Chapter 577: Because They Looked So Worn Out
Chapter 577: Because They Looked So Worn Out
When Geom Mu-geuk opened the window of his guest room, a draft of cold air rushed in. A hazy dawn mist drifted through the alleyway in front of the inn.
He had just emerged from a session of the Space-Time Displacement Technique that he had entered the previous evening. While only four shijin—eight hours—had passed in the outside world, he had actually spent two full days training. His steadily progressing Time Heaven Secret Technique now provided him with six times more time than reality.
For two days, he had exhausted his internal energy, recovered it, and pushed himself to the brink again and again. He had lost count of how many evil ghosts had manifested and vanished in the process.
At the end of his training, he had manifested a space within the Space-Time Displacement Technique solely for himself. He had conjured a hot spring amidst a snowy plain, where rising steam created a dreamlike atmosphere. Soaking his body there had washed away the fatigue of two days of grueling, continuous cultivation.
Truly, he had repeated the Nine Calamities Demonic Art so many times that he felt as if the evil ghosts might pop out from the steam, complaining that they wanted to soak their weary bones as well.
He could feel it coming. His Seventh-Star Nine Calamities Demonic Art was on the verge of ascending to the next level.
The experience and insights gained from his battle with the Dark King, combined with the realizations found while reinterpreting the forms of the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique, were causing his martial realm to stir and writhe.
This experience—reinterpreting the Sword King’s own reinterpretation—had granted him an unexpectedly special enlightenment. Never before had he worked alongside a master of the Sword King’s caliber to redefine the martial arts of a mere hall.
‘I have to keep this going.’
He could feel that this collaborative work with the Sword King would bring him great achievement.
Just then, the window of the adjacent room opened, and someone poked their head out.
“Aren’t you sleeping?” It was Lee An.
“What about you?”
“I was practicing my mental method, and before I knew it, time had flown by.”
She could sense that the current atmosphere was far from ordinary. An enemy who made even Geom Mu-geuk—the man who stood above all these fledglings—tense had appeared. How could she possibly sleep?
“Training is good, but sleep is important too.”
“Look who’s talking.”
She knew that Geom Mu-geuk always trained until the break of dawn. Of course, since he practiced quietly in his room, she assumed he was merely working on his mental methods. She had no idea how many flashes of sword qi and sword force were raging in the room right next to hers.
“I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead!”
Geom Mu-geuk smiled faintly at her words.
‘You’ve already slept plenty.’
So, stay awake in this life. Until you grow old and become a white-haired grandmother, stay awake and look at the world with those beautiful eyes.
A white-haired Lee An would surely age beautifully. Would they still be able to stand side-by-side like this, looking at the world together then?
“That man… he’s strong, isn’t he?” Lee An asked about the Sword King for the first time.
Geom Mu-geuk nodded honestly.
“How strong?”
“Have you ever seen a true master who goes barefoot?”
“No.”
“He’s exactly that strong.”
She understood he meant the man was a uniquely exceptional master, but Lee An spoke as if it were no big deal.
“Well, I suppose that’s fine then. You aren’t exactly lacking when it comes to being ‘unique’ yourself, Young Master.” As she spoke, she tapped her left chest twice. “If anyone wants to pierce your heart, they’ll have to pierce two of them, not just one.”
Geom Mu-geuk laughed at her half-joking, half-serious remark. However, his gaze toward her deepened. What she had just said was something she had already experienced in a past life.
“Is this the advantage of having two hearts?”
“Just trust me!”
“Your heart must never be pierced. I’m going to sleep now, putting all my faith in that heart of yours.”
“Sleep well—enough for the both of us.”
Of course, in Geom Mu-geuk’s mind, the order was reversed. To pierce her heart, they would have to pierce his first. His heart would never be pierced to the point where a blade could reach Lee An’s. All this effort was to ensure such a moment never came to pass.
While Lee An gazed at the stars in the dawn sky, a silent, fierce battle—one where the earth split and cliffs crumbled—was raging once again in the room next door.
*
The Sword King showed up for class on time the next day as well. He had even prepared the next three forms of the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique.
“Now, today I shall teach you the fourth through the sixth forms.”
What on earth does this man want?
The thought naturally occurred to Geom Mu-geuk as he watched him, but he could at least understand why the man was teaching the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique again. The Sword King’s gaze toward him said as much:
— Let’s go another round.
He had lost yesterday’s reinterpretation. He had admitted that the form Geom Mu-geuk reinterpreted was superior. That was why he was challenging him again today.
— No matter how much you use my work as a foundation, you won’t be able to make this reinterpretation any better.
