Chapter v18c11

“Where is that guy at a time like this?”

The Sword Empress decided it was dangerous to leave Na Ye-Rin alone like this.

“Who are you?”

She asked.

“I am your disciple.”

Na Ye-Rin replied.

“Then who are you, besides being my disciple?”

The Sword Empress asked again.

“I am a student of Cheonmu Academy.”

The Sword Empress pressed further.

“Who are you, besides being a student of Cheonmu Academy?”

Na Ye-Rin thought for a moment, and then answered.

“…I am the daughter of Murim Alliance Leader Na Baek-Cheon.”

“That is also merely a relationship you have, not who you are. In that relationship, there is Na Baek-Cheon, the Murim Alliance Leader, but there is no Na Ye-Rin.”

The father had a name, but the daughter didn’t. The Sword Empress paused, and then continued.

“Don’t try to define yourself through others. How can you see your reflection in a mirror before you even exist? Who are you, besides being my disciple, a student of the Sword Pavilion, a student of Cheonmu Academy, or the daughter of Na Baek-Cheon? Are you nothing without these relationships? Does your reflection exist because of the mirror, or does the mirror reflect you because you exist? Who are you?”

It was a powerful question. Na Ye-Rin had to answer it.

‘Who am I?’

It was a difficult task for someone who had been trained to define herself through relationships, to strip away all those connections.

‘Who am I? What am I? How did I come to exist? No, how is “me” defined? Can I exist as “me” even without all the relationships that define me?’

Then, a voice echoed in her mind. It was a voice from a distant memory.

“How can you be so sure of yourself? Well… I guess it’s because I believe in myself. I might not look like it, but I have a lot of faith in myself. Only you can decide who you are. In this relative world, the creative act of defining oneself is a right bestowed upon humans, not upon Heaven or the gods. Relationships are just a bonus, something that comes after you exist. They’re merely a tool for experiencing differences, nothing more, nothing less. Family, organizations, nations, they’re all just fields of relationships, they don’t exist before you. No matter how much others try to shape or define you, ultimately, only you can decide who you are. To shirk that responsibility is not only to abandon your rights, but also to deny your very existence. In that moment, you become a prisoner of your own freedom, a puppet dancing to someone else’s tune.”

“Then how do I find myself? How do I recover the self I’ve lost…?”

“You can’t lose yourself. You’re just forgetting who you truly are. Wouldn’t it be creepy if everyone around you had the same face? The same face everywhere you look. The same clothes, the same way of thinking, the same way of speaking… Ugh, just thinking about it makes me sick. We’re all born with a kind of amnesia. Don’t you want to know who you were before you lost your memories?”

“Then how do I wake up from this dream? From this amnesia?”

“There are countless ways… but the easiest way is to set a real goal. You have to choose something. That’s the beginning.”

“A goal?”

“Yes, a goal. Not some mundane goal like joining a fancy organization, collecting a paycheck until you die without getting your head chopped off. The important thing is to discover what you truly desire. Then, the goal will naturally emerge. Once you have a goal, you can decide what path to take to achieve it. There are millions, no, an infinite number of mountains called possibilities in this world. Don’t you think you need to decide which mountain to climb before you can find the specific path to reach its summit? Wouldn’t it be embarrassing to climb a mountain for decades, only to reach the top and realize, ‘Oops, wrong mountain!’?”

“That’s true. Then is Ryu-Yeon so obsessed with money because his goal is to become rich?”

“Well? What do you think? There are quite a lot of people climbing the mountain of wealth, so it’s a bit crowded. But most of them pretend they’re not. Well, most people are content with climbing small hills, so there are plenty of unexplored territories. Don’t you think choosing which mountain to climb, and then actually climbing it, is the first step to finding your true self?”

“The first step? So there are more steps?”

“Of course. That’s why I said it was the easiest way. There are several more steps, but I haven’t climbed them all yet. It seems like there’s no end to this journey.”

And then, the unforgettable final question.

“What mountain do you want to climb, Ye-Rin?”

“I…”

Those were the words she had exchanged with Bi Ryu-Yeon. What had she answered back then?

She remembered.

“My name is Na Ye-Rin, and I am a swordsman pursuing the path of the sword as a member of the martial world. And I am a woman.”

The Sword Empress was surprised by her disciple’s clear answer. It wasn’t the content itself, but the conviction in her voice, a self-assurance she hadn’t seen before. However, it was unclear whether “a woman” meant she accepted her womanhood without resentment, or whether it meant she was someone’s woman. But the Sword Empress didn’t pry.

‘Let’s save that for later.’

“So you agree to live as a swordsman in this martial world?”

“Yes, Master. I hate bloodshed, but I enjoy pursuing the principles of the sword. I think I love the sword more than I realized. It’s hard to imagine myself without it, without practicing swordsmanship.”

