Chapter 259
Chapter 259
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 259
Chapter Title: The Secret Armory
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Cheonhwi glanced around restlessly.
Under the soft glow of the night-luminescent pearls illuminating the interior, splendid treasures proudly displayed their magnificent forms.
Swords, spears, sabers, bows—the eighteen classes of weapons were all there, along with iron armor and flowing battle robes.
All sorts of items filled the space.
‘Hmm, shall I check that one first?’
Cheonhwi strode without hesitation toward the item that had caught his eye.
After a few steps, he arrived and fixed his gaze on a spear mounted on one side of the wall.
‘Sharp, huh.’
Perhaps from years of neglect.
Dust lightly coated the spear shaft, but the spearhead was another story.
It gleamed with a freshly honed edge, and the pure white feathers below it brimmed with an inexplicable spiritual energy.
‘Feels familiar, like I’ve seen it before.’
Staring at the oddly recognizable spear, Cheonhwi reached out to grasp it. The instant his hand closed around the shaft.
Zzzzt—
A sharp tingle shot through his fingertips.
‘Thunder qi...? Ah!’
Feeling the biting thunder qi course through his hand, Cheonhwi grinned and drew the spear free.
‘It’s the Thunderclap Divine Spear. Man, it’s been a while.’
A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
He recalled the man from his previous life who had charged at him wielding this very Thunderclap Divine Spear.
Thunderclap Sect Leader, the Spear King.
The brash fellow hailed as one of the Central Plains’ top ten masters, wielding bold and unrestrained spear arts.
He had real guts.
Cheonhwi remembered him thrusting his spear even as a blade plunged into his heart.
His spear techniques had been quite flashy.
As he reminisced about the Spear King’s spear arts from his past life, Cheonhwi tilted his head.
Hm? But why is this here?
It puzzled him.
He had certainly slain the Spear King back then, but handed the Thunderclap Divine Spear to his disciple.
Come back for revenge later, he had told him.
Yet here was that spear, mounted in this place. How could he not wonder?
“Did the Thunderclap Sect get wiped out or something?”
He muttered softly.
“You’ve got a sharp eye.”
The old man, Yuk Mugwang, approached.
He let out a hearty laugh.
“That spear is called the Thunderclap Divine Spear, the divine treasure of the Thunderclap Sect—once hailed as the pinnacle of spears. As you see, it’s a divine weapon infused with thunder qi.”
“Is that so?”
Cheonhwi knew full well but played ignorant.
No sense stirring up trouble by showing off his knowledge.
Then his eyes suddenly gleamed.
“Why is the Thunderclap Sect’s treasure here?”
Yuk Mugwang gave a wry smile at the question.
“The last Thunderclap Sect Leader went to the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult for revenge against his master... and only this came back.”
Cheonhwi pieced it together in an instant and clicked his tongue.
The Thunderclap Sect was a one-man lineage.
“Last Sect Leader” meant he died without taking even a single disciple.
‘Tsk, must’ve come after I left the cult. But it’s odd. Would the Divine Cult return a loser’s weapon?’
As Cheonhwi lapsed into thought.
“Will you take this one?”
Yuk Mugwang asked quietly.
“No.”
Cheonhwi promptly rehung the spear and swept his gaze over the nearby weapons.
“I’ll look everything over before deciding.”
“Haha, that’ll take time.”
Yuk Mugwang chuckled and patted Cheonhwi’s back.
“If you want stories about any of them, just ask. I don’t know it all, but the basics. And some I know inside out.”
As Yuk Mugwang turned to go.
“What’s this?”
Cheonhwi asked right away.
He held a pair of gauntlets.
They had been right below the Thunderclap Divine Spear.
Clearly caught off guard, Yuk Mugwang turned back in an awkward stance.
“The Life-Seizing Gauntlets.”
“Is this why they’re so infamous?”
With those words, Cheonhwi rapped the gauntlets lightly.
In that instant.
Pababat!
Sharp needles sprang out.
About ten cun long, they were sharp enough to punch straight through to the back if they struck the chest.
