Chapter 8: Conclusion. Check. Calling. (Finalized)

By the time the sun had fully risen, the disciples were all sprawled across the ground, completely exhausted.

Well, none of them managed to land a hit on me, but still—there were a few attacks that genuinely caught me off guard.

Faster reactions than expected, sharper ambushes, and a clear sense for finding openings—these were things that clearly set them apart from before.

I stood for a while, quietly looking down at them, and before I knew it, a small laugh escaped me.

My body still felt light, and with one deep breath, I could feel the tension of the battle quickly fade away.

‘Still, I feel refreshed.’

It had been a long time.

Since I’d swung my sword this seriously, with all my heart.

Sure, I practiced swordsmanship every day.

But how often had I truly fought the disciples with sincerity like this?

I had taken a step back, thinking it was part of being a teacher.

But those kids—they had grown strong.

Before I knew it, a gentle breeze stirred the dust on the training ground.

The sound of the disciples’ ragged breathing filled the space, still damp with sweat.

They were completely worn out.

Understandable—not a single moment of rest since dawn.

I slowly sheathed my sword.

The light, satisfying sensation of it sliding into place filled me with contentment.

My body and mind both felt refreshed.

Seeing their skills with my own eyes had eased much of the unease I’d been holding inside.

“Now I finally understand.”

The words slipped from my mouth without thinking.

Still lying flat on the ground, the disciples looked up at me.

Their faces were marked with fatigue, but faint smiles tugged at their lips.

I slowly looked at each of them and began to speak.

“Seorin. There’s too much force in your sword. I’m not denying the path you’ve chosen, but remember—swordsmanship is meant to flow gently. It’s not about crushing with power.”

Seorin nodded as she caught her breath.

She looked exhausted, but her eyes remained steady.

Next, I turned to Chohee.

“Chohee, you focused too much on hiding. What matters more than being unseen
is appearing at the moment you choose. You need to train more in how to seize the right opportunity.”

Chohee kept her lips tightly shut.

Her expression showed a hint of regret, but she gave a quiet nod.

“Hwaran.”

I looked at her and continued.

“Your use of inner strength was excellent. But if you take too long to gather it,
you might miss the right moment. Try developing a way to strike shorter and more sharply.”

Hwaran closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

She looked too drained to move, but it was clear my words had taken root in her heart.

Finally, I turned to Sowol.

“Sowol. It’s great to have so much power, but sometimes, you need to know how to let go of it. You tend to charge straight ahead— try approaching from more varied angles.”

Still lying on the ground.

Sowol grinned and raised her thumb with great effort.

“Yes, sir!!”

I looked over each of them again and let out a small chuckle.

“You all did well. That’s enough for today.”

Though the disciples were still sprawled across the ground, a faint sense of relief spread at my words.

And with that, the morning sparring session came to an end.

The morning sunlight gently shone down on the training hall.

After the sparring ended, the disciples slowly began to rise, one by one.

Fatigue weighed heavily on their bodies, but inside, emotions still swirled like a storm.

Seorin was the first to leave the training hall.

She wiped the sweat from her face and hands, quietly catching her breath.

Though she silently took the lead, her gaze wasn’t fixed ahead—it lingered on the spot where her teacher had stood.

The moment they had crossed swords just a short while ago kept replaying in her mind.

“Sa-jeo Seorin, don’t rush so much.”

Chohee appeared beside Seorin with a playful smile.

But her eyes were anything but lighthearted.

Chohee believed she was the one her teacher trusted most.

That she was the one who could stay by his side and support him more than anyone else.

And yet in today’s sparring match, the first to clash swords with Teacher had been Seorin.

Seorin gave a short nod—but walked a step ahead, as if to say, “I go first.”

Behind them, Hwaran followed.

Quietly, with steady, unwavering steps, she trailed behind the two.

She was always one of few words, but throughout the entire sparring match, she hadn’t missed a single movement of her teacher’s sword—nor a single word he said.

She had been analyzing every motion, every correction, measuring just how much she needed to grow.

She could feel the gazes of her fellow Sa-maes.

She knew she was one of the later starters.

But that didn’t mean she thought she was falling behind.

If her inner strength deepened enough, then in the end, she believed she’d be the one to remain by Teacher’s side the longest.

Sowol swung her arms wide and grinned.

“Ah, you’re all way too serious! Wasn’t today’s sparring super fun?”

At that, Chohee raised an eyebrow.

“Fun? Did you get hit so hard you lost your mind?”

Sowol burst out laughing, completely unfazed.

But even she—deep down—could feel the undercurrent of competition.

It wasn’t that she lacked strength.

