Genius Martial Arts Trainer

End and Beginning

The lantern festival celebrating Hyun-gwang’s enlightenment continued for some time. During this period, Yeon Ga-hee visited Shaolin every day.

“Please do not feel resentful that the Sangdanju and the children could not visit,” Yeon Ga-hee said, facing the Zabul Tower.

Mu-jin, replying on behalf of Hyun-gwang, responded, “They must be busy with the affairs of the Sangdanju and the alliance. We are grateful that you took the time to visit. And grandfather is not one to be upset about such matters, is he?”

Yeon Ga-hee chuckled, “Hohoho, that’s true.”

After a brief conversation with Mu-jin, Yeon Ga-hee performed 108 prostrations towards the Zabul Tower as she did every day and then left.

A few days later, a new guest visited the Zabul Tower.

“Greetings to Yunheo Zhenren.”

“It’s been a while.”

‘The wretched one has gone far,’ thought Yunheo Zhenren, gazing at the Zabul Tower that housed the last vestiges of Hyun-gwang.

He was the only non-disciple who was a friend, starting as a rival but becoming the only one who understood him.

Now, he had gone to a place where they could no longer meet.

‘Would Hyun-gwang truly achieve transcendence…’

Yunheo Zhenren understood that Hyun-gwang’s enlightenment did not merely mean death.

Even in the afterlife, they would not meet again.

Realizing the reason why Hyun-gwang stayed forcibly in the mortal world, Yunheo Zhenren glanced aside.

‘He must have trusted this young monk, allowing him to leave.’

Realizing that the young monk had eased Hyun-gwang’s concerns and lingering attachments, Yunheo Zhenren thought, ‘It feels like our era is ending.’

Naturally, Yunheo Zhenren’s mind turned to the Wudang Sect’s genius, Cheongsu.

‘I don’t know if I’ll see you again, but I will leave this world prepared, like you.’

Remembering Hyun-gwang’s will as he looked at the Zabul Tower for the last time, Yunheo Zhenren bade his farewell to his friend and left Shaolin.

* * *

Although Shaolin did not announce Hyun-gwang’s enlightenment widely, the news spread across the Central Plains.

For those unfamiliar with the inner workings of the martial world, it might have been insignificant, but not for a few individuals.

In the Taesang Gaju Hall, deep in the Sichuan Tang Clan.

“Tsk, tsk, the young one has left early,” said Tang-jak, an elderly man over eighty known as the Dark King, in a harsh tone, though his feelings were complex.

About three years ago, Tang-jak’s body had been damaged in a duel with the Head of Unhyangwon, making him incapable of living as a martial artist.

Only the clan leader and the medicine hall head of the Sichuan Tang Clan knew this secret.

“How futile, how futile.”

Thus, Tang-jak felt a sense of shared fate upon hearing the news.

The warriors of his generation, who once found the vast Central Plains too small, were leaving one by one.

And he felt his own departure wasn’t far off.

Elsewhere, within the Shinchun, an elderly man known as In-ju stroked his white beard and asked his subordinate, “Hyun-gwang has enlightened?”

“Yes, he has.”

“Hahaha, the heavens are aiding us.”

Recently, Shaolin, Wudang, and other orthodox factions had begun to hinder them, causing headaches.

And now, the man who lived as a cripple for most of his life and suddenly revived a few years ago, Hyun-gwang, had disappeared from this world.

“It was strange enough that a man in such a state could live normally.”

Shaolin called it “enlightenment,” but In-ju believed such notions were nonsense. He thought Hyun-gwang had simply died.

‘The greatest under the heavens has left so quietly. It will make future plans much easier.’

When he first heard of Hyun-gwang’s revival, In-ju considered Hyun-gwang as dangerous as the “Three Swords of the World.”

But two and a half years ago, there was an incident where Namgung Muguk abruptly stopped a duel with Yunheo Zhenren to visit Shaolin.

