The Namsan Sect — Training Upon Training
The next morning, the two ate a hearty dawn meal at the inn.
After filling their stomachs, they climbed straight up Namsan.
They expected a few to be gone.
The training had been excessive.
There were no visible, rapid results.
It would not have been strange if many had dropped out.
The instruction itself seemed too simple to lead to greatness.
"This is it."
Such an attitude was more than enough to filter people out.
It had not been their intention to drive anyone away.
Still, part of them would not have minded if the number shrank.
Since word had spread, the Cheonhwa Inn had been crowded.
Questions and requests never ceased.
In truth, they had hoped things would calm down.
There were quite a few from prestigious great sects as well.
To their eyes, this style of training must have seemed crude.
Those with pride and reputation would have little reason to follow it.
Yet not a single person was missing.
They had all arrived early and were waiting.
They did not scatter into small groups chatting like the day before.
They did not stand about like a ragged mob.
Everyone stood in their assigned place.
Like those standing before fate, their faces were grave, their eyes steady.
They silently waited for the two to arrive.
The assigned position was one they could not leave unless they overcame the current task.
They stood there again.
They had not overcome it, so they remained.
It resembled life.
A task not crossed lingers.
If passed over without conquering it, it appears again elsewhere.
The word "solution" may not be perfect.
Yet what one does not resolve continues to cling.
As long as the heart remains bound there, one cannot depart.
The feet may move, but the center stays.
Soun cleared away trees and stones that might become obstacles.
He swept the paths they would climb and descend.
He packed the earth where they must crawl.
He leveled the ground so that when they struck their heads, they would suffer less.
They were people who had to roll roughly.
They were people who had to crawl on all fours for an entire day.
There are things that do not yield no matter how hard one tries.
They were accepting that the process itself would not change easily.
They had seen that only those who overcame the task advanced.
One who could not recite remained in place.
No one needed to restrain them; their feet simply would not move.
A simple principle binds more firmly than law.
Those who could not memorize wandered about.
If they must circle in tiger-step anyway, at least the path should be clear.
They removed obstacles around the training ground.
They cleared sharp stones, cut away branches, even dug out last year's stumps.
If someone misstepped, the one injured would be themselves.
An injured hand or foot meant the next stage moved farther away.
Memorization does not occur on its own.
Without recitation, nothing continues.
So they moved as instructed.
It seemed Soun was trying to carve unmemorized phrases into their bodies.
He placed recitation atop the posture of punishment.
He layered the words over trembling legs and the rhythm of breath.
What the mind could not grasp, he engraved through the body.
As Soun walked toward Pyo-seon Rock, he spotted Sogyo and called out.
"Hey, you worked hard yesterday, Sogyo."
Sogyo pouted.
Now that his name was known, he would hear it every day.
He should have named himself "Daegyo" instead.
Why had he taken a name that sounded like a low-ranking military post?
Because he looked young, there was no honorific when he was called.
Sogyo knew he was actually older than Soun.
Yet somehow, in front of Soun, he could not argue.
He let a bit of what he muttered inside slip out.
"Am I his close aide or something? If he weren't the instructor, he wouldn't even be worth a punch."
It was barely audible.
But to Jimin, whose perception had sharpened through training, it was crystal clear.
She was not one to let it pass.
Her sharp eyes lifted.
"Want to try?"
Short. Solid.
Jimin was not someone to be underestimated because she was a woman.
In a place of martial training, the fist determined rank.
"A-ain't so. I misspoke."