Martial Arts Ain't Anything Special

Namgung Changhwi quickly gathered the critically wounded in one tent.

He didn’t waste time doubting Seojun. They would all die if left alone anyway.

Nine severely wounded patients were gathered in one place, clinging to a thread of hope.

Seojun nodded as he looked at them.

“This should be...”

“My Lord, I didn’t know you were skilled in medicine too.”

“I’m not.”

“What does that mean...”

Jang Geuk scratched his head. Namgung Chang-hwi approached Seojun and asked.

“What should we do now?”

He was being extremely cooperative. After observing him briefly, Seojun sat down.

“Please lay the worst cases before me first.”

Even Seojun couldn’t cure diseases.

At best, he could use inner qi to expel harmful qi. It might cure some illnesses, but most would remain untreated.

However, simple external wounds and internal injuries were different.

The first martial artist laid before Seojun had a large sword wound on his chest.

The wound was festering, his face was pale, but his body temperature was abnormally high. Of course, knowing this didn’t tell Seojun much about what was wrong.

So he didn’t even bother checking the patient’s pulse. Taking his pulse wouldn’t provide any useful information given his lack of medical knowledge.

“Amitabha...”

Glancing at the monk chanting prayers beside him, Seojun placed his hand on the patient’s abdomen.

“Everyone please be quiet.”

Seojun’s inner qi flowed into the patient through his hand.

He quickly assessed the wound and internal injuries, first forcibly untangling the twisted blood vessels.

“Keugh...!”

Blood spewed from the patient’s mouth. There was no worry about his airway becoming blocked. After securing the airway with the patient’s own qi, Seojun spread his qi throughout the body, mapping even the smallest meridians in his mind.

He identified areas blocked by murky qi, unopened conception and governing vessels, determined the path forward, and guided his inner qi without hesitation.

Crunch!

The man’s entire body began to twist.

Grandmaster Ji-baek who was watching widened his eyes and reached out his hand.

“...”

However, his hand never fully reached. Namgung Changhwi blocked it.

Grandmaster Ji-baek sent a sound transmission.

[What if something goes wrong?]

[And what’s your alternative after stopping him? The patient will die anyway if left alone. If we’ve entrusted him, we must trust him.]

He closed his mouth at those words.

After some time passed, Seojun removed his hand.

Namgung Changhwi’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“He’s truly healed...”

From what he could tell, this wasn’t medicine. If anything, it was Body Rebirth. He had essentially recreated the injured area anew.

As Seojun wiped the sweat from his forehead, Jang Geuk handed him a wet towel.

“Ah, thanks.”

“My Lord, when did you learn this?”

“I didn’t learn it.”

“Then...?”

Seojun grinned and burned away the blood on his hands with reinforced qi.

“Can you throw an apple in the air and cut it?”

“What kind of obvious... Aren’t you underestimating me too much?”

“No, it’s not about underestimating. That’s just how it feels to me.”

Though he had never done it before, he was confident he would succeed. It wasn’t particularly difficult for him, just a bit tiring.

Stretching his stiff body, Seojun tilted his head back to look at a man.

“Excuse me, your name is?”

Namgung Changhwi answered.

“Namgung Changhwi. I don’t recognize either of you from the clan, may I ask your names?”

“Ah, you weren’t at the clan home? I’m the Clan Head’s son-in-law.”

“So you’re Lady Suah’s...?”

“Uh, yes. I guess?”

Even during his questioning, Namgung Changhwi continued laying the next patient in front of Seojun.

Instead of immediately treating the next patient, Seojun gave him some precautions.

“This method draws on the patient’s true qi to crudely achieve Body Rebirth. Their inner qi, realm, and lifespan will all decrease.”

“That matters not. Their life comes first.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I’m saying that they could die out of nowhere even after treatment so they need to be carefully looked after.”

“We’ll do that.”

Namgung Changhwi busily moved about with the Namgung martial artists.

Grandmaster Ji-baek also led the monks while chanting prayers, and other martial artists with remaining energy helped them.

As morning dawned after a long night, Seojun finished treating all the critical patients and collapsed.

“Oh god, I’m dying...”

“You’ve worked hard.”

Jang Geuk, who had been guarding him, handed him a wet towel.

After wiping his face to wash up, Seojun abruptly sat up.

“So what do we do now?”

“I am also unsure.”

“Uh-huh...”

As Seojun gaped blankly, Grandmaster Ji-baek having just finished placing the last patient in another tent, answered instead.

“Should we not withdraw first? Black Serpent reinforcements shall soon arrive and this situation does not look in our favor.”

“Is that okay? If we retreat from here, what happens to the nearby cities and the Hebei Peng Clan?”

“I believe that... once we withdraw, other martial artists will come in our place.”

Namgung Changhwi frowned, having returned a moment ago.

