Chapter 230
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 230
Chapter Title: Dark Struggle (5)
The old man was a wealthy merchant who had amassed a fortune through herbal medicine.
About sixty percent of all medicinal herbs traded in Gwangju passed through his hands.
Naturally, everyone in Gwangju knew of him.
Songcheon Pharmacy.
The foremost herbal medicine shop in Gwangju.
However, ask who the owner of Songcheon Pharmacy is, and no one could answer readily.
No one had ever seen the owner.
For a place like Songcheon Pharmacy, catching a glimpse of the owner's face was as difficult as plucking stars from the sky. Meeting him required navigating at least ten layers of intermediaries.
Thus, it was only natural that no one knew him.
Even unseen, the owner existed. As long as Songcheon Pharmacy operated, he was out there somewhere, guiding it today and tomorrow.
The tycoon who led Songcheon Pharmacy... that was the old man.
His other identity was the seventh of the Ten Great Instructors under the Serene Moon Elder, known as the Seventh Master.
In truth, he did not run Songcheon Pharmacy himself.
Though granted the title of owner, the pharmacy was actually managed by the Treasury, a group assembled by the Serene Moon Elder of those savvy in profits.
The old man simply enjoyed the boundless wealth and glory provided by Songcheon Pharmacy as its nominal owner—a perk bestowed upon the Seventh Master among the Ten Great Instructors.
With such riches granted to him, it was safe to assume the other Ten Great Instructors enjoyed similar benefits. In short, ascending to their ranks meant casting aside all worries about money.
Now, the old man had to pay the price for the benefits he had enjoyed thus far.
Crack! Whip!
The old man lashed the ground with his six-section whip.
"Have you heard of the Resonant Death-After Whip?"
Four Thousand Four shook his head side to side.
"This is the Resonant Death-After Whip. It's a whip technique, but it doubles as a sword, so it's also called the Resonant Death-After Sword."
Whoosh!
Four Thousand Four narrowed his eyes slightly.
He could read the old man's whip technique.
From the initiating stance that triggered the attack, to the path of the whip, its variations, speed, striking point, and even the retracting motion after impact—it all unfolded clearly before him.
He could read the whip technique unleashed by the Resonant Death-After Whip.
Not because he knew the technique beforehand. He was hearing the name for the first time. Judging by the old man's confident question, it seemed to be a fairly renowned style. Yet he had never encountered it. This was his first time hearing it from the old man.
Still, the technique was laid bare.
He could even see the path for Shadowless to pierce through.
Instinctively, intuitively... he felt exactly how to deploy Shadowless.
This fight was won.
It held no interest.
He had already anticipated victory over the old man. In fact, before the fight even began, he had assassinated him—in his mind's eye. And that mental assassination had succeeded.
Shadowless had slain the old man perfectly.
Had he moved to strike, had he attempted murder, the old man would already be lying on the ground.
The old man was one move inferior.
He had been curious about the old man's martial arts. What techniques did one of the Ten Great Instructors, the Seventh Master, wield?
That curiosity was now sated.
The old man wielded whip techniques... strong, but not transcendent. He could threaten Vanguard or Hanbi, but not Whispering Death or himself.
Now, only murder remained!
Whoosh!
Four Thousand Four raised his sword.
"What are you to the Serene Moon Elder?"
"What am I... a speck of dust? Even that might be too generous."
"As I thought."
"Killing me won't change a thing."
Four Thousand Four shook his head side to side.
"Many things will change. The Ten Great Instructors will crumble, the Four Heavenly Kings will fall, and the Serene Moon Elder will die."
"Hahaha! Haha! Do you truly believe that?"
"......"
"Then you're gravely mistaken. You... have no idea how vast the name 'Serene Moon' truly is."
"Is that so?"
"Hahaha! This fight... you'll lose it, I wager. All you can take are lives like ours. Perhaps four or five? Then the counterattack begins... and poof! You'll scatter like dust."
"......"
Four Thousand Four fell silent.
The old man's confidence stemmed from sincerity.
He spoke from the heart. In other words, he absolutely believed in the Serene Moon Elder's power.
"You have only one chance to unleash your whip technique. Believe me. Just a single move. The very last technique you'll ever execute in this world. Which one will you choose?"
The old man furrowed his brow slightly.
"The last technique, the final single move."
As he spoke, the old man stared piercingly at Four Thousand Four.
"What sword move do you plan to use?"
"Shadowless."
Four Thousand Four answered instantly, as if no thought was needed.
"Shadowless! Shadowless... what an honor."
"I'll weave in Killing Resolve. Since I've resolved to strike, I'll guide you to the swiftest death."
"Hm! Then only my choice remains?"
"......"
"You wanted to see my martial arts... but now it's unnecessary?"
"I've already seen them."
"I haven't even shown a single opening stance."
"I've already seen them."
"......"
The old man widened his eyes.
