Chapter 102: Nice to Meet You, Kid (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 102: Nice to Meet You, Kid (3)
I rubbed my neck, my body still frozen from the phantom pain of an imagined stab wound.
Was that really just his way of saying hello?
As an assassin who danced with death daily, my instincts for danger were razor-sharp. I couldn’t have been mistaken—what I felt was the genuine touch of death itself. In just two steps, I had died countless times in my mind.
Is this his aura? Or am I hallucinating from being overwhelmed?
Me, Nachal… pressured by a mere child?
I once served under the legendary Dark King himself, as part of his personal cadre of assassins. Even after pledging myself to the Black Palace, my skills were respected purely because of that pedigree. In the art of assassination, rank and realm mattered little—what counted was the swiftness of the ambush, the lethality of the strike. It was the same for poison masters. I had always believed that, with preparation, I could kill martial artists far beyond my level.
So what is happening now?
I forced my breathing to steady as I stared at Gu Yangcheon. Prodigy or not, he was still a first-rate martial artist. True power began only after breaking through to the peak realm—a state where one shattered their limits and unlocked endless potential. The qi of a peak master wasn’t just greater in quantity; it was fundamentally superior in quality. They wielded it with finesse and insight I could only dream of.
I had reached the peak realm myself, a rare feat for an assassin. Yet here I was, being suppressed by a child.
“What did you do…?” I demanded.
Gu Yangcheon stood motionless, sword in hand, ignoring me completely.
“I asked you a question!”
The boy remained silent, unshaken, his gaze locked on me. Earlier, he had introduced himself as “Shincheol.”
What does that mean?
I turned it over in my mind but found no answer. Another mind game, no doubt. According to our intelligence, Gu Yangcheon was a bare-handed fighter, like the Tiger Warrior—a fact he had demonstrated moments ago. So why was he holding a sword now?
Is he pretending to be a swordsman? Trying to lure me into carelessness?
It was too late for that. He had already shown his hand. The Gu Clan trained in both fist and sword, true, but there was no indication he had mastered the blade. Even a genius couldn’t excel at two completely different disciplines simultaneously.
The proof was in his posture—riddled with openings. When he fought with his fists, his movements were seamless. Now, with a sword, he looked amateurish, as though a random thrust could end him.
But… true masters transcended form. Their martial art became an extension of their being. How they looked hardly mattered. The Lord of the Black Palace was like that. So was the Dark King.
Could this child be on that level?
Preposterous. The thought itself is laughable.
I hadn’t reached such heights—how could a child even glimpse them? Yet, why couldn’t I move?
“Greenhorn.”
I flinched at Gu Yangcheon’s voice.
“Your posture broke from fear. Fix it.”
“You…!” Rage boiled inside me. A child, speaking to me like a master to a disciple?
“How dare you… A mere child lecturing me?”
“Hehe… Even the smallest leaf holds meaning. Greenhorn, you’ve already lost the fundamentals of what it means to be a martial artist.”
“Silence! I’ve humored your little act long enough—know your place!”
It was a weak taunt, the kind that shouldn’t affect a cold-blooded assassin. Yet, absurdly, it shook me. Annoyed by my own reaction, I circulated my qi.
Don’t fall for his tricks. He’s just provoking you.
Once my breathing steadied, I channeled energy into my dagger. Gu Yangcheon simply watched, unnervingly calm. His chest was exposed—his heart, my target. With qi surging through my legs, my speed would be more than enough.
I had to finish this before sunrise.
But as I prepared to strike—
“There’s something I used to tell the youngsters back in the day.”
My body froze at his words.
Huh…?
It wasn’t shock—my movement was physically sealed. Not by qi suppression, but something else.
“When rage clouds the mind, the sword reflects its turmoil.”
Gu Yangcheon’s gaze drifted to the fallen swordsmen of Mount Hua strewn across the ground.
“And when that happens, the plum blossoms that have bloomed are returned to the soil by the Heavens. It takes them a very long time to bloom again.”
His eyes seemed hollow, his words laden with unspoken regret.
“And yet, this old man raged more fiercely than anyone when fighting those blood-soaked demons. Ironic, isn’t it? To abandon one’s own teachings and still cling to so many regrets.”
