Chapter 88
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Growth (3)
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BANG!
With a rough yet refreshing sound, the main gate swung wide open.
At the same time, a clear voice, tinged with madness, echoed through the air.
“Wi Hongryeon has arrived! I’m here, Young Master!”
She came and went as if it were her own home now. Had Ma Dongpil seen her, he would have surely given her a harsh scolding.
But Ma Dongpil was in no state to do so.
Fwoosh! Fwoosh! Fwoosh!
Ma Dongpil’s body, drenched in sweat, moved across the training ground as he swung his sword.
His expression, however, was solemn, and the sword techniques he unleashed were heavy. It was truly astonishing that he could move so quickly while executing such weighty martial arts.
Wi Hongryeon’s eyes widened.
“Huh? What’s that?”
Fwoosh! Swish!
A sword cutting through the air, footsteps circling in all directions.
“Why the hell is he swinging his sword here? He has a perfectly good training ground at the Hall of Protectors.”
She walked to the edge of the training ground.
Just as she was about to shout at him to stop swinging his sword and tell her where the Young Master was.
Wi Hongryeon’s steps faltered unconsciously.
The sight of Ma Dongpil, completely focused on himself, was dazzling. It seemed as if his concentration wouldn't break even if lightning struck right before his eyes.
“…”
Watching him silently, Wi Hongryeon smacked her lips.
“Well, I can’t exactly interrupt this.”
Anyone in the demonic faction knew of the Berserk Demon Unit Commander's fiery temper.
But she was a demonic practitioner and a martial artist. She had no desire to break the concentration of a martial artist so dedicated to his training.
Deliberately muffling her steps, Wi Hongryeon walked around the training ground and spotted Aeng-hwa.
“Hey!”
“Gah! You scared me.”
“What’s there to be so surprised about? Hey, where did the Young Master go off to this time?”
*Does she think this is her living room or something?*
Aeng-hwa pouted and replied.
“He went to the Palace of the Demonic God.”
“Huh?! The Palace of the Demonic God? Why there?”
“I’m not sure…”
Wi Hongryeon grumbled.
“Damn it, did he go to see the Cult Leader? For someone with no official title, he seems busier than I am.”
“…Um.”
“What?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Aeng-hwa squeezed her eyes shut and spoke.
“Even so… your… your tone toward the Young Master is too disrespectful…”
“...?”
“…Yes. It’s just a bit much.”
Wi Hongryeon’s jaw dropped as she stared at Aeng-hwa.
Aeng-hwa tried her best to look defiant.
How could Aeng-hwa not have heard of the Berserk Demon Unit Commander’s notoriety?
But the person she served was the Third Young Master, Seo Ryang. Though her own status was low, she couldn't just stand by and watch someone treat her master disrespectfully.
Seeing her defiant expression, Wi Hongryeon spat on the ground.
“Damn it! Feeling brave because of who you work for, is that it?”
“That’s not it…”
“Ah, forget it! I don't want to hear it!”
“Yes, ma'am!”
“Can't even smack a little thing like you. I'll just have to endure it, I will.”
Pounding her chest, Wi Hongryeon's face was flushed red.
Aeng-hwa flinched. She instinctively felt that she shouldn't provoke her right now.
Just then, Ma Dongpil walked over.
“When did you arrive?”
“What? You done training?”
“It's a break. I'll start again in a little while.”
“For crying out loud. Hey! Why the hell are you swinging your sword here? Go train at the Hall of Protectors! Do you think this is your house?”
Ma Dongpil replied, looking dumbfounded.
“And why are you here?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know anything! I damn well don’t know! Shit, I come here every chance I get, you'd think he'd at least have the decency to stick around for a few days.”
“But when I actually get here, all I find is a sassy little pipsqueak and some guy swinging a weird sword…”
Suddenly, Wi Hongryeon’s eyes went wide.
“Huh? Huh?”
Her eyes were fixed on the sword in Ma Dongpil's hand. She could tell at a glance that it was no ordinary sword.
“Hey, Mr. Ma.”
“It’s Ma Dongpil.”
“What’s that sword of yours? Where’d you get it?”
Ma Dongpil cleared his throat.
“The Young Master gave it to me.”
“What? The Young Master gave you a treasure like that as a gift? Just you?”
“...?”
“What about me?”
*This is truly absurd.*
Shaking his head, Ma Dongpil walked back toward the training ground.
Wi Hongryeon shrieked.
“Hey! Where’s mine! Didn’t he prepare one for me? Hey! Hey, you bastard! I’m talking to you!!”
Hearing Wi Hongryeon’s almost melodious screams, Ma Dongpil smiled.
‘…Please come back soon, Young Master.’
*I don't think I can handle this woman.*
***
The moment Lee Cheonsang finished speaking, instinct took over, and he gripped his sword.
No, he wasn't even sure if it was instinct. Unconsciousness, intuition, instinct—any of those words would fit.
In any case, Seo Ryang realized.
That the very instant Lee Cheonsang stopped talking was the perfect moment to strike.
He perceived that this was the one and only opening to fell the giant that was Lee Cheonsang.
Perception was understanding, and with understanding came the instinct to attack. He blew past even the microscopic interval between understanding the situation, making a decision, and acting on it.
It was literally lightning. Seo Ryang's strike was fast enough to split an instant.
And that single strike, filled to the brim with his offensive instinct, was more lethal than any he had ever executed before.
KRA-KOOOM!!
A tremendous roar erupted as a thick cloud of dust billowed up.
“*Gasp, gasp!*”
Drip.
The cold sweat on his forehead trickled down his cheek and gathered at his chin. He was so out of breath that his vision swam.
He was a supreme master capable of pulling the unconscious into the realm of the conscious to perceive a fleeting moment, but this strike was fundamentally different.
Did he use all his strength? No. Did he pour in all his internal energy? That wasn't it either.
This single strike, swung as instinct dictated, contained his very soul.
There was no other way to describe it.
His muscles trembled from the explosive blow, but he wasn't out of strength. He had poured out an immense amount of internal energy in an instant, yet his dantian was still fine.
And yet, he was exhausted. Not his body, but his spirit.
It was because he had literally put his all into that one strike.
‘Did it work?’
A successful strike meant Lee Cheonsang's death. And Lee Cheonsang's death would cause a massive upheaval in the Divine Cult of the Heavenly Demon.
But even that thought didn't cross his mind. He was only curious about one thing: whether or not his sword had cut Lee Cheonsang.
Swoosh.
Even before the hazy dust obscuring his vision cleared, Seo Ryang's senses detected Lee Cheonsang's presence.
A presence unchanged from before. A powerful existence without a hint of wavering.
Seo Ryang's eyes flashed.
‘Failure!’
FWASH!
He didn't know how he had retreated to dodge. He didn't need to know.
Right now, only the attack mattered.
VWOOOM!
With a menacing sound, Seo Ryang's sword once again struck down toward the crown of Lee Cheonsang's head.
The dust scattered, revealing Lee Cheonsang's face within.
His expression remained as indifferent as ever.
Flash!
In an instant, Seo Ryang's sword drew a smooth arc.
This too was not a conscious movement.
Like a bolt of lightning that flashed and fell, twisting erratically before striking, his sword became a streak of lightning, slashing diagonally at Lee Cheonsang.
His body had realized that this was Lee Cheonsang's one and only weakness.
SWIIISH!
The cloud of dust was sliced apart diagonally.
But Lee Cheonsang was not cut. He simply looked at Seo Ryang, in the same posture, with the same expression.
However, his gaze had changed subtly.
That gaze signified his surprise at Seo Ryang.
FWOOOSH!
Gripping the sword with both hands, Seo Ryang charged again.
To charge again from a distance too short even for an exchange of blows was tantamount to ramming him with his body.
It was such a dynamic rush that even a third-party observer would have flinched.
Seo Ryang swung his sword upward.
