Chapter 10
Dan-yeop listened silently to Jeon Jung’s words, then asked with a blank expression,
“So, I’m Dan-yeop, that much I get. What are your names?”
“I’m Jeon Jung, and this here is Deung Pyeong. Why? Gonna go running off to Instructor Dan to snitch? ‘The third-generation trainees don’t respect their seniors, please punish them!’ That what you’re thinking?”
Jeon Jung mimicked a child’s tone as he teased, and Deung Pyeong chuckled beside him.
Dan-yeop sighed lightly, as if weary.
“Haah! Is Hao Sect always like this?”
This time Deung Pyeong asked,
“Like what?”
“Like, no respect or consideration for seniors?”
“There is respect—but you’re the exception.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’re a blockhead. You spent over ten years here and still couldn’t learn even a single martial art of the Six Gates. You couldn’t graduate, and you’ll probably rot in the Tomb of Warhorses forever. Who’d respect that? Even the first-generation seniors who’ve already graduated don’t consider you their peer. In here, it doesn’t matter when you entered, it matters when you graduate. And everyone knows you’ll be slower than us third-generation trainees. A guy like that shouldn’t expect seniority.”
Dan-yeop listened expressionlessly, then spoke,
“Everything you said is true—except for two things.”
“What’s wrong then?”
“First, I’m not a blockhead. Second, I have learned the martial arts of the Six Gates.”
“Pfft! That’s just what you think. Nobody here believes that. You didn’t get the nickname ‘Stone Monkey’ for nothing.”
“Well, it’s not like I can split my head open to prove it. How would I convince you otherwise?”
Deung Pyeong, who had been itching for a chance to rough him up, seized the moment.
“Talking won’t prove a thing. If you’re suddenly so confident, then fight me. Nothing’s clearer than testing with our fists. Right?”
“Fight you?”
“What, you scared? Afraid you’ll get beaten again?”
Dan-yeop shook his head.
“No, that’s not it. But I am your senior—how could I start the fight? The junior should be the one to come at me. If you’re so confident, then come.”
Caught off guard, Deung Pyeong turned to Jeon Jung, incredulous.
“Damn, you heard that, right? The Stone Monkey’s finally gone mad. The guy who couldn’t even look me in the eye is telling me to come at him.”
“Heh! The cure for a madman is a beating. Snap him back to his senses.”
“Yeah, time to carve into him the fear of the third generation.”
With that, Deung Pyeong lunged at Dan-yeop.
In the Tomb, talented kids trained in Heaven-Shaking Palm Technique, the rest in Twin Tiger Fists.
Deung Pyeong was one of the latter.
After seven years of training, his movements were sharp and fast.
He struck out at Dan-yeop’s head with a flurry of left-right punches.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Dan-yeop tilted his head slightly, dodging with ease, then smacked Deung Pyeong across the face with his palm.
Smack!
Deung Pyeong tumbled backward, then sprang up again with a furious roar, charging once more.
“You bastard!”
This time, abandoning Twin Tiger Fists, he switched to True Six Harmony Fist.
He stretched out his left hand to block Dan-yeop’s vision, then lashed out with his right like lightning, striking toward his chest.
It was the fourth form: Cover the Sun, Break the Stone.
In that instant, Dan-yeop slipped sideways using Flying Stream Steps, moving like flowing water.
Again, Smack!
Deung Pyeong was sent flying.
This time the impact was heavier—he couldn’t get up immediately.
Jeon Jung’s mouth went dry at the unexpected turn of events.
“What… what’s happening here?”
From what he knew, Deung Pyeong’s skills were about the same as Magul’s.
Dan-yeop had been beaten by Magul, so by logic, he should’ve been beaten here too.
But the result was the opposite.
As Jeon Jung fretted, Dan-yeop’s calm voice rang in his ear.
“Jeon Jung. Shouldn’t you test me too?”
Weaker than Deung Pyeong, Jeon Jung quickly folded.
“Senior Dan, earlier we spoke out of ignorance. If we’d known you’d mastered the Six Gates martial arts, we’d never have said such foolish things.”
“Wow, you switch sides fast.”
“I mean it! Deung Pyeong understands now too. Deung Pyeong, get up and apologize. This was all our fault.”
Dragged in, Deung Pyeong reluctantly rose.
“…We were wrong.”
“Then let’s do better from now on. I’ll be watching.”
At Dan-yeop’s soft warning, both replied in unison,
“Yes, senior.”
With that, Dan-yeop let them go.
“My foster father’s supposed to be a martial instructor, right?”
Before the dazed Deung Pyeong could answer, Jeon Jung jumped in.
“Yes, he’s the Martial Instructor of Amun.”
“Take me to him.”
“…Take you?”
Jeon Jung, puzzled, searched Dan-yeop’s face.
Why guide someone to a place he’d gone countless times over twelve years? He couldn’t make sense of it.
“What? Don’t want to?”
“N-no, sir. Please follow me.”
Jeon Jung cursed inside—weakness is a sin—and led the way.
Amun Training Hall.
After hearing Dan-yeop’s story, Instructor Dan Bul-wi looked astonished.
