The Martial Genius Who Remembers Everything Novel - Chapter 193

Chapter 193
Chapter 193. Messenger from the Past (3)

The Murim Academy announced a two-week hiatus to allow those hurt during the Sichuan incident time to recover.

This break provided my circle, which had been pushing itself to the limit, a necessary reprieve. With no pressing duties, I returned my focus to the training I had been delaying.

“Even after studying it repeatedly, it remains elusive. What kind of sword style is this?”

They say the world contains as many odd martial arts as there are people, but the Three Forms of the White Moon Governing Heaven stands out as particularly bizarre.

Though defined by three forms, it cannot be categorized by those numbers alone.

Each form is built not upon a set sequence of strikes, but on the concept of movement itself. Any motion can become a form, and conversely, following the motions perfectly might not result in the form at all.

“Is it comparable to the Flowing Cloud Divine Art in that regard?”

Critics often dismissed the Flowing Cloud Sect’s martial arts as incomplete, though this wasn’t due to the techniques being forgotten or the lineage broken like in the Taeul Sect.

The art remained intact, but the method of instruction wasn’t something that could be recorded in manuals.

It seems likely that at some point in the distant past, the true teaching method was lost, causing the Flowing Cloud Divine Art to degrade into a shadow of its former self.

“At least I recall Master Baek’s techniques vividly enough to practice on my own.”

Usually, a style like the Flowing Cloud Divine Art cannot be mastered in isolation.

This was exactly why Yaryul Jae sought to perfect the style through real-world duels.

According to him, although he finalized it quite late, he did succeed in completing the martial art before he passed.

Just as I had done for Murong Jae-hwa, I intended to pass on to Yaryul Geuk the art that Yaryul Jae had sacrificed everything to finalize in my former life, but…

“Ugh! Forget it! What am I supposed to do about that brat’s complete lack of manners!”

I pushed those frustrating thoughts away and returned my concentration to the training.

If the essence of the First Form of the Three Forms of the White Moon Governing Heaven was Extreme Swiftness, the essence of the Second Form was Perfection.

While it leaned more toward defense, as I noted, it was not restricted to it.

It is a technique capable of shifting into an aggressive strike whenever required.

“To put it simply, it’s the philosophy of attacking using a shield.”

I didn’t come up with that terminology; it was noted in Baek Hae-gwang’s Secret Manual.

[Defend with a shield and strike with a shield. Then, there is no need to draw a separate blade.]

The only person in the world who would characterize a defensive sword barrier in such a way is the Sword Demon.

While it is a drastic interpretation, the Second Form, Perfection, is not a wall that hides away, but one that moves forward.

The Sword Demon’s personality was plainly stamped onto his martial art.

He was a man who lived by the creed: ‘The most effective defense is a relentless offense.’

I continued to recite the contents of the Secret Manual of the Three Forms of the White Moon Governing Heaven within my mind.

[There must be zero openings in the screen. The Black Path’s Hidden Weapons are tiny enough to go unseen. The barrier must be as solid as diamond. The Shandong Ak Clan’s Hegemonic Way is strong enough to blast away any rival who dares block it.]

As befitting a style forged through hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of life-or-death encounters, the manual was written with intuitive clarity, free of cryptic jargon.

It even included records of engagements against great masters he had faced, and he described his own defeats with startling honesty.

The accounts were so precise that I could visualize these legendary opponents as if I were standing across from them myself.

“Right. Time to start.”

I took a breath and began to manifest the mental notes into physical actions.

‘First, cover the gaps.’

The adversary I conjured was a former Black Path master known as the Hidden Weapon Ghost.

He was a legendary figure who fired Ox-Hair Needles, a common choice for hidden weapon specialists, with the speed of a phantom.

I projected this mental construct of the Hidden Weapon Ghost into the reality of my training space.

Ordinarily, to improve, I would engage in a Mind-Image Martial Duel—like when I mastered the First Form—but the process is excruciating and carries severe physical side effects.

Unless I had to deploy the Second Form in a life-or-death struggle tomorrow, it was wiser to advance steadily.

SHING.

The Black Dragon Sword cleared its scabbard with a sharp, resonant ring.

The Hidden Weapon Ghost stood across from me, his hands relaxed within his sleeves.

I executed the Opening Stance and immediately began channeling the Second Form of the Three Forms of the White Moon Governing Heaven.

HUM, HUM.

The sound of my blade slicing through the air grew more piercing.

Before long, the Sword Qi that had been tracing lines through the air coalesced into a tight, impenetrable web.

