Chapter 373

Chapter 373
## Chapter 373. The Fluctuating Currents (5)

—

*Crunch, crunch, crunch.*

With every stride I took across the blanket of white snow, a comforting warmth crept up from the soles of my feet. My newly bought footwear was gradually becoming saturated with melted snow, yet I chose not to employ any swift movement techniques. There was a unique pleasure in charting a fresh path across a pristine, untouched field of snow.

The morning sun had risen high into the sky, but the grounds of the Murim Academy remained entirely deserted. The moment of departure from this institution had finally arrived.

“*Dae-sahyung*.”

Emerging from the direction of the four-man living quarters, the trio of brothers—Geum, Eun, and Dong—approached. Sa-ryeon walked alongside them, the group making their way toward me in unison. Eun-ho spoke up, his voice sounding rather hoarse.

“Are you heading to the Thousand Sword Wall (*Cheon-geom-byeok*) at this moment?”

“Indeed. Shouldn’t you all be occupied with your studies? What brought you out here for no reason?”

The heavy, dark shadows under his eyes looked truly pitiable. I remarked that he shouldn’t have volunteered to go to such a grueling place to begin with.

“No matter how swamped I am with work, as a member of the Tae-eul Sect, how could I possibly miss this occasion?”

The young man beamed with a radiant grin despite his exhausted appearance, as though the mere anticipation of the event filled him with delight. I shook my head in amusement. It wasn’t such an extraordinary task; many people simply delegated it to a professional stonemason.

Still, it wasn’t as if I couldn’t comprehend his sentiment. After all, I had walked out here myself to personally execute a task that could have easily been handled by a stonemason.

“We should hurry. The others will be waiting.”

Prompted by Sa-ryeon, I set off once more. We conversed about matters we had bypassed during the hectic period of Pavilion applications and final examinations. In truth, I felt compelled to break the silence because the unusual quiet felt awkward and stifling. It felt as though I was the lone defector, having encouraged my *Saje*s to apply for the White Wolf Pavilion while I remained behind.

However,

“Wait, where exactly are you going?”

I was caught completely off guard by the sudden revelation Dong-ryong shared.

“The Alliance Leader’s Palace (*Maengju-jeon*).”

Had the Alliance Leader’s Palace commenced official recruitment? Moreover, was it even permissible for an ordinary academy student to enter the Alliance Leader’s Palace?

Historically, the Alliance Leader’s Palace rarely sought out fresh recruits. Even when openings arose, they exclusively accepted individuals whose martial prowess, combat experience, and standing within the Jianghu had reached absolute maturity and elite status.

Yet, they were bringing in a student who had barely completed their academy tenure? Given the factional scrutiny from those terrified of the Murim Alliance Leader transforming the entire Murim Alliance into his personal domain, bringing even a single new operative on board was a monumental challenge.

Consequently, one practically needed to be counted among the most celebrated experts in the land just to secure a basic position there. In many respects, gaining entry to the Alliance Leader’s Palace was an even greater feat than entering the Mantong-bu.

The mere rumor of the Alliance Leader’s Palace hiring was astonishing, but learning that Dong-ryong had secured a post there left me utterly stupefied.

“Wh-what are you talking about?”

Geum-pyo, Eun-ho, and Sa-ryeon appeared equally blindsided, their eyes widening in sheer disbelief as they stared at Dong-ryong. It was a relief to know I wasn’t the only one left in the dark. Ignoring our collective bewilderment, Dong-ryong rubbed the back of his neck and muttered softly.

“To be honest, I was intending to turn down the offer, so I didn’t see a reason to bring it up to anyone.”

Had my ears deceived me…? Every single disciple of the Tae-eul Sect froze in unison. To reject an offer? From the Alliance Leader’s Palace itself?

“*Dae-sahyung* and *Sajeo* both declared their intentions to join the White Wolf Pavilion. I had no desire to venture off to another place entirely on my own.”

Faced with such an incredibly casual explanation, we could only gape like a school of carp waiting for breadcrumbs. No matter how many bizarre incidents we had endured, this was on a completely different level.

“Not everyone is going. *Dae-sahyung* was excluded.”

I prepared to counter Sa-ryeon’s blunt interjection, but the sharp, warning look in her eyes forced me to remain silent.

“However, I did inquire if they would agree to a specific demand.”

Yet another wave of astonishment crashed over us.

“…….”

“…….”

speechless.

