Chapter 560: This Venerable One
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 560: This Venerable One
One morning, a day after the fifth had passed.
A low murmur rippled through the gathered crowd. Most of them, dressed in the light blue uniforms that symbolized the Wudang Sect, had formed a tight circle as if to confirm a grim reality.
At the center of the circle lay a corpse.
The body belonged to a rising star, a prodigy destined to lead the future of the Wudang Sect—the Righteous Dragon Sword, Jicheol.
The Flying Star Sword, Woobaek, looked down at Jicheol’s cold remains in silence. A single sword thrust had pierced the boy's neck, claiming his life instantly. As blood soaked into the earth, a letter—seemingly a suicide note—lay abandoned beside him.
Its contents spoke of a tormented conscience, claiming he could no longer stomach Wudang’s narrow-minded hypocrisy. That was the gist of it.
Crunch.
After confirming the contents, Woobaek’s fist tightened until his knuckles turned white. Then…
Fwoosh—!
A staggering aura surged from his frame. Despite his withered, aged appearance, Woobaek’s power was immense—befitting one of the Hundred Masters of the Central Plains. The sheer pressure caused the surrounding objects to tremble violently.
“Ugh…”
“Haaah…”
The Taoists of Wudang staggered back, clutching their chests in agony. Amidst the pressure, Woobaek spoke, his eyes burning with a fierce light.
“When was the boy discovered?”
“A little after the Hour of the Tiger, Elder.”
“…The Hour of the Tiger.”
It was not long after the time he had ordered the operation to commence.
Grind.
Recalling this, Woobaek grit his teeth. Was his fury born of grief because Jicheol had taken his own life in disappointment? No.
Whose work is this?
Woobaek did not believe for a single second that Jicheol had committed suicide. Absolutely not. There was a simple reason for his conviction.
Wudang’s treasure is gone.
The sect's sacred treasure had vanished.
Seeing this, the third-generation disciples and a few of the second-generation disciples assumed the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief had struck. But Woobaek knew better. The first-generation disciples and the other elders did not share that delusion.
In the first place…
There is no Wind Cloud Ghost Thief.
The "Wind Cloud Ghost Thief" was a phantom, a fabrication from the very beginning. And in the midst of that lie, Jicheol had suddenly died—the very same Jicheol who was supposed to play the role of the thief during the night.
This was the work of an outsider.
Who is it? Woobaek wondered, his gaze turning frigid.
Who? Who dared to commit such an act within the walls of Wudang? And so cleanly, without leaving a single trace.
The handwriting on the letter is perfect, and there isn’t even a sign that another hand touched it.
It was so meticulously executed that it truly seemed as if Jicheol had written the note himself before slitting his own throat. It was unbelievable. Who could possibly pull off such a feat?
Could it be…
Was it really the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief?
The thought flashed through his mind for a moment, but Woobaek immediately dismissed it. That, too, was impossible. Decades had passed. The probability of a man who hadn't shown his face in all that time suddenly appearing for a stunt like this was astronomical. Moreover, the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief had never killed a single person during his heists.
He had to be excluded from the list of suspects.
Then who in the world could it be?
Woobaek exhaled a rough, jagged aura. He pondered the question again and again, but it was not a matter that required long deliberation. If it wasn't the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief, there were only a few options left.
If this happened inside Wudang, and it wasn’t one of our own…
The list of suspects narrowed to one, or at most, two.
“…I suppose I must pay a visit to our guests.”
With those words, Woobaek ordered the body to be collected and turned away. His demeanor was chillingly cold. The old man's eyes looked as if they could summon a blizzard.
However, in that gaze, there was no sign of grief for the death of a fellow Wudang martial artist. Not even the slightest flicker.
* * *
Amidst the chaotic atmosphere outside, I sat in my residence, drinking tea.
“Hmm.”
I took a sip and savored the flavor for a second.
“Tastes like shit…”
I set the cup down immediately. As expected, I still couldn’t understand what people found appealing about tea. With a snort, I pushed the cup away.
Across from me, Seong Yul was drinking his tea in silence. Watching him, I let out a smirk.
“Is it good?”
“…I do not know.”
“Right.”
His expression truly suggested he had no idea. Looking at that blank face, I spoke.
“Speak.”
“…Pardon?”
My sudden command caught him off guard.
“You have something you want to ask, don’t you?”
“How did you…?”
“It’s written all over your eyes.”
“...”
Anyone could see his eyes were brimming with questions. Annoyed by his frustrating silence, I prompted him.