SWISH- SWISH-

Sword Qi wove through the gaps in the web, and now, not a single opening remained.

Or so it seemed.

“Aaaaagh!”

My muscles were straining to the point of tearing, and sweat drenched my robes.

The massive, one-jang-wide sword screen surged toward the Hidden Weapon Ghost, threatening to envelop him entirely.

Suddenly, the Hidden Weapon Ghost whipped one hand out from his sleeve with a snap of his wrist.

The Ox-Hair Needles materialized in a blur.

Against the seemingly impenetrable shield I had created, the three needles looked destined to be swatted away effortlessly.

But.

WHIZZ-

In a heartbeat, the three Ox-Hair Needles pierced through my barrier, targeting my most vital pressure points.

‘In an actual fight, I would be a corpse already.’

I was certain I had sealed every possible flaw in that defensive screen, yet the Hidden Weapon Ghost had found the exact weak point and driven his needles through it.

‘Again.’

I repeated the simulated duel twenty-three times, yet I failed to hold out for even five strikes.

“Huff, huff, huff.”

Perhaps because I was putting my actual body into the motions, the strain of the Second Form left me gasping for air.

Furthermore, while it wasn’t a full Mind-Image Martial Duel, the act of visualizing the opponent with such clarity drained my mental reserves, making my head feel like it was ablaze.

“Ugh, this is brutal…”

After exhaling a cloud of hot air, I collapsed onto the ground to reflect on the sparring match.

The sword screen that had looked flawless.

And the Hidden Weapon Ghost’s needles that had shattered it easily.

“…To think he targeted the tiny lag in the trajectory where the sword had just moved. A monster is truly a monster.”

When I considered how even an existence as powerful as he had died without ever seeing his natural end, I realized how far I still had to go.

I tried to calm my racing heart as I sank down.

“Don’t rush yourself. You’ve come a long way. Just keep going like this.”

As I gazed up at the clear sky, a familiar tone echoed nearby.

“Don’t rush yourself. You’ve come a long way. Just keep going like this.”

A voice repeating my own words back to me.

“…”

I turned my head with a scowl, only to find the Gold-Silver-Copper Brothers standing behind me.

“…How long have you been lurking there?”

Eun-ho reached out, splayed his palm, then curled it into a fist and lowered his voice significantly.

“Don’t rush yourself. You’ve come a long way. Just keep going like this.”

A mischievous grin spread across Eun-ho’s face as he repeated the line.

“…We got here right when you were saying that.”

“…”

I really haven’t disciplined that kid enough lately.

I glared at them, my hand itching to deliver a lesson, when I realized something surprising.

Wait, had their progress in the Ghost-Breathing Step I taught them really reached this level so quickly?

Just as I felt a flicker of pride, Eun-ho’s voice interrupted again.

The brat even performed a formal clasped-hands salute and bowed.

“Eldest Senior Brother, may I ask a quick question?”

“No. If you’re just going to make fun of me, don’t bother opening your mouth.”

“I’m just asking out of genuine curiosity.”

What was with that look?

He seemed surprisingly earnest, so I decided to hear him out.

“…What is it?”

“Have you perhaps reached puberty?”

“…”

His respectful demeanor vanished, and his eyes sparkled like a child who had found a hidden treasure.

“Do you feel like you have to rebel against the elders, or like you’re an evil being concealing some dark secret?”

“…”

“Or do you feel like you’re destined to become a hero protecting justice and upholding Chivalrous Righteousness?”

Wow, he really hasn’t been beaten enough.

Let’s see how far he goes.

“Do you feel like a dragon is writhing inside your chest, and if you just open your palm, dark energy will burst out…”

“…Eun-ho.”

“Ah! Eldest Senior Brother, I understand everything. We’ve all gone through it. Brother Geum-pyo even tried Void-Stepping on top of a wall…”

I launched myself off the ground.

“Die!”

Extreme Swiftness, the First Form of the Three Forms of the White Moon Governing Heaven, flew from my hand with magnificent speed.

—

Back inside our living quarters, we sipped tea and snacked on the treats the Gold-Silver-Copper Brothers had brought from the market.

“What were you doing at the market?”

“Dong-ryong’s blade cracked again.”

“Hm?”

Dong-ryong’s sword had already been replaced twice.

Initially, after the Appraisal Envoy visited, Dong-ryong was awarded a blade by the Murim Alliance, and during the Regular Exam, he had been gifted the Firmament Sword of the Namgung Clan.

Both were fine blades compared to standard steel, but they were apparently not suited for Dong-ryong’s style.

