Book 7 Chapter 10

Moyonghwi's Vow

"I lost!"

As Yeomdo and Biryu stood under the moonlight, concocting some sort of plan,

Moyonghwi lay on his bed, gazing blankly at the ceiling,

savoring the bitterness that welled up from his heart.

"I lost."

His gaze became distant and unfocused. His consciousness was wandering in a dreamscape. He hadn't anticipated that the shock of his first defeat would be so immense.

Though he had a corner of his mind that acknowledged that invincibility was impossible,

facing it directly proved difficult to endure. All sorts of anguish, worry, and self-blame tormented him.

"Why did I lose?"

Moyonghwi asked his own heart.

He had never before received such a heavy and terrifyingly chilling swordsmanship. The fear that a moment's carelessness could cost him his head. Moyonghwi could, after a long time, recall the fear of a life-or-death moment.

"Does the fear of the sword and death still linger in my heart?"

The empty void seemed to have no intention of graciously answering his question. Reluctantly, Moyonghwi had to find the answer within the depths of his own heart. By his own power.

While everyone called it a draw, Moyonghwi keenly felt his defeat. On the surface, today's match ended in a draw. But Moyonghwi knew well. Strictly speaking, today's contest was his defeat! Even when he was pushed to a point where he couldn't wield his sword, the monstrous opponent was still vigorous. At that point, he had no energy left to move. Conversely, the opponent was full of power like a charging chariot. If he hadn't gone berserk, his sword could have ended my life.

It was frustrating.

Moyonghwi bit his lip tightly. The coppery scent of blood tickled his nostrils. It was self-punishment and a ritual to solidify his will. He couldn't back down like this. He couldn't be disgraced and collapse like this, tarnishing the name of the Sword Saint.

He was not the type to fall into endless despair, like a collapsing tower after one defeat. He had deeply ingrained the principle that being frustrated by one failure was the act of an idiot. Failure is common in warfare; it happens constantly in the military. His age was too young to be discouraged by a single failure.

His twenties, an age where nothing remained if one stripped away his endless spirit of challenge, his vigorous ambition, and his burning passion.

"Next time, I will absolutely not lose!"

He vowed to the sword in his heart. I will surely win! For my name and my family's honor!

He was a genius who could leap over obstacles when he encountered them. He was a being worthy of being called a true genius.

"I will never lose again!"

To face the enemy once more, healing wounds and recovering stamina were the top priorities.

Moyonghwi slowly circulated his internal energy and began the Naegiyo Sang Method.

Fortunately, as his heart meridian seemed undamaged, the circulation of internal energy was smooth. However, it would take some time for external wounds to heal. It was unreasonable to expect them to heal completely in a short period.

The next day!

Thump!

As one person collapsed, the special training began.