Chronicles of the Lazy Sovereign

Chapter 11: The Counterattack of the Radiant Sword (2)

"A sword is a weapon that combines slashing and thrusting. In other words, all applications of the sword do not stray from those two."

"Ah, you meant that?"

"Indeed."

"Then you could’ve just said it like that. Why be so long-winded?"

"……My apologies."

"Please be careful next time."

Baek Muhan quietly looked at the sword in his hand.

If this were a solid sword, he would have already slashed that impudent mouth to pieces…

"Anyway, the first thing in using a sword is being able to thrust and slash naturally."

"Yes!"

"You said you’re the son of a martial clan, so you should naturally be capable of that, right?"

"Of course."

"Then give it a try."

Wi Yeonho stood up from his seat.

Then he drew the sword at his waist.

"Watch closely!"

Wi Yeonho showed a single thrust and a single slash.

Baek Muhan expressed his honest reaction with his whole body.

"Phew…"

Wi Yeonho looked at Baek Muhan with dissatisfaction.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Baek Muhan nodded.

"You're merely imitating the shape."

"Then is there another level to it?"

"Even a monkey can mimic the shape! What matters is conveying the true intent within!"

"……A monkey?"

Baek Muhan quickly tried to calm Wi Yeonho, realizing his mistake.

"It’s just a figure of speech! A figure of speech!"

"Hmm."

Though still somewhat disgruntled, Wi Yeonho gave a nod.

"The important thing is to imbue your sword with intent! What do you think the purpose of thrusting is? It’s speed! It’s to pierce the space between you and your enemy as swiftly as possible! Even a single thrust must carry the will to break through swiftly and decisively. If it doesn't, it’s merely a form with no substance, a sword that never progresses!"

"I see!"

"So, try thrusting again—but this time, with that true intent!"

"Yes!"

Wi Yeonho raised his sword and aimed forward.

'Pierce through the space between my opponent and me as swiftly and decisively as possible!'

He pictured the opponent.

Then he located the shortest line between them.

Through that line—swiftly!

Shwick!

Wi Yeonho’s sword pierced through the air.

Baek Muhan smiled.

"Yes, that’s how it’s done."

Wi Yeonho stabbed into the air a few more times, as if trying not to forget the sensation.

Then he looked back at Baek Muhan.

"Got it. What’s next?"

Baek Muhan shook his head.

"Not yet."

"Sorry?"

"You must thrust at least ten thousand times. That’s how your form will solidify. Keep going."

"Ten thousand?"

"Yes."

"That’s a lot…"

"A martial art without consistency will eventually lose its brilliance!"

"Hmm…"

Wi Yeonho nodded.

For now, it was best to do as he was told.

"Alright."

Wi Yeonho began thrusting into the air once more.

Baek Muhan smiled with satisfaction.

His disciple had a foul temper and the worst laziness, but his insight was pleasing. Even now, with each thrust, there was a slight improvement.

Though he wasn’t a descendant of the Baek Clan, Baek Muhan had worried over whether he might lack insight. But at the very least, Wi Yeonho’s insight was not inferior to what Baek Muhan had expected from a Baek Clan descendant.

‘No, could it be greater than that?’

Baek Muhan suddenly grew curious about Wi Yeonho’s true identity.

The reason the Ten Thousand Sword Baek Clan had remained a prestigious family despite producing few descendants through the generations was because each descendant possessed extraordinary qualities.

In other clans, such geniuses might appear once in several generations—yet in the Baek Clan, they were treated as talentless if they weren’t gifted in martial arts.

But Wi Yeonho’s talent surpassed even those descendants of the Baek Clan.

‘Astounding.’

At this rate, it might not be a dream to pass down everything to him within five years.

Thrusts continued—hundreds of times.

"……"

Wi Yeonho’s sword stopped.

Baek Muhan tilted his head.

"What is it?"

"Do I have to keep going?"

"Didn’t I say ten thousand?"

"I feel like I’ve done enough already."

Baek Muhan firmly shook his head.

