Chapter 500: Just Let Me Hold It Once (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 500: Just Let Me Hold It Once (7)
Solar Light.
That was the name of the treasure I'd taken from the Heavenly Dragon Academy's secret vault—a bandage-like artifact from Mount Hua. It was haphazardly wrapped around my left arm, and for some reason, it refused to come undone.
At first, I couldn't fathom what made it special. Aside from its striking crimson color and the faint scent of plum blossoms, it seemed little more than a stubborn strip of cloth.
But I was wrong.
When Elder Shin awoke, he revealed its true nature. The Solar Light, which I'd dismissed as a mere bandage, was actually…
…a sword?
He claimed it was the beloved blade he'd once wielded, and he berated me endlessly for using such a magnificent treasure as a simple arm wrap. From my perspective, that was utterly unfair.
He could have at least explained how to use it before vanishing. Instead, he'd thrust it upon me and disappeared without a word. How was I supposed to know what it was? And now he had the nerve to scold me.
It was absurd.
So, a bandage could be a sword? When I asked, he told me my premise was flawed from the start.
[This was never 'cloth' to begin with.]
I’d naturally assumed it was made of fabric, but according to the old man, it was something more. And yet, he added another layer of confusion.
[Calling it a sword is also incorrect.]
He’d referred to it as his beloved sword, yet now he warned me not to think of it as one. What was that supposed to mean?
Just as my irritation was about to boil over at his cryptic words, he finally explained the true power of the Solar Light.
[If you believe it to be a sword, it becomes a sword. If you imagine something else, it becomes that. The Solar Light is that kind of entity.]
It would take whatever form I desired. That was its nature.
But how was I supposed to wield it? I understood it was a treasure with a specific usage, but the method eluded me. The answer, it turned out, was simple.
[Believe it to be so.]
Just believe.
Believe that the Solar Light will become what I envision.
As trivial as it sounded, those words held the key. When I focused my will, the Solar Light truly began to move according to my intentions. It reacted as though it had a mind of its own, sometimes grasping objects. And just as the old man said, it could indeed take the form of a sword.
The only limitation was that it couldn’t manifest in two forms simultaneously. I couldn’t extend it as a bandage while also wielding it as a sword. But even with that restriction, I was more than satisfied.
Because the Solar Light’s power extended far beyond shape-shifting.
Elder Shin explained that its true strength lay in being…
…absolutely unbreakable.
It could not be torn, cut, or shattered.
A hardened Solar Light would never break, no matter what force was brought against it. That, according to the old man, was its greatest power.
How ridiculous.
The moment I heard it, I couldn’t help but scoff. Even the hardest steel in the Central Plains would eventually yield. Was "absolute" even possible?
But even if the claim was exaggerated, the Solar Light’s durability was undeniable.
Just look at what happened.
It blocked a full-force strike from the Monster of Wudang’s sword without a scratch. Not only did it hold firm, but it also created an opening as the Monster recoiled in surprise. I seized that moment to release the Solar Light and bind his blade.
Closing the distance in an instant, I didn’t hesitate—I unleashed a Flaming Sphere.
The result?
Fwoooosh…
Blue flames licked across the ravaged earth.
I raised my hand.
Whoooosh-!
The lingering heat in the air and the flames on the ground surged toward me. As the energy flowed back into my body…
…I felt it steadily accumulating within my heart.
I hadn’t expended as much as I’d thought.
Despite launching two Flaming Spheres and a torrent of fire, my Qi reserves were deeper than expected. Was it because my body had grown stronger? Or had my control improved?
My ability to withstand compression had increased.
Compression, rotation, emission—these were the core principles I’d refined under the guidance of Elder Shin and my father. They were essential for mastering Qi and flames, allowing me to maximize power even with limited energy.
But compression and rotation placed immense strain on the body, and my endurance had always been a bottleneck.
…As my body grew stronger, that limit expanded.
With a sturdier physique, I could sustain the pressure longer. And that, in turn, amplified the power of my techniques.
Is this the result?
I looked ahead.
A massive crater dominated the center of the ruined ground, a testament to the Flaming Sphere’s detonation. I’d used the same amount of Qi as before, but the aftermath was far more devastating.
I’ve grown stronger.
And in the center of the destruction…
"Haha…"
The Monster of Wudang knelt on one knee, laughing weakly.
"I don’t know what to say."
His eyes swept over the surroundings, brimming with disbelief.
I nodded slowly.
Fortunately, he was unharmed.
I’d pulled back at the last moment.
Though I’d detonated the Flaming Sphere, I’d controlled it carefully to spare him. That was only natural.
If he’d taken a direct hit… I’d be in trouble too.
Regardless of his intentions, a fight to the death would have been disastrous. I knew he hadn’t wielded his sword with killing intent.
Besides, he’s Woo Hyuk’s master.
