It will be fine. (4)

Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. Excelling in every field is practically impossible.

Of course, there are rare individuals who surpass the limits of ordinary humans and excel in various domains. Such people are often called ‘geniuses,’ but upon closer inspection, even these geniuses have their weaknesses and limits.

This is common sense that needs no elaborate explanation.

But… to this extent…

A scream finally escaped Chung Myung’s lips.

“Aaagh!”

“…”

“Ouch!”

Chung Myung clutched the grass on the ground tightly enough to crush it. His bloodshot eyes glared at the person holding his ankle.

His fierce gaze was filled with hatred, resentment, and deep-rooted confusion.

Why? Why on earth?

“Hmm…”

Poke!

“Ow!”

Releasing the crushed grass, Chung Myung’s outstretched hand trembled violently.

Through the pain-blurred vision, he saw Yu Iseol. She was relentlessly pushing a long needle into the slightly split wound.

Perfect.

The needle, which was infused with energy to thoroughly remove any contamination, was threaded with Chung Myung’s hair.

There was not a single deviation from what Tang Soso had taught.

Except…

Poke!

“Aaaaah!”

Chung Myung screamed.

“What the! Why are you stabbing next to it when you can clearly see the wound? Why!”

Black hair was stitched awkwardly over Chung Myung’s wound. It was such a mess that even a six-year-old playing with a knife would have been embarrassed.

“Let me do it! Move aside!”

“…I can do it.”

“No, I said I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

“I can manage.”

What on earth can you manage! It’s not a wound from being hit by rock fragments but a wound from being stabbed continuously with a needle, and you’re saying you can manage?

‘This is driving me crazy.’

How is it that the person who can pierce an eye of the needle like a hawk when holding a sword becomes like this when holding a needle?

Look at those trembling hands. Look at that…!

Poke!

“Grk…”

Chung Myung’s eyes rolled back.

A long, painful time passed.

Exhausted, Chung Myung silently looked down at his leg.

Blood was flowing vividly from his ankle, which was wrapped haphazardly in white bandages.

Could that blood really be from the wound caused by the rock fragments?

Chung Myung’s resentful gaze turned to Yu Iseol. His teeth gnashed and his insides boiled, but he couldn’t say anything. On Yu Iseol’s usually indifferent face, there was a faint, recognizable sense of satisfaction that her fellow disciples could barely perceive.

In the end, a sigh of resignation escaped instead of frustration.

And in truth, considering needle pricks, Yu Iseol’s fingertips must have been pricked more than Chung Myung’s ankle. The swollen appearance…

He let out a groan.

“I really don’t get it. Is sewing that hard?”

Though Chung Myung wasn’t good at sewing, it wasn’t this bad. Some might find sewing difficult, but when it comes to precision, Yu Iseol, incomparable to ordinary people, shouldn’t have struggled this much. Not like this.

At that moment, unexpectedly, Yu Iseol provided an answer to that doubt.

“It reminds me.”

“Huh?”

Chung Myung, who was clutching his burning ankle, looked up at Yu Iseol. With a face still hard to read, Yu Iseol calmly elaborated.

“Of the past.”

Chung Myung, not immediately understanding, furrowed his brow slightly.

What does that mean…

But then his eyes widened in realization.

“Ah…”

Mastering the sword wasn’t that difficult. It was just a matter of meticulously following the predetermined sword path.

However, creating a new sword technique is never an easy task. It’s not just a simple challenge – if one aims to develop a new sword technique within a given time, it’s a matter of life and death.

This is because the sword energy doesn’t always go in the predicted direction. The moment the flow of internal energy and the sword path become discordant, the sword becomes a weapon that can harm its master in an instant. Many who have secluded themselves to create new martial arts often never see the light of day again for this very reason.

And Chung Myung knows. He knows the person who attempted that absurd feat. Someone who wasn’t even at the level to create new martial arts, yet dared to craft a sword technique far beyond his abilities.

His eyes fell on Yu Iseol’s swollen fingertips, which now trembled slightly, as if recalling something.

There couldn’t have been a doctor in the deep mountains to treat a father injured while creating a sword technique. The wounds from a sword would typically be cuts, and what would Yu Iseol’s father have done? Moreover, wounds that couldn’t be stitched by oneself had to be stitched by someone else. Probably…

‘…That madman.’

Chung Myung felt a wave of nausea.

Yu Iseol’s father likely had no other choice. It’s not understandable, but it’s also undeniable. Yet still…

Chung Myung’s gaze turned back to Yu Iseol. He recalled once again that despite all this training, Yu Iseol had never once complained or refused.

Each time Yu Iseol was swept away by the memories of the past, the needle would lose its direction and prick her fingers. Yet, even amidst this, she quietly fulfilled her role. And despite the mess, she managed to treat someone.

How could she do that? Why did she have to go to such lengths?

“…You don’t have to do it, do you?”

Chung Myung’s simple question escaped his lips.

It was a question others might not understand, but Yu Iseol would.

“You’re already outstanding without doing this. There’s no need to achieve this as well, right?”

“…”

“Or are you just doing it because you’re told to?”

Yu Iseol, who had been silently meeting his gaze, finally spoke.

“Because it has to be done.”

There was much contained in those words.

It wasn’t just because she was told to. As she said, Yu Iseol had to do it.

No matter how much Tang Soso preached about its necessity, it wasn’t easy for swordsmen who had spent their lives swinging swords to learn how to sew. It’s not that it was difficult – they simply didn’t want to do it.

