Chapter 26
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Eldest Brother's Resolve
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‘For now, things are proceeding smoothly according to plan.’
He had gathered every single one of his junior brothers from the shared third-generation lineage in the grand training grounds under his command.
Gwang-il felt a fresh wave of emotion as all those bright, sparkling eyes focused on him.
‘Can I truly change history this time?’
Even though he had been helplessly ensnared by that damnable bald monk's schemes—someone he wouldn't have minded beating to death.
‘...Damn it all, it's not half bad.’
Now that he had them all assembled in one place, his heart swelled with uncommon joy.
Even after regressing to the past, this was the first time he had faced all his junior brothers together like this.
‘I failed to save you in my previous life... but this time will be different. I swear it!’
The final moments of his junior brothers still haunted him whenever he closed his eyes.
Along with the ear-piercing screams and enraged shouts echoing in his ears.
And the heart-wrenching agony, like his very heart was being torn apart alive, as those two fused into one.
It was a nightmare of a memory he never wanted to relive.
So, to avoid repeating that brutal, horrific history in this life...
‘Everything hinges on what I do from here on out.’
Most of his junior brothers' aptitudes were relatively lacking compared to the riffraff of other prestigious sects?
The majority were still kids who hadn't shed their childish ways and acted without a shred of maturity?
‘...So what?’
What did any of that matter?
Such things wouldn't even qualify as excuses.
‘I am Gwang-il, founder of the Evil Path Alliance, who unified Jiangnam and clashed head-on with every righteous faction under heaven. The Dark Heaven Emperor.’
He was the one who had gathered and forged into one even the scattered, sand-like evil spirits of the unorthodox paths, who would bite and fight among themselves at the slightest opportunity.
Compared to the grueling march of hardships he had endured back then...
‘Taming and raising these cocky little rookies is nothing.’
Whisper whisper.
Murmur murmur.
“Hey. Why's the Eldest Brother just standing there?”
“How should I know? Maybe he's sleeping on his feet or something.”
“What? Sleeping standing up?”
Heh heh heh heh!
Kee hee hee hee!
Rumble rumble!
“......”
Yet most of them had passed the age of fifteen.
Some could even mimic young men with their deepening voices, yet here they were, giggling over such immature nonsense!
‘...Goddamn it.’
Suddenly, Gwang-il felt a pang of doubt.
Did he really have what it took to properly raise these hopeless junior brothers?
‘No, that's not it.’
He had no doubt he could make each of them pull their weight somehow.
The question was whether he—the one who had once ruled south of the Yangtze with overwhelming terror—could lead them without killing any in the process.
‘It'll work out somehow. No, it has to.’
He would mold them so that not a single one died or went mad, pushing them to surpass their innate limits.
That was...
‘The path to saving them all.’
“Hey!”
“Uh-heh-heh-heh-heh!”
Crack!
They couldn't even endure this brief silence, bursting into shrill yells and cheap laughter.
Thick veins bulged across Gwang-il's forehead in layers.
“Shut your mouths!”
“H-Huh?!”
“Eek!”
Unable to hold back any longer, he bellowed.
His goblin-fire eyes blazed toward the junior brothers gasping in shock.
“I'm going to count to three. Grab your Narrow Tip Swords and assemble back here within that time.”
“?”
“S-Suddenly?”
Objections flew out as if they'd been waiting.
But Gwang-il's response was utterly flat.
“One.”
“......”
“Two.”
“W-We’re going! We are!”
“E-Eldest Brother?! T-Together! Let’s go together!”
Gwang-jo, Gwang-jung, and Gwang-seok—who shared a room with him and had already felt his earth-shaking change firsthand—were already sprinting ahead without a word.
The others, noticing late, scrambled after them in a frantic dash.
“Three.”
It was practically unavoidable for them.
The Eldest Brother's eyes, counting steadily without a hint of hesitation, didn't look human at all.
“Sect Leader Brother. Gwang-il should be doing fine, right?”
“You're worried about that? Don't be. Ever since connecting with the founder's legacy, he's clearly achieved remarkable growth not just in martial arts, but in mental fortitude and enlightenment.”
The Sealed Cave had become a focal point again after Gwang-il's fateful encounter.
There, far from the main Point Cang Sword Sect grounds, the Sect Leader Gwan-hae had assembled every first-generation elder master without exception, along with second-generation disciples like Tong-cheon.
This was largely due to Gwang-il's extremely insistent recommendation: since they were already half-secluded with the gates shut, why not go all in?
“That unworthy disciple of ours, once merely a second-rater, has thankfully gained the founder's opportunity, hasn't he?”
“Who knows? Perhaps other ancestors who once entered this Sealed Cave left their final insights behind.”
“Let us all enter together. In the long run, it might hasten the day we fling open the sect gates again.”
“Don't worry about the outside. The Yun Merchant Leader and Beggars' Sect have promised to inform us immediately of any trouble.”
“If anything happens, this disciple will rush straight here from the Sealed Cave. So please, Sect Leader, cherish this moment of enlightenment even a little more.”
His words flowed smoothly like a mountain stream, without a single hitch.
These seemingly plausible arguments were merely preparatory work to roll his junior brothers without interference.
