Embracing The White Moon (4)

“Haap! Haap!”

The lively shouts rang out clear and bright.

Though their fatigue was evident, each cry carried spirit. It showed how fully immersed they were in training.

From the second-floor window overlooking the training grounds, Seol Hong-baek’s face bore both satisfaction and a faint unease.

‘They follow well.’

He had personally handed swords to each one and taught them how to swing.

It was not just them. He had corrected the stances of everyone in the clan who could wield a sword.

It was his nature, but there was another reason as well.

He knew what most of the swordsmen who had joined the White Sword Seol Clan desired.

But Seol Hong-baek lacked the ability to grant them those dreams.

He had never thought himself lacking in talent. He knew the virtue of humility, but he wasn’t foolish enough to undervalue himself.

That was why he felt guilty. That his own limits might hold back those who had talent.

‘I am truly ashamed.’

Since becoming Patriarch ten years ago, unlike his predecessors, he hadn’t stopped warriors from leaving. He had sent them off freely.

So he earned a reputation for generosity, but the clan’s fame was slowly chipped away.

Seol Hong-baek closed his eyes.

“Patriarch.”

A warrior’s voice called from outside the door.

“A guest has arrived.”

“Show him in.”

Clack.

The door opened, and footsteps entered.

Opening his eyes, Seol Hong-baek turned.

“…….”

The two gazed at each other in silence.

But only for a moment.

“I greet the Patriarch of the Seol Clan.”

Gyeong Se-hwi’s greeting was plain.

Seol Hong-baek smiled and said:

“Welcome. I am Hong-baek, though lacking, the head of the Seol family.”

Gyeong Se-hwi did not raise his slightly bowed head, nor did he speak.

It was proper to give one’s name once the other had. But Gyeong Se-hwi could not bring himself to do so.

After waiting a while, Seol Hong-baek smiled as if it didn’t matter.

“How is your condition?”

“Thanks to you, I am well.”

Gyeong Se-hwi raised his head.

“I owe you a life debt. Thank you.”

It was an unusual phrasing.

Normally one would say, “Thank you for saving me.” There was no need to use the word “debt.”

Seol Hong-baek’s expression turned curious.

‘A debt.’

Not a favor, but a debt.

A favor might be forgotten, but a debt had to be repaid.

From that one word, he felt he had a slight glimpse of the youth’s character. Seol Hong-baek shook his head and said:

“There is no debt. I only laid a collapsed man at my gate inside. Physician Woo said you had no illness or wounds, so it wasn’t truly a matter of life.”

“You could have ignored an outsider, yet you brought me in and cared for me. That is a great debt.”

“Heh-heh.”

Seol Hong-baek laughed heartily and gestured toward a chair.

“I’ve kept you standing too long. Sit.”

The two sat facing each other at the table.

Having been told in advance, tea had already been brewed. As if the timing was right, steam still rose from the cups.

“Do you enjoy tea?”

“Tea…….”

Looking at the cup, Gyeong Se-hwi suddenly recalled his days in the clan before being stabbed.

He had been one of Sichuan’s most renowned blacksmiths. At only eighteen, he stood shoulder to shoulder with masters in their prime, and by his twenties, he was counted among the province’s five great smiths.

For one who dealt in iron and fire, the refined rituals of tea never suited him. Like the clan’s blacksmiths, once the day’s work was done he threw himself into boisterous drinking bouts, not tea.

“I know how to drink it.”

“Not knowing your taste, and since you only just woke, I prepared something light. It’s medicinal tea, so drink it slowly.”

It was a gentle kindness.

He wasn’t seeking anything in return. Consideration was ingrained in him.

Just from a few words, Gyeong Se-hwi could tell Seol Hong-baek’s character.

“Yes.”

Taking a sip, Seol Hong-baek asked with a slightly playful tone:

“So then, who was the poor fellow beaten half to death by your hand?”

“Pardon?”

“To be battered enough to collapse, you must have brawled with some vicious brute. I imagine he ended up worse off than you.”

A smile touched Gyeong Se-hwi’s face.

It was the smile of one unaccustomed to laughter, awkward and strained.

“I took the blow. Thought I was dead.”

“Hohoho! Is that so?”

Seol Hong-baek’s hearty laugh seemed utterly at ease.

‘He resembles him.’

As Gyeong Se-hwi studied him, his expression grew serious.

‘He looks disturbingly alike.’

The Tianshan Sect, destroyed by the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader.

He so closely resembled the man who had defended the Tianshan Sect, the Tianshan Sword Sect, to the bitter end, with fierce, unyielding eyes.

Descendants may look alike, you say?

Of course. But between this clan patriarch and that sect leader lay more than a hundred years.

Generations upon generations had passed. The chance of one today resembling an ancestor from a century past was slim.

Seol Hong-baek did not look identical to that warrior. But his brows, and his eyes were strikingly similar.

Most of all, the gaze.

That gaze, like unbroken bamboo, was so alike it seemed the man himself reborn.

