Chapter 66
Chapter 66: Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven
Composition. Quite literally, the jak of crafting alongside the gok of melody.
Put differently, it was a song fashioned by weaving distinct notes across varying intervals.
It went without saying that Yanghwi had never once studied the musical arts, neither in his past existence nor his present one.
During his wandering days as an itinerant blade, the only times he ever heard music were those rare occasions when he spent good silver at a lavish tavern.
He had never possessed the chance to learn such a craft, nor had he ever felt the slightest inclination to do so.
“Honored Teacher. Why this sudden demand for a melody…?”
“You will naturally arrive at the answer as you weave the tune.”
Pressing for a clearer explanation felt pointless; the Sound Empress was hardly the type to indulge him with answers.
“Yet I have never once composed a tune in my life.”
“I hold no extravagant expectations for a blade-wielder. Provided the notes and pauses unite into a passable song, that shall be ample. You can manage that much, can you not?”
Yanghwi had consistently responded with absolute certainty in the past, but this moment proved an exception.
Formulating a musical piece, of all things.
Hah, this will prove far from simple.
His conviction in his own martial prowess remained unshaken.
He cherished the martial path more deeply than anyone alive, ablaze with the yearning to ascend ever higher.
Yet now, out of nowhere, he was forced to wrestle with music.
“To speak plain truth, I lack the assurance to impress a supreme master who holds the mantle of Wave-Piercing Sound Empress.”
“I place no value on artistic perfection, so cast aside your worries. Now then, I must oversee Seolha’s training.”
Gathering Zhuge Seolha within formless qi, the Sound Empress vanished from sight.
Yanghwi found himself abandoned in an instant.
Craft… a song?
Yanghwi was far from dim-witted. He swiftly comprehended the intent behind her directive.
She intends to steer me toward a breakthrough by fusing the Bee Wing Sound with the principles of sonic arts.
His mind grasped the premise. Intellectually, it made sense.
When it came to putting notes together into an actual piece, however, he was utterly stranded.
Had her demand been to shatter a boulder into dust, he would have rolled back his sleeves with boundless swagger.
Whichever way he viewed it, the fine arts and melodies simply lay outside his domain.
Even so, what alternative remained? His instructor was the revered Wave-Piercing Sound Empress herself; he had to pull off the feat by any means necessary.
Vrrrrm!
The Sound Empress had not even left him an instrument.
Consequently, his only instruments for generating sound were his own throat and the steel in his hand.
He gazed silently at the steel edge vibrating with the rapid hum of insect wings.
A swift, continuous pulsation droning in measured cadence.
“A song. Pitch and cadence. Note and pace.”
In simple terms, a sound endowed with tone, and the structure governing that sound.
A melody.
Should I approach it the way I tackled the Five Halls of Proper Sound?
While passing through the Hall of Sound within the Five Halls of Proper Sound, Yanghwi had struck the suspended metal bars with his edge, timing each blow to his own pulse to elicit a tune.
Because his own heartbeat was the cadence most familiar to him, repeating that approach seemed the most sensible course.
Yet…
Hm. Hmmm. This proves far trickier than anticipated.
Reaching the Bee Wing Sound within the Bee Wing realm was not merely a matter of shaking the steel to evoke a drone.
It demanded unleashing the initial stances of the Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords at blistering speed to give birth to those oscillations.
Furthermore, every individual posture carried its own distinct movement.
I have to align the momentum of these sword stances with the cadence of my own pulse.
Never having ventured into such territory before, the exercise felt completely foreign to him.
Very well. Let us start anew from the very beginning.
The true reason the Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords—a discipline comprised of fifty-four forms—bore the count of one hundred and eight.
It was due to the reality that carving through all fifty-four stances twice within a single breath elicited an unmistakable sword cry.
Naturally, grasping that realm of sheer swiftness remained beyond his present reach.
Instead, he compressed nine stances governing one orientation among the Six Harmonies into the span of a single inhalation.