Though the outcome of the duel remained a secret, it wasn’t hard to infer from Namgung Muguk’s subsequent reclusive training.

Now, the duel’s participant and Namgung Muguk, who had entered closed training.

“…What did you say?”

“…Hyun-gwang Dasa has enlightened, Taesang Gaju.”

Namgung Muguk, who had been dedicating himself to the sword for a rematch with Hyun-gwang, heard the news late.

The moment he heard the shocking news, the back of Namgung Muguk’s hand holding the sword turned white.

His grip was so tight that the blood wasn’t circulating.

‘After the Heavenly Demon, Hyun-gwang too.’

Someone once said that it’s not the strong who survive but the survivors who are strong.

Now that Hyun-gwang was gone, maybe he was the strongest under the heavens.

But Namgung Muguk did not seek such a victory.

To Namgung Muguk, martial arts were about honing the soul, building it up throughout life.

A duel was a contest of what one had built.

It wasn’t about winning in such a way.

But now, Hyun-gwang was no longer in this world.

So how would he measure his soul against Hyun-gwang’s?

‘It’s no different from the Heavenly Demon.’

Namgung Muguk easily found the answer.

When his sword reached the last “One Fist” that Hyun-gwang had shown, he would prove himself to the world again. Just as he had done twenty years ago.

Thus, Hyun-gwang’s enlightenment marked the end of an era for the veteran warriors.

And the old warriors accepted this fact in their ways.

Some thought of the children who would live the next generation.

Some lamented the end of their era.

Some dreamed of controlling the future.

Some sought to prove that their era had not ended yet.

* * *

The lantern festival lasted for a month.

Meanwhile, it wasn’t just external guests visiting the Zabul Tower.

In fact, Shaolin disciples visited the Zabul Tower more frequently than outsiders.

Abbot Hyun Cheon, along with the elderly monks of Shaolin who had memories of Hyun-gwang, visited the Zabul Tower once a day to pay respects.

Among the first-class disciples, some had deep connections with Hyun-gwang.

“Don’t you pay respects?” Mu-jin asked Hye-gwan, who smiled with a twisted expression.

It wasn’t the usual sardonic smile but one mixed with various emotions.

“How could I offer respects to Hyun-gwang Sabek with my blood-stained hands?”

Hye-gwan simply placed a bottle of wine before the Zabul Tower.

Others continued to visit Hyun-gwang, and the modest but lengthy lantern festival concluded after about a month.

As the Shaolin disciples cleared the lanterns that had illuminated the temple for a month, they sorted their emotions about Hyun-gwang.

And just as they finished clearing the lanterns, Shaolin’s gates became noisy.

Although puzzled, Mu-jin continued to guard Hyun-gwang’s residence, but the noise gradually moved towards his location.

Soon, the source of the commotion reached Hyun-gwang’s residence.

“…Crazy.”

Seeing the enormous golden statue resembling Hyun-gwang’s face, Mu-jin involuntarily uttered a profanity.

It wasn’t hard to guess whose handiwork the statue was.

‘So that’s why Sangdanju met the Abbot that day.’

On the first day of the lantern festival, while Yeon Ga-hee was performing 108 prostrations, Sangdanju Ryu Ji-gwang had left to meet the Abbot.

The culprit was undoubtedly the Sangdanju.

“How did he persuade him?”

Though Abbot Hyun Cheon had recently shown a bit of worldly interest, he wasn’t one to accept such a golden statue.

One could only wonder how Sangdanju managed to persuade him.

However, it was just a surprising display of wealth.

‘At least, I won’t forget grandfather’s face.’

Mu-jin didn’t entirely dislike the statue resembling Hyun-gwang.

* * *

The day after the enormous golden statue appeared alongside the Zabul Tower in Hyun-gwang’s residence.

As Mu-jin was cleaning up the residence, new visitors arrived at Shaolin.

