Chapter 642: The Thunderous Sword (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 642: The Thunderous Sword (3)
‘That absolute idiot.’
No, not Woo Hyuk.
More accurately, I was cursing the bastard currently occupying Woo Hyuk’s body.
How many times was he going to get his body snatched? Fuck, I was getting tired of saving him.
‘If he was going to be like this, I should’ve just let him lose it. Goddammit.’
The situation was absurd. I had saved him through blood, sweat, and tears, only for him to let some unknown entity hijack his form again.
‘Is this guy really a genius?’
A peerless prodigy. The greatest talent of the Wudang Sect, the star of the Meteor Generation. A monster who, had he not needlessly thrown his life away in my past life, would have undoubtedly contended for the title of Sword King. That was Woo Hyuk.
But seeing the state he was in now, I was starting to doubt his talent. At this point, it was like he was hanging a sign on his chest saying, “Please! Use my body!”
‘Besides...’
I scowled, glaring at the entity.
‘What the hell possessed him this time?’
For a moment, I suspected it might be Mang. I thought he was dead, but what if he had survived and resurfaced using Woo Hyuk as a vessel?
The thought crossed my mind, but I immediately shook my head.
‘No.’
It wasn't Mang. It wasn't some mere bastard like him.
This was an existence so overwhelming that I felt bad even comparing it to someone like Mang.
Tingle—!
My fingertips trembled. It was an unfamiliar sensation—my body reacting on pure instinct. My gut was screaming at me that this thing was dangerous.
‘This is driving me crazy.’
The corners of my mouth twitched. This was a level of pressure I hadn't felt even when facing Mang, or the White-Grade Demon that seemed to be his true form.
It was so sharp. I was genuinely terrified.
Was this what a legendary blade felt like? A sword forged and honed for an eternity by a master craftsman? The figure before me felt less like a man and more like a keenly sharpened edge.
It felt absurd, but that was the only way to describe it.
‘I can’t feel any Qi.’
There was no discernible energy, which only made it more chilling. It meant this crushing pressure came purely from his presence alone.
A martial artist’s presence usually stems from the foundation they’ve built—their Qi reserves, the level of their external arts, the depth of their internal cultivation. All of it combines to form their aura.
So, what was this person?
“…Haaa….”
I struggled to control my breathing for a few seconds, forcing my pounding heart to steady. I flexed my fingers.
Could I win?
The animalistic side of my brain screamed at me to charge, but my instincts were colder than expected. I couldn't see a path. I couldn't see an opening. I could only feel the barest hint of his existence, and that uncertainty was the only thing keeping me from moving.
A few more seconds passed in this suffocating standoff.
“Hmm.”
The entity wearing Woo Hyuk’s face let out a sound. A low breath. I frowned at the sound of his voice. His expression remained blank, yet I got the distinct impression he was smiling.
“Your senses are sharp. I commend you. That hesitation saved your life, and it will continue to save you in the future.”
“...”
A chill ran down my spine. They sounded like arrogant words, but they carried the weight of absolute truth. He truly believed it—and funnily enough, so did I.
Without relaxing my guard, I spat out a question.
“Who the hell are you?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. Woo Hyuk naturally has a bit of a dopey, laid-back look, but in terms of having a punchable face, he’s right up there with that scoundrel from the Namgung Clan. Seeing that face wear such a sharp expression was incredibly annoying.
“Would you even recognize the name? I am but a remnant of the past.”
“Then get the hell out of that body. The owner didn't give you permission, so why the fuck did you crawl in there?”
The man actually chuckled at my snarl.
“Smiling?”
“How rare. And amusing. It has been a long time since anyone has addressed me with such a vulgar tongue.”
The man shifted his right arm slightly. My body reacted instantly, taking a step back before I could even think. My skin crawled from the sheer killing intent.
Was he attacking? I held my guard, staring him down, but he stopped his hand and spoke again.
“Normally, I would have taught you a lesson in manners. But I find myself missing that way of speaking, so I shall let it slide.”
“What kind of bullshit is that? If you have something to say, say it straight.”
If I knew exactly who I was dealing with, I might have watched my mouth. But this damn tongue of mine has a mind of its own. I know my place, but I just can't help it. This goddamn personality is never going to change.
I was barking at him while my life hung by a thread, yet the man’s demeanor remained unshaken.
“You resemble him. No? Yes, you do. I miss him—that wretched fellow, especially.”
“What the...”
I tried to press him for answers, but the words died in my throat. I had finally noticed the state of my surroundings.
“…Goddammit.”
I had been so focused on the confrontation that I only now saw the anomaly.
Everything had stopped.
The Dishonored Venerable, who had been about to block my path, was frozen mid-motion. Seong Yul was a statue, caught in the exact moment of drawing his sword. The Black Lion stood motionless, hand gripping his greatsword to protect the Palace Lord.
