Martial Arts Masochist

The round of 32 was a bye.

The round of 16 followed.

Even before stepping onto the stage, Cheongwol could hear the cheers directed at her.

No one else drew as much attention as she did.

The star of this Dragon-Phoenix Assembly was being decided.

Yet inside, she was still screaming like a banshee.

Intense pain choked her throat, leaving her breathless.

“Hoo…”

What soothed her even slightly was the voices chanting her dharma name.

Sounds that once meant nothing to her now felt like affirmations.

The crowd saying it was fine even after witnessing yesterday’s brutality.

…Yes, maybe I wasn’t wrong.

Maybe what was wrong was the Emei Sect, telling her to tame that brutality.

Yeongcheon’s ideology seemed to be seeping in bit by bit.

She felt like she was naturally coming to understand what they pursued.

The masses are fools. They’re captivated by strength. No need to be swayed by them.

With so many desires, why live catering to their whims?

“Next! From the Emei Sect—”

“—Waaaaah!”

“Waaaaaaaah!”

The cheers drowned it out, and Cheongwol couldn’t even hear her own name.

Cheongwol’s name was burning hot at the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly.

She hadn’t heard her name, but realizing it was her turn, she stepped forward.

The audience had been waiting for her all day.

With the round of 32 being a bye, they’d only been waiting for this round of 16.

Amid the cheers for Cheongwol, her opponent climbed onto the stage without waiting for the announcer.

It was obvious they wouldn’t hear the call anyway.

Cheongwol’s opponent held no wooden sword.

He relied solely on his two fists.

The opponent cupped his fists in greeting and bowed.

“I’m Damhye of Shaolin.”

She could barely hear it, but Cheongwol roughly guessed his words.

Cheongwol slowly raised her hand.

The audience gradually fell silent, until not even breathing could be heard.

This sensation of completely dominating the arena… it wasn’t bad.

“I’m Cheongwol of the Emei Sect.”

Introductions complete, the announcer signaled the start without hesitation.

“Begin!”

Unlike the day before, Cheongwol didn’t lose consciousness.

She suppressed her tangled emotions and focused on the opponent before her.

Inner energy awakened in her dantian surged explosively through her meridians.

She unleashed the Shaoyang Sword Technique, honed over long years under Emei’s teachings.

As Damhye lunged with hands braced behind his back, she swung her sword.

Damhye slipped smoothly under the blade, then whipped his leg toward Cheongwol’s ankle.

Cheongwol had anticipated it and planted her sword into the ground.

-Clang!!

Leg met wooden sword, resounding like a massive bell.

Shaolin’s inner energy clashed with Emei’s, creating a thunderous explosion.

The more Cheongwol swung her sword, the calmer her mind became.

In these moments, she truly forgot all pain.

No need to think. No need to dwell on the agony.

She just had to focus on crushing the foe before her.

Cheongwol steadily observed her opponent.

Damhye, beginning to be called Shaolin’s future.

He might become their next abbot.

He too was an ascetic pursuing Buddhahood.

What mindset did he cultivate with?

As a prime disciple of Emei, Cheongwol had many questions for Damhye.

Cheongwol raised the inner energy poured into her wooden sword to about twenty percent.

The wooden sword creaked and wailed, unable to withstand it, but she ignored it.

The Shaoyang Sword Technique was meant to deflect the opponent’s force and strike their gaps.

But her sword abandoned flexibility, crashing down like lightning head-on.

Damhye blocked Cheongwol’s fierce assaults, but she could feel him gradually struggling.

No matter the training, a wooden sword slamming into flesh would hurt.

Suddenly, as if overwhelmed, Damhye thrust out his left palm.

Cheongwol leaned back to evade, then swung her sword blindly into his now-exposed left side.

-Thwack!

A dull thud, and the sensation traveled up her arm.

Cheongwol smiled faintly and created some distance.

…As expected, violence was pleasurable.

“Haa…”

Having vented her dark emotions once, Cheongwol looked at Damhye.

-Drip, drip…!

Blood poured from his nose.

Yet Damhye’s expression showed no change.

As befitting Shaolin’s future, he maintained composure even now.

Suddenly curious, Cheongwol asked.

“Monk Damhye. May I ask you something?”

“…Ask away.”

“With what mindset do you endure your austerities?”