“…It is about,” Seong Yul finally began, his eyes hesitant. “Back then, when I dueled with Young Master Sword Dragon… there is something I do not understand.”
“Back then? What about it?”
“How… did you stop it?”
I tilted my head, wondering what exactly he meant.
“My… killing intent. You suppressed it, did you not?”
“Ah.”
So that’s what he was talking about. He was asking about the time he had lost control of the Heavenly Killing Star and tried to murder Yung Pung, only for me to reel him in. Seong Yul’s eyes were filled with an intense curiosity, as if he had been dying to know.
No, rather than curiosity… was it hope? That was the impression I got.
Even if he asks how I did it…
There was no easy way to explain it.
“I just told you not to do it.”
“...”
That was the literal truth. I had simply told him to stop. However…
It’s just hard to explain, not that there isn’t a method.
I had used a specific technique. It wasn’t a martial art, and I hadn't used internal Qi or Demonic Qi. I had simply issued a ‘command.’ It was just that the command was a little special.
An advantage I gained after shedding.
Physical growth and changes in my dantian—including the expansion of my vessel—weren't the only things that had changed. Another power had been etched into my body. The Dark King had described it as an Authority held by a dragon.
Authority, he says.
The word itself sounded incredibly impressive. And in practice, it was quite formidable. At least, the Authority the Dark King had explained to me was certainly worthy of the title.
The Dark King, cursed by dragon’s blood, did not possess the full power of a dragon, but he had an immortal body and the Authority that dragons wielded. This Authority was not something that required a specific energy; it was a power one possessed simply by virtue of being a dragon.
The darkness the Dark King used—he said that was his Authority.
The power to create an inexplicable black barrier. The power to trap someone in darkness, forcing them to revive no matter how many times they died. It was a power that suited the Dark King perfectly.
He might have been called the Dark King because he possessed such a thing.
Whatever the case, a dragon’s Authority was exceptional. To possess such power simply by existing… was it not a truly unfair and absurd ability?
And that absurd power now resided within me, the one who had become a dragon. The problem was…
…if it’s such an amazing power, I don’t know why mine is like this.
Playing with darkness? The Authority of the Dark King, who became a half-dragon due to a curse, was cool and outstanding. Yet my own Authority was pitifully shabby in comparison.
Dragon’s Word? What the hell is Dragon’s Word?
That was my Authority. Simply put, it made whatever I said carry more weight. That was the extent of the power of Dragon’s Word as I saw it. It was truly ridiculous.
“…At least I won’t lose any arguments.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
It was funny enough that this was my so-called Authority, but it wasn’t even an all-powerful ability. It didn’t work on people above a certain level, so it felt awkward to even use. If anything… the power of Dragon’s Word was redundant when I already had Demonic Qi. If I could just turn them into Demonic Humans, they would listen to me anyway, so what was the point?
It’s no different from a tool to lessen my own guilt.
The guilt one feels when corrupting another. It wouldn’t be wrong to see it as an Authority meant to alleviate that burden.
Hilarious. It’s not like I use Demonic Humans unless they’re bastards I’m going to kill anyway.
Unless they deserved death, I wouldn’t turn them into Demonic Humans. That was my ironclad rule.
That said, it doesn’t seem completely useless.
Thinking that, I looked at Seong Yul.
It worked. It definitely worked back then.
When Seong Yul had unleashed the Heavenly Killing Star to kill Yung Pung, I had used Dragon’s Word on him. When I spoke with power, Seong Yul had momentarily released his killing intent.
Can Dragon’s Word control the Heavenly Killing Star?
The possibility intrigued me. That was the reason I hadn't turned Seong Yul into a Demonic Human yet. I was holding off to find the answer to that question.
I need to confirm it for sure.
If I determined it didn’t work, then I would corrupt him. That was the plan.
If it were my old self, I would have done it by now.
Beyond the experiment, there was another reason I was reluctant to turn Seong Yul into a Demonic Human.
If only that bastard had no connection to the Qinghai Sword.
If he weren't connected to that old man who died, I would have turned him long ago. The situation was irksome.
— May you find peace.
The face of the old man who had prayed for my peace came to mind. My hesitation in dealing with Seong Yul was solely because of that one memory.
Whether he knew this or not, Seong Yul looked at me and asked another question.
“Um… Young Master.”
“What.”
“May I ask one more thing?”
“What is it?”
What else was there? Then again, he probably had plenty to ask. What I’m going to do with him. Where we’re going. What the plan is.
If anything, it was strange that Seong Yul had been following me this long without asking a single thing. Just when I thought he would finally start digging…
“I wished to ask why Wudang would claim to be the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief.”