‘You’re mad! How could I crawl beneath the fiend who burned my brothers and sect alive!’

A voice burning with fierce will.

Even at the brink of death, it brimmed with life that could not be quenched. It was overwhelming, a testament to how far human will could reach.

“Is there something on my face?”

Seol Hong-baek’s calm voice overlapped with that voice from the past.

Gyeong Se-hwi spoke:

“I was looking at your eyes.”

“My eyes?”

“Your gaze is truly fine.”

Few compliments struck so deeply.

Seol Hong-baek smiled faintly.

“For a master of a clan and a man of Murim, no praise is sweeter.”

“I mean it.”

“Haha, I know.”

There was much he wished to say. When Gyeong Se-hwi woke and asked to see him, he could barely contain his excitement.

Yet as they talked, he grew intrigued by this strange youth. His urgency quieted, eased by such an unusual partner in conversation.

“Your gaze as well, young master, is fine.”

“Is that so.”

“And yet, strangely…….”

“?”

“It may sound odd, but you seem somewhat confused.”

Gyeong Se-hwi’s eyes trembled.

He couldn’t tell if it was idle words or knowing ones. But they pierced him like a blade.

‘Confusion.’

The Eight Wastes Alliance Leader, forged in hardship, had no such thing as doubt or confusion.

Gyeong Se-hwi was different. He had learned the world alongside the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader, even becoming one with his will and emotions, but Gyeong Se-hwi was still Gyeong Se-hwi.

He already knew this, but now he realized it anew.

And suddenly, this place felt uncomfortable.

‘What was I thinking, coming here?’

The Eight Wastes Alliance Leader was the culprit who destroyed the Tianshan Sword Sect and stole its arts. And by a miraculous twist of fate, Gyeong Se-hwi had inherited all of his memories and experiences.

And now he had come to the clan founded by the Tianshan Sect’s descendants.

‘Is this fate’s way of telling me to return what was stolen?’

Whether heaven’s jest or a ghost’s trick, he could not say.

But this current, whether it be chance or inevitability, could only lead to one result.

‘To pass it on is easy. The problem is me.’

He had lost his identity. His soul felt adrift.

That could not be.

Had his heart been steady, he would not have suffered such confusion, even after only just waking.

“!”

In that instant, Gyeong Se-hwi realized.

What had been so uneasy and awkward since he woke.

‘My body is moving, but I don’t know why.’

It was understandable.

He had been stabbed by the one he thought was his brother, survived death by heaven’s grace, even lived as though possessed by a ghost, as the incarnate calamity who once conquered the world and returned.

How could one not be confused, when one was no longer oneself?

‘But that won’t do.’

Gyeong Se-hwi’s eyes changed.

‘My life is mine. No one else will live it for me.’

There was one absolute value both Gyeong Se-hwi and the Eight Wastes Alliance Leader shared.

That was conviction.

The thing that made him himself, the force that drove his life.

To live honest to his desires, yet not be ruled by them. To live truer to himself than anyone else.

The single will that proved that the master of his life was none but himself.

“Mm.”

Seol Hong-baek straightened, a little embarrassed.

“My apologies. Perhaps I spoke out of turn. I only meant to lighten the mood, so don’t take it too……”

“It was clumsy.”

“Mm?”

Gyeong Se-hwi sipped his tea.

It was a little bitter, but fragrant.

“On my way here, I saw the warriors training in the training grounds. Their swordplay was so crude, it surprised me.”

It was not the sort of thing one should say before the head of a martial clan.

Seol Hong-baek cleared his throat.

“They know their learning is lacking. But they work hard.”

“Hard work alone won’t fill the gap. Their sword paths look plausible, but they’re out of line with sword intent. No matter how hard they train, depth won’t come.”

“!”

Seol Hong-baek’s eyes wavered.

Setting down his cup, Gyeong Se-hwi continued:

“For self-defense, it is acceptable. But it cannot end there. When striking into an enemy’s territory, one must advance without hesitation. Mere threats, as they’re doing, will never serve as true defense.”

“What are you saying……?”

“Offense and defense are one—softness and strength, one. When cutting, cut mercilessly. When withdrawing, move straight, preparing the next sword path.”

“Look here, young master—”

“That is the subtlety of the Seven Purities Sword.”

“!!”

Seol Hong-baek’s eyes shook as though struck by an earthquake.

“Also, for the Seven Purities Sword to display its full power, it requires Tianshan’s foundational art, the Ice Wheel Heart Method. Even its sword forms alone are more than sufficient, but the Seven Purities Sword is not a martial art that ends with the basics. Only by achieving Seven Purities properly does the path to Eight Purities open.”

“Y-young master!”

Seol Hong-baek swallowed dryly.

“What you are saying now…….”

“…….”

“N-no! I didn’t mean…….”

Even Seol Hong-baek, famed across the realm, could not help but be shaken.

Flustered, he steadied himself with a deep breath.

A moment later.

“Young master, do you know of Tianshan?”

Gyeong Se-hwi replied, his voice dry:

“The time has come to repay my debt.”