Chapter 364: Gathering of the Orthodox Faction (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 364: Gathering of the Orthodox Faction (5)
Damn…
Shock was my first reaction.
I couldn’t help it.
Swoosh…
The aura radiating from Bi Eejin was overwhelmingly powerful.
…What is this?
As far as I knew, Bi Eejin was only at the Peak Realm. No matter how skilled he was at concealing his identity, he shouldn’t have been able to hide his true martial level.
Then how is this possible?
Shiver.
My fingertips trembled—not from fear, but from the sheer pressure of his presence. It wasn’t fear; it was the effect of being engulfed by his aura. His energy began to overshadow mine, and it felt different from ordinary Qi or killing intent.
Through years of martial cultivation and enlightenment, a master’s essence seeps into their very soul. That presence becomes their vessel—a hidden force only revealed by choice. And Bi Eejin was choosing to reveal his to me.
To be honest, it felt like standing before an impenetrable wall.
So this is what one of the Three Venerables is like…
Even with a body weakened by time, he remained one of the three strongest martial artists in the Central Plains. The master of close combat loomed like a peak I could never hope to scale.
“Child.”
Bi Eejin’s voice had changed. It was deeper now, stripped of its earlier rhythm and charm. The smile had vanished from his face. Though he stood before me unchanged, he felt like an entirely different person.
“When did you notice?”
“It hasn’t been that long,” I lied.
In truth, I’d known since the day we met—and I knew about the poor state he was in. But I had no reason to lay all my cards on the table.
Even his gait had shifted. The change was subtle, but to a trained eye, it spoke volumes.
How is such a thing possible?
A martial artist’s movements are shaped by their training. From the way they walk, you can discern whether they specialize in close combat or the sword. Bi Eejin’s movements weren’t drastically different from those of other close-combat experts, yet to me, the distinction was clear.
Did that mean he was now moving as Bijuu, the Dishonored Venerable, and not as Bi Eejin, the Dragon Warrior?
Bijuu’s black eyes fixed on me—an endless abyss, cold and depthless. It was a different kind of chill from what I’d felt from the Dark King.
“Does anyone else know about this, besides you?”
The Dishonored Venerable didn’t challenge my claim. Though I’d spoken with certainty, I hadn’t expected him to concede so easily.
“No one else.”
“I see.”
He took a seat on a nearby rock, and even that simple motion felt alien compared to Bi Eejin’s usual noble elegance. None of that grace remained.
So he was controlling even those mannerisms.
He wasn’t just altering his movements—he was suppressing his habits, his personality, regulating every action with flawless precision. It made me wonder if such perfect control was even possible.
“It would’ve been a lot messier if you’d told anyone else.”
“I see…”
Mid-sentence, the Dishonored Venerable shifted position and gave me a strange look. All the while, his overwhelming presence remained.
Struggling to keep my nerves in check, I waited as he asked, “How did you find out?”
He wanted to know how I’d uncovered his true identity. Even after my regression, I remembered how he’d nearly killed me when he revealed himself as the Dishonored Venerable. Obviously, I couldn’t tell him that, so I fell back on the excuse I’d prepared.
“It was my intuition.”
“…What?”
He stared at me, speechless. His confusion was understandable—my answer was absurd.
“Intuition? Did you just say intuition?”
“Yes. It was int—”
“Child.”
The Dishonored Venerable rose from the rock. I nearly bolted on instinct.
His posture had shifted. Despite being at the Peak Realm, the weight of his Combat Qi was extraordinary.
“You probably know this, but I do regard you favorably.”
I did know. The Dishonored Venerable was fond of me, and I knew it was because of my talent.
What an annoying reason.
In other words, if I hadn’t been gifted, he wouldn’t have spared me a second glance. Obvious, perhaps—but in this world, talent was everything.
I often wondered where I stood among my peers. Reaching the Peak Realm before twenty was impressive enough, but I’d gone further—I’d reached the Fusion Realm. If that ever got out, the world would label me a genius for the history books.
How bothersome.
The thought alone gave me goosebumps. Back when I was a naive, delusional kid, I’d dreamed of being called a genius. Every martial artist fantasizes about it at least once. Everyone dreams of becoming the Zenith.
