Chapter 212
It was incomprehensible.
Song Hyeon was a martial artist. Moreover, he was a martial artist who had walked the righteous path for quite some time. No matter how loftily a martial artist cultivates, they cannot completely exclude physical pain.
Especially Wudang, a sect that walks only the righteous path. If cultivation involves pain, Wudang teaches to naturally accept that pain itself rather than trying to remove it.
From Taiji Fist to Small Pure techniques, and until he learned the Great Pure Sword Method, he had endured countless beatings and experienced numerous hardships.
Sometimes he overcame injuries so severe they threatened his life, which is why he holds his current position.
But…
Why does the pain he feels in his head now hurt so terribly, as if it's not of this world?
"Arrrgghhhhh…"
Song Hyeon clutched his head and wailed pitifully.
Being struck on the head with a sword sheath wasn't his first experience. Whether wooden swords or real blades, during training, if there was something wrong, there were more than one or two people who would first strike the head.
But this sword sheath was different. This one truly hurt to the bone.
Even if someone seriously tried to crack his skull, it wouldn't hurt this much. What on earth did they do to that sword to inflict such pain on a person?
However, Wei Yan-ho had no intention of solving that mystery, approaching Song Hyeon with a tilted posture, shaking his head.
"Not convinced?"
No, I am! I am convinced, you bastard!
He was sufficiently convinced. But those words of being convinced wouldn't come out of his mouth. He was too busy screaming to speak.
"Then you'll have to get beaten until you're convinced!"
I am convinced, man! I'm convinced!
But unfortunately, Wei Yan-ho couldn't read minds, and Song Hyeon didn't know how to transmit his thoughts to others. He'd need to master at least Six Harmonies Complete Voice to transmit sound without opening his mouth, but if that were possible, why would Song Hyeon be a third-generation disciple?
Feeling Wei Yan-ho's foot poking at his back, Song Hyeon trembled.
"Get up."
"Yes!"
Though he didn't know where such strength came from, Song Hyeon bolted upright.
"Not convinced?"
"…No. I'm convinced, I am."
"If you were going to be convinced so easily, why make a fuss about not being convinced?"
"I must have been crazy."
Crazy indeed.
Without being crazy, there's no way he would have come here.
Song Hyeon forcibly swallowed the tears that were about to flow as he wondered what state of mind had brought him to this place.
"What weren't you convinced about?"
But Wei Yan-ho's character was also lovely.
"Because you seemed too strong for someone your age."
He didn't know why he was speaking formally. But somehow he felt he had to speak formally.
"So now you're convinced?"
"Yes."
He had to be convinced.
He could clearly understand what it meant to get beaten until convinced if he wasn't convinced.
"Um…"
"Yeah?"
"Are you also participating in the martial competition, Young Master?"
"Probably?"
Song Hyeon's body trembled.
'This is a disaster.'
Song Hyeon knew his position accurately. Though he was currently in this sorry state, he was actually one of the top talents among the later-generation disciples of the Nine Sects.
It wasn't arrogance but reality. He couldn't claim to be weak when he wasn't that weak. Setting that aside, if Song Hyeon, being such a person, had to clutch his head and roll on the ground from a single strike, the results for others would be obvious.
'They'll all get their heads cracked and roll around.'
Along with that, the prestige of the Nine Sects would roll too.
Already, Song Hyeon could see in his mind's eye the disciples of the Nine Sects rolling on the ground, Wei Yan-ho picking his nose in front of them, and spectators too stunned to say anything.
His mind snapped to attention.
Realizing that if things went wrong, this competition could end with the Nine Sects suffering complete humiliation, Song Hyeon trembled.
'This isn't just my problem.'
If he had been just a little weaker, if there had been just a little more room to compete with Wei Yan-ho, he might have felt frustrated. But Song Hyeon's thoughts were proceeding in a completely different direction now.
No one tries to fight against an approaching typhoon. They try to endure until the typhoon passes somehow. Humans don't feel anger toward beings they're certain they cannot stop with their own power.
Song Hyeon felt exactly like that now.
To his eyes, Wei Yan-ho was more like a natural disaster than a martial artist. Moreover, the worst kind of natural disaster—one with a thoroughly nasty personality that would bounce back when poked.
'I need to come up with a plan!'
Thinking he needed to inform the elders who had led the Nine Sects about this fact and discuss countermeasures, Song Hyeon began to slowly back away.
"I wish you great success, Young Master!"
"Going somewhere?"
"…Yes."
When Wei Yan-ho smiled broadly, Song Hyeon also smiled back awkwardly.
"Why? Didn't you say you'd teach me how to find the middle way between softness and strength?"
"Hahaha…"
If only he could, he wanted to go back to yesterday and smack that flippant mouth of his.
'Why did you do that, yesterday's me?'
Even if he had tried to teach a monkey how to climb trees, it wouldn't have been this sad.
"I must have lost my mind. Then, Young Master…"
Watching Song Hyeon keep trying to back away, Wei Yan-ho smiled broadly.
"Hey."
"…Yes?"
"Come here, come here."
When Wei Yan-ho beckoned with his hand, Song Hyeon approached hesitantly with an anxious face. He had a strong feeling of unease, but he couldn't ignore Wei Yan-ho's words either.
