Chapter 4

After joining Zhang Pae’s unit, Jang Il was given an entire large tent to himself.

It happened because he had joined before Zhang Pae had the chance to recruit new soldiers after being promoted to commander of a hundred men. Of course, it was also an act of consideration on Zhang Pae’s part.

If Jang Il had moved into one of the existing tents, there would barely have been enough room for him. More importantly, it kept the overly nosy soldiers from constantly pestering the sixteen-year-old.

After all, despite his great achievement, Jang Il was still only a boy.

“…”

That consideration proved helpful in many ways.

The silence of the long night gave him the solitude he needed to mourn his late master.

It was only deep into the night that he finally fell asleep.

That night…

Jang Il had a very strange dream.

Clone

The dream was astonishingly vivid.

Its beginning was even stranger.

Just as it had happened to him in reality, the dream began with him awakening from death.

The dream-version of Jang Il slowly opened his eyes, confusion filling his face.

“Where… is this?”

Being resurrected was unbelievable enough.

But the surroundings were equally unfamiliar.

Unlike the real Jang Il, who had awakened three days after his death on an unburied battlefield, this Jang Il awoke in the middle of a dense forest.

Fortunately, his matured state of mind prevented him from panicking.

He immediately began moving to figure out where he was.

“…The Kingdom of Yao?”

Less than half a day later, he found a small fortress.

After entering, he learned that it belonged to the Kingdom of Yao, leaving him utterly bewildered.

That reaction was only natural.

The Kingdom of Yao had disappeared in ancient times.

Jang Il knew of it because Yao had been the predecessor of his own nation, the Kingdom of Kang.

Founded by the Kang tribe—once dismissed as barbarians—it had been an enormous and fiercely warlike nation.

War was practically its livelihood.

The slaves captured in battle produced nearly all of the kingdom’s food and daily necessities.

During the nation’s early years, when slavery was at its height, the ratio of citizens to slaves had reportedly been one to ten.

That alone showed how obsessed they had been with warfare.

“What is going on?!”

Jang Il refused to believe what was happening.

Being resurrected was already impossible enough.

Being thrown into the distant past was even more absurd.

Ever since his father’s death, he had watched his widowed mother struggle every single day.

He simply couldn’t accept being separated from her like this.

“…It’s true.”

Yet before a full day had passed, he was forced to accept reality.

Everywhere he looked, countless slaves filled the streets—a hallmark of Yao.

Everything was drastically different from the era he knew.

There was, however, one fortunate discovery.

The value of money in this era was vastly higher.

Jang Il currently possessed two taels of silver.

He had saved them over the course of an entire year, intending to send them home someday.

In his own era, that amount could buy four sacks of rice in an average year.

If he bought cheaper grains instead, it might even purchase ten sacks.

But here…

Things were completely different.

Silver was worth at least ten times as much.

In other words, the money he carried was enough to purchase a hundred sacks of grain.

This was largely due to Yao’s military-centered policies and the primitive state of its mining technology.

The same held true for metallurgy.

Even the standard military equipment he carried would be considered high-quality in this age.

Naturally, the sword his master had left him—crafted with exceptional skill—was regarded as a treasured blade.

Simply knowing he possessed enough wealth to survive gave him a measure of comfort.

Of course, the sense of loss was so overwhelming that he wandered aimlessly for several days.

But on the fourth day…

He finally found a new purpose.

“I’ll find Master’s sect.”

Although his mental maturity had increased, Jang Il was still only a young boy.

Searching for a new martial family to replace the one he had lost was perhaps only natural.

He immediately sold his military equipment, bought a horse, and set off.

His master, Oh Mun, had been a man of very few words.

There were only two reasons he had accepted Jang Il as his disciple.

The first…

He did not have long left to live.

The second…

Jang Il possessed extraordinary natural talent.

If physical aptitude were ranked as low, middle, and high…

Jang Il undoubtedly belonged to the highest class.

Unfortunately, years of poverty had left him malnourished, and he had begun training far later than most.

Much of his potential had already faded.

Even so, Oh Mun had accepted him without hesitation.

His own body had long since been ruined by old internal injuries.

But that hardly mattered.

Finding someone with talent like Jang Il’s within the military was as difficult as finding a needle in a desert.

As for Jang Il…

He had accepted Oh Mun as his master because he wanted to survive.

Although Oh Mun had been an extremely strict teacher, Jang Il had never once resented him.

Beneath that stern exterior lay an indescribable warmth.

That quiet affection had soothed the weary heart of a boy who had carried the burden of being the eldest son for far too long.

“…Right.

That happened too.”

Perhaps because of that, as he traveled in search of his master’s sect, memories of Oh Mun frequently surfaced.

Recalling those old conversations provided him with several valuable clues.

The most important among them were these.

His master’s sect had been called the Thousand Sword Sect.

According to Oh Mun, it had long since vanished.

However…

Since he had traveled into the past, there was a good chance the sect still existed.

He also remembered one more thing.

The Thousand Sword Sect had been located on Mount Dobong.

Fortunately, after making inquiries wherever he went…

He discovered that Mount Dobong lay within Yao territory.

After two grueling months of travel…

Jang Il finally arrived.

He let out a long sigh of relief.

“I never imagined the Thousand Sword Sect had only been founded three years ago.”

Had he been sent even a little further into the past…

He might have lost yet another goal.

At the time, the Thousand Sword Sect was far from famous.

It was merely a small sect known only around Mount Dobong.

In those chaotic times, there were more than ten similar small sects scattered throughout the region.

But Jang Il wasn’t disappointed.

He remembered something his master had once said.

