The Martial Genius Who Remembers Everything Novel - Chapter 15

Chapter 15
Chapter 15. A Third-Rate Warrior Who Saves a Girl (2)

Situated nearest to the quarters of the Sect Leader, the Ironflight Pavilion served as the premier lodging for distinguished visitors arriving at the Iron Sword Sect. Consequently, its accommodations were superb, and its defensive measures were typically unmatched. On this occasion, however, the customary sentries who should have secured the perimeter were entirely absent. This unusual vacancy stemmed from the fact that Jegal So-myeong was occupying the structure. Moreover, Jegal So-myeong was currently examining the physical state of the very individual who had dragged the reputation of the Iron Sword Sect through the mud. Because of this, absolutely no swordsman from the sect was willing to step forward and serve as a guard at the Ironflight Pavilion.

“…”

Pacing restlessly around the perimeter of the Ironflight Pavilion, Seong Mo-ran breathed out one heavy sigh after another. Her distress did not arise from grand political concerns, such as a potential rift forming between the Murim Alliance and the Iron Sword Sect. Rather, her anxiety centered entirely on the wounded youth currently receiving medical attention from Jegal So-myeong. This singular person had dealt a devastating blow to the pride of the Iron Sword Sect—a strike so profoundly damaging that even dousing their entire estate in oil and reducing it to ashes could not have caused greater ruin to their standing.

“Haa…”

Seong Mo-ran lamented the tangled state of her own feelings, which she found utterly impossible to decipher. An unexpected bond of sympathy had stirred within her when she witnessed him pushing Seong Mo-hyeon into a desperate position. His combat style owed nothing to advanced internal energy cultivation or secret manuals; instead, it relied entirely on a fluid responsiveness forged through sheer, unremitting toil. Only someone like Seong Mo-ran, who had spent countless hours searching for a method to overcome Seong Mo-hyeon without depending on superior internal cultivation or orthodox forms, could truly appreciate what he had achieved.

Furthermore, she could not forget his intense declarations.

“Atone for what you have done!”

“Suffer the proper consequences for the wicked deeds perpetrated by you and your bloodline!”

It was a fierce dedication to justice, bellowed out even as he coughed up crimson pools.

“In that case… I shall exact the payment in blood.”

He possessed a terrifying certainty and a readiness to embrace his own demise, fully aware that the odds were overwhelmingly against him. Although her own family members—her grandfather, her father, her siblings—and the entire martial cohort of the Iron Sword Sect were facing severe disgrace, Seong Mo-ran had found herself unable to look away from Jin So-un while he bled and his gaze burned with unyielding fire.

‘What kind of person is he…’

He was ostensibly their adversary, yet merely observing him caused her pulse to race erratically. Simultaneously, a dull, agonizing ache rippled through her breast. Ultimately, when he successfully demonstrated the truth of his cause and lost consciousness from sheer exhaustion, Seong Mo-ran had to forcibly freeze her own legs, which had instinctively started moving forward to rush to Jin So-un’s side.

“Huu.”

What path was left for her to take? Their connection had evolved far beyond a casual interest or simple inquisitiveness. The reality that they were now explicitly on opposing sides made any interaction vastly more complicated. Yet, despite fully recognizing this barrier, she could not explain her own reluctance to leave the vicinity. ‘No, this is improper.’ Just as Seong Mo-ran braced her resolve and prepared to walk away, the sharp click of an unlatching door caught her attention. Stepping out into the courtyard through the open threshold was Jin So-un, his face drained of color, holding the Ninefold Sword. Seong Mo-ran immediately averted her face, deliberately attempting to avoid catching his glance.

“…”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

To her surprise, he simply walked right past her, treating her presence as though she were completely invisible. The fragile composure she had just regained shattered instantly, her heart hammering against her ribs once more.

“You acted far too rashly.”

The moment the sentence escaped, she mentally reproached herself, realizing her mistake too late. As Jin So-un turned a frosty, indifferent look toward her, a sharp pang went through Seong Mo-ran’s heart.