"Martial arts without a solid foundation can never progress. Try building a fortress high without a strong base—it’s bound to collapse! This is all for your own development!"

Wi Yeonho nodded.

"Got it."

Baek Muhan was thoroughly pleased.

There was a lot of complaining, but he accepted the logic quickly. Maybe he wasn’t as lazy as Baek Muhan had feared.

"……Then I’ll continue tomorrow."

"What?"

"My arms hurt. And my legs, too."

"Well, of course it hurts if you’re training!"

"I don’t like being in pain."

"……"

Baek Muhan closed his mouth.

"And my back hurts too. I sweated a lot, you know."

"Grgh…"

"So I’ll rest today and continue tomorrow."

"How do you expect to grow strong with training like this?"

"It’s just because I haven’t done this in a while. I’ll train hard starting tomorrow. Today’s just the first day."

"You’ll never grow strong if you keep putting off today’s work until tomorrow!"

"You sure worry a lot. I said I’ll really work hard starting tomorrow, didn’t I?"

"……"

And with that, Wi Yeonho went over to the corner and lay down.

"Y-Yeonho."

"I’m taking a nap, so don’t bother me."

"No, today’s training…"

"My, you talk too much. I said I’ll work hard starting tomorrow. Don’t you trust me?"

Of course not.

He was human—there was no way to trust that.

Wi Yeonho was truly shameless.

"Yeonho."

"Don't worry. See you later."

As soon as Wi Yeonho lay down on the floor, it didn’t take long before he was fast asleep.

"Ugh."

Baek Muhan let out a sorrowful sigh.

There was no reason to believe the next day would be any different.

For seven whole days and nights, Wi Yeonho would lazily swing his sword a few times, then lie down, saying he’d continue tomorrow.

Baek Muhan had tried scolding him, coaxing him, even pleading with him—but Wi Yeonho was immovable.

"Yeonho!"

"Ah, just let me sleep a little more."

"Will you please get up already!"

"I said I got it, alright? I’m up. I’m up, okay…?"

"Rrrgh…!"

Baek Muhan cursed the heavens.

Lately, his curses had grown so venomous that if the Heavenly Emperor up above heard them, he might become so furious he’d descend in person.

Then again, if the Heavenly Emperor did descend and learned the full story, he might actually apologize to Baek Muhan instead.

"Please, just get up already!"

"Ah! Seriously!"

Wi Yeonho shot up from where he lay.

"Do you never sleep, old man? Wait, no! You’re dead, of course you don’t sleep! But I’m alive, okay? Don’t you know people need sleep?"

"Who sleeps as much as you do in all the world!"

"Have you checked? Did you check everyone? And don’t you know people have different personalities?"

Baek Muhan was thankful that he no longer had a physical body.

If he had, he’d have already fallen into qi deviation or burst a blood vessel and collapsed by now.

"Grgh…"

What glory was he trying to achieve?

What martial arts was he even trying to pass down?

Why had he left behind his Will, only to witness this wretched mess?

Baek Muhan regretted his choice all over again. So what if those martial arts didn’t get passed on? He should’ve just died in peace—what was all this suffering for?

"……Fine. I apologize. So let’s begin your training now."

"Let’s rest a bit first! Who starts training the moment they open their eyes!"

"If you keep this up, your training won’t be done in five years—it won’t be done in thirty."

"Hmm…"

That seemed to strike a nerve—Wi Yeonho slowly got up.

"Ugh, this is such a pain…"

Baek Muhan’s face twisted in horror.

How could someone who had been practicing nothing but thrusts for seven full days say something like that?

A task that should’ve been completed in half a day before moving to the next step—he’d dragged it out for seven days!

"Isn’t there an easier way to learn this stuff?"

"……It already seems easy enough."

"Tch! This is why you have to meet a capable master."

"I’m sorry…"

"Forget it. It’s all just my luck."

"Grgh…"

Wi Yeonho drew his sword half-heartedly and gave it a few lazy swings.

"Ah, it’d be great if my body just moved on its own."

"How would the body move on its own?"

