Chapter 462: Back In My Days (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 462: Back In My Days (1)
Crack!
A strange liquid gushed from the shattered vessel, drenching Gu Yangcheon.
What was once a seemingly endless void began to fill with the bizarre fluid, its level steadily rising.
“…”
Soon, it reached Shincheol’s ankles. He stood perfectly still upon the surface, as if it were a placid lake. The water was unnervingly calm. The fragments of the broken vessel had already sunk, and Gu Yangcheon had likely followed them into the depths.
Shincheol gazed downward, his eyes probing the water, but he saw nothing. The impenetrable darkness was a testament to the profound depth of Gu Yangcheon’s regrets and desires. A hollow laugh escaped Shincheol’s lips. He shook his head slowly.
He respected the young man's choice, but he had no idea what would come of it.
I’m not sure.
Would Gu Yangcheon ever open his eyes again? And if he did, would he be able to bear the mountain of regret he had left submerged here? Shincheol didn't know. To him, the very idea of a person transforming into an entirely new existence was fundamentally illogical.
As he stared into the abyssal water, the space suddenly trembled.
Rumble-!
Then…
BOOM!
SPLASH-!!
Something colossal plunged into the water, sending up waves of unbelievable magnitude. Water rained down like a sudden storm.
“…”
Shincheol watched as the massive form writhed beneath the surface. It was astoundingly large, a vast, black, enigmatic entity that seemed to fill the entire space. It was bigger than any creature Shincheol had ever seen in his long life.
Huff… Huff…
The monster-like being breathed heavily in the water, the sound echoing with sheer exhaustion.
“You did well,” Shincheol said, his voice carrying a tone of comfort.
He couldn't even discern the creature's full form; it was simply too immense for his eyes to take in. The feeling was akin to a martial artist facing an opponent leagues beyond their own level. A flicker of fear sparked within Shincheol, born from the sheer disparity, but it quickly faded. He felt a strange kinship with the creature. Hadn't they both suffered because of the same worthless bastard?
“…It must have been difficult, cramming yourself into that little runt’s body.”
Grr… Grrng…
The creature let out a rumbling breath, as if in response.
Seeing this, Shincheol nodded. “You may rest now.” The rest, it seemed, was his responsibility.
“Dammit.”
He cursed aloud, then let out a weak, weary laugh. Why was he still dealing with this sort of thing even after death? So much for a peaceful afterlife.
With that thought, Shincheol began to summon plum flowers.
“At least beating you will be satisfying.”
The Heavenly Venerable’s brow furrowed at his opponent’s taunting words. What had this bastard just said?
“…What did you just say?”
“You’re similar in that way, too—asking me to repeat what you’ve already heard clearly. Tsk tsk. A pity your hearing is already failing you in your youth.”
“You bastard!” the Heavenly Venerable roared.
The figure merely chuckled. “Don’t scream. Though I suppose having a loud voice is one thing you have going for you, given how young you are.”
“Do you have any idea who I am? How dare you mock me!”
“How could I not know? There’s only one place in the entire Central Plains that produces people with such insufferable pride.”
Crack.
A sharp sound came from the Heavenly Venerable’s hand as his grip tightened on his sword. “I was showing you mercy. Know your place.”
It seemed the monster had regained consciousness but lost half its mind in the process. No other explanation made sense.
Rumble-!
As the Heavenly Venerable stepped forward, lightning once again tore through the sky. Lightning Qi gathered in the air, condensing into countless sharp, shimmering forms that filled the surroundings. The sheer number was uncountable.
“…”
Fascinating. That was the only word for it.
But when the figure—no, when Shincheol saw this spectacle…
“Tsk.”
He clicked his tongue in clear disappointment.
“If old man Myung saw this pathetic display, he’d crawl out of his grave and vomit blood.”
Shincheol held many grievances against the Namgung Clan, most stemming from past entanglements with the Moyong Clan. Yet, despite his hatred, he held a deep respect for the sword of the Namgung Clan. More precisely, he respected the sword of the man known as Namgung Myung, the Thunderous Sword.
Shincheol observed the Lightning Qi filling the air. The vast quantity was a testament to the martial artist's experience and enlightenment… and yet.
“You fools.”
It was humiliating to call this the power of the Namgung Clan.
“You’ve not only lost its true meaning, you’ve shattered its very framework.”
