The Worn Training Log

Under the noon sun, dust rose across the training ground. Do Gyeom stood rigid and threw the old training log at Cha Yeonho's feet. The paper fluttered through the air and landed against the toe of his shoe. Do Gyeom cracked his knuckles and let out a ragged breath.

"Senior, what exactly are you afraid of, that you have to make even my victory uncertain? Do you want my win to be some sandcastle built out of your pity? Or do you just want to watch the tower I built myself come crashing down?"

Cha Yeonho didn't pick up the paper. Instead he pressed hard on his left thumb and hid it behind his back. Numbness climbed from his fingertip up to his elbow.

"My doubt isn't about your skill. I'm asking where the flow of power in this training ground is heading right now, and who ends up carrying the backlash at the end of it."

Do Gyeom pulled the wooden sword from his waist and drove it into the ground with a crack. The dull impact broke the silence.

"Then I'll take it the same way. That noble sharing of responsibility you showed at the settlement ceremony, whatever it was, let's split the cost of my victory the same way, half and half. That way there's nothing left to doubt, is there. Hand it over to me too."

Do Gyeom held out his bare hand. At that moment, An Sobin walked out from a corner of the training ground with a faint groan. She was gripping her right index finger tightly with her left hand. The tip of her finger was swollen unevenly.

"Senior, I'm not... I'm not doubting Senior Do's victory. But senior, the pain in my fingertip started before the settlement ceremony. Actually, long before that."

Do Gyeom froze and turned to look at An Sobin. She kept her head down and held her fingertip out toward Yeonho.

"Every time I received a transmission, the seniors said they were letting power flow into me, and they left backlash marks on my fingertips. I thought that was just part of getting stronger. But as time passed, my fingers kept losing feeling. The reversal stone breaking at today's settlement ceremony wasn't just because the power was too much. It was because my fingertips were already carrying a weight they couldn't bear."

Yeonho carefully took An Sobin's hand in his. Her fingertips had gone cold. Do Gyeom's face hardened.

"You said you'd take it the same way, Do Gyeom. Behind your victory are layers of injuries from people who couldn't speak up, just like Sobin here. If you truly want to prove your skill, then put the numbers on this paper up for open verification first. If you can lay bare the trail of backlash that's built up in your joints every time you've won, and the needle marks from the treatments pumped into your side to pay for it, then I'll hand over my authority as senior disciple to you."

Do Gyeom's eyebrows twitched. He faltered at the demand to expose his own shame, but then clenched his jaw and made a fist.

"Fine. If I win, I'll put all my training records under audit rights immediately. But if you lose the match, you accept my demand completely. I protect my own body with my own sword. I don't need your protection."

By afternoon the sparring ground had turned cold. The two faced each other holding matched wooden swords. Yeonho breathed in deep to minimize the backlash and scattered the air gathered in his dantian. Do Gyeom charged in roughly. His sword cut through the air and swung in horizontally. Yeonho pivoted on his heel, turning his body halfway, and let the force flow past him.

"Faster, I have to move faster to clear away that tedious doubt of yours!"

Do Gyeom shouted and swung his sword. His breath was climbing toward his throat. Yeonho aimed for the point where his opponent's inhale broke off. Every time the tip of the sword grazed his shoulder, Yeonho felt the pain of his wrist ligament pulling. He drew his center of gravity back. Do Gyeom's sword tore his sleeve but didn't land a deep hit on his body. Yeonho didn't miss the way his opponent's right shoulder muscle trembled like a spasm.

"This ends now."

Do Gyeom roared and brought his sword down vertically. Yeonho slipped in behind the flat of the blade and twisted his wrist. Do Gyeom staggered. As he forced himself to hold his ground, a dry cracking sound came from his side. Do Gyeom's face went pale. He clutched his side and dropped to his knees. Yeonho reached for his shoulder, but Do Gyeom shook off his hand roughly.

"Not yet. This isn't over. One more round, one more round and I..."

Do Gyeom pushed back his sweat soaked hair and stood up. But his breathing was twisted. Yeonho sensed instantly that the pain he was enduring wasn't a simple muscle tear, but the result of backlash accumulated over a long time. He led Do Gyeom to the bench behind him.

"Don't move anymore. Your meridians are already twisted. Do you think you won? No. You're just wearing your own body down while standing still."

Yeonho looked down at his own left hand. The numbness in his fingertips made the hand holding the wooden sword tremble. He showed Do Gyeom his scarred palm and the calloused knuckles.

"I'm no different from you. This is the reality of the sect you were trying to protect. On the surface it's the splendid sword of the transmission seat, but underneath, we've all been covering each other's injuries while they fester."