It was truly what she wanted to know. How did someone in the same position live?

“What mindset, you say.”

Damhye closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, answering in his unchanging tone.

“Austerity is shedding one’s attachments. Letting go of delusions and desires, simply existing. No particular mindset is held.”

“That’s all?”

Cheongwol’s brow twitched.

“No intent to protect someone or achieve something?”

“Things to protect breed attachment; desires to achieve are mere cravings. Thus, we forgo children and restrain our urges.”

“Then where do you find the reason to live?”

“I’ve said it: We simply live. Because we were born.”

“…I don’t understand.”

“Understanding isn’t necessary. The Dharma is enlightenment, not comprehension.”

“Pfht…”

In the end, Cheongwol burst into laughter.

“Ahahaha…”

Even at her mocking laugh, Damhye’s face remained unchanged.

Only now did Cheongwol realize.

So this is what a Buddhist is.

Look at that monk, hailed as Shaolin’s future.

Just a shell, with a dead corpse inside.

Now she understood.

I can’t live like that.

Freedom doesn’t come only from crippling the dantian and severing meridians.

If that’s the path I must take, then I refuse.

Cheongwol shifted her stance.

‘Cheongwol!’

Someone called from behind, but she no longer heard it.

The sword technique she’d always hidden. But now, no desire to conceal it.

Extermination Sword, First Form: Heaven-Shattering Annihilation.

The moment Cheongwol swung, Damhye’s expression finally wavered.

****

Damhye lost consciousness from Cheongwol’s final strike and collapsed.

The crowd cheered and went wild.

Cheongwol’s wooden sword had snapped. The blow hadn’t fully landed, yet Damhye fell.

Cheongwol gazed at her broken wooden sword, tossed the hilt onto the stage, and descended.

Soun rushed over, perhaps sensing something wrong, and grabbed Cheongwol, but she brushed off her master’s hand and walked away.

As everyone cheered, my heart pounded anxiously.

…I know nothing of swordsmanship, but something felt off.

Was that… the Extermination Sword?

“…”

Sudden impatience bloomed; I couldn’t stay here any longer.

The tournament was still in full swing, but I set off to find Cheongwol.

.

.

.

Where did she go?

I felt if I was late, it would be too late.

For three days, I’d watched Cheongwol slowly break down, and today felt like the end.

Is this what I wanted?

Probably not at all.

This wasn’t the outcome I hoped for.

“Haa… haa…”

I ran frantically, searching for where Cheongwol might be.

The lodging? Probably not.

I circled the temple grounds repeatedly, scanning for Cheongwol.

“…Over there.”

Then, someone called me.

Turning, I saw Hye-yul, the senior disciple and second-in-command of Emei Sect.

She looked at my heaving breaths and said.

“…If you’re looking for Wol-i, she went that way.”

She pointed in one direction.

I nodded and dashed off.

****

“Cheongwol!”

The voice reached Cheongwol, who had finished preparing to leave Sung Mountain.

A secluded path leading into the mountains. No one around.

She thought her decision was final, yet that voice shook her like a reed.

How did he find me? She wondered.

At the same time, feeling a strange warmth that he’d come for her made her scoff inwardly.

Han Seojin caught up, panting heavily.

He grabbed her shoulder and turned her around.

-Thud!

Cheongwol roughly shoved his hand away.

For some reason, tears were already streaming down.

Not a drop before her master, yet his presence alone made them flow.

“…Where are you going?”

Han Seojin asked.

Wiping tears, Cheongwol sneered.

“Why? Afraid your bets will all fail if I disappear?”

“…”

“…It’s first place. There, shopkeeper. I’m done with Emei life. I’m not staying with the Emei Sect anymore.”

“Cheongwol…”

“I should have left when I had the chance before… Now leaving feels like regret. Why did I endure longer, torturing myself…?”

“Where to?”

“Shopkeeper, you know? Recently, Yeongcheon’s group approached me. They said they’d make everything I want come true.”

Han Seojin’s expression cracked briefly.

It’d be odd not to waver at the six great enemies of murim approaching.

Especially for Han Seojin, who despised martial artists.

But Cheongwol hid no longer.

“They said they’d let me have everything I want.”

Unknowingly, she slowly placed her hand on Han Seojin’s cheek.

In her eyes swirled a desire she could no longer conceal.