Vrrrrm!
In uninterrupted sequence, he unleashed the Six Harmonies, calling forth six distinct Bee Wing Sounds.
Right in the midst of that execution, an epiphany struck him.
The oscillations. The tones vary ever so slightly.
To Yanghwi, the Bee Wing Sound had served merely as proof of his realm, never as an element warranting study on its own merits.
It was an underlying truth he had entirely overlooked until this moment.
Depending on the angle of movement, the contours of each posture varied, and the hum resonating from the rapid chain of that motion possessed a minute difference in pitch.
That indicated one thing.
I can produce distinct pitches using the Bee Wing Sound.
With that, the element of pitch was resolved.
All that remained was the cadence—the rhythm.
Should that not be simple enough?
Vrrrrm! Vrrrrm!
Vrrrrm! Vrrrrm! Vrrrrm!
Vrrrrm!
He released six bursts of the Bee Wing Sound across fluctuating intervals.
A rhythm took form that, to an untrained ear, might indeed sound like an intentional melody.
…Was musical creation this effortless?
Could it be that a latent genius for melody resides within me?
An immediate sigh followed hard on the heels of that notion.
“Genius, what utter nonsense.”
A series of erratic, buzzing drones—bzz-bzz, bzz-bzz-bzz, bzz?
There was no universe in which she would accept something so crude.
Such a shallow interpretation could never reflect the Sound Empress’s true purpose.
The reason she refrained from detailing her intent is that she expects me to unravel it through personal enlightenment.
Put plainly, there was a core truth waiting for him to uncover.
“Phew. Let us dismantle this from the foundation once more.”
He posed the fundamental query to his inner self.
What, at its heart, was music?
It was propriety (禮) and music (樂).
The former embodied consummate mastery, while the latter represented a buoyant, rejoicing spirit.
An exquisite mastery dedicated to stirring the mortal spirit through the medium of resonance.
The Sound Empress had instructed him to knit together a tune so his sword craft might ascend.
Toward what purpose had she done so?
The motive behind directing him to mend the flaws in his sword principles through musical structure…
I cannot fathom it.
Lacking any foundational knowledge of songcraft, no answers surfaced.
In that event, he needed to view the puzzle from the opposite perspective.
The unison between blade and resonance.
If sound remained elusive, he would begin with the edge he knew so well.
When the subject turned to the sword, he possessed complete certainty that no living soul could surpass him in debate.
What, fundamentally, was a blade?
An instrument engineered for slaughter?
While its physical purpose might be that, to Yanghwi, the weapon meant vastly more than a mere implement of death.
It was the vehicle meant to forge his towering ambition: establishing the preeminent clan under heaven.
…No…
He descended further into the depths of his own consciousness.
The blade. What does it truly represent to me…?
The sword (劍) manifesting as martial essence (武).
Indeed.
A milestone urging him forward.
A staff supporting his ascent toward greater heights.
That was the essence of the sword to Yanghwi.
And just perhaps, sound held that identical significance for the Sound Empress.
Telling me to craft a melody must mean I am to infuse my blade with resonance.
The obstacle, then, resided in the technique and the execution.
How could he breathe sound into cold steel?
How could he intertwine two paths meant to drive forward and scale the heights?
Back to the beginning.
Song. Pitch combined with rhythm.
Within the realm of martial arts, those matched forms and spacing.
That was precisely why his opening attempt had focused on releasing each Bee Wing Sound across differing pauses.
“…”
It remained inadequate.
Something had to reach deeper, rising to a higher tier.
“Young Hero.”
A clear voice struck his ears, dragging Yanghwi’s deeply immersed consciousness back to the waking world.
Before him stood the Sound Empress alongside Zhuge Seolha.
“Honored Teacher.”
“A full day has run its course. Shall we hear the tune you have fashioned?”
Yanghwi offered an embarrassed grin.