The drifting embers in the air hung like stationary lanterns. The flickering snow dokkaebi were frozen as solid afterimages.
Time had stopped.
It was a spectacle as marvelous as the martial prowess I had seen from my father, but it was a phenomenon I had witnessed several times before. Right now, I needed to focus on what this meant rather than the wonder of it.
“…Who are you?”
I immediately shifted my tone. The man let out a small, knowing laugh.
“Quick to adapt. It seems you already know the answer.”
“...”
His words hit like a dagger. Yes, the moment I saw the frozen world, I realized who he was. If it had only happened once or twice, I might have been unsure. But I had experienced this more times than I could count on one hand.
I had just been hoping I was wrong.
If my guess was correct, it wasn't just strange for him to be in Woo Hyuk’s body—I never expected to meet him like this.
‘I momentarily forgot this was the North.’
To be precise, I had forgotten the legends said he was here. Even if I had remembered, I wouldn't have expected an encounter.
‘The timing is all wrong.’
There were too many variables to deal with him now. I had planned to seek him out much later.
‘To think he’d appear in person.’
And of all people, he chose the body of my idiotic friend.
Should I offer a formal salute? As I hesitated, he spoke first.
“Even if you know the answer, there are words that must be exchanged.”
In the frozen world, the man began to walk.
Crunch.
The sound of snow being crushed under his boots sent a fresh wave of tingles through my body.
“There is no need to remember my name for long. I have abandoned all attachment to it.”
He walked with his hands behind his back, exuding a natural, hegemonic air. Of everyone I had ever met, his presence was the most overwhelming.
“I have been called many things. But as my birth follows my surname, I shall identify myself accordingly.”
The man stood before me, his eyes as sharp as blades.
“I am Myung of the Namgung Clan.”
“...”
“It is a pleasure to meet you.”
The Thunderous Sword of the Heavens, Namgung Myung.
The hero of the Namgung Clan, the man said to have reigned over the heavens by unleashing lightning from the tip of his sword.
“You descendant of that damned fellow.”
He had finally appeared before me.
* * *
A short while ago.
Around the time Gu Yangcheon was locked in a desperate struggle with the White-Grade Demon.
Inside the Ice Palace, in the corridor leading to the Palace Lord’s chambers.
Whoosh.
A freezing wind whistled through a gaping hole in the wall. A young man walked down the hallway, a somewhat awkward expression on his face.
‘It’s quiet.’
Strangely quiet. The wind howled and voices echoed from outside, but to the young man, the silence was internal.
‘Why is it so quiet?’
The usual cacophony of whispers in his head was gone. It was an anomaly. It was something he had longed for, yet now it only filled him with unease.
‘Is it because of him?’
Whenever his friend who had come to the North was near, the noises would cease, only to return when they parted. But even now, being apart, there was nothing. No whispers. No noise.
He couldn't understand it.
Mulling this over, the young man reached his destination and stopped. An intense chill brushed his cheek. Woo Hyuk swallowed hard as he looked at the scene before him.
He saw a corpse in a gruesome state.
The body was desiccated, as if every drop of energy had been drained from it, losing its original form entirely. The woman had died without even being able to close her eyes—a pitiful sight.
Woo Hyuk leaned down and gently closed her eyelids.
“....”
He had nothing to say. So this is how it ends. That was the only thought that remained.
Did he feel relieved? Woo Hyuk asked himself, but he couldn't find an answer.
— Listen to me. If you do, I will save the child you hold in your heart.
The curse of the bloodline. Jeonui had learned to maximize it, using it as both a threat and a desperate plea.
If he were to ask where it all went wrong, perhaps it was the moment he decided to come here. Or perhaps, being born in this land was the mistake from the very beginning.
Yes, that was likely it. It was a fact he had never denied from the day he was born. Not when he was abandoned by his family. Not when his father, unable to handle his own son, tried to execute him under the guise of "justice." And not even when he broke through it all and fled to the Central Plains. He had never forgotten.
That was his life.
How laughable it was that after surviving all that, he had returned to this land. His father, intimidated by Woo Hyuk’s mastery, had sought him out while hiding his true, ambitious nature. It was grotesque to see him act so friendly, using the name he had abandoned as a child.
He knew then that he had already severed all ties. That was why he had felt nothing but a hollow emptiness when his father died with his throat torn out.
‘They call it a hometown.’
A place held deep in the heart, a place of longing. To Woo Hyuk, this place was simply hell. A frozen hell that would never thaw.
In a corner of that hell, Woo Hyuk turned his back on the dead woman. He still didn't understand her obsession with him or the emotions that drove her to act so pathetically, but he didn't want to look at her anymore.