Do Gyeom looked at Yeonho's hand and said nothing. Far off, Baek Miryeong stood leaning against the doorway of the medical room, watching them. Yeonho supported Do Gyeom and headed for the medical room. Instead of "senior disciple," Do Gyeom murmured "Senior Cha" under his breath. It wasn't surrender. It was the first acknowledgment that he'd accept Yeonho's proposal.

Inside the medical room, the smell of herbal medicine hung thick. Baek Miryeong had needles and medicinal decoctions laid out and was writing something into a log.

"Sit down. The backlash trails are a mess. Both of you were one step from your bones coming apart."

Do Gyeom sat and clenched his jaw. Yeonho handed Baek Miryeong the inspection sheet for his left hand. After a long silence, she picked up a brush and wrote Cha Yeonho's name at the bottom of the log.

"I'm registering this as an official audit record. Starting tomorrow, every disciple receiving transmission in this sect must record their own injury history directly in the ledger. Anyone who refuses will have their transmission rights revoked and be ordered into three days of confinement."

Baek Miryeong's words were cold. Do Gyeom kept his head down and endured her hands as she applied needles to his side. Yeonho watched the sun setting through the window. At that moment, the medical room door burst open. The settlement hall elder came in gasping for breath and set a copy of a branch ledger down on the table.

"Cha Yeonho, there's no time for sentiment. This ledger's value outweighs your honor and cuts sharper than my authority. If you don't trade it right now for the original with the elders' signatures on it, this copy is worthless. Choose."

Yeonho looked down at the ledger. In the corner, two dots were stamped, identical to the mark Sobin used. He rubbed his left hand. He looked in turn at the ledger the elder held out, at Baek Miryeong's medical record, and at Do Gyeom sitting beside him with his jaw clenched. Just as Yeonho reached for the edge of the ledger, heavy footsteps sounded outside the medical room. Choi Yul's voice filled the corridor.

"The transmission seat cannot be moved without the sect leader's seal. Cha Yeonho, I know exactly what you're trying to do. Stop."

Choi Yul burst in. In his hand was the sect leader's private order for corrective action. Yeonho didn't block his arm. He only confirmed that Choi Yul's gaze had landed on the red dot on the ledger. Choi Yul's pupils shook. He already knew what that mark meant. Yeonho spoke to him in a low voice.

"See for yourself whether this ledger is something that can be corrected privately, or whether it's grounds for the annihilation of the entire sect. Elder, will you leave a name for future generations by keeping this ledger covered up, or will you use it as evidence to cleanse this sect."

Yeonho pushed the ledger against Choi Yul's chest. Choi Yul's hand shook as he took it. The sect leader had left the head seat empty and stayed silent, and by putting the ledger into Choi Yul's hands, Yeonho had placed him on the judgment stone of choice. Choi Yul's face went pale before he could even look at the ledger. Do Gyeom watched this and stepped back behind Yeonho. Yeonho stood up without waiting for Choi Yul's answer.

"Elder Choi Yul, right now, while the ledger is in your hands, this is the chance. There isn't time to wait for the sect leader's seal."

At Yeonho's firm words, Choi Yul bit his lip. He held the ledger close to his chest and closed the door instead of walking out. The commotion of disciples outside gradually quieted. Choi Yul looked at Yeonho and spoke low.

"By noon tomorrow. Verify every number in this ledger by then. If even one of them is false, you'll forfeit your transmission seat, and everyone in this room will have to answer with their heads."

Choi Yul opened the door and left. Yeonho nodded to Baek Miryeong. She quietly closed the medical room door and threw the bolt. Do Gyeom was still clutching his side, but for the first time he didn't look away from Yeonho's eyes. Yeonho opened the ledger once more. The small dots stamped beside the young disciples' names stood out clearly. The dots Sobin had thought resembled a herb sorting mark, stamped at the same intervals on Taeram's wall chart too. Yeonho rubbed his left hand. The pain hadn't faded, but now he understood clearly that it was a cost. He turned to the first page of the document. Three days of audit rights, that wasn't simply an extension of time, it was the only blade that could cut out the deep rot at the root of the Hoeryu Sect. Yeonho looked at Sobin and Gyeom and made up his mind. Restoring these records, and returning the responsibility to the ones who held the transmission seats. That was the reason he had returned, and the heaviest cost he would have to pay in this lifetime. He pressed his left thumb against the edge of the ledger's page. The rough texture of the paper caught against his fingertip. Yeonho took the pen Baek Miryeong handed him and wrote his name at the bottom of the ledger. Beside it, Baek Miryeong's signature was stamped in turn. Now it was an official record that couldn't be undone. Yeonho stood up and opened the window. Moonlight poured into the medical room. He gripped the windowsill and drew the night air in deep.

"Starting tomorrow, it's war. But this time, I won't carry it alone."