Chapter 555: Wudang (6)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 555: Wudang (6)
A chilling silence settled over the inn.
For several seconds, no one dared to breathe.
The Wudang Sect Taoists standing in the rear widened their eyes in shock. Gu Ryunghwa, breaking out in a cold sweat, instinctively covered her mouth.
Screech—!
Jicheol, seated across from me, shoved his chair back and surged to his feet.
“What did you just say?”
The deep scowl etched into Jicheol’s face made his fury plain.
Rattle, rattle, rattle—!
The teacup on the table trembled violently, vibrating from the sheer pressure of the energy Jicheol was emitting.
Feeling the tremor, I looked him over.
‘His level seems to be about the same as Yung Pung’s.’
He looked to be somewhere between thirty and forty. Considering his age, he was a remarkably skilled martial artist. Yung Pung was a special case, of course—to reach that level at his age made him a monstrous genius.
‘Is that why?’
His eyes were brimming with arrogance and pride. It was a look unique to those raised in prestigious clans, pampered and hailed as geniuses since birth.
‘It makes me want to gouge his eyes out.’
I suppressed the impulse. The situation hadn't escalated quite that far yet.
“What did you just say?” Jicheol repeated, looking as if he might draw the sword at his waist at any moment.
I met his gaze, my smile never wavering. “My, my. You’re quite angry.”
Grit.
Jicheol ground his teeth. “How dare you call a disciple of Wudang a member of the Unorthodox Faction?”
“If you’re not, then you’re not. Why get so worked up?”
SLAM—!
Jicheol slammed his palm down on the table. “This bastard… How dare you…!”
Swoosh—!
As Jicheol’s voice rose, I subtly twisted my energy and sent it sideways.
“…!”
Yung Pung shot me a startled look. I had seized control of his energy before he could act.
‘Stay still.’
The moment Jicheol had revealed his hostility, I felt the edge of Yung Pung’s energy sharpen. If I had left him alone, he would have charged right in, so I pinned him down first.
‘Forcibly restraining him will only lead to trouble later.’
Besides, there were too many witnesses. If I wanted to, I could erase every single one of them, but I needed to show a measure of generosity—if only for the sake of my few friends who were likely struggling back in the North.
“Do you know whose land this is? How dare you act so rudely!”
“I wouldn’t know about that. But it’s certainly not your land, is it, Taoist?”
“What?”
This district was managed and protected by Wudang. I knew they were the administrators here, but…
“By any chance, are you Wudang itself?”
“…!”
“I understand your devotion to your sect. But a young leaf barely clinging to a branch is not the ancient tree itself.”
Know your place and watch your mouth. That was the unspoken weight behind my words.
Was that the breaking point?
Jicheol moved. His hand darted toward his waist—judging by the flick of his wrist, he was reaching for his blade.
Click.
As Jicheol moved, I felt a shift beside and behind me. Yung Pung was circulating his Taoist Qi. Seong Yul was already gripping his sword. I thought they’d be standing there dumbfounded, but their reactions were sharper than expected.
However.
‘Just stay still, please.’
A brawl here wouldn't get us the results we wanted. Therefore, before the powder keg exploded, I reached into my robes, pulled out a letter, and slapped it onto the table.
Flinch.
Jicheol froze mid-motion. He clearly recognized the document. Putting aside the man’s arrogance and folly, it was a relief his eyes still functioned properly.
“Uh…?”
Yung Pung let out a confused sound. Naturally—this letter had originally been in his possession.
“Wh-when did you…?”
Yung Pung fumbled inside his robes, but I ignored him and addressed Jicheol.
“Do you know what this is?”
“...”
“You seem to recognize it, so I won’t bother with a long explanation.”
The letter stated that we were emissaries from Mount Hua, sent to retrieve a stolen treasure. That was the content, but the crest stamped upon it was the real issue.
The beautifully colored plum blossom seal at the bottom of the parchment. It meant only one thing.
‘The Sect Leader’s personal seal.’
This letter had been sent directly by the Sect Leader of the Mount Hua Sect. Did he understand the implications?
“This means we have come as representatives of the Sect Leader, Taoist Jicheol.”
When a Sect Leader cannot move in person, they send a representative bearing a letter with this crest. The personal seal of a Great Sect Leader carried that much weight.
Long ago, when I visited Mount Hua, even the Celestial Plum Blossom had shown me courtesy during my private meeting with the Sect Leader because of such protocols.
And yet.
“Is this how Wudang treats such guests?”
Even the Celestial Plum Blossom of Mount Hua showed respect. For a mere second-generation disciple to act like this… how could I find it anything but absurd?
As I pointed to the seal, Jicheol’s brow furrowed. His expression shifted from pure rage to a hint of genuine bewilderment.
