Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Fisherman's Profit
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"Master Heuk!"
Bing-seol called out into the darkness. He tried to respond, but his breath caught in his throat as something hot and thick forced its way up.
"Ugh! Blech!"
Heuk Do-san vomited up a full bowl's worth of blood clots before he could finally draw even a thin breath.
"Just hang in there a little longer."
He sensed Bing-seol fumbling around nearby. Moments later, the sharp click of flint striking stone echoed, and the lamp flared to life. She must have spotted the flint stones near the lamp beforehand.
The stone chamber lit up again, revealing the surroundings. Bing-seol spotted Heuk Do-san and hurried over to check on him.
"How are you feeling?"
"My body won't listen to me."
Not just his limbs—every single finger joint felt like it belonged to someone else. His guts seemed twisted into knots inside, bile rising endlessly.
Heuk Do-san stared into the darkness across the room.
Snow Mountain Old Man sat slumped against the opposite stone wall, his face a bloody mess. His limbs hung limp, clearly broken in several places. The gash on his side, courtesy of Bing-seol, had long since soaked through with blood.
He spoke.
"You managed to survive, huh."
"On the contrary, that's what I want to ask you. How are you still alive after taking that palm strike?"
"Keheheh. As if this Snow Mountain Old Man could fall to some ragtag remnant of the martial world. But don't get cocky. If I hadn't fallen into qi deviation and lost my martial arts, how could a punk like you have beaten me?"
That was him with his martial arts lost? The one who'd flattened Gong Cheon-ak and him with a single palm, then blasted Seop Dae-gang away with another?
No way. Those blood handprints on all the corpses back in the cavern—weren't they marks from cultivating the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms?
'No way... he lost his martial arts and was rebuilding from scratch?'
If that was true, they'd been beaten by a version of the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms that had lost most of its power. If an incomplete version was this terrifying, a perfected one would be unimaginable—his legs went weak just thinking about it.
Snow Mountain Old Man's words continued.
"No emperor lives to a hundred, right? Every martial artist knows that. And yet everyone dreams of becoming the supreme one. That's what makes us human, and that's the martial world."
"I've known for a while now that your words don't add up. You claimed you had no interest in building power to unify the world under heaven, so what's this dogshit now?"
"I'm not talking about unifying the world under heaven—I'm talking about becoming the supreme one."
"How do you become supreme without unifying the world?"
"If unifying the world is just a step on the path to supremacy, there's no need to avoid it. But it's merely a process, not the goal."
"That's the same damn thing!"
"Far from it. They're completely different matters!"
"You might not know martial arts anymore, but your sophistry is supreme-level. I knew you were a mad old coot, but I didn't realize you were this far gone."
"My death is a trifling thing. But today, the strongest bloodline in the entire martial world will end. Fool—you'll spend the rest of your life regretting this day."
Snow Mountain Old Man seemed resolved to die.
His face and body were wrecked beyond repair. How could he hope to survive?
If his internal injuries weren't so severe, he might eke out a chance with half a day of channeling qi, but Bing-seol wouldn't wait that long.
In his current state, she could finish him with a single dagger.
"Couldn't I inherit that bloodline?"
An unexpected voice cut in.
'What the hell is this bullshit?'
Heuk Do-san whipped his gaze toward the source. Seop Dae-gang, who had been leaning against the left stone wall, was slowly rising to his feet.
"......!"
Seop Dae-gang's face was still pale from the shock of Snow Mountain Old Man's palm strike. His leg dragged slightly, and his left hand moved unnaturally, but he didn't seem greatly hindered in moving.
Compared to Heuk Do-san and Snow Mountain Old Man, he was in far better shape. While the two had clashed, he'd channeled his qi to expel the palm poison from his organs and recover his energy—no doubt about it.
"You... you were stalling on purpose?"
Heuk Do-san clutched his throat.
Seop Dae-gang stepped forward steadily. Startled, Bing-seol gripped her dagger tightly and moved to guard Heuk Do-san.
But Seop Dae-gang brushed past Heuk Do-san without a glance and approached Snow Mountain Old Man. He stopped in front of him and spoke.
"I'll inherit that bloodline."
"Who the hell are you?"
"I'm the seventeenth-generation disciple of Mount Hua Sect. My name is Seop Dae-gang."
"Mount Hua Sect? First monks and demons, then mercenaries, and now some long-nosed Daoist? Fine—who's your master?"
"I studied under Sect Leader Jin-yang."
"Jin-yang, huh. Never heard of that Daoist title before."
Seop Dae-gang felt a surge of humiliation.
Wudang Sect and Mount Hua Sect were both Daoist sects, called the pillars of the martial world alongside Shaolin Temple.
But things had changed in recent years.
Shaolin Temple had closed its gates and yet remained the martial world's foundation. Wudang Sect had produced the heroic Sword Sage Yeop Jeong-cho, leader of all orthodox sects, and was riding high.
Mount Hua Sect, however, had failed to make any notable name for itself.
Snow Mountain Old Man acknowledged the Heavenly Demon and Yeop Jeong-cho as exceptional, yet he didn't even know his master's name—that said it all.
His master had superior Daoist virtues but inferior martial arts to Yeop Jeong-cho; fine character but lacked the man's commanding leadership.
Decisively, his master hadn't passed on the full essence of Plum Blossom Swordsmanship to any of the twenty-four disciples designated as its inheritors—the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Forms.
'Great power comes with equal responsibility. Only when you've become vessels worthy of that power will I teach you the final ten forms.'
