Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Chapter 12: The Beginning of Change (4)
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Slash!
A simple horizontal cut sliced through the illusion.
Screech!
A straightforward thrust deflected the sword hidden by the formation.
"How is none of it working?"
Nangong Yun-ho was like an impenetrable fortress.
This ignited Jegal Tan's competitive spirit.
"If illusions won't fool you, then I'll layer illusions beneath illusions."
He went beyond simple illusions, concealing illusions within illusions.
Overlapping them.
"Can't push me back? Let's see if you can withstand this!"
Instead of scattering sword qi remnants to activate a formation, he hurled them directly at his opponent.
He began targeting not just the sword, but his opponent's five senses and qi perception.
It was truly astonishing.
Not only the novel shift in approach, but conjuring a formation in an instant would shock even seasoned formation masters.
Jegal Tan had grown remarkably fast.
Clang!
Even that was deflected.
'An iron wall...?'
He let out a disbelieving chuckle.
Now, Nangong Yun-ho's eyes weren't even focused on him.
His vacant pupils chased something drifting in the void.
'A selfless trance.'
Forgetfulness of self.
Seeking another self.
How could he not recognize this pursuit of what some call enlightenment?
"What a ridiculous guy..."
The selfless trance, the flow state—experiences never once granted even to him, the prodigy of the Jegal family.
Yet despite his exasperation, Jegal Tan felt a tickle in his gut.
A booming laugh rose from his belly to his throat.
Clang! Clang!
Still, Jegal Tan didn't let up on his sword.
Whoosh.
His internal energy depleted, he could no longer manifest illusionary swords, but he kept swinging.
'A selfless trance is a huge opportunity for any warrior. I can't let it end like this.'
For his friend's growth.
To keep him immersed just a little longer, Jegal Tan squeezed out every last strand of energy.
Throb.
Overexertion beyond his limits made his dantian ache.
"Cough."
A metallic tang of blood suggested internal injuries.
'Just a bit more.'
But Jegal Tan persisted to the end.
'Hold on until the very last moment!'
Even without energy to leave sword qi remnants, it didn't matter.
He relentlessly assaulted the gaps in that stubborn, honest, rigid sword.
Strange sensation.
His body felt light as if floating, yet the instructor's voice echoed from the void.
- Brat. Three forms are already too much for you.
Am I lacking?
- Yeah.
The arrogantly curt voice continued.
- But it's not bad.
His chest swelled with emotion.
As the floating euphoria peaked, the words flowed on.
- Long ago, someone dominated the world with three sword arts.
- And another conquered it mastering hundreds of supreme techniques.
But you know what?
- In the end, both left behind swordsmanship of just three forms.
Why was that?
A song drifted from the illusion.
- Ten thousand intents bloom between heaven and earth.
- All ten thousand laws converge into one.
- And where does that unified intent flow?
A shadow in the illusion performed a familiar form.
Single Stroke Vertical Slash.
A straight frontal cut.
'No, is it really Single Stroke Vertical Slash?'
A slash? A thrust?
It seemed like a slash, then pierced the air.
Seemed like a thrust, then swept the void.
Unfathomable.
He executed Single Stroke Vertical Slash, then Wind Scattering Horizontal Sweep; seemed like Clear Wind Moon Slash, but it was Single Stroke Vertical Slash again.
From the unfolding illusions, realization dawned.
'The forms are endlessly transforming.'
Not executed and withdrawn.
The sword was constantly changing throughout its motion.
Come to think of it, the instructor had said as much when correcting him.
"It's the limit of number games. Even a single form varies infinitely based on wrist twists and speed control."
One sword, myriad variations.
"If you're fixated on unchanging forms and immersed only in number games, you'll never experience the world of variations."
Advance to the world of variations if you seek to progress.
It was just as he said.
The insights gained facing Jegal Tan's illusions were solidifying.
Vagueness faded, replaced by conviction born of enlightenment.
Suddenly, the shadow in the illusion halted.
- That's it.
Why?
Regrettable.
Want to see more.
But the instructor declared.
- For now, that's all.
Is that so?
Then.
'This is where I end up.'
For now.
But I won't stop here.
Nangong Yun-ho's mind rapidly settled.
Jegal Tan's hackles rose.
Veins had suddenly bulged across Nangong Yun-ho's face, lost in his trance.
"Qi deviation!"
How could Nangong Yun-ho, who hadn't even learned a cultivation method, fall into qi deviation?
But before doubt could form, his body moved.
"Baek Ri-seol! Hurry!"
Whoosh.
Baek Ri-seol, sensing the anomaly, had already flanked Nangong Yun-ho from behind.
Screeech!
Her scabbard dropped toward his nape.
Aim to knock him out first.
Thud!
"Tch!"
Baek Ri-seol's form spun in midair, her twin swords blocking the lightning-fast strike.
The unexpected power made her wrists ache.
"Even if I have to push it."
Twisting in a midair flip to land, cold resolve gleamed in Baek Ri-seol's eyes.
"I'll put you down!"
That was when.
"Kids these days got too much energy, huh?"
A leisurely voice preceded a gust of fierce wind.
It blew away Nangong Yun-ho, who had stood like an iron wall moments before.
Crash!
"Wha... what?"
