Chapter 291: Foundation (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 291: Foundation (3)
Bi-yeon held deep respect for her master, Geum Hee.
Before they met, Bi-yeon had been nothing more than an orphan, holding the empty title of successor to the unremarkable Yangrok Sect.
Her master had taken her in as a disciple and brought her into the Namgung Clan.
She later learned that her master was the successor of the Divine Sword Geum Family, a clan that had once boasted immense power.
Bi-yeon vaguely recalled her father mentioning them. The Divine Sword Geum Family—a clan that stood above the Sixteen Major Sects and Clans. A truly great family where a god was said to reside.
However, that great family had been destroyed, leaving her master in the same destitute situation as Bi-yeon.
Her master had barely scraped by, eking out a day-to-day survival in the back alleys, until she miraculously met her Sabaek—her master’s senior fellow disciple—and began the life she lived now.
Wait, according to something her master had whispered in her ear one day, was that man actually her Sahyeong rather than her Sabaek?
The terrifying Evil-Annihilating Heavenly Lord, Lee Seo-jun, whose name resounded throughout the Central Plains, was her master’s disciple.
It was nothing short of astonishing.
Though it was hard to believe, Bi-yeon trusted her master’s words without a shred of doubt.
When her master was with her older brother, she sometimes acted spoiled, showing the side of an ordinary girl her age. But when she wasn't—especially when they went out to the marketplace to take care of business—she revealed the dignified, unreserved aura of a true female master.
Bi-yeon had fallen completely for that cold, sharp demeanor.
She vowed that she, too, would one day become such a master and make the name of the Yangrok Sect known to the world.
Because of this absolute faith, Bi-yeon would believe her master even if she claimed fermented soybeans were made of red beans. If her master said it was so, then it was so.
Thus, taking her master’s words to heart, Bi-yeon watched her Sahyeong, the Evil-Annihilating Heavenly Lord, dispose of the Black Path trash without blinking an eye.
“Wow…”
The sight completely shattered Bi-yeon’s preconceived notions of martial arts.
To her, a master was simply someone who was faster, stronger, and capable of unleashing more power.
Splaaash!
But look at him. His movements were slow enough to be clear even to Bi-yeon’s untrained eyes. Yet, with those very movements, three heads had already flown.
When he first drew his sword, he decapitated his opponent with a startlingly swift motion. But when dealing with the second, he sliced the man’s throat with a single, light, and agonizingly slow movement.
As if that alone were enough.
“Is that… a sword technique?”
Thump! Thump! Bi-yeon’s heart pounded wildly. Her hands itched. She wanted to become a martial artist just like that.
Without realizing it, she asked her master.
“What kind of sword technique is that…?”
“That?”
Chun-bong’s eyes darted around.
Avoiding with minimal movement, cutting concisely, piercing openings. That wasn't some named sword technique; he was just exceptionally good at swinging a sword.
But wouldn't answering, 'He's just swinging it,' completely ruin the mood?
“Well, uh… It’s the Yellow Cloud Divine Sword.”
“The Yellow Cloud Divine Sword…”
“Ahem, yes. It’s a divine art that can be called the greatest sword technique in the Central Plains.”
It wasn't entirely a lie. The Yellow Cloud Divine Sword was indeed the foundation of Lee Seo-jun’s skills.
As Chun-bong shifted her gaze, she noticed Namgung Su-ah watching Seo-jun without a word.
Her body was coiled tight with tension, ready to leap into the fray at any moment. The way she gripped her sword hilt was chillingly sharp.
‘If it gets dangerous, I have to step in.’
If it looked like Seo-jun was about to be cut down, Namgung Su-ah intended to intervene without a moment’s hesitation. Her blue eyes tracked his every move.
On the roof of a building near an unnamed Black Path sect, while the three women watched him, each lost in their own thoughts…
Seo-jun faced off against over a dozen men.
* * *
“Who the hell are you?!”
“You crazy bastard, do you know where you are?!”
Did the Black Path have some kind of instruction manual for responding to intruders?
Letting the cliché threats go in one ear and out the other, Seo-jun calmly assessed the men before him.
‘If I don’t have Qi Sensing, I’ll just have to rely on my five senses.’
There was an old saying.
No matter how great a master of the sword you are, if the number of opponents exceeds three, run away immediately.
Or was it four instead of three? Whatever.
Simply put, it was nearly impossible for even a Swordmaster to fend off blades flying in from all directions. Of course, that was just something he’d heard back when he lived in Korea, so it didn't necessarily apply to the Murim.
The rules changed significantly once internal energy was involved.