"You know, like that thing—when you don’t force it to move, it just moves on its own when you think about it."

"To reach that kind of state requires ceaseless effort."

"That makes sense."

Suddenly, something came to Wi Yeonho’s mind, and he tilted his head.

"Then how did that happen back then?"

"That?"

"You dropped that boulder, remember?"

Baek Muhan gave a bitter smile.

"That was just a mechanism I had set up beforehand."

"How?"

"It was simple. I just had to pull the string of the trigger device I’d prepared."

"But you said you couldn’t use your body."

"Right."

"Then how did you pull it?"

"That has nothing to do with the body. It was just… psychokinesis…"

At that moment, Baek Muhan’s expression twisted strangely.

His face shifted moment by moment in odd ways before finally settling on a single expression.

It was a wide, gleeful grin.

"Kuhuhuhu! Yes, that’s it! That’s the answer! Why didn’t I realize it before?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I was trapped in the assumption that I have no body. Or maybe, after maintaining my Will for three hundred years, there were just too many incomplete pieces? Either way—thank you. Thanks to you, I’ve discovered something very useful."

"……Why do you keep muttering to yourself?"

Despite Wi Yeonho’s rude remark, Baek Muhan didn’t look the least bit annoyed or angry.

On the contrary, he smiled as if thoroughly delighted.

"Don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough."

"Old man, you keep doing things by yourself and…"

Boom!

Right then, a deafening explosion rang out right beside Wi Yeonho’s face.

Cold sweat broke out on Wi Yeonho’s forehead as he slowly turned his head. A stone, seemingly shot from somewhere, had embedded itself deep into the stone wall.

"……"

"Thank you! Thanks to you, I figured it out! I may not have a body, but moving something like a stone? I can do that anytime!"

"T-That…"

"And if I can move a stone, I can do this, too!"

A rock that had been lying on the floor slowly rose into the air.

Wi Yeonho stared at the stone with eyes full of dread.

For some reason, he had a clear feeling about where that rock was going to fly.

“W-Wait a second!”

“No! Let’s just begin—with a hit!”

Whoosh!

The stone flew at Wi Yeonho, carrying the full weight of Baek Muhan’s long-held resentment and fury.

Smack!

The rock struck Wi Yeonho square in the forehead, sending him crashing to the ground without even a chance to scream.

“Uuuugh…”

Wi Yeonho’s mouth opened wide.

“Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!”

It hurt.

It hurt so badly, he couldn’t even understand how something could be this painful.

“Why are you hitting people?!”

Baek Muhan smiled.

“Huhuhu, does it hurt?”

“Of course it does!”

“I see.”

A broad grin stretched across Baek Muhan’s face.

“Then you need more!”

“Ehhk!”

Rocks flew at Wi Yeonho from all directions, battering him.

Thud! Thwack!

“Aaagh! Argh! Aaaagh! What are you doing! Argh! Old man! Aaaagh!”

Baek Muhan frowned.

Throwing stones was all well and good, but continuously using psychokinesis was quite taxing.

Moreover, focusing on shaping a physical form made it even harder.

“Hm, there’s a better way.”

A rock flying through the air shot toward Baek Muhan’s fist. It quickly gathered into the shape of a transparent fist around the stone.

“What are you even—!”

Thwack!

Baek Muhan’s fist landed a powerful knuckle strike right on Wi Yeonho’s head. A gong-like sound rang out as Wi Yeonho’s mouth dropped open.

His vision went dark and sparks flew. It was, without question, a rock-solid punch.

“Urgh…”

Wi Yeonho slowly collapsed backward.

“Kahahahahah! So this was the answer! Prepare yourself, you wretched brat!”

“Aaaaaagh! Spare me!”

“Silence!”

“Old man! No—Master!”

“I thought you didn’t want to be my disciple!”

“I will! I will!”

“No! It’s fine! I refuse!”

“Ah! Don’t hit the same spot again!”

“Then I’ll hit all the places I haven’t touched yet!”

That day, the dust kicked up from Wi Yeonho’s beating filled the cave in a hazy cloud.