Like a bolt of lightning striking the ground and shooting back up, the ascending blade looked as if it would cleave Lee Cheonsang in two at any moment.
VWOOOOOM!!
But this time, too, Lee Cheonsang was unharmed.
The first strike, the second that aimed for an opening, and the third in quick succession—all of them had missed.
Each strike was as fast as lightning and held power exceeding it, yet they hadn't so much as touched the hem of Lee Cheonsang's clothes.
Shhh.
Seo Ryang’s left hand moved.
A swift yet smooth motion, preparing to use the Heaven-Lifting Technique.
It was then.
Flinch!
A sensation that made his hair stand on end.
‘No!’
Fwoosh! Fwoosh! Fwoosh!
He retreated with lightning speed, as fast as his hand had moved to form a blade.
He moved back so quickly that his pants were torn to shreds in several places.
But retreating didn't mean he was safe. His eyes, fixed on Lee Cheonsang, still shone with intense purpose.
“*Gasp! Gasp!*”
The air in his lungs was not enough. The muscles all over his body were flushed red, and his heart was pounding like mad.
And before this Seo Ryang, Lee Cheonsang still stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
Watching Seo Ryang silently, Lee Cheonsang casually waved a hand.
WHOOOSH!
With a heavy sound, all the dust lingering in the air was blown away.
“Impressive.”
It was a comment whose meaning was hard to grasp.
“I said I would give you a lesson, not that you should try to cut me down.”
For a moment, Seo Ryang blinked.
“*Gasp, gasp!* Yes?”
“…”
“…Ah?”
A flicker of interest appeared in Lee Cheonsang's eyes.
‘An interesting one.’
When the first strike came, he hadn't shown it, but he had been quite surprised.
It wasn't because the attack began the moment he finished speaking. Of course, that action itself was refreshing, but the key point was that Seo Ryang had accurately read his initial opening.
He hadn't even seen it to realize it.
‘It was almost bestial.’
Even an absolute being has openings. However, those openings are also not openings.
For an absolute being who has already reached the pinnacle, the concepts of perfection and openings no longer have meaning.
But the fact that his opponent read it was surprising enough.
‘An insight beyond his skill? A sense?’
No. It wasn't some paltry ability like that.
The way Seo Ryang drew his sword and struck the moment he realized the opening was the manifestation of a much more fundamental instinct.
“…You leap toward the concept of death like a moth to a flame.”
“Sir?”
“I have a question.”
Seo Ryang straightened his posture.
The great Lee Cheonsang had a question. He was certainly seeing many surprising things today.
“You had no intention of stopping at three strikes. You were preparing a hand technique.”
*It’s even more amazing that he read that in an instant.*
“Why did you stop?”
“Ah, that…”
A look of bewilderment crossed Seo Ryang's face.
In truth, he didn't know the reason himself. He had simply felt that he shouldn't do it.
“I’m not sure myself?”
Lee Cheonsang's eyes deepened.
He, too, didn't know why Seo Ryang had stopped. But he knew what he himself had been about to do.
‘If one focuses to the absolute limit, can one become that sensitive?’
It was only three strikes, but Lee Cheonsang, too, was feeling excited for the first time in a while.
So he wanted to see it. How Seo Ryang would react to the palm strike he was about to unleash.
The moment he harbored that thought and prepared to execute the technique, Seo Ryang had retreated.
‘He didn't stop because he knew. So, is this also instinct?’
The corner of Lee Cheonsang's mouth twitched.
“You’re a marvel, you are.”
“…Ah, yes.”
“Prepare for the next one.”
“Sir?”
“I said I would teach you a lesson. You still don't even know what you possess. Therefore, I have yet to give you a proper lesson.”
“...!”
Lee Cheonsang extended his hand again.
One hand remained clasped behind his back, while the other reached forward. In that relaxed posture, one could feel infinite freedom.
“This time, come at me for real.”
Grip!
Thick veins popped on Seo Ryang's hand as he gripped his sword.
The lesson was not yet over.