Chapter 21
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Point Cang Regression
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Leaving behind the Division Leader sunk in profound shock and confusion,
Gwang-il hurried back with nimble steps.
'Did I venture too far out?'
He had long anticipated the Division Leader's extreme reaction.
To preempt any potential mishaps, he had chosen a distant peak far from the Point Cang Sword Sect as the rendezvous point.
Thanks to that, he had avoided the fallout from the incessant shouting of that doddering old fool...
'What a hassle. Next time, it'll be better to have them come straight to the main sect each month and set up a private meeting spot.'
In truth, Gwang-il couldn't care less that the old coot had zero intention of returning to the Point Cang Sword Sect on his own.
Unbeknownst to the man himself, Gwang-il had already scheduled monthly visits.
With that settled, Gwang-il successfully scaled the sect's outer wall without delay.
'At my age, why am I hopping the wall instead of using the damn gate...'
Of course, he couldn't quite suppress the faint pang of self-reproach or the quiet sigh that followed.
As he let out that brief exhale to shake off his irritation,
"Huh?"
Pretending he'd just come from the outhouse, he rounded the corner of the hall at a leisurely pace—only for unexpected figures to loom squarely in his path.
'Why the hell is that guy here all of a sudden...?'
None other than the Yun Merchant Leader and his one and only heir grandson.
"Ahem! I've been far too neglectful these past months, Sect Leader. With all my focus on feeding the family and weathering the rough tides of the world..."
"Haha! Nonsense. How could I blame you, when we're holed up here swinging swords in idle mountains?"
"Only because you and the senior brothers hold the fort so steadfastly can a wretch like me pretend to be a proper merchant guild leader out there."
"What? Ahaha! You sly fox!"
Hahaha!
There was the Sect Leader, beaming with laughter alongside the elders and first-generation disciples trailing behind, as the Yun Merchant Leader kept the good cheer flowing.
At the thoroughly distasteful sight, Gwang-il's head tilted instinctively at a sharp angle.
'What scheme is that snake of an old man cooking up now...?'
He bared his teeth briefly at the sight of the Yun Merchant Leader brazenly clasping hands with the Point Cang Sect Leader himself.
'...I'll see soon enough anyway.'
Suppressing his unease, Gwang-il quietly slipped away from the scene.
The Yun Merchant Leader was already mentally shackled by his sorcery, too entangled with the Sichuan Tang Clan to even dream of rebellion.
On top of that, wasn't he indirectly tied to the Beast Palace as well?
All while bearing the unforgivable sin of trying to steal the sect's tea fields and farmlands.
'He'd have to be insane to betray me.'
It wouldn't end with just his wretched old hide on the line.
His precious grandson, whom he cherished like gold, and the entire Yun Merchants legacy his ancestors had built—everything would shatter to pieces.
For these reasons, Gwang-il sent a single, low warning via transmission:
[Set up a private meeting. Make your own excuse.]
"...Ahem! Might I continue our talk inside?"
"Ha! Of course. Come in. Bring your junior brothers too."
A true veteran merchant, seasoned by decades in the trade.
Or perhaps it was the extraordinary nerve of someone who'd dared scheme with the Sichuan Tang Clan right in the Point Cang courtyard?
Even with no proper martial prowess to his name, his face didn't twitch at the sudden transmission.
'Pathetic, calling himself brothers with the Sect Leader and seniors in that state.'
Come to think of it, it was downright bizarre.
The head of the Yun Merchants, who boasted as the Point Cang's top secular ally, couldn't even claim a single complete martial technique—let alone wield a sword.
'There must be a reason.'
Probably some hidden circumstances from his forebears.
Gwang-il decided not to dwell on it.
Right now, far more pressing matters piled up than the personal history of that cunning merchant.
For instance...
"Senior Brother? What're you doing here?"
"...Hoo."
Turning these worthless junior brothers into something resembling proper humans.
"Huh? Eldest Senior Brother?"
"Senior Brother. What brings you here?"
Gwang-jung and Gwang-jo appeared one after the other, as if on cue with Gwang-seok.
At the sight of his familiar juniors, whom he saw day and night, Gwang-il casually shook his head.
"Nothing much. What about you lot? What's got you here?"
"Us? Came to check out the Narrow Tip Swords."