Geom Mu-geuk replied with his eyes.
‘Fine. Even if we end up killing each other later, let’s enjoy ourselves for now.’
They both knew instinctively. As martial artists, encountering such an opponent was a chance that might come only once in a lifetime.
The Sword King demonstrated the fourth through sixth forms. The students watching him whispered to one another.
“What is that?”
“It’s different from yesterday.”
“He’s just doing whatever he wants.”
The interpretation the Sword King displayed today was entirely different. Yesterday, his Yellow Dragon Sword Technique had been as soft and fluid as water. It had almost looked like a dance.
But today, it was indifferent. There was no other way to describe it but ‘indifferent.’ He swung the sword nonchalantly. He walked forward with heavy thuds and gave a blunt thrust. The movements flowed as if he were merely kicking a pebble off the ground.
Of course, the students could not grasp the profound essence of martial arts embedded in each move, so to them, it looked like another half-hearted demonstration.
Geom Mu-geuk, on the other hand, took off his shoes and followed the forms exactly, barefoot. Seeing this, the students frowned even more. They had already thought his offer to be a shield for Lee An and Seo Jin was a ploy to get in their good graces; now, they assumed he was training barefoot just to suck up to the instructor.
“Shouldn’t we call the seniors from the Black Dragon Squad to teach him a lesson?”
“He’s really an eyesore.”
Some even began to exchange such whispers. Of course, not all the students felt that way. Yu Gwang and Gyo Seok were following along diligently. Gyo Seok did it because of his friend, and Yu Gwang did it because of Lee An. Since Lee An was following so earnestly, he couldn't just stand by.
“Do you like that woman that much?”
When Gyo Seok shook his head, Yu Gwang shook his even more vigorously. “It’s not because of that.”
“Then why?”
“Lately, I’ve been so anxious I can’t even sleep. But whenever I look at Miss Lee, I feel at peace. Strangely, all my anxiety vanishes. There’s something about her.”
“It’s just because she’s pretty.”
“I told you, it’s not!”
Yu Gwang tried his best to follow the movements. Gyo Seok followed along as well, acting as if he were being forced. Though he constantly nagged his friend to stop daydreaming, he knew Yu Gwang had a special intuition.
And so, the second day of class ended.
Geom Mu-geuk and the Sword King met again at the same spot they had met the day before. Watching Geom Mu-geuk perform the martial art, the Sword King wore a satisfied smile. Yesterday, the boy had reinterpreted what he taught, but today, he was performing it exactly as instructed.
“Your reinterpretation of these forms today was perfect, Instructor. It would be disrespectful to ruin such excellent forms just out of a petty desire to win, wouldn't it?”
When he honestly admitted defeat, the Sword King let out a sigh.
“Why are you sighing when I’ve admitted I lost?”
“Because you admitted it so cleanly.” Then, unexpected words flowed from his lips. “A Young Cult Leader like you is a rarity in the history of the Demonic Cult. It’s only natural to sigh when I have to kill a man blessed by the heavens with my own hands.”
He was still brimming with the confidence that he could kill Geom Mu-geuk.
“The one who dies will be you, Instructor. Just like your comrades who died by my hand before.”
It was the first time he had mentioned the other Twelve Zodiac Kings. He wondered how the man would react.
“Comrades? Who are my comrades?”
The Sword King did not consider the fallen Twelve Zodiac Kings his comrades. In fact, the man, who was always composed, showed displeasure for the first time at being placed on the same level as them.
“I’ll show you my comrades.”
In the next instant, the Sword King released his aura. It was the first time he had revealed his true pressure since they met.
Sssssss.
The entire surroundings began to shimmer. At a glance, it looked like jewels sparkling in the sunlight. But it wasn't. They were all sword blades.
Blades protruded from the walls, the floor, the ceiling—everywhere. There were hundreds, thousands of them. The entire space was so densely packed with blades that it felt as if one would be cut by merely shifting an inch.
When Geom Mu-geuk turned his head to the side, a blade was pointed right at his face. Another protruded from the opposite side. There were blades in front of him and above his head. Geom Mu-geuk reached out and touched a blade.
Slice.
His finger was cut, and blood flowed. The aura was so sharp that it had physically cut his finger. Of course, it was also because he hadn't deployed his Body Protection Qi.
Through the shimmering blades, he could see the Sword King in the distance.
“How are my friends?”
He meant that only swords were his friends.
In this place filled with such loneliness, where on earth are your friends?
Geom Mu-geuk smiled pleasantly and spoke to him. “You have so many friends that there’s no room for me to squeeze in.”