Especially in a situation like now, with war on the horizon, most would prefer to swing their swords once more rather than spend time on something unfamiliar and hard. Even Tang Gunak thought this way – why would others be any different?

That’s why Baek Cheon took the lead. But the truth is, even Baek Cheon wasn’t enough. Baek Cheon is what the world calls a ‘genius.’ He can handle everything skillfully and doesn’t face the same difficulties others do.

However, Yu Iseol is different. Anyone could see that she had no talent for this task, yet she dedicated herself to sewing until her fingers were swollen. This alone was enough to quell the complaints of others.

Yu Iseol quietly looked at Chung Myung and then spoke.

“And because if you stop trying, you won’t be able to do it.”

“Huh? What do you mean…”

“If you give up because you think you can’t do it.”

Chung Myung, who had been staring blankly, slowly nodded.

She was right. If you give up because it’s hard, unfamiliar, or you can’t master it quickly, you’ll never be able to do it.

This was probably a battle with herself. A trivial and insignificant struggle that no one would notice but was crucial to the person involved, one that only she could resolve.

A sigh escaped from Chung Myung’s lips.

‘She really is strong.’

Yu Iseol is a strong person.

Everyone in Hwasan would acknowledge that. Anyone who had experienced it and fought alongside her would.

The strange thing is that Yu Iseol, despite her strength, harbors deeper wounds than anyone.

At that moment, Yu Iseol scolded Chung Myung in a blunt voice.

“You’re dumb.”

“…Huh?”

“And foolish.”

“…Wait, didn’t we finish earlier? Why are you picking a fight now?”

Chung Myung asked.

“There’s something that must be done,”

Yu Iseol replied.

Chung Myung tilted his head in confusion.

“Huh?”

“No matter what, it has to be done. Even if I get hurt, even if someone else gets hurt, it has to be done. Otherwise, it won’t work. ‘Ultimately,’ it’s the best way.”

“Why?”

Yu Iseol’s gaze turned toward the distant sky.

“That’s what my father did.”

Chung Myung’s fingers twitched.

A deep silence settled between them. Somewhere in the background, the quiet song of insects could be heard.

After a long moment of silence, Chung Myung finally spoke.

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“Your father.”

Yu Iseol’s expression remained unchanged, even though it was a question that even Chung Myung asked with caution.

“I was angry.”

“…”

“I was sad, frustrated, couldn’t stand to look at him, but still wanted to see him.”

Her quiet reflections spilled out.

Chung Myung nodded silently. Of course. How could one possibly explain all those complex emotions?

For young Yu Iseol, her father was everything. But that everything ruined her. If Hyun Jong hadn’t saved her, what would have become of Yu Iseol’s life?

What her father ruined, Hyun Jong saved.

To Chung Myung, Yu Iseol was like a thorn stuck in his finger. Even when forgotten in moments of peace, it would prick and throb from time to time.

“Now…”

Yu Iseol’s gaze drifted somewhere to the east. Perhaps her father was buried there somewhere.

“I just feel sorry for him.”

“…”

Chung Myung fell into deep thought, questioning himself.

What would have been the right thing for Yu Iseol’s father to do?

He couldn’t understand her father, but he couldn’t entirely condemn his way of life either. Chung Myung knew that if placed in the same situation, he would likely embrace such a way of life without hesitation.

As Yu Iseol said, there was no other way. Even if it demanded sacrifices, it had to be done.

As his thoughts reached this point, nausea surged within him.

The nausea he felt when thinking of Yu Iseol’s father might be a reflection of his feelings toward himself. The self-loathing for acknowledging that while he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t reject it – for considering it horrific yet sympathizing with it nonetheless.

“You’re different. You are,”

Yu Iseol suddenly spoke, somewhat out of the blue.

Chung Myung stared blankly at Yu Iseol. She shook her head slowly, as if she understood what he was thinking.

“No. It will be different.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s me.”

At that moment, Chung Myung saw it – a faint curve of a smile forming on her otherwise resolutely set lips. It was a rare smile, likely intended to reassure him.

She is strong.

In Chung Myung’s eyes, Yu Iseol was the strongest person in the world. Far stronger than himself, who only pretended to be strong on the outside.

But that’s why a deep question arose within him.

Could she really manage it?

Was she strong because she had endured all those experiences?

No, that couldn’t be the case.

Chung Myung knew better than anyone that while wounds can sometimes make a person stronger, continuous and fatal wounds can break a person to the point of no return.

Perhaps Yu Iseol was currently in an extremely desperate state.

Because she had to be. Yes, just as she said, she had to be.

But what if…

What happens when she no longer needs to be strong? Or, what if she fails to protect what she has been trying to with that strength… What will happen to Yu Iseol then?

Would she still be able to stand before Chung Myung with the same expression if her world were to shatter once more?

“Sago. You…”

At that very moment, a voice suddenly interrupted.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Chung Myung quickly turned around.

Approaching them was Namgung Dowi.

“Commander is looking for you, General.”

Chung Myung had a gut feeling.

From the moment he saw the stern expression on Namgung Dowi’s face… No, even before hearing the unusually serious tone in his voice.

Or perhaps it was even earlier. Perhaps it was when he unknowingly felt that the current situation seemed more peaceful than it should be.

Namgung Dowi’s low voice pierced his ears.

“Sapaeryeon… has moved.”

Cold blood surged from Chung Myung’s heart and coursed through his entire body.