Chapter 167
Chapter 167
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: What Does a Grandmaster Mean? (4)
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Thud. Thud.
Under the solemn moonlight, the conference's masters were being mercilessly swept away.
Hot blood sprayed upward as those with twisted faces tangled in chaotic melee.
Thud. Thud.
The strange thing was how quiet the deaths were.
They screamed in agony, let out single bursts of shrieks, and wailed.
Yet the world remained utterly silent.
Thud. Thud.
But in Go Il-seo's eyes, the figure approaching this place with even strides seemed even stranger.
It was a young man with a youthful face.
The one walking with hands clasped behind his back, his neat martial robes fluttering lightly.
Thud. Thud.
His face was indiscernible.
But the smile bared beneath his disheveled hair was unmistakably one of pleasure.
'He's... smiling?'
Thud. Thud.
Incredibly, the one walking in a straight line was smiling.
That wasn't the only bizarre thing.
Amid dozens tangling, killing and dying, nothing obstructed the youth's straight path.
----!
Someone sprayed blood, but the youth had already passed by.
He hadn't quickened his pace particularly. Nor did he show intent to dodge.
It was just luck that a fountain of blood erupted right where he happened to brush past.
Thud. Thud.
But dismissing it as coincidence was too peculiar.
The blood winds blew only before or after the man passed.
Thud. Thud.
In the midst of this hellish scene, Wang-woo bowed his head toward the youth maintaining even strides, with utmost reverence.
"I see you, my lord."
Seeing Wang-woo's eyes filled with ecstasy, Go Il-seo suddenly understood why someone could walk through this space blooming with death at even paces.
'This man grasps and orchestrates this entire hell.'
This man is the one who created and directed this land of death.
Even the bloody battlefield of over a hundred clashing is merely under this man's will.
That realization led his thoughts elsewhere.
Perhaps this man also created the space where deaths occurred silently.
Probably by enveloping the surroundings with an immense qi barrier through profound inner power.
His guess wouldn't be wrong.
It was a technique he himself could mimic now that he had gained two hundred years of cultivation.
Though limited to blocking voices for close secret talks.
Enveloping the vast grounds before the Confucius Temple like this man was something he couldn't even dream of.
'Is he even human?'
Absolutely impossible.
As he concluded, the mind that had been sharply turning until moments ago grew blank.
"Ah... Ah... Ah..."
What if he were a god? Would that make it possible?
Realizing this, he suddenly felt depressed.
'I sold my soul to reach my current position.'
I sold out the righteous faction's soul, discarded my reputation to join the Heaven-Defying Society.
I bowed to demonic apostles, made every effort for spirit pills and manuals.
Yet all the history I built as an individual amounted to nothing before this being.
I struggled so desperately to rise beyond the Ten Little Heroes into a proud master of the martial world.
'To this being, it's merely the wriggling of a tiny insect.'
What use is two hundred years of cultivation?
Suddenly, regret flooded him.
Thump.
As Go Il-seo collapsed to his knees, the now-approaching youth grinned.
"You're quite perceptive."
From beyond the heavens.
The unfathomable being spoke.
"This one's mouth is enough."
Thwack!
A sound rang out. Turning, he saw the Little Divine Spear pinned to the wall, limp.
Dead.
Steadying his trembling gaze, the unfathomable one asked.
"I have one question."
Go Il-seo unwittingly shook his head vigorously.
***
The opponent's question was simple.
"Who is your backer?"
Barely calming his mind, Go Il-seo said without even lifting his head.
"Please spare me."
"Depends on your performance."
The firm reply was unexpectedly light.
This sparked a sliver of greed in his heart.
"If I reveal the secret, the restriction implanted in me will activate and kill me."
"Then you must die."
Firm. Not the response he'd hoped for.
"Reveal the secret and die."
The opponent's tone brooked no refusal. Normally, one might negotiate, but instead, his mind calmed.
"Tell me about the apostles."
"As expected, it was you who acted."
Now all doubts were resolved.
No matter how strong, no one could silently wipe out the conference's forces.
'Against such a being, it's unavoidable.'
No human power can block a typhoon or gale.
Natural disasters can't be stopped by human hands.
Nor could he harbor hatred.
Like not resenting a cliff after falling to death.
Accepting inevitable death, Go Il-seo spoke.
"Since I'll die anyway, I have a request."
"Your tongue's quite long."
Chills ran up his spine, but Go Il-seo held firm.
"I want to face your sword."
"My sword?"
Heh heh. Wanting to play warrior at the end?
"If you draw your sword, I surely couldn't withstand even one exchange."
"Your eyes aren't bad either."
"I want to at least pretend to be a martial artist at the last moment."
"Greed is a flaw."
The youth clicked his tongue with an old man's smile.
"No need to take the long way around."
Good.
"The one who named this technique awaits friends dying to it in hell."
The swordsmanship unfurled was Seven Jewels Soul Severance.
"You'll die within seven steps."
So, child.
Spill everything you know within seven steps.
Thud.
The familiar even strides resumed.