It would make for an inspiring story—if I ever made it that far.
But the problem is, I don’t have that much time.
I’d only reached the Fusion Realm at this age because of my regression. I couldn’t afford to forget where I came from. I’d let myself slip for a moment, and look what happened just a few days ago.
“That’s also the reason why I didn’t break you apart even after you found out about my identity.”
…Such violent words.
“Break apart” sounded more terrifying than death. In a way, that tone suited the Dishonored Venerable perfectly.
He remained perfectly still, staring at me without so much as a twitch. His gaze urged me to keep talking. If I didn’t, things would turn physical.
All I could do was sigh.
Whether it’s him or other people, there seriously isn’t anyone normal.
Then again, masters probably reached their level through obsessive dedication. This world was clearly not meant for someone as gentle and soft-hearted as me.
“If you can’t give an explanati—”
“Did you not spar with me on the day of the entrance exam?” I cut in.
Honestly, this was the scariest part. The Dishonored Venerable shot me an unpleasant look but let it slide, silently urging me to continue.
“I realized it back then. I figured out that you were the Dishonored Venerable himself, not his disciple.”
Calling it a spar was generous. I’d been injured at the time, and our levels were worlds apart. It was more accurate to say he’d toyed with me.
It hurts my pride a little.
Even so, there was nothing I could do. Having fought him seriously in my past life, I should’ve been grateful to walk away from our encounter in one piece.
“And you call that an intuition.”
His gaze grew colder. Clearly, that wasn’t enough to convince him.
When Bi Eejin and I first met, he’d introduced himself as the Dishonored Venerable’s disciple. That gave him an excuse to use the Heaven Destruction Art, the Venerable’s signature technique.
In my past life, the Dishonored Venerable had lived most of his life incognito, only revealing himself when calamity struck. That showed how cautious he was by nature.
So, I’d better take the most direct approach.
I took a breath and continued. “That’s not all.”
I hadn’t planned to use my backup plan here, but I had no choice. I really hadn’t wanted to resort to this…
After a brief hesitation, I spoke. “I’ve been interested in you for a while.”
“…Hmm?”
A strange sensation prickled at my neck as I forced the words out.
“What did you say?”
“…You’re known as the peak of close combat, and I found that title deeply inspiring.”
The first part was somewhat true. We might not practice the same style, but we both relied on our fists, and the Dishonored Venerable had reached the pinnacle in that field.
“Because of that, I asked the Beggar’s Sect to gather information on the Bi Clan.”
That was also true. I’d asked Chuwong to dig up information on the Dragon Warrior—mainly to gauge his reaction to the rumors about me being the Dishonored Venerable’s disciple.
“I assume you’re talking about that raccoon bastard.”
“That’s right.”
The Dishonored Venerable knew about Chuwong too. Oh right—Chuwong did mention he’d been captured. All I could do was hope for the best for him.
After a pause, the Dishonored Venerable spoke as if gathering his thoughts. “I understand that you have great respect for me.”
“I didn’t say that, though?”
Why was he putting words in my mouth? I hadn’t used the word “respect” even once.
He ignored my remark. “But you should know, that’s not a reason.”
He was right. Sending a beggar to gather intelligence on the Dragon Warrior didn’t explain how I’d uncovered his true identity. Still, I’d brought it up to show I had no interest in him as the Dishonored Venerable.
Now, all that was left was to explain my reasoning.
“I became certain after our spar… but honestly, I’d suspected long before that.”
“Does that mean… you knew about my identity from the start?”
“I wasn’t certain.”
“How?”
His tone sharpened. I felt like he might break my arm if I didn’t give him a satisfying answer.
Thankfully, my reason was straightforward and, more importantly, convincing. Nothing else could be more persuasive.
“…My Elder gave me some information.”
All I had to do was use the First Elder as an excuse. I knew they were friends, and since the First Elder had received a recommendation letter from the Dishonored Venerable, I figured they’d met even after the Venerable’s Eternal Youth technique.
So, my best move was to sell out the First Elder. Of course, I’d have to deal with the fallout later.