Na Ye-Rin’s answer touched her master’s heart, bringing tears to her eyes. But she didn’t show it.

“Then what can you do now? As a swordsman, there are things you can do besides wallowing in sadness.”

There was only one thing a swordsman pursuing the path of the sword could do.

“Shall we have a little spar? It’s been a while.”

The Sword Empress smiled, tapping her beloved sword.

“W-with you, Master?”

“Yes. I want to see how much you’ve improved. I didn’t get a chance to see you in action at Mount Hua, thanks to that guy.”

She wanted to witness her disciple’s progress firsthand, as her master and as a fellow swordsman. It seemed like a harmless indulgence.

“I accept your challenge.”

“Of course. There’s no need for modesty at a time like this.”

Na Ye-Rin drew her sword. The Sword Empress’s sword remained sheathed. But it was still terrifying. Whether it was sheathed, drawn, or even nonexistent, it made no difference to a master like her. Na Ye-Rin knew better than anyone how fast her master’s sword drawing technique was.

“Come at me!”

Na Ye-Rin remained motionless, her sword held in a ready stance. She knew that attacking a master like the Sword Empress head-on was suicidal. Impatience was a poison in this fight. She watched her master with calm eyes.

They were both swordsmen now. There was no need for courtesy.

All she had to do was fight with all her might and prove her existence.

‘I see…’

The Sword Empress’s eyes glinted with interest. Had she regained some of her lost self? Her disciple’s stance was much more stable than before. It was always a joy for a master to witness her disciple’s growth.

But change was impossible in a state of perfect balance. The Sword Empress deliberately created an opening in her stance.

“…!”

It was a blatant provocation, an invitation to attack. And a test.

A disciple of the Sword Empress should know how to respond to such a provocation. If she became too complacent, she would face her master’s wrath. But she couldn’t help but hesitate.

For a master like the Sword Empress, an opening was like the moon: visible, but unattainable. Yet, its very visibility was a temptation. Whether Na Ye-Rin understood this or not didn’t matter. It was better to have a target than none at all. She lunged, reaching for the moon with all her might. It was the first technique of the Crimson Phoenix Swordsmanship: Crimson Phoenix Descends. It wasn’t flashy, but it was fast, precise, and easy to recover from if it failed. Her opponent was the greatest female swordsman. She didn’t expect to win with a single strike. But she was wrong.

Thud!

Her sword pierced the Sword Empress’s heart. Na Ye-Rin’s eyes widened in shock. She had expected her master to dodge, and had already planned her next five moves. But this… this was unexpected. Even her Dragon Eyes hadn’t foreseen this.

But her shock was premature. The next moment, the Sword Empress’s figure dissolved before her eyes, like snowflakes scattering in the wind.

“Where are you looking?”

The Sword Empress’s gentle voice came from behind her. She had somehow moved behind her disciple and was whispering in her ear. Na Ye-Rin whirled around, speechless with surprise.

The Sword Empress was pleased to see a look of bewilderment on her usually stoic disciple’s face.

“It’s called the Flying Snow Step. It’s named after the way it resembles falling snow. I named it myself, actually. I created it, so I get to name it.”

“Flying Snow Step…”

Na Ye-Rin repeated the name, savoring its sound. It felt right.

“Yes, it’s much more elegant than something like the Ghost Step, don’t you think? It maximizes the effect of afterimages. You know the difference between a clone and an afterimage, right?”

“Yes, Master. But I don’t think afterimages alone can create such an effect.”

The Sword Empress grinned at her disciple’s sharp observation.

“Your eyes are indeed sharp. I wasn’t going to reveal this secret, but I suppose I have no choice. It’s actually a combination of a clone and afterimages. It creates afterimages on both sides, confusing the optic nerves and making it look like I’m disappearing like a mirage. Even your bodyguard hasn’t learned this technique yet.”

“A technique that Dok-Go Ryeong hasn’t learned…”

And she was about to teach it to her. Na Ye-Rin looked at her master and said,

“Then I can’t learn it either. How can I learn something before my bodyguard?”

“You are worthy of learning this technique. That’s why I’m teaching it to you. Of course, Ryeong is also worthy. But she’s not here, is she?”

“B-but…”

The Sword Empress raised her hand, silencing her.

“A large ship needs a deep body of water to float, and the Peng bird needs a ninety-thousand-li thick wind to soar through the heavens. Without a deep body of water, the ship can’t carry its load, and without a strong wind, the Peng bird can’t fly. Without accumulated effort, you’ll be powerless. If you truly want to save Ryeong, you need to build your strength so you can answer her call when she needs you. You don’t want to be in a situation where you want to fly, but can’t, do you?”

Her voice was soft, but her words carried the weight of a thousand pounds. And they were part of an ancient tradition, passed down for thousands of years.