Splurt!
Watching his chest split open, Go Il-seo realized.
'Begging for my life, or unleashing a final desperate strike.'
All of it.
'Was under his calculations?'
Go Il-seo crumpled to his knees.
***
As he looked down at the cooling corpse, Wang-woo approached.
"Ho ho ho. As expected, my lord's sword skill reaches the heavens."
"Eh, nothing special."
Myo-gwang, who had been standing by, swiftly retrieved a thick paper from the dead Little Divine Spear's bosom inside.
"What's this?"
"Seems like news from the Murim Alliance."
"Send it to Yoran. We received help, so we should repay it."
Dismissing Myo-gwang, Chu Un-hwi furrowed his chin.
"The apostles taking interest is quite troublesome."
"Enough to worry you, my lord?"
"The apostles themselves are just annoying."
The problem was what Go Il-seo said while dying.
"But obtaining the Blood Dew Stone is the issue."
"Looks like human sacrifice happened elsewhere too."
"With the Murim Alliance on high alert, how they managed it is beyond me."
Useless. Murim Alliance.
"Maybe they schemed where eyes couldn't reach."
"I'll look into it."
"And Dan-ya."
No sooner had he spoken than Dan-ya leaped to his side.
"Speak— my lord."
"You heard, but that apostle might come directly with his rabble."
If so, don't cause trouble—just retreat unconditionally.
"What? Can't we just turn them all into minced meat?"
"Absolutely not. They're no pushovers."
The rabble could be handled, but the apostle who obtained the stone must be avoided at all costs.
Especially.
"There's someone you need to find."
"Someone to find?"
"Jin Seol-hyang. Locate this woman as quickly as possible."
Sensing the urgency in his voice, Dan-ya made a circle with his bandages.
"Got it. Understood."
Turning his gaze, Chu Un-hwi muttered.
"The last part is the problem..."
Go Il-seo knew much, receiving direct orders from an apostle.
Among them, tales of other apostles.
— There's an apostle called Wind Guest.
They call him one of the Three Thousand Apostles.
"Wind Guest, why does he come up here?"
"Someone you know?"
"Sort of."
A figure he'd encountered multiple times in his previous life. But one point didn't make sense.
— Wind Guest brought a Blood Dew Stone from somewhere.
The Wind Guest from his past life was in the Heaven-Defying Society but showed no interest in human sacrifice or summoning the Demon God.
'He had no ambition to become cult leader either.'
A freak who wandered doing incomprehensible things, like watering liquor or liquoring water.
For such a one to move personally.
'I didn't think he'd be the type for human sacrifice to make a stone.'
Hearing this new info, he wondered if it was the same person.
"Eh, troublesome matters can wait."
For now, be satisfied with clearing all the annoyances.
"Time to return to my main job."
Back to.
Bronze Hall's delinquent instructor.
***
As he declared spiritedly.
Wang-woo spoke as if suddenly remembering.
"Speaking of which, a complicated matter has arisen."
"Complicated matter?"
"Yes."
Seeing Chu Un-hwi gradually slacking off, Wang-woo said.
"Something happened to the child under your care, my lord."
Huh?
"Something?"
"Yes, something."
He said.
"A fly has buzzed around."
***
Nangong Yun-ho, as always, had finished early morning training and was heading back with spring water.
For a while, Un Ho-seung's intrusion prevented proper training.
— Temporary instructor. Where are you?
Asking the sullen-faced reason, Un Ho-seung replied glumly.
— Thought I'd graduated from remedial class, but got caught in scandals.
Seo Ok-rang's matter resolved well, apparently, but Un Ho-seung didn't return.
Due to unavoidable confinement for a while.
Thus, enduring noisy voices all day, Nangong Yun-ho felt a bit tired.
"My ears are ringing."
But reconsidering, it was quite novel.
"Before, no one even approached me."
Life truly is unpredictable.
As he grumbled, retracing his stroll toward the Myo-jin Gate.
Suddenly sensing a presence ahead, Nangong Yun-ho stopped.
Swish.
Narrowing his eyes and gathering qi, he felt a presence hiding behind a tree.
'Strange. Someone waiting for me?'
He never harbored grudges, so foul play didn't cross his mind.
The presence's aura was unusually pure.
No hostility or killing intent detectable, very clean.
'No one should be seeking me.'
A hunch struck him, so with gourd at his side, Nangong Yun-ho called.
"Yong-ho?"
No one else would come looking.
And sure enough.
"Oh, long time no see. Bro...ther."
Seeing the awkward figure emerging from the tree, Nangong Yun-ho beamed.
"You look healthy. Been well?"
"Yeah. Me? Fine."
Even more pleasing was the softened voice replacing his old sharp tone.
"...Been well?"
The embarrassed expression and faltering speech matched his memory of his little brother from childhood, making Nangong Yun-ho grin widely.
"Haha. Of course I've been well."
Giving a warm greeting, Nangong Yun-ho approached and hugged Little Sword Dragon Nangong Yong-ho tightly.
It had been a long time since the brothers met.