“I ask you, Taoist Jicheol. Are you the representative of Wudang?”
“…That is…”
“Personally, I hope not. Because if you came as the face of Wudang, this mess should never have happened.”
“...”
I hit him with irrefutable logic. We came as representatives of the Mount Hua Sect Leader. Are you in any position to treat us this way?
In other words: ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’
What could Jicheol possibly say to that? I watched him, a flicker of amusement in my eyes. His pupils were shaking noticeably. He had realized that he needed to choose his next words very, very carefully.
‘This is what happens when arrogance rots a man’s mind.’
To have reached his level at that age, he was indeed talented. But if one is consumed by conceit in the process, they inevitably become this kind of person.
Of course, from my perspective, it was a relief. I was quite confident in dealing with idiots like him.
“You seemed to have a busy mouth earlier, but you’re more tight-lipped than I expected, aren’t you?”
At my suggestion that he should start spouting nonsense again, Jicheol bit his lip. But his silence couldn't last. I had already seized the flow of the conversation. All Jicheol could do now was…
‘Either jump off the cliff I’ve built for him…’
…or cast aside his pathetic pride and back down. I had planted sharp thorns exactly where he stood. Jicheol wouldn’t be able to remain still; the ‘thorns’ were the gazes of the other Taoists watching him.
What would he choose? From where I stood, there weren't any good options left for him.
After a moment of his eyes darting around, Jicheol finally spoke.
“…I had no intention of disrespecting our guests.”
A slight retreat. It seemed he had finally come to his senses. But I had no intention of letting him off the hook.
“It’s just, as I mentioned earlier, something has happened at the main sect…”
“Then, fuck.”
Jicheol flinched at the sudden profanity. I cut him off and immediately adopted an expression of mock embarrassment.
“Ah, my apologies. It just slipped out.”
I wasn’t sorry in the least, but I offered the word and pressed on.
“Then, wouldn’t it have been proper to explain the situation first? Taoist Jicheol of Wudang.”
“...”
With my words, I reinforced the idea that he was currently representing the entire Wudang Sect.
“There is a matter at Wudang. Therefore, we have something to confirm with you.”
Squeak.
I leaned forward, closing the distance between us.
“Nicely packaging such circumstances and explaining them is what we call ‘social skills,’ you moronic bastard.”
“…!”
“It would be infuriating even if we were in a subordinate position. But do you know what the real problem is?”
I flicked the letter, showing it to him again.
“The stated purpose is a return, but from the looks of it, it’s a trade, isn’t it?”
Flinch.
That reaction came from Yung Pung. I ignored it. The letter stamped with the Celestial Plum Blossom’s crest contained a few lines written in a calm, elegant script. Yung Pung had told me he was going to ‘retrieve’ Mount Hua’s treasure.
But the letter…
‘Also mentioned returning one of Wudang’s treasures.’
Mount Hua would return a Wudang treasure they possessed. In exchange, they wished for the return of the Mount Hua treasure held by Wudang. That was the gist of it.
“If we had come to just beg for it, we might have had to be humble. But if we came for an exchange, the story changes, doesn’t it?”
Especially between sects of equal standing.
‘He might think Wudang is superior, and well, I can see why.’
The leader of the Murim Alliance was their Sect Leader. With their territory so prosperous, did they think they were superior to the Mount Hua Sect, which lived a secluded life? A person could think that way. Most humans were like that.
But.
‘The problem is showing it.’
He should have kept it to himself. Why bring it into the open and create this mess? It was beyond my understanding. If you can’t back up the words you spew with strength, there is nothing more pathetic—yet this bastard seemed utterly clueless about his own place.
Looking at Jicheol’s face, I said, “I’ll ask you one more time.”
I glanced at the table. The teacup was no longer trembling. Confirming this, I stood up and slowly walked over until I was right in front of him.
“Is the attitude you’ve taken, Taoist Jicheol, truly representative of Wudang’s position?” I looked him dead in the eye. “And are you aware that you are committing a grave discourtesy to official visitors from the Mount Hua Sect?”
“That’s not what I…!”
Jicheol’s eyes widened as he tried to retort. My words asked one thing, but my eyes were asking him something else entirely.
—What are you going to do?
I smiled, slightly easing the oppressive atmosphere I was projecting.
—Are you going to apologize and back down quietly?
Then, moving only my lips, I mouthed a silent insult.
—You pathetic little shit.
“…You bastard…!”
Click.
Driven over the edge, he gripped the hilt of his sword. But he couldn't draw it.
“Think carefully. This is your last chance.”
“…!!”
Grip—!
My hand was clamped over his, preventing him from unsheathing the blade. Jicheol, startled, tried to apply more force, but no matter how hard he struggled, the sword wouldn't budge.