With his level of skill, even if he tried to run away, a sword would fall on his head before he could take three steps. Then he'd be rolling on the ground again as if it were his home.
When Song Hyeon came right up beside him and fidgeted, Wei Yan-ho smiled broadly and said:
"Listen carefully."
"…Yes."
"Here, you saw nothing, and nothing happened. You've never seen me. Got it?"
"…"
"Why no answer?"
"Well… Young Master, I may be called a Taoist, but from a Taoist's standpoint, asking me to lie is…"
Wei Yan-ho nodded as if impressed.
"Hmm, indeed. Certainly a Taoist who follows the Way cannot speak falsehood. Indeed admirable. So is that all for your last words?"
"L-last words?"
When Song Hyeon asked in shock, Wei Yan-ho answered calmly.
"I'd prefer this fact not to spread, but you say you can't speak falsehood, so I have no choice but to eliminate that mouth."
"No, no! I absolutely won't speak of that fact first."
"Right. But as soon as you return to your lodgings, someone will ask, 'What happened?'"
Song Hyeon's body trembled.
That was certainly true.
"I highly respect that heart wanting to uphold the Way. I'll remember that there was a Taoist who didn't spare his life for the Way throughout his lifetime."
When Wei Yan-ho made a sorrowful expression as if feeling sorry, Song Hyeon's hair began to stand on end.
'It's probably a joke, right?'
But what if it's not a joke?
Then he'd die.
Considering that Wei Yan-ho had struck him with his sword without leaving a single wound, he didn't seem to be someone with a bad nature…
'Trust that and bet your life on it?'
This is no joke.
If Wei Yan-ho makes up his mind to be ruthless now, he dies.
'Come on, surely not.'
This is Mount Hua.
Killing a Wudang disciple at Mount Hua is no ordinary matter. If things go wrong, the entire Guangdong Wei Family could be branded as public enemies of the martial world. No matter how much the Guangdong Wei Family belongs to the Orthodox Alliance, if it becomes known that they killed Wudang's senior disciple in a secluded place, they could never remain safe.
Having thought that far, Song Hyeon made a determined expression.
"…Would there be problems if I killed you? Should I just press some life points and death points and lock you in a cave for about two weeks?"
I'd rather die.
Hey, you cruel human. Is that something a person does to another person?
If there had been a slight hint of playfulness in Wei Yan-ho's murder threat earlier, this time seemed serious. Thinking he'd rather die than suffer that fate, Song Hyeon gritted his teeth and shouted:
"I saw nothing!"
"Right?"
Wei Yan-ho smiled broadly.
"I wonder if our Taoist might make promises here and then say something different later."
"Th-that won't happen."
"Right. That shouldn't happen. If I sense the atmosphere is a bit strange, I'll come find you right away. To have a little chat, a little chat. Eh? In a secluded place."
Song Hyeon's eyes trembled.
He wouldn't kill him.
He wouldn't kill him.
No matter how crazy this bastard might be, he wouldn't murder a senior disciple of Wudang. But what about during the martial competition?
Even if he accidentally killed someone, who would have anything to say? And even if not during the martial competition, casually picking a fight and cutting off an arm would be nothing.
Even if Wei Yan-ho acted unreasonably, in a martial world that worships strength, they would cheer for Wei Yan-ho who defeated Wudang's senior disciple in one move, rather than understand Song Hyeon's injustice.
'Ah, so this is how it felt.'
He thought of his fellow disciples who had looked at him with inexplicable displeasure despite his kindness to them.
Though he treated his fellow disciples fairly, they probably never felt it was fair from the beginning. When problems arose, the sect's elders wouldn't look at his fellow disciples and him with the same eyes.
Song Hyeon was now feeling what his fellow disciples had felt then.
'It's unfair.'
Even if Wei Yan-ho did wrong, the martial world wouldn't view him badly. Because Wei Yan-ho is strong.
Though it was a newly realized fact, the martial world was lenient toward the strong and merciless toward the weak. Facing the reality of that savagery, Song Hyeon clenched his teeth.
As a martial artist! As a Taoist!
He cannot bow his head to injustice!
"Hehehe, that absolutely won't happen."
But first, he had to survive.
Injustice or whatever, a person has to live to do anything.
"Hmm."
When Wei Yan-ho looked Song Hyeon up and down as if he didn't believe him, Song Hyeon's survival instincts kicked into maximum gear.
"Really! And even if I told people exactly what happened here, would people believe it?"
"True enough."
Wei Yan-ho nodded as if he understood that point.
"If you want, I'll also give you all the information about the Nine Sects that I have."
"What would I use that for?"
"…"
Well, of course.
When an elephant faces ants, there's no need to worry about what kind of ants they are. In Wei Yan-ho's view, they'd all just be collectively small and weak beings.
"I trust you and I'm leaving. I don't need to explain what will happen if you carelessly open your mouth, right?"
"Of course!"
"Good."
As Wei Yan-ho trudged down the mountain, Song Hyeon collapsed on the spot.
'We're doomed.'
This competition was already doomed.
He seemed to hear the sound of sects' dreams of soaring into the world based on this opportunity being shattered into pieces.
"Where did such a monster appear from?"
It was a day when he resented the heavens.