“The Thousand Sword Sect earned its name because its founder broke a thousand swords. If that’s true… then he deserves to be called the Sword Demon.”

It was astonishing praise.

Among martial artists, a title was an enormous honor.

Many wandered the martial world for an entire lifetime without earning one.

Yet this man had been given the title “Demon.”

That meant he had stood among the greatest swordsmen in the entire nation.

If even a quarter of the stories surrounding him were true…

Then despite its humble appearance, the Thousand Sword Sect was a tiger’s den hiding an enormous beast.

Suppressing the pounding of his heart…

Jang Il approached the sect.

Unfortunately…

Reality proved disappointing.

The Thousand Sword Sect looked nothing like the lair of a hidden master.

In fact, it seemed even poorer than most ordinary minor sects.

Even the sect leader’s martial skill appeared inferior to that of Oh Mun.

Still…

Jang Il hadn’t come seeking overwhelming power.

He simply wanted a place to belong.

Pushing aside his disappointment, he stepped forward.

“You wish to become my disciple?”

The current sect leader, Moon Chu, stared at the unexpected visitor in confusion.

“Are you sure you’ve come to the right place?”

“Yes. Please accept me as a disciple of the Thousand Sword Sect.”

“…Well.”

Hearing Jang Il repeat the request left Moon Chu in an awkward position.

The sect was barely surviving as it was.

Taking in another disciple would only increase the burden.

Realizing the situation, Jang Il quickly took out a money pouch.

“It’s not much… but I hope it can help the sect.”

“No, no, you shouldn’t—”

Even while refusing out loud, Moon Chu unconsciously accepted the pouch.

The moment he looked inside…

His jaw dropped.

It contained…

Two taels of silver.

And five hundred copper coins.

Altogether, it was worth roughly two and a half taels of silver.

Considering the sect required only one tael of silver each year to survive…

It was an enormous fortune.

Only then did Moon Chu notice what he’d overlooked because of Jang Il’s rustic appearance.

The boy’s physique was exceptional.

Even inside its black scabbard, the sword at his waist radiated the sharp aura of a superior weapon.

And he had even arrived riding a horse.

Naturally…

Moon Chu assumed Jang Il came from an extraordinary background.

It was a complete misunderstanding.

But thanks to it…

He made up his mind immediately.

“V-Very well. Since you’re so earnest… I’ll accept you.”

“Thank you.”

“Ahem… then I’ll accept this donation as a token of your sincerity.”

Blushing in embarrassment at his own shamelessness, Moon Chu tucked away the money.

Then he said something entirely unexpected.

“Before officially accepting you, I think you should greet my father. He should be awake by now.”

“…?”

Jang Il blinked in confusion.

Without waiting for a response, Moon Chu took a bowl of medicinal soup his plump wife had prepared and led him toward the innermost room of the sect.

Watching him carry medicine, Jang Il had expected to meet a frail old man.

Instead…

Inside sat an old man who resembled a starving tiger.

The instant their eyes met…

Jang Il instinctively swallowed.

The pressure emanating from those eyes was terrifying.

The Jang Il of the past would have frozen solid.

But not the Jang Il of now.

Though he didn’t stare back, he could endure that oppressive aura.

Perhaps because of that…

The old man drank the medicinal soup in huge gulps without taking his eyes off Jang Il.

Seeing this, Moon Chu hurriedly explained why he had brought the boy.

“You fool!”

“Agh!”

Moon Chu immediately dropped to the floor after his father’s furious shout.

But the old man’s attention had already shifted away from his son.

“Even after looking again… he is truly of the highest caliber! Such a prodigy comes seeking to become our disciple, and instead of welcoming him with open arms, you’re worrying about pointless formalities? What use are you?”

“Your praise is more than I deserve.”

“Hahaha!”

The old man laughed heartily.

Jang Il’s exceptional physique pleased him.

But even more impressive…

Was the boy’s temperament.

A martial artist’s temperament was immensely important.

Especially at higher realms of mastery.

Developing it through effort required years of cultivation.

Yet Jang Il’s presence was so extraordinary that it seemed impossible for it to be innate.

Although the old man himself was wasting away from deviation of qi…

He had once been one of the greatest swordsmen beneath the heavens.

His own son was constantly overwhelmed by his presence.

Not because Moon Chu lacked ability…

But because he couldn’t withstand his father’s overwhelming aura.

Yet this young man, who had only just begun practicing martial arts…

Showed no sign of being intimidated.

It was nothing short of miraculous.

The old man coughed violently.

*”Cough… cough…

To think Heaven would send me such a gift when I have so little life left.”*

His trembling gaze settled upon Jang Il.

*”Your temperament is too great for my son to guide.

Instead…

Become my disciple.”*

Unexpectedly, Jang Il found himself becoming the disciple of the man who should have been his grandmaster.

Yet he accepted without hesitation.

Simply sensing such overwhelming presence from a man gravely ill made him believe that perhaps…

Everything his own master had told him had truly been real.

*”My name is Jang Il.

Please allow me to pay my respects.”*

He then performed the Nine Bows Ceremony exactly as Oh Mun had once taught him.

Watching with trembling eyes, the old man said,

*”My name is Moon Kang.

The remainder of my life…

I shall devote to laying the foundation of your swordsmanship.”*

“…”

Watching his father, Moon Chu couldn’t help feeling worried.

It was wonderful to see him passionate again after so many years.

But…

Wouldn’t he overexert himself and worsen his already critical condition?

Fortunately…

His fears proved unfounded.

Remarkably, after taking Jang Il as his disciple, Moon Kang’s desire to live grew stronger.

His illness did not improve…

But neither did it worsen any further.