“…!”
At the completely unexpected question, my eyes widened. Seong Yul was staring back at me with his characteristic yellow eyes.
“You… How did you know?”
How on earth did he know? My voice was full of genuine surprise.
“I,” Seong Yul replied without a change in expression, “can sense the lies of others.”
“What?”
That was a curious answer. He could sense lies? I was about to ask for a more detailed explanation, but Seong Yul spoke first.
“Yesterday, when I faced the Flying Star Sword, I sensed falsehood from him.”
The letter stating the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief had appeared. The words spoken about it. Most of it was a lie.
“Oh…”
My eyes gleamed. If what he said was true, it was a remarkably useful ability.
Did the Sword Demon have an ability like this?
Certainly. There was a phrase the man from my past life always had on his lips.
[Hehehe… I despise lies. That is why you must die.]
The words he always uttered when killing an opponent.
Come to think of it, wasn't he the interrogator?
I recalled that the Sword Demon was usually the one who tortured captured enemies. Considering that, Seong Yul’s words had credibility.
“That’s fascinating. I didn't know such a thing was possible.”
At my remark, Seong Yul’s eyes widened in turn.
“…Do you believe me?”
“If you say so, then I suppose it must be true.”
Honestly, I only believed him because of my experience from my past life. Who else would believe such a thing so easily?
“That’s why I’m even more curious. Why are you telling me this?”
“...”
It was not a secret one shared lightly. The ability to detect lies was dangerous information. Moreover, Seong Yul was the Heavenly Killing Star. There were already plenty of reasons to kill him; it was strange that he would hand me another justification.
“…I am expressing myself to you, Young Master.”
“Expressing?”
“That I have such an ability. I am revealing it. It is one of my more useful talents.”
“Why?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Seong Yul looked at me and spoke calmly. “I must show you that I am useful in some small way. So that you will not abandon me, Young Master.”
“...”
For such calmly spoken words, they were remarkably chilling.
“…Wow.”
I thought he was just a crazy bastard who knew nothing of the world and was plagued by madness. But surprisingly, Seong Yul had a sharp eye.
Pretending to be clueless, was he watching everything?
He had realized I was weighing his fate. It seemed he had seen it all. Though it wasn’t actually about whether he was useful or not.
He’s useful even without that.
He was currently at the perfected Peak Realm before even reaching the age of thirty. And he possessed the talent to one day become the Sword Demon. That alone made Seong Yul’s value immense.
“What if I hear that information and decide to abandon or kill you anyway?”
“I believed it was a story of value to you, Young Master. As for killing me… it does not matter…”
Dying didn’t matter. But being abandoned was a problem. That was a subtle distinction.
“That’s a strange thing to say. Why are you so afraid of being abandoned by me?”
It hadn’t even been a month since we met. We had no affection for each other. From Seong Yul’s perspective, it would be natural to resent me for capturing and dragging him around. Yet he was spilling secrets to avoid being cast aside. I couldn’t understand it.
And.
“I do not know either,” Seong Yul admitted. “Therefore, I wish to take the time to find out the reason.”
“You’re one hell of a madman yourself.”
“...”
In other words, he was determined to follow me. I sighed, looking at him with a dumbfounded expression.
“Do whatever you want.”
In any case, I had to keep him with me. It wasn't a matter of abandoning him or not—at least not yet. With that thought, I changed the subject.
“You asked about the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief.”
It was the question Seong Yul had asked earlier: why Wudang had lied.
“It’s just politics.”
Politics. That was exactly what it was.
“The Sword of Wudang just became the Alliance Leader, and the Wudang Sect is growing as a result.”
It was a time when countless stories were emerging as they rode the tide of the era. The Alliance Leader was deploying swordsmen everywhere, increasing stability and raising his approval ratings. Thanks to that, Wudang’s standing was growing day by day.
And amidst that…
If a rumor spreads that the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief targeted Wudang…
Interest in them would skyrocket. The sect chosen by the legendary thief upon his return—it was a narrative goldmine.
On top of that.
I recalled Jicheol from last night.
They could swallow up Mount Hua’s treasure while they were at it.
The act he was about to commit, taking advantage of the Sword Queen’s absence. I had wondered why a guy with an injured arm would do such a thing, even if it was an order.
He did it because the circumstances were perfect.
A man with an injured arm would have been confined to the infirmary for treatment, meaning there was zero chance of him being suspected as the culprit.
And the guards on watch were probably all in on it.
