"Ugh... the spot I got hit yesterday is still aching."
Watching Muhwi beat on Muryun, Musan involuntarily shuddered as memories of the previous day resurfaced.
'I can't believe he took down Senior Muryun so easily…'
Among the second-generation disciples, Muryun was always considered to be in the top five when it came to martial strength.
And yet, the way Muhwi toyed with Muryun made it feel like he was an entirely different person now.
Musan subtly glanced around.
No one could take their eyes off the completely transformed Muhwi.
Thinking that the others must be feeling the same way he had felt yesterday gave Musan a strange sense of emotion.
Muhwi was shedding his old image day by day, transforming completely.
He was proving through his actions that he no longer intended to live as he once had.
"I wonder what he'll show us next…"
There had been a long period where he'd ignored and distanced himself from Muhwi. But now, he found himself starting to look forward to what Daesahyung (Senior Brother) would do next—something that felt almost strange to him.
With a wry smile, Musan raised his head again and looked at Muhwi, who was now swinging his wooden sword with energy and enthusiasm.
"Uuugh…"
Beaten to the brink of unconsciousness, Muryun hung limp as Muhwi grabbed the front of his robes.
"Musan, Muho. Come take this guy to Hwaeui-gak."
"Yes, sir!"
At Muhwi's call, Musan and Muho rushed up and each grabbed one of Muryun's arms. Supporting him on both sides, they helped him down from the platform and out of the training hall.
Thud.
Muhwi planted his wooden sword between his feet and looked out over the gathered disciples below.
Maybe it was the lingering image of him just pummeling Muryun. The simple act of his gaze sweeping across them made the others tense and straighten up.
Just by standing there silently and moving his eyes, Muhwi had seized control of the entire training ground.
His gaze came to a stop on Muhwa, the one who had asked the question about the Six Harmonies Sword earlier.
"Do you understand now why I was able to completely fend off Muryun's offense using only the Six Harmonies Sword?"
"Because you've built a solid foundation with it?"
"That's part of it, but also—Muryun's foundation was shallower than expected. That became obvious the moment he started using the Gale Sword. Anyone know why?"
Muhwi's question passed over the training ground, and Mucheol was the one to answer. A few of the others turned in curiosity as he spoke.
"Emotion. His heart was shaken."
Muhwi nodded.
"Muryun panicked. He grew impatient. Because of that, even though the speed of his Gale Sword increased, the forms were simple and light. Easier to defend against than the Six Harmonies Sword."
At that, another second-generation disciple asked:
"What you just said—does that relate to the idea of foundation?"
"The foundation I'm talking about isn't just about swinging the sword in a textbook posture over and over. A novice wields the sword with just their arms. An intermediate practitioner uses their entire body and breath flows into the sword."
Mujin, who had been quietly listening, finally asked:
"Then what about a master?"
"One who contemplates themselves while swinging the sword."
The answer sounded vague at first. Knowing it wouldn't be immediately understood, Muhwi continued explaining in more detail.
"A steady heart amid stillness and motion, control over breath, maintaining and shifting your center of gravity, distributing inner energy—these must all work in harmony. That's why you must constantly observe and reflect upon yourself. That is cultivation—and it's the reason why we, as Taoists of Mount Hua, practice swordsmanship."
Muhwi had interpreted the enlightenment he gained on his path as the Sword Ghost, the greatest swordsman of the demonic sect, through the lens of Taoist philosophy.
All paths return to one. (萬流歸宗)
Right and wrong, orthodox and unorthodox—the paths may differ, but in the end, they lead to the same truth. As long as one can delve deeply into the essence, the rest is not so difficult.
'I wonder if these guys realize I just handed them a major revelation.'
Looking at his wide-eyed disciples blinking in a daze, Muhwi let out a soft chuckle. It didn't matter if they couldn't understand it just yet or if it didn't sink in right away.
As long as they tucked it away in some corner of their heart, it would help them someday when they hit a wall.
"This isn't something you can achieve just by learning high-level martial techniques. You must swing your sword while constantly reflecting upon yourself and striving to cultivate your mind. That's what building a foundation means."
There was a strange charisma woven into Muhwi's words.
Among all the disciples of the same generation, who could speak with such depth?
The impression of Muhwi that had been built up over more than a decade was slowly beginning to crumble.
And in the eyes of the second-generation disciples watching him now, for the first time, a flicker of trust began to shine.
"I've explained this kindly enough. If anyone still has complaints, let's talk it out with our wooden swords."
His comment, half in jest, drew a few chuckles from the others.
'Not bad at all.'
The look in the eyes of the second-generation disciples gazing up at him now held a new kind of warmth and intensity.
Seeing that, Muhwi slowly raised his wooden sword to middle guard. Instantly, the disciples followed suit and took the same stance.
"Haaaap!"
A loud chorus of battle cries echoed through the training grounds. Just like that, Muhwi's first morning training session as instructor began.
As he watched the second-generation disciples perform the Six Harmonies Sword, Muhwi raised his voice:
"Your thrusts aren't straight enough!"
He began nitpicking the faults he saw in each of them, one by one.
"Muhwa! There's not enough force in your strikes. That's because you're only using your arms and not your whole body."
"Yes, sir!"
The Six Harmonies Sword was the style the second-generation disciples had practiced the longest. Yet they had to pour all their focus just into performing the forms correctly.
If they didn't, Daesahyung's stern rebuke would immediately follow.
