Chapter 162
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: The Wind from the North Sea (2)
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“Oh? Young Master.”
“Ah, you’re here.”
“Yes. Are you going out?”
“Yeah, I have somewhere to be.”
“Should I come with you…?”
“No need. You just focus on training with the sword manual I gave you. It’ll take some time for it to become second nature.”
“Ah… yes, sir.”
Seo Ryang, who had hurried out the gate, was covering his face with a large bamboo hat.
Ma Dongpil tilted his head.
“Why is he covering his face like that?”
Just then, a weary voice came from behind.
“He must be embarrassed.”
Because Seo Ryang's behavior was unusual, he hadn't noticed So Yeonsim's presence.
“Greetings, Lord of the Garden of Joy.”
“There's no need for such a formal greeting, Guard Ma.”
“Not at all. But what brings you here…?”
“I came to do some persuading and ended up having a good workout.”
“Persuading?”
“About the special protection detail.”
“Ah!”
“The First Squad Leader subtly mentioned it to me as well. I came to pay him back for the cup of tea I had.”
Ma Dongpil smiled.
But it was only for a moment.
“Did you have a spar?”
“Yes.”
Ma Dongpil looked at So Yeonsim with envy.
She looked like she was struggling just to take a step. The demonic energy radiating from her was extremely unstable.
“It seems you had quite an intense exchange.”
“It wasn't quite like that.”
Right, it wasn't ‘quite like that’ at all.
*‘He's incredible.’*
So Yeonsim shook her head, recalling their recent bout.
*‘Is it because he's reached the peak of demonic arts? Or is it innate talent? Just where do those instincts come from…?’*
She was a master pugilist of her generation, having perfected the Heavenly Demon Thunderclap Fist. While many in the Cult were stronger than her, no more than five surpassed her understanding of fist techniques.
*‘He's still just a beginner, but he already has a clear grasp of the path to its ultimate secrets.’*
The ultimate principle of the Thunderclap Fist is to subdue the body with a single strike and annihilate the enemy with the second. It dictates that one should never need more than three fists to dispatch a foe.
This holds true for any technique of the Thunderclap Fist. It is supremely domineering and fierce, yet, uncharacteristically for a demonic art, it prioritizes subduing the enemy before deciding whether to kill or spare them.
*‘The Cult Leader couldn't have taught him this.’*
It wasn't because she knew the Cult Leader's personality, but because she could tell from the Third Young Master's movements.
*‘With every exchange, every clash, the techniques are embedding themselves in his body at a terrifying speed. At this rate, it won't take him long to achieve mastery.’*
A flicker of envy passed through So Yeonsim's eyes.
“…A genius truly is different.”
“I don't think so.”
“Hmm?”
So Yeonsim looked at Ma Dongpil.
Ma Dongpil said calmly.
“You were thinking of the Young Master, were you not?”
“I was.”
“Yes. That is why I say so.”
So Yeonsim's eyes sparkled.
“You've been the closest to the Young Master, Guard Ma. But you don't think he's a genius? You've watched his terrifying growth firsthand, haven't you?”
“We would first have to define the limits of talent. Whatever the standard, the Young Master is certainly a man of outstanding talent. However, I can say with confidence that he does not possess a heaven-sent martial gift.”
So Yeonsim was taken aback. She never expected him to assess the man he served in such a way.
“Why do you think so? If he weren't a genius, he couldn't have reached the peak of demonic arts at such a young age.”
“Watching the Young Master, I've come to realize something. Talent greatly influences growth, but it is not an indispensable element.”
“Are you trying to say he worked that hard?”
“Hard work is the foundation.”
“Then what is it?”
Ma Dongpil turned his head toward the gate.
Seo Ryang was long gone, but Ma Dongpil's gaze, as if looking at an afterimage he had left behind, was filled with deep admiration.
“To synchronize one's very life with the martial way. To never separate oneself from the path of martial arts. In other words, to become an incarnation of the martial way itself.”
“I find that hard to understand. Most martial artists synchronize their lives with the martial way. They have to, or they can't become strong.”
