Your attainment makes me proud instead.
"Your attainment makes me proud instead."
Mukeoja's eyes deepened.
"So then—how far do you intend to go?"
The question was simple.
But this time it did not carry doubt.
It carried expectation.
Sowoon appreciated Mukeoja's decisiveness.
He had confirmed the truth, yet did not cling to it.
That clarity was clean.
Was it simply his temperament?
Or the nature of the matter?
In most cases, the exchange would have turned like this:
Then let us test it. If you defeat me, would that not be proof?
But no such words came.
In truth, such matters do not take long to decide.
After only a few exchanges, superiority reveals itself.
Talk of dozens or hundreds of exchanges ending evenly
usually comes from those who do not know.
A few strikes are enough.
A single glance is enough.
The direction is already decided there.
Sowoon spoke quietly.
"I am settling the ties that have bound me. The war with the barbarians, the General's household, the White Dragon Unit, and those gathered here at Namsan."
He lowered his eyes briefly, then raised them.
"I do not know where I will go. At first I thought to leave. But I chose to live among people."
Mukeoja asked,
"Do you not desire the next boundary?"
Sowoon shook his head.
"That is not a matter of desire. When I fall into contemplation, it deepens of its own accord. There are endless questions and answers that continue without end."
His gaze drifted.
"At times it feels like drifting alone upon a vast ocean. At times like lying in a brilliant field of flowers."
He steadied his breath.
"It is not something I pursue by will. It feels as though I have already entered that path. There is no alternative."
Mukeoja's eyes narrowed.
"Those who say they challenge the next realm are usually those who have not yet reached Hwagyeong. Once crossed, the road simply continues. There is no end. It is not a matter of greed."
Sowoon's voice remained calm.
"Even if I do nothing, it seems I will walk that road."
Then he added softly,
"What I wish to ask—what wisdom I seek—is how I should handle these ties."
Silence lingered.
"Huh…"
Mukeoja exhaled slowly.
Once more he felt, fully, that he had not crossed.
And he realized that Sowoon's depth of thought ran far deeper than he had imagined.
"So that is it. I did not know. Truly, I did not know."
He nodded slowly.
"Now it is my turn to answer."
He looked up at the sky.
"I chose the imperial palace. I could have left. But I remained."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"I thought it the quietest place in the world. Quiet like a prison."
His tone was calm, yet the meaning ran deep.
"There I wished to distance myself from the world and refine myself quietly. I wished to be apart from chaos and turmoil."
His gaze settled on Sowoon.
"Each person has conditions of existence. A place to stand. A place to remain. A weight to bear."
A breeze passed beneath the canopy.
"You must find where you are meant to stand."
He glanced around Namsan.
"And what of here?"
A trace of mischief flickered in his eyes.
"Founder of the Namsan Sect, Yu Sowoon. Not bad, is it?"
Mukeoja grinned.
The grooves carved by time deepened across his face.
Sowoon laughed lightly.
"I have no such dream. I am still young."
"I have enjoyed the tea."
Abruptly, Mukeoja rose.
The shade beneath the canopy shifted.
The conversation had not been long.
Perhaps continuing it further would have weighed on him.
The process of confirming truth is never easy.
To look at oneself clearly requires strength.
At times one wishes to avoid it.
At times one wishes to turn away.
It was no different for Mukeoja.
He had already confirmed what he needed.
He did not require the words.
It was time to rise.
Sowoon watched silently.
A brief meeting—yet heavy.
"You are leaving?"
"Yes. I must go again. Even this long road seems now to show its end."
His voice carried a light tone,
but the echo lingered long.
"I will visit you."
Sowoon bowed respectfully.
Mukeoja glanced at him.
"Will you climb walls again? Three willow-leaf darts, three arrows, and a sword at your side?"
The words flowed like jest.
But beneath them lay a sharpened edge.
It was not a joke.
It was framed as a question—
but it was an inquiry.
Will you continue to live that way?
Will you cross the world in that manner?
Sowoon felt the gravity beneath it.
The night at the palace.
The deeds he believed no one knew.
To this old man, they were clear.
It was reproach.
It was admonition.
It was a call to reconsider.
Can martial power that transcends the human world be used so?
Should one intervene in worldly affairs in that way?
Three willow-leaf darts. Three arrows.
The weapons that felled Emperor and Chancellor alike.
Mukeoja already knew.
He had seen through it.
The meaning was clear:
Do not solve every problem that way.
Do not live by forcing aside obstacles with sheer power.
People often resolve matters through strength.
But is it always right?
Sowoon answered steadily.
"I feel the responsibility of the strong. I will live with that awareness. And I wish to regard you as my master in learning. That is why I would visit."
Mukeoja gave a short laugh.
"Boy. You have traveled further than I. Who should call whom master? Such words do not make sense."
"Am I not merely a child with strength?"
Mukeoja shook his head.
"That strength cannot manifest without a standing spirit. You have already crossed. Do not turn back. Do not stop. There is nothing more foolish than halting your path to pick up what you have dropped along the way. Life is short and only once given."
For a moment, the air between them felt distant.
Words ceased. Silence filled the space.
"Thank you for your guidance."
Sowoon knelt on one knee.
Mukeoja responded bluntly.
"That is unnecessary. I am not your general. Do not bow like that. I am leaving."