However, the current Seo-jun had completely sealed away his internal energy. Right now, he was no different from an ordinary mortal.
His opponents, on the other hand, were actively using internal energy, even if most were only at the Third-rate or Second-rate level. There were over a dozen of them, with a First-rate master mixed into their ranks.
If he were in his right mind, he would have used his head and fought with his back against a wall. But Seo-jun wasn't exactly feeling sane at the moment.
He simply charged straight in.
“This brings back memories…!”
Charging with a bright smile, Seo-jun swept his sword toward the lower left. The tip of his blade remained dead-centered on his opponent.
“Wait—!”
As the sunlight reflected off the steel and stung his eyes, one of the men faltered.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
In his panic, the man swung his broad blade haphazardly, but there was no way such a sloppy attack would land.
Easily finding an opening, Seo-jun thrust his sword upward in a flash.
Puchak!
The blade pierced right under the man's chin and burst out through the crown of his head.
“Gurgle…!”
As blood sprayed like a fountain, the surrounding men roared in fury.
“You crazy bastard!”
“Kill him!”
A broad blade slashing down from the right, a thrust from the left, and from behind… a horizontal slash?
He couldn't see it, so he couldn't be absolutely sure, but Seo-jun could guess.
He felt the sound of the wind being cut and the minute flow of air brushing against his skin. It was all thanks to his deepened understanding of the wind, gained from copying Sin-pung’s Formless Wind and Fire.
Slash!
Seo-jun slid his foot to the right. Clang! He nudged the downward-slashing broad blade just enough to alter its trajectory, causing the strike from the right to tangle awkwardly with the blade swung from behind.
Clink!
Sparks flew. Seo-jun quickly snapped his head back. Swish! The thrust from the left narrowly grazed his collar.
Without missing a beat, he returned the thrust.
Thud.
The sword pierced straight through an eye before being smoothly pulled back out.
Splaaash!
Blood erupted, drenching the face of the man standing opposite him.
“Argh…!”
Blinded by the blood, the man flailed about. Whoosh! Whoosh! In his panic, he swung his broad blade wildly.
Thwack!
A clear sensation of impact traveled up his hands. The man smiled, certain he had cut his opponent down.
“Got you, you son of a—!”
“Gaaah…! You motherfucker!”
However, what the man’s broad blade had actually struck was his own comrade’s shoulder—the guy who had been standing right behind Seo-jun.
As the injured man tried to swing his blade in retaliation, he tripped, and his comrade’s blade sank even deeper into his shoulder.
“Oh dear.”
Seo-jun chuckled and swung his sword horizontally.
Splaaash!
His blade sliced cleanly through the arteries of both men, sending a fountain of crimson blood erupting into the air.
“Gurgle…!”
“Ack…!”
The two men collapsed, clutching their gushing throats, as the remaining thugs rushed in.
“Where the hell did you come from?!”
“Don’t expect to leave here in one piece today!”
Shouting all the familiar, cliché lines, the men surrounded Seo-jun and swung their broad blades like madmen.
Yet, not a single blade managed to touch Seo-jun’s body.
It was as if they were fighting a ghost.
His movements weren't particularly fast. In fact, they seemed slower than their own. And yet, the broad blades they swung naturally failed to connect, while their opponent’s sword effortlessly found its way into their comrades’ throats and eyes.
Especially that movement—the one that shot out like a sudden explosion.
It was paradoxically slow, yet blindingly fast.
Three men had already died to that single motion.
“There we go.”
Seo-jun smiled as he watched the primal fear gradually taking root in the men’s eyes.
His weak, unenhanced body was already screaming with fatigue. He was out of breath, and his right arm, which had been swinging the sword non-stop, was trembling.
But the more it ached, the more vividly Seo-jun felt his own physical form.
A battlefield where blades crossed.
The erupting blood, the screams, the hot breath bursting from his lungs, the distorted expressions of his enemies.
It all reminded him of his days in the back alleys, back when he was known as the Killing Ghost.
The only distinct difference from back then was his current status.
Even as the flurry of swords and broad blades became intricately entangled, the sequence of events about to unfold was already clearly mapped out in Seo-jun’s mind.
‘A mortal body and a Transcendent soul. In a desperate situation, the two grow further apart, yet paradoxically achieve harmony.’
But what was more important than that harmony was the profound sense of disconnect.
The separation of body and soul.
Ultimately, to reach the Profound Realm, one had to shed the limitations of the physical body.
By trapping himself in a mortal vessel, Seo-jun ironically felt an immense sense of liberation. He felt as if his soul were moving entirely on its own, freed from the stifling confines of flesh.
