Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Chapter 82 : Return

Return

The area magistrate's prediction that the people here would praise Jeong-un's group was not wrong.

As they rode their horses, receiving a warm send-off and passing through the grand gate of the Jeongmu Sect, several hundred people stood waiting for them ahead.

All of them were villagers.

Upon hearing the news that Jeong-un's party was leaving, they had each come in their own way to stand and wait for their appearance.

"My lord, thank you!"

"I will never forget the great favor of the honorable hero for as long as I live!"

These were people who had suffered under the bandits for more than two months.

Their lives were already difficult due to an unprecedented famine caused by a long drought.

On top of that, even the inter-village trade—the only means to obtain food—had been severed by those villains, so it must have been unbearably hard.

"Thank you so much...!"

"Thank you, great hero!"

Among the elderly, some even bowed deeply.

They were people who had lived through many years on this land.

They knew just how rare a martial artist who acts with justice and without thought of reward truly was.

"......"

Jeong-un passed by them slowly on horseback without any particular response.

The line of people bowing and giving thanks stretched all the way to the exit of the village.

Jeong-un did not look at them, simply fixing his cold gaze straight ahead at where he needed to go.

Only after the party had completely left the village did Jo Gwang speak up to Jeong-un with a hint of regret.

"Why didn't you at least wave to them?"

His own chest felt stirred, and he looked truly moved by the people's reaction.

But as Jeong-un, taking the lead, advanced with an indifferent face, the rest had quietly followed his lead.

Given his temperament, Jo Gwang would have warmly responded to the villagers' gratitude, but he had restrained himself for the sake of the group.

Jeong-un slowly shook his head.

"Their lives will go on even after we leave. Something like this could happen again. Each time, not someone will step forward to help. So..."

"...?"

"I would rather they not be so thankful to us. I hope they can see us as just another group of martial artists. That way..."

Jeong-un trailed off, hoping the people would not nurture unrealistic expectations of martial artists.

That was what he wished.

It was one thing to place hope in the Jeongmu Sect, which had now established itself here.

They were more of a cooperative ally to the people.

Jeong-un recalled how, when he was at the Yu household, Yu Jung-mun would often talk about the Five Star Gate Leader and the concerns of the common folk.

At the time, it had sounded trivial, but in their own way, they might have served as a local militia.

'We're different.'

But for those like themselves, who only stayed briefly before moving on, the situation was different.

They were wandering martial artists drifting across the Central Plains.

Could a wandering martial artist, whom a commoner merely happened to encounter, be considered a benefit?

It was hard to nod in agreement at that idea.

More often than not, martial artists used their skills to intimidate and exploit the commoners.

Some might just take what food or supplies they needed and move on. That was the world they lived in now.

So Jeong-un hoped the people would not place their hope in such wandering martial artists.

Depending on the help of others always left them vulnerable.

With that thought concluded, he spoke again.

"No matter how hard things get, I hope their lives become sturdier."

"......"

Walking alongside him, Baek Il-gang gave Jeong-un a peculiar look.

After all, he was a person who had refused even the purse of silver coins the area magistrate had offered the night before.

No one would have complained if he had accepted it as a rightful reward, yet he showed a strange indifference to wealth and fame.

'It hasn't even been a year.'

Jeong-un had said he'd never wandered the martial world before entering the Heavenly Martial Hall.

That meant he had very little experience traveling the martial world.

Perhaps that was why his understanding of the martial world was so limited.

He had sometimes claimed to have stayed cooped up in his room, but Baek Il-gang did not believe that.

The man was always so modest, after all.

And no one would think, after seeing that well-trained body, that he had done nothing but remain indoors as a child.

'How could that be?'

Improving one's martial skills requires endless training, always alternating between fundamentals and real combat.

If one could advance by merely circulating energy and reading a secret manual, then anyone in the world would already be a master.

If Jeong-un had really stayed in his room throughout his childhood, there was no way he could be this strong.

In that sense, to Baek Il-gang, Jeong-un was a hard-to-read and peculiar man—bearing both the refined air of a young master and the deep martial prowess that belied his age, yet sometimes less knowledgeable of the martial world than ordinary commoners.

But sometimes, like a moment ago, he would say something quite unexpected.

'Not letting them place hope...'

In fact, Baek Il-gang had wondered about Jeong-un's silent departure from the village.

But having seen him act according to particular reasons before, Baek Il-gang just went along quietly this time as well.

Upon considering, Jeong-un was not wrong.

The lives of ordinary people were too fragile to rely on martial artists.

Among them, people often said that never once encountering a martial artist in their lifetime was a stroke of great fortune.

It was because misfortune generally followed encounters with martial artists.

Perhaps that was why, despite their difficult lives, few believed in shamanistic faiths.

It was understandable—why would they serve invisible gods when living superhumans walked before their eyes?

Most of the religious sects that flourished in history were martial groups after all.

'Giving them this kind of help does not really change anything.'

For an average person to live strong on this land, a heart even sturdier than that of martial artists was required—a spirit like that of grass, which bends under strong wind but never breaks.

Only then could they survive.

"Let's go."

With that, he gradually increased the horses' pace.

The fine horses, cared for expertly by the Jeongmu Sect, galloped vigorously.