“Only if you swear not to be disappointed.”
Rising to his feet, he stepped directly into a flowing sword dance.
Vrrrrm! Vrrrrm!
Vrrrrm!
Vrrrrm! Vrrrrm! Vrrrrm!
Individual forms linked seamlessly together, weaving a single cohesive dance.
The core mechanics mirrored his initial try, yet the flow carried vastly superior harmony.
Unlike that crude opening draft, this display held undeniable substance.
Even so, it lingered far below his own standards of perfection.
“That marks the limit of my reach. I managed to evoke a tune with the sword, yet I failed to breathe that tune into the sword itself.”
The Empress offered no scolding toward her student.
Instead, a subtle glimmer of wonder surfaced within her gaze.
“Your capacity for enlightenment is truly startling, Young Hero. I provided merely the faintest hint so your thoughts might wander unconstrained, yet to comprehend the path so masterfully—and within a single day’s turning, no less.”
Fortunately, the realization gleaned from his deep contemplation had pointed in the right direction.
“I am grateful for the praise. Yet I could discover no route leading further.”
“So it appears. Nonetheless, the truth remains that you have taken a step forward. Allow me to grant a clue fitting your present threshold.”
The Sound Empress lightly snapped her fingers.
Instantly, a bright melody unfurled through the air.
Chirrr-ling, chiring, chirrr-ling!
A solitary movement of her finger, nothing more.
Yet the resonance persisted, releasing a melody capable of lifting both mind and body in delight through its mere presence.
An utterly unbelievable display.
I bore witness to it before, yet it still fills me with profound reverence.
So this is the realm commanded by one of the Ten Paragons Under Heaven.
If the arts of sound, alien as they are, can achieve such divine unity…
How staggering will it be to behold the transcendent power of someone who attained the Ten Paragons purely through the sword?
“Young Hero. What sounds do you imagine you can generate on your own?”
Rather than answering in speech, he triggered a Bee Wing Sound.
“Six varieties of sword cries. And should another be required, my own voice, perhaps.”
The Sound Empress gently shook her head.
“Is that truly the extent? You can coax countless notes from your weapon alone, Young Hero.”
What manner of method could she mean?
Was she suggesting he saturate the steel with internal energy to generate varied tones?
He tested the notion without delay.
Vooom! Vwooom! Voom-voom!
“That path exists as well. Yet it is not the horizon I wish for you to reach.”
“This unworthy student pleads for guidance.”
The Sound Empress flicked her fingertips thrice.
Without pause, an ever-shifting melody resonated outward.
All three melodies were distinctly unique.
“I can command ten thousand pitches across ten thousand cadences with a mere snap of the hand. You possess the capability to enact the very same feat with your blade, Young Hero. Even at this very second.”
The physical motion had remained uniform, yet the resulting tones and intervals were entirely distinct.
Pure awe and bewilderment gripped him.
It was no subtle manipulation of qi. The volume and refinement of qi bound to every single snap were unquestionably identical.
Blessed with a perception of qi sharper than any other, and with the Sound Empress performing the act openly before him, he held no doubt on that point.
…I am practically touching it. If I stretch just a fraction further, I will grasp it.
He remained short by a hair. The breakthrough eluded him by a mere fingernail’s breadth.
By his own reckoning, the failing stemmed from his shallow grasp of sound principles.
Had his master been a titan of the sword with whom he could clash over martial doctrines, he would never have felt this stranded.
“Ahaha! Young Hero, how I wish you could witness your current expression in a polished mirror. To think a youth constantly overflowing with pride could wear such a face. Would you not agree, Seolha?”
Beside her, Zhuge Seolha curved her lips into a smile as she observed Yanghwi’s posture.
“Indeed, Master! It is wonderful to witness this unfamiliar side of Senior Brother.”
Gently caressing Zhuge Seolha’s hair, the Sound Empress spoke once more.