He couldn't help but laugh. Namgung Myung had sacrificed his life to protect the proud sword of his clan, and now, nothing remained of that legacy.
Shincheol’s gaze settled firmly on the Heavenly Venerable. “Child.”
“…What?” The Heavenly Venerable frowned, certain he had misheard. Child? The disrespect was staggering.
“What is the true meaning of the Namgung Clan’s sword?”
“…Hah.” The Heavenly Venerable’s face twisted in anger. The audacity! To ask such a question of him, the Heavenly Venerable, the greatest martial artist of his clan!
Struggling to contain his sneer, he replied, “If you’re trying to provoke me, you have succeeded.”
Zaaap-!
The Lightning Qi in the air crackled explosively, poised to strike Shincheol. A crushing pressure descended upon the entire forest.
The Master of Swords.
The Secret Art of the Namgung Clan erupted from the Heavenly Venerable’s body. It was a horrifying aura that would paralyze any ordinary warrior.
Yet, Shincheol remained perfectly calm. It was only natural.
This is poor.
In Shincheol’s eyes, it was utterly disappointing that this was the pinnacle achieved by the descendants of his former comrades. His body trembled slightly under the pressure, but it felt unimpressive—a mere bluff.
The true Master of Swords was nothing like this. It wasn't a technique that sought to bind opponents with weight alone.
Did you work so hard only to leave behind this?
A pang of sorrow struck Shincheol as he remembered his friend, sweating and bleeding to forge a legacy for his descendants.
The Lightning Qi was beautiful, yes, but it should have been something entirely different, befitting the nature of the Namgung Clan.
The sword of the Namgung Clan was never about beauty.
The martial art Namgung Myung demonstrated was far from beautiful; it was rough, harsh, and devastating.
“There is no future for martial arts that has lost its meaning.”
Shincheol began to walk forward, murmuring the words he had heard from his own seniors long ago, his eyes never leaving the Heavenly Venerable.
“Lightning Qi was never the foundation of the Namgung Clan’s martial arts to begin with.”
The Heavenly Venerable’s fury grew with every word. “You dare to lecture me on the ways of the Namgung sword?”
He had no more patience for this madman. “In your pursuit of beauty, you stripped away its firm, destructive nature.”
In this era, Lightning Qi was synonymous with the Namgung Clan, but in Shincheol's time, it was merely a byproduct. The Thunderous Sword commanded the heavens with his Lightning Qi—powerful enough to erase mountains—yet Namgung Myung himself never considered it the core.
His pursuit was different.
To not fall.
To never taste defeat. To maintain an unbreakable sword art, sharper and faster than any other.
All to…
Protect his loved ones.
That was the true meaning behind the Namgung Clan’s sword. Shincheol had envied his friend's talent and handsome features, but this was the principle he truly admired. His friend's blade was indeed the sharpest and fastest, a testament to the validity of his ideal.
And yet…
“Your sword possesses none of that.”
A hollow shell. That was all Shincheol saw in the Heavenly Venerable’s blade.
“You are not worthy of the title 'Venerable'.”
“…You bastaaard!”
Shincheol’s words finally shattered the Heavenly Venerable’s composure. As his anger exploded, Lightning Qi poured from the surroundings like a torrential downpour, revealing the countless lightning stakes he commanded.
The Qi, imbued with the Heavenly Venerable’s lifetime of experience and enlightenment, surged toward Shincheol with the power to annihilate a man completely, bones and all.
“I told you.”
Rustle-
A single, calm word. From Shincheol’s foot, a leaf began to float upward. It was a blue leaf—or more accurately, a small, leaf-shaped ember.
“Martial arts that have lost their meaning are pointless.”
The leaf rose slowly.
Rustle-
It separated into two.
Rustle… rustle…
Then it doubled, becoming four. In the instant before the rain of Lightning Qi could strike Shincheol, the leaves multiplied into countless numbers, blanketing the entire sky.
“…Huh?”
The Heavenly Venerable gasped, unable to hide his shock.
Swooosh-!
The Lightning Qi collided with the leaves.
Boooom-!
With each collision, a deafening explosion erupted, filling the air with a continuous, thunderous roar. The sky lit up as if with fireworks.
Yes, everything exploded. The lifetime of experience the Heavenly Venerable had accumulated was being systematically detonated and consumed by those simple leaves.
“…This is impossible.”
