Chapter 165
Chapter 165
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 165
Chapter Title: The Essence of the Death Technique (5)
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Sakcheon-sa read the Death Technique.
The words were already firmly etched into his mind, flowing out effortlessly even as he murmured them absentmindedly. He read them once more.
It was starkly different.
He knew the Death Technique so well that the differences jumped out at him immediately.
The core structure was the same. The progression and the martial arts matched perfectly. But the ideals diverged. Noksa's Death Technique leaned heavily toward killing methods, while the old man's incorporated a touch of mercy.
As a result, the two Death Techniques had become entirely distinct.
Sakcheon-sa read the Death Technique again and again.
He reviewed the old man's once, then Noksa's once. Then back to the old man's, and to Noksa's again. He repeated this countless times.
If the two Death Techniques were completely different... then one of them had to be flawed.
Sakcheon-sa sought out the errors.
Yet the more he read, the more he reviewed, the more perfect both Death Techniques became.
Neither was wrong.
He couldn't find a single flaw in the old man's Death Technique. The same went for Noksa's. They were flawless.
How could this be?
In the extreme... the injunction not to kill a person was right. It was proper. The command to kill was also right. Proper. The two statements addressed different situations, yet no contradiction emerged.
Here lay a dying man.
According to the old man's Death Technique, he should be watched. No hands should intervene. According to Noksa's, he should be killed. Guided to death. Allowed to slip into peaceful eternal rest.
Completely different actions. Utterly divergent outcomes. Yet both directives were correct. One to kill, one to observe—and both right.
'Ah!'
Sakcheon-sa let out a sigh.
Which one was right?
What drove him even madder was that the two Death Techniques had no precedence over each other.
He couldn't tell if Noksa's had come first or the old man's. One could argue the old man's arose from disgust with Noksa's. Or vice versa, that Noksa's was born from the blandness of the old man's. Or perhaps both had existed from the start.
This subtle divergence appeared in the martial arts as well.
Identical techniques, yet different results. Noksa's Death Technique demanded certain death, while the old man's stopped at subjugation. In a word, it was non-lethal.
The difference grew even clearer in offense and defense.
Noksa's Shadowless Wall focused on attack. The old man's emphasized defense.
The same Shadowless Wall, but weighted toward offense or defense, revealed entirely different flavors.
The scent of burning incense permeated the air faintly.
No one came to visit the old man. Sakcheon-sa alone offered the incense.
Ten days... ten full days slipped by.
Creak!
The door opened, and two men entered.
"You're safe. I heard, but still."
Vanguard approached with a broad grin.
In that time, Vanguard had grown even more composed, and Hanbi much softer.
It seemed both had received minor gifts from the old man. Martial prowess wasn't gained overnight... Likely, they'd melted down the White Frost Demonic Clothes fused into their bodies. Otherwise, their internal energy must have at least doubled from before.
"You look good."
Sakcheon-sa smiled back.
"Pot calling the kettle black. You look the best. You've hidden your edge so well it's startling. Exaggerate a bit, put you in a scholar's robe with a brush, and I'd believe you were one."
"Is that so?"
"Think I'd say it if it weren't true?"
"Sit. I was just brewing tea."
Sakcheon-sa offered tea.
He knew the promised ten days had passed.
At dawn, servants had quietly entered and cleared the old man's spirit tablet. They took the incense too.
Thus ended the final rites for the man no one visited.
That's how Sakcheon-sa learned ten days had gone by. Before that, he'd been utterly absorbed in the Death Technique, not caring how many days passed.
"Anyone come by in the meantime?"
Sakcheon-sa asked as he poured tea.
"No one. Eerily quiet."
Vanguard shook his head.
"Made me doubt this was the Heavenly Annihilation Division. I figured someone would show."
Hanbi said, lifting his teacup.
"Do you even know exactly where this is?"
Vanguard asked Sakcheon-sa.
Vanguard, grizzled veteran of the Heavenly Annihilation Division's Martial Camp, was asking Sakcheon-sa, who was visiting for the first time.
Sakcheon-sa shook his head.
His mind brimmed with maps and diagrams, but he couldn't pinpoint the location. His memory had snapped midway.
Sakcheon-sa had no freedom.
No, nothing restrained him. He'd simply been too engrossed in reading the Death Technique to move.
If he'd wanted to know where he was, he could have looked around and matched it to the diagrams.
"So now... what do we do?"
Vanguard shrugged.
"Heh! Wrong phrasing. 'What to do' is for when there's nothing on the plate. Doesn't suit folks swamped with work."
"Us?"
"Soon enough. For now, savor this one cup of tea."
Sakcheon-sa said calmly.
Strange. Truly strange.