“Young Hero. Does it feel as though you might perish from sheer irritation?”
He offered an unvarnished response.
“…It does.”
A peerless intellect capable of preserving every scrap of knowledge absorbed since birth without loss.
Inborn martial foundations of supreme caliber, paired with an energy perception keener than that of any living peer.
And crowning all of it, a natural talent for martial arts that grasped a hundred principles upon hearing merely one.
Is this the harsh truth of why humility must be kept?
For the first time across his life, suffocating helplessness settled over him.
He had never conceived of encountering true frustration while seeking enlightenment.
“Because you are plagued by frustration, I could readily lay the answer before you. Yet I am convinced you will soar far higher if you seize it through your own insight. Therefore, I shall assign an alternate task.”
Shifting her gaze, the Sound Empress looked toward a distant area sprawling across the base of the mountain.
“A rogue belonging to the dark path has made his lair in Hyeopha County, bordering Gokyeol Mountain. He has remained an irritation I meant to sweep aside, but I would prefer that you attend to your teacher’s nuisance in my stead, Young Hero.”
In essence, she was sending him to perform the craft he knew best.
Namely, battering an opponent.
Nothing could have suited him better.
His chest had been smoldering with irritation from his stalled comprehension; here lay the flawless opportunity to purge that pent-up anger.
This was the supreme virtue of walking the righteous martial path.
One could unleash fury by pummeling the filth of the dark path while receiving acclaim as an upright champion of righteousness.
“Attending to one’s teacher to alleviate her concerns is the natural duty of a disciple. I shall dispose of him without breaking a sweat.”
He delivered the boast with a fierce, confident smirk.
“Is that so?”
The Sound Empress offered a delicate smile. For reasons unknown, a sharp dread suddenly gripped his heart.
Fwoooosh—
His surrounding vision shifted in a blur.
Before he could process the shift, Yanghwi found himself planted in an abandoned plot near a settlement.
“Remain here a brief moment.”
The silhouette of the Sound Empress dissolved and reassembled within the span of a single heartbeat.
Simultaneously, a martial artist materialized in midair over the clearing, tumbling violently into the earth.
“This is the rogue of the dark path bearing the title Black Killing Sword. Overwhelming him alone will prove taxing, so confront him alongside Seolha.”
“Gah, what under the heavens…?”
Scrambling upright, Black Killing Sword instantly drew his weapon.
Bafflement and shock were stamped across his features.
It was entirely expected, seeing as he had been extorting coin inside a drinking house only to be snatched away to an unknown wasteland by a sudden gale.
“What sort of brats are… Dammit!”
Oh. Look at this fellow, sharp on his feet.
Setting Yanghwi and Zhuge Seolha aside, even the Sound Empress bore the appearance of an ordinary girl of fifteen years.
Even so, Black Killing Sword spun on his heel and fled without hesitation.
He was rigorously observing the age-old rule of the jianghu: maintain extreme caution around women, the aged, and children.
Naturally, the Sound Empress had no intention of letting him slip away.
Chirrr-ling!
“GRAAAH!”
Battered across his frame by a cascading wave of sonic force, Black Killing Sword slammed hard against the dirt.
“Senior Master! What grievance do you hold against me?!”
The Sound Empress offered no gentle explanations to a thug of the dark path.
“Subjugate my disciples if you wish to depart this clearing with your life.”
Black Killing Sword snapped his glare toward Yanghwi and Zhuge Seolha.
A boy and a girl, neither having seen ten winters.
“Remember your promise.”
A bloodthirsty aura erupted from every pore of Black Killing Sword.
Yanghwi realized in an instant that the task laid out by the Sound Empress was far less trivial than he had assumed.
This fellow stands in the first-rate realm?
A second-rate and a third-rate tasked with toppling a first-rate?
He had sensed it ever since surviving the Five Halls of Proper Sound…
The Sound Empress’s approach to cultivating her students was ruthlessly harsh.
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