Chapter 43

Chapter 43

“What do you think a blank slate means for a martial artist?”

“A blank slate?”

“Yes. I’m not trying to judge right or wrong, so tell me what you think.”

“Hmm.”

In the reception room, as I tilted the appropriately warmed teapot to pour tea and asked, Seonwoo Gang, who heard my words, furrowed his brow and pondered deeply before offering a response.

“…A state where one has learned nothing, isn’t it?”

“Right. That’s what most would say.”

While affirming Seonwoo Gang’s words, I smiled and pushed the teacup forward to hand it to him. Then Seonwoo Gang carefully received the teacup with both hands.

“People commonly say those who haven’t learned anything are ‘like a blank slate.’ Then let’s think conversely. If those who haven’t learned anything are like a blank slate, what should we liken those who have learned something to?”

“…It would be a painting. Or writing.”

“Right. It naturally becomes so.”

I nodded and felt the warmth enveloping my grip as I tilted the teacup.

“Martial arts are like a painting. Training techniques is no different from applying colors to a blank slate. Can you reverse a line wrongly drawn on blank paper?”

“…You cannot.”

“Right. A line once drawn cannot be reversed. Even if you try to reverse it, you must expend tremendous effort compared to drawing a single line. Only then can you barely erase one line. Martial arts are the same.”

In those martial arts novels circulating in the market, they think that as long as you have enlightenment, your realm will rise on its own, but originally martial arts are closer to ‘accumulating’ rather than ‘realizing.’ Through hundreds and thousands of arduous training sessions, carving paths into the unconscious and repeating that to build a grand castle.

Generally, martial arts are like that. You cannot reverse what you’ve learned, nor should you reverse it.

However.

Seonwoo Gang’s case is a bit different.

“Your state is, to put it simply, close to a blank slate that isn’t a blank slate.”

“A blank slate that isn’t a blank slate… do you mean?”

“Yes.”

I nodded in affirmation at Seonwoo Gang’s words and continued.

“Didn’t I say earlier that martial arts are like a painting?”

“Yes.”

“You, to use an analogy, are like having completed one proper painting. At that point, even if you try to erase and fix the painting, it’s virtually impossible. Returning to a blank slate is impossible.”

Seonwoo Gang looked directly at me while maintaining silence.

It would certainly seem strange to say this after telling him until now that I congratulated him for becoming a blank slate. Even I would probably think so.

But you need to hear words until the end to understand.

“—That’s only if we’re talking about returning to a blank slate.”

I quietly opened my mouth.

“Can paintings only be drawn on blank slates?”

“That’s not the case.”

“Right. If martial arts are like paintings, as long as you can draw a painting, it’s sufficient no matter what you use. If your martial arts are already a standardized painting, it’s not easy to draw one or two lines to make it a different painting. But what if instead of drawing one or two lines, you pour all the black ink onto the paper?”

“The painting… won’t remain.”

“Right.”

You cannot undo what you’ve already learned. Even if you open the head and knead the brain, it’s impossible to selectively forget memories.

Then what if you instead infinitely increase the options?

Part of that is opening all the blood vessels throughout the body. If you open all the blood vessels throughout the body, you may become weaker in the short term by departing from standardization, but the range of options will become tremendously wide.

“You’ve just finished the first stage, so it’s time to move to this stage. In other words, you should now draw a painting with white lines on black paper covered in ink. Are you prepared?”

“…Of course I am.”

“Then I’ll give you homework.”

I smiled faintly while rotating the half-remaining teacup in my hand, then raised my gaze to look directly at Seonwoo Gang. Seonwoo Gang looking at me with eyes filled with firm determination.

“What should I do? Should I swing my sword until I collapse? Or should I endlessly research paths like my fellow disciples…”

I chuckled, feeling Seonwoo Gang’s tension transmitted beyond my fingertips. And.

“Nothing.”

“…Pardon?”

At my following words, Seonwoo Gang made a dumbfounded expression.

“Do nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

Training day 12.

“Oh Ryeong, sixty-seven exchanges. Eliminated!”

“…Aaaah!”

As soon as Baek Riyun’s declaration fell, Oh Ryeong, who had grabbed her head, gritted her teeth.

“Just a bit more and I would have made it!”

Seomun Cheok, who had been watching the sparring in silence, also nodded. Though it sounds like the usual words, Oh Ryeong’s skills had actually risen to a level where it wouldn’t be strange if she passed this training at any time.

‘I’m learning more than I thought.’

Until training started, Seomun Cheok hadn’t had high expectations for the training itself.

Isn’t that natural? It’s strange to expect something to change with training of barely half a month. Among those who entered Muryeongwan, there’s no one who learned martial arts for less than ten years, so does it make sense to raise such people’s skills in barely half a month?

But that expectation was easily shattered. By none other than their own skills.

‘It’s changed remarkably.’

Oh Ryeong, who withstood eight exchanges on the first day, now withstands sixty-seven exchanges. He himself, who could only withstand two exchanges on the first day, can now withstand over eighty exchanges against those two. That means they’ve become that accustomed to this method. Is that all?

To respond to all possibilities with one method, naturally you must know all possibilities. Having researched all kinds of bizarre and extraordinary paths, they can immediately respond without being easily flustered no matter what kind of attack comes flying.

