Chapter 215
Chapter 215
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 215
Chapter Title: Defeated General
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The Defeated General, Jeolgal Gocheon, tilted the liquor bottle.
The liquor, sparkling with captured starlight, traced beautiful curves like a waterfall.
Drip, drip—
A tickling sound reached his ears.
Moments later, the crude wooden bowl—too rough to properly call a cup—filled to the brim with liquor, capturing moonlight and the night sky within.
Jeolgal Gocheon, swallowing the world contained in the barely palm-sized cup, stared intently at Cheonhwi, who was sipping his drink right in front of him.
Was he three now?
No, he looked much younger than that.
'Even thinking about it again, it's hard to believe.'
Jeolgal Gocheon inwardly clicked his tongue.
He was trying to converse casually and drink as if nothing was amiss, but inside, he was filled with shock.
This incredibly young man had destroyed the formation he had meticulously set up.
And it wasn't just any formation.
It was the Lesser Heaven-Earth Genesis Formation.
A deadly array that defied the natural order, twisting paths so even experts at the Transcendent Martial Realm struggled to find the life gate.
Proving that point, even his old friends had only managed to locate the life gate.
But the young man before him was different.
He had literally smashed it to pieces.
'A monster.'
Shock naturally welled up within him.
Jeolgal Gocheon himself had been called a monster or genius by others.
It would be strange not to call a monster one of the Eight Martial Gods, who had surpassed what he thought was the pinnacle of martial arts, the Transcendent Martial Realm, and pioneered the Martial God Realm.
Yet even he saw Cheonhwi before him as something beyond specifications.
At a glance, he had not only reached the edge of the Transcendent Martial Realm but seemed to be knocking on the door of the Martial God Realm.
How could he not be shocked?
'At his age, even the Transcendent Martial Realm felt distant to me. Not just me—the others were the same. Just what is this kid...'
After scrutinizing Cheonhwi for a long while, he set down his cup and asked,
"Are you a Daoist of the Mount Hua Sect?"
"Yeah. I'm even wearing the Daoist robes here."
Cheonhwi lightly lifted his sleeve.
A vivid plum blossom on the red-and-white sleeve revealed itself under the moonlight.
Anyone could see it was Mount Hua Sect Daoist garb.
But Jeolgal Gocheon's expression didn't change at the sight.
"Clothes don't define a person."
His voice lowered slightly.
"What I'm asking is about your essence."
"What essence?"
"For example, even with the same sword, it depends on how you use it. Some wield it for justice, others point it for personal gain."
Cheonhwi let out a smirk.
He already knew what the man meant.
He had only asked back thinking it was no big deal, but Jeolgal Gocheon seemed to consider the answer quite important.
"You're complicating it, but basically, you're asking if I'm properly walking the Daoist path of Mount Hua, right?"
"Exactly."
Jeolgal Gocheon's narrow eyes pierced Cheonhwi's mouth like needles.
Cheonhwi fell into thought.
'Walking the path of Mount Hua...'
It was a question he had never really considered.
That made sense—his interests lay solely in martial arts and the strong.
He had never cared about anything else.
He had simply learned the sect's martial arts because he became a Mount Hua Daoist.
He had never deeply pondered ascension to immortality or such things.
Having finished his thoughts, Cheonhwi spoke.
"Doesn't feel like it."
He had no intention of walking the Daoist path.
'What I want is the end of martial arts.'
Cheonhwi's eyes grew distant as he contemplated his desires.
Countless martial arts beyond measure.
Reaching their end and attaining all things under heaven—that was his aspiration.
But at that moment.
Thud.
The air near where Jeolgal Gocheon sat grew heavy.
It wasn't released internal energy.
His unconsciously revealed emotions had completely overwhelmed the surrounding air.
'Oh ho, he even wields doubt.'
Cheonhwi's eyes narrowed.
He knew exactly what Jeolgal Gocheon had just done.
It wasn't internal energy.
It was a privilege only those who challenged the Martial God and glimpsed beyond the heavens could possess—a natural oppressive presence.
In that state, Jeolgal Gocheon's mouth slowly opened.
"Then what is your essence?"
A subtle pressure washed over him.
His whole body creaked under the weight of the intimidation.
But a smile played on Cheonhwi's lips.
This pressure and intensity.
It thrilled him.
"I'm me."
Jeolgal Gocheon's eyebrows twitched sharply.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Exactly what I said."
Cheonhwi continued with an expression asking why he was even questioning it.
"Whether I'm a Daoist or not, what does it matter? Daoist or not, I'm still me."
"...!"
Jeolgal Gocheon's body shook violently.
The air around them rippled and distorted with the intense shift in his emotions.
Profound words.
And straightforward ones.
Don't mind the background—see the person themselves.
It felt just like looking at his past self.
Cheonhwi filled his eyes.
His figure, brimming with audacity, overlapped with the image of himself standing alone against the world.
'I had times like that too.'
Closing his eyes amid hazy recollections, Jeolgal Gocheon let out a hollow laugh.
"Ha. If a character like you appeared, I'd have thought Wudang or Shaolin... or even Kunlun. The world is truly unpredictable."
Wudang and Kunlun made sense.
Didn't figures like him, called the Eight Martial Gods, hail from there?
