Chapter 243
There had been more than a few unexpected incidents, and as a result, worries and tasks had piled up.
Still, after wrapping up my time at the Black Lotus Sect, I was finally on the road back to the Tang Clan.
And today again, Seo Mun-Hwarin was up in arms.
She looked like a squirrel caught hiding an acorn in a tree knot and suddenly locking eyes with a person.
But her voice that followed was far more threatening—about on the level of a territorial tree squirrel.
“If you do that, it’s no longer the Strong Thunder Sword! The Thunder Heaven Divine Art draws its essence from the thunder and lightning that strikes from the heavens! It may be noisy, but it’s a martial art that makes no compromises in power!”
“That may be true. The Thunder Roar Steps I use are fundamentally different from yours, after all. But no matter how powerful a sword may be, it only matters if it actually hits, don’t you think?”
While I used rapid acceleration and abrupt halts to create fast and unpredictable movements, Seo Mun-Hwarin employed those same dynamics to disrupt her opponent’s rhythm, pressuring and overwhelming them.
In short, while I looked for or lured out an opening to pierce through, Seo Mun-Hwarin charged in head-on to force that opening.
This difference was partly because, before my regression, Seo Mun-Hwarin had adjusted the Thunder Roar Steps for me to match the Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art. But it also stemmed from how she spent her childhood in the Seo Mun Clan, seeing complete martial arts systems with her own eyes, later recovering her clan’s martial arts, mastering them independently, and reaching the Flowering Stage.
Whereas I had simply picked up anything that worked, patching together martial arts stolen from here and there,
only retaining the insights I found useful, tailoring them to suit myself—that’s how I reached where I am now.
So even though we agreed to restore Thunder Heaven Divine Art together, in the end, I could only do so in my own way.
Of course, one might ask—if the manual still exists, why bother “restoring” anything?
But secret techniques from famous clans like the Seo Mun Clan in their prime often had obscure chants written in deliberately difficult language, in case the manuals ever leaked.
That meant they couldn’t be mastered with just the text. You needed someone to interpret the chants orally.
Naturally, that method of interpretation was passed down not in writing, but through oral tradition.
Seo Mun-Hwarin, being a daughter of the clan who’d only learned a few self-defense techniques as a child, had recovered the manual and reclaimed the roots of her clan’s martial arts through talent and practical combat experience, reaching the Flowering Stage.
Still, if asked whether she truly understood all of the Thunder Heaven Divine Art, even she wouldn’t be certain. So restoring it held great significance for her, too.
That said... this is this, and that is that.
“Think about it, Senior Seo Mun-Hwarin. As you just said, swinging the sword that way might be more powerful. But the movements are too large. The enemy could easily read and counter them.”
“Hmph! That’s exactly why the Thunder Roar Steps exist! To suppress the opponent so they can neither move forward nor back, then strike at the decisive moment!”
“That sounds like clinging to a rigid technique and accepting inefficiencies. I’m not saying it’s impossible—but are you really using those wide strikes as opening forms?”
“T-That’s...”
“I may not know much, but I’ve seen far more martial arts than you, Senior. Sure, they’re mostly low-grade techniques, but I’ve studied enough to see patterns.”
I never had proper training in ascension-level martial arts before regression, and in this life, I’d only studied a few from the Tang Clan and some of the Seo Mun Clan’s sword techniques.
But when it came to third-rate or first-rate techniques, I’d absorbed them by the truckload.
While the depth varied, martial arts—being designed to deal with people—shared a common structure.
For example, very few were purely offensive with no defensive forms.
From what I’d heard from Seo Mun-Hwarin and what I’d read in the manual, Thunder Heaven Divine Art was aggressive, yes, but not to such an extreme degree.
Usually, the opening forms—those used to test an opponent’s strength or to block attacks—are weaker in power but leave fewer openings.
And that’s how most martial arts start—by first learning how to protect your own body.
Killing your opponent while sacrificing your own life, or a limb, doesn’t suit the ideals of the orthodox sects, nor the goals of wealth and prestige pursued by the unorthodox ones.
Maybe assassins would use such tactics—those who brainwash and sacrifice people like disposable tools. But the Seo Mun Clan, in its prime, was no assassins’ guild.
“That’s why I think we need to interpret this differently. The phrase ‘Heaven’s Thunder Sword—engrave the thunder’ doesn’t mean to bring down your sword with explosive force like lightning and leave a thunderous impact. Rather, it means swing swiftly like lightning, subtly reminding your opponent that thunder could come from anywhere—creating psychological pressure.”
“So like this?”
Seo Mun-Hwarin puffed up her cheeks like a pufferfish and waved her hand through the air.
At first glance, it looked like a meaningless motion, but she was simply showing it slowly for clarity.
If you looked closely, you’d find countless insights and concepts embedded in that motion.
However...
“Senior Seo Mun-Hwarin.”
“Yes???”
She tilted her head and looked at me. Whether she realized it or not, her innocent expression didn’t suit her age—yet was strangely cute.
Still, I had to say it.
“Swords don’t have joints.”
“But you use your wrist and elbow to twist the sword around all the time!”
“That’s a trick derived from illusion-based techniques.
Swinging like that sacrifices not just power, but speed. Are you trying to turn Thunder Heaven Divine Art into a sword dance?”
Seo Mun-Hwarin trembled with an expression like I’d just accused her of a crime.
But I had more to say.
“Did you know that the sword and body are fundamentally separate? Many fail to grasp true unity between sword and self, even at the highest levels.”
“Still, there’s a core essence to martial arts. Why do you keep trying to discard one half of it?”
“We have to look beyond forms—to the entire martial art.
