Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Needle in the Pouch (11)
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Every martial art harbors its own pinnacle essence and profound subtleties. And the forms are merely standardized patterns designed to manifest those subtleties in the most straightforward way possible. Take the Emperor's Sword Form, for example.
It is the sword of a hegemon, infused with the essence of dominance and weight, and the form was created to embody that hegemony. Because that form is the most efficient way to realize the hegemon's dominance.
In this way, it is undeniable—and indeed, as natural as breathing or eating—that every form from the Five Great Clans and Nine Great Sects, and all sects beyond, pursues its own unique subtlety.
However, there was one man who dared to question that absolute truth. He wondered: Why bother confining these subtleties within the rigid framework of forms?
Because of tradition?
Because everyone else does it?
Ridiculous.
Naturally, the man's doubt bordered on utter delusion. Everything in the heavens and earth has its reason for existing. The forms of the martial world are no mere superficial flourishes.
They were born from the most efficient methods and evolved through eras of refinement to maximize their power, reaching their current state.
Thus, the man too, after endless futile efforts, came to realize this reason and ultimately gave up. That is, if he had been merely the kind of genius people commonly imagine.
But the man achieved it nonetheless. At the astonishingly young age of twenty. He unbound the subtleties from the limitations of forms, reducing them to nothing more than a casual swing of the sword.
Sometimes it became a sword infused with the Emperor's Sword Form's dominance, other times a blade carrying the Taiji essence of the Wudang Sect—an omnipotent martial art approaching omniscience. A sword akin to a demon, unbound by form.
Martial artists, laced with fear, called him this.
The Sword Demon.
The first to sense the anomaly was Paeng Hyeoncheol, the chief instructor of the Virtuous Martial Academy. True to his pinnacle realm mastery, he intuited that something ominous was unfolding near the entrance.
He ordered the other instructors to evacuate the students, then raced toward the main gate alone at his utmost speed. Thanks to this, Paeng Hyeoncheol arrived in time to witness the scene.
A sword strike devoid of any form deflected incoming hidden weapons from all directions, then severed Instructor Lee Kanghwi's throat. A massacre that made one doubt their own eyes.
'That's... the Moyong Clan's sword force!!'
Paeng Hyeoncheol was of the generation that had personally glimpsed the Sword Demon's overwhelming might from afar, as he razed the righteous sects long ago. In other words, he was a veteran who had seen it all.
He had even visited the Moyong Clan, which had severed all ties with the martial world, and clashed swords directly with the patriarch at the time, Moyong Jin. Thus, Paeng Hyeoncheol recognized it immediately.
The Dragon Stream Sword. The sword force infused with the ultimate subtlety pursued by the Moyong Clan. But the opponent was no warrior of the Moyong Clan. Paeng Hyeoncheol could not miss that fact.
'I've faced Moyong Clan warriors before. But the inner energy emanating from this man is on a wholly different level from theirs.'
If the inner energy of Moyong Clan warriors felt like the refreshing clarity of a waterfall cascading through a valley, the power from this man was like greedily devouring flames.
It was akin to the ravenous hunger of a starving ghost. A monstrous inner energy he could never forget, even after decades. One he thought he'd never sense again...
"...Did the Moyong Clan send you?"
"No. We are not unaffiliated, but I am not of the Moyong Clan."
'As I feared, it's unmistakably the Sword Demon... Damn it.'
Even so, decades had passed. He had clung to a sliver of hope that it might be otherwise, but the brief exchange confirmed it beyond doubt.
One who could wield the Dragon Stream Sword—the Moyong Clan's pinnacle—with such mastery, yet was no Moyong Clan warrior?
In Paeng Hyeoncheol's seasoned mind, only one such being existed. Moreover, the elderly man standing there confidently evoked no sense of incongruity.
Extraordinary inner energy, the Moyong Clan's Dragon Stream Sword force, and an appearance that could only belong to an elder. Facing him, Paeng Hyeoncheol felt his lips dry.
"But I still haven't heard the most crucial detail. Who are you?"
"...I am Paeng Hyeoncheol, chief instructor of the Virtuous Martial Academy."
"I see."
One of the only two pinnacle experts of the Hebei Paeng Family and chief instructor of the Virtuous Martial Academy. Even upon hearing Paeng Hyeoncheol's name directly, the Sword Demon nodded nonchalantly, as if it meant nothing.
"I want to ask about this situation. What happened here?"
"You don't suspect me?"
"If you harbored killing intent toward me, I wouldn't be standing here unscathed."
It wasn't excessive humility; how could one not be humble before the Sword Demon himself? It was obvious he wouldn't last long in a direct clash.
Thus, the best immediate course was dialogue. Provoking him rashly could mean not just his own end, but the slaughter of all the young students behind him as well.
A rather intimidating old man had appeared.
I'd just killed the madman who summoned assassins out of nowhere to frame me, and right then, this elder popped up, nearly stopping my heart. There's an old saying in the martial world:
Beware of the elderly and children in Murim.
By modern standards, it sounds absurd. But in the martial world, filled with all sorts of freaks, it's not entirely wrong. Elders are almost always experts.
And if a child speaks like an old fogey, beware even more—it could be an ancient monster who shed its bones and took a youthful form. Especially this old man before me; he looked no joke at first glance.
'What kind of build is that... Almost eight feet tall.'
Nearing eight feet in height, with sturdy muscles to match. The elder glaring at me with a stern face seemed ready to embody "mess around and find out" in action...
Naturally, I had to tense up as well. But fortunately, no clash occurred. Rather than drawing his sword, the old man initiated conversation first.
And thanks to the gatekeeper—whom I'd somewhat saved—actively clarifying this highly suspicious situation, I easily shed the murder accusation.
In the pavilion at the center of the academy's pond, Nameless and Paeng Hyeoncheol sat facing each other. Due to the unfortunate incident, the academy had chosen to close its doors temporarily.
"You've sent the students home?"
"Yes. After such an unseemly event, we couldn't very well operate as usual with thick skin."
"Quite right."
"The other instructors have all left as well. Now, will you tell me what happened?"
"First, there's something I must receive."
It had been delayed by the sudden ambush from that lunatic, but my sole reason for coming to the academy remained unchanged. Circumstances aside, what must be claimed must be claimed.
"Your students attacked my disciples. I came to receive an apology for that."
"I have no face to show. Allow me to apologize on behalf of those foolish students."
"Great Hero, there's no need for you to apologize to me. I'd prefer the ignorant students apologize directly to my disciples."
"...I'll arrange that soon."
And surprisingly, the matter resolved smoothly. I hadn't expected such a ready agreement to apologize—perhaps not all of the righteous faction is rotten to the core?
"Surely this isn't a lie?"
"I stake my name, Paeng Hyeoncheol, on this promise."
"Then I have no choice but to believe you."
"That settles this matter... Shall we return to the main topic?"
"Very well."
I recounted the recent events exactly as they happened, without embellishment. With each word, doubt clouded Paeng Hyeoncheol's face.
"A sudden attack? Alongside assassins, no less?"
"Indeed."
"I don't doubt the Great Hero, but Instructor Lee Kanghwi was well-regarded here at the academy. Hot-tempered, perhaps... but not rotten enough to hire killers against a total stranger."
Apparently, this Lee Kanghwi was a highly promising talent at the academy. For even this tiger-like expert to defend him so staunchly. Clearing my throat, I continued.
"If that's not cause for suspicion, then what is it?"
"Not that there's no reason at all?"
"There is a reason. He was a spy for the Demonic Cult."
"...Did you say Demonic Cult just now?"
Where to even begin explaining this...