Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Chapter 64 : Reunion

Reunion

Seomun Jin stood frozen in place.

He had simply opened his tightly shut eyes wide, belatedly trying to make sense of the situation.

"What...?"

Only then did he realize what had happened.

His opponent hadn't even brought his sword to his neck.

At the moment of attack, seeing Seomun Jin tightly shut his eyes, the opponent had withdrawn his sword instead.

'This is insane.'

It was certainly a humiliating defeat.

It was barely appropriate to even say that a proper duel had taken place.

'... Did I just lose? And in such an absurd way?'

From a young age, Seomun Jin had been hailed as a prodigy in Xuzhou Prefecture. It was only natural.

The Seomun clan was one of the prestigious martial families in Jiangxi province, and Seomun Jin was the second son of the clan head.

The luxuries enjoyed by the direct bloodline of a famous clan were incredible.

He had eaten elixirs as if they were regular meals since childhood.

Of course, he had an extraordinary amount of accumulated energy.

He had deeply studied the clan's unique martial art, the Falling Blossom Severing Sword Technique (落花盡斬劍法).

It was the sublime martial art that had once made his grandfather famous as one of the Three Great Swordsmen of the world.

There were also endless stories about his outstanding martial talent.

Entering the Heavenly Martial Hall was merely the next logical step.

There were even rumors that he would depart after stacking up at least three stripes.

Yet, upon entering, he discovered it was not as easy as he'd thought.

If people called it a cradle for prodigies, it was for a reason.

Still, he had not been impatient.

Achieving two stripes within three years was not a slow pace at all.

Even leaving with just two stripes would have earned him praise as exceptionally capable.

And if all went well, perhaps he really could achieve three stripes before leaving.

'But...'

Seomun Jin's eyes trembled as he gazed blankly at the boy before him.

It wasn't simply because he had lost the duel.

'Who on earth is this guy...?'

There are differences in innate understanding of martial arts—what usually is called talent.

It's different from acquired things, like the amount of accumulated energy or the profundity of one's learned martial arts.

It's simply a difference in natural aptitude.

For the first time, Seomun Jin was encountering a genius who stood in a realm distinct from his own.

"Aren't you coming?"

"Ah, no, that is..."

Meanwhile, Gongsun Yeong was avoiding the boy's jet-black eyes.

At some point, his hands, which had been clasped behind his back in composure, were now wandering awkwardly in the air.

"How...what on earth just happened?"

Gongsun Yeong, too, was a two-striped warrior.

There's no way he didn't understand what had just happened.

'That much, really...?'

Merely having a vast accumulation of energy didn't guarantee victory.

The same was true for high-level martial arts: just learning them didn't necessarily make one a master.

What people call talent was more important—a body with natural balance, keen intuition to read an opponent's momentum, a sense for manipulating true ki.

These were qualities shared by all those referred to as geniuses.

Gongsun Yeong knew this very well.

He himself had grown up being called a martial prodigy all his life.

That's why he understood just how unbelievable Jeong-un's technique had been.

He read the cultivated power in his opponent's sword—and met it with precisely the same amount of true ki?

Even calling that skill was insufficient.

'That's not possible.'

Gongsun Yeong calculated instantly.

If it came to a duel, he would lose for certain.

He corrected his posture, lowered his head, and brought his fists together in respect.

"Your martial arts are indeed sublime. They say a genius can bring a sword of the mind into reality with a flash of ingenuity, and it is truly so."

"Yes?"

Jeong-un furrowed his brow slightly at the display.

There was something different about his attitude.

"You're not going to duel?"

"Me?"

Gongsun Yeong's eyes opened wide, then he couldn't help but laugh, waving his hands.

"It was my friend there who intended a duel with Young Hero Yu from the start. I only came along as an observer. Someone had to witness the result, don't you think?"

"An observer?"

"Ah, of course, just watching excellent martial arts is helpful in itself. That's how it is for me today. It felt as if eyes that had been long clouded have suddenly opened. You have my deepest thanks, young hero."

"......"

Jeong-un felt puzzled inside.

An observer was necessary for a duel? He'd never heard of that before.

'... I suppose I should be relieved.'

Though the duel just now had ended in a flash, that didn't mean there was no fatigue.

They said the children of famous families accumulate ki and martial skills from a young age; clearly, this was no exaggeration.

A single bold step showed the logic of advanced footwork, and even a light swing of the sword was imbued with profound cultivated power.

'That was close.'

He could see at a glance he could not overwhelm by sheer power.

He had matched the opponent's sword with just the right amount of true ki.

After that, his movements had been mostly instinctive.

He quickly realized that the longer the fight dragged on, the less chance he would have.

He moved in the best way possible to secure victory.

Though some of his responses had become rather unorthodox as a result, it apparently didn't leave a bad impression.

'And I was just about to worry how I'd manage the next duel with my remaining true ki.'

Jeong-un's gaze at Gongsun Yeong's smiling face was slightly regretful.

A warrior's body always reflected the martial arts they cultivated.

A Shaolin monk learned Tendon Transformation and had a solid body, while a master who trained in Wudang's Taiji Sword would have a flexible and resilient strength.

That's partly why he'd looked forward to a duel with Gongsun Yeong.

The man had a lean physique, yet there was unmistakable discipline in his movements.

Surely, his sword technique mirrored the temperament of his learned martial arts—Jeong-un had been curious to see it.

"So you really won't?"

"That's right, I will not."

"You could just—"

"I'm fine."

The response was resolute.

Jeong-un could only nod in disappointment.

Just then, Gongsun Yeong resumed speaking.

"You're from the Yu household, correct? Hanzhong is an area our clan frequents in trade. I will be sure to inform my father and extend greetings with a gift."

"I appreciate the thought, but I have severed all ties with my clan. I am completely on my own."

"Truly?"

Gongsun Yeong's face brightened at once.

Jeong-un looked at him in disbelief.

"Then, once you have left the hall—or even in the middle of a mission—please visit our clan. I'll welcome you as an honored guest."

"... That is unnecessary."

"No need to refuse. Please consider it a token of my goodwill."

"Understood."

Gongsun Yeong seemed delighted at having struck up a friendship with Jeong-un, raising his fists in respect before moving over to the still-stunned Seomun Jin.

"Have you still not picked up your fallen sword? Pull yourself together, man. You've hindered Young Hero Yu's training for long enough, haven't you?"

"......"

They all departed, each with a different expression.

Thus ended the long-awaited first duel between two-striped warriors.

* * *

For a while, things were quiet.

Though there were still glances cast at him now and then, no one else came to his private training hall to challenge him to a duel.

Then some welcome news reached him.

Baek Il-gang, Jo Gwang, and Tang Yerin, who had gone out on a mission, had all returned.

He hadn't seen their faces in quite some time.

'They said they're safe.'

He recalled the time he'd managed to send word for help in a single moment of quick thinking.

Because the situation was so urgent, he'd actually had to kick Jo Gwang to get him to run.

Still, Jo Gwang was a martial artist—he should have been fine.

As dusk approached, Jeong-un was on his way back early to his quarters for some introspective training.

He encountered three figures waiting outside the Blue Scale Hall.

"Young Hero Yu!"

An unusually high, brash voice for a man—one he recognized well.

He saw Jo Gwang waving enthusiastically and calling out.

"Has everyone been well?"

Jeong-un smiled as he returned the salute, his gaze radiating clear joy at their return.

None of their faces had changed much.

On second thought, not much time had really passed.

But their expressions and bearing seemed firmer—they must have devoted themselves to training.

At that moment, Jo Gwang, who stood at the front, stepped up and spoke.

"I—I didn't realize you thought so highly of me, young hero Yu. To throw yourself like that to save me in that situation...!"

"No, it wasn't as dramatic as—"

"True, my arm did break, but it was an urgent situation! There was no helping it!"

"Your arm broke?"

"And listen to you worrying again! It's completely healed now."

Then, Baek Il-gang spoke up from beside him.

"I heard you found those cultists and called for reinforcements, resulting in our total victory. Is that correct?"

"The white hawk was truly a spiritual creature. No lightness skill could have carried a letter faster than it delivered that message."

Jeong-un replied calmly, and Baek Il-gang smiled wryly, gazing at him.

Then Baek Il-gang spoke suddenly, almost as if muttering.

"You always defy expectations."

"Yes?"

"I never doubted that you'd be alive. No matter how I thought about it, I just couldn't imagine you dying, young hero Yu. But instead of returning after that incident, you managed to achieve something else? What kind of mindset does it take to be so bold?"

"You exaggerate, that doesn't suit you."

"Thank you."

"...?"

Jeong-un looked at him in puzzlement, but Baek Il-gang averted his gaze, as if he'd said all that just to express gratitude.

"You surprise me with words like that."

"So you thought I was rude and arrogant, didn't you?"

Baek Il-gang's curt reply betrayed a certain shyness.

Jeong-un just let out a laugh.

"Young hero Jeong-un..."

It was Tang Yerin's voice, quietly observing from the side.

But her expression seemed a little strange.

She kept opening her mouth to say something, then shutting it again.

"...?"

Jeong-un looked at her curiously. Eventually, holding his gaze, she dropped her head and muttered softly.

"... I'm ashamed. After bragging so much, I couldn't do anything... You completely risked your life to save us... And even when the call for help came, I wasn't there. I may have had my own mission, but in the end, I couldn't help at all..."

"That's more than enough."

Jeong-un, listening silently to her murmurs, suddenly spoke up.

Tang Yerin looked up at him in surprise.

Meeting her eyes, Jeong-un nodded and said,

"That's enough. I wanted to save you, lady Tang, and you survived. I'm safe too, so as long as we're both alive, isn't that enough?"

Tang Yerin's eyes trembled slightly.

Unconsciously, she took a step forward.

In response, Jeong-un instinctively took a step back, his movement naturally infused with the essence of Moonlight Swift Steps.

"...?"

Sensing something odd, Tang Yerin stepped towards him again, and Jeong-un again stepped back, the spacing perfectly calibrated.

"... Young Hero Jeong-un?"

Tang Yerin called out in a daze, while Jeong-un thought to himself,

'How many hidden weapons coated with poison does she have?'

Were they called the Demon-Faced Three Hounds?

He could still picture the face of one of the Dark Path men he'd met on Nokmun Mountain.

He'd gotten just a slight scratch from one of Tang Yerin's hidden weapons and had become poisoned immediately.

The victim's face had gone from ashen to a pitch-black mask of death.

He couldn't even guess what sort of poison it was.

Staring at Tang Yerin's large, puzzled eyes, Jeong-un muttered to himself,

'If I give up distance, I'll be wide open.'

I need to be careful. The martial world is a frightening place, after all.