Chapter 558: Wind Cloud Ghost Thief (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 558: Wind Cloud Ghost Thief (3)
A cold draft drifted through the cave.
Despite the barren, arid surroundings, the air was thick with the scent of plum blossoms.
It was a first for him. He had never experienced a fragrance so rich, so profound—a scent far deeper than even the one carried by the Sect Leader himself.
Days had passed, yet the memory remained etched into Yung Pung’s mind with startling clarity. The aura of those plum blossoms had felt rugged, yet strangely comforting.
[It is good to meet you.]
The voice had echoed in his ears, and Yung Pung had strained to memorize every vibration of it.
[I can neither see nor hear you. But if my voice reaches you, then you must be a child of Mount Hua.]
It was merely a voice, nothing more. Yet, the moment he heard it, Yung Pung had instinctively dropped into a posture of deepest respect. He didn’t know who spoke, but every fiber of his being told him this was the only proper way to respond.
[How is Mount Hua these days? Do the plum blossoms still bloom in all their glory?]
Yung Pung had answered that they did.
[I truly hope so.]
The voice, as if unable to hear his reply, offered its own wistful conclusion. A faint longing and a deep, abiding trust were woven into those words.
[Nameless child of Mount Hua.]
[My name is Shincheol.]
Yung Pung’s eyes had nearly started from his head. In the long, storied history of the sect, many had held the Taoist name Shincheol. But only one man came to mind.
Shincheol, the Divine Sword of Mount Hua.
He was one of the legendary heroes who had quelled the Blood Demon’s Blood Disaster—a revered figure who had paved the way for the Mount Hua Sect’s current prosperity.
And he was the very ideal Yung Pung dreamed of becoming.
‘The greatest swordsman Mount Hua has ever produced.’
While Yung Pung was hailed as the youngest Plum Blossom Swordsman of his generation, that title had once belonged to the Divine Sword. Until Yeon Il-Cheon, the Zenith Under the Heavens, appeared in the Central Plains, Shincheol was an ancestor who had never known defeat. He was an elder whose will to make the plum blossoms bloom was said to have rivaled the World Tree itself.
It was said that if the Divine Sword wished for it, the sky would turn crimson with blossoms even on the darkest night. He was a titan who sought to protect the weak in the name of the sect, a hero who had thrown himself into the fires of war to hold up a collapsing Mount Hua.
He was a man worthy of the adoration of all ten thousand disciples. His character was described as gentle and virtuous—an immortal who could never turn a blind eye to the suffering of the sick and the frail.
How could anyone look upon such a legacy and not make it their ideal? The one Yung Pung wanted to defeat might have been a boy from the Gu Clan, but the one he wanted to become was the Divine Sword of Mount Hua.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Yung Pung’s heart hammered against his ribs. How could the Divine Sword be here? Was this truly his voice? No matter how he tried to steady himself, he couldn't. He had to believe. After experiencing a fragrance of plum blossoms that dense, how could he doubt?
He looked at the marble before him. The warm energy and the scent lingering at the tip of his nose all emanated from that single point.
[That we have met here must mean that destiny has finally come full circle.]
[Child. Child of Mount Hua.]
The Divine Sword’s voice sounded strangely sorrowful, heavy with an unspoken burden. As Yung Pung opened his mouth to respond...
[Soon, a calamity will descend upon this world.]
Before Yung Pung could process the declaration, the voice continued.
[The very fact that I am telling you this means that we... no, that I have failed.]
Yung Pung froze. Failed? What could the Divine Sword have failed at? History said the Blood Disaster had been stopped by him and the other heroes.
[I am sorry to leave such a burden to my successors.]
That’s not true.
It’s not true at all, Yung Pung wanted to scream. But his voice could not reach the past.
[Nameless child of Mount Hua.]
[I hope that you will finish the story that I could not.]
It was a request, nothing more. But to Yung Pung, it was everything. The man he idolized was entrusting him with his unfinished legacy. That was more than enough.