And Shaolin was different.
No current Eight Martial Gods, but wasn't it a great sect with the saying "All the world's kung fu comes from Shaolin"?
In contrast, Mount Hua was...
'A mysterious thing.'
His gaze swept over Cheonhwi once more for a moment before he set down his cup.
"Well, enough idle chatter."
"Good thing. I was wondering when to cut the conversation."
"Is that so?"
The smile lingering on Jeolgal Gocheon's lips deepened further.
For ages, everyone before him bowed their heads and fawned.
But this young man was different.
Not only did he hold his head high, he looked at him as if on equal footing.
'Probably because he has the skill to back it up.'
His eyelids lifted slightly.
His hidden four hundred eyes revealed themselves, sucking in all the surrounding darkness.
"Now that we've seen each other's faces, is business concluded?"
"Nah, not at all."
Cheonhwi's pearly whites flashed.
"After feeling this, how could I just leave?"
"Haha, is that right?"
The moment their eyes locked simultaneously.
Crack—
The space between them split open.
A clash of murderous intents.
The air couldn't endure it, distorting wretchedly before swirling into a vortex.
Anyone witnessing it would have been shocked.
The thatched hut they occupied felt detached from the world.
'...Strong.'
Cheonhwi's lips slowly twisted.
The revealed inner power within the killing intent pressed down on his entire body, compressing it.
The overwhelming volume of internal energy far exceeded expectations, heating Cheonhwi's body.
'It's been ages since I felt this.'
He wanted to draw his sword right then.
But he couldn't move rashly now.
'Showing an opening would be dangerous.'
Even the slightest gap could cost his life.
The opponent was that strong.
Even if born in the same era as his previous life, he would have been contending for the world's top spot.
And Jeolgal Gocheon wasn't moving either.
He was utterly cautious.
The hair-trigger standoff continued for a moment.
Swish—
Jeolgal Gocheon suddenly turned his head toward the south.
"But it seems impossible now."
With those words, he withdrew his killing intent.
Astonishing speed.
As he retracted it in less than a breath, Cheonhwi, who had been facing him, did the same.
He too looked south and said,
"Tch, I thought I'd loosen up a bit after so long."
"Isn't it self-inflicted?"
"Should've been more careful."
Cheonhwi scratched his head sheepishly.
"I'll come back later."
With that, Cheonhwi vanished.
Jeolgal Gocheon glanced toward where he disappeared and murmured softly.
"That might be difficult."
No sooner had he spoken than,
"Father!"
Jeolgal Se, the head of the Jeolgal Clan, rushed up half-dressed and stood before Jeolgal Gocheon.
"A-Are you alright?"
Usually so composed, Jeolgal Se now clearly showed his panic.
"Haha, I startled you."
"...I thought my heart would stop."
Seeing Jeolgal Gocheon's peaceful state calmed Jeolgal Se, who tossed in a joke.
For father and son who hadn't met in nearly a decade, their bond seemed remarkably close.
Soon, Jeolgal Se straightened his clothes and spoke.
"Who did this?"
A faint anger flickered in his eyes.
This was a forbidden area.
A place in the Jeolgal Clan where none could enter without permission.
Yet someone had intruded.
Not just intruded—they had utterly demolished the Lesser Heaven-Earth Genesis Formation.
"I did."
"Pardon?"
At Jeolgal Gocheon's reply, Jeolgal Se's eyes widened, his mouth agape in stupefaction.
Shocking words.
After setting up the Lesser Heaven-Earth Genesis Formation, Jeolgal Gocheon had lived within it for nearly forty years.
For him to destroy it himself...
Gulp—
His Adam's apple bobbed heavily.
With excited suspicion, Jeolgal Se cautiously ventured,
"Are you returning to the martial world?"
"No, not yet."
At the firm answer, the energy drained from Jeolgal Se's body.
Then he jolted.
"Not yet means..."
Seeing Jeolgal Se unable to hide his excitement, Jeolgal Gocheon clasped his hands behind his back and lifted his head.
"Yes, not yet..."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Cheonhwi fully deployed Shadow Phantom Step at full power.
Moving stealthily, he slipped past the Jeolgal Clan warriors encircling the area and safely reached the roof of the annex.
Whoosh—
A cool breeze swept through, but his heated body didn't cool.
How could it?
After witnessing such intense pressure and power.
Recalling it only made his blood boil more.
"Defeated General, huh?"
Cheonhwi's gaze turned north.
He could see the vegetable patch and thatched hut where Jeolgal Gocheon had been.
Amid the neatly clustered grand halls of the Jeolgal Clan's inner compound, that hut and garden looked a bit out of place.
Then, light shone from there.
The small, faint glow seemed so fragile it might extinguish at any moment.
Yet Jeolgal Gocheon's presence within reached him clearly even from afar.
Before he knew it, sweat slicked his clenched fist.
Not just his hands.
His back was slightly damp too.
"This got pretty interesting."
Tension like this—how long had it been?
Even counting from his previous life, it had been decades at least.
Cheonhwi took a deep breath and exhaled.
White vapor puffed out, vanishing quickly in the blowing wind.
"Eight Martial Gods..."
His murmuring lips curled up.
Excitement surged again.
"Meaning there are seven more like him?"