“What… What nonsense are you spouting?”
Was he insane? None of his words made sense.
“It’s fine if you don’t understand.”
—Rustle.
“Just the ramblings of a pathetic old man.”
“What…?”
Something fluttered down in front of me. The ceiling was solid stone—nothing should be falling.
I looked down. A plum blossom leaf lay on the ground. It crumbled to dust the moment my eyes fell upon it.
“What are you…?”
I looked back at Gu Yangcheon, but there was nothing around him. Had I imagined it?
—Crack—!
Am I hallucinating?
Confusion swept over me; I no longer felt like myself. Gritting my teeth, I felt the paralysis break. My movements were fluid again. No more hesitation.
I enveloped myself in qi and shot toward Gu Yangcheon like an arrow. My target: his heart. The boy finally reacted, but too slowly.
It was a bluff after all.
His sword moved clumsily, its path clear. At this speed, my dagger would pierce his heart before his swing even began.
But just as I thrust—
—Splatter—!
A sickening sound echoed, and blood sprayed through the air. Something flew past me and hit the ground.
“Ughhhhh…!!”
I screamed, collapsing to my knees. Clutching my shoulder, I looked back with trembling eyes. My arm—still gripping the dagger—lay severed on the floor.
“What the…!”
I was certain my speed surpassed his. So how was I the one who lost an arm?
—Rustle.
“…!”
That sound again, teasing my ears. More plum blossom leaves. Where were they coming from?
—Rustle…—
As I stared at the leaves drifting down, one by one, I realized something was terribly wrong.
* * *
[What the hell?]
When I woke up, I found myself in a bizarre situation. I was holding a sword, and that Nachal guy was on the ground, missing an arm.
[Did I black out again, like when I fought Ya Hyeoljeok?]
You’re awake.
[…Huh?]
Had I just heard a voice in my head?
[Elder Shin…?]
Right. It’s been a while.
[What are you doing right now…?]
I tried to move, but I couldn’t even twitch a finger. My body was no longer mine.
Stop struggling. I’ll return it soon.
[What in the world is happening?]
What does it look like? I’m saving you.
[But you said you couldn’t possess my body before.]
He’d clearly told me to calm down and that possession wasn’t possible. If this wasn’t possession, what was it?
Elder Shin responded, sounding almost surprised himself.
…I know. I didn’t expect it to work, but it did.
[You crazy—]
Tsk, it seems I can’t maintain this for long, nor do it often. Just stay still for a bit!
“Ugh…!” Nachal stumbled to his feet, putting distance between us.
“Huff… Huff…!”
“You’re tougher than you look.”
“…You were hiding your true strength all along…!”
“…I can’t believe you’re saying that. I’m a bit disappointed…”
Elder Shin merely slashed the air with the sword, but I could feel the intent behind the movement.
Pay close attention to this sensation. Consider it a lesson.
I didn’t need to ask what he meant. Even without control, I could feel the energy flowing through my body—a strange, tickling sensation as he wielded only the Taoist qi among all the energies I had accumulated.
Thanks to the qi you absorbed from the treasure, I have no trouble using the sword.
He wasn’t using the Gu Clan’s Flame Arts I was familiar with. I watched Nachal, who was breathing heavily in the distance. Elder Shin had overpowered him using my body and a sliver of Taoist qi.
Bare-handed styles had their power, but they didn’t truly shine until one reached a high level. I had been relying on brute force, expending qi recklessly to cover my weaknesses. I never realized sword arts could be this refined…
Elder Shin clicked his tongue in frustration.
You have a bad habit of using too much qi. Be efficient. Use only what you need. Even with the wasteful nature of your Flame Art, you’re still overdoing it.
Summoning flames required a lot of qi—it was how I’d always done it. I had no solution for the problem.
Don’t make excuses like “I had no choice.” You won’t have that luxury when you hit a wall later.
[…Why are you lecturing me all of a sudden?]
Because I’m frustrated! I thought you were just a talented kid, but you’re a man who reached a respectable level in the future—and yet you’re rotting away right now.
[…!]
My heart skipped a beat. Did I hear him right?
[What did you just…]
I know you came from a different time.
My heart plummeted at his words.