I grabbed his shoulder with my other hand.
“If you draw this,” I leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “you die here.”
FWOOSH—!
“Ghk…!!”
Jicheol recoiled, pulling himself back as fast as he could. His forehead was instantly drenched in cold sweat.
Did I infuse too much killing intent into my words? No, that wasn't all.
‘It’s not easy to control.’
I lightly brushed my neck, shaking off a feeling of disappointment. I had used it on Seong Yul before, but trying to apply it like this was complicated. What was it called again?
‘I think it was called Dragon’s Word.’
Dragon’s Word (龍言).
The power to imbue one’s words with energy and project them directly at an opponent. It was different from a telepathic voice, which was for secret communication over distances. It was also different from a Lion’s Roar, which used raw internal energy to momentarily paralyze an opponent. This was the power to overwhelm an opponent’s very soul with one’s voice.
The Dark King had described it that way, but I still didn't fully grasp it.
I tilted my head and looked at Jicheol. Regardless of my poor control, it seemed to have worked quite well. His face was streaming with sweat, his eyes filled with pure disbelief.
“How dare you… a mere young prodigy…!”
“You must be happy to be so old. Personally, I’m quite happy to be young.”
“It seems you’ve grown arrogant from people praising you as a genius!”
Haha. I couldn't help but laugh.
“You’re laughing?”
“I find this quite amusing.” How could I not? “Usually, the people who say such things are completely unaware that they’re the ones doing it. It’s a joy to watch.”
Who was it that had grown arrogant from being praised in the name of Wudang? It certainly wasn't me.
Jicheol’s face turned a deep shade of crimson. Thankfully, he seemed to at least know what shame was.
“…You… I won’t forgive you.”
Shing—!
Unable to contain his rage, Jicheol finally drew his sword. “I must teach you a lesson here!”
“You actually drew it?”
Jicheol couldn't finish his sentence. By the time the words left his mouth, my hand was already at his throat.
“What did I just say?”
If you draw your sword, you die.
I had been very clear. Jicheol, as if suddenly remembering, tried to swing his blade, but he was far too slow to stop me. I was about to crush his windpipe when—
“That’s far enough.”
I stopped my hand at the sound of the voice. I turned my gaze.
An old man had appeared out of nowhere and was approaching us. The Wudang disciples all wore expressions of profound shock. Jicheol’s face, however, was particularly priceless.
“E-Elder…!”
The old man approached with a calm, steady gait. He ignored Jicheol and spoke directly to me.
“I am Yubaek of Wudang.”
At the introduction, I removed my hand from Jicheol’s neck. I offered a polite bow.
“I greet you, Senior Starfall Sword.”
“Hoho…”
The old man was one of the Hundred Masters of the Central Plains and a premier master representing Wudang. The Starfall Sword, Yubaek. He was a legend even I knew of.
“…Thank you for recognizing this old man.”
“How could I not recognize someone of your stature?”
When I spoke with a touch of flattery, the corners of Yubaek’s eyes crinkled slightly.
“It seems our children have committed a great discourtesy to our guests.” Yubaek briefly assessed the scene, then looked at me and my companions. “My apologies.”
He offered a sincere bow.
“I shall apologize on their behalf, so could you please find it in your heart to quell your anger?”
“E-Elder! How can you apologize to this bastard…!”
The moment Jicheol cluelessly interrupted—
SLAP—!
Yubaek’s hand blurred, striking Jicheol across the cheek. It wasn't a light slap; Jicheol was sent spiraling through the air.
CRASH—!
Jicheol collapsed, smashing through a table.
“Guh…”
As Jicheol trembled, blood trickling from his mouth, Yubaek spoke with icy precision. “Worthless fool.”
“E-Elder…”
“Keep your mouth shut. Your punishment will be decided back at the sect.”
The growling tone was razor-sharp. At a glance, he seemed furious.
However.
‘Tsk.’
From my perspective, I knew it was a performance. Yubaek quickly smoothed over his scowl and looked back at us.
“As for the boy’s mistake, I will scold him harshly. I implore you to forgive him, if only for this old man’s sake.”
Yubaek bowed his head once more. As a Great Elder of Wudang pleaded for forgiveness, the Taoists in the back began to tremble.
I considered my options. Should I push it further?
I could if I wanted to. If I played my cards right, I could squeeze them for more, but…
“Yes. I understand. I accept your apology.”
I decided against it. Not because I was satisfied with the apology, but because I knew that pushing further now would shift the moral high ground to their side.
Yubaek smiled. “Thank you for your understanding. Also, if our guests are amenable, I have an escort prepared outside. Would you accompany us to the main sect? This time, we will escort you ‘courteously,’ without such mistakes…”
“Well, you said you had something to confirm. Is that alright?”