As the Sleeping Dragon’s teacher, I had no desire to injure him. So I’d deliberately directed the explosion away, ensuring he remained safe. I’d borne the recoil myself, but my body could handle it. Another advantage.
"Haha. To think I’d lose."
The Monster of Wudang let out an awkward chuckle. I tilted my head.
"I know you were holding back."
His final strike might have been serious, but he hadn’t been fighting all-out from the start.
If he’d been serious, I would have lost.
Had the Monster of Wudang come at me with full strength from the beginning, the outcome would have been uncertain. Even if I’d gone all out, I might have landed a blow or two.
But winning would have been impossible.
What just happened was barely a counterattack, thanks to the Solar Light. Calling it a victory would be a stretch.
I do have a conscience, you know.
[What?]
Be quiet.
I cut off the old man before he could interrupt. I was serious about this.
He didn’t even use the Thunder Fang.
The Monster of Wudang had fought with an ordinary iron sword, not the legendary treasure. Of course…
I’m not even sure if he can use the Thunder Fang.
Since he practiced Wudang swordsmanship, not the Namgung Clan’s martial arts, could he even wield a blade that channeled Lightning Qi? There was no way to know.
What would have happened if he had used it?
Would the fight have been on a completely different level?
As I pondered this with a mix of disappointment and curiosity…
[To use the Solar Light…]
A voice echoed from within the crater. It was Namgung Myung. He seemed to recognize the treasure.
[Shincheol, have you lost your mind? Handing over the Solar Light…!]
[Hey, it’s mine to give. Why are you making a fuss?]
[How can you give a symbol of Mount Hua to a child from another family?]
[And you?]
[What did you say…?]
[I don’t know what you’re so proud of, muttering like that. Tsk, tsk, you can’t even fight. That’s why the Namgung are in such a state.]
[You son of a bitch!]
He’d accused me of being harsh, but this old man was just as bad.
“…Sigh.”
I sighed and took a few steps forward. Something was lodged in the ground ahead, and I moved toward it.
An indigo hilt protruded from the earth—the Thunder Fang. It must have been knocked from his grasp during our clash. Namgung Myung’s voice was emanating from it, confirming my suspicion.
I approached slowly.
I had no intention of stealing it. I just wanted to pick it up and return it. The Monster of Wudang had been thrown back by the blast, so I hadn’t had a chance to discuss the sword yet.
My plan was to return it first.
“Hey! Wait!”
The Monster of Wudang cried out, startled by my movement.
“Hm?”
But by the time I heard him, my hand was already closing around the Thunder Fang’s hilt.
Tuk.
It came free easily.
It fits perfectly.
The hilt, that is. It felt as though it was made for my grip. If I were a swordsman, I’d have sought a blade like this. But then, it was one of the Five Great Swords of the Central Plains. Of course it would feel exceptional.
As I turned to carry the Thunder Fang back to him…
[How dare you…! Where do you think you’re putting your hands!]
Namgung Myung suddenly roared with fury.
“Old man! Stop!”
At the sound, the Monster of Wudang scrambled to his feet and rushed toward me.
What’s going on? Why are they reacting like this?
Puzzled, I watched them.
Flash-!
A brilliant light erupted from the Thunder Fang—so bright I instinctively shut my eyes. It felt threatening, and for a moment, I expected panic to set in.
Tuk.
But contrary to my expectations, the light faded as quickly as it had appeared. Was that all? It wasn’t a torch…
I stared at the sword, bemused.
Something felt off.
[…Huh?]
“…Hm?”
Both the Monster of Wudang and Namgung Myung sounded equally confused.
I looked at the Monster of Wudang, who was staring at me with a dumbfounded expression, and asked.
“…What’s wrong?”
Why in the world were they acting like that?
* * *
Meanwhile, in the Lord’s chamber of the Tang Clan…
The Poison King sat at his desk, gazing out the window.
Summer had arrived. He could feel the season changing in the gradually warming air.
Drrrk, tak.
The quiet sound of a watermill turned in the background as the Poison King slowly lifted his teacup. He took a sip, savoring the tranquility of the night.
Gulp.
The sound of his swallow echoed in the stillness. That was how quiet it was.
A secluded silence enveloped the room, but the Poison King’s mind was far from calm.
“Huuu…”
A sigh escaped his lips.
How could it not? Inner demons threatened to consume him.
Recently, Gu Yangcheon’s words had haunted him.
When he’d heard that the Tang Clan’s Celestial Martial Body Plan was still active, the Poison King had refused to believe it at first.
It was a sin of the past, a shackle that should have been broken long ago. The greatest transgression of the Tang Clan, committed by the Poison Emperor—an affair quietly resolved by the previous Lord, fading into forgotten history.
…What should I do?
His last meeting with Gu Yangcheon, the revelations he’d heard… He didn’t know if they were true, but the fact that Gu Yangcheon knew such things at all was deeply troubling.
Had the Tang Clan truly rotted from within?
