Ep527 - I Became a Drunkard in a Martial Arts Novel.

With a single sword in hand, he had cut down numerous adversaries. Thus, he could gauge with a single strike, Determining the precise distance to his opponent. 'But I can't measure it.' This was the source of Baek Woojin's despair. He couldn't fathom the distance between him and his opponent at all. It felt as though they existed in entirely different dimensions, a daunting chasm. It almost seemed to declare, 'Your sword will never reach here.' 'Is it because of divine power?' Thankfully, he did not waver. His heart remained heavy, yet he wasn't pushed to the point of abandoning the idea of finding a solution. In truth, it was more accurate to say he couldn't afford to give up. 'I would rather die than abandon the futures of my wife and child.' He had learned from them. The love shared between a man and woman bound by marriage. The joy of closing his eyes at night and waking to see them each morning. The corner of his heart, which had remained empty no matter how much he tried to fill it, Was naturally fulfilled the more he came to know them, one by one. Such continuous fulfillment drove him to look slightly further ahead. 'My children.' He didn't know what they looked like, or the proper way to hold them. He couldn't have known. He had never been loved by his own parents. Consequently, many sleepless nights were spent wandering aimlessly around the estate. And finally, he found his answer. 'I only need to love them in my own way.' Today would be that day. Though clumsy, when his child was born, they could grow up without worries. Living in pursuit of their own dreams without interference from anyone else. "Watch closely." He corrected his posture, tightening his grip on the sword. "This is your father's love!" With words that made his face flush, he thrust his sword forward. Boom—! A singular crash echoed through the temple. Meanwhile, the brush continued furiously inscribing the fate of the world onto paper. But it differed from before. "I felt it..." A definite sensation traveled to his fingertips. He perceived, however faintly, where the brush, the divine power, lingered. That was sufficient. Wasn't it only the second attempt after all? He was faced with an indescribably distant distance, so far that he couldn't say he would reach it within a lifetime of training. 'Yet, I can do it.' Strangely, this insurmountable task didn't seem daunting to Baek Woojin now. A surge of confidence, making him feel as if he could attain it if he desired. This feeling that knew no boundaries urged him forward. "Ah..." Into a new realm of insight where the outcome was unfathomable. Baek Woojin's consciousness was drawn in. * * * Initially, it was just to fill the monotonous hours with a bit more meaning. However, with each letter she penned, she wrote with fervor. As if it were her calling. The brush she held before her belly was fully rounded was only set down once she was full term. "It's done...!" It was finally complete. The tale of the hero who saved this world. 'The Chronicles of the Baek Clan Hero.' Once finished, the manuscript was copied by many hands and multiplied into hundreds and thousands of volumes. Then, through the golden merchant network, it spread to bookstores across the central plains. The intense life of one man was contained within this book, priced at a mere one nyang. Someone questioned the price, which seemed too low to even cover the cost of paper. "Why sell it so cheaply?" The bookstore owner replied, "The author hopes everyone in the central plains reads this book at least once." The book sold like hotcakes. Naturally. The low price aside, the name also played its part. "The hero of the Baek family…!" "Right, it's the story of Baek Woojin, the great hero!" Baek Woojin was the sole, unparalleled hero from the Baek family during his time. Everyone knew he saved the world, but not how he did it. The tales spun by storytellers were mere drops in the ocean of his actual experiences. Thus, everyone was inquisitive. Through what trials Baek Woojin saved the world. Where his extraordinary life began. In the end, her plan succeeded flawlessly. "Heavens, did he endure so much hardship...!" "What? Great hero Baek Woojin was a failing student in his early academic days?" "Oh my, such wonderful words..." Each person was drawn into the story she wrote for different reasons. Some were captivated by Baek Woojin's hidden struggles that were scarcely known to the world. Others were intrigued by his humble, if not pitiful, childhood. Many women found themselves moved by the touching dialogues he would one day exchange with his future