Meanwhile, Jeong-un pondered to himself.

'I'm glad I joined the Heavenly Martial Hall.'

Even as he feigned composure, his chest swelled at the villagers' praise.

Doing something helpful for someone and receiving their thanks—it could be an ordinary thing, but for Jeong-un, it became a vivid memory.

Thus, the idea of justice began to sprout in the boy's heart.

* * *

The journey back was quite chilly.

From spring to summer, and now from summer into autumn—two seasons had already changed since they had entered the Hall.

The heat shimmering from the ground had faded, and the clear, cool air brushed against their ears.

"How does it feel, completing your first mission as a two-stripes?"

"I'm not sure. I feel like nothing's really changed."

Tang Yerin asked with a smile, and Jeong-un replied.

It was true.

Aside from having an extra thread of gold on his left sleeve, not much else had changed.

After all, how much could a life of repeated training and missions truly change?

'I don't know why everyone is so obsessed about it.'

Everyone competed over how many stripes they could earn in five years?

It all seemed pointless in Jeong-un's eyes.

In the end, it required one to complete missions to earn merit, and for that, one needed advanced martial skills.

Conversely, if one just honed their skills deeply, the merit and reward would follow naturally.

But so many seemed to think the opposite.

As if they only desired rewards without putting in any real effort.

Even now, it was strange to recall those rising stars who, afraid of rumors of defeat spreading, had secretly come to challenge him to duels at the private training halls.

Tang Yerin glanced at Jeong-un and smiled slyly.

'He says nothing's changed.'

Of course, things had changed. More than anything, the way people saw him had changed.

In the vast martial world, even renowned martial artists rarely had the chance even to see each other's faces, let alone duel.

Although rumors spread swiftly from city to city, it wasn't as though people would go mad and randomly challenge each other to duels.

There was simply no reason to.

If one's reputation became widely known, it meant, by then, they already had the skills and honor for a prosperous life.

Why risk that in a duel they might lose?

'Which is why everyone is so obsessed with building their reputation.'

A reputation, once built, was not easily torn down.

If one established themselves on fertile land, creating a clan or a sect, their position only became more solid.

Thus, the annual general test at the Heavenly Martial Hall attracted massive numbers of applicants.

This was different from the special test, where people entered to uphold their sect's honor.

Those who came for the general test did so purely in pursuit of self-realization and fame.

If they entered and successfully completed their training, a lifetime of comfort was virtually guaranteed.

And earning two or more stripes brought untold fame.

As Jo Gwang had said, wherever they went, they would receive treatment as honored guests.

"You're always in the private training hall, so people might not know your face well, but everyone knows about Young Hero Jeong-un. Didn't you also receive the Cloud Dragon Token from the elder of Mount Hua?"

At Tang Yerin's words, Jeong-un nodded.

The Cloud Dragon Token had been given to him by Cheong Jin of Mount Hua, who said it was the fastest path to the martial world.

It was indeed true.

Had he wandered the Central Plains alone instead of coming to the Hall, could he have accumulated this much experience?

Even a casual thought made him shake his head.

'I should pay my respects at least once.'

Apparently, there had been much discussion within Mount Hua over Cheong Jin giving the Cloud Dragon Token to an outsider.

Someday, if he got an assignment in Shaanxi, he might have to deliberately visit the Mount Hua Sect.

"Then, does that mean one of the Mount Hua disciples didn't get to take the special test?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"Huh, they must've been pretty annoyed."

"Who knows? I heard that disciple entered safely anyway."

"How do you know, young lady?"

"Well, word gets around."

Baek Il-gang asked, and Tang Yerin shrugged.

Living closely with her every day, one occasionally forgot, but Tang Yerin was the precious golden branch and jade leaf of the Tang Clan, a renowned martial lineage.

If she wanted information, her authority would make it easy to get.

As the direct granddaughter of the clan head of the Tang Clan in Sichuan, her status was truly exceptional.

She acted easy-going among their party and was deliberately unpretentious, but her pale, flawless skin was enough to draw attention.

Even Jeong-un, when someone respectfully approached Tang Yerin, would be reminded all over again of her status.

Jo Gwang spoke up.

"Oh, do you mean that Mount Hua disciple active in the Red Dragon Corps? I've heard of him. They say he completes missions at blinding speed. Wasn't he called Yunha?"

"I've heard of him, too,"

Baek Il-gang added, causing Jo Gwang to look at him in surprise.

"This is the first time I've seen you interested in someone."

"Well, it would be impossible not to know him. He ranked second in the general test."

At that, Jo Gwang clapped his knee as if he remembered.

"That's right, wasn't Light-Flowing Sword the one who ranked first? People were talking about how surprising it was—how a Mount Hua disciple not only took the general test but also lost first place."

Jeong-un also knew Light-Flowing Sword well. After all, it was someone who gave him deep inspiration during their duel.

'He took the general test, huh.'

He also recalled hearing the story about that Mount Hua disciple before—from none other than his senior disciple, Baek Sang.

Back then, Jeong-un felt vaguely uncomfortable, as if he had undeservedly stolen someone's place.

'... It's enough that I was admitted.'

Jeong-un continued galloping forward in silence.

They would soon arrive at Hanyang Prefecture.