Regression of the Yong Clan Heir

Chapter 132: Namgung Clan (3)

‘It’s a firefly.’

Sweat ran down my hand.

Now that I looked again, that motion wasn’t something insignificant.

The firefly never left the old man’s range.

No matter where it moved, it inevitably ended up back within the old man’s reach.

‘Good heavens. It may look meaningless, but the firefly can’t fly beyond the arc of his swinging stance. He’s completely sealing off the firefly’s movements. You can’t predict where it will go since it’s an insect with wings, and yet he’s blocking it.’

The more I looked, the more astonished I became.

‘If he brushed the firefly even once while swinging that stance, the firefly would die. Can one really trap the firefly just by cutting off its directions?’

Thinking that way made me realize—this unimpressive movement might be the most terrifying form.

If I imagined myself as the firefly, it meant that no matter what I did, I wouldn’t be able to escape the old man.

‘To regulate internal energy above water and trap a firefly without killing it… this is a realm beyond comprehension.’

The more surprised I was, the more I gained.

‘They say that when one becomes a true master, techniques disappear—does this mean that?’

A heat rose in my chest as though I’d glimpsed the world of absolute masters.

Then, the old man who had been toying with the firefly over the water turned his gaze toward where I was hiding.

The moment he looked directly at my hiding spot, I flinched in shock.

Because I had gotten too excited, my heat surged, and that energy inadvertently leaked out.

“Who might you be, walking under the moonlight?”

The old man calmly stepped out across the water’s surface and spoke toward the Moonlight Pavilion where I lay prone.

Not revealing myself would be impolite, so I jumped down.

“I apologize. I disturbed your meditation, sir.”

Midway through my bow, I froze in disbelief.

‘That can’t be… it wasn’t just one firefly?’

What looked like a single firefly had now split into ten.

As it turned out, there were about ten fireflies, but the old man had blocked them so perfectly it looked like there had been only one.

Goosebumps prickled across my entire body.

Watching me, the old man asked,

“An unfamiliar face. You’re not of the main family?”

“No, sir.”

“Where are you from?”

“I’m Yong Hwarin from the Heavenly Central Sect.”

“The Heavenly Central Sect… that would be the martial clan based in Mount Tianzhong of Henan?”

The old man’s tone was utterly composed.

It carried the dignity of a Taoist who had cultivated for a long time.

“Yes, sir.”

“Your stealth was so refined, I thought you were an assassin.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to spy.”

“Then what brought you here?”

“I came to assist the escort service of River Center Escort Agency, but while taking a walk in the guesthouse garden, I sensed a strange energy. It drew me here. Though I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t resist. I have been rude. Please forgive me.”

“You felt my energy and came here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hahaha.”

The old man let out a soft, hearty laugh.

It had been quite a while since he had come here to train like this.

But Yong Hwarin was the first to sense that energy and approach.

“You said it was an energy you couldn’t refuse?”

“If I were to describe it, yes, sir.”

“Hoho, to think someone not of the main family would be the one drawn by fate.”

The old man looked at me quietly for a moment and then spoke.

“You seemed quite shocked earlier. Did you see something in my movements?”

When I hesitated to speak, the old man asked kindly,

“It’s all right. Speak. I’d like to hear what you sensed. If you do, I’ll forgive you for secretly observing my training.”

I couldn’t stay silent after that.

“At first, your movements looked like you were just swinging randomly. But when I saw the firefly couldn’t escape the center, I realized it was trapped within your movement.”

“And then?”

“Also, no matter where the firefly tried to go, it couldn’t get out. I realized that your seemingly random stance actually blocked off all directions of escape.”

“So?”

“I came to feel that your random movements weren’t random at all, but were orderly and governed by laws, enough to seal off every possible path.”

The old man was impressed by how much I’d seen at my age.

Normally, at that age, insight is limited—one sees only what one knows.

But I had transcended that limit.

“So in the end, what did you come to understand?”

Truthfully, there was a hidden principle in the old man’s martial art, beyond what I had described.

He wanted to see whether I had grasped even that.

‘If he understood that too, it’s as if he saw through all my insight.’

For a moment, I thought about hiding what I had realized.

But I also wanted to confirm whether what I had sensed truly lay within the old man’s movements.

I wanted to know if what I grasped was just a personal illusion or the truth.

If I misunderstood and applied it wrongly, I could fall into Qi Deviation.

“I learned that simply blocking the front doesn’t necessarily mean the direction is sealed.”

“Oh!”

For the first time, the old man let out an exclamation of admiration.

“I realized that merely brushing past is enough to block the path—such a small insight.”

“Hohoho, do you know what that means?”

The old man continued.

“Martial artists beyond the Transcendence Realm no longer clash their weapons or arcs. From the outside, their battles might look like child’s play. They don’t strike each other directly. They’ve gone beyond blocking directions—they sever intent itself. Even without ever crossing swords, they pierce each other’s openings. Unless you witness such battles, you could never reach that understanding.”