‘Of course they weren’t. He uses his sword in such erratic ways, how could any blade withstand that kind of stress?’

Standard swords are balanced for traditional thrusting and slashing.

They are typically reinforced at the tip, with an iron core running through the blade to provide stability.

But since Dong-ryong utilizes the entire length of the blade indiscriminately, the pressure on the metal is extreme.

I spoke to the Gold-Silver-Copper Brothers,

“For now, use whatever the Academy issues. A sword that has cracked once is a liability; it will break without warning.”

“You mean a standard Blue Steel Sword? That won’t last a day in Dong-ryong’s grip.”

“It’s fine. Use one temporarily, and I will secure a new sword for him soon.”

“A new one?”

I had already handed the Diamond Indestructible Iron, Phoenix Wutong Copper, and Blood Sea Jade I obtained through Mantongbu to the Wang Escort Agency, with instructions to deliver them to the Taeul Sect.

It would be a while before the smithy was ready, but I wanted Jang Do-won to familiarize himself with the materials beforehand.

The sooner he prepared, the sooner the Red Radiance Sword would be forged and ready for the world.

And once I passed the Black Dragon Sword to Dong-ryong, he would never need another weapon.

Setting aside its other properties, the Black Dragon Sword, forged from Diamond Indestructible Iron—a material that would scoff at any rival in terms of durability—would be perfect for him.

“Keep that in mind. If your current supply sword breaks, just grab a cheap Blue Steel Sword from the market for now.”

“Yes…”

For some reason, Dong-ryong hung his head as if he had committed a crime.

I patted the boy’s head.

“This happened because your talent is extraordinary. Spending money on your growth is never a waste.”

“Really?”

Dong-ryong’s face lit up instantly, beaming like a happy puppy.

As I was enjoying the rare moment of calm with my sect brothers—

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

“Representative Jin, it’s Jang Woo-jae.”

Before I could call out, Jang Woo-jae stepped into the room, greeted the Gold-Silver-Copper Brothers, and looked my way.

I hadn’t scheduled any meeting with him.

“What brings you here?”

“…I have something to report regarding that fellow, Yaryul Geuk.”

I sent the Gold-Silver-Copper Brothers away and spoke with Jang Woo-jae in private.

“After you left, Representative, I kept a close eye on Yaryul Geuk.”

I hadn’t given him a direct order, yet Jang Woo-jae had handled the situation on his own.

It seems I have a good eye for people.

Unlike me, who felt pleased, Jang Woo-jae took a moment to catch his breath before speaking with a worried expression.

“The truth is… lately, Yaryul Geuk’s condition has deteriorated significantly.”

“Deteriorated?”

“Yes… before, he at least didn’t have marks on his face, but recently, the bruises have been increasing, and he has become much more reclusive.”

It hadn’t been that long.

Had Ak Ju-pyeong been acting even more viciously?

“Before, if you asked him what happened, he’d at least fire back with a curse. Now, he keeps his mouth shut and stares at the floor, even during lectures.”

“…”

“When I questioned him carefully three days ago…”

Jang Woo-jae looked as if he was struggling with whether to tell me the truth.

“I pulled back his sleeve and caught a glimpse of his skin… there wasn’t a single unbruised spot left.”

“Haah…”

Jwa Dae-gi, who served in the northern frontier, once told me that military violence is brief and blunt, but the violence practiced by martial artists is persistent and calculated, which is far more terrifying.

Since these practitioners study the human body in depth, they know exactly how to inflict maximum pain without leaving permanent structural damage.

My blood began to boil.

“Where is Yaryul Geuk right now?”

“I haven’t seen him for two days.”

“I see.”

I stood up.

Jang Woo-jae followed suit immediately.

“What are your intentions?”

“First, I need to find him.”

That stubborn idiot.

Why is it that the urge to hide one’s suffering is the same for him as it was for his brother?

—

When I entered the eight-person dormitory, a stir rippled through the students who had been relaxing during the break.

“It’s the Black Flame Dragon!”

“Why is Jin So-un in the eight-person ward?”

“He isn’t with his usual group.”

I ignored them and pushed into Yaryul Geuk’s room.

“Hup!”

“Wh-what is it!”

The students sharing the room with Yaryul Geuk jumped up in alarm.

I scanned the room, trying to calm them down.

“Relax. I’m just looking for someone. Yaryul Geuk is here, isn’t he?”

“Huh?”

“Why would that lunatic…”

“I heard he was here.”

I spotted a figure on one of the bunks with a blanket pulled over his head, walked over, and ripped the covers back.

A confused voice immediately protested.

“Wh-what’s going on?”

“Huh?”

To my surprise, instead of a weeping boy, a stranger’s face looked up at me.

“What the hell, who are you?”

“…That’s what I should be asking…”

SWISH-

I tossed the blanket back over the guy’s face and scanned the room again.

One student spoke up carefully.

“His bed is over there. He hasn’t come back since yesterday…”

“He hasn’t returned?”

“No.”

I inspected the space assigned to Yaryul Geuk.

The other students had lockers and shelves filled with personal belongings, but Yaryul Geuk’s area contained only the basic items issued by the Academy.

Even those were worn thin and frayed, as if they had been used for years.

‘Even beggars don’t live this miserably.’

All he possessed were a few training uniforms and the basic Blue Steel Sword issued at enrollment.

There was absolutely nothing else of value.

I struggled to keep my expression from breaking.

“Hey. Did he have his things stolen, too?”

“…”

The student who had identified the bunk stayed silent.

“I know Yaryul Geuk is being bullied. Did you bastards join in on it?”

“Wh-what are you talking about? Why would we?”

“Answer me. Did someone take his stuff or not?”

The student replied hesitantly.

“They probably weren’t stolen.”

“What does that mean?”

Just as my temper threatened to flare at his vague answer—

“He never had anything to begin with.”

“…Huh?”

I hadn’t expected such an honest response.

“Well, we share the room, so we know. We know how little money he has. I’ve never even seen him step foot outside the Academy grounds.”

I knew the Flowing Cloud Sect had fallen on hard times, but I hadn’t imagined they couldn’t even afford the basics of life.

A very bad feeling washed over me.

“Has he been acting strange lately?”

“…”

“Speak freely.”

“…Well, you know he got beaten up by those guys from the Orthodox Path Association.”

The student scratched his cheek.

“The night before last, he suddenly apologized to me, saying he was sorry for everything up until now.”

“Apologized?”

“Yeah. Sometimes when I came back from the market, I’d buy extra snacks and put them in his drawer.”

“And?”

“He’d find them and throw them back at me.”

“That crazy bastard.”

The student nodded as if this were a normal occurrence.

“Well, yeah. Anyway, it was weird, so I asked him why he was acting like that, and he said his second eldest brother told him to.”

“Second eldest brother??”

“I heard it while half-asleep, so I’m not entirely sure.”

Were there other siblings between the two of them?

But how could a boy who never even left the Academy walls have communicated with his brother?

“What’s your name?”

“Me? Why do you want to know?”

“Just because.”

“Nam Eul-yong.”

“Nam Eul-yong of the Divine Physician Hall?”

Oh, so the same Nam Eul-yong who would one day become one of the Ten Fists of Jiangnan had lived in an eight-person room during his Academy days?

“Do you know who I am?”

I quickly made up an excuse.

“…Well, I’m the Academy Representative, right?”

Before he could question me further, I pulled ten gold taels from my robes and pressed them into his hand.

“Keep half for yourself, and use the rest to look after that crazy brat. If he refuses, force the food on him.”

As I turned toward the door, a confused voice trailed after me.

“…What relation are you to Yaryul Geuk?”

I stopped in my tracks.

I stood there, hand on the doorknob, and hesitated.

What relation, indeed…

From the vast depths of my memory, the image of Yaryul Jae’s face emerged—twisted in rage as he stood in my way.

A faint, bitter smile touched my lips before I could stop it.

“I owe his brother a debt.”

Paying back favors is truly a miserable task.

—

After leaving the dormitory, I sifted through the memories of my previous life.

Yaryul Jae had never once mentioned having other siblings.

Certainly not more than one.

Despite the fact that his sect was destroyed, he was immensely proud of the Flowing Cloud Sect and would boast about it incessantly.

Every time he did, the members of the Sojeong Squad would mock him for belonging to a fallen sect, and that was how the fights always started.

Why would a man like that, while acknowledging his other brother, never breathe a word about the one who had entered the Academy?

The story of Yaryul Jae and the current plight of Yaryul Geuk.

The suffocating life Yaryul Geuk must have led, and the cryptic words he left for Nam Eul-yong.

As I began to link the pieces together, a sudden, horrifying realization hit me.

‘Fuck…!’

I flooded my legs with internal energy.

BOOM.

The earth cracked and dirt sprayed in all directions, but I didn’t care as I pushed my Unrivaled under Heaven Movement Art to its absolute limit.

‘Damn it… why was I so careless in my thinking?’

If my prediction is correct,

Yaryul Geuk is going to die.

Or perhaps, he is already gone.