Chapter 2
Chapter 2
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Nine Deaths One Life (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Realm.
It was a concept that comprehensively expressed the skills a martial artist honed over a lifetime. At the same time, it was the goal every martial artist yearned to reach someday—a higher plane.
They called the stage where one couldn't even properly handle internal energy "third-rate." The stage where one began to grasp the forms and wield internal energy was dubbed "second-rate."
From second-rate onward, one was treated as a true martial artist. Even at that level, ordinary civilians wouldn't dare challenge them. Yet the gap between first-rate and second-rate was even more extreme.
It wasn't merely about handling internal energy. It was the realm where one fully comprehended the intent behind their martial arts and could execute the exquisite techniques embedded within to a certain degree.
That was what they called first-rate.
Even the same form executed by a first-rate martial artist carried a different class altogether, thanks to their profound insight—something a second-rate couldn't even dream of carding—and their masterful control of internal energy.
And first-rates could recognize each other. Though Moyong Hyeon had only just barely dipped a toe into the first-rate realm, that faint insight allowed him to vaguely gauge his opponent's level.
Especially the man the assassins called their squad leader—he was at least first-rate. Otherwise, he couldn't have wielded the Moyong Clan's exquisite techniques so flawlessly.
Even in the Moyong Clan, one pillar of the Five Great Clans, first-rate martial artists weren't commonplace. Roughly forty of the clan's warriors had reached that realm.
Excluding those like Moyong Hyeon, whose attainment was ambiguous at best, the number dropped to about thirty. It was only thanks to them that he had managed to fend off the squad leader's techniques.
But the opponent overwhelmed him not just in internal energy control, but in understanding and proficiency with the forms as well. In the end, Moyong Hyeon couldn't hold out for long. He was dragged around until he inevitably fell in defeat.
Of course, considering Moyong Hyeon was only in his late twenties, it was an impressive feat. But if that passing old man hadn't intervened, it would have meant nothing.
His remarkable talent would have withered before it could even bloom. At first, Moyong Hyeon had panicked, wondering if his own reckless actions had led to an innocent man's death.
'For me, Moyong Hyeon—the Young Lord of the Moyong Clan, one pillar of the Five Great Clans upholding the Orthodox Murim Alliance—to drag an unrelated innocent into this... How shameful.'
His body trembled with shame, yet he clung to consciousness until the end. Seizing the moment when the squad leader turned his focus to the elder, he prepared to unleash his final exquisite technique with the resolve of mutual destruction.
'At the very least, I won't let innocent blood be spilled.'
With that desperate vow burning in his chest, he reached for his sword. But the scene that unfolded next left even Moyong Hyeon stunned. Of course, he had known the elder was no ordinary man.
An old man wandering alone on a remote mountain path late at night? If he hadn't been visible to others, Moyong Hyeon might have mistaken him for a ghost.
But he couldn't bank on a first-rate martial artist happening to pass by and turn the tide in this dire situation. That was why he had resolved to go for mutual destruction no matter what.
Yet in that instant, Moyong Hyeon saw it clearly with his own eyes. The old man's sword flashed from his waist like lightning, severing the squad leader's neck with effortless grace.
One might say, "What's so special about a sword cutting flesh?" But cleanly bisecting a human body with a blade was never easy—especially against a first-rate martial artist.
A first-rate's body was tougher than steel, forged by layers of external martial arts. On top of that, they had mastered channeling internal energy to coat their skin like armor, warding off enemy strikes.
They called it protective qi.
That was one reason even battles between first-rates rarely ended swiftly. Yet the elder had done it with a single stroke—a mere iaijutsu draw, no less.
'I thought he was extraordinary, but to behead a first-rate martial artist with nothing more than a casual iaijutsu draw, without even assuming a proper stance or form... He didn't display sword qi, the hallmark of the pinnacle realm, but he must be at least a pinnacle expert...!!'
This was no exaggeration. By Moyong Hyeon's understanding, no one short of a pinnacle realm master could decapitate a first-rate so effortlessly, without relying on forms.