That such a child, young enough to be his grandson, had realized it—he found it admirable and also a little bitter.

Because I didn’t share his blood.

A shiver ran down my spine.

He now understood what it was that he’d lacked—what the Demonic Master had once mentioned.

He also realized why it was said that this kind of understanding could never be reached through words alone.

Had someone simply told him this hidden truth, he would never have felt its full weight.

Only by experiencing it with his entire body and mind did it become true enlightenment—a new realm.

The old man looked at Yong Hwarin, who trembled with ecstasy, and felt a swirl of emotions rising within him.

“Hahaha, it seems some unrelated brat is continuing my martial legacy.”

After trembling for quite a while, Yong Hwarin finally raised his head, and the old man asked,

“If I were to name what I’ve realized, what name would you give it?”

“How could someone like me, a shallow scholar of the martial world, dare to name such a profound truth, sir?”

“No, go ahead and say it. I want to know—what would you name it?”

In truth, the old man asked this to measure Yong Hwarin’s depth of understanding.

If one could express their realization in words, that meant the insight was whole.

If one had grasped something but couldn’t describe it, then it was a half-baked enlightenment.

Even if enlightenment was formless, if one could not embody it with their own words and internalize it, it would remain vague and vanish like a mirage in spring.

“I had a phrase come to mind while watching your realm, sir.”

“Yes, I’d like to hear it.”

“‘Flowing water does not compete to be first.’ (流水不爭先)”

The phrase meant that flowing water does not struggle to get ahead. Its depth was far too great to be confined to a single interpretation.

“Ho… You’ve exceeded my expectations. I myself couldn’t think of a name better than that. Indeed, my martial art lies in natural order and flow. Knowing that means you’ve glimpsed a sliver of it.”

At those words, Yong Hwarin’s trembling continued.

He had gained insight, but hadn’t fully grasped it.

But now he realized—the key was in natural order and flow.

Even in the old man’s unpolished swinging stance, there was clearly flow and order.

That’s why the ten fireflies couldn’t escape even the small space of his reach.

At last, Yong Hwarin had tasted a realm only true masters were said to witness, and in his overwhelming joy, tears streamed down his face.

He hadn’t expected to cry, and was flustered by it, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

“My child.”

Yong Hwarin, unable to hold back his tears, looked up at the old man.

He felt no shame.

To show this vulnerable state to the one who led him to such a realization did not matter.

It might’ve seemed strange, but at this moment, such thoughts were meaningless.

He looked at the old man, whose gentle tone sounded like that of a grandfather calling to his grandson.

“You’ve obtained a piece of my understanding. I’ll make a request of you.”

Yong Hwarin bowed deeply before him.

At this moment, the old man was no different from a teacher to him.

“I will obey anything, sir.”

The old man stroked Yong Hwarin’s head and spoke warmly.

“Do not become enemies with the Namgung Clan. And if they face great trouble, please lend them your help. That is all.”

“I understand. I will not go against your will.”

“Thank you.”

“Please tell me your honored name.”

The old man had originally intended to conceal his identity.

But he felt no need to hide it from someone who now shared in his understanding.

“A long time ago, I went by the name Namgung Bi.”

Yong Hwarin looked at the old man in astonishment.

The elder Namgung Bi was the Supreme Elder of the Namgung Clan, and a legendary martial artist who had once been ranked among the Seven Kings of the Martial World in the “Moonless Blade Chronicles.”

In the martial world, there were two people known by the title Sword King.

One was Namgung Bi, the World’s Sword King (世劍王), and the other was Yeo Euyeong of the Wudang Sect, known as the Heavenly Sword King (天劍王).

Which of the two was stronger was often a topic of debate in the martial world.

Among the prestigious martial families, Namgung Bi was the only one who had ascended to the rank of the Seven Kings.

He was that much of a martial genius.

Namgung Bi felt a pang of regret.

‘If only that child were from the Namgung Clan… I would’ve passed on everything I’ve realized. It’s such a shame.’

Then suddenly, he felt a hollow disappointment in himself.

‘Even at this age, I still cling to desire. I’m lesser than that boy who spoke of flowing water not striving. Truly pathetic.’

To reach a realm through natural order and flow, yet still be trapped by old desires—it was almost laughable.

The old man looked at Yong Hwarin one last time before soaring away into the night, vanishing toward his dwelling.

Yong Hwarin felt as though he had met an immortal under the moon and received a stroke of destiny. He even pinched the back of his hand to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

‘To think I would meet someone who was one of the Absolute Martial Artists in my past life like this. And to gain such a great realization from him—it truly is a fateful encounter.’

Before the feeling could fade, Yong Hwarin returned to the guesthouse’s garden and began connecting his martial arts techniques one by one, contemplating natural order and flow with each move.