“Fits an assassin.”
“It belonged to the Blood Kill Ghost King, once called the world’s greatest assassin. Word is he coated the tips with poison.”
“Poison, huh.”
Cheonhwi murmured, tracing a needle tip.
For a brief moment.
Suk—
He shoved the needle back into the gauntlet with force, then set it down like he’d lost interest.
Yuk Mugwang stared in surprise.
‘...Not your average guy.’
His face stayed impassive, but inside, waves of shock and admiration crashed through him.
What was the Thunderclap Divine Spear?
A divine spear brimming with thunder qi—few could even grip it right.
That alone astonished him. And now, the raw power to force back the Life-Seizing Gauntlets’ needles.
‘No wonder the Military Strategist brought him here himself.’
As Yuk Mugwang’s wrinkled eyes deepened.
“Hm?”
Cheonhwi frowned.
An all-too-familiar aura leaked from right beside him.
‘Daring to spew demonic qi at me?’
Cheonhwi turned toward the source.
There lay a saber, tossed down without even a scabbard.
The blade was a wreck.
No maintenance ever—the edge was nicked, dust everywhere.
‘Neglected it because it’s a demonic weapon?’
As Cheonhwi reached for the saber.
“Best not touch that saber.”
Yuk Mugwang had crept up and warned him.
His face was grave.
Small wonder. That saber belonged to the Great Demonic Devil, Shura Demon Venerable—the monster the current Murim Alliance Leader and Nine Great Sects’ heads had banded together to slay.
Its demonic qi was so dense, even transcendent experts couldn’t grasp it.
Hence the warning.
But.
Grab—
The young Daoist ignored him and seized the saber.
‘If his mind starts slipping, I’ll knock him out...’
As Yuk Mugwang quietly gathered his qi.
“Acting so impudently.”
A chill voice cut in.
The demonic saber—usually berserk—lay perfectly still in the young Daoist’s hand.
‘How...’
Yuk Mugwang’s eyes flickered faintly.
‘Did he subdue the demonic saber?’
As he gaped at Cheonhwi.
‘Hold on. This is the Shura Demon Venerable’s Shura Saber.’
Cheonhwi was floored.
The Shura Demon Venerable had opposed his rise to Cult Leader in his previous life.
Once he claimed the seat, the man fled to the Central Plains—or so he recalled.
And here was his Shura Saber.
Only one implication.
‘Taken down in the Central Plains.’
Cheonhwi sighed inwardly.
‘Sigh, could’ve stayed low in the Divine Cult. No need to head to the Central Plains and die.’
He shook his head.
He’d never craved the Cult Leader throne anyway.
It was thrust upon him.
‘A position I didn’t care about—he could’ve stepped down quietly.’
Not mere speculation.
He had seized the entire Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, then abdicated and departed.
Cheonhwi set down the Shura Saber and scanned the room.
Seeing it must’ve cleared his sight.
‘Split into maintained and neglected piles.’
Now it was obvious: some pristine, others abandoned.
And among the abandoned, several looked familiar to him.
‘Not just the Shura Demon Venerable.’
Cheonhwi shook his head.
Weapons from those who’d fled to the Central Plains to escape him dotted the shelves.
‘Idiots. If you were gonna die anyway, better by my hand. At least you’d die with honor. Tsk tsk.’
With a brief tongue-click, Cheonhwi snatched up a weapon before him.
And admired the newcomer.
‘Hm? The Demon Dragon Staff? Even here in the Murim Alliance? Oh ho, and the Heavenly Form Strange Whip? Look at you Murim Alliance fools, hoarding away.’
Cheonhwi’s eyes sparkled as he browsed. Righteous, unorthodox, demonic—everything imaginable.
‘Sky-Flipping Ghost Demon’s Heavenly Seizing Soul Bell...? If the Ghost Demon Sect knew it was here, all hell would break loose.’
As Cheonhwi roamed excitedly, fondling freely, one man marveled.
‘Hah. Incredible.’