Unlike fist techniques, where you can use your body directly, it’s hard to express perfect offense and defense with a sword.
Often, attempts to do both result in a clumsy middle ground.”
“B-But...”
Seo Mun-Hwarin pursed her lips, looking utterly wronged.
I shook my head firmly.
“Haa. You really can’t talk swordsmanship with someone who doesn’t use swords. You make such great points halfway through—why do you always fall apart at the end?”
Her expression instantly turned sharp. If I had to describe it, she looked like that angry squirrel again—about to drop pinecones on someone for invading its territory.
Just as she growled and opened her mouth to retort—
Thunk.
Something knocked on the qi barrier we’d set up to prevent our conversation from leaking.
There’s only one reason someone would tap on it directly—it meant they had business with us.
Only after verifying that Seo Mun-Hwarin had stored away the Thunder Heaven manual did I dispel the barrier. A calm voice came through.
“Do you have a moment?”
“Senior Sword King? What brings you here? Please, come in.”
I opened the door, and Namgung Dowi entered with his usual calm expression. He didn’t sit down—perhaps he didn’t intend to stay long.
“It’s nothing major. Jong and I will be moving separately starting tomorrow, so I came to let you know.”
“Eh? All of a sudden?”
“Apologies for the short notice. I took too long thinking it over.”
“Well, it’s not like it’s today, so I suppose it’s fine... but did something happen?”
“It’s already happening. We’re heading to the Murim Alliance. There’s something I need to discuss with the Lord.”
“Ah.”
Originally, the plan was for Namgung Dowi and Namgung Jong to accompany me until I returned to the Tang Clan,
training with me every day.
But even though we still had days of travel left—and thus more opportunities to spar—they were choosing to go to the Murim Alliance now, to discuss countermeasures.
Considering Namgung Dowi was one of the top three martial arts fanatics I knew, this choice hit differently.
Many orthodox factions had fallen into corruption, like the Hwangbo Clan, but perhaps the reason the orthodoxy still remained... was because of people like Namgung Dowi.
“I also enjoyed sparring with you, sir, so I’ll miss it. But of course, please go ahead. I hope we get another chance someday.”
“Miss it, do you? Then why not schedule our next match right now?”
...Forget what I just said.
Before I could finish my sentence, his eyes gleamed as he pressed in close. A clearly middle-aged man, both in years and appearance, closing the distance like that—was honestly overwhelming.
I subtly scooted back, gave a half-hearted response, and only after a long roundabout exchange did he finally leave.
As I let out a deep sigh and closed the door, Seo Mun-Hwarin looked strangely delighted. She patted the spot beside her with a grin.
“Now, sit here. Starting tomorrow—no, the day after tomorrow—we’ll have more time to study the Thunder Heaven Divine Art, but that doesn’t mean we can slack off today.”
“Then about the sword form we were just discussing...”
“Ah, on that—This One’s stance is clear. Even if it’s the opening form, Thunder Heaven Divine Art must never compromise its power.”
“Coming from someone who focused so much on Willpower Blades, that’s rich... But if you’re that stubborn, I have a great idea.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“Let’s just have a light sparring match.”
Seo Mun-Hwarin blinked.
She glanced at the firmly shut door, then back at me.
“Wait... are you sick or something?”
“Please don’t make it sound like I’m contagious. I don’t mean a serious duel—I’ll swing the sword as I envision it, and you do the same. Let’s see whose method is more effective.”
“Isn’t that way too favorable to you?”
“Of course I won’t use my full strength. This is just to test the completeness of our respective forms, so I’ll match your sword skill.”
“Even so, it’s still a bit...”
She kept hesitating, so I looked at her for a moment, then asked,
“Hm. Are you afraid you’ll lose to me?”
“This One must restore Murim’s honor today!”
Puffing with indignation, Seo Mun-Hwarin rolled up her sleeves.
Not that it meant much—we were using wooden swords anyway.
The sparring match ended in my victory.
***
After parting ways with Namgung Dowi, even after returning to the Tang Clan, Seo Mun-Hwarin and I often disagreed over the interpretation of Thunder Heaven Divine Art.
Each time, we settled it with a sparring match. Sometimes I won, sometimes she did. And so, Thunder Heaven Divine Art became a ruthless martial art shaped only by the victor’s opinions.
Eventually, the time came for me to approach Tang Jincheon.
“I’ll be traveling around the Central Plains for a while—to subjugate the Green Forest.”
“That suddenly? And do you even know where their strongholds are? It’s not that others are weaker than the Green Forest—it’s because our agreement with the Black Lotus Sect was to share intel and strike whichever group was nearby.”
“I have a few guesses. If I come up empty-handed, I’ll return immediately, so don’t worry.”
“Hmm...”
Tang Jincheon sighed deeply, then asked in a cautious voice.
“Do you, too, hold a grudge against the Green Forest like the Black Lotus Sect Master?”
“Well... I did nearly die once as a kid when they stole the first silver coin I ever held.”
“I see... So that’s—”
“But I killed them all in return, so it’s fine. Not exactly a grudge.”
“......?”
I puffed out my chest proudly at Tang Jincheon’s bewildered look.
“Besides, the Green Forest makes for excellent real-combat opponents. And it just so happens that both I and several people around me could use some real-world experience.”
At this point, Tang Jincheon didn’t even react like I was a lunatic anymore. He just looked slightly tired as he nodded.
“Do as you wish, son-in-law. Just remember to check in regularly.”
“You won’t be disappointed, Father-in-law.”
He patted my shoulder with a completely untrusting expression.
...I honestly have no idea how I ended up being treated like this.