Without hesitation, he had reached out and grabbed the marble. He threw himself open to the torrent of energy, storing it within his body. As the essence of plum blossoms filled his dantian, Yung Pung knew for certain: this energy was his. Accepting it was as natural as breathing. Though it had a sharp, rugged edge, its roots were the same as his own.
The energy settled into his body as if returning home. By the time he regained his senses, his body had been fundamentally altered. His bones were denser, his acupoints flowed with a refined Taoist Qi unlike anything he’d felt before, and his cultivation realm had surged.
It was a legendary fortunate encounter.
Yung Pung exhaled, his breath heavy with the mist of Taoist Qi.
‘Have I... truly become his successor?’
To finish what that great man could not—it was a chilling, monumental task. But for Yung Pung, it set his soul ablaze. He could do it. He had to do it. He didn't know what calamity was coming, but he would follow in the Divine Sword’s footsteps and stop it.
That was what he had believed.
“What the hell is this...?! Get away from me!”
But looking at the scene before him now, Yung Pung felt a surge of an emotion he couldn't identify. An emotion he had never felt in his entire life.
* * *
Something was wrong.
That was my first thought as the situation spiraled.
‘This isn’t good...’
Amidst the chaos, I glanced down at my right arm. Something was wrapped tightly around my forearm where there should have been nothing.
‘...Shit.’
I cursed inwardly. The object was all too familiar. It was the exact same thing I’d been wearing on my left arm for years. The only difference was that this one was crimson.
‘And the one on my left is pale blue.’
Actually, even that wasn't a real difference. The one on my left had been crimson when I first got it, too.
‘It’s the Solar Light.’
The thing that had latched onto my right arm was definitely the Solar Light. Seeing it up close, there was no doubt. This was the signature weapon of Elder Shin.
Which meant...
‘Two Solar Lights?’
One on the left, one on the right. Both were the same treasure.
‘How the hell did this happen?’
Questions swirled, but I didn't have the luxury of pondering them.
“...That thing.”
I looked up. The Sword Queen was there, along with Gu Ryunghwa and Yung Pung. And, of course, that old geezer Woobaek was watching from the back with an amused expression.
I immediately shifted my features, putting on a mask of utter shock and confusion.
“Wh-what is this?”
I winced internally. My voice sounded stiff. Damn it. I tried my best, but my habit of being a terrible actor always cropped up at the worst times. Fortunately, the situation was so bizarre that no one seemed to notice my wooden delivery.
“Sword Queen... what’s going on? What is this thing?”
I directed the question at her. She stared at me, eyes wide.
“...That is... the Solar Light...”
“The S-Solar Light?!”
I turned toward her, eyes bulging dramatically.
“Do you mean the legendary weapon of Shincheol, the Divine Sword of Mount Hua? The eighth Sect Leader and the hero who stopped the Blood Disaster?!”
“Uh... yeah?”
“The legendary treasure that looks like a worn-out scrap of cloth, but is actually indestructible and can change shape according to the user’s will?!”
“...Uh... yes. You certainly know a lot about it.”
“Unbelievable! But why did it suddenly jump onto my arm?!”
I gave it everything I had. I figured even Elder Shin, who used to nag me daily about my lying skills, would have to give me a passing grade for this performance.
“...”
“Brother... are you feeling okay?”
Tsk. Apparently not.
‘Why? I thought that was pretty good.’
If acting wasn't working, I’d just have to play dumb and—
“Young Master Gu.”
“Hm?”
Grip.
Someone grabbed my right arm and hoisted it up. It was Yung Pung.
“This is a treasure of our sect.”
“Brother?”
I looked into his eyes, wondering why he was suddenly acting so intense.
‘Hmm...?’
I paused. There was something dark swirling in his pupils. It was an emotion I knew all too well—and one I found incredibly annoying.
“Please return it.”
Squeeze.
His grip tightened. I felt the pressure but ignored it, offering him a thin smile.
“Brother, I’m sorry. I’d like to give it back, but...”
Did he think I was keeping it because I wanted it? ‘I was surprised too, you bastard.’ A treasure literally flew through the air and shackled itself to me. How was I the bad guy?
