Chapter 147
Chapter 147
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Obtaining Enlightenment
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It's exciting.
How much 'pleasure' would the legendary Ten-Tailed Fox bring?
However, Aureum, facing Park Chan-woo, could only tilt his head.
'His presence is weaker than I expected.'
Normally, one might say 'his presence is weak,' but Park Chan-woo's aura was as faint as a heat haze.
It was like something hidden had been forcibly dragged out.
That wasn't the only strange thing.
'The balance is off—way too off.'
His physical balance was utterly bizarre.
Aureum had honed himself for hundreds of years.
He had crossed and shattered countless walls, gaining enlightenment.
'Everything exists within balance.'
A body that lost balance and leaned too far to one side was bound to collapse.
Eventually, it would hit an unbreakable limit.
But that guy wasn't the Ten-Tailed Fox.
Aureum's eyes scanned Park Chan-woo from head to toe.
"Yet, you... Don't tell me your 'base stats' are fixed at 1?"
Hearing that, Park Chan-woo was inwardly surprised.
No one had ever seen through his status at a glance before.
'...He doesn't have something like Han Shin's divine insight.'
He didn't seem to possess any special eyes or observation magic either.
There was no sensation of being pierced through.
His mana flow was calm, like the stream flowing nearby.
He had simply 'observed' purely and reached a conclusion.
Aureum continued.
"Normally, you wouldn't even be able to move properly. You've patched yourself up with 'bonus stats.' That's why your 'balance' is twisted. Hmm, indeed."
For a moment, Park Chan-woo doubted his own ears.
This was the first time anyone had seen through him so precisely.
And just by 'looking.'
...Now he understood.
Why the strongest, like Han Shin, had been terrified of facing Aureum.
Why they trembled in fear, saying they never wanted to fight him again.
"Impure power will eventually hit a limit. The gap between bonus stats and base stats will only widen as levels rise, so you'll never cross that wall. I thought you were the Ten-Tailed Fox, but you're no different from the spirits I command."
Aureum was certain.
This guy wasn't the Ten-Tailed Fox.
He was more like a spirit.
The spirits he commanded had evolved in a similar way.
As beings of the spirit realm, their base stats were fixed, but through endless battles with Aureum, they gained bonus stats and evolved.
But they hit a limit and couldn't grow further.
Because their power was impure and unbalanced.
Park Chan-woo shrugged.
"Are you done saying what you wanted?"
"Even if you've forcibly matched my level, it's still impure power that isn't truly yours. My interest has waned."
Aureum clicked his tongue and let out a small sigh.
It hadn't been long since he'd been thrilled at the appearance of a being that could make him tense after so long.
Yet the 'rival' before him was pathetic.
His excitement had died.
He didn't even feel like reaching out to kill him.
If judged purely by the total sum of 'stats,' they might be roughly equal.
But that wasn't his own power.
It wasn't something he'd achieved himself.
It was a fake pieced together forcibly.
He wondered how he wielded divine beast power or mana close to divine power, but...
Swoooosh!
He lightly swung his hand.
A heavy mass of mana took form from his hand and surged toward Park Chan-woo.
The stage beyond sword aura and sword beam.
Sword Orb.
A compressed form of utterly pure mana.
The pinnacle of pure technique, impossible to block with impure power!
'Die.'
He wasn't worth touching directly.
He couldn't block it anyway, so let his head be severed.
That was the moment.
Just before the sword orb sliced Park Chan-woo's throat.
Clang!
With a heavy sound.
Rumble!
The sword orb was 'deflected.'
It rolled across the ground, toppling about ten trees.
"...Oh ho."
For the first time, 'interest' flickered in Aureum's eyes at that sight.
He had blocked it with the holy sword.
Not completely—his throat was slightly cut—but it regenerated in an instant due to 'super regeneration.'
However, regeneration was none of Aureum's concern.
"You understand the sword."
Blocking a sword orb meant he 'knew' the sword.
A mere mage or someone wielding borrowed power could never block a 'sword orb.'
A sword orb was pure mana compressed to extreme density, solidified, and launched.
It spun madly, generating immense destructive power.
Park Chan-woo had severed that spin with his sword.
He had precisely struck the gap in the mana and deflected it.
It was far from mere quick reflexes.
'He knows the sword.'
His faded interest reignited, if only slightly.
Just from that one swing of the holy sword, Aureum could tell.
The guy purely knew the sword.
He was one who had trained to the extreme, traversing life and death.
No calluses, which made it all the more intriguing.
Swoosh!
Aureum assumed a stance.
Holding his spirit sword.
Thud!
He stomped the ground.
Dust rose, and he vanished from the spot.
In an instant, he was right in front of Park Chan-woo's nose.
Clang!
...Blocked.
This time, he had clearly aimed for the throat.
'How far can he block?'
He grew curious.
Would he land ten strikes first, or would the guy's head fall first?
Obviously the latter.
'...Fun.'
This guy was more entertaining than expected.
Swords clashed with swords.
He barely blocked Aureum's sword by a hair's breadth.
Park Chan-woo now stood on the boundary between life and death.
