793 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

Now, the academic schedule left was so sparse that it could be counted on one's fingers. Having wasted time in vain and returned, Qing was so restless that she even gave up rest time after duty and devoted herself diligently to after-school lessons. However, when she saw Jia-Yeo clumsily swinging her sword in one corner of the after-school training hall, Qing couldn't help but furrow her brows into a 八 character. She thought to herself, "Is she trying to protest in some visible way because her father, who came back from afar, doesn't play with her and only works? It would be better if it were a protest; rather, it's closer to begging than protesting, as it's more about ‘Hey, I'm here,’ trying to catch attention." The little one should speak if she has complaints, but she's still hesitating. Fearing she might be considered bothersome, she couldn't speak, shrinking back while trying to catch Qing's attention from one side. Still, if there's any consolation, though her father may be indifferent, she has multiple mothers. “Hey, daughter. What's that tiny thing doing swinging a sword already? That's way too fierce for a girl. A girl should be elegant, beautiful, and feminine.” “Yes……” “So, throw darts elegantly, like a lady.” “……?” When Tang Nanah swiftly moved her arms, six sharp, small knives were wedged between her fingers, three in each hand. “Oh.” As Jia-Yeo clapped her hands in admiration, Tang Nanah's pride soared. Nanah is surprisingly good with kids, despite her typical villainous, commanding demeanor. Is she a sweet villain? Regardless, my opinion of her has improved somewhat. Sensing this, Tang Nanah secretly flashed a wicked smile that Jia-Yeo didn't notice. "Ever heard of shooting the general to capture an army? It doesn't help to catch a general if you aren't going for valuable steeds - to catch the parents, sometimes you must capture the child first." Though her kindness was hypocritically malevolent, Jia-Yeo's eyes still sparkled with excitement. “Hey, Bingdak. Go stand over there. Training should be like a real battle. Your skills won't improve just by hitting static targets, right? Be my daughter's target.” “No.” Gyunyeong seemed to feel a sense of crisis since Nanah had been spending much time with Jia-Yeo. At night, he stopped his exercises and simply existed by Jia-Yeo's side. He merely existed. Lingering vaguely nearby. Well, that’s expected, as Gyunyeong lacks any communication skills, unable to initiate friendly conversation... In any case, thanks to this, Qing could concentrate on her teaching duties with peace of mind. Thus, time flowed at the Righteous Orthodox Martial Academy. The academic schedule concluded! It was the day for the closing ceremony, to commemorate the end. Among the disciples were individuals who were considered quite skilled by martial world standards, and although they hailed from local martial clans, these clans were well-regarded within their regions. Yet, most were wandering martial artists, aimlessly drifting without notable achievements to speak of. Hence, they all wore expressions brimming with excitement, as this achievement would mark a significant milestone in their lives. They stood there, greatly moved, yet maintaining a composed demeanor, awaiting the closing ceremony— "The director will give a speech." In an instant, the disciples’ expressions showed anxiety. Momentarily forgetting the large problem they'd overlooked until now, they suddenly felt immense fear. "Four months ago, when I first saw the disciples, your eyes glinted with thirst for knowledge, and now, I see noble figures before me, ones that make me question if these are truly the same disciples. Seeing you reminds me of when I first set my sights on the martial world, when a dream led me forth, and each tavern I visited had lurking thugs that compelled me to draw my sword. Looking back, I was an inexperienced newcomer, utterly naive, yet proud. But within just seventeen days, I faced defeat by a notorious demon swordsman, the Wuchul Sword, and thought of giving up my dream. I resolved to drown myself in drink by purchasing six barrels of strong blazing wine, but then met Master Liu Shan, whose simple inquiry if I was eating well struck me deeply. Unable to admit otherwise, I resolved to eat..." This tale of an aspiring newcomer who, having faced and lost to a demon swordsman, later exacts revenge by shattering that very demon’s iron sword, spreading his own legend as the One Sword Swordsman. It was a story none present were unfamiliar with; after all, it was the respected elder’s moniker, one