To be honest, the Poison King was not ignorant of the clan’s corruption. He knew the sins his ancestors had committed, the countless deeds that could never be justified under the banner of the Orthodox Faction.
But he had turned a blind eye.
The parts that could be salvaged had been handled by the previous Lord and himself. The rest, he deliberately ignored.
He had no choice.
He wanted to tear out the rotten roots, to purge the clan entirely. But if he did, the entire structure would collapse.
The Tang Clan was a massive entity, an ancient tree that had stood unshaken since the Blood Demon War. If such a tree were to fall, it would be his duty as the Poison King to nurture new roots in its place.
But he knew he lacked the strength to do so.
That was why he endured.
That was why he had struck a deal with the Moyong Clan, using their merchant network to extend his influence beyond Sichuan and throughout the Central Plains. It was why the Tang Clan had begun participating in various events around the time the Harmonic Sword became Alliance Leader.
The Poison King needed power.
But now…
…it’s too late.
He sensed that the rot had spread too far, creeping toward him without his knowledge.
He considered the possibility that Gu Yangcheon’s words were lies. But the Poison King was already certain—something was wrong.
He’d known it from the moment Gu Yangcheon was poisoned. That someone had dared to poison a guest he himself had invited… and that he couldn’t find the culprit, no matter how hard he tried.
It wasn’t that he had no suspects. The Poison King already had his doubts, but the lack of evidence and the political delicacy of the situation made action impossible.
The culprit had to be among the elders.
That was an immutable law. To act within the Tang Clan without the Poison King’s knowledge… one had to be at least an elder.
Unless it was one of the former Lord’s direct descendants, but… he was the only one of that bloodline still alive.
So, an elder was the most likely candidate. The problem was…
…it’s not easy.
Even if he knew who it was, he couldn’t move against them now.
Their influence was too entrenched. If he exposed an elder’s crime without the ability to absorb their factions, it could trigger a clan-wide crisis.
In other words…
…it’s my problem.
This situation was a direct result of the Lord’s own weakness. To manage the mess left by the previous generation, the Lord had divided his power. Now, those very divisions supported the clan—and threatened to destroy it.
He believed this was a challenge all great clans faced as eras changed, but now that crisis was here, the painful reality was unavoidable.
What made it even worse was…
…if I had known earlier.
If he’d known about this in the past, would he have acted?
He wasn’t sure.
The reason it weighed on him so heavily now was, ultimately…
—It seemed that Lady Tang was involved in this matter.
…because of what Gu Yangcheon had said.
Tang Soyeol. His precious daughter, his jewel, was entangled in this.
How? Where and how was she connected, for Gu Yangcheon to say such a thing?
He didn’t know if it was true. But if there was even a sliver of doubt, he had to confirm it.
For the past two days, the Poison King had met with every elder in the clan. Under the guise of routine discussions, he’d spoken with them all, narrowing down his suspects.
The First Elder. And the Third Elder.
The First Elder, who managed the clan’s herbs and poisons, and the Third Elder, who handled distribution and hidden weapons. If someone had used a Biyu flower to poison a guest, those two were the most likely.
A possibility.
Not a certainty, but a possibility.
There was no proof.
What if…
What if he found proof?
Could he deal with them?
No, even then, it wouldn’t be easy.
That was why he thought his past self would have let it slide.
But now, he couldn’t.
His daughter was involved.
So the Poison King had to make a choice.
If politics and factions made it impossible to touch them, what was the solution? If he couldn’t expand the Lord’s influence quickly, and the situation was urgent…
What method remained?
There was only one option left.
Clatter.
“…!”
The teacup rattled abruptly. The Poison King paused, noticing the vibration.
Whoooosh-!
“Kugh! Hup!”
Suddenly, his vision twisted and flipped. A searing, unknown pain shot through him, but his mouth was sealed before he could scream.
Kooong-!
His body slammed against the wall and was lifted into the air. Only then did he realize something had seized him by the neck.
Kuuuuuk-!
“Kkeuk… Eugh…”
An immense pressure crushed down on him, constricting his body. Through the dense darkness, he lowered his gaze.
There, piercing the shadows with crimson eyes, a man stared back at him.
“Tang Cheongi.”
The voice drilled into his ears, heavy with viscous anger. His own name, spoken with contempt.
He hadn’t sensed anyone enter. He hadn’t been able to react until it was too late.
“Kggghk…”
All he could manage was a pained groan.
“Explain.”
The voice was calm, yet rough. In that moment, the Poison King remembered.
The only way to solve this unsolvable situation.
Martial power.
Political advantages, factional incompetence—they were all meaningless before overwhelming strength. The Central Plains began and ended with martial arts. No matter how noble one acted, the world of martial artists was ultimately ruled by force.
“If you fail to make me understand…”
That was why the Poison King, Tang Cheongi…
“I will burn the name of the Tang Clan from the lands of the Central Plains.”
…had summoned the strongest person he knew.