“No, that will not do. Were that to be the case we must still hold down this position until those martial artists arrive.”

“Amitabha... That is unreasonable. Even if we endure, only the martial artists here will perish.”

“And if we withdraw? All the people in the cities occupied by the Black Serpent will be used as sacrifices.”

“But what meaning is there in holding our ground here? It is clear that we cannot withstand should the Black Serpent martial artists attack right now. It would be nothing but a meaningless sacrifice.”

Seojun blinked at the sudden argument. Jang Geuk secretly sent a sound transmission.

[What will you do?]

[I’m not sure. They both seem to have valid points.]

The truth was, martial artists have no obligation to protect the commonfolk.

To put it bluntly, commoners essentially live as parasites leeching off martial artists.

Of course, it’s also true that martial artists can live quite comfortably because of commoners. After all, they produce necessary goods and luxuries.

However, should the martial artists desire, they could force commoners to serve them, or they could make them farm in exchange for accepting them into their sects.

From the beginning, the Central Plains was an incredibly dangerous place, and commoners who didn’t receive protection from sects could not survive.

Setting aside other martial artists, even demonic creatures frequently appear in the Central Plains.

In the end, commoners receive protection from martial artists while providing them with conveniences, which is mainly the way of the orthodox faction.

The Black Serpent side felt no need for this and thus treated commoners almost like slaves.

Commoners could live relatively well only because the orthodox faction values chivalry, at least for appearance’s sake...

It was somewhat unfamiliar to Seojun, who had lived in a modern democratic society, but not incomprehensible.

A world where an individual’s martial prowess can counter armies of hundreds of thousands.

It’s not a world where numbers matter, nor can commoners ever become the rulers of the country.

The only thing that matters is martial arts.

This world remains barely livable only because some shred of chivalry still exists.

Hence, martial arts and chivalry go hand in hand.

As Seojun was deep in thought, Namgung Changhwi’s voice reached his ears.

“What does the Young Master think?”

“Me?”

Grandmaster Ji-baek and Namgung Changhwi looked at Seojun. Somehow, the decision had been placed in his hands.

After contemplating, Seojun reached a conclusion.

“Let’s try holding out for now? Honestly, I think we can manage it.”

Their reactions were mixed.

After briefly giving his farewells to the two martial artists, Seojun went to the tent assigned to him.

Jang Geuk followed him in and laughed heartily.

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“Haha! My Lord has such a chivalrous spirit!”

“Is it chivalry? I don’t think it’s particularly like that.”

“What else would you call sacrificing for the commonfolk if not chivalry?”

“I’m doing it because I fully believe it’s possible. If I didn’t think so, of course we’d bail out.”

His own life was obviously more important than people he didn’t even know.

The first reason for not retreating was that he truly believed they could handle it, and the second was his concern that if the orthodox faction continued to be pushed back and lost the war, the Namgung Clan might suffer.

The only times truly worth risking his life were when Chunbong, and now the Namgung Clan, were in danger.

As someone with little attachment to his own life, it wasn’t a difficult decision.

After all, aren’t I living on borrowed time anyways? If I die, well, that would be a shame.

Seojun promptly lay down on the floor.

*Surprisingly, the Black Serpent didn’t attack immediately.

When Seojun emerged from his tent after a good rest, several familiar faces greeted him.

“Thank you!”

They were the patients he had treated. Seojun scratched his head as he looked at them bowing deeply.

“It’s cold, go inside and rest. Your bodies aren’t in normal condition right now.”

“No! We’re fine!”

A Namgung Clan martial artist who had answered loudly grinned.

“I will definitely show the Namgung spirit on this battlefield!”

“Oh. Good.”

Seojun gave them a thumbs up, exchanged farewells, and headed to the meeting place.

The morale of the martial artists wasn’t as bad as he expected, though not sure whether because reinforcements had arrived or because their comrades who had nearly died were saved.

There was no way to know, but it was a good thing regardless.

Entering the tent, Seojun blurted out.

“Since they haven’t come yet, it seems they haven’t received reinforcements either. Why don’t we just attack them?”

“That would be difficult. Their stronghold is almost certainly warded with all sorts of sorcery, a frontal assault would be foolhardy at best.”

“Ah, I see...”

Sorcery? Is that something impressive? Doesn’t seem that special.

Seojun scratched his head awkwardly, then he suddenly asked out of curiosity.

“By the way, isn’t there a strategist here? No, what do you call it? A military advisor?”

“There was...”

“Was?”

“He died a week ago.”

“Oh.”

Seojun quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

What are these Murim Alliance bastards doing?

The situation hasn’t changed and other reinforcements still haven’t arrived? Are they fucking insane?

Would it really be that bad if the entire Namgung Clan just jumped ship to the Demonic Cult?

Seojun seriously considered it.