“Learn it. It can’t hurt. And who knows when you might need it? You have to be prepared. Time waits for no one. Only those who are prepared can seize the moment as it flies by. This technique might be useful in helping Ryeong. If she’s ever in danger, in a situation where she can’t escape on her own, you’ll need more than just good intentions to save her, won’t you? So learn it, master it. Humility isn’t always a virtue.”

“My thoughts were shallow, Master. Please teach me.”

Na Ye-Rin bowed respectfully. The Sword Empress smiled, pleased to see her disciple acknowledge her mistake and eager to learn.

“By the way, there’s something I’m curious about.”

“Ask away.”

Na Ye-Rin replied politely.

“That… boy. Bi Ryu-Yeon, was it?”

“…!”

Na Ye-Rin’s body visibly stiffened. The Sword Empress found it amusing.

‘To think a mere name could shake her so much… something even I couldn’t achieve…’

He was the only one who had accomplished this impossible feat, melting the ice around her heart.

The more she learned about him, the more curious she became.

“Do you know anything about his sect?”

Na Ye-Rin shook her head.

“No, Master. I only know that he’s from Sichuan.”

‘Sichuan…’

That was too broad. There were countless sects in Sichuan.

“Don’t you worry about the difference in your social status? It might become a problem later.”

“L-later?”

Na Ye-Rin was flustered by the sudden mention of an unexpected future.

“You haven’t even thought about it? Other girls your age would be married by now…”

A heavy weight settled in her chest.

“I-I’ve never thought about that. And I don’t plan to anytime soon. Marriage? That’s absurd.”

Marriage… It was a word she had never associated with her life, her future. The thought of marrying someone had never crossed her mind. It was a word that didn’t exist in her vocabulary.

“Then you should start thinking about it. It’s always good to be prepared.”

The proverb didn’t quite apply, but she didn’t argue. She was a well-mannered disciple.

“Life is full of surprises. It’s unpredictable and diverse. So, you’ll have to face this issue eventually. Anyway, about his social status…”

The Sword Empress, having successfully shaken her disciple’s composure, returned to her original question.

“Ryu-Yeon wouldn’t care about such things.”

Na Ye-Rin’s answer surprised her master twice. First, by its certainty, and second, by its phrasing.

‘To think she would speak a man’s name so casually…’

Knowing her past, her surprise was even greater. She had only meant to tease her, but perhaps something truly unprecedented was about to happen. What should her stance be? The Sword Empress pondered seriously.

“He might not care, but what about your father?”

“Even if my father objects, he won’t care. That’s the kind of person he is.”

“Oh? Is he that capable? Powerful enough to defy the Murim Alliance Leader?”

“That’s the kind of person he is. He doesn’t care about social status.”

The Sword Empress sighed at her disciple’s unwavering faith.

“I can’t tell if this is blind trust or resignation. This might become quite troublesome. Your father might let it slide, but your mother won’t.”

Na Ye-Rin’s mother was very particular about such things. Even if they didn’t care, societal norms wouldn’t simply disappear.

“I might have unintentionally endorsed your relationship at Mount Hua, but I’m not sure if my endorsement will hold any weight with your mother.”

The rumor of her endorsement would undoubtedly spread throughout Jianghu like wildfire, and it would eventually reach Na Baek-Cheon and his wife. Na Baek-Cheon would have to brace himself for his wife’s fiery wrath.

“Your doting father might not object, out of respect for me. But your mother won’t. She’s always been strict about such things. And she’s your mother. She has every right to be involved in your future. I might be your master, but I can’t usurp her role.”

If Bi Ryu-Yeon were here, he would have interjected, arguing that to dictate a child’s future without trusting their judgment was to lead them towards unhappiness, not happiness. To clip the wings of a fledgling trying to leave the nest was to deny them the opportunity to strengthen their wings, leaving them vulnerable to the harsh winds that would inevitably break them. But Na Ye-Rin didn’t say anything.

“That’s a distant concern, Master.”

“We’ll see. Time will tell. The arrow of time never stops, which is both its strength and its weakness. It creeps up on you, silently and relentlessly. Anyway, what’s that guy up to these days? I haven’t seen him around. I wanted to have a little chat with him, but I haven’t had the chance.”

She unconsciously stroked her beloved sword. It seemed that the white object hanging from her unusually youthful and slender waist was related to the “chat” she had in mind.

“I heard he’s busy with his disciples. He’s giving them some intensive training.”

“Disciples? At his age?”

“That’s what I heard. It’s like playing house.”

She didn’t know the details, and she wasn’t the type to pry. She had always been indifferent to the affairs of others. That was why she was often described as a cold, sharp blade. Beautiful, but deadly.

“Playing house? Did he pick up some stray children?”

If Bi Ryu-Yeon were here, he might have replied, “Something like that.”