that defined the academy head’s own legacy. “...ahem, and so, before you venture, I urge you three key things. First…” The disciples paled. Was his previous discourse not the core message, and now he introduced three key points? “First, distinguish between courage and recklessness… remain alive in all endeavors... persisting… The second crucial point is an unyielding heart…” Qing felt somewhat relieved. Having passed on the honor of the address to Chunbong, she was spared the agony of following the lengthy speech with a dedicated tribute. Just imagining it was dreadful. As much time passed, The joyous pride in the disciples began to slightly wither, leaving their hearts worn as they grew dim, like those deprived of sleep. Only then could the closing ceremony resume. Lastly, a parting tribute. “Do you recall when you first entered? Merely ordinary folk, nobodies defined only by their hometowns, requiring no noble titles to be disclosed.” But now, how have you become? Sima ChungBong smiled gracefully. "Naturally, you all remain ordinary folk. However, the world belongs to ordinary people, while geniuses simply lead from on high. It is a blessing that you need not compare yourself with them. Isn't it wonderful to see the stars shining in the vast sky and illuminating the path we must take? So, this Sima Rang(司馬郞) will guide you silently like the North Star—" "Who let her give the speech!" "Get her down! She's embarrassing us!" "Everyone! What is a genius! It's ugh, ugh!" A minor commotion erupted when martial artists from the Murim Alliance rushed in to pull the speaker away during her speech. Afterward, it proceeded into a congratulatory banquet. "enN1WnIzcFhHMVJuR0JvdkNPc013d0h5blBJOGtsbEQwK09WUUNLay81VUJib1FLaFFKaWNrNnd2VXlTS0JTTQ" "I expected you might deliver the speech, Instructor." "Well, I've been away too long. It would be embarrassing for me to speak out front like that," Yang-Chil, who Qing first encountered during the admissions test where he quickly rose to the ranks of First Tier, gave a gentle smile. “Though I studied swordsmanship at JoGyeong's renowned GoHyeon Sword Sect for three years, I only received guidance from the master, SeoDae Sword KangYu, a handful of times. That's generally the reality at most Sects.” Aspiring to train under a famed master often means only encountering their disciples. Sometimes, it's even the disciples’ disciples who end up teaching. “In comparison, you personally taught us, Instructor. Furthermore, it allows us to say we've been taught by the Heavenly Sword Flower, learned sword techniques created by the Heavenly Sword Flower herself. Isn’t that something we’re able to boast about?” “So, you get to use my name?” “But isn't our Instructor considered a candidate for the next grand martial arts master? As your fame rises, we inherently benefit, so we feel only profound gratitude. Isn’t that right!?” "Exactly!" "Indeed!" "So, I offer my thanks." Yang-Chil respectfully offers a fist salute. At that moment, the lively atmosphere of the banquet in the courtyard quieted, and all the disciples collectively turned, bowing with hands extended towards Qing. Qing opened her mouth in surprise. Then again, and again. Ah, how embarrassing. Given how long she'd been away. “Wait. Wandalu disciple. Step down. Don’t climb onto the chair. Oh Instructor, that’s not happening.” Qing subtly stopped a student from climbing onto the table. I'm not some dead poet, how common was that feeling, what is this about? In any case, dismissal is tomorrow morning. Since descending the mountain takes half a day, today is the farewell ceremony, but dismissal comes tomorrow. Therefore, it's a day where even drinking and collapsing won't matter, as if to relieve the frustration built up from the Righteous Orthodox Martial Academy’s bare-bones diet, casks of wine were piled in a corner like a mountain. “One drink for the Instructor.” “What is all this?” The disciples lined up to pour Qing a drink in turn, which might have seemed like a conspiracy if Qing didn’t have an exceptional tolerance and didn’t get drunk. "Instructor. I’ll be relying on you in the future." “Oh, Sword Lady. The Instructor period is over now. You can speak comfortably. You’re not returning to the Sword Hall, considering you’re supposed to lead a unit?" “Having received your teachings, you’ll forever be my Instructor. In this short time, I learned a lot, probably because at the Sword Hall, the disciples pursue the same techniques and know each other too well, affecting practice effectiveness. To encounter the myriad swords of the wider world, I can’t return just yet.” “Oh, training.” Gum Ok-Gun’s eyes gleamed. “On that note, I heard you’re organizing a sociable group for rising martial saints that will lead the future of the martial world, the Half-Sword Dual Sword Society. May I, despite my shortcomings, join it?” “What? Who said that?” "Ah, was it a secret?" Qing was taken aback. A social club for the up-and-coming saints of martial arts? Is it some secret gathering like stonemasons meet? What even is this? Nevertheless, even if it wasn't Qing's intention, public perception deemed it so. Hence, the members couldn't just be average folks. Regardless, having achieved their goal, Gum Ok-Gun beamed brightly. Thanks to it, Qing enjoyed a visual feast. Indeed, beauty lies in simplicity and elegance—Sword Lady was truly radiant… Yeom-Chang and Jang Bi-Hu from Eumchang were also present, toasting Qing. Despite the origins as enemies where Eum-Chang intended to poison and kill using Sangongdok, and Jang Bi-Hu felt wronged, they appeared together as close as ever now. Their bond, even before reaching the Imperial Palace, had started as a mere verbal enemy role from Chang, with Bi-Hu playing along, and apparently, two and a half months was enough to create a strong friendship. Qing sipped an unending flow of alcohol while scanning the lively room. Indeed, it wasn't the end; most of these individuals were to be assigned as a martial force within the Murim Alliance. They were set to return to the Righteous Orthodox Martial Academy next year, this time training sweatily alongside the new batch of juniors or so they planned. “Who on earth requested help!?” “Wow, it’s on fire!” “Sword Lady again is on fire!” With a whoosh, a great blaze erupted on one side. Before it, the Azure Dragon Dancer Chae Seong-Ha fidgeted nervously, flanked by fierce-eyed women, Then, Chang Yo-Hong, seemingly searching for something to wield amidst the chaos, aimed to beat someone, before meeting Qing’s eyes. Qing tilted her head in curiosity. Was she perhaps looking for me? Upon meeting Qing's gaze, Chang Yo-Hong, contrary to her rough demeanor, shyly lowered her head. Somehow, the threatening blaze subdued. “Fine. Let’s just change this, then? If you don’t want to, forget it.” “Lady? But the rules of the sect—” “Hey, take this thing and leave. Are you just going to watch? Isn’t this a prank?” The two women flanking Chae Seong-Ha exchanged glances, seemingly reaching an unspoken agreement, before marching off with a linked-arm formation, dragging someone away like constables apprehending a culprit. "Uh, Instructor? Aren't you going to have a drink?" "Oh, I'll drink it, sure... But what’s going on?" "Oh, that?" Chang Yo-Hong started explaining matters related to her sect. The legendary martial art of singular transmission, Sabangmu. It was passed down through the four martial arts of the Vermilion Bird, Azure Dragon, Black Tortoise, and White Tiger, with the rule that the martial art must be passed on to the victor in a duel. And when one gathers all the arts of the Four Symbols? The ultimate martial art, called the Emperor Dragon Dance, is said to be born. However, it's not just the martial art the victor receives but also the person, as they must serve as the master of the unified Sabang Sect. "But forget it. It's a martial art that seems to catch fire with the slightest trigger, but I can’t just give it away for free, considering I endured the old tailors to receive it." Chang Yo-Hong grinned. "So, when I suggested swapping and learning from each other ignoring the rules, that didn’t sit well." "Ah." "You know, Instructor, when I can't control the fire, each time I get hit, seeing you makes me feel at peace. It's strange, but my temper flares up and then just simmers down when I see you." "Understandable." Qing nodded, appreciating the calming strength of the Master’s intense discipline. Master, I miss you... "So, I'd like something to remind me of you until I can control it better. Because, you know, being in the Murim Alliance for three years, it’d be problematic if something catches fire." "Oh. If it's that, then it can’t be helped." Qing withdrew a combative hairpin and offered it. A reminder of being hit by nuclear power, something enduring. "Wow, it’s super heavy. Feels like a corkscrew or something. Well then, see you later." Chang Yo-Hong, scratching the back of her head awkwardly, walked away humming a tune, somehow gleeful. Qing tilted her head, pondering for a moment. "Instructor, I’d like to offer you a drink." "Ah, sounds good." The perpetually filled cup continued in its cycle. As the night deepened. The academic schedule of the Righteous Orthodox Martial Academy reached its end.