"Narrow Tip Swords? What the— Oh!"
Gwang-il recalled what he'd briefly forgotten, thanks to Gwang-seok's wide-eyed response.
'Right, I told the Yun Merchants to bring a thousand of them.'
More precisely, he'd strong-armed them into a "voluntary" donation.
'They made a thousand Narrow Tip Swords already? And hauled them all the way to Point Cang Mountain?'
Either way, it was astonishing.
His demand had been made just a few weeks ago.
For the Yun Merchants, top dogs of the Yun-Nam trade, producing and transporting that volume wasn't a small feat.
Of course, the truth was the merciless pressure from the man once called the Dark Heaven Emperor—his razor-sharp threats laced with urgency had left no room for mercy.
Not to mention how the Iron Sword Gang's forges and every smithy within a hundred li had pulled all-nighters, working nonstop.
Plus, the Yun Merchants had thrown in generous bonuses to keep them motivated.
'The Yun Merchants live up to their name. Definitely useful.'
Gwang-il, utterly indifferent to their woes, simply noted he'd acquired a handy tool.
"But Eldest Senior Brother, you planning to keep wearing that divine relic all the time?"
"Hm? Divine relic?"
"Y'know, that thing on your belt. The Founding Ancestor's heirloom from greater Point Cang. The Point Cang Sword."
"Ah."
The abrupt, unexpected question caught him off guard.
As he pondered how to respond,
Gwang-il shrugged nonchalantly.
"The Sect Leader hasn't said otherwise, so I'll keep holding onto it for now."
"Holding onto it? Don't you usually stash stuff away in some corner instead of actually using it?"
"......"
"No, but seriously—is this okay? Even if you inherited the Founding Ancestor's legacy directly, how can a third-generation disciple just casually wield the sect's sacred treasure..."
"G-Gwang-seok! Enough, enough!"
"You and your big mouth again! Senior Brother knows what he's doing!"
Gwang-jung and Gwang-jo shot anxious glares at Gwang-seok's blunt words, then hurriedly clamped his mouth shut.
"Ahahaha! E-Eldest Senior Brother! You know how Gwang-seok is!"
"It's for you seniors and the sect elders to handle. Please overlook this fool's nonsense, Senior Brother!"
"Pfft! What, like I said something wrong? Playing the victim again— Mmph!"
"Shut it, Gwang-seok!"
"Gwang-jung! This punk's forgotten what a beating feels like. Drag him off quick."
"Yes, Second Brother!"
Was it because Gwang-il's silent, piercing gaze seemed so grave?
Thinking they'd irked their eldest senior brother with idle talk, Gwang-jo and Gwang-jung thrashed and hauled away the struggling Gwang-seok.
Judging by their hurried steps, they figured he was seriously pissed.
"......Is that so."
But contrary to his juniors' fears, Gwang-il wasn't offended by the remark.
Merely...
'Maybe I've grown too accustomed to carrying it.'
He glanced down at the sword hanging naturally at his waist—his beloved blade from past and present lives.
'Gwang-seok's not wrong.'
This sword, which he'd dubbed the Point Cang Sword on a whim, was unmistakably the Founding Ancestor's sole surviving divine weapon for posterity.
His other legacy, the martial arts, had entered Gwang-il's mind in his previous life while wielding this very blade. And hadn't he drained the eternal elixir Azure Spirit Oil in both lives?
In a way, he'd monopolized the sect's entire heritage in his past life—and now he was doing the same again.
'Can't do anything about the elixir I already consumed. The arts can be shared. But I should get the Sect Leader's permission for the sword.'
Of course, he'd push to keep using his cherished weapon, citing reasons.
No one in Point Cang could wield the Point Cang Sword more masterfully than him.
Moreover, against the elite warriors sure to swarm from the Beast Palace, this indestructible blade was essential.
'If need be, I'll reveal my full power to prove I'm its rightful owner.'
Recent battles had stabilized his swordplay considerably.
Especially the time and focus he'd endured to neutralize the Venom Dragon Captain in one strike—it had paid off handsomely.
This went beyond mere rank disputes.
Strictly speaking, as the direct inheritor of the Founding Ancestor's legacy, he had nothing to fear.
'No need for this messy debate. The Sect Leader will back me anyway.'
