Returning to the Dark Moon
Chapter 17. The Ten Precepts of Go
To reiterate, Ilgyeokmujeok—like Muhunshingae—was aware of the regression.
That meant there was a high probability she had a significant amount of information about me.
Ignoring me, she hopped onto the chair opposite me and spoke.
“You are the host, yet you do not offer your guest a cup of tea. This one knew you were a beast with the face of a man.”
I tilted my head at her words and asked,
“Really, is it that bad? I’m not the host either.”
It didn't take long for me to realize that her previous words were her idea of a joke.
The girl's voice was monotone.
Perhaps because she was an old monster who had lived for well over a hundred years, her sense of humor was so dry it was hard to tell if she was joking or not.
After a dry cough, I awkwardly looked around the room.
The Eight Great Guardians protect the Shaolin Abbot, so they are bound to be extremely rigid in their thinking.
The room contained only a few Buddhist scriptures, prayer beads, a bed, and a painting of Bodhidharma from when he was alive.
The wooden tea table we were sitting at was the only thing that looked remotely expensive.
In the ensuing silence, it was surprisingly she who spoke first.
Looking up to meet my eyes, Ilgyeokmujeok habitually made lightning flicker across her entire body.
“Do you have a rough idea of why this one has come?”
I nodded.
“You came because of the attack on the Peach Blossom Spring, didn't you? Watching me is just a secondary objective. You must have come on the Hweju's orders.”
Ilgyeokmujeok gave a small nod.
Even in that moment, goosebumps erupted all over my skin, and my instincts were screaming at me to draw my sword.
Facing her alone in this small space, I could feel it.
The unique pressure of a master who had reached the Realm of Life and Death dominated the room.
It’s suffocating.
Moreover, she wasn't even bothering to conceal her power.
This was a peerless master—someone who could crush an opponent with their gaze alone.
I thought I had left my hatred behind in my past life, but it seems that wasn't the case.
The more I looked at her, the more a corner of my heart grew foul, and I wanted nothing more than to cut off Ilgyeokmujeok's head with my sword right then and there.
The girl before me was a great evil.
That was an undeniable fact.
The master of a one-person succession sect called the Pacheonmun.
An absolute being who roamed the martial world, a monster belonging to neither the Righteous, the Unorthodox, nor the Demonic factions.
She suddenly asked me,
“What was this one’s end like?”
Ilgyeokmujeok's final moments. There was much I could say, but I summarized it in one phrase.
“Jeogumashin.”
Tamrang let out a long sigh.
“So… it came to that in the end.”
Her words were incomprehensible.
I couldn't understand if she had foreseen her own death or if she had intended to die by Jeogumashin's hand all along.
Jeogumashin, Baek Seolhyang. The Grand Strategist of the Jeongcheonmeng and the living god of the Ilwolsingyo, the Cheonma.
I recalled a pair of dizzying red eyes and quickly shook my head.
It was best not to get involved with her if I could help it.
Come to think of it, how could Baek Seolhyang—who was merely at the Profound Realm—have killed Ilgyeokmujeok?
It wasn't important right now, so I decided to let it go.
A blue flash of lightning sparked for a moment.
I blinked, and Ilgyeokmujeok had placed a Go board on the table.
Where did this come from?
As I was thinking that, a lightning-like glint flickered in Tamrang's eyes.
“This one stole it from the next building.”
It was Ilgyeokmujeok's Upper Dantian insight, and I suddenly felt annoyed. I said to her,
“Stop reading my thoughts.”
It was nothing new, but I didn't use honorifics with most of the old martial artists.
I never saw a reason to, and frankly, why should I respect a bunch of murderers?
Ilgyeokmujeok picked up a black stone, placed it in the center of the board, and spoke.
“Do you know how to play Go?”
I nodded lightly and placed a white stone next to it.
“When I was young, the Sect Leader often taught me, saying it would help with strategy.”
“Good. Then you must also know of the Wigi Sipgyeol.”
With a tak, she began placing black stones again. I, too, matched Ilgyeokmujeok's moves, laying down white stones.
“The ten most important maxims in Go.”
Just because I'm a beggar doesn't mean I'm ignorant.
Any martial artist had to know how to read and write to interpret the oral secrets of martial arts, so in some ways, they were smarter than scholars.
In Go, there's something called a gipung, or a style of play.
It refers to the player's characteristics, and Ilgyeokmujeok's style was surprisingly defensive.
I, on the other hand, had a very aggressive style, so the game was proceeding with me pressuring her.
But she seemed to be enjoying being on the defensive, a small smile playing on her lips as she continuously placed her black stones.
“This one believes there is a high probability that these Ten Precepts of Go were written by a martial artist.”
“Why is that?”
“Geolshin, think about it. Budeuktamseung—'Do not covet victory.' That is a famous maxim in the martial world. Also, Sasochwidae—-'Sacrifice the small to take the large.' Does that not represent the great greed of martial artists? Are they not mad for elixirs, secret martial arts manuals, and famous swords?”
I nodded while continuing to observe Ilgyeokmujeok's movements.
Even if I entered the final match, I had no intention of giving up.
It was in my nature to do my best, even in defeat.
“Keep talking.”