Blinking in shock, Jegal Tan saw a figure beside the crumpled Nangong Yun-ho.
Baek Ri-seol brightened.
"Instructor!"
"Brats. Don't you sleep?"
The instructor, bangs dangling frustratingly, spoke with annoyance—but never had he seemed so welcome.
"Instructor! Nangong just fell into qi deviation!"
The instructor, appearing like a ghost, gaped exaggeratedly.
"Reeeally now?"
"So please take him to the infirmary..."
"Lemme see."
Prod.
He flipped the sprawled Nangong Yun-ho with his toe, then tilted his head.
"Let's check..."
Thud thud.
A few kicks to the side made the unconscious Nangong twitch.
"Hm. Seems fine?"
Just twitching?
Now he planted a foot on his stomach and stomped.
Crack. Crack.
This wasn't treating a patient—it was manufacturing one in real time.
"Uh—instructor?"
"Trust me. He's good. No problem."
With an utterly carefree smile, the instructor climbed onto his belly and slapped both cheeks.
Smack smack.
"Um... instructor."
"Huh? What? Why?"
"Are... are we witnessing Nangong's murder scene?"
"People don't die that easy."
They die easy when they do.
Adding the grim quip, the instructor kept slapping.
Smack. Smack.
This time Baek Ri-seol pointed it out.
"Nangong's nose is bleeding."
"Huh? For real."
"It's a double nosebleed."
"Just plug it. Plug it."
Pinch the nose, and black blood trickled from his mouth.
Apparently, blocking the nose forced it down his throat.
Pretending surprise, he flipped Nangong and mounted his back, yanking his neck with a crack.
"See? He's fine, right?"
In his stupor, with his back arched, mouth and nose blocked, Nangong looked anything but fine—not even as a joke.
He could stop breathing any second.
Death by contusions, clearly.
Moyong So-hye, unwittingly witnessing the pre-murder scene, pointed out.
"Um... won't blocking his nose and mouth stop him from breathing?"
At her remark, Chu Un-hwi puffed out his cheeks.
"He's fine. Look, he's smiling."
Drip drip.
Black blood streamed from nose and mouth.
A horrific sight unfit even for nightmares.
"I-Instructor! What are you doing?!"
"Oh right. You're here too."
Jegal Tan, fuming, felt chills as the instructor approached with a bright smile, cracking his knuckles.
Not just imagination.
Crack. Crack.
He was cracking them while eyeing him.
"Um... instructor?"
His voice lost all strength.
No edge left from moments ago.
Like a rabbit before a lion.
But Jegal Tan steeled himself.
"That treatment defies all common sense. If you don't take Yun-ho to the infirmary right—"
"Our Jegal's in a mess too."
"Pardon? I don't understaaand—"
Thwack.
A fist slammed into his side.
"Guh... guuuuh..."
His mouth gaped.
No scream.
Just flashing vision and ringing ears.
"Why can't a smartass like you get it?"
"Guhk... guhk..."
Wait. Just wait.
His mind wouldn't turn like usual.
Fancy words vanished; only simple thoughts surfaced.
'Please, just a moment.'
'There must be a reason, right?'
'Violence. Stop.'
Curled like a shrimp, gasping, Jegal Tan raised his palm.
But what returned was.
Thwack!
A fist to the other side. Pain beyond recovery; vision blacking out.
"Gack... guhheuk."
"Our Jegal's a mess, but don't worry. Trust your instructor."
No, wait. Hold on.
'Jegal's a mess, mess is Jegal.'
Thwack!
Thoughts shattered.
'Impossible.'
No enduring these fists. Felt like getting pummeled by a bear—no, a mythical beast.
If such existed.
Yet oddly.
The struck spots dispersed clumped energy, calming his raging internal power.
"Uh... ah..."
'What the hell is this?'
Folded and gasping, the instructor's voice came.
"You smart ones get it, right? Purging blocked meridians. Purging blocked meridians."
Purging Blocked Meridians.
A supreme art where a qi master injects energy to dissolve stagnated blood and qi.
Requires profound internal energy, perfect knowledge of bones and muscles, and precise command of 360 acupoints.
Shocking that this monstrous instructor could do it, but Jegal Tan was stunned for another reason.
Crack.
'No way there's a scalp-grab purging blocked meridians.'
Grabbing his hair and yanking his head back, the instructor grinned.
"Purge."
Thwack.
Head snapped right.
"Block."
Thwack.
Head snapped left.
"Mer."
Crack.
"This... isn't purging blocked meridians... it's headbutts."
"idians."
Thud. Thud.
A shin kick sent Jegal Tan tumbling backward.
"Take it easy now."
"Why train till midnight, bothering people?"
"If you're gonna enlighten, do it quick during class hours."
'Like that's controllable...'
Isn't it?
He wanted to retort, but the kicks kept him silent.
But fine.
Jegal Tan gave up thinking.
'It's okay. Can't be helped.'
Shouldn't one learn to surrender to the unbearable?
He gained only a strange enlightenment amid the pain.
Felt like shaving his head would lead to instant nirvana.
'Whatever now.'
Jegal Tan's consciousness faded.
Bubble bubble.
A medicinal aroma tickled his nose, and Nangong Yun-ho opened his eyes.
'Clearