"Ah… yes?"
"..."
"Ah…! I—I'm sorry. So this is—"
Caught off guard by Cheon U-ha's cold question, Cho Mu-do broke out in a cold sweat and scrambled for an excuse.
Why had he come inside? Of course—to protect the young master in case something unexpected happened. But…
Why is the Chaotic Ghost Sword smashed to pieces?
And not just beaten—utterly and one-sidedly crushed.
Cho Mu-do turned his head slightly and saw Seol An-geum's face, equally full of shock. That meant Seol An-geum hadn't expected this either.
As Cho Mu-do desperately tried to think of an explanation—
"Instructor Cho."
"Yes, yes?"
"I asked why you opened the door."
Meeting Cheon U-ha's voice-cold gaze, Cho Mu-do finally gave a rueful smile and answered honestly.
"…Forgive me. I was worried something might happen to you, young master."
"Worried…?"
Cheon U-ha narrowed his eyes and looked down at his own body. Once again he noticed how small and fragile it appeared. A growing child's frame; there were no obvious trained muscles.
I don't exactly look solid, do I.
True, the inner energy he'd been accumulating since before he could walk made him in no way an ordinary child—but outwardly he looked weak.
Once called the Heavenly Martial Ghost and feared by many, he now found himself the object of others' worries. The irony made him smirk inwardly.
Still… it's not as unpleasant as I thought it would be.
Compared to being treated like a god or a phantom in his past life, this was almost refreshing.
Abandoning any further reproach of Cho Mu-do, Cheon U-ha glanced at the fallen Jang Ui-bo and spoke.
"Could you take care of him, please?"
"Ah… yes."
Cho Mu-do blinked in confusion at the sudden change of tone.
"Don't worry. But… what exactly happened in there—?"
"I'm too lazy to explain."
Waving Cho Mu-do off, Cheon U-ha glanced once at Jang Ui-bo.
"He insulted my father. Toss him outside the main gate or something."
"L-leaving him outside? That's not acceptable!"
Startled, Cho Mu-do protested.
"It's true the Chaotic Ghost Sword acted rudely, but he came on Brother Seol's recommendation and by the head merchant's invitation. The proper thing is to heal him and send him back."
"Even to someone who insulted the head of the guild?"
"Of course your suggestion would be satisfying, young master. But it would only make an enemy of the Yongmyeong Guild. It's better for the guild's future to extend a hand. That's the wiser path."
"…Hmm."
Hearing Cho Mu-do's reasonable argument, Cheon U-ha slowly nodded, then walked past him toward the warehouse exit.
"Handle it as you see fit."
"Yes, I will."
Cheon U-ha left with his hands behind his back; Cho Mu-do, without realizing, dropped into a respectful stance as the young master departed.
Spotting Seol An-geum outside the warehouse, Cheon U-ha approached him as if pleased.
"May I have a word?"
"Ah… young master."
Seol An-geum, still a little stunned that Jang Ui-bo had been defeated, looked down embarrassedly. Cheon U-ha stepped close and lowered his voice.
"I feel you might be personally acquainted with that Jang Ui-bo. When he wakes, could you give him a message for me?"
"Hmm… that shouldn't be hard. What shall I tell him?"
Seol An-geum nodded, and Cheon U-ha's eyes traced a slow curve as he composed the line.
"'Calamity comes from the mouth; the mouth has lips—closing them can prevent calamity.' (禍出於口, 而口則有脣, 闔之可以防禍也)."
"…Eh?"
"All right, then. I leave it to you."
Step, step.
Saying that, he walked on. Seol An-geum watched the boy go, his face a mixture of confusion and dismay.
"…So."
Cheon Myeong-hak took a measured breath to organize what he'd heard so far. Maybe he'd misheard Cho Mu-do. It was possible. Anxiety and impatience might have warped his understanding. He rehearsed the questions he wanted to ask in his head, then spoke haltingly.
"So… you're saying our U-ha… bet with the Chaotic Ghost Sword and—he won?"
"…Yes."
"Even if it was a simplified match… he actually duelled and won?"
"I understand your disbelief."
Cho Mu-do gave a wry smile at the unmistakable distrust in Cheon Myeong-hak's tone. Who could blame him? Even Cho Mu-do himself, who'd seen Jang Ui-bo fall, had doubted his memory.
"But it's a fact. I don't know the precise conditions arranged in advance for the match, but it happened."
"Huh…"
Still, Cheon Myeong-hak could scarcely accept it. Even if the match had special terms, how could a child who'd only learned martial arts a short while ago defeat a Wulin master?
He could not help asking bluntly.
"What conditions were set that made that possible?"
At last, frustration broke through.
"If he wasn't tied down at least by both arms and one leg… No, that's not it. It's more plausible that the man wasn't the real Chaotic Ghost Sword. Are you all conspiring to trick me?"