The sharpness closing in on his throat, the precision of those techniques—they were on a level incomparably beyond anyone he'd faced before.
Valhalla's warriors?
Conqueror Kankun?
'Aureum is several levels above.'
Their levels might be higher, but in swordsmanship comprehension and proficiency, they couldn't match Aureum.
Every step, every leap, every grip and swing of the sword flowed as naturally as water.
It looked formless and wild, but viewed as a whole, it all connected into a single line.
'A wall.'
...He felt it.
The wall that past Park Chan-woo couldn't overcome.
The brilliant talents of Sword King Lee Hyuk-soo, Tyrant Lim Chang-yeol, and Han Shin!
Aureum possessed it too.
No... Aureum's sword wasn't born of talent.
He had surpassed it himself.
"Your sword lacks something."
After about a hundred exchanges.
Aureum pulled back slightly, frowning.
It was fun, but there was an inexplicable sense of regret.
"Have you given up?"
"...Given up on what?"
"I'm saying you reached the foot of the wall and gave up."
"......"
Park Chan-woo didn't answer.
It was true.
His talent was insufficient. He lacked the capacity to catch up to the 'real' ones.
His true talent lay in 'magic.'
Reading mana wavelengths was something only he could do.
Anyone could see his greatest gift was magic, not the sword.
Yet.
"Was it a lack of time? Or did you think you had no talent?"
"......"
"Both? You fool."
Tsk tsk tsk.
Aureum openly clicked his tongue.
He fully understood why it felt regrettable.
"The time to cross the wall can be shortened. Moreover, you possess the most perfect 'sword talent.' You didn't know?"
"......I have sword talent?"
"What do you think sword talent is? Precise strikes? Balance? Infusing mana into the sword? All wrong."
"......"
"Focus, composure, endurance. You have all three."
Hearing that, Park Chan-woo inwardly tilted his head.
Isn't that basic?
But Aureum was serious.
The more they exchanged blows, the more he marveled at Park Chan-woo's transcendent focus.
His ability to respond calmly, his patience to stay within his own domain—all far beyond ordinary.
He surpassed the level of typical swordsmen by leaps and bounds.
In the split-second exchanges of swords, how many could think and move like Park Chan-woo?
Most just blocked and swung on instinct.
That's why it was regrettable.
He could have crossed the wall, but he gave up before he did.
Aureum said.
"The problem is that you have those three so perfectly that you couldn't cross the wall. You think too much when swinging the sword."
Thinking too much.
That kept him from crossing the wall.
He couldn't comprehend it.
Seeing Park Chan-woo's confusion, Aureum smiled.
"Let's speed it up a bit. So you can't think at all."
Fast.
Aureum's sword was accelerating further.
'Complicated.'
If it were just fast, it wouldn't be hard to deal with.
The problem was that it was both complex and fast.
The path of Aureum's sword swings was like a spiderweb.
Unlike his previous swordsmanship, which connected into a grand picture, this was entirely different.
Truly chaotic.
He tried to discern rules or patterns, but there were none.
He was swinging wildly in a state of no-mind, no-thought.
...What kind of swordsmanship is this?
Could this even be called swordsmanship?
Lee Hyuk-soo, Lim Chang-yeol, Han Shin—they all swung toward the conclusion of 'opponent's death.'
There was form, there were rules.
But not here.
Aureum's sword had none of that.
'Just swinging.'
This style of sword was new to him.
Not even a beginner fresh to the sword would swing like this.
Even a drunkard's 'drunken sword' has intent.
The sword path bounced wildly.
Normal thinking couldn't block it.
He had to entrust it to instinct, striking without thought.
Could he?
'...Never tried.'
Letting everything flow without clinging to anything.
But he'd never consciously emptied his mind.
Especially not when swinging a sword.
On the contrary, he'd always focused consciously, set up the board, and won.
That was why he once thought he had sword talent.
......He'd first learned that overthinking might prevent crossing the wall.
Receiving advice like this from someone was a first.
'If this continues, I'll die.'
Of course, Aureum wasn't just advising.
If he lost focus for even a moment, death.
Aureum's killing intent was real.
There was no mercy in his strikes.
That's why the strong like Han Shin were traumatized.
Aureum pointed out flaws without giving time to enlighten, then crushed them.
...How pathetic.
To die realizing your own shortcomings.
Park Chan-woo was barely holding on, endless wounds healing via super regeneration.
Without it, he'd have died before a hundred exchanges.
Could he empty his mind into no-mind under these conditions?
'Empty.'
......He challenged it.
He decided to try emptying once.
Even if it meant death.
But countless thoughts still tangled and interfered.
Park Chan-woo closed his eyes entirely.
Then even more thoughts poured like waves.
He erased them, erased again.
As if resolving to become an idiot.
Trusting only the sword, becoming the sword itself.
The human Park Chan-woo was no longer here.
'I am the sword.'
Nothing but the sword.
Park Chan-woo erased himself.
He eliminated thought itself.
Finally, he became the sword.
No sight, no sound, no thinking.
He even forgot the flow of time.
Park Chan-woo sank deeper into that state.
How much time passed?