However, Mu-jin did not need to greet them.

The lantern festival had already ended, and they weren’t particularly connected to Hyun-gwang.

‘They must be in a difficult situation.’

Mu-jin thought about the visitors today. They were Taoists from the Zhongnan Sect.

Given the recent surge in injuries, Mu-jin suspected they were here to request reinforcements from Shaolin.

Before long, a second-class disciple arrived from the Abbot’s room.

“Mu-jin, the guests wish to see you.”

Naturally, Mu-jin wondered.

‘Are they specifically requesting me as reinforcements? Why me?’

Though he was called the ‘greatest genius under the heavens,’ the focus was on ‘genius,’ not ‘greatest.’

While Mu-jin had surpassed the level of a genius, the world still saw him as a promising junior.

In the competition between the Nine Great Sects, what difference would one promising junior make?

‘It doesn’t harm me.’

Mu-jin was already considering leaving Sha

olin.

About four months remained until the future Heavenly Demon would meet the Blood Successor.

And if Zhongnan invited him, there was another advantage.

‘I was contemplating sneaking out, but this provides a good excuse.’

Since Mu-jin and the Muja Trio returned to Shaolin, they had been under surveillance.

It was to prevent another midnight escape.

But with this legitimate reason, there was no need for another escape.

‘Since it’s come to this, I might as well take those guys.’

Mu-jin decided to take the Muja Trio along, as it was a legitimate external mission.

Especially, he had to take Mu-gyeong to maintain the narrative of the novel.

So, Mu-jin willingly headed to the Abbot’s room with the second-class disciple.

Near the Abbot’s room, a few Taoists from the Zhongnan Sect were waiting in their martial robes.

They watched Mu-jin enter the Abbot’s room with various expressions, but Mu-jin didn’t pay attention.

Inside, Abbot Hyun Cheon and the Taoist elder Baekam Zhenren were waiting.

“Welcome. This is Baekam Zhenren, the external elder of the Zhongnan Sect.”

“Greetings to Baekam Zhenren.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet the greatest genius under the heavens.”

After a brief exchange of greetings, Mu-jin stared blankly at Abbot Hyun Cheon and Baekam Zhenren.

Clearing his throat, Baekam Zhenren cautiously spoke, “Have you heard of the Zhongnan Sword Technique?”

It was a ridiculous question. Mu-jin was the first to mention the Zhongnan Sword Technique.

‘Ah, I didn’t reveal I said it.’

It seemed that Ryu Seol-hwa and the Baek siblings had handled matters properly.

“I’ve heard of it, but wasn’t that matter settled in advance?”

“…We’ve dealt with the one at Mandangmun, but it seems it hasn’t been fully resolved.”

Baekam Zhenren explained their situation in detail, but it was quite simple.

Since a few months ago, many Zhongnan Sect disciples who ventured out had been getting injured.

Those who injured the Zhongnan disciples were mostly from minor sects or not from Shaanxi Province.

The Zhongnan Sect suspected that Hwasan had brought in external forces for a power struggle in Shaanxi, but they had no concrete evidence.

Moreover, while there were many injuries, there were no fatalities, making it difficult for the Zhongnan Sect to launch a full-scale retaliation.

As a result, the increasing injuries led to a disadvantage in the power struggle.

But the biggest problem was the cause of these injuries.

“It seems Hwasan has widely spread the form and characteristics of our Zhongnan swordsmanship.”

Disciples often lost to opponents of similar skill or even slightly inferior ones.

While the Zhongnan Sect knew Hwasan’s swordsmanship well, the opponents were not Hwasan disciples.

Their enemies knew their techniques well while they did not know their enemies’ techniques, leaving them at a disadvantage unless their skill levels were significantly higher.

“So, are you asking Shaolin to send warriors, including myself, just as they brought in external forces?”

Mu-jin asked, already considering the solution, but Baekam Zhenren shook his head.

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