Sincerity often fails to be conveyed.
The greatest realization I gained upon reaching the Harmony Realm was that Intent—that the human heart—is deeper and more complex than one might think.
That is why focusing it on a single point is not as easy as it sounds.
For the same reason, conveying one's true feelings to another must be an exceedingly arduous task.
After all, there are countless times when a person doesn't even properly understand their own mind, let alone attempt to convey it through such uncertain means as words and actions.
And so, sincerity is often distorted. Not because of anyone's fault, but because that is simply how humans are born…
"Wait, isn't it just because your social skills are a bit lacking, Cheon Hwi?"
"How regrettable. To think that even you, Seol Ri-hyang, would fail to grasp my sincerity."
"Of course I know what you were trying to say, Cheon Hwi. Being able to fight a superior martial artist at full strength without any worries is clearly a good opportunity. You wanted to recommend something you thought was good to others, right?"
"Hmm. That's right."
"But usually, when a kid who looks thirty years younger than you says something like 'come at me with everything you've got, rookie,' people will think one of three things: you're showing off your level, you're looking down on them, or you have a personality problem."
"…"
When she puts it that way, I don't really have a response.
After all, when I first brought up the sparring bout, Seomgeomja's expression had been quite complicated.
As if he were debating whether or not to get angry about it.
As I was briefly recalling the events of that day, Tang So-wol slipped between me and Seol Ri-hyang, who were both lying down to rest, with a gentle smile on her face.
That wasn't a figurative expression—she actually wedged her body between us, resting my head on one knee and Seol Ri-hyang's head on the other.
"Now, now. There's no need to worry about that anymore, is there? In the end, the Sect Leader understood that young hero Cheon brought it up out of goodwill, and today we even sparred for several sijin like this."
"That's true."
Since sending the letter to the Shaolin Temple, I had often found time to spar with Seomgeomja.
And as expected, while the overall martial level of the martial artists belonging to the sect was low, the Diancang Sect's martial arts were outstanding enough not to lose to others.
It was a sword focused entirely on the Mystery of Speed, and perhaps because it was originally a martial art that used a bow, it was an extreme style that emphasized offense over defense.
That was precisely why it was a sword honed sharp enough that it could not be easily dismissed.
If we had been at the same level, I would not have been able to dodge the thrust coming at me in time.
In truth, Seomgeomja's footwork was varied, but the Sa-il Sword Technique consisted of only a single thrust. That meant it did not account for the opponent dodging or blocking.
That one thrust was overwhelming. To properly face the Sa-il Sword Technique, one would have to approach it with the mindset of cutting the opponent down before the sword was even swung, rather than blocking or dodging.
"In that respect, it resembles the Hwangbo Clan's martial arts a bit."
Though I had stolen it with my eyes, the Hwangbo Clan's Mount Tai Fist was about silently enduring the opponent's attacks and then crushing them along with all obstacles in a single straight punch.
The Sa-il Sword Technique, on the other hand, dodged here and there to bait an opening, then drove a fastest thrust into the gap once found.
They were mostly opposites, but the most crucial part—piercing the opponent with the best possible strike—was the same, was it not?
I knew a few other martial arts of a similar nature, and just as I had taken down the previous head of the Hwangbo Clan in our last encounter, I could imitate them to a certain degree. Naturally, they were quite powerful, too.
However, this is nothing more than imitation at best.
My martial art is rooted in the principle of drawing out the technique needed at the moment it is needed.
When I need to cut hard, I cut hard; when I need to thrust fast, I thrust fast; when I need to flow softly, I flow softly.
It's not as easy as it sounds, but fortunately, I have a talent for this sort of thing, so I've managed to get by so far.
Still, compared to those who dig only one well, it's also true that I feel a lack in that regard.
Hwangbo Yeongcheon is a different case—he was obsessed with the Hwangbo Clan's martial arts forgotten in favor of sorcery and forcibly elevated talent.
But the Seomgeomja I faced today was a martial artist who had reached his current level through proper, consistent training.
The thrusts that such a Seomgeomja unleashes… it's only natural that, if nothing else, his thrusting alone is far more precise and swift than mine.
To the Seomgeomja, the Sa-il Sword Technique—that simple yet unadorned thrust—is a sword worthy of staking everything on, and at times, the only weapon with which to challenge those stronger than oneself.
And this is something I need as well.
I'm not speaking of a mere thrust. A technique that contains everything I have in a single strike—a sword needed to reach someone overwhelmingly stronger than me… specifically, that monster of a Heavenly Demon.
To put it more plainly…
"I need a secret art."
"Hm?"
Tang So-wol tilted her head. I rubbed my head against her knee, found a more comfortable angle, and continued.
"Lately I've been thinking I need a decisive move—like Ten Thousand Flowers Rain among hidden weapon arts, or the Formless Poison among poison arts."
"Hmm. A secret art. Certainly, for a young hero like Cheon, it's a matter worth considering at least once."
As is the case with most Harmony Realm martial artists, once one masters an advanced martial art and reaches that level, one naturally comes to learn the secret art of that martial art.
By now, Seomun Hwa-rin, who would be standing by near Heo Soye in my place, prepared for any unforeseen situation, would have also reclaimed the Seomun Clan's martial arts and learned the clan's secret art.
Well, though it would be a style executed with fists rather than a sword.
Anyway, at the pinnacle of an advanced martial art lies something worthy of being called a secret art, but for someone like me who has pieced together and modified all sorts of miscellaneous martial arts, I have no choice but to create one myself.
"They say a secret martial art takes a form that suits one's own mental image and Intent."