Indeed. Upon reflection, he had already used the six-section whip. A casual swing at the ground... though not a formal technique, every bit of his whip mastery, inner energy, and proficiency was embedded in that offhand motion.
One didn't need a full technique display to gauge a warrior's prowess. The way they gripped their weapon, breathed, or walked was enough.
Four Thousand Four was an expert who could discern such things.
"Hm! You've left me speechless. Very well, I believe you. My choice is simple now. One Sword Direct Thrust. That's the move I'll use—the last one in this world."
Four Thousand Four nodded as if he understood.
"However... I have something I want to see as well. To that end... we'll clash within sword range. One Sword Direct Thrust."
"Agreed."
Four Thousand Four answered without hesitation once more.
A sword range is the arm's length plus the sword's reach.
Yet it wasn't purely mathematical. Everyone had their own sword range, which could be longer or shorter than the calculated one.
It was the optimal distance for confidently slaying an opponent with one's weapon.
He was yielding sword range to the Seventh Master.
The Seventh Master's sword range was not Four Thousand Four's.
For masters like Four Thousand Four or the Ten Great Instructors, conceding sword range could have significant implications.
The old man took two normal steps forward.
Adding arm length to the six-section whip's made it a bit short. But considering the whip's segmented flexibility, it might be just right.
At this distance... techniques were useless.
If only one move could be used to kill, the old man's One Sword Direct Thrust would be ideal, boiling down to who was faster.
The faster one slays the other.
Mutual destruction was possible too. At the perfect range for staking one's life, where if you didn't die instantly from the enemy's strike, surviving one last breath ended it in both falling.
"I almost feel sorry. You sure?"
"I'm fine."
"No thoughts of arrogance?"
"This is what I'll use."
Four Thousand Four held up his three-chi longsword.
The tip pointed at the old man's toes.
"Good. Let's do it."
"Go ahead."
The two faced each other.
They ignored weapons, eyes locked solely on each other's gaze.
Snap!
The old man moved.
His eyes remained unchanged, serene without a flicker of agitation. But his hand was in motion. In that instant,
"Kuh!"
A very brief groan escaped the old man's lips.
It wasn't loud. So faint it was barely audible, softer than a breeze brushing clothes.
Thud! Boom!
The old man toppled like a tree uprooted.
Four Thousand Four's sword was embedded in his heart. How or when it struck... more astonishingly, the faint groan had come after he was already dead.
The old man never used his six-section whip.
As his fingers twitched to wield it, Four Thousand Four's sword had already severed the heart's connecting vessels.
Had Four Thousand Four cheated? Drawn first?
Even if he had struck first, it wasn't foul play—and it didn't seem necessary.
Shadowless was complete.
Four Thousand Four had sought the Ten Great Instructor's arts, but what he confirmed was his own.
"Fast."
Four Thousand Four, having slain the old man, uttered those words.
What was fast? The old man? Or himself?
With that, Four Thousand Four departed.
"Owner!"
The chief steward cried out through gritted teeth.
Among Songcheon Pharmacy's people, fewer than ten fingers' worth surpassed the middle realm. The chief steward was one, often conversing with the Seventh Master morning and evening beyond that level.
The chief steward handled all transactions at Songcheon Pharmacy. From the Serene Moon Elder's Treasury, he was keenly attuned to profits.
His超越 to converse with the old man was mere routine greetings; discussions of deals never arose. Talks ended at reviewing the owner's schedule and disbursing needed funds.
Today, though, no conversation would happen.
"Hm!"
The chief steward didn't touch the owner's body.
The owner ending up like this meant the surrounding protectors and even the moles had all met mishap.
Corpses littered unseen spots.
"One solid hit. Using Isolated Assassination like this... I expected a preemptive strike, but this hurts deep. Bones aching and throbbing."
He glared at the Seventh Master's twisted face.
Their bond was deep. Like elsewhere, a relationship of non-interference and mutual respect inevitably drew them close—especially after nearly a lifetime together.
The Seventh Master's death was unbelievable.
Yet this was reality. He had fallen to an ambush.
He wanted to rush over, embrace him.
Examine the cause, revive him with any herb if breath remained.
But no. He couldn't. The Seventh Master's death was certain. Even immortals couldn't revive him. Rigor mortis was already setting in.
"Rest... in peace."
From afar, he bowed respectfully to the Seventh Master. Then, backing away slowly, he exited the courtyard, leaving the body behind.
"Shall I report it?"
As the chief steward emerged, the procurement chief, who oversaw herb purchases, asked as if waiting.
"Immediately... we must."
"What about the owner...? We should bring him inside..."
"Don't touch the body."
"Pardon?"
"Seal off the courtyard entirely. No searches... preserve the scene perfectly until the Ten Great Instructors arrive to investigate themselves. Remember—no one steps foot inside."
"Understood."
The procurement chief replied gravely.