Of course, the first-generation members of Point Cang who heard them were all deeply impressed by Gwang-il's wisdom, without exception.
“Well... recalling the Sun-Piercing Sword he demonstrated, it's more than believable.”
“A child who has mastered four out of eight forms to great completion, regardless of age. Even in the current era, only perhaps the top fifteen masters could neutralize him in an instant.”
“Even if they turned hostile toward our sect, Gwang-il would have plenty of time to rush here and warn us.”
“Exactly! So let's enter seclusion without worry. It'll ease our anxieties about the outside world that much sooner.”
“Yes, Sect Leader Brother.”
After some back-and-forth with Great Elder Gwan-ho...
Gwan-hae took in the two hundred-plus faces who had chosen their caves and gathered once more, then conveyed his firm intent in a small but clear voice.
“Some of you may have gained insights from Gwang-il's demonstration, while others have not.”
“Yet I have led you all here because, as the Sect Leader stepping into a new history for our sect, I intend for each to fully continue their roles.”
“We must uphold the founder's legacy who led our early sect, not only familiarizing everyone with the Narrow Tip Sword but striving for achievements beyond what came before.”
“That will become our sect's sturdy lifeline against any sudden invasion by foreign powers. Understood?”
““Yes, Sect Leader.””
The unified response held no hesitation.
Of course, a few like Gwan-jong couldn't hide their dissatisfaction with this forced mass seclusion to the end.
But they shrank under the sharp glares around them, mouths firmly shut.
After scanning every last one of these pitiable yet essential members...
“I wish you all the best.”
With Gwan-hae's subdued final farewell, every first- and second-generation member of Point Cang Sword Sect entered seclusion on the same day—an unprecedented event in the sect's history.
And at that very moment...
“You brat!”
“Eeeek?!”
“Wh-What now! Why, Eldest Brother! What did I dooo!”
In the grand training grounds of Point Cang Sword Sect, now empty of adults, wails and desperate cries erupted without cease.
“Huuuuh......”
The first day of that brutally intense group training had finally drawn to a close.
Ruuuumble!
Pooow!
Ah, no!
“......”
Late into the night.
Having slipped outside to escape the noise of his exhausted junior brothers lost to sleep, Gwang-il finally found time for personal training just before the hour of the rat.
“Damn brats.”
Considering it was their first day wielding the Narrow Tip Sword, he had only ordered the most basic mid-level thrust—ten thousand times.
Yet they had collapsed from exhaustion over that.
“From martial prowess to mental fortitude and basic stamina—nothing about them isn't a mess.”
Haaaah!
A sigh deep enough to cave the earth escaped him involuntarily.
It wasn't just because their average skill lagged far behind even for their age.
Rather, it was lament for the harsh fate awaiting them: facing the Beast Palace's ferocious warriors at that level.
‘I can't protect them all myself.’
If he could, he'd love to single-handedly slaughter every last one of those barbaric Beast Palace scum.
But knowing full well that was impossible from experience, he was forcing this arduous path.
‘The Grand Senior Uncles and Senior Uncles will handle their own shares.’
Unlike his immature juniors, the elders held skills that wouldn't pale against peers from other prestigious sects.
Plus, hadn't he demonstrated four Sun-Piercing Sword forms at extreme proficiency?
‘They'll surely achieve something remarkable.’
For now, he just needed to hold firm to that conviction.
His current role was solely to properly guide the third-generation disciples, elevating every one to peak or near-peak realm.
‘The road looks awfully long, though.’
Back in his unorthodox days, he had no experience teaching like this.
He'd simply crushed promising talents with force and pulled them under his wing.
Anyone bold enough to approach him had already proven their worth just by that.
Filter out the subhuman scum and execute them—that was easy if undemanding.
“......I keep missing the unorthodox life.”
Take the Sichuan Tang Clan's antics right now.
Or the righteous sects' dirty deeds in his previous life.
On a night like this, he couldn't help questioning if there was truly any need to divide orthodox from unorthodox.
“Pointless thoughts. I'm Point Cang's Eldest Disciple, after all.”
Chuckle.
Recalling his current situation snapped him back to reality.
What filled his mind next was solely a burning desire for training.
“Separate from making them all stronger, I must fully reclaim my past prowess.”
Because if he couldn't block the Beast Palace Lord—that mad monster—no amount of struggle from the others would matter.
“Acquiring spirit pills or elixirs right now is a pipe dream, so I'll start with what I can do externally.”
Of course, he had no intention of stubbornly grinding basic training alone.
With his Harmony Realm enlightenment intact, he couldn't afford such leisure with time pressing.
“Once the juniors settle into a rhythm, I'll look into Ghost Hand's whereabouts.”
The most urgent was Shadow Gate Leader Myeong-wol, but she wasn't leader yet, and her location was unknown.
For now, he'd seek another who had been his reliable limb in the past.
Actual reunion would come later, of course.
“Until then, I'll reach the absolute best position possible.”
Whether his own martial arts, his juniors', or defenses across Yun Province led by proxies.
No matter what it was.
“Hoo.”
In that chilling resolve, his sharp gaze pierced as he gripped the Point Cang Sword.
A razor-sharp sword intent spread around Gwang-il, forcing even the cool night air to yield and retreat.