Under Heaven — Murong
Beside the Wudang disciple crawling on all fours,
a young woman bearing the surname Murong let her sword drift horizontally.
Sowoon moved to her side.
The blade rose and fell like waves,
light, almost playful.
It was difficult to tell whether that flow belonged to the original sword form,
or whether, being a woman, she lacked brute strength.
It did not look like orthodox sword handling.
It did not fit.
Like wearing clothes unsuited to one's body.
Her sword form and her breath walked different roads—
or perhaps rode different currents.
The breath she had learned before differed from the sword form she now practiced.
Naturally, there was conflict.
If breath were isolated, it would flow on its own.
Yet the moment she began the form,
the old breathing pattern attached itself first.
The reason she faltered was habit etched into the body.
How can one separate movement and breath as though they were unrelated?
Sword forms do not ask right or wrong.
They flow as they have been ingrained.
In the end, muscle guides movement.
Even the finest martial art does not escape the governance of muscle.
Why?
The question arose.
Sowoon observed the qi around her.
Her breath was short.
Her movements were short.
Her thoughts were short.
Thought rose first.
The body followed.
Breath attached afterward.
Again thought.
Again movement.
She was dividing the three and handling them sequentially.
That too is a kind of ability.
Yet it lacked smoothness.
Originally, they are meant to form one.
Perhaps long civilization had fragmented human movement.
She resembled a child holding a sword for the first time,
mimicking what she had seen.
The motion was clumsy.
Breath was shallow.
Connection was lacking.
It was awkward.
Like a right-handed person attempting swordplay with the left hand.
"Movement and form (形) exist to allow breath to flow straight.
Focus first on the form.
Lay the others atop it.
The flow will become even,
Miss."
At the word Miss, she halted and spoke,
clearly stating her surname.
"Murong."
"Murong, then. Miss Murong."
Repeated politely,
yet somehow sounding like teasing.
Perhaps it was because she was too young to be called Miss.
"Do you mean I should move first?"
Murong turned her head, recalling his words.
"Leave the others aside.
Unfold the movement.
Lay breath and mnemonic upon it.
The flow will change.
Read the movement.
Do not imitate.
Find the breath that suits the movement you just unfolded.
The breath that completes it most wholly will carry the verse within it.
Do not push it aside.
Attach it.
As though reading a book.
Read your own movement."
Sweat burst across Murong's forehead like rain.
Matching as he instructed required twice the strength.
Sowoon corrected her immediately, speaking what he saw and felt.
He nearly added more—
but stopped.
She appeared a woman of firm pride.
Those with strong pride do not hold another's words long.
Better to throw them short and leave them.
Repetition yields little.
"Yes.
Continue it a hundred times.
Descendant of kings…"
The surname Murong (慕容) historically belonged to royal clans of the Xianbei (鮮卑) people.
Several Yan (燕) dynasties of the Sixteen Kingdoms period were ruled by the Murong family—Former Yan, Later Yan, Southern Yan, Northern Yan.
It had slipped out in a humorous tone.
Yet its meaning was unmistakable respect.
Murong straightened immediately and offered a formal salute.
The words recalled that her clan had once ruled lands of the Central Plains.
On the surface, it might have sounded like mockery.
In truth, Sowoon's intent held the highest courtesy.
The Murong clan had once governed realms.
His tone had been light,
but respect lay within.
"Thank you for the instruction."
Murong gathered her sword inward and saluted with sincerity.
It was a bow to insight.
A gentle smile touched Sowoon's face.
Murong spoke again.
"Not a hundred times. A million and twenty-one times."
"Leave ceremony for later.
Continue what you began.
Seize the sensation before it fades."
Murong's blade drew horizontal once more.
This time it ran straight and long—
like the great sea (大海).
It was clearly different.
Sowoon stepped beside her and grasped her sword together,
guiding the trajectory of the Compendium's path.
He widened and lengthened the arc,
pressing it outward to the end of breath.
With his smaller body and shorter arms guiding the fully grown maiden's reach,
his movements became busier.
Even when he expanded his frame,
the difference in arm length limited range.
"Exhale long like the great sea.
Let it rise like a wave.
Yes—good."
He released her hand.
With a slight infused turn,
her rotation continued like a puppet set in motion.
Even after he let go,
she maintained the flow herself.
Murong seemed possessed,
splitting and sweeping the sword without pause.
All day she continued.
Others watched her as though she were mad.
She did not care.
She bore the momentum of fulfilling a million and twenty-one repetitions.
Elsewhere was no different.
Shaolin, Wudang, Emei—
and even distant disciples of Diancang and Kongtong stood present.
Not only the Four Great Clans,
but masters of the dark path as well.
Sowoon drew no distinctions.
Under Heaven's martial world had gathered there.
Had each sect sent someone to observe and learn?
Each had dispatched one or two elite rising talents.
At the rumor of a martial artist who had crossed realms,
every sect sent one.
When Sowoon opened his teaching after reading the longing beneath their composure,
Namsan became a place where all Under Heaven's martial world converged.
The figures presented were dignified masters.
In truth, they were only slightly faster,
or slightly deeper in internal power.
They stood upon the same horizon—
a step ahead at best.
A slight edge, nothing more.
Each sect calculated to advance before the others.
Sowoon accepted all without division.
It became a place of shared learning.
Perhaps this is what it means that a great person embraces widely.
Such a scene was rare in martial history.
Orthodox and unorthodox figures gathered in one place and shared meals.
Dark path practitioners trained alongside them.
They exchanged views.
They trusted Sowoon's teaching deeply
and walked the same road together.