If anything, she possessed a stronger body than anyone else.

But in terms of martial arts, she still had a long way to go.

Even so, she didn’t think she was falling behind.

“Well, either way, I’m clearly the one Teacher cherishes the most~”

Sowol tossed out the words playfully—but in that moment, the atmosphere subtly shifted.

Seorin stopped in her tracks, Chohee narrowed her eyes, and Hwaran quietly drew in a breath.

Seorin was the first to speak.

“Being cherished and being acknowledged are two different things. Think about who exchanged swords with Teacher the longest during today’s sparring.”

Chohee shot back instantly.

“Swordplay isn’t everything in martial arts, Sa-jeo Seorin. I’m the one who’s learned how to catch Teacher off guard. Striking from the shadows at the perfect moment—
isn’t that what real trust looks like?”

Hwaran walked on without saying a word.

She wasn’t one to enjoy verbal sparring, but inwardly, she was quietly thinking:

‘In the end, the one who remains by Teacher’s side the longest… will be me.’

The four disciples each received their teacher’s guidance in different ways,
for different reasons.

But one thing was the same for all of them.

They acknowledged one another.

And at the same time, they refused to concede.

The one who stood closest to their teacher—the one who received his teachings most directly—had to be them.

The disciples returned to the training hall after washing up by the stream.

With their collars straightened and hair tidied, they looked much more composed.

The fatigue from the early morning sparring seemed to have lifted somewhat.

As always, I prepared the breakfast table myself.

In the span of one sigan, a neat spread of rice and side dishes came together one by one.

The disciples sat at their respective places, quietly waiting.

“Alright, everyone—eat up.”

Before I’d even finished speaking, the disciples naturally reached for their chopsticks.

But in that moment, a curious tension filled the air.

Seorin quietly picked up a small side dish plate and placed it in front of me.

“Master, please eat.”

She smoothly picked up a piece of fish and placed it on top of my rice bowl.

“Hehe, thank you, Seorin.”

I let out a soft chuckle and picked up my chopsticks—but strangely, there was something unusual in the atmosphere among the disciples.

“Master! This namul tastes even better!”

Chohee quickly reached out with her chopsticks and placed the seasoned greens onto my rice bowl.

She smiled as she threw a quick glance at Seorin.

Seorin didn’t change her expression and quietly set down her chopsticks, but her gaze shifted ever so slightly.

“Master, still—you should eat some meat too.”

Hwaran, usually the quietest one, placed a piece of meat gently on top of my spoon.

Though she was typically reserved, there was something oddly forward about her today.

Sowol gave a little snort through her nose, then eagerly picked up her own chopsticks.

“Master! Take mine too!”

One side dish after another began to pile up in front of me.

I laughed heartily and raised my spoon.

“At this rate, my rice bowl’s going to be full.”

With a satisfied smile, I took a bite.

“Truly, thank you, all of you.”

But then, I suddenly noticed how quiet they had all become.

When I lifted my gaze slightly, I saw the four disciples glancing at each other out of the corners of their eyes—each trying to appear casual.

Chohee was smiling with ease, but her chopsticks moved with sharp precision.

Seorin added another side dish in silence, steadily watching me as she did.

Hwaran maintained a calm expression without a word, yet her hand didn’t stop moving.

Sowol was still grinning brightly, but she, too, was strangely assertive in offering more food.

I let out another hearty laugh and took another bite.

“You’re all working so hard. To be looked after this much—what a joy it is to be your teacher.”

The disciples remained silent, but kept placing more and more side dishes in front of me.

And so, breakfast continued— in a warm, if slightly competitive, atmosphere.

Just as we finished eating and the disciples were starting to clear the table,
a disciple from the main sect arrived.

His uniform was neatly tied without a single crease, and though he wasn’t large in stature, his presence was far from ordinary.

It seemed he had run from a distance—he exhaled heavily and bowed deeply.

“Zhangmun Sa-hyeong requests your presence.”

I raised an eyebrow slightly.

The flow of his energy was solid—the kind you’d expect from someone who had refined their inner strength for many years.

‘This one’s no amateur.’

Though he looked a little tired, his posture and balance were flawless.

‘Is this the disciple who’s said to be among the top of his generation?’

Seorin glanced at him briefly.

She quickly turned her gaze away, but her expression betrayed a faint sense of awareness.

‘If Seorin were to face him… that would be quite a match to watch.’

I nodded and replied calmly.

“Understood. I’ll head there shortly.”

It had been years since Zhangmun Sa-hyeong last summoned me.

Hmm.

Well, it probably wasn’t anything too serious.