"Muhae, Muyun! Why are your stances so shaky? Are you slacking off on your stances training?"
"Sorry, Daesahyung!"
Muhwi was pinpointing each disciple's weakness and correcting them precisely. The moment he gave feedback, the disciples worked hard to adjust.
Some had already sensed their own shortcomings, but when Muhwi identified them so clearly, it only increased their trust in him.
As the second-generation disciples began to fully focus on their swords, their passion started to heat the cool dawn air.
Muhwi's corrections hit nearly every one of them—including Mujin, known for having the greatest martial prowess among them.
"Mujin! Your upper body is too stiff. Relax your shoulders and strike with more fluidity."
Startled by the sharpness of Muhwi's command, Mujin hesitated for a moment before driving his sword forward with renewed strength.
"Yes, Daesahyung!"
Mujin swung his sword a few more times, gradually loosening up his upper body as if he'd finally found his rhythm. Watching him, Muhwi let out a silent sigh of admiration.
'As I thought, if we're talking raw talent alone, that kid's the best among them.'
Muhwi had been giving advice all along, but few disciples were able to apply it to their movements right away. That was only natural.
Even if one understood it mentally, it was difficult to fix habits that had already been ingrained in the body.
That's why martial artists constantly repeat their training—to slowly patch up their weaknesses, one by one.
'He's worth training.'
When Hyeonjo had gone looking for a disciple, everyone assumed he would choose Mujin. But instead, he had chosen Muhwi.
No one in Mount Hua knew the reason—except for Muhwi. Because he had heard it from Hyeonjo himself in his previous life.
"You're called Muhwi, right? From afar, you didn't seem like much. Do you have some hidden talent I don't know about?"
"My talent is average. But I have the strongest tenacity in all of Mount Hua. I've never seen Muhwi give up on anything."
"What, tenacity? You chose him based on that? Hmph..."
"Disciples with other brilliant talents will grow strong on their own. But Muhwi... he'll struggle. It's the master's role to raise someone ordinary into a true master. That's what martial teaching is all about."
"The role of a master, huh... In that case, I guess I'm not cut out for it."
'Wait a second.'
As he recalled his conversation with Hyeonjo, Muhwi was struck by a realization.
Would Mount Hua truly change just because he created a new sword technique as Hyeonjo's successor?
'That's not possible.'
It had only been possible because Hyeonjo had cared for and wanted to reform Mount Hua.
But Hyeonjo was no longer here.
So now, who would take on the role of guiding disciples down the right path with the new sword techniques as a guiding light?
'Turns out, this is a much more troublesome job than I thought.'
In all of Mount Hua, only one person knew Hyeonjo's will—Muhwi. And naturally, he was the only one who could carry on that role.
'If I ever see you again in the afterlife, I'll owe you a drink, old man.'
With a wry smile, Muhwi gritted his teeth and turned his gaze to the second-generation disciples practicing the Six Harmonies Sword Technique.
How he led them would depend entirely on his own ability.
'They say the plum blossoms of Mount Hua bloom with different tempers and different scents.'
From his perspective, it would be easier to handpick the most talented disciples and focus on training only them.
That's what the Sword Demon of his past life would have done.
Because it was efficient.
But he was not the Sword Demon now—he was the First Senior Brother.
The one who would lead all the second-generation disciples of Mount Hua.
Muhwi had decided not to leave a single one behind.
That was the way best suited for him—and for Mount Hua.
Mount Hua had given him a new chance.
There was no need to live the same life as before. This time, he would try to live a life that was fitting for Mount Hua.
'I didn't even properly teach the few disciples I had before, and now I've got to spoon-feed this whole bunch.'
In his past life, the Sword Demon had always focused on elevating his own martial state and had neglected teaching his disciples.
Looking back now, he realized that the Sword Demon hadn't been a very good teacher—certainly not like Hyeonjo.
'That guy would survive even in the pits of hell, but I wonder what he's doing now…'
As Muhwi briefly lost himself in nostalgic thoughts, he instinctively caught the subtle faltering of the disciples' swords.
"How many swings have you done, and your wooden sword's already shaking?"
Muhwi's shout—seemingly more forceful than before—rang across the training grounds once more.
Watching his fellow disciples drenched in sweat as if it were pouring rain, Muhwi thought to himself:
He may never be a perfect teacher, but at the very least, he could try to be a decent First Brother.
And that, perhaps, would be the first step toward true change.
ou must first change yourself—only then can you change your disciples and Mount Hua.
"Plum blossoms, huh..."
Muhwi suddenly found himself curious.
What kind of plum blossoms would each of his fellow disciples bloom? What kind of scent would each one carry? And what kind of scent would his own blossom have?
Bit by bit, Muhwi was beginning to stain his new path with the colors and fragrance of Mount Hua.
After finishing dawn training and dismissing the second-generation disciples, Muhwi headed straight for Maeseogak.
Maeseogak was located within a small gorge deeper inside Yeonhwabong, and at the entrance to the gorge lay a wide forest made entirely of plum trees.
These plum trees all bloomed with red blossoms, and so the disciples of Mount Hua often referred to the forest as Hongnim—the Crimson Grove.
Muhwi stepped toward the Crimson Grove, thick with the rich scent of plum blossoms.
< The One Who Leads Mount Hua's Second-Generation Disciples > — End
< A Conversation at Maeseogak >