…Sorry, Elder. Let me sell you out for now.
After all, isn’t this what family is for? He always called me his grandson—surely, I could lean on him now and then.
The crucial part was how the Dishonored Venerable would react. I pretended to be perfectly calm, hiding my shivers as I stared back at him.
Shortly after I spoke, his eyes widened. “That crazy bastard…”
It was a violent reaction, but I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Gu Ryoon… you rotting piece of shit…”
The Dishonored Venerable placed a hand on his forehead as if nursing a headache. From his reaction, it seemed the two had a solid relationship. He looked more exasperated than angry.
“…You said Gu Ryoon told you?”
“He didn’t explain it directly. I only made an assumption based on a story he told me.”
I twisted my words slightly—if I pinned everything on the First Elder, it could become problematic later. I wasn’t sure he’d buy it.
“…Tsk.”
The Dishonored Venerable clicked his tongue irritably. Only then did I realize he’d withdrawn his overwhelming presence.
When did he do that?
I hadn’t even noticed it fade.
“Child…”
“Yes.”
He spoke again, having regained his composure. Had my explanation convinced him? I wasn’t sure.
“All is well. Even if you discovered my true identity, I can overlook it; there are more pressing matters.”
So he’s not buying everything I said.
He still seemed to have his doubts, but his response hinted that something else weighed heavier on his mind.
“Since you brought up my identity, I assume you have another motive.”
“…”
He was right. I could have pretended ignorance, but I had a reason for admitting the truth.
“Do you still remember the offer I made last time?”
“I do.”
“Then does this have to do with that?”
“Yes.”
The Dishonored Venerable—or rather, Bi Eejin—had previously asked me to become his disciple. This meeting was to give him my answer.
“This might actually work out better; it’ll make things clearer.”
The Dishonored Venerable’s smile returned. “My offer still stands. I’m asking you to become my disciple.”
Where had the serious Venerable from moments ago gone? Now he seemed almost cheerful. Was he really that pleased?
He doesn’t even know how I’ll answer.
Did he really think I wouldn’t refuse? I’d been wrestling with the decision ever since he made the offer.
Becoming his disciple came with clear benefits, but I didn’t have time to master an entirely new martial art. Remembering the power he’d wielded in my past life, the temptation was undeniable. Facing him had felt like confronting an insurmountable wall.
But there were problems too. Learning a new art meant starting from scratch—and I couldn’t afford that.
That was why this was so difficult.
The Gu Flame Wheel Art was powerful enough to be considered a Divine Art. Until a few days ago, I believed I didn’t need to become his disciple. But that changed after I met the Heavenly Demon.
I’d been arrogant, drunk on the title of “True Dragon,” and I’d forgotten what kind of existence the Heavenly Demon was.
There is no chance of victory.
How could I win? I racked my brain daily, but at my current pace, no path to victory existed. If giving up wasn’t an option, I had to find another way.
I considered asking my father for advice, but I doubted that would be enough.
Through my battles, I’d come to realize a major flaw in myself: I lack a fundamental understanding of martial arts itself.
The core issue was my severe lack of combat techniques. And the man before me was the ideal teacher for those techniques. After all, the Dishonored Venerable had reached the pinnacle of close combat.
“…Becoming your disciple. I would gladly become one.”
I didn’t believe it would solve everything, but I saw it as a necessary step toward my goal. The Dishonored Venerable seemed just as eager to take me on, though I didn’t know his true intentions. He had a reputation for never taking disciples—he must have had a strong reason for choosing me.
“Before that, I would like to make a request.”
“A request?”
He tilted his head. I was nervous about how he’d respond, but he didn’t seem too bothered.
I had only one request. I genuinely wanted to learn from him, but as I’d thought earlier, I couldn’t afford to dismantle everything I’d built and start anew. Moreover… I wanted to test something.
“I would like to learn your martial arts while keeping everything I’ve built in my life.”
In other words, I wanted to learn his techniques without abandoning the Gu Flame Wheel Art.
The Dishonored Venerable’s expression twisted. To be fair, it was a rather absurd request.