The Heavenly Venerable stared in disbelief. When his opponent had appeared demonic, he could rationalize its infinite regeneration and savage strength. But this? This was different.
It’s as if my very experience and enlightenment are being devoured.
Everything he had built was being defeated, his Lightning Qi swept away as if it were nothing. Such a feat was only possible for a martial artist whose understanding dwarfed his own.
“…This is absurd.”
Someone like the Sword Emperor could defeat him, but not like this. Perhaps the Heavenly Demon was capable of it. But to place this mysterious opponent on the same level as the Heavenly Demon was unthinkable.
I’m being pushed back? Me, the Heavenly Venerable?
Craaack-!
He gritted his teeth. It was impossible. He was the pride of the Namgung Clan, the man who ruled the skies. He could not lose to some enigmatic foe. Even as the last survivor of his destroyed clan, this fact remained unshakeable. This shouldn't be happening.
Watching the Heavenly Venerable’s composure crumble, Shincheol spoke again. “Being blinded by inner demons will cloud a mind that was once clear.” He paused, having sensed the truth through their clash. “But even if that weren’t the case…”
“Know this, child. You never would have reached the destination you sought.”
“…How… dare you…!”
“If you wish to curse your ancestors for doing a poor job of passing down their legacy, feel free. I’d be happy to join you.”
Rumble-!
As Shincheol finished his mockery, light began to converge at a single point. Shincheol recognized the technique immediately.
Sword of Mind.
The pinnacle of a swordsman's art. A technique only a true master could perform, achieved by becoming one with the blade. As the name implied, it was a sword formed from pure will, said to be able to cut through anything.
But that wasn't Shincheol's focus. He was more interested in the gathering light itself—the manifestation of a swordsman's mind given form.
He nodded slightly. Despite training a hollow martial art his entire life, the Heavenly Venerable had still reached this level. Shincheol respected that.
“Not bad.”
A martial artist’s accumulated wisdom would always reveal its true form. Even when tainted by anger, despair, or pride, a lifetime of experience did not simply vanish.
Therefore, Shincheol had to teach him a lesson.
“Given how much this body has consumed, using this technique shouldn’t be a problem.”
He recalled his annoyance at the poor quality of the young man's body when he had briefly borrowed it before. But now, it was different. The body was far more hardened, and the amount of Qi it contained was beyond anything Shincheol could have imagined. The strange, empty feeling of a void vessel remained, but it was more than sufficient for his needs.
It was more than enough to show this foolish child a completely different world.
Shincheol reached out his hand. “Perhaps this, too, is fate.”
Twitch.
Something in his left arm twitched. A familiar sensation. Shincheol smiled. He was a swordsman. He needed a sword, but he didn't have one. The original owner of this body was no swordsman. This should have been a problem…
Shing-
But the bandage wrapped around his left arm loosened and floated gently into his waiting hand. It was now a light blue, whereas it had once been light red, but Shincheol paid the change no mind. A change in color didn't mean a loss of essence.
He smiled at the bandage and spoke its name. “It’s been a while, Solar Light.”
Flutter-!
As if obeying his command, the bandage shifted form, folding upon itself until it took the shape of a slender sword.
This bandage was Solar Light. It was once a treasure of Mount Hua, and Shincheol’s favored weapon.
And that bastard treated it as a mere bandage… tsk.
The memory of his fury inside the young man's mind surfaced. It was his own fault for not explaining what it was, but perhaps it was for the best.
Woong-!
Light began to collapse from the sky above, converging into the Heavenly Venerable's ultimate technique.
Shincheol gripped his treasure sword tightly.
In that moment…
Swooosh-!
“…!”
A massive pillar of light flashed into existence above Shincheol. The Heavenly Venerable’s shock was palpable. It wasn't just one or two. At least three distinct towers of light—Shincheol's own version of the Sword of Mind—materialized, their presence overwhelming.
The Heavenly Venerable was rendered speechless.
“Child.”
Then, Shincheol’s voice cut through the awe. He sounded almost amused.
“Back in my days,”
Though the figure's expression was hard to read, the Heavenly Venerable was certain Shincheol was smiling. Watching the despair dawn on his opponent's face, Shincheol finished his thought.
“One could only be called a true swordsman if they could summon more than a couple of these at once.”
The generation of war.
That was what life was like in Shincheol’s days.