There was a high probability that it had all been arranged beforehand. No, I was certain of it. Originally, Jicheol, posing as the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief, would have fled with the treasure. If that happened, Mount Hua would have held Wudang responsible for failing to protect it, but…
Public opinion would intervene.
—It was an item stolen by none other than the Wind Cloud Ghost Thief.
—Does it make sense to blame Wudang for failing to stop a legend?
It was highly likely that such talk would arise. That’s how public opinion worked.
It’s possible the story was arranged this far.
I hoped not, but there was a chance they had already coordinated with the Beggar’s Sect. If that happened, it would be difficult for Mount Hua to hold them responsible, and Wudang would…
Be able to keep both treasures.
It meant Wudang could gain the attention they wanted, "protect" their own treasure, and also acquire the Mount Hua treasure they had "lost." And even if Mount Hua ignored this and demanded responsibility…
They would have already gained the fame, and they could lower the standing of Mount Hua, which isn’t pro-Murim Alliance despite being an Orthodox sect.
No matter what happened, Wudang would benefit. What a goddamn mess. I wondered if this was how the so-called Orthodox Faction should be behaving.
They should be quietly practicing their martial arts. Instead, they’re playing these political games.
They’ll get their asses kicked during the Blood Disaster later. They were nothing but morons.
Ah, of course.
Thanks to them, my work was easier, though.
Thanks to a few overlapping strokes of luck, my own task had become simpler. All thanks to how rotten Wudang was. And that applied to the situation that was about to unfold as well.
Ssss.
I turned my eyes toward the presence I felt outside.
[Are you in?]
It seemed someone had arrived at my residence. At the voice, I got up and went outside. Several figures from Wudang had come, and at the center stood the Wudang elder, the Flying Star Sword, Woobaek.
Woobaek saw me and offered a thin smile. “You must have been resting. I apologize for intruding like this.”
“Not at all. What brings you here, Elder? You must be very busy.”
My words were a pointed reference to Jicheol’s death and the theft. At this, the corner of Woobaek’s eye twitched.
“…As you may have heard, things have become rather complicated.”
“I was just worrying about that. Are you alright?”
“…Haha. Thank you for your concern.”
To my concern, which didn’t contain an ounce of sincerity, Woobaek said, “Normally, I shouldn’t do this… but since this happened within the main sect, I have come to ask for your understanding on an unavoidable matter.”
“What is it?”
“Would it be alright if we searched your residence for a moment?”
“…!”
I immediately frowned. “Elder, are you suspecting me?”
“I apologize, Young Master Gu, but this is merely a confirmation.”
“Ha.”
I let out a sharp, indignant breath. Then I showed him my wrist—the one wearing the Suspicion-linking Thread that Woobaek had forced on me yesterday.
“You put this on me for surveillance. And now that something has happened, you want to conduct a search? What kind of nonsense is this…!”
“…I am sorry. However, this is for a thorough confirmation. I ask for your understanding.”
Grind.
I grit my teeth for effect. Then, with heavy, stomping footsteps, I walked out of my residence.
“…This is absurd. Do as you wish. However, I will not forget this disrespect shown by Wudang.”
“...”
As I stepped aside, growling, Woobaek nodded. Immediately, the Wudang martial artists stormed into the residence. They began to search as if they wouldn't leave a single speck of dust behind.
And not long after…
“E-Elder!”
A Taoist, his voice startled, brought something to Woobaek.
“I… I found it.”
The object, found in my drawer and brought over carefully, was a jade bracelet with a blue hue. Yes, it was the item Wudang had wanted to trade.
Seeing it, Woobaek looked at me with shocked eyes. “What is the meaning of this, Young Master?”
His voice was thick with cold fury. I stammered in response.
“Th-th-this… why is this in my drawer…! I-I don’t know anything about this!”
“...”
I tried my best to deny it, but Woobaek’s eyes had already turned dark.
“Immediately.” As if it were a sign of his fury, Woobaek’s voice trembled with rage. “Subdue them. Lock them in the prison. The Alliance Leader himself will decide their punishment.”
Woobaek spat out the words with a voice that sounded like he could kill me on the spot. At his command, the Taoists approached to seize me. I trembled as if terrified by the sight.
But inwardly, I was smiling broadly.
This will burn so well.
Dry, rotten firewood. It was the perfect material to fuel a massive blaze. And seeing what Wudang was doing now, they were providing all the fuel I needed.
As I was being quietly subdued, I silently sent a message inward.
Ttolddoli.
To the worm bastard that was likely playing somewhere in a faraway forest.
It’s ready. Bring them.
At that very instant.
Rumble—!
A vibration echoed from somewhere in the distant forest.