His only concern was a few stubborn elders and relic-hungry grand senior uncles.
"Hoo. As they say, pull the iron horn while it's hot."
Step by step.
With that, Gwang-il turned and headed straight for the Sect Leader's quarters without hesitation.
"That's only right."
"......"
"What obvious drivel. Haha! Look here, Yun Merchant Leader. Our Gwang-il is such a selfless, upright lad!"
"H-Haha, hahaha! Y-Yes, indeed. He truly seems so to my eyes as well, Sect Leader."
His earlier worries proved unfounded. Gwang-il entered smoothly and effortlessly secured ownership of the Point Cang Sword.
Aside from the Yun Merchant Leader stumbling over his words in shock at the Sect Leader's effusive praise—despite his poker face during the transmission—it was a perfectly smooth affair.
Ignoring the merchant's fluster entirely, Gwan-hae fixed a sharp glare on the attending juniors, as if daring them to object.
"It was prepared for you by the Founding Ancestor himself from the start. How dare anyone now invoke rank and hierarchy to snatch it away? Right, juniors?"
"Your words are most just, Sect Leader. Every item has its rightful owner. No one here would claim Gwang-il, tied by fate to the Founding Ancestor, lacks the qualifications."
"......"
The pointed question, tossed out with a subtle glance, escalated instantly into Elder Gwan-ho's veiled threat.
Anyone daring to counter would find themselves run through on the spot—the air crackled with menace...
"Ahem! Y-Yes... quite so?"
"Th-The Sect Leader speaks truly. Ahem!"
Even the elders who'd long coveted Gwang-il's blade were forced to swallow their greed with awkward coughs.
Strictly speaking, wielding the Founding Ancestor's Narrow Tip Sword now wouldn't do them much good anyway.
Better for Gwang-il to keep it—the one who'd subdued the Supreme Poison Realm expert Venom Dragon Captain without a scratch, displaying flawless skill.
Dismissing the current Gwang-il as mere third-generation chaff would be unjust.
"We're all in a position to seek his tutelage soon enough. For our own dignity, Gwang-il wielding the Point Cang Sword is fitting. It's as good as receiving guidance from the Founding Ancestor himself, through Gwang-il as proxy."
"Oho!"
"Ah...!"
"Indeed!"
Grand Elder Gwan-sung's resounding declaration put a perfect end to the debate.
Now, those ashamed to learn from a lowly third-generation disciple had a solid excuse.
'Grand Elder.'
The sect's second-strongest after the Sect Leader. In his past life, he'd fallen to the Beast Palace's vile trap in a pathetic end.
At his subtle defense, Gwang-il briefly reminisced.
Though the Sect Leader's follow-up question shattered the moment.
"Perfect timing with you here. The Narrow Tip Swords have arrived by fate. How do you plan to impart the teachings now?"
'Ah!'
A more fundamental question.
And a crucially important one.
He couldn't possibly line up the Sect Leader and first-generation elders alongside second- and third-generation juniors on the training grounds.
"For the sect's hierarchy, perhaps teach from the top down, by rank."
"Most fitting words, Sect Leader. But first, a prerequisite must be met."
"Prerequisite? What's that supposed to mean?"
Puzzled gazes flew from all sides.
Gwang-il swallowed dryly, organized his thoughts, and spoke calmly and steadily—laying out the most vital policy for the path ahead.
"The eight forms of the Sun-Piercing Sword, our sect's supreme art. The Founding Ancestor's ultimate single strike is based entirely on them."
"Hm."
"Naturally."
"The Sun-Piercing Sword is the Founding Ancestor's peerless legacy..."
Bored reactions, as if he were stating the obvious.
But his next words flipped the room upside down.
"The Founding Ancestor's ultimate supreme technique, Extinguishing Light. It requires mastery of at least two—or more—of the Sun-Piercing Sword's eight forms."
"?!"
"Wh-What?!"
The hall erupted in uncontrollable chaos.
Yet Gwang-il's steady voice pressed on without hesitation.
"Per the Founding Ancestor's words, the more forms mastered, the greater the power—worlds apart."
"Hooo!"
"No way!"
Finally unveiled: the Founding Ancestor's final teaching.
It plunged everyone into utter turmoil, without the slightest shortfall.