Yuk Mugwang shook his head.
Every item was extraordinary—some pulsed with ghostly or demonic qi.
Some too vicious for even transcendent masters to handle casually.
Yet the young Daoist toyed with them like toys.
‘Things that bowed to no one, tucking tails like mice before a cat.’
Amid his ongoing awe.
Examining a round treasure orb, Cheonhwi approached Yuk Mugwang.
“Know what this is?”
Yuk Mugwang eyed the mysteriously glowing sphere in Cheonhwi’s hand.
“The Seven-Colored Treasure Origin Divine Pearl. Said to hold spiritual essence, though I can’t confirm.”
“Spiritual essence...”
At the reply, Cheonhwi eyed the pearl, set it down, and lifted a gem-studded bracelet beside it.
“This?”
“Evil-Breaking Pearl. Wards off evil qi, or so they say.”
Cheonhwi set it aside and queried more items.
“What’s this? And this...”
“That cord’s the Ruyi Cord. The bracelet...”
Question and answer flew back and forth awhile.
“Hm?”
Cheonhwi spotted a long shape buried among ornaments.
A dust-caked scabbard.
‘Huh? This is...’
Like drawn by a spell, Cheonhwi gripped the scabbard.
Plop plop—
Dust rained down.
“Fhew.”
A puff of breath cleared it, revealing the scabbard’s true hue.
An antique reddish-brown sheath, too fine for dust’s embrace.
Yuk Mugwang drew near.
“That one’s tricky to wield.”
He murmured low, as if he knew its nature.
Cheonhwi glanced at him.
“You know what it is?”
Yuk Mugwang shook his head.
“Not precisely. Just that it’s in bad shape.”
‘You don’t know this?’
Cheonhwi’s brow twitched.
Incomprehensible that he wouldn’t recognize this sword.
No, even its presence here defied logic.
Cheonhwi drew it.
Kikik—
An ugly scrape echoed.
The emerging blade was wretched at a glance.
Rust-eaten, uniformly ochre.
“As expected, unchanged.”
Yuk Mugwang eyed the blade.
It had been rusted when he took charge.
Cheonhwi grinned at the sight.
“Oh ho, intact.”
Echoing Yuk Mugwang exactly, his face lit with satisfaction.
“Intact...?”
Yuk Mugwang puzzled at Cheonhwi’s knowing demeanor.
“Gotta clean the grime.”
Cheonhwi surged his internal energy.
“...!”
Yuk Mugwang’s brows shot up as he watched.
‘Such depths of power?!’
His beard quivered.
All visitors here were masters.
Some world-class.
None this young.
As shock gripped him at the youth’s profound energy.
‘Fate, if it is.’
Cheonhwi’s lip curled.
A smile was inevitable.
Rust-caked and ruined as it seemed, the sword’s hidden essence was achingly familiar.
‘To find that Malko Daoist bastard’s sword here.’
Plum Blossom Divine Sword, Sangun.
Mount Hua Sect Leader from three centuries past—this was his blade.
‘Not rusted, no.’
Cheonhwi’s gaze steadied.
The moment he poured his fully amassed Plum Blossom Divine Art energy into it.
Crackle—
Ochre rust split wide. Crimson light seeped through, then.
Flash!
Bursting red radiance flooded the Murim armory.
“Gasp!”
Yuk Mugwang’s eyes bulged.
‘S-such sword aura?’
Flustered.
The ochre iron shell flaked away, unveiling a luminous, exquisite blade.
‘Was it always like this?’
As he gawked.
“Felt like a famed sword even then, but yeah—top quality.”
Cheonhwi swung it, pleased.
Whoosh—
A gentle breeze wafted soothingly.
‘This’ll do nicely.’
He eyed the blade intently.
Its subtle crimson glow was captivating.
“Best pick something tied to Mount Hua anyway.”
Muttering, Cheonhwi grabbed the scabbard again.
Then unleashed his energy.
Bang!
Dust blasted off the sheath. Sheathing smoothly, Cheonhwi declared crisply.
“This one.”