To put it bluntly, they’ve awakened their stiff heads by escaping from the familiarity ingrained in their bodies. That could be seen as the greatest achievement of this training.

Right. The training they’re accomplishing has clear meaning. Though it was puzzling at first, now they can see it’s not meaningless training. So the other training must be the same.

…It should be.

Seomun Cheok, who had briefly turned his gaze, looked at Seonwoo Gang standing blankly in the distance and frowned.

‘…What meaning does that training have?’

It was only two days ago that Seonwoo Gang started coming to the training ground after his individual training with Baek Riyun ended.

At first, though he was late, they naturally thought he would participate in training. Even though there were only about five days remaining, everyone knew this training would be sufficiently helpful.

However.

—Not permitted.

That was Baek Riyun’s answer. That Seonwoo Gang must not participate in this training. That he couldn’t let him participate.

The result of that is what you see.

‘…There must be some reason.’

Though Seonwoo Gang goes around with a good-natured smile, he’s not entirely a pushover. If that training really had no meaning at all, he wouldn’t be staying still like this.

‘First, I need to take care of myself.’

Having finished his thoughts, Seomun Cheok checked his weapon and condition and stood up. It was about time for his turn.

“Next, Seomun Cheok.”

“Yes.”

At Baek Riyun’s call, Seomun Cheok gripped his spear shaft and stepped forward. Seohua and Wang Pal, who had returned to a clean state, seemingly having recovered their stamina to some degree during their brief rest.

“Are you okay? It hasn’t been long since the fierce battle.”

“Yes? Ah, I’m fine. I rested a bit, and if nothing else, I’m confident in my recovery ability!”

“I see.”

Seomun Cheok, who nodded at Seohua’s spirited response, pointed his spear blade forward.

“I won’t lose this time.”

“Huh. Didn’t you say that yesterday too?”

“…Did I say that?”

“You’re terrible at acting. Hehe. It seems you remember?”

“No.”

“Yes. I’ll let you have that.”

“I said no.”

Seohua, who let out a faint smile, clenched her tightly rolled fist and extended it forward, taking a salute stance.

“Seohua and Wang Pal of Uicheonmun request your guidance.”

“…Seomun Cheok requests your guidance.”

Seomun Cheok, who returned the salute, took a step back while waiting for the start signal. The distance between them: one and a half zhang. For martial artists, a distance no different from a single step.

“…Hoooo.”

He exhaled and relaxed all his body’s muscles so he could extend at any time. The loosely gripped spear shaft fit snugly in his hand. A cool chill flowing into his palm like when he first gripped a spear.

But there was no fear like back then. What was permeating his body now was an inexplicable exhilaration and.

Only anticipation.

“Begin!”

Swooooosh!

The moment the signal fell, the spear shaft cut through the air and charged toward Seohua. A path he had practiced tens, hundreds, thousands of times over the past 12 days.

‘She’ll block.’

Prediction precedes before the opponent responds. Of course she’ll block. Seohua and Wang Pal’s level isn’t low enough to be caught by the first strike.

No matter how many thousands of times Seomun Cheok practiced, Seohua and Wang Pal also went through roughly 180 matches over 12 days. How many times must they have seen this path? How to respond must already be stuck in their heads like a formula.

So they’ll block it. Surely Seohua and Wang Pal won’t deviate from his expectations. Because that’s how it’s been for the past 12 days.

That’s only to say, it’s been that way ‘until now.’

Thud!

Seohua, who responded without a moment’s hesitation as if it were natural, struck aside the spear’s side with her palm and dug forward. Simultaneously, Wang Pal followed from behind with cold, sunken eyes.

Closing the distance against a spear wielder. An extremely textbook response. Originally, he would have stepped back while sweeping with Rannachar’s momentum. However, that’s impossible. All techniques besides the basic spear thrust are blocked.

Then should he retreat?

‘No.’

He’d already retreated countless times. He made many mistakes while caught up in the notion that a spear wielder must maintain distance. Then.

Now it’s time to break that.

‘If the spear won’t work, with my body…!’

Seomun Cheok took a step forward and bit down hard.

‘…A mistake? No.’

Seohua, who wasn’t flustered even by Seomun Cheok’s sudden approach, curled her fingertips and extended her arm toward his abdomen. A fight at close range rarely seen in battles with spear wielders.

She doesn’t know what he’s scheming. But in this situation, Seomun Cheok’s movements will also be greatly restricted.

Having finished her calculations, Seohua gathered strength from her shoulder and struck at Seomun Cheok’s stomach. And.

The moment her fist touched Seomun Cheok’s waist.

Seomun Cheok’s waist twisted flexibly like a spear shaft and pushed the fist aside.

“What on earth…”

Until just before, everything went according to calculations. It should have.

‘That movement just now, what the…’

Seohua, who couldn’t understand the phenomenon that occurred in an instant, bit her lip and widened the distance. And watching that, Seomun Cheok raised the corners of his mouth slightly with a cold expression.

“So this is how it feels.”

You can’t win by adding one more path. Two paths only let you endure a few more times. In a situation where you don’t use internal energy, using only one method to achieve victory against two people is naturally not easy.

Right.

It’s difficult to do with one or two additions. Then.

What if you could add dozens of paths at once?

What if you could use your spear like your body, your body like your spear?

“I’ll win today.”

Seomun Cheok took one more step forward.

And immediately after, two spears came rushing.