Whether he liked the answer or not, the Sword King laughed along with him.
Shhh.
As the Sword King’s aura vanished, the surrounding swords disappeared in an instant.
“Later, before you die, would you do me one favor?”
Geom Mu-geuk could feel it. The reason the Sword King had appeared before him and was so leisurely exchanging lessons might have been to ask this very favor.
“Very well. I shall grant your favor before I kill you, Instructor.” Of course, he didn't just give a simple promise. “In exchange, please grant me a favor as well. I shall tell you mine right here and now.”
“Speak.”
“Please continue to reinterpret the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique until the very last form. Let us keep our wager going.”
A look of doubt naturally crossed the Sword King’s face. “No matter how well I reinterpret it, it’s a martial art you have no use for, isn't it?”
“I have three reasons.”
“As many as three?”
“First, I find this wager very enjoyable.”
He believed the Sword King felt the same. If not, they wouldn't be standing here having this conversation.
“Second, there is someone I wish to pass this completed martial art to.”
And finally.
“This is just a hunch, but I feel like my martial realm will ascend by the time this process is over.”
And yet you’re asking me to teach you? The Sword King asked with a smile, his expression incredulous. “Where on earth did you learn this shameless level of honesty?”
“From people who aren't tedious. Those people didn't use my honesty as a weakness.”
A strange emotion flickered across the Sword King’s face. Yesterday, as they parted, he had said it himself—that there were too many tedious people in this Murim.
“Didn't we meet as student and instructor? Since fate has brought us together like this, I want to learn everything I can.”
Though it was surely not an easy request to grant, the Sword King’s hesitation did not last long.
“I suppose I can’t refuse if I want to remain a man who isn't tedious. Fine, I’ll grant your request.”
“Thank you.”
As the Sword King turned to leave, he suddenly asked, “What if the favor I ask of you is one you cannot grant?”
Geom Mu-geuk replied with a smile and an apologetic expression. “That’s why I’m asking mine first, isn't it?”
*
Even though Geom Mu-geuk had essentially told him he intended to get stronger and kill him if necessary, the Sword King kept his promise and taught him every last form of the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique. It was something that hadn't been planned when he first took the job as a temporary instructor.
Some days, Geom Mu-geuk’s reinterpretation was better; other days, the Sword King’s was superior. Sometimes they combined their ideas to complement each other, and other times they created something entirely new. The forms flowed like water, blew like the wind, surged like scorching flames, and on some days, struck like lightning.
It was as if the two were playing a game of Go, move by move. It was a pastime that would never come again in their lives, as well as a battle of pride.
The students sensed that something was happening, but they couldn't pinpoint exactly what. None of them possessed the depth of martial insight required to grasp the essence of what was unfolding.
On the day the final form of the Yellow Dragon Sword Technique was taught, the martial art was reborn in a new, completed state. The forms the two had completed were different. Though they had influenced each other endlessly, they had reached different interpretations in the end. While they had been burning with competitive spirit during the process, once it was over, neither cared who had won more rounds.
Geom Mu-geuk held out something wrapped to the Sword King.
“What is this?”
“A gift.”
“A gift of death? Will Formless Poison spread the moment I open it?”
“My wrapping is far too clumsy for it to be that.”
The Sword King unwrapped the package. Inside was something he truly hadn't expected. It was a pair of shoes.
“Because they looked so worn out.”
For the first time, a look of bewilderment crossed the Sword King’s eyes. But soon, he turned the shoes over and shook them, as if checking for hidden weapons inside.
“Why are you giving me this?”
To the curious man, Geom Mu-geuk spoke honestly. “My martial arts have reached the Eighth Star.”
The turbulent realm of his Nine Calamities Demonic Art had finally ascended to the Eighth Star the previous night. Geom Mu-geuk had been overjoyed by the increased power of the art. He had reached the Eighth Star in the shortest time of any Cult Leader in history.
Despite it being news he should fear and be wary of, the Sword King laughed brightly instead.
“Why are you laughing? Aren't you worried?”
“It’s more prideful to defeat an Eighth Star than a Seventh, and if I lose, it’s less embarrassing to lose to an Eighth Star than a Seventh, isn't it?”
Geom Mu-geuk could feel it with certainty. Facing this man would be more difficult than facing the Combat King and the Dark King combined—in every sense of the word.
The two stared at each other in silence. The Sword King asked with a calm gaze, “You’ve become stronger, so why are you offering me shoes instead of a sword?”
Geom Mu-geuk faced him with honesty until the very end.
“I suppose I want to become even stronger.”