And barring sheer heavenly fortune, even the Five Great Clans boasted at most two or three such pinnacle experts. To receive aid from one?
This was a fateful encounter worthy of legend.
'He doesn't use sword qi, so perhaps second-rate at best. We got lucky.'
Of course, the man in question harbored entirely different thoughts.
The tide turned in an instant. The moment I severed the enemy leader's head, the assassins panicked. Seizing the opening, the group of young men who had begged my aid launched a counterattack and claimed victory.
His voice brimmed with confidence, and he strode forward with such bravado. I figured he must have some ace up his sleeve. But a second-rater who couldn't even muster sword qi?
Still, it wasn't incomprehensible. In wuxia tales, realms ascended to the likes of the Profound Realm, Life-and-Death Realm, even Spontaneous Realm or Natural Realm. But those were stories of the murim world.
I had no idea exactly where this mountain lay, but it was no stage of Central Plains murim. If anything, it felt more like some rural backwater than a martial realm.
'Even in modern wuxia novels where first-rate is as common as dirt, a first-rate is still a first-rate. Can't have pinnacle experts rolling around in the sticks like this.'
Which meant these masked thugs were just bandits. Generously, greenwood outlaws at best. The people they'd nearly killed? Minor caravan merchants, I concluded.
"My deepest thanks, Great Hero. I am Moyong Hyeon, Young Lord of the Moyong Clan."
"......"
When the apparent leader of the youths introduced himself as from the Moyong Clan, I was honestly a bit taken aback. Depending on the tale, the Moyong Clan was one of the Five Great Clans.
Not to be rude, but... for even a Young Lord of the Moyong Clan to be this weak? I couldn't hide the pity in my eyes.
But I didn't voice it outright. He was the Young Lord of the Moyong Clan, pillar of the Five Great Clans. No need to rub salt in the wound.
"If I may be so bold, Great Hero, what is your honorable name?"
"Call me Nameless."
[I believe in you. I entrust you with the name Nameless. Please fulfill our long-cherished wish in our stead.]
It wasn't some alias I made up. "Nameless" was the name the old man had bestowed upon me. He was my lifesaver—practically a parent to me.
I had no intention of discarding the name he'd given. Though one thing nagged at me... "Our long-cherished wish"? What the hell was that about?
"Understood, Great Hero."
"What are your plans from here?"
"First, we must recover the bodies of our brave fallen warriors and return to the Moyong Clan."
"This wasn't some purposeful caravan?"
"Correct. But one can't achieve greatness with enemies at their back."
Evidently, the Moyong Clan itself had orchestrated this ambush. Sending assassins to ditch their own Young Lord? The Five Great Clans were all dysfunctional powder kegs.
After expressing his gratitude, Moyong Hyeon promptly began recovering the bodies of his clan's warriors. Sadly, twenty young martial artists had perished in the attack.
Once the clan's dead were gathered, they even collected the assassins' corpses. Apparently, to root out traitors back home.
"My thanks once more. Please accept this modest token of appreciation."
"......Modest? This?"
"You safeguarded the Moyong Clan's future. I'm ashamed this is all I can offer on the spot."
What he handed over as a reward for saving his life were ornate boxes plainly brimming with value, packed with a hefty sum of silver taels to boot. And he called this modest?
"Once this matter is resolved, I'll return with proper recompense, Great Hero."
With that, Moyong Hyeon led his men back to the Moyong Clan. At first, I took it as polite empty talk. Honestly, this was more than enough thanks already.
But it wasn't mere words. About two months later, he truly came back. This time, with a young girl in tow.
"Who's the child?"
"Greet him properly, Sua. This is the Great Hero Nameless who saved your brother's life."
She was a striking girl with shoulder-length brown hair. Her sharp, sculpted eyes scanned me up and down before her lips curled into a smirk.
"Why'd you drag me to a dump like this?"
What the hell, you brat?