wife. Not just his name, but the entire epic spread like wildfire. Amidst the numerous praises echoing for Baek Woojin, "Aaaaah!" Waaah—! Baek Woojin's child took its first breath. "Congratulations, ma'am! It's a boy!" "Oh..., my baby." After the laborious battle of childbirth, Dang Seyeong gazed at the baby who resembled her husband so closely and shed tears. And at the same time, she began to worry about Baek Woojin. "Sister..., has there been any news of him?" "No, sister..." "We haven't heard anything from inside." "It's almost like there's a barrier of sorts..." When the word 'barrier' came from Do Kyung's lips, all eyes turned to one man. Jang Sam. The head of Hwangsan Sect and an esteemed guest who had enjoyed all hospitality in the Baek family residence since it was built, perhaps excessively so. "Why, why is everyone looking at me?" "It's unlikely that my husband cast a barrier himself, right?" "Of course, Jang Sohyeop must have helped him, don't you think?" Under the looming pressure from all sides, Jang Sam confessed the truth. "Ye-yes, that's right. Jo Jang asked me fervently to place a barrier in the study..." "What kind of barrier?" Faced with Jegal Yeonji's sharp inquiry, he quickly responded. "Nothing special! He just asked to make it impossible to open the study from the outside..." "So, you're saying that we out here cannot open the study door no matter what?" "Ugh..., yes. Unless the talisman is removed from the inside, it's impossible to open." "..." "..." At that moment, everyone sensed something amiss. No matter how significant the realization, to completely block all access from outside to inside? As the atmosphere in the house turned somber on the very day the child was born, Jang Sam quietly bowed his head. * * * The god watched. As the brush halted two strikes of the sword, and Baek Woojin closed his eyes, entering a realm of realization. Only then did the god understand. What he had bestowed upon the protagonist. 'Possibility...!' An oddly ambiguous term, to say the least. It seemed hopeful, as if it promised one could achieve anything, but also appeared despairing, as if one might collapse without achieving anything at all. That's the nature of possibility, inherently. It possesses the potential to expand infinitely yet remains stagnant without a particular direction. Yet, gripping this ambiguous term, the man before his eyes caused countless flowers to bloom. He ascended to the pinnacle as a human, opening paths solely with possibility. Realizing this, sweat began to bead in the god's palm. It was because of a single ominous thought that crossed his mind. 'What if possibility doesn't end within the realm of humanity...?' At that moment, Baek Woojin, who was meditating within the realm of insight, opened his eyes. And before words or actions, he swung his sword. Boom—! A massive resonance. The god felt an indescribable sense of unease from the resonance approaching him. He saw it. A small blemish on the paper, uniformly inscribed with consistent size, format, and handwriting. This was where Baek Woojin's third strike had landed, disrupting the path of the brush. That meant the blow was momentarily powerful enough to shake the brush's stroke. "Madman...!" A chill ran down his spine. The dull blade he had given to save the world had come full circle, now pointed at him. Not only had it sharpened during its journey across two revolutions of the world, but it was now gleaming menacingly. Then came the fourth strike upon the brush. Boom—! An even deeper resonance. At that moment, the god saw it. The first 'spelling error' etched into the scroll of the world's fate written by the brush. The precision, always kept at a perfect ten, dipped into the nineties. An unparalleled humiliation. Yet, the god couldn't fully register this feeling. Because Baek Woojin still had six more chances remaining. "Now just five more times...!" With another clash, this time the brush skipped one of the characters it was supposed to inscribe, marking the first 'omission.' The sixth strike erased a word, the seventh a complete sentence, and the eighth obliterated an entire paragraph. And then, the moment the much-anticipated ninth strike was wielded. Creak...! The brush, which had resonated differently than before, came to an abrupt halt. Having relentlessly struck with his sword, Baek Woojin finally grinned widely with just one chance remaining. "It's done now." For he had completed it. "The Final Stroke." The ultimate move to end the tale of a no-good, third-rate writer. --- Author's Note I will see you in the next chapter. Thank you as always for reading. Have a restful night. (_ _)