Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Beginning of Winter at Ink Sword Grove in Chang'an
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Even though we'd established an inner hall and an outer hall, the number of people hadn't changed.
Thus, Ink Sword Grove remained as quiet and serene as ever.
Our only task was still martial arts training. That's what it meant to be a martial artist.
Aside from time spent eating and sleeping, our profession consisted of wielding edged weapons and moving this way and that.
Nobly speaking, we were knights-errant. Harshly put, we were thugs.
It was a line of work impossible to refute.
Truth be told, it wasn't even a proper profession. What kind of job was being a martial artist?
Anyway, it didn't matter. We were martial artists, cultivating our inner energy and tempering ourselves.
For justice and chivalry. Or for revenge. To slay some great evil that might exist out there somewhere.
No. That wasn't what made a true martial artist.
The ultimate goal of a martial artist was to reach the pinnacle of the martial way.
Most failed, and few even thought that way.
Now, who in this murim was closest to that pinnacle?
Before the Righteous-Demonic-Evil Great War, there had at least been people worth discussing.
The Three Venerables and Seven Kings.
The ten greatest masters of the murim.
Sword Venerable, Flame Venerable, Demon Venerable.
Poison King, Sword King, Dao King, Asura King, Dark King, Tyrant King, Ghost King.
But seven of them had died in that war.
Mount Hua's Sword Venerable, Shaolin Temple's Flame Venerable, the Demonic Cult's Demon Venerable, the Namgung Family's Sword King, the Hebei Peng Family's Dao King, the Demonic Cult's Asura King, and the Demonic Cult's Ghost King—all dead.
The survivors were the Tang Family's Poison King, Salmak's Dark King, and the Demonic Cult's Tyrant King.
No, Salmak's Dark King didn't exactly survive. He hadn't even participated in the war.
In other words, the only ones who had endured the Righteous-Demonic-Evil Great War were the Poison King and the Tyrant King.
I'd seen the Poison King with my own eyes, so all that remained was the Demonic Cult's Tyrant King?
I could gauge the Poison King's prowess since I'd met him in person.
So the Tyrant King was likely comparable. Probably even greater in attainment than the Poison King.
The Tang Family's achievements were bolstered by their poisons and hidden weapons, after all.
Even so, it was a bit disappointing.
I didn't for a moment think my own attainment was inferior to that Tyrant King's.
If that guy in the Demonic Cult had been anywhere near my level, they wouldn't be lying low like rats right now.
The orthodox sects, practically sealed shut as they were, would have been finished long ago.
If he were that formidable, the Central Plains would have fallen to the Demonic Cult ages ago.
Of course, there were bound to be countless hidden masters who never made the top ten list.
The war had ended twelve years ago. Who knew if some recluse had gained enlightenment in the meantime and become even greater?
That was the murim for you. That was what martial artists were.
Still, even accounting for all those possibilities, I doubted there was anyone I couldn't handle.
This wasn't arrogance or hubris.
It was simple arithmetic, based on the fundamentals.
The Manifestation Realm was just that kind of existence. I knew because I'd achieved it myself.
That's why I wasn't fixating on the old hidden masters or renowned experts.
I was considering something else entirely.
Was I the only one of my kind in this murim?
Or were there maybe around a hundred like me?
I thought that because, if it were me, that's how I'd do it.
It didn't make sense to send just one person here.
I didn't know who had sent me, but any being capable of dropping me into a place like this wouldn't send just one?
If they had, they'd have given a clear objective. At least then there'd be some amusement in watching how I carried it out.
But there was nothing. That's why I felt that way.
It was like being gladiators tossed into a coliseum called the murim.
Go on, kill each other starting now.
That would be far more entertaining. I'd even place bets on it.
But I figured the odds of that were slim.
I'd spent over sixty-seven years training in the Black Wall Cavern.
Of course, with the extra fifteen years, it had taken fifty-two to master the Obliterating Origin Divine Art as intended.
So what about the others?
If they'd given the same mission to someone else, would it really have taken longer than that?
I doubted it. I wasn't anything special.
I'd just been your average fresh-out-of-college office worker.
Nothing extraordinary, just your typical adult male. Barely that much.
If they'd sent countless people into this world to do as I had, there should have been at least a few faster than me.
Those types would have already made their mark here by now.
But there were no such stories.
At least, nothing like that had turned up in the Tang Family's intelligence reports.
So I could say with certainty that no one else was like me.
Not even the reason why I'd come to this world.
I'd keep looking into it, but I wasn't holding my breath.
I was content with my life as it was.
I had power beyond measure and three wonderful women.
A comfortable place to live, no shortage of money.
The food suited my taste, no homesickness. The toilet irritated me every time, but that was it.
So my goal right now was singular.
The nameless poison. Who the hell had used something like that? That was it.
Rebuilding the Namgung Family and the Tang Family dominating Sichuan? That wasn't my job.
It was Namgung Hwi's and the Tang Family head's.
When the time came, I'd just lend a subtle hand.
That's why Seolha, Yeonhwa, and Sohye were there.