“Whew…”
By the time Seo-jun snapped out of his strange sense of achievement, only two men remained standing on their own two feet before him.
Thwack!
No, make that one.
The First-rate master collapsed, spitting out bloody froth as the tip of Seo-jun's sword slid out of his pierced throat.
The last remaining man stared at Seo-jun, his expression hardened into a grim mask.
“…Who the hell are you?”
“Doesn't matter.”
Seo-jun’s eyes scanned the man. Even with his Qi Sensing sealed, he could tell just by looking.
This guy was the Sect Leader.
His breathing and the sheer stability of his posture were on a completely different level from the grunts.
The Peak Realm.
Could he truly face a Peak Realm master with nothing but a mortal body?
For a moment, the corners of Seo-jun’s mouth curled up into a smirk, and the Sect Leader immediately seized that opening.
Flash!
The broad blade, shrouded in murky Blade Qi, sliced violently through the air. It was a speed utterly impossible for a mortal’s eyes to follow.
“You…!”
The Sect Leader’s blade repeatedly tore through the air. Unlike his underlings, his blade work actually followed a proper martial form.
The Sect Leader was quite confident in his skills. He felt as if he could split this arrogant boy’s body in two at any given moment.
Swoosh!
Yet, his blade simply couldn't reach him.
He couldn't understand it. Why?
The boy’s movements were clearly slow. His eyes couldn't even track the broad blade. It was only after the blade was swung that the boy’s eyes followed its trajectory, a full beat too late.
Then how was he dodging?
“What…! What the hell are you?!”
Seo-jun calmly stepped back, effortlessly evading the Sect Leader’s relentless blade. He smoothly slid past the hand that lunged out to grab him, then gave the Sect Leader’s exposed shoulder a light, mocking shove.
“I suppose this is enough for now.”
Having clearly perceived the distinct outline of his soul, Seo-jun kicked off the ground and retreated a fair distance away.
His fatigue-drenched body trembled.
Even though he had evaded the Sect Leader’s attacks with absolute minimal movement, Seo-jun was the one who was far more exhausted.
It was simply the unavoidable difference in pure physical ability.
Since he couldn't physically clash against a weapon coated in Blade Qi, evasion was mandatory. But even if he read the preparatory movements and dodged early, a Peak Realm master’s heightened senses could easily track a mortal’s sluggish movements.
Ultimately, he had to forcefully contort himself to dodge the trajectory of the blade as it twisted mid-swing to follow him. Because of that unnatural strain, his frail body creaked and screamed in protest.
“Die…!”
Noticing that Seo-jun was exhausted, the Sect Leader lunged forward in a vicious surprise attack.
Step!
Seo-jun’s mortal eyes couldn't even process the movement.
But the very moment the man’s toes twitched, Seo-jun threw himself heavily to the left, causing the broad blade to cut through empty air.
However, the Sect Leader’s sharp eyes immediately caught that sluggish evasion. The trajectory of the blade—which he had intentionally withheld full power from—shifted in an instant.
Whoooosh!
Yet, the broad blade cleaved through empty air once again. It harmlessly grazed over the head of Seo-jun, who had already crouched low to the ground.
“If you’re going to change your move mid-attack, you shouldn't prepare for it so far in advance.”
Since the man was already preparing his second strike while setting up the first, his entire sequence of movements was completely readable.
Seo-jun chuckled and casually flicked his sword.
The Sect Leader’s eyes instantly went dull. Before the man even realized what happened, Seo-jun’s sword had pierced his chest and smoothly pulled back out.
Splaaaaash!!
Taking the erupting fountain of blood head-on, Seo-jun patted his own aching body.
“Oof, my poor bones…”
He felt like his physical form was on the verge of falling apart.
He had only won because this guy’s blade work was utterly mediocre for a Peak Realm master. If he had been someone properly trained in an orthodox sect, he might have actually been difficult to handle.
“This is why people need a proper education.”
Soon, his sealed internal energy erupted, instantly sweeping through his entire body.
His exhausted muscles recovered at once, and his ragged breathing stabilized in an instant. Even the hot blood that had soaked his clothes evaporated in a flash, leaving him looking completely pristine.
‘Anyway, this should be enough for now.’
He could feel the connection between his body and soul much more clearly than before.
It meant he was finally fully prepared to copy the martial arts of other Transcendent Realm masters with absolute perfection.
“Shall we get going?”
The time for his grand martial arts harvest had finally arrived.
As for his first destination… right.
The Wudang Sect, considered the Mount Tai and Big Dipper of the Righteous Faction, would be a perfect start.
“Let’s go.”
Lee Seo-jun, the martial arts bandit, was officially on the move.