“First, can you explain what happened? I’m a victim here, too.”
“...Return it.”
“Hmm.”
I tried to be reasonable, but Yung Pung wasn't listening. The strength in his hand was reaching bone-crushing levels. I considered explaining further, but then I just sighed.
‘Ah, this is getting annoying.’
The moment that thought crossed my mind, my arm moved on its own.
“Wait, everyone just calm down—”
The Sword Queen rushed in to intervene, sensing the tension, but...
WHAM!
“...!”
My hand was faster.
“Gack...”
Yung Pung took the hit right to the jaw. He let out a strangled groan and collapsed. I caught him by the collar to ‘support’ him so he wouldn't hit the dirt too hard, then looked at the Sword Queen.
Her face was a mask of pure bewilderment; I had struck him without a shred of hesitation. I met her gaze and asked calmly.
“Could you please explain that again?”
“...”
“I didn’t quite catch it the first time.”
I said it with a smile, but the air in the room had already turned ice-cold.
* * *
I managed to get the situation under control after that. Yung Pung was out cold, but with the Sword Queen and Gu Ryunghwa there, it wasn't a disaster.
‘Though it almost turned into a real headache.’
I’d moved past it, even if the others were still reeling. ‘Well, what can you do? It’s not like I asked for this.’ For once, I was actually innocent, which made the whole thing feel even more unfair.
I looked down at my right arm. It was empty now. I took a breath, recalling how it had played out.
‘Thankfully, it was obedient.’
The Solar Light on my left arm refused to budge no matter how much I complained. But the new one? It listened. When I wanted it off, it slid right off. That was the only reason I wasn't currently being branded a thief who snatched sect treasures out of thin air.
The problem remained: ‘Why did it happen?’
Why did the Solar Light come to me? According to the Sword Queen, the moment she set the box on the table, the cloth escaped and bolted straight for me while I was outside.
‘What is this, a horror movie?’
I let out a hollow laugh. I’d never heard of a treasure possessing its own will like that. I wondered if there was a lingering soul attached to it, but I couldn't feel a thing from the fabric.
I had a few theories.
‘The most likely reason is Elder Shin’s energy inside me.’
Since it was his weapon, it made sense that it would react to his power. However...
‘Then what about Yung Pung?’
That created a contradiction. Yung Pung claimed to have found Elder Shin’s legacy in that cave. If he truly had the inheritance, the Solar Light should have gone to him—or at least reacted to him.
‘But it didn't.’
That led to a nagging question. The "trace" Yung Pung found...
‘Is it really Elder Shin’s?’
The thought had been stuck in my head like a splinter. Did Yung Pung truly become the successor? If so, what am I? What is this Solar Light?
It was a puzzle that would be easy to solve if the old man were here, but in his absence, I had to think. I was certain I was his successor, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.
‘I’m not convinced that kid’s energy is fake.’
That was the problem. The energy Yung Pung possessed was definitely the old man’s. I was sure of it after spending a few days around him. It was the exact same power. That’s why I’d been working so hard to keep our energies from resonating.
Tsk.
‘This is a mess.’
Solar Light or not, this was getting complicated. It would be so much simpler if one of us were a fraud, but the fact that both felt "real" was infuriating.
‘That damn old man, picking the worst time to disappear.’
I cursed him internally, then immediately felt a prick of guilt. He was out there taking care of things on my behalf, after all.
So, even though I hated the direction this was heading...
‘I’ll deal with that later.’
For now, I had a job to do. I shifted my weight, pressing my foot down.
“Guuuaaaargh!”
A pained groan erupted from the floor. I looked down at the man writhing under my boot, his face twisted in agony.
“I’m a man of my word,” I said.
I always kept my promises, no matter what. And I was keeping one now.
“I told you earlier.”
Fear flooded my opponent’s eyes. I leaned in, enjoying the look on his face, and smiled.
“If you draw your sword, you die.”
At those words, Jicheol, the Righteous Dragon Sword of Wudang, began to tremble.