We exchanged bewildered glances, looking like a row of stone Buddha statues carved into a cavern. Though no words were spoken, our eyes communicated a shared thought: *‘Our youngest martial brother is terrifyingly bold. Imagine bargaining with the Alliance Leader’s Palace.’*

As the quiet stretched on, Dong-ryong nervously twitched his fingers.

“……Did I commit a blunder? I simply assumed *Dae-sahyung* would inevitably demand his own terms under identical circumstances……”

“…….”

For some unfathomable reason, Sa-ryeon directed a piercing glare toward me.

“Why are you looking at me……”

“Are you not aware that you must set a flawless example in front of the younger ones? They mimic everything you do!”

Look, it’s a good thing that the boy is independent and sharp, so why direct your frustration at me? Nevertheless, sensing that she would immediately bring up my failure to enter the White Wolf Pavilion if I pushed the issue, I swiftly steered the conversation elsewhere.

“So, what exactly did you demand? I assume it wasn’t a request for wealth…… or something of that nature?”

If he had asked for money, I think I would have died of sheer mortification right then and there.

“Specialized instruction.”

“Pardon?”

“I requested that they provide me with exclusive, private tutoring.”

“…….”

Dong-ryong’s posture slumped slightly.

“My experiences in Muk-rim made me realize something. I am still nowhere near capable of standing as an equal helper to *Dae-sahyung*. In fact, I feared that if I remained at this level, I would be a burden to *Dae-sahyung* for the rest of my days. That is precisely why I asked for…… ah.”

Without warning, Sa-ryeon stepped forward and pulled Dong-ryong into a fierce embrace. Though Dong-ryong had shot up in height significantly, Sa-ryeon cradled him as though he were still the small child of the group, and Dong-ryong obligingly bent his knees to accommodate her stature.

“No, Dong-ryong. You are performing exceptionally well. In truth, we survived and succeeded in Muk-rim largely due to your immense contributions.”

Dong-ryong, who had briefly rested his face against Sa-ryeon’s shoulder, raised his gaze to look back at us.

“I will push myself harder. For my own growth, and for the sake of all my martial siblings.”

Hearing Dong-ryong’s fierce dedication, a collective warmth spread through the disciples, and soft smiles graced our faces. Every one of us had come to understand a profound reality. As the *Dae-sahyung*, I looked upon them and spoke with deep conviction.

“Indeed, my brothers and sister. What does it matter which path we tread or which doors remain shut? In the grand scheme of things, as long as we protect and cherish one another……”

“The individual who ran away from the group on his own should remain quiet.”

“Ah! My apologies.”

A total failure of a speech.

Sa-ryeon, who had been fixing me with a severe look, gradually relaxed her expression. She tapped Dong-ryong’s shoulder approvingly, leaving the young man scratching his head in sheer bashfulness. A touching, familial warmth enveloped the group—entirely bypassing me, of course.

“Still, I am curious as to who will take charge of this specialized training. It isn’t as though the Alliance Leader’s Palace maintains a dedicated instructional department.”

Eun-ho tilted his head, pondering the logistical oddity, but Geum-pyo immediately slapped his shoulder to dismiss the unnecessary worry.

“Come now, considering the sheer volume of grandmasters residing within those walls, do you truly believe they couldn’t spare someone to guide a talent like Dong-ryong?”

“But those masters all belong to their respective lineages and clans…… they cannot simply impart secret arts to an outsider without severe repercussions.”

“That is a fair point……”

“Hmm, setting aside those masters, that leaves the elite personal guard…… do you honestly believe a vanguard commander would step away from their duties to instruct Dong-ryong?”

Sensing the validity of the problem, Geum-pyo turned his attention back to the youth.

“Dong-ryong, did they specify exactly who your mentor would be?”

Dong-ryong shook his head horizontally.

“No, I explicitly informed them that there was a specific individual from whom I wished to receive instruction. Fortunately, they granted their full consent.”

“What?”

“What?”

“What?”

The disciples of the Tae-eul Sect turned their heads in absolute unison. Filled with intense curiosity, I wondered if there was a hidden master within the Alliance Leader’s Palace with whom Dong-ryong shared a prior connection.

“Who is this person?”

Dong-ryong offered a beaming response, showcasing his signature, innocent grin.

“The Murim Alliance Leader.”

“…… suicide.”

I found myself entirely stripped of speech.

“Uh…… well…… that is……”

My cognitive faculties ground to a complete halt as I stared blankly at my *Saje*s. Witnessing everyone standing frozen with eyes threatened to burst from their sockets, it was clear my ears hadn’t played a trick on me.

—

“What are you all loitering here for?”

