Chapter 165
Chapter 165
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: What is a Grandmaster of a Generation? (2)
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Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain.
He knew the words well.
Its speed is like the wind.
Its leisure, like the forest.
Its invasion and plunder, like fire.
Its immobility, like a mountain.
Recalling the memory, Nangong Musan nodded.
"The military strategy from the 'Contention of Armies' chapter of Sun Tzu's Art of War."
"All fights, be they petty squabbles or grand affairs, follow the same principles."
"...I see."
"Not to mention awakening the deficient and engaging in battle."
One must judge coldly, as if looking down from on high. That was only natural.
"A grandmaster's battle differs from the chaotic brawling of street thugs. It's more akin to Go. Do you know the style of the Jegal Family?"
Style referred to the subtle temperament in playing Go.
"The Jegal Family's style is a calculating method of sacrificing small pieces to claim vast territories. It refutes the idea of 'greed for small gains leads to great losses' head-on, one might say."
"Truly befitting the Jegal Family."
"Awakening the deficient in battle is much the same."
Sacrifice the small pieces.
And seize the greater advantage in the overall scheme.
"Above all, those of the Mangcheon Society are cunning beyond measure, full of tricks."
He had dealt with plenty like them.
"They scheme with petty ploys to sow discord and constantly hide. When facing such foes, the key is not to be swayed by minor matters."
"Not swayed by minor matters..."
"For if one wavers on the small and loses sight of the greater purpose, failure is inevitable."
That was precisely why he had mentioned Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain.
"When driving out enemies, never forget this."
Its speed is like the wind.
Strike the enemy with the swiftness of a gale.
Its leisure, like the forest.
Move with the silence of a woodland.
Its invasion and plunder, like fire.
And when advancing to attack, be as ferocious as roaring flames.
"But if shaken by petty tricks, can the momentum of a furious charge endure?"
Brush aside such trifles indifferently.
Its immobility, like a mountain.
When not moving, wait steadfastly like a mountain, deep and unyielding.
"Wait in mountain-like stillness, then strike with ferocious intensity. That is the battle of a grandmaster."
Nangong Chan continued with several more pieces of advice.
Listening intently, Nangong Musan gained profound realization and spoke.
"Indeed, fighting alone differs greatly from leading a sect as its head."
"Precisely. It's not for nothing that they say a leader must harbor the cold frost of the North Sea in their heart."
Cold rationality, again and again.
At Nangong Chan's explanation, Nangong Musan suddenly asked in return.
"Then, what of holding a heart like a blazing fire while acting with cold rationality?"
At the question, Nangong Chan gazed out the window once more, stroking his white beard with a hollow chuckle.
"Hoho. Ideal, isn't it?"
But easier said than done.
Not even remaining unshaken by worldly trials was simple.
"It took me decades to free myself from the world's judgments."
"But who knows? It might not be impossible."
Seeing his son subtly aspire to a loftier goal, Nangong Chan smiled warmly.
"There was such a person."
In the long annals of history, were there ever none?
Dharma of Shaolin, or Zhang Sanfeng the Immortal of Wudang.
"Or perhaps the Heavenly Demon, who opened the era of the demonic path."
And they...
"Transcended a single generation to forge a millennium's legacy, earning the title of Millennial Grandmaster."
"Hah. Hah."
Pal-ho, swinging his sword frantically, had no idea how many times he had brushed death in less than a quarter-hour.
One thing was certain: he was vastly different from when he first entered this place.
Hesitation had vanished from his swordplay, replaced by greater boldness and sharpness.
It was the result of enduring denser life-or-death crises in half a shichen than in a full decade.
'Truly astonishing experience.'
For an assassin, showing emotion mid-battle was exceedingly dangerous, yet Pal-ho could not steady his trembling heart.
'Now I understand what the seniors meant.'
- Don't try to comprehend the unfathomable.
- Just follow.
- You'll understand in time.
It was exactly so.
Simply focusing on following that elusive back ahead had brought this sensation.
So he reveled in it.
Pain in his quivering fingertips from the intense movements, the pounding of his heart on the verge of bursting—all of it.
There had been no choice, in truth.
The master of the unfathomable was benevolent but not merciful; the slightest lapse in tension meant death.
Desperately cutting through enemies amid exhaustion was his only path to survival.
But the battle's end had come.
Boom!
One corner of the hall exploded, flames shooting up.
"Such!"
Already breached the interior?
'Must follow.'
Naturally, fellow assassins provided cover, sweeping away foes.
It was a desperate struggle to advance even a moment faster, but their precision and sharpness differed from their arrival by heaven and earth.
"Argh!"
"Gah!"
Blood sprayed everywhere, roars echoing.
But something was even swifter.
"Tch! Where did this bastard come from?!"
An enemy expert bounced from this floor's hall, leaping onto the roof.
"You ignore this Gal-yeom?!"
Whoosh!
The old master summoned supreme yang energy in both hands, soaring over the debris.
Truly remarkable lightness skill.
"What's there to fear?"
With a leisurely voice, a faint figure flickered between the gaps of this floor's hall.
'It's the master.'
His demeanor, hands behind his back as if on a stroll, contrasted sharply with the disheveled old master.
"I'll burn you to ashes!"
But those were the old master's final words.
The master leaped from the hall's gap and kicked the head of the foe thrusting twin palms at him.
Thud!
A plain kick, yet the struck head arced through the air, crashing into a corner of the courtyard.
Crash. Boom.
The headless corpse, drained of energy, slammed into the hall wall and slid down the eaves.
Thud.
With a dull sound as the body hit the ground.
Whoosh!
From one side, bandages surged, sweeping away the remaining survivors.
"Kahahaha! So exhilarating!"
Bloody black bandages mercilessly slaughtered amid the fray.
