Chapter 79
Chapter 79
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: Fist Demon and the Ink Sword
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Sss.
Two shadows flickered into view atop the collapsed roof, and in the next moment, an old man and a middle-aged man with features like polished jade stood before Bu Eun-seol.
“L-Lord Rang-ju!”
Recognizing the two, Ok Ho-bang cried out in shock and bowed his head.
The middle-aged man, dressed in a blue robe, had the air of an immortal. He was Do Myeong, the Rang-ju of Dong-pyo-seo-rang, who had left for closed-door training four years ago.
“Have you been well, Jeon-ju Ok?”
“How did you suddenly get here…”
“It wasn’t sudden.”
The old man standing beside Do Myeong shook his head.
He was Yang Sa, an old servant who had faithfully served Do Myeong for over twenty years.
“The Rang-ju had already returned to Dong-pyo-seo-rang at the start of the Martial Arts Tournament.”
“Since the start of the tournament, you say?”
As Ok Ho-bang’s mouth fell open, Yang Sa let out a sigh.
“From the beginning, the Rang-ju only wished for you to manage Dong-pyo-seo-rang well. He never wanted it to become a power in the martial world by borrowing the might of the likes of the Hell Blood Fortress.”
“Th-that is…”
As Ok Ho-bang, his dark ambitions exposed, broke out in a cold sweat, Do Myeong waved his hand dismissively.
“Don’t blame the Jeon-ju. If not for him, how could I have leisurely spent four years in closed-door training?”
He smiled warmly as he looked at Ok Ho-bang.
“After I left, the Hell Blood Fortress was constantly eyeing our organization, wasn’t it? If Jeon-ju Ok hadn’t been here, Dong-pyo-seo-rang would have fallen apart. It would have scattered, and the remaining ronin would have been absorbed by the Hell Blood Fortress.”
“L-Lord Rang-ju…”
Ok Ho-bang shed tears of regret.
Do Myeong was a powerful and outstanding martial artist, but he had no ambition to expand Dong-pyo-seo-rang.
Ok Ho-bang, who had always been dissatisfied with this, had planned to use the power of the Hell Blood Fortress over the past four years to expand their influence and push Do Myeong out.
“Rang-ju, the truth is, until now I…”
“I know. It’s alright.”
Do Myeong patted Ok Ho-bang’s shoulder.
“You only did what you could. You’ve worked so hard while I was away.”
At Do Myeong’s warm words, Ok Ho-bang once again shed hot tears.
“Rang-ju! Rang-juuu!”
Ok Ho-bang clung to Do Myeong’s arm, crying tears of remorse.
At the sight, Yang Sa, Heuk-pyo, and even Hwa-ran and Hyeol-chu were moved to tears.
But one person, Bu Eun-seol, stood there with a bored expression.
“So…”
Bu Eun-seol finally spoke in a low voice.
“Where is my sword?”
***
The Yeong-sa-sin-geom was indeed in the great armory.
Ok Ho-bang pointed to a large box at the entrance of the armory, where old swords, still in their scabbards, were piled up.
“The Yeong-sa-sin-geom is in here.”
At Ok Ho-bang’s words, Bu Eun-seol peered into the box.
“Hmm.”
With a glint in his eyes, Bu Eun-seol lifted the box with one hand.
Click.
A mechanism activated, revealing another compartment beneath the large box.
Surprisingly, this space was also filled with a pile of old swords, just like the box above it.
Rustle.
Bu Eun-seol immediately reached in and picked up the oldest, most rusted sword among them.
It had no decorations, and it was so rusted that the surface of the scabbard looked as if it were covered in bumpy stones.
“A fine sword.”
Shing.
As he drew the sword in one motion, rust flaked off, revealing a blade with a dark, black luster.
This was the divine sword, Yeong-sa, said to be able to slice even the soul of an opponent.
“Did you know about the Yeong-sa-sin-geom?”
Ok Ho-bang looked surprised that Bu Eun-seol found it at once.
“I did not.”
Bu Eun-seol, having used his internal energy to remove all the rust from the surface, smiled calmly.
“This one simply called out to me.”