“Such a process is normally necessary, but how could we subject such esteemed guests to that? It can be handled just as well at the main sect. Please, grant us your generosity.”
The old man had a silver tongue. His words skillfully conveyed that he was waiving a ‘necessary’ procedure for our sake, while still reminding us that there was a confirmation process waiting for us at the sect.
“I understand.”
I knew I couldn't twist the situation any further, so I nodded. I picked up the letter from the table and handed it back to Yung Pung.
Yung Pung took it, his face a mask of bewilderment.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “If you’re not satisfied, should I do more?”
“N-no, that’s not it…! I was just a little surprised…”
It was amusing to see Yung Pung’s confusion, as if this was the first time he had ever seen someone handle a situation like this.
‘Tsk, tsk. How does he plan to survive this world acting like that?’
Most newcomers to the Murim were probably like this, but his naive demeanor was bothersome. This was a world where you get devoured if you don't know any better. If you didn't have the power to overturn the world, you had to be thorough from the start.
I glanced at the fallen Jicheol and the watchful Yubaek, then led my companions out of the inn. It was a shame I couldn't beat Jicheol a bit more, but this was enough.
For now, this was enough.
* * *
Immediately after Gu Yangcheon left the inn.
Yubaek stared at the entrance with placid eyes. His previous smiling face was gone, replaced by a cold, frosty mask.
Jicheol pushed himself up from the wreckage. “…Elder…”
Yubaek looked at him. His gaze was like a freezing downpour. Jicheol trembled.
“…I am sorry.”
His voice shook, but it did nothing to soften Yubaek’s expression.
“Useless fool.”
“...”
“You couldn’t even handle something as simple as this, forcing me to step in.”
Jicheol secretly clenched his fist. “Elder… But they were more than I expected…”
“Are you making excuses to me now?”
“N-no, sir! How could I…!”
“You were the one who said you could handle them, that they were just young prodigies. Have you forgotten?”
Jicheol hurriedly tried to change the subject. “I was too careless. If you give me one more chance, this time I will definitely—!”
“Not necessary.”
“…!”
A shadow fell over Jicheol’s face. He thought his chance at glory had been snatched away. However, Yubaek was thinking something entirely different.
‘He’s not on the right level.’
Yubaek had judged that this was no longer a matter for someone like Jicheol to meddle in.
‘That boy just now.’
A face surfaced in Yubaek’s mind—the young man who had cornered Jicheol. The young man who had been a hair’s breadth away from snapping Jicheol’s neck.
‘The Lesser King of Hell, was it?’
He was the youth who had shaken the Central Plains just a few years ago. The youngest to ever reach the Fusion Realm. Yubaek had never believed those rumors.
But now was different.
Squeeze.
Yubaek looked down at his own hand. His palm was faintly damp with sweat.
“...”
Was he nervous? He, the Starfall Sword Yubaek?
‘Hoho.’
Feeling a surge of murderous emotion, Yubaek coldly calmed his mind.
‘He really intended to kill him.’
If Yubaek hadn't stepped in, Gu Yangcheon would have truly killed Jicheol. His gestures and his gaze had made that clear. But the truly ridiculous thing was…
‘He did it even while knowing I was here.’
While acting that way, Gu Yangcheon knew Yubaek was watching from the shadows.
‘He knew everything.’
From the moment Gu Yangcheon entered this street, he knew Yubaek was in the vicinity. He had acted that way despite knowing—as if he were putting on a show for Yubaek’s benefit.
‘How frightening.’
As if things weren't complicated enough at Wudang already. For Yubaek, it felt like a massive storm had just walked through the front door.
Just then.
“Kuaaaargh!”
Suddenly, the fallen Jicheol began to scream in agony. Yubaek looked at him, startled.
“What’s wrong with him all of a sudden…?”
He soon understood. Jicheol was clutching his shoulder.
‘That arm.’
It was the shoulder Gu Yangcheon had been holding during the confrontation. Yubaek examined it.
“Hah.”
He let out a hollow breath. Jicheol’s shoulder was shattered—the bones crushed into fine powder.
He had done this in that brief moment?
‘But why is the boy reacting only now?’
Jicheol, who had been fine until a moment ago, was only now feeling the pain. Yubaek couldn't fathom the technique used to delay the sensation.
However, one thing was certain.
“…This is not good.”
Their visit was unlikely to go in a favorable direction for Wudang. Especially in a situation like this.
Rustle.
Yubaek ignored the screaming Jicheol and stood up. He spoke to a Wudang Taoist standing nearby.
“Send a letter to the Sect Leader at once.”
The Taoist met Yubaek’s gaze and trembled. The Elder's eyes were like ice.
“Tell him it seems we have a problem at the main sect.”