Chapter 37
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Before the Sun-Piercing Sword
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The Sun-Piercing Sword could truly be called the entirety and origin sustaining Point Cang.
From times past, among Point Cang's third-generation disciples, those resolved to bury their bones in the main sect had, without exception, made ascending to second-generation disciples to learn and refine it the sole goal of their lives.
The current Gwang-jo, Gwang-jung, and Gwang-seok were no different.
Thus, the question Gwang-il had posed struck them like a massive shock.
'For killing people...'
'...do you need a sword that pierces the sun...?'
'......Is a sword like that necessary?'
A proposition they had never once considered in more than half their lives as Point Cang disciples.
They had simply assumed that when time passed, years accumulated, and they earned the qualifications, they would receive the transmission and diligently refine it.
But.
"Do any of you wish to master the Sun-Piercing Sword and pierce the sun in the heavens?"
"...!"
This abrupt question in a completely unforeseen situation shook the very foundation of their thinking.
"I'm asking the fundamental reason you want to practice the sword right now. Why do you seek to learn and cultivate the Sun-Piercing Sword?"
"......"
There could be no other reason.
For Point Cang disciples, mastering the Sun-Piercing Sword was both an obvious duty and a right.
Where would they have had time to ponder reasons for it?
But before transmitting One Flash Death—and before facing the brutal wars of the coming chaotic era—
Gwang-il wanted his junior brothers to train with a clearer sense of purpose than before.
Only then could they endure the harsh years ahead and survive tenaciously.
"Of course, pursuing sublime swordsmanship as one's guiding principle is undoubtedly what every true swordsman should aspire to."
"However, when climbing a mountain, if you only stare at the distant lofty peak without watching your own feet, what do you think would happen?"
"Your ultimate goal may be to reach the summit. Yet that doesn't mean you should ignore the immediate realities right before your eyes."
Soft words of advice murmured into the night air.
After they had quietly pondered it for a time,
Gwang-jo murmured softly, his face full of utter incomprehension.
"I understand everything Senior Brother said. But I fail to see what that has to do with our current reality, where we haven't even received a single thrusting martial art."
"That figures. Thrusting practice is supposed to begin only upon ascending to second-generation, alongside the Sun-Piercing Sword transmission."
"......?"
Gwang-il nodded naturally in immediate agreement, but Gwang-jo—the one who had asked—only grew more perplexed.
He couldn't even guess what his senior brother meant when speaking of things they hadn't learned and thus couldn't perform.
Gwang-il glanced at his puzzled junior brothers for a moment.
'Now these guys are ready enough.'
Just as with Gwang-geon not long ago, Gwang-il had reaffirmed his resolve to root One Flash Death in the sect across time and space. With a short exhale, he finally voiced the core of his thoughts.
"What if there exists a thrusting sword that forms the foundation before entering Sun-Piercing—or one that stands equal to it on its own?"
"Pardon?"
"Eldest Senior Brother?"
"What do you...?"
There were no separate sub-martial arts preparing one for Sun-Piercing initiation.
Let alone a thrusting sword comparable to it?
It was only natural to be dumbfounded by this bizarre remark out of nowhere.
But Gwang-il paid no heed to his juniors' bewilderment and calmly finished his prepared words.
"Drawing from the sect founder's insights, plus all the realizations gained from cultivating Sun-Piercing, I've created my own unique sword art."
"?!"
"!!!"
"And I dare claim it is in no way inferior to Sun-Piercing."
"E-Eldest Senior Brother!"
"What in the...!"
Reaching the peak realm in his thirties and achieving great success in four of Sun-Piercing Sword's eight forms was astonishing enough.
Now he claimed to have devised swordsmanship equal to it.
For those who had come expecting some ploy to discipline the irritating Gwang-geon, it was a head-spinning shock.
"To rise to second-generation, we need at least another decade. Do you plan to spend those endless years—enough for mountains and rivers to change—just grinding basic drills?"
"...!"
Thanks to Gwang-il's great enlightenment and the founder's solemn decree he conveyed, slash-focused training had been fully excluded from Point Cang.
Thus, as he said, they would be doomed to endlessly drill upper, middle, and lower one-point thrusts without learning any true thrusting art.
Even cultivating other thrusting branches derived from Sun-Piercing without mastering it proper wouldn't yield real results.
For Sun-Piercing's branches—all supreme swift thrusting swords—pursued parallel goals from an equal standpoint, not as inferiors.
This was why third-generation disciples had never received thrusting training at all.
It was only natural for Point Cang to teach headquarters' ultimate arts after deciding if they stayed or went to outer branches.
"Under the sect's new policy, you can't receive any other martial arts for the next dozen years."
"......"
"You have no choices from the start."
Exactly so.
A problem they hadn't even considered amid relentless drilling day and night.
But first, one point needed clearing.
"That's just following the elders' directive. Not the issue here. The real problem is that ridiculous nonsense you spouted earlier, Senior Brother."
"S-Senior Brother!"
"A-Ah! Second Senior Brother!"
Gwang-jo's icy retort cut sharp with a hardened face.
Gwang-jung and Gwang-seok beside him floundered, stamping their feet in distress.
Gwang-il, the target, merely smirked leisurely.
"Heh. Is that right?"
"Yes. You're barely in your thirties, yet at peak realm. An incredible feat for Point Cang's history, no doubt. But inventing a martial art unknown to the world? Entirely separate matters."
"Hmm."
"Especially if it's equal to our sect's supreme art, Sun-Piercing. What more need be said?"
As Gwang-jo concluded in a chill tone, ice-cold expression firm, Gwang-il burst into genuine delight.
"Good. That's the proper response."
Unlike simpleton Gwang-geon—who leaped at a sword rivaling Sun-Piercing—
Upright Gwang-jo couldn't be the same.
And this integrity was why Gwang-il trusted him deeply, past life or present...
'Thus, the solution is simple and clear.'
Just prove it before their eyes.
That the Dark Heaven Emperor's One Flash Death—which terrified the world—was no less than Point Cang's Sun-Piercing.
Of course, these green juniors lacked the insight to judge...
'Still, instinct will let them grasp something.'
That alone sufficed now.
Far better than wasting a dozen years on basics.
"See for yourself. That should do it, no?"
Just as he prepared to demonstrate One Flash Death.
"!"
Whoosh!
Gwang-il whipped his head around as if snapping his neck, eyes bulging wide.
Immense murderous intent billowed from him in thick clouds.
"E-Eldest Senior Brother!"
"Senior Brother?"
"What's wrong all of a sudden...!"
This sudden fierce, oppressive aura startled even steadfast Gwang-jo, alongside Gwang-seok and Gwang-jung.
But Gwang-il had no time to explain patiently.
Because...
"...How dare you!"
He'd faintly sensed it at perception's edge.
Dozens of dense, sinister presences surging up from below Point Cang Peak.
And the distinctive foul stench, clear even from afar, revealed their identity.
'Sichuan Tang Clan! You mongrel dogs dare come here...!'
Unbelievably, the midnight assailants were Sichuan Tang Clan.
By the stench's density, at least Venom Dragon Squad elites advancing en masse.
Setting aside rage and disbelief, Gwang-il prioritized immediate action.
"We're under attack."
"What?!"
"?!"
"W-What?!"
After the terrifying intent, this bombshell out of nowhere.
Gwang-il's eyes gleamed resolute, voice cold.
"No time for details. Return to quarters now and prepare for battle with the others."
"S-Senior Brother...!"
"Hurry!"
"...!"
Amid towering fury, a hint of impatience and worry slipped through.
Gwang-jo bit his lip, turned, and raced back the way they'd come.
"Wh-What?!"
"Second Senior Brother! A-Ah! What the hell is this...!"
Flummoxed Gwang-jung and Gwang-seok followed hastily under Gwang-il's fierce glare.
Left alone.
"......I underestimated you curs."
To think they'd brazenly invade Point Cang Mountain!
But reconsidering, it wasn't wholly incomprehensible.
Several months had passed since officially sealing the gates and cutting external ties.
'Sect Leader didn't announce the collective seclusion... but they might suspect trouble at headquarters.'
Plus, delayed sightings near proxy Iron Defense confirmed Venom Dragon Captain lived.
'Anxiety broke them.'
Their Beast Palace liaison might crack under torture.
This explained their uncharacteristic silence until now.
Sichuan Tang Clan teetered on public expulsion and annihilation.
'Not solely for the Captain.'
This reckless move suggested records of Beast Palace talks survived.
They likely assumed Point Cang held those too, with the Captain.
'Damn it all!'
Then Point Cang abruptly sealed silent for months.
Those scoundrels couldn't endure worry and haste.
"But crawling into our sect?"
No excuse justified this outrage.
"Fine. Actually perfect."
He'd agonized over the tight-lipped Venom Dragon Captain.
Couldn't kill or release the pest, just wasting rice.
Now they delivered themselves.
"Sweeping these vermin clean... I'm curious their next move already."
Tatak!
Mid-thoughts, Gwang-il neared quarters swiftly.
Not for other reasons.
"You bastards!"
Puk!
Thud flop!
Some scaling the wall charged straight at the juniors.
"E-Eldest Senior Brother!"
"Eldest Senior Brother!"
Crowded before quarters, tense faces plain.
Swords gripped tight, but trembling betrayed unreadiness for combat.
"Senior Brother...!"
At their fore.
Unlike others, resolute, eyes aflame—Gwang-jo's stubborn gaze drew a smirk from Gwang-il.
This cursed mess might perfectly convince the blockhead.
"Gwang-jo, watch closely with your own eyes."
"Senior Brother, what is...!"
"Ignore those trash. Watch my sword from now on."
"?!"
"And separately, protect the green juniors behind you properly."
Step step.
Familiar stares pierced his back sharply.
Ahead, thirty masked foes in flawless encirclement.
No poison aura, identities veiled outwardly.
"But that vile stench unique to you... you can't hide it no matter what."
Facing them confirmed it again.
These damn night intruders hailed from Sichuan's poison heart.