“But they don't try to infuse the principles of martial arts into the simple act of lifting a spoon, do they?”
“...!”
“That, too, must be the Young Master's own method, cultivated through effort.”
“Guard Ma, are you saying that even with the same amount of effort, one must do it efficiently?”
Ma Dongpil did not answer.
He agreed with So Yeonsim's words, but he believed there was something more to the Young Master. In any case, he knew that talent hadn't played a significant role in the Young Master's incomprehensible growth.
“Are you busy?”
“Pardon?”
“If you are not busy, would you grant me a spar as well?”
Surprise bloomed on So Yeonsim's face. From what she had seen, Ma Dongpil was not the type to initiate a request for a spar.
But it lasted only a moment.
“Oh, I'm always busy. The Garden of Joy is probably the busiest organization after the Office of the Grand Marshal.”
“Ah, I see. My apologies.”
“But well…”
So Yeonsim smiled.
“Slacking off for a day should be fine.”
“Thank you.”
So Yeonsim plopped down on the training ground floor.
“Let's eat first, though. I'm this exhausted just from exchanging unarmed blows without internal energy. I must be getting old.”
***
“Hoh?”
Yang Jeong, having received the letter, smiled at Yeo Ganghui.
“The Third Young Master has accepted the Young Palace Lord's request.”
“Ah, is that so?”
Yeo Ganghui beamed.
Yang Jeong found himself marveling. Even after seeing him for over ten days, that beautiful face still took him by surprise.
“It's truly fascinating.”
“Pardon?”
“I don't know how a man's face can be so beautiful.”
Immediately after saying it, Yang Jeong realized his mistake.
“My apologies. You probably don't like hearing such things.”
“Not at all. It's a compliment about my looks, after all. I'm actually quite pleased.”
“Haha.”
Yang Jeong rose from the wooden bench and asked.
“Shall this old man give you two some space?”
“Ah, I would be grateful if you did.”
“As you know, my squad members hiding in the bamboo forest and I are tasked with your protection, Young Palace Lord. We will give you some distance, but please understand that we must maintain a certain proximity.”
“Of course.”
Yang Jeong turned around.
“Young Palace Lord.”
“Yes?”
“I don't think it's necessary to say this… but since we've known each other for a few days, I'd like to offer a few words of caution out of an old man's concern.”
“What is it…?”
“Be careful.”
Still walking away with his back turned, Yang Jeong continued.
“In the past, the Third Young Master was a man so ruthless he was called a tyrant. I've never spoken to him directly, but if even half the rumors are true, he is not an easy person to deal with.”
“Ah… I see.”
Yeo Ganghui lowered his head.
“Thank you for your concern.”
“Do you know what the Third Young Master is called within the Cult these days?”
“...?”
“The Demonic Lord.”
“...!”
“As this era of peace has continued, the demons of our Cult have lost some of their belligerence. They are different from us retired, old demons. However, our juniors are also inheritors of demonic blood. They, too, harbor a madness within them that is no less than our own—perhaps even greater.”
Yang Jeong stopped walking and glanced back at Yeo Ganghui.
Yeo Ganghui's face had noticeably stiffened.
“And it is they who call the Third Young Master the Lord of Demons. No fancy epithets are attached. Those two words, 'Demonic Lord,' are imbued with the admiration of those young demons.”
“...”
“I'm not unaware that you have your own intentions, Young Palace Lord. And I don't particularly wish to know them. But given who you are dealing with, it would be best not to provoke him with unnecessary words.”
With those final words, Yang Jeong disappeared into the bamboo forest.
Yeo Ganghui's eyes deepened.
*‘The Demonic Lord...’*
He recalled the conversation of the old masters who had escorted him here.
- Incredible. At his age, he's cultivated martial arts that can stand against the heads of the Seven Houses? The kid's a complete monster.
- Ahem, watch your tongue. Is he not the Cult Leader's disciple?
- Ahem.