With the rust wiped away, the Yeong-sa-sin-geom, scabbard and all, now had a dark, blackish luster.
It looked like a demonic sword, but it was actually a divine sword of exorcism that could drive away evil energy and even slay evil spirits.
“From now on, I will call you Muk-geom.”
Vmmm.
At Bu Eun-seol’s words, a low hum came from the blade of the Yeong-sa-sin-geom, no, the Muk-geom.
“Originally, this sword was prepared for the Rang-ju's return.”
The Yeong-sa-sin-geom was a divine sword that Ok Ho-bang had spent a year deploying ronin to acquire.
But once he developed other ambitions, it became a gift to be offered to the lord of the Hell Blood Fortress.
“But it seems it was destined for another master after all.”
Ok Ho-bang said, looking at Bu Eun-seol’s profile.
“I have no right to ask this, but… I have a favor to ask.”
“Speak.”
“Sa-ha. Please take good care of that child.”
Ok Sa-ha.
That was Heuk-pyo’s real name.
“He is merely a ronin contracted out of necessity. You need not concern yourself.”
At the cold reply, Ok Ho-bang swallowed hard and shut his mouth.
“I-I apologize.”
Then Bu Eun-seol added a short phrase.
“But I will never let him die.”
*‘Never let him die…’*
Mulling over those words, Ok Ho-bang secretly smiled faintly.
He had finally grasped Bu Eun-seol’s true character.
*‘Now I understand. This man’s personality.’*
He appeared to be a cold-blooded and ruthless person, but he did not harm those who had entered his fold.
And if someone tried to harm them, he would protect them with his life.
“Thank you.”
Ok Ho-bang gave a deep bow.
Then, as if remembering something, his eyes widened.
“Do you plan to leave immediately?”
When Bu Eun-seol nodded, Ok Ho-bang spoke.
“The Rang-ju has requested a private meeting with Young Master Bu.”
“The Rang-ju, you say?”
“That is correct.”
When Bu Eun-seol made an annoyed face, Ok Ho-bang gave a faint smile.
“You will certainly not regret meeting him.”
Wonlim-gak.
It was originally a place that provided food and lodging for homeless ronin.
But now, it had been converted into the residence of Do Myeong, the Rang-ju of Dong-pyo-seo-rang.
“Excuse me.”
As Bu Eun-seol opened the door to the office, Do Myeong, who was writing a letter at a table, stopped and smiled.
“Welcome.”
Rising from his seat, he gestured to the table opposite him.
“Have a seat. Let’s have a cup of tea first.”
The tea Do Myeong brought out was not Ilwol-cha or Longjing, but a wild tea made from hand-picked wild leaves.
Bu Eun-seol stared blankly at the tea served in a simple bowl before taking a sip.
“How is it? The taste of the wild tea I picked and brewed myself?”
Bu Eun-seol gave a bitter smile.
Every supreme master he had met so far enjoyed tea.
Not only that, but they always served it to others and then asked how it tasted.
“I don’t know much about tea… but it has a simple yet firm taste.”
“A simple yet firm taste, you say.”
For a moment, Do Myeong wore a smile that was both somewhat regretful and satisfied.
“I have long been pondering how to describe this taste… and you have given me a clear answer.”
“Is that so.”
“Mmm. It’s as they say, meeting a master can make ten years of study feel like nothing. Haha.”
After a hollow laugh, a thread-like glint flashed in Do Myeong’s eyes.
“I heard you are a disciple of Nang-ya-gak.”
“I am.”
“Strange. Our organization also has a considerable intelligence network… but we could find no evidence of you being a disciple of Nang-ya-gak.”
Do Myeong stared intently at Bu Eun-seol.
And looking at his endlessly clear and cool eyes, like the azure sky, he spoke.
“Could it be that the Pung-un-dae-ju is blocking the information?”
Do Myeong chuckled and muttered to himself.
“Having gained such an outstanding disciple… he must be protecting you with all his might.”
There was no hint of hostility in Do Myeong’s eyes.
Instead, as he spoke, his eyes deepened as if reminiscing about the past.
“Do you know much about the Pavilion?”