I was just creating opportunities for them. Showing them the paths, awakening their potential.
And the reason for that was tied to why I'd come to this world.
Staying out of sight as much as possible. Even if revealing myself, only to an appropriate degree.
Like that "fellow student" I'd shown in front of the Tang Family head. That was probably the limit.
An era without SNS or cameras. A world where stories spread only by word of mouth.
Rumors of me unleashing a ten-zhang sword beam and bisecting the Black Heaven Alliance leader? Sure, they'd circulate.
But only if the witnesses were few.
Even those who'd seen it firsthand would doubt their eyes. When the tale spread? They'd call it pure exaggeration.
A ten-zhang sword beam might swell to thirty zhang.
Hell, it might even become "he cleaved a mountain in two."
So I wasn't worried. Besides, a ten-zhang sword beam wasn't that hard anyway.
Thus, our quiet life flowed on.
The north wind began to bite in earnest, and nights grew noticeably longer.
Suns setting early. Training sessions wrapping up sooner.
Long nights left few options.
Without Sohye, I'd probably just have pulled Seolha and Yeonhwa into bed and rolled around with them.
But with Sohye, new possibilities arose.
Throwing hidden weapons could be done indoors just fine, right?
So I had Seolha and Yeonhwa learn hidden weapon techniques from Sohye too.
There were several reasons for teaching them hidden weapons.
The biggest was simply that I hated seeing them idle.
Time had to be used wisely. No slacking off.
But it wasn't just that childish reason.
For one, it would bring the three of them closer.
I wanted them to get along without any friction or drama.
Plus, experiencing hidden weapons firsthand let you understand their trajectories perfectly.
After all, the Tang Family weren't the only ones who threw them.
It also built concentration. Sharpened fingertip sensitivity like nothing else.
Best of all, it enhanced spatial awareness.
Women were more delicate than men but lagged in spatial perception.
This was established fact, biologically and socio-culturally.
I figured that's why female masters were so rare even in this inner energy-all-powerful murim.
Martial arts weren't just flat, back-and-forth, left-and-right movements.
They were three-dimensional, incorporating up and down.
Above all, gauging distances was crucial. Judging range and direction meant life or death.
So they had to learn it.
If innate talent fell short, they'd make up for it through training.
I didn't want to see my women helpless anywhere.
These days, even daytime training included Seolha wielding the One-Thread Sword and Yeonhwa the Cloudflow Sword in spars.
Mastering one art was naturally vital.
But fresh insights often came from learning something new.
Empathy through reversal? Something like that.
In that vein, I was teaching Sohye both the Cloudflow and One-Thread Swords as basics.
Even if hidden weapons were her specialty, she needed to handle a sword competently.
Anyway, time passed like that.
Seasons flowed indifferently. Relentless, sparing no one.
Before I knew it, full winter had arrived, and the weather turned bitterly cold.
Winter. The season when most folks huddled up and stayed put.
The world grew quiet. Winter wasn't ideal for much action.
"Young hero. Word from the main family."
Sohye handed me a sheet of paper on some late-winter day.
"What's it say?"
"Regarding the nameless poison."
"Oh? Really?"
I unfolded the paper and scanned the contents.
Fresh ink scent. Sohye had probably decoded the cipher and transcribed it for me.
I read it carefully, then burned it with my qi once finished.
"Intriguing."
My utterly simple impression.
Honest, no more, no less.
"Mount Tai Sect and Crimson Band Sect. Those two are suspects?"
"Yes, young hero."
Mount Tai Sect. The largest of the orthodox sects after the Righteous-Demonic-Evil Great War.
And the Crimson Band Sect was the same.
Like Mount Tai, they'd become the biggest in the unorthodox world post-war.
If those places were tied to the nameless poison, it was a big deal.
It could flip cause and effect on its head.
Not "they rose highest after the war," but "they orchestrated the war to reach that height."
"No hard evidence, though. Just suspicion for now."
"I'm sorry, young hero."
"No need to apologize. It's better than nothing. Thanks anyway. Tell them to pass on anything else they find. Oh, and it looks like Sichuan's mostly sorted too."
"Yes, young hero. We've reached about seventy percent completion."
"The family head must feel a bit hard done by. All that time hunkered down because of those small fry."
"It's thanks to your help, young hero."
Well, yeah, probably.
Whether murim or military, it was the same.
The manpower tied to each wounded couldn't be ignored.
That's why wars suffered greater losses from injuries than deaths.
The Tang Family was especially so.
Skilled fighters doubled as skilled physicians there.
But now, with hardly any wounded left, it was like shedding heavy shackles.
And the same went for the Qingcheng and Emei Sects, and Jeomchang too.
The Tangs had sent healers their way, so their forces must have surged.
"Good. Sichuan should be fine then. Oh, and..."
"Yes, young hero."
"Don't report so stiffly. You can be a bit softer. Come here."
"Eek... Why does it always lead to this?"
"My whim. Now come."
Sohye drew near, and I pulled her slim waist into my arms with an arm around it.