After reading the old man's Death Technique, his mind felt at peace. And the world came into view.
People appeared.
He sensed Vanguard's thoughts, his next moves. Hanbi's mind too.
The world was silent. Not a breath of wind.
The world roared. Utterly clamorous.
He felt it all. Through his entire body, unbidden, piercingly vivid.
Shiiik! Papapapak!
"Kuhk!"
"Guk!"
Movement erupted. Cries followed.
"Tch! Ambush?"
Vanguard hastily set down his teacup.
Sakcheon-sa continued savoring his tea. He sipped slowly, letting the liquid roll over his tongue, tasting every note.
"Mm!"
Vanguard, who had leaped up, sank back down.
Outside, the assault raged on. No back-and-forth clashes. Pure one-sided slaughter. Yet... it dragged on quite long.
A considerable number died.
"They're wiping out the seed entirely."
Hanbi said, frowning.
The attackers were ruthless. Their forms swift and sharp. The screamers, sluggish.
He could guess who was dying.
Servants, maids... those who lived with the old man, vanishing all at once.
"Is the Heavenly Annihilation Division always like this?"
Sakcheon-sa eyed Vanguard.
"No idea."
Vanguard gave a wry smile.
The Heavenly Annihilation Division had ten with voting rights. Each upheld a pillar of the organization. Indispensable absolutes.
Who knew what happened when one fell.
The old man had been one. That's why they brought Sakcheon-sa without Heavenly Commander intervening. Even knowing he'd eliminated the Separate Garden Master.
Now the old man rested eternally. His mourning period ended.
They were purging the remnants cleanly.
Purging? Then were they the Lesser Retributors?
The screams lasted half a shichen.
Quite long for peak experts clashing with near-martial-less folk.
Another half shichen passed.
Even after screams ceased, they patrolled, rooting out survivors. Any still breathing met instant death.
Perfect extermination.
For a full shichen, no one set foot in Sakcheon-sa's hall.
Not servants. Not killers.
Proof none among them fled death. If afraid, they'd have run to Sakcheon-sa.
Creak!
At last, the hall door opened.
A long shadow stretched in. The setting sun elongated the entrant.
"We meet again."
Penalty Lord entered, grinning fiercely.
Indeed, he'd been the one to sever the old man's limbs. The Lesser Retributor.
One, two, three, four, five... seven lined up behind him.
Familiar faces among them. Chahu!
A woman too. Likely Crimson Shrine Maiden Hwasi. Penalty Lord's sole female disciple among eight.
She was surprisingly slender.
Emaciated frame, tiny face... a strong man could lift her one-handed.
Hwasi had once betrayed Lesser Retributor Penalty Lord. Yet she remained.
Chahu's eyes sharpened further.
His face had been plump before; now gaunt, bones stark. But his gaze, deeper, grave.
"When I heard you were coming to the Heavenly Annihilation Division, I thought thunder couldn't follow you fast enough. And here you are."
"Tea?"
Sakcheon-sa gestured to the tray.
Penalty Lord waved it off.
"No. Any reason to share tea with you? Blood debt's all that's left between us. But not today. Today... heh! Heh heh!"
Penalty Lord laughed bitterly, scanning the hall.
"Respected this man, never dreamed it'd end like this. Me finishing it."
He wandered, touching candelabras, bookshelves, pillars.
"Pay respects!"
Penalty Lord ordered his disciples at the door.
They bowed in unison, clasped fists.
Not to Sakcheon-sa. To the masterless hall. To the old man's bodiless spirit.
"Enough!"
Penalty Lord turned and strode out, sparing Sakcheon-sa not a glance.
Chahu glanced at Sakcheon-sa but said nothing, following.
Purging was Lesser Retributor work... but not to drag all disciples. Too much even for any one. The old man trained no warriors.
Still, Penalty Lord brought them all for courtesy to the old man.
"This hall's master... any guess...?"
Hanbi whispered to Vanguard.
Vanguard shook his head, face saying he'd have spoken if he knew.
Then Sakcheon-sa spoke.
"Heavenly Commander."
"Wh-what!"
Vanguard shot up, startled.
Hanbi stared rigidly outside.
No Heavenly Commander visible. Just Penalty Lord and disciples receding.
Yet Sakcheon-sa said it.
"Figured someone would come on errands. Didn't expect Heavenly Commander himself."
"Th-that was really Heavenly Commander...?"
Vanguard unwittingly used honorifics.
Heavenly Commander was the god of executioners. Their father. Absolute arbiter over lives—not just theirs, but all bound by division rites.
Sakcheon-sa lifted the pot, pouring fresh tea.
Drip drip!
Clear jade-green liquid filled the cup.