“In what way?”

“The challenge… did you truly need to push things to such a dangerous extreme?”

“Are you suggesting that I ought to have submissively endured a degrading insult?”

“That is not it… what I intend to say is…”

The expressions coming from her mouth completely failed to reflect her true internal sentiments. Since she had not yet clarified her own chaotic thoughts, she could only stammer out inadequate phrases. As Jin So-un shifted his weight and advanced a single stride toward her, Seong Mo-ran instinctively retreated a step to maintain the distance.

“Do you believe your perspective holds true?”

“Excuse me?”

“I am asking if your assumptions are accurate. My own father was forced to his knees, and despite coughing up blood, I refused to tolerate that disgrace, demanding a fatal reckoning from your grandfather. Given all of this, can you genuinely maintain your pride in a sect that behaves so despicably?”

“…”

Seong Mo-ran bit down hard on her bottom lip. She had nothing to say. Would claiming ignorance or insisting that she played no part in the matter offer her any real justification or relief? Could such empty phrases bind up the deep emotional trauma inflicted upon him? These agonizing questions swirled through her mind without pause.

“…Please accept my apologies.”

Two decades prior, her family had subjected his father to that precise degradation, and now, two decades later, they had reenacted the identical cruelty. Had she been the victim of such cyclical malice, would she possess the capacity to grant absolution? Could she simply turn a blind eye to it? The very notion felt utterly implausible.

“I acknowledge your words. You may look up now.”

“What did you say?”

Seong Mo-ran questioned him once more, half-believing her ears were playing tricks on her. Was it truly this straightforward? His immediate and gentle acceptance of her contrition left Seong Mo-ran feeling deeply embarrassed by the sheer grace of his response.

“Miss Seong, you stand as the solitary individual within the Iron Sword Sect who has offered me any form of regret. I doubt anyone else from your domain will ever follow suit.”

“…Does an apology from someone like me genuinely suffice?”

“We should not perpetuate this destructive cycle of vengeance indefinitely, should we?”

“What are you implying?”

“If Miss Seong harbors genuine remorse for today’s events, if you possess even the slightest shred of conscience regarding it, then use that feeling to transform the Iron Sword Sect into something better than what it is today. Should you succeed, then perhaps in the future, the Taeul Sect and the Iron Sword Sect might find a way to work alongside one another as allies.”

An intense, undefinable wave of sentiment washed over Seong Mo-ran.

Indeed.

This was the core of his character.

Jin So-un possessed a nobility that set him apart. Her elder sibling nor her grandfather had possessed the humility to utter a solitary word of regret, which was precisely why this conflict had escalated to such disastrous proportions. Her immense sense of wrongdoing compounded into a mixture of sorrow and profound appreciation, overflowing entirely.

“…I am deeply, truly sorry.”

“Weeping is unbefitting of a martial artist.”

Hearing his soft, comforting tone, a sense of peace settled over her spirit, prompting her to brush away her moisture-laden eyes.

“How is your physical health?”

“Due to the internal energy disruption caused by that massive surge of spiritual force, my vitality and circulatory paths remain misaligned, so an extended period of rest is required.”

“…”

“There is no need for great concern. The foundational internal cultivation style of the Taeul Sect is exceptionally refined, so after roughly twelve months of quiet meditation, I expect a complete recovery.”

“…A-an entire year?”

“Correct. It means my performance on the upcoming Murim Academy examinations will be compromised, but failing to complete my studies at the Murim Academy will hardly ruin my future entirely. Haha.”

For a martial practitioner who had not even crossed the threshold of twenty years, how invaluable was a single year of growth? Once those twelve months slipped away, Jin So-un would undoubtedly find himself lagging far behind his peers, not just among the elite of the Iron Sword Sect, but even within the ranks of his own Taeul Sect comrades. Despite this grim reality, her brief expression of remorse was enough to erase any trace of bitterness or fury from his demeanor. To a man of his stature, such severe setbacks and tribulations appeared insignificant. In truth, because his past had already been scarred by monumental suffering, he possessed the rare fortitude to look upon his current misfortune with total equanimity.