"I've heard a similar story from my father. It's said that the one who created the Formless Poison endured many tragedies and lived his entire life with a poisoned heart."
"I cannot fully understand it, but if I were to guess… a poison that gnaws at one's own heart would certainly bring death to the opponent, yet since that poison has no substance, it could be that it was a kind of enlightenment where neither form nor scent could be perceived."
"So it seems that reaching the Harmony Realm really does change a person? At times like this, young hero Cheon, you look quite impressive."
"At times? I'd appreciate it if you admired me a little more often."
I shrugged and played it off with a joke… but in truth, I only knew this because I'd heard something similar from Tang So-wol before my regression.
She was no slouch in reading hearts either.
I'd brought it up casually, hoping that this conversation might prove useful to Tang So-wol later on…
But it seemed Tang So-wol was focusing on something else entirely.
"Hmm. Do you know something, young hero Cheon?"
"I'm getting a bit nervous, but I'll ask anyway. What is it?"
"It's about the fact that I've been receiving bride lessons little by little ever since the engagement ceremony was completed."
"…Well, of course I wouldn't know, since you never told me. But now I do."
"Hehe. Normally, it's something you learn from your mother, but as young hero Cheon knows, my mother passed away early."
"That's right."
"So I consult the books passed down through the Tang Clan, and the married women among the retainers take turns teaching me this and that… and there's one thing they all say in common."
Tang So-wol's lips curled up into a sly grin as she said that.
"They say men absolutely love it when someone acknowledges them and builds them up."
"That is…"
I couldn't deny it. If it were merely a pursuit of fame, there might be differences between individuals, but recognition from those around you—especially from a wife or lover—is something any man would hold dear.
Even if he knew the words were deliberately calculated.
"Young hero Cheon, you're truly remarkable. Have I ever told you how I'm always grateful and in awe of you?"
"Kuh!"
Tang So-wol's voice tickled my ears. Every time her lips parted, the breath that escaped sent pleasant goosebumps across my skin.
"You've always been there whenever I needed you, young hero Cheon. Yes. Over the past few years, you've never changed in that regard, so just seeing you puts my mind at ease."
As she said that, Tang So-wol's hand slowly moved toward my upper body. Perhaps it was because of the thick martial robes I wore for winter.
Her touch, firm enough to be felt clearly even through the fabric, subtly roamed over my body here and there.
"When we first met, you were smaller than me and just adorable… and now you've grown so impressively."
"Don't you think your choice of words is a bit odd?"
"This is also thanks to how diligently young hero Cheon always trains."
"That's true, I suppose."
"Especially since your Bone-Exchange Rebirth, you've grown exactly to my taste…"
"W-wait. Is this really a compliment? Something feels a little off here."
"Hehe. How you take it is up to young hero Cheon."
With those words, Tang So-wol slowly raised her head.
At the same time, Seol Ri-hyang, who had been frozen stiff and barely breathing, trembled slightly beside me.
Tang So-wol, having completely returned to her usual self unlike a moment ago, gently helped me up and continued speaking.
"You should get up now. Isn't it time to switch with Hwa-rin unni?"
"…It's already that time."
While Heo Soye was awake, I and Seomun Hwa-rin had agreed to take turns watching over her, in case her Heavenly Killing Star went berserk.
Half a day had already passed, so it was about time for my shift.
I rose from my seat with a vaguely uneasy feeling and straightened my oddly disheveled clothes.
After checking the sword at my waist one last time, Tang So-wol, holding the stiff Seol Ri-hyang whose face was flushed red, waved her hand.
"Then I'll take my leave. I'll wait here with Hyang-i in the meantime."
"I don't see why I should wait in my own room while I'm not there… but I'll be off."
I gave a light wave of my hand in return and stepped outside.
In the morning, I had watched over Seol Ri-hyang's martial arts and even sparred with Seomgeomja, so time had flown by.
Now it was time to teach Heo Soye a few tricks I had picked up from practicing the Crazy Wolf Life-Stealing Art, so that she could suppress her killing intent even a little.
The sun was half set, and the sky held more dark purple than red. I was walking toward the training ground, gazing up at it, when—
A disciple of the Diancang Sect, whose name I didn't know but whose face I had seen once before, came running toward me, panting heavily.
He was a low-ranking fellow who mostly ran errands… Could something have happened?
I paused and waited, and the man who reached me gasped for breath before speaking.
"Blood Flower Sword Demon! You've arrived!"
"Who is it?"
"The people from the Shaolin Temple you mentioned the other day!"
"Oh."
Considering the time it took for letters to travel back and forth, they had arrived earlier than expected.
"Good work. I was on my way to see Miss Heo anyway, so I'll guide them. The Sect Leader should be at the training ground, right?"
"Yes!"
I gave the young Diancang disciple's shoulder a light pat and turned toward the main gate.
The entrance to Diancang Sect wasn't far. A familiar old man was waiting there.
Except there were two of them, not one.
"Namo Amitabha. It's been a while, benefactor."
"Yes, it has… but is it really alright for you to leave your post so easily?"
Great Master Jeonghyeon, who had been carrying Great Master Gakjeong, set him down and answered with his palms pressed together.
"As the benefactor said, if the Heavenly Killing Star has truly appeared, then all the more reason the Shaolin abbot cannot afford to be absent."
That was a fair point. The existence of the Heavenly Killing Star was not a matter for one individual or a single sect—it concerned the entire martial world.
"And if you were to run into another Green Forest bandit and end up unconscious for days again, Master, that would be a problem, wouldn't it?"
"Hmm."
It was a joke… right?
For someone who had knocked out Great Master Gakjeong more than once, it wasn't a joke I could laugh at.