She narrowed her pretty eyes slightly and continued.
“It fits the martial world so well. Is this game of Go not the same? By playing a single game, one can grasp the opponent's characteristics. Your fighting style of constantly pressuring the enemy with a barrage of attacks is also revealed in your play style.”
Is that so? To be honest, I still didn't quite understand why she was telling me all this.
Before I knew it, the game had turned, and Ilgyeokmujeok was now cornering me.
When had it turned out like this?
Was Go one of Ilgyeokmujeok's hobbies?
I wasn't a bad player myself, so I couldn't help but be a little surprised.
How many years had I spent giving advice to the old men playing Go in the marketplace?
Soon, Tamrang elegantly placed a black stone and captured all of my territory.
I thought I was winning, only to be defeated so helplessly.
The girl gave a strange smile and continued speaking.
“Gongpigoa—Before attacking me, should you not have looked at your own openings? This applies to the state of your body as well. The future version of this one must have fought you when your talents had fully blossomed. I am quite envious of that.”
“So, you’re telling me to get my body into perfect condition?”
Tamrang nodded.
Of course, the sight of her sitting with her legs crossed nonchalantly looked perfectly natural.
The disposition of someone who has ordered others around their entire life.
“That way, will it not be more enjoyable for this one? I will match my true energy to your level to fight you.”
She's going to lower her martial prowess to the very bottom just to match me?
Is she not a complete battle maniac?
The sharpest divine sword wielded by the Amcheon Hweju. It was certainly a stretch to consider her sane.
But even so, it was hard to ignore Ilgyeokmujeok's words.
My body was, in fact, a complete wreck.
The biggest problem was the qi deviation from my premature initiation into Sun and Moon Heavenly Art.
My physical condition was a mess because of it.
In truth, the only way to resolve this was for me to become stronger.
In that case, I first needed to get my body into better shape.
A good night's sleep should fix it.
Sleep had a way of relieving the fatigue our bodies weren't even aware of.
This was something that couldn't be solved with elixirs or martial arts, so I decided not to touch any alcohol tonight and go to bed early.
“Tamrang.”
Ilgyeokmujeok, who had been dangling and kicking her feet from the chair, answered,
“Hmm?”
“If you’re done with your business, stop acting friendly and get lost.”
Ilgyeokmujeok vanished like lightning.
At the same time, extreme fatigue slammed into my body. According to the senses of my Upper Dantian, it was astonishing that only half a shichen (one hour) had passed. It felt like I’d been tormented for half a day.
Hwapyeong was probably still staying in the Guest Hall, as usual.
I felt bad for him, but it couldn't be helped.
What could I do about his own karma?
Feeling the soft touch of the blanket, I drifted off to sleep.
As Geolshin would say, the night wind was cold, but the blanket was warm.
The first thing I saw when I woke up was the Go board I hadn't cleaned up yesterday.
I barely managed to focus my blurry vision and put the board away.
A guest must fulfill their duties, mustn't they?
In this respect, one could say that Geolshin Wangcho surpassed even Mencius.
After tidying up the Go board and putting it in a corner, I felt I should at least wash up, since it was the day of the finals.
I went outside, washed up roughly, and came back.
I tied the iron sword I'd kept by my head since my past life to guard against ambushes to my waist, and also fastened the eight knots symbolizing my status as a disciple of the Beggars' Sect to my belt.
As a beggar's last shred of pride, I didn't change my clothes.
The day to change them would come when the time was right.
Come to think of it, were these clothes originally red?
I don't know.
It's not important anyway.
Knock. Knock
Hearing the sound from the door, I stretched once and said,
“Come in.”
As I watched the creaking door open, a large figure appeared.
Despite a frame that looked well over six feet tall, he had an innocent face.
He joined his palms together and spoke in a voice like a cave.
“I will escort you to the training grounds.”
I followed the reliable-looking disciple and headed for the Thirty-Six Chambers of Shaolin.
Normally, I would’ve made some pointless joke, but I didn't feel like it today.
It wasn't nervousness.
I was a warrior who had fought not just a hundred battles, but a thousand, ten thousand.
If I had the nerve to get tense over something like this, I would’ve died long ago.
As I naturally stepped onto the dueling stage, a roar of cheers erupted from the crowd.
The Shaolin Temple had turned into a crucible of excitement.
It wasn't exactly a pretty sight, with low-life gamblers mixed in with this sacred temple.
But since it was a scene of my own making, I kept my mouth shut and drew the iron sword from my waist.
Woooong—
The iron sword let out a resonant hum of Sword-Spirit Unity.
Sword-Spirit Unity was an art where the bond with the swordsman was crucial.
The fact that the iron sword let out a cry meant my bond with it had surpassed a certain point.
Crackle—
The sound of lightning tickled my ear.
The blowing wind was quite warm. It was that time of year, transitioning from summer to autumn.
Ilgyeokmujeok, emitting blue lightning from both hands, raised the corners of her mouth into a smile, and I, gripping the hilt of my iron sword tightly, bared my teeth and grinned back.
“This one finds your bravado quite delightful.”
“That cringey way you talk is really getting on my nerves.”
The moment the referee raised the yellow flag to signal the start of the duel, we both charged without a second thought.
0 Comments