The sudden, crisp voice of Seong-mo-ran shattered our collective trance, dragging us back to reality.

“Why haven’t you moved? Shouldn’t you already be gathered at the Thousand Sword Wall (*Cheon-geom-byeok*)?”

“……Ah, well…… we were just blindsided by some rather earth-shattering information……. Setting that aside, Lady Seong, what brings you out here?”

“Nothing of note…… I simply found myself with idle time. So I decided to take a stroll.”

For the martial artists of the Tae-eul Sect, the fact that I, their *Dae-sahyung*, was proceeding to the Thousand Sword Wall was a matter of supreme collective honor. For students from rival factions, however, it was hardly an event to celebrate, yet here she was claiming she had nothing better to do.

“Is it just me, or is our particular graduating class a bit eccentric? *Hyung-nim*.”

Stepping out from behind Seong-mo-ran, Moyong-jae-hwa approached with a bow slung over his shoulder, accompanied by Eun-seol-ran. Microscopic beads of perspiration dotted Moyong-jae-hwa’s brow, indicating he had just concluded an intense archery session.

“You two as well?”

“……Was our presence perhaps unsolicited?”

“No, it isn’t that, but……”

Jang-wu-jae, who was trailing behind the newcomers, suddenly froze mid-stride, looking entirely conflicted and uncertain of how to proceed. Nor was he the final arrival. As our procession advanced toward the Thousand Sword Wall, our numbers swelled continuously. Namgung-seon-hwa, Il-gak, Cheol-sun-jik, Nam-hwa-seong, and numerous others joined the fray. With every dozen paces we took, the crowd expanded further and further.

“Why in heaven’s name have all of you decided to tag along?”

When I knit my brows in irritation, the gathered academy students immediately gestured with downward thumbs.

“Hmph, because this marks a day of profound humiliation. I refuse to let today’s loss fade from my memory.”

“They say a true warrior’s retribution is never late, even if delayed by a decade. I intend to bear witness to today’s proceedings with my own eyes, using it as fuel for my own future triumph through *Wasin-sangdam*. Mark my words.”

“I merely walked over because my schedule was clear.”

In truth, every single one of them must have been dying of sheer boredom. However, given that this ritual was by no means a classified affair, it felt inappropriate to bar them from attending, so I simply permitted the entourage to follow. Before long, we arrived at the Thousand Sword Wall, tucked away in the most secluded, sacred depths of the Murim Academy.

“Representative Jin……?”

The waiting administrators and stone artisans tilted their heads in surprise. A remarkably massive crowd had assembled to watch.

“This is an unprecedented sight for me. I had always been told that the people of the Jianghu harbored deep envy toward one another.”

I nodded in agreement with the artisan’s observation. Had I been in these students’ shoes, the sheer bitterness would have left me unable to swallow food for three days straight.

“Representative Jin-so-un.”

A waiting administrator stepped forward to usher me forward.

“Please step this way.”

The official escorted me toward a specific section of the stone cliff face. Upon the rock, a series of characters that appeared newly chiseled stood out sharply.

*Murim (武林) Seventy-first Generation (七十一代).*

*■■ led.*

The administrator gestured toward the blank, uncarved stone space.

*“The space allotted is somewhat confined. You may leave your mark here.”*

When I cast my gaze directly above the designated spot, an identical phrase was carved, save for a single crucial modification.

*Murim (武林) Seventieth Generation (七十代).*

*Wudang (武當) led.*

Row upon row of identical declarations, varying only by the name of the victorious clan, covered the stone face in dense arrays. I raised my palm, gently running my fingertips across the carved words. These were the enduring chronicles that ran parallel to the very lifespan of the Murim Academy.

It had originated generations ago as something a student of the premier class had initiated almost as a playful gesture. The Academy Representative of the second generation had chosen to mirror the act. The leaders of the third and fourth iterations found merit in the concept as well, continuing to slice their names into the stone, thereby birthing a tradition exclusive to the student body upon this hidden cliff face deep within the Academy.

Over the sweeping decades spanning the tenth and twentieth generations, that simple tradition transformed into an ultimate badge of honor for graduating scholars. By the arrival of the fortieth generation, the reigning Murim Alliance Leader of that era formally christened the site as the Thousand Sword Wall (*Cheon-geom-byeok*), cementing it as a core institutional ceremony.

The name Thousand Sword Wall (*Cheon-geom-byeok*) signified the ultimate goal of carving a thousand individual triumphs. Yet, in my past life, contrary to its grand title, the lineage had abruptly fractured and concluded with the seventy-first generation. Until the catastrophic fall of the Murim Academy, the inscriptions upon this cliff served as a glorious testament for the alumni and a fountain of prestige for the sects that claimed the honor.