Throughout her vigil in the courtyard, Seong Mo-ran had been locked in a fierce internal debate regarding a specific item. She had wavered constantly between presenting it to him or keeping it hidden. At this moment, her doubts vanished entirely. Indeed, his noble words rendered any further hesitation meaningless. It was an item she possessed solely due to her status as a direct bloodline relative of the revered Ghost Sword Immortal Elder. Because of its immense value, even she had refrained from utilizing it for her own advancement. Reaching into her garments, she retrieved the item.

“What might this be?”

“Regardless of my personal feelings, I remain an adherent of the Iron Sword Sect. While this offering cannot possibly undo the gravity of what transpired, please receive it as a token of my sincerity. Naturally, I do not imagine this trivial item can truly make amends for the transgressions of the Iron Sword Sect. I merely offer it in the earnest hope that, in accordance with your wishes, a harmonious bond might eventually form between the Taeul Sect and the Iron Sword Sect hereafter, Young Master.”

Jin So-un stared at the small wooden container for an instant before reaching out to take it into his hands.

“The responsibilities weighing upon Miss Seong, who must eventually guide the future of the Iron Sword Sect, will likely prove far more burdensome than the challenges facing the Taeul Sect. Nonetheless, I gratefully receive your kindness.”

A bittersweet sorrow pierced her mind over the cruel irony of their lineages; why did she belong to the Iron Sword Sect, while he hailed from the Taeul Sect? Seong Mo-ran felt a deep despair regarding her family origins—a profound melancholy that even the troublesome presence of Seong Mo-hyeon had never managed to evoke.

“It is my wish that our next encounter will be marked by joy.”

Prompted by the slight quiver in Seong Mo-ran’s words, a gentle expression finally graced Jin So-un’s face as he offered a warm look.

“That is my hope as well.”

When the third morning arrived, we departed from the estate of the Iron Sword Sect. Predictably, not a single soul gathered to bid us farewell. Acting on my behalf, Kang Chae-seok swaddled the Ninefold Sword securely in thick fabric, pressing it firmly against his torso even while sleeping. Throughout the entire day-long journey returning to the Taeul Sect, he refused to detach himself from the weapon for even a moment.

“Even so, bringing that weapon directly into the latrine seems slightly excessive, don’t you think?”

“Are you implying that the latrine is perfectly immune to thieves?”

“Are you unaware of historical precedents? The privy ranks as the second most frequent location for stealthy killers to strike their targets. When a person is entirely occupied with relieving themselves, even a legendary figure among the Ten Greatest Masters under Heaven will inevitably lower his defenses, wouldn’t you agree?”

“…”

It required that specific, peculiar line of reasoning to finally convince him to leave the Ninefold Sword outside whenever he needed to tend to his personal business. During this period, whispered reports regarding our exploits had outpaced us and reached the Taeul Sect, though within our home walls, the tales were universally dismissed as fabrications. Given that the geographical gap between the sects was relatively brief, dispatching formal couriers to verify the details felt unnecessary; furthermore, the reports sounded so utterly fantastical that everyone chose to ignore them entirely.

However, the moment it was confirmed that the item Kang Chae-seok held so fiercely against his chest—resembling a man clutching a beloved partner—was indeed the legendary Ninefold Sword, the senior Elders and various Hall Masters assembled inside the Great Mysterious Hall threw their arms around one another, weeping openly out of pure ecstasy. For the members of the Taeul Sect, whose legacy had been marred by continuous degradation and sorrow ever since the rise of the Iron Sword Sect, this historic occasion represented the lifting of a century and a half of bitter grievances. Alongside the senior leadership, even the youthful disciples residing in Busaeng Hall held onto one another, crying out in celebration.