“So, you woke up in some northern stone chamber, but couldn’t remember who you were?”
“Yes.”
“But you still remember the Six Gates’ martial arts, and all the books you read in the library? Just not yourself?”
“That’s right.”
“Good heavens! Strange indeed… wait. Could this be a side effect of Divided Mind Art?”
Knowing already from Jeok Song-ja, Dan-yeop asked innocently,
“You think it’s because of Divided Mind Art?”
“You fool! Didn’t I warn you it was dangerous? That you’d ruin yourself if you practiced it? Why did you go and train in such nonsense!”
“Um… Father, it didn’t only ruin me. I’ve also gained some things.”
“…What?”
Dan Bul-wi stared in shock.
Twelve years ago, he had named three children he brought into the Tomb: Dan Geum, Dan Jae, and Dan-yeop.
Because of that, people joked he was their foster father.
But in truth, there was no real bond. The children had never once called him “Father.”
Yet suddenly, here Dan-yeop was, doing just that.
As he stood dumbstruck, Dan-yeop quickly explained.
“My mind has become incredibly sharp. I’ve mastered all the Six Gates’ martial arts, and memorized every book I read in the library.”
Dan Bul-wi was even more shocked by this than by being called “Father.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
Suspicious but curious, he tested him.
“Then recite the formulas of the Seven Wounds Saber Art.”
Dan-yeop began at once:
“The first strike shatters Yin, breaking the root of energy [First Wound Yin Shattered]. The second strike rends Yang, destroying the body’s frame [Second Wound Yang Torn]… [continues through all seven wounds]…”
He recited flawlessly without pause.
Dan Bul-wi’s face shifted through many expressions as he listened.
To him, Dan-yeop had always been a bit special.
The scar on his neck from childhood still lingered at sixteen, and Dan Bul-wi had always wondered about its meaning.
Now this same boy was perfectly reciting the deadly Seven Wounds Saber Art.
But reciting wasn’t enough.
“Now perform it.”
Dan-yeop rose, took a saber from the wall, and without hesitation executed the entire sequence—from the first form to the seventh.
Swish! Swish!
Each stroke split the air with a sharp, frightening sound, even harsher than when Dan Bul-wi himself demonstrated.
When finished, Dan-yeop calmly sheathed the saber and set it back.
Sensing his steady breathing, Dan Bul-wi was astonished.
Even I can’t steady my breath this well after using that art… Yet he’s calm? Incredible.
“How was it?”
Dan-yeop asked.
“Excellent! Truly excellent! You’ll be able to graduate this year.”
“Actually, Father, I don’t plan to take the graduation exam yet. I want to train here longer.”
“What? Why?”
“I just wish to deepen my training.”
He watched Dan Bul-wi carefully—because he needed his approval to stay.
Luckily, the instructor didn’t object. He too had lingered here for training.
“Very well, I’ll arrange it. But… your lost memories. Do you think you’ll recover them?”
“Perhaps.”
“That’s good. Still, don’t cling to it. Let things flow naturally, like water. The outcome will be better that way.”
“Yes, Father.”
Dan Bul-wi coughed at the repeated “Father.”
“Ahem… and about calling me father…”
He explained how he came to be called foster father to the three children.
Hearing this, Dan-yeop looked slightly crestfallen.
“So I wasn’t truly your foster son after all. Hah… Not the Sect Master’s son, not even the Instructor’s son… feels empty.”
“Who told you you were the Sect Master’s son?”
“No one. I just thought so myself, since I somehow knew all the Six Gates martial arts. Turns out I’m just a nobody.”
Dan Bul-wi’s heart ached at the self-mockery.
This boy was nothing like before. Once gloomy to the point of being eerie, now he was cheerful—even too much so.
And above all, his talent was dazzling.
“Don’t call yourself a nobody. If you wish, you may treat me as your foster father.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. I named you, and raised you for twelve years. Truthfully, you and the others have been like family to me.”
Half true, half bluff—but sincere in intent.
And sincerity speaks.
Needing someone to lean on, Dan-yeop dropped to his knees in a full bow.
“This unworthy son greets his father.”
“Hahaha! Good! From now on, if you need anything, come to me. You are the son born of my heart—never feel burdened.”
Dan Bul-wi, merely a martial instructor, spoke as if he were much more.
Soon after, Dan-yeop left the training hall and, after asking around, found his quarters.
Seeing the bed in the stone room, a sudden wave of exhaustion hit him.
“First, I need some sleep.”
He collapsed onto the bed and was snoring in moments.
The third-generation trainees numbered only twenty-five.
In less than half an hour, word spread: “Deung Pyeong got beaten by Dan-yeop.”
Within another hour, the core of the third generation—Baek Yu-hwa, Yi Pung, and Yu Ja-cho—gathered.
Baek Yu-hwa, known as the strongest among them, spoke coldly,
“We must avenge this before the fourth generation hears of it. Otherwise, they’ll look down on us.”
Scar-faced Yu Ja-cho stepped forward.
“Leave it to me. I’ll make Dan-yeop piss himself at the sight of a third-generation face.”
He ground his teeth—resentful as always toward good-looking men.
