuan Tang Clan was renowned not only for poison but also for metallurgy. At the mention of the Tang Clan’s secret vault, the students’ eyes changed.
And Dang Jain’s following words ignited the students’ fighting spirit.
“And students who score eighty or above on the practical assessment will receive their chosen weapon as a gift. Come up now and pick the weapon and martial art you like.”
The students rushed forward. They wanted to choose the martial art that looked easiest.
Baek Iljin also held his spot and observed the martial arts.
The martial arts all belonged to destroyed sects. However, it wasn’t just minor sect arts; there were also techniques from the former Great Sects: Emei, Huashan, Wudang, Gaibang, and Yaoshou Palace.
But for this assessment, the former Great Sect martial arts were unpopular. Everyone tried to take the ones that looked easiest.
‘Hmm, what should I take?’
The Cheonma Sword began offering advice to the troubled Baek Iljin.
—Exclude Emei’s arts since they are for women, and Gaibang’s arts don’t suit you.
‘Is that so.’
—What remains are Huashan, Wudang, and Yaoshou Palace…… If you want lethal beauty, choose Huashan. If you want powerful softness that overwhelms all, choose Wudang. If you want overwhelming destructive force, choose Yaoshou Palace.
The Cheonma Sword added more, a hint of regret in its voice.
—Even so, they cannot compare to the Shenjiao martial arts your father mastered……
“Shenjiao martial arts? Where are they?”
—Gaebyeok Hwan has them.
“I see.”
Having listened silently, Baek Iljin picked up one book. It was the Wudang Sect’s Yuqing Huijian.
—Yuqing Huijian…… You have a discerning eye.
The Cheonma Sword admired Baek Iljin’s insight. Yuqing Huijian was a martial art compatible with any other. If he were to learn Shenjiao martial arts later, it was the best choice.
‘The only problem is that, considering its power, it is not easy to learn……’
That part was his own responsibility.
Baek Iljin, having chosen his martial art, went to where the weapons were piled. They were tangled every which way like a net.
‘Hmm…….’
Baek Iljin swung a sword blended with red steel, then set it down. Next was a sword made of black iron. He set that down too.
‘Nothing catches my eye.’
The students, having chosen their weapons, were testing them out. But Baek Iljin kept picking up swords and setting them back down.
Then, the Cheonma Sword shouted.
—Wh-why is that here!