An occasion of such immense significance could not be permitted to conclude without proper festivity. The senior leadership collectively marched toward the Outer Hall, demanding that a grand celebration be organized immediately. However, my father, whose frugality resembled a completely frozen padlock, stubbornly argued that due to a severe lack of operational funds, a modest evening meal ought to suffice instead.

“How can you suggest such a thing? This object is the Ninefold Sword, which our own disciple, Jin So-un, retrieved by putting his very survival on the line!”

Even Hong Mun-gi, the esteemed Sect Leader, intervened directly to reason with Jin Tae-san, the stubborn Outer Hall Master, but the man remained completely unyielding in his position.

“My own life was put in jeopardy during that excursion, and the Swift Blossom Hall Master similarly faced mortal peril! Do you remain unconcerned that throwing such a lavish party will diminish the quality of our young pupils’ daily meals for the next six months?”

“This is an extraordinary achievement, is it not? Young So-un successfully restored the dignity of the Taeul Sect!”

“I am fully aware of that fact, good grief! Therefore, let us compromise by organizing a basic evening assembly.”

“…In that case, I shall finance the event using my own private funds.”

Confronted by the unyielding stance of Jin Tae-san, who defended the treasury much like Zhang Fei at Changban Bridge, Hong Mun-gi eventually relented and surrendered his personal hidden savings. Inspired by the action of Hong Mun-gi, the remaining Elders and Hall Masters followed suit, pooling their own spare coins together to cover the necessary banquet expenditures.

“Father, our financial reserves are surely not depleted to such a desperate degree, are they?”

When I questioned his motives, keeping in mind the financial logs I regularly reviewed for auditing purposes, my father flashed a highly satisfied grin.

“By acting in this manner, did we not manage to extract the hidden personal reserves of both the Sect Leader and the senior leadership? It is absurd for them to consider dipping into our communal treasury just for the sake of merrymaking and dining!”

“…”

When word of the impending banquet reached the ears of the Gyeryong Merchant Guild, Gye Yeon-seok reacted with immense eagerness, immediately offering to personally donate two head of cattle, five swine, and ten large vessels of fine wine. On this occasion, his usual abrasive pride and condescending demeanor were nowhere to be found. This sudden humility arose because during the critical juncture when the representatives of the Taeul Sect stood prepared to sacrifice their lives within the compound of the Iron Sword Sect, Gye Cheol-yeong had quietly abandoned them, leaving the guild leader deeply embarrassed to look anyone in the eye.

As a consequence of these developments, the leadership resolved that out of the trio of Iron Heart Pills obtained from the Iron Sword Sect, a pair would be allocated to Sa-ryeon and myself, while the single leftover medicine would be reserved for a future student demonstrating exceptional progress. Desperate to salvage his family’s reputation through any means necessary, Gye Yeon-seok arranged a private audience with the Sect Leader, proposing that if they transferred a solitary Iron Heart Pill to Gye Cheol-yeong, he would hand over ownership of three thriving taverns in exchange. However, reports indicated that Hong Mun-gi adopted a fierce expression, warning the merchant that any further absurd requests would result in the immediate banishment of Gye Cheol-yeong from the ranks of the Taeul Sect.

“Utter insanity, absolute madness! What could possibly make a single Iron Heart Pill that incredibly valuable?”

“Even so, due to these strict standards, the younger students of Busaeng Hall are training with far greater diligence, aren’t they?”

“You foolish child! Controlling three establishments within Hefei would generate ample revenue to procure five separate Iron Heart Pills annually! How can I not feel entirely sick over this missed opportunity?”

“If you intend to complain with such intensity, you should at least conceal the grin stretching across your face.”

“Mind your tongue, you rascal!”

“I shall take my leave for a short while.”

“Where do you think you are heading at this hour?”

“I have grown weary of listening to Father obsess endlessly over finances, so I intend to go out and generate some income.”

“Insolent boy! What method could you possibly have to generate income!”

“I shall return shortly.”

Finally, the moment had arrived to sever the ties between the Gyeryong Merchant Guild and the Taeul Sect.