His emotions were growing cold, matching the weather. Feeling this unfamiliar numbness, Woo Hyuk tried to stoke a fire within himself. He couldn't let his emotions die. He had to keep them alive. There was nothing more pathetic than a person who had dried up inside.
Woo Hyuk stood up and looked behind him.
The biting cold remained, but a translucent figure now stood there. It was a familiar face. It had to be; he looked exactly like Woo Hyuk’s master. Only the soul was different.
[Are you finished with your farewells?]
Woo Hyuk bowed his head. “…Thank you for your consideration.”
[What was your relationship with the girl? Were you lovers?]
Woo Hyuk gave a faint, bitter smile. “Not at all. If I had to define it, we were closer to enemies.”
[Hmm.]
The man didn't press further. He didn't ask why one would treat an enemy with such care. He simply wasn't interested. That lack of interest gave Woo Hyuk a strange sense of comfort.
“Please tell me how I should address you, Senior,” Woo Hyuk asked, his voice laced with tension.
It was only natural. Anyone from the Central Plains would react this way if they knew who this man was. Well, maybe except for one person. That Mad Dog bastard might be his friend, but he was anything but normal.
[A title is not important. As long as you show basic courtesy, you may call me whatever you wish.]
“In that case, I will call you Senior Thunder God.”
The man’s brow twitched. [What pointless flattery.]
He had been called that before, though he was more often known by other names. To deliberately call him a "God" (神) was a clear attempt to curry favor.
[Let us put aside such trivial chatter. I wish to get to the main point.]
“I am listening.”
As he answered, Woo Hyuk studied the man with fascination.
‘He looks just like him.’
He was the spitting image of his master, the Monster of Wudang. He was an ancestor, so a resemblance was expected, but this was uncanny. They could have been twins.
A wave of longing hit him. Woo Hyuk smiled bitterly. ‘To think I would meet him... here.’
When he had first heard about this person while in the underground, Woo Hyuk had been utterly shocked. How could he not be? The hero of the Namgung Clan who had saved the world in the distant past was slumbering in the North.
‘A Death Echo...’
To a disciple of Wudang, the existence of such a thing was fascinating. It was just a shame that he was the one to encounter it.
‘I am not worthy.’
There were two scions of the Namgung Clan in the North. One had abandoned his surname for Wudang but could reclaim his heritage at any time. The other was a woman who might become the first female Lord in the clan’s history.
‘Though she’ll probably become the Sword Queen first.’
Woo Hyuk was certain of it. She was a natural-born swordswoman whose talent was as vast as the northern snows. Facing the greatest legend of the Namgung Clan in this situation felt like a waste. It was a shame his master and junior sister weren't here instead.
[What is it you seek from me?]
Woo Hyuk flinched. It seemed he had been staring for too long.
“My apologies. You resemble someone I know, and I lost myself in thought.”
[Someone from the Namgung Clan?]
“Yes... that’s right.”
[I see.]
His reaction was dry. Even after hearing that the Namgung Clan still thrived, he didn't seem to care. There wasn't a sliver of interest—a cold reaction for an ancestor.
Woo Hyuk tried to ignore it. “…So, the main point you wished to discuss, Senior?”
Namgung Myung’s echo answered with the same stoic expression.
[A calamity will soon befall the world.]
He skipped the preamble and went straight to the grim reality. Woo Hyuk’s eyes widened.
“A calamity? What do you mean?”
[There is not much time left. The breaking of the seal is proof of that.]
“Senior, what on earth—”
Flustered, Woo Hyuk tried to interrupt, but Namgung Myung silenced him with a look.
[Much has been twisted, but it is not too late to set things right. Therefore, I have a request for you, with a great boon as collateral.]
“A request?”
[Yes.]
His sharp, blue eyes—the color of the deep sea or a clear sky—locked onto Woo Hyuk.
[Become my descendant.]
“...!” Woo Hyuk’s breath hitched.
[Take up your sword for the sake of the world. In exchange, I shall grant you everything I have left in this land.]
A jolt ran through Woo Hyuk’s body. Namgung Myung narrowed his eyes and continued.
[It is a shame you are not of the main family line, but that cannot be helped. Consider it your fate.]
“I’m sorry.”
[Yes, so first, the internal art within your body... Hmm?]
Namgung Myung paused, his expression shifting as if he had misheard.
[What did you just say?]
“I...” Woo Hyuk repeated his answer, looking somewhat bewildered. “I’m sorry... I’m afraid that will be difficult.”
[…?]
A heavy silence fell over the corridor. Woo Hyuk cautiously watched Namgung Myung, who seemed to be processing the fact that he had just been rejected.
After a long thirty seconds, Namgung Myung finally spoke.
[…Why?]
He genuinely didn't seem to understand.