- I heard he completely lost his martial arts, but to have grown so much in two years... he's no ordinary man.
- His martial arts are one thing, but his decisiveness is even more impressive. To force a negotiation with the heads of the Seven Houses… even with the authority of an inspector, it takes extraordinary nerve.
- Huh? Negotiation? What are you talking about?
- Still living with your ears closed, I see. The Cult Leader recently appointed the Third Young Master as a special inspector and sent him out, did he not?
- Oh? Passing over the First and Second Young Masters?
- Exactly. And it seems the Third Young Master properly put the Seven House Lords in their place. I heard he even forced the Fighting King Demonic House to seal their gates.
- Whoa, how audacious.
He knew a fair bit about the Seven Demonic Houses. Weren't they the martial families that had served as the hands and feet of the Divine Cult for hundreds of years, becoming a great pillar of the demonic martial world?
And at such a young age, he had carried out an inspection on the heads of such families. As one of the old masters had said, it was something impossible for a person with ordinary nerve.
*‘They say martial arts can be built through effort, but nerve is something you're born with.’*
Yeo Ganghui's eyes glittered.
*‘This is getting more and more interesting.’*
It was said that the current Heavenly Demon, Lee Cheonsang, had never given an official duty to any disciple except the First Young Master. For such a Cult Leader to skip over the Second Young Master and give a duty to the Third meant the Third Young Master's abilities were that exceptional.
*‘As long as his abilities are outstanding, it's fine.’*
Yeo Ganghui bit his lip.
*‘I don't like relying on others, but... I have no choice.’*
In any case, it would be a good thing for the Divine Cult as well. He was confident of that.
*Hooo.*
Taking a deep breath, Yeo Ganghui sat cross-legged on the wooden bench. It was to calm his racing heart.
How much time passed like that?
*Rustle.*
The sound of bamboo leaves brushing against each other rang in his ears.
For some reason, the wind seemed to blow stronger than usual. The sound of bamboo stalks clashing against each other sounded like rain.
*Step.*
Yeo Ganghui's sharp eyebrows twitched.
*Step, step.*
Someone approached, stepping on the fallen bamboo leaves.
*‘He's here.’*
*Thump, thump.*
His heartbeat quickened.
*‘He's neither hiding his presence nor revealing it.’*
From his steady gait and stride, he was undoubtedly a well-trained martial artist. It had to be the Third Young Master he had heard so much about.
A formless energy rose from Yeo Ganghui's body.
*Ssssk.*
The energy, moving as if carried by the wind, tried to probe the approaching man's body. He wanted to see for himself what a great master he was.
However.
*Twwaaang!*
*‘Hmph!’*
The energy he sent out was repelled at a terrifying speed.
*‘The Soft Yin Energy of my Hidden Curtain Mystic Arts is ineffective.’*
The Soft Yin Energy was a gentle and delicate energy, so much so that it could permeate objects. If sent with intent, even a supreme master would find it difficult to detect.
For such an energy to be repelled without even getting close meant his opponent was a frighteningly disciplined master.
*Thud.*
Finally, the footsteps stopped.
Yeo Ganghui opened his eyes.
*Ssssss.*
A cold energy naturally spread out, covering the ground around him with a layer of frost.
*Psssss.*
At the same time, a reddish heat began to rapidly melt the frost away.
“This is a place I'd never want to come back to, even in death, but there were times I missed the wind here.”
He was well over six feet tall, with an imposing physique.
His bamboo hat covered his face from the nose up, but a glance was enough to tell he was a young man not yet thirty.
“I'd like to enjoy this nice breeze, so please put that icy energy of yours away.”
*Swoosh.*
The cold energy emanating from Yeo Ganghui vanished as if washed away.
He rose from his seat.
“Are you the Third Young Master?”
“I am.”
The young man took off his bamboo hat.
For a moment, Yeo Ganghui couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter.
The young man, Seo Ryang, frowned. The area around his eye was darkly bruised, and his expression was sour, as if it still hurt.
“If you called me here for some trivial reason, you won't find it amusing.”