"Not bad. You've kept up."
The low voice signaled the battle's end.
Only then did Pal-ho collapse to the ground.
"Ha. Ha. Ha."
For some reason, the master's approval felt like a celebration of his rebirth in a hundred battles.
Gazing at the strewn corpses, Dan-ya spoke in a voice laced with killing intent.
"The sect leader of the Fake Sword Sect."
"Sounds familiar."
"A major faction head in the Lesser Lake region."
"Think I saw him at the Myojin Sect too."
It seemed the weeds had taken deep root.
"You don't plan to end it here, do you?"
Dan-ya said worriedly.
She seemed regretful at losing a chance to rampage freely.
'Hoho. She has her cute side.'
He hadn't sought all-out war until now, not out of fear of the Mangcheon Society, but aversion to the inevitable misfortune at its end.
But now that he had found traces of the bride, retreating would only amplify the danger.
"Dan-ya."
"Yes. M-master. If it's your will..."
"Just sounding the trumpet and stopping here would be a waste."
They would strike straight to the society's core.
"Really?!"
The weakening bandages perked up vigorously.
"Of course."
Shouldn't he see the face of whoever was making such a nuisance?
"Tell Uncle Sima. Have him find the Lesser Lake society's head."
"Tch. How did this happen."
Radiant Pure Sword Ko Il-seo clicked his tongue.
The aroma of precious Luoyang tea, White Tiger Silver Needle, which usually calmed his mind, offered no solace now.
Because of the news he had just confirmed.
"Five places collapsed?"
All in a mere two days.
Gazing at the sunset reddened unusually by recent rains, Ko Il-seo couldn't shake the ominous feeling.
"A decade of preparation crumbling in an instant."
Since allying with the Mangcheon Society, he had never faced such a situation.
The society's secrecy had fooled the world's eyes, and its power surpassed most sects.
The smooth years now rang hollow; this failure's damage was beyond words, even if he had two mouths.
Worst of all, despite massive losses, they hadn't identified the culprits.
"Where did the leak spring from?"
The Nangong Family was the prime suspect.
But no matter his renown in Lesser Lake, even as one of the Nest Lake Ten Heroes representing the city's top expert, he couldn't know all the Nangong Family's secrets.
As the pinnacle of the Ten Great Clans, the Nangong Family's walls—embodied by the Heaven-Splitting Generation—were immensely high and solid.
"Damn it. With the Apostle so near, this happens."
The Apostle was ruthless.
Those deemed useless were discarded like roadside weeds.
Tension gripping him, he gnawed his nails.
"Maybe the ones who raided the manor."
Recalling the recent hidden base massacre, he faced a choice.
"Must contact the other branch leaders."
Normally, they must never know or meet each other.
But circumstances had changed.
"If they don't want to die to the Apostle, they're desperate too."
Worried, Ko Il-seo penned a secret code.
The next day.
Arriving at the meeting place—a Confucius Temple far from Lesser Lake—Ko Il-seo froze upon seeing someone already there.
"Well. Were you part of the council too?"
The smiling opponent was one he knew well.
'Nest Lake Divine Spear.'
A spear master called one of the Nest Lake Ten Heroes alongside him.
"I didn't expect the Nest Lake Divine Spear here. With Murim Alliance duties keeping you so busy."
"Hoho. Nor did I expect the Radiant Pure Sword."
The moment their gazes met.
Woooong.
Their unleashed inner energy clashed, whipping up a heatwave that shook the temple's furnishings.
Only natural.
Among the Nest Lake Ten Heroes—the strongest ten warriors of Lesser Lake—their poor relations were infamous.
But they soon withdrew their auras.
"Enough pointless animosity."
"Agreed. Now's not the time for personal grudges."
Thud.
Stamping the floor with his black spear to vent old grudges was irksome to watch, but Ko Il-seo felt some relief inwardly.
'This one will be useful.'
As he harbored such thoughts.
"Hmph. The famed righteous swordsman of the orthodox faction in the council. People would be shocked."
The man's tone dripped sarcasm, but Ko Il-seo, masking his feelings, replied smoothly.
"Compared to the Murim Alliance's Lesser Lake branch chief being recruited?"
"Tch. Can't argue there."
That was why Ko Il-seo inwardly cheered.
This black spear master was the Alliance's branch chief dispatched to Lesser Lake.
'A branch chief would know well the Alliance and Nangong Family matters.'
With a famed Lesser Lake hero and the branch chief allied, no one in Lesser Lake could oppose them.
'If only more like him...'
But the arrivals that followed disappointed.
"Oh, not the Divine Spear?"
"Heavens. Even Radiant Pure Sword."
The two in flashy brocade robes fell far short of him.
'Nest Lake Martial Hall and Great Lake Merchant Group?'
Merely Peak Realm in martial arts, negligible influence.
'But their wealth is formidable. Not entirely useless.'
Sharply assessing, Ko Il-seo offered them seats.
"Seems everyone's here."
As he prepared to begin in earnest.
"One hasn't arrived yet."
At Nest Lake Divine Spear's words, Ko Il-seo tilted his head.
"Strange. I sent letters to three."
"Heh. Don't be surprised. There's a real heavyweight besides us."
Real heavyweight?
"You didn't blab carelessly, I hope."
"Do I seem that sloppy?"
Chuckling amusedly, Nest Lake Divine Spear continued.
"Truth be told, I was shocked when they first contacted me."
"Someone besides me?"
"Looks like they've arrived. Brace yourself."
With himself, a famed Lesser Lake hero, and even the Alliance branch chief present.
'What could surprise me more here?'
Just then.
"Seems we're late."
"Greetings."
Ko Il-seo's jaw dropped at the two entering.
"Y-you two?"