"The Chaotic Ghost Sword's identity was vouched for by Brother Seol. And it was you, Guildmaster, who brought Brother Seol here."
"Hmm…"
"I and Brother Seol did put forth some disadvantageous terms, but we both lost that bet with the young master. That is why we dare use the word 'genius'. I assure you, if you brought anyone else, you'd see the same reaction from us."
"Huh…"
Cheon Myeong-hak exhaled and leaned back in his chair. A child who'd never trained long in martial arts was continually exceeding expectations laid down by experienced vagabond masters. Even a man like him, ignorant of martial things, could sense this was no ordinary talent.
Trying to accept the facts as objectively as possible, he asked:
"Then… what should we do now?"
"Are you asking about the Chaotic Ghost Sword, or about the young master?"
"Both."
"You needn't worry about the Chaotic Ghost Sword too much. Despite being humiliated, I expect he appreciates the Guild's courtesy. As for the young master…"
Cho Mu-do paused, choosing his words, then let out a short sigh.
"I don't want to say this lightly, but the best answer probably comes from the Chaotic Ghost Sword himself."
"Why is that?"
"Neither Brother Seol nor I can precisely gauge the young master's capacity. But my guess is that Jang Ui-bo was better able to measure it."
Cho Mu-do remembered the scene when he'd opened the door—the sword strikes Cheon U-ha had used to batter Jang Ui-bo. Those moves were clearly formed techniques, not something Cho Mu-do himself had taught.
What I taught him were mere basics: slices and thrusts.
If Cheon U-ha hadn't secretly learned other sword arts, the only explanation was that he'd watched Jang Ui-bo's moves and imitated them. If that hypothesis holds—
This isn't something you can call mere talent.
Cho Mu-do felt unqualified to say so, but even to his eyes this surpassed 'genius.' Words like 'demon' or 'monster' came to mind rather than ordinary praise. Still, he hastily pushed away such extremes.
"For now, the most accurate evaluation will come from the Chaotic Ghost Sword once he recovers. Until then, don't make premature judgments."
"Sigh… I understand."
He nodded and exhaled a long breath, feeling as if he'd been through a small war. To have pushed his bookish son toward learning self-defense, only to have it escalate into something like this… it left him baffled.
Which should I encourage now—scholarship or martial arts?
The worry returned to clamp down on his head.
"Ugh… uhm…"
"Oh? Brother Jang, are you coming to?"
"Seol… An-geum?"
Jang Ui-bo faintly opened his eyes, searching for the owner of the familiar voice. His skull pounded and his face throbbed, but his blurry vision gradually cleared. After a moment he made out Seol An-geum's face and looked around, puzzled.
"Where… am I?"
"You're in an annex of the Yongmyeong Guild."
"The Yongmyeong Guild…?"
As Seol An-geum answered, Jang Ui-bo slowly pieced his memory back together. Yes—he had come to the Yongmyeong Guild with Seol An-geum. He'd been provoked by a cheeky young master and had dueled him.
"…An-geum."
"Yes?"
"Why am I lying here?"
Seol An-geum avoided his eyes awkwardly and answered.
"You… don't remember anything?"
"I don't remember nothing at all. I recall dueling the young master and thinking it was more substantial than I expected… perhaps."
As he spoke, a memory struck him and his eyes widened.
"…Ugh!"
"Brother Jang, are you all right?"
When the recollection hit, a dizzying pain flashed through him and he clutched his forehead. His ashen face took on an expression far more serious than before.
He imitated my Ghost Sword Triple Kill…!
Copied—or rather, stolen. And what felled him in the end was not merely the Ghost Sword Triple Kill but something far beyond: the final technique had produced five afterimages.
And each of those afterimages moved along subtly different trajectories.
As the memory came back, a chill ran through him. What in heaven's name was this? To see one's secret move imitated perfectly after only a glance—and then to have that move developed further in just two attempts—was unthinkable.
Maybe he already knew that form from the start?
No—that made no sense. If the boy had already mastered such an advanced linking technique, why drag a wandering master like him into tutoring?
If he learned and immediately improvised my Ghost Sword Triple Kill during the match…
…That would be monstrous. 'Monster' didn't even cover it. An advanced linking technique arises from decades of solitary refinement, sudden insights gained across a lifetime. For a child to grasp the essence in the heat of battle and evolve it on the spot—that's divine. If such a being exists, no one would object to calling them a martial god.
And one other thing remained vivid in Jang Ui-bo's mind—
That gaze.
The young master's eyes while striking: not anger, not fear, not excitement—no human emotion at all. It was blank indifference, as if squashing an insignificant insect. Jang Ui-bo, who'd seen a great deal in the martial world, had never seen such eyes in combat.
While Jang Ui-bo sat frozen in confusion, Seol An-geum leaned close with a worried voice.
"…Are you all right, Brother Jang?"
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