“Huhu.”
Do Myeong let out a laugh that was hard to tell if it was one of derision or admiration.
“Not as much as you.”
It was a reply that left a strange, lingering feeling.
But Bu Eun-seol, as if he had no interest, asked in a low voice.
“What is your business?”
“My business…”
At Bu Eun-seol’s words, Do Myeong rose from his seat and walked to the window.
“If I had to say, I suppose you could call it tying up a loose end…”
As Do Myeong gazed out the window, his eyes were filled with deep regret and anguish.
“I heard that you are a Sip-ma-jeon-in, the legitimate successor who will one day lead Nang-ya-gak. Is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
When Bu Eun-seol nodded, Do Myeong slowly turned around.
An immense aura, unlike anything seen from him before, poured from his body.
“I, too, was a disciple of Nang-ya-gak. In the past.”
Bu Eun-seol blinked for a moment.
—In the past, he was a disciple of Nang-ya-gak.
This statement was a contradiction.
Once a disciple of Nang-ya-gak, always a disciple of Nang-ya-gak. If one could speak of being a disciple in the past tense, it would only be those who died during their training.
“I don’t understand what you mean at all. If you were a disciple of Nang-ya-gak, shouldn’t you still be one now?”
At Bu Eun-seol’s words, Do Myeong gave a bitter smile.
“I am one who should have died in Nang-ya-gak. But I survived, and am now living in sin.”
“I despise riddles. If you have something to say, say it directly.”
“Very well.”
Do Myeong took out an old booklet from his robes and held it out to Bu Eun-seol.
“This is my request.”
Taking a deep breath, he spoke again.
“Memorize this secret manual and destroy it. If you do, it will be as if I have properly returned this martial art to Nang-ya-gak.”
As Bu Eun-seol accepted the manual, he saw the characters for Gwon-ma written on the cover.
“Gwon-ma?”
Just as the title Geom-ma, or Sword Demon, had been passed down through generations in the martial world, so too had the title Gwon-ma, or Fist Demon.
However, Nang-ya-gak, which emphasized practical martial arts, did not hold fist techniques in high regard.
This was because using a sword or a saber to face an enemy was far more practical and powerful than using one’s fists and palms.
“Is the martial art written in this manual truly from our Pavilion?”
“Of course. It is the greatest fist art of Nang-ya-gak.”
Bu Eun-seol made a curious expression.
“I was not aware that our Pavilion had secret manuals.”
“Secret manuals certainly exist in Nang-ya-gak. It is just that it is very rare for martial arts to be passed down through them.”
“In that case… did you also learn from this manual, Rang-ju?”
Originally, Bu Eun-seol was going to ask, ‘In what cases are martial arts learned from a manual?’
But seeing that Do Myeong’s eyes were filled with anguish, he changed the question. He knew he wouldn’t get an answer anyway.
“Due to my lack of talent, I was unable to properly master this fist art. Nevertheless, out of my own greed, I failed to return this manual to Nang-ya-gak.”
Do Myeong spoke with desolate eyes.
“Because I was a disciple who died, no, who *should* have died.”
It seemed Do Myeong had a deep, unspoken story.
But Bu Eun-seol did not ask.
Every person in the martial world has their own story. And they live with those stories buried quietly in their hearts.
“So I just need to read the manual and burn it immediately?”
“That is correct.”
Do Myeong said something inscrutable.
“This manual is incomplete. No matter how profound the techniques and martial principles it contains, the very best part is missing.”
Bu Eun-seol had no particular intention of learning fist techniques. Therefore, he nodded without much thought.
“I understand.”
“You’ll accept?”
When Bu Eun-seol nodded, Do Myeong gave a bright smile.
“Thank you.”
What was he thankful for?
But Do Myeong’s smile was that of a man who had finally cast off a heavy burden he had carried for a long time.
“In return, I also have a request.”
“Speak.”
Bu Eun-seol whispered softly.
Hearing his words, Do Myeong narrowed his eyes and nodded.
“I understand what you mean. As soon as the information reaches all intelligence networks, I will have them inform Heuk-pyo, that child.”