Lifting my gaze, I examined the primordial inscription that started it all. Characters engraved with noticeably grander proportions than the rest arrested my attention.

*Murim (武林) First Generation (一代).*

*Shaolin led.*

Completing one’s journey at the Murim Academy did not literally translate to ruling the entire martial world, but it stood as a powerful emblem. It was a testament to the trajectory of that specific generation’s elite. After all, history confirmed that the factions immortalized on this stone invariably spearheaded the prosperity of their respective eras.

Following that first entry, names like ‘Wudang,’ ‘Jeomchang,’ and ‘Huashan’ dotted the cliff face. The vast majority represented the Nine Sects and One Gang, followed closely by the Five Great Clans. Interspersed among them were the lineages of the 108 Peaks. Fascinatingly, a handful of names belonged to organizations that had long since collapsed into ruin. Though they had vanished from the living Jianghu and faded entirely from common lore, their stark engravings upon the Thousand Sword Wall remained as irrefutable proof that they had once shaken the world.

And

“…….”

Staring up at these historical markers, a profound, solemn nostalgia settled over the soul. The burning desire of every student who ever walked through these academy gates to leave their mark here was rooted in this very sight. I was no exception. In the fragments of my past life’s recollections, this chronicle—which initiated with Shaolin and concluded under Shaolin’s banner—had been the singular obsession driving my pursuit of the representative title from the very instant I stepped onto these grounds.

As I stood locked in contemplative silence before the stone canvas, voices disrupted my thoughts.

“What is taking so long? I am practically freezing to death out here.”

“He is clearly intimidated because the target area is so narrow. If his blade slips, it will be an absolute mockery.”

“They say a warrior’s foundational enlightenment is mirrored entirely within their blade’s trajectory; is he terrified that a clumsy, undisciplined style will be exposed to the world?”

“Knowing him, that is highly within the realm of possibility, bahahaha!”

I ground my molars together as the mindless jeering shattered my reflective mood. I whirled around aggressively, fully prepared to scatter the hecklers with a volley of scathing curses.

“…… Oasis.”

Yet, I froze. There were several academy students staring up at the Thousand Sword Wall with profoundly complicated, unreadable expressions.

“I spent my entire tenure scheming to topple Jin-so-un by any means necessary.”

“Likewise. I honestly believed my chest would rupture from pure bitterness if I had to stand here and watch this finale.”

At that precise juncture,

“But when you truly think about it……”

A student who had been tracking the contours of the cliff with a distant, spellbound gaze spoke in a hushed whisper.

“Has there ever been an era where that single word ‘led’ rang with more absolute, undeniable truth than it does with our current champion?”

Not a single soul offered a rebuttal. Those whispered words struck deep, imprinting themselves onto my very soul. The gathered martial artists continued to trace the lines of the cliff face, over and over without end. Seeing that everyone had plunged into their own private reflections, I refrained from breaking the silence. I felt a quiet wave of appreciation for the fact that they had braved the biting cold just to accompany me to the end.

Turning my torso back around, I squared my shoulders against the cliff face once more.

*Ching.*

The Red Light Sword slid cleanly from its scabbard. The attendant scholar quickly stepped back to clear my path. In the next breath, I began to systematically channel the core energies of the Tae-eul True Scripture. Because this act lacked any intent of violence or slaughter, my internal state achieved a level of tranquil equilibrium greater than any I had known before.

My arm executed the motion. It was neither sluggish nor excessively hurried. The cuts were neither overly deep nor dangerously superficial. I infused the stroke with the original spirit of our founding patriarch from five centuries ago, balanced perfectly with my own ironclad vow to shatter and reshape the coming destiny. I poured in the fervent hope that this chronicle would not mark the absolute end, carving a legacy entirely distinct from my tragic past life.

*Shhh, shhh, shhh.*

Finely ground stone powder drifted through the crisp air as the inscription slowly manifested. It was forged through a blade technique that eschewed gaudy embellishment while maintaining flawless, razor-sharp precision.

*Slide.*

The instant my weapon returned to its sheath,

“Oh!”

Stifled gasps of admiration rippled through the spectators. I lifted my head by slow degrees, burning the newly formed words deeply into the chambers of my memory.

*Murim (武林) Seventy-first Generation (七十一代).*

*Tae-eul (太乙) led.*

It stood proud—the inaugural appearance of that name across seventy-one generations of historical triumph.