His master's stern voice from that late night in the grand hall, as he'd begged for the last ten forms, still rang clear in his ears.
Of course, the jianghu knew nothing of this. They just looked on with envy, thinking how nice it must be to be the current inheritor of Plum Blossom Swordsmanship.
'Damn it all—what good is becoming supreme in old age? That's like a dying geezer donning fine silk robes.'
"Mount Hua has plenty of fine martial arts—why try to inherit my lineage?"
"Because the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms are stronger."
Snow Mountain Old Man's expression shifted oddly.
"The jianghu calls me a demonic fiend. They say the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms are the most evil art under heaven. You know that, right?"
"I do."
"And still you want me as your master?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I want to grow stronger."
"You seem plenty capable of handling yourself already."
"I want to grow even stronger."
"Why do you want to grow stronger?"
"Because I want the world under heaven in my grasp."
The polar opposite of Heuk Do-san's answer.
Snow Mountain Old Man's eyes darkened.
"You crazy bastard!"
Heuk Do-san bellowed.
Seop Dae-gang stared solely at Snow Mountain Old Man, utterly unmoved—as if Heuk Do-san didn't exist. He pressed on.
"Give me the manual for the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms. In return, I'll heal you. And I'll go out into the world to prove that the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms is the one and only supreme art under heaven."
"You're a Mount Hua disciple—can you really display the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms? And can you proclaim to the world that you studied under me?"
Seop Dae-gang sensed this was Snow Mountain Old Man's test.
If he lied, the old man would surely think he'd just take the manual and leave him to die.
"I'll conceal the blood handprints and infuse my fist strikes with Mount Hua's palm techniques. Unlike swords or blades, the power of fists and palms depends not on the subtlety of forms but on the explosive strength that channels true qi. Infusing the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms' true qi into Mount Hua's forms and stances is entirely feasible."
"You think that's as easy as it sounds?"
"I'll stake my life on it. And I won't tell a soul that you're my master."
"You shameless cur!"
"But!"
"......?"
"I will seize the world under heaven. The jianghu may never know, but that doesn't change the fact that the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms is the supreme martial art. Isn't that truly what you desire?"
Snow Mountain Old Man's expression sank lower than ever. Countless thoughts flickered through his small, deep eyes.
Heuk Do-san and Bing-seol watched his mouth tensely.
Seop Dae-gang, by contrast, was calm—as if he knew the old man couldn't possibly refuse.
And he had good reason. Planting his Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms in a Mount Hua disciple would be sweet revenge against those who'd branded him a public enemy of the martial world.
With Mount Hua's solid backing, conquering the world would be far easier. Decisively, taking Seop Dae-gang as a disciple meant surviving right now.
He had no reason to refuse.
A dead silence stretched on. At last, Snow Mountain Old Man's heavy lips parted. And his words exceeded all expectations.
"To seize the world under heaven, you need three things far beyond the common man: greed for the throne, extraordinary insight to read the world's currents, and the ruthlessness to sever your own limbs if needed."
"......?"
"I've seen your greed already, and as a disciple of Mount Hua's sect leader, your insight goes without saying. Let me ask: do you have that ruthlessness?"
"I've already said I'll betray my sect and master."
"That's for later. Prove your ruthlessness right here, right now."
"What do you mean?"
"For your plan to succeed without a hitch, no one can know you learned the Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms. But there are far too many mouths here."
He meant everyone in the stone chamber—Heuk Do-san and Bing-seol, of course, but also the unconscious ones. That naturally included Mo Yong-ak and Hong Gong-tak.
"Shall I silence them by killing them?"
"You son of a bitch...!"
Heuk Do-san ground his teeth.
His rage was so intense he ignored the crushing pain racking his body and shot upright.
Regardless of Heuk Do-san's fury, the two continued their conversation.
"I heard those are your comrades."
"Only two were comrades—the rest were enemies."
"Those two have mouths too."
"Great endeavors demand sacrifices. I'll slaughter them all with the resolve to cut off my own limbs."
"Prove it right now."
"First, give me assurance you'll keep your promise. A mere word won't move me."
"What do you want?"
"Show me the manual."
"You think I won't keep my word? Or are you worried I'll die before passing on all the formulas?"
"Both."
"Kahaha. A Mount Hua disciple indeed—not an easy one. Well, to inherit my bloodline, you need that kind of guts and insight."
"Thank you for understanding."
"Bring the lamp."
"......?"
"Hurry."
Seop Dae-gang fetched the lamp.
Carved from luminous stone, it was the size of a child's head. The center was hollowed out like a pumpkin, filled with oil, fitted with a wick, and lit—a simple design.
Everyone assumed Snow Mountain Old Man would use the lamp to guide them to where he'd hidden the manual. But no.
He barely lifted his broken arm, smeared blood from his head onto his palm, then rubbed it on the lamp. Suddenly, patterns invisible moments before began to emerge.
Evidently, the patterns were engraved into the lamp; when blood filled the grooves, the light passing through created the contrast to reveal them.
But on closer look, it wasn't mere patterns—it was intricate diagrams densely packed with tiny, red-bean-sized characters.
The Hundred Thousand Great Heaven Palms, vanished for over fifty years, had revealed itself.
"Now do you believe me?"
Snow Mountain Old Man asked.
Greed gleamed in Seop Dae-gang's eyes.
Snow Mountain Old Man raised the lamp overhead. His broken arm made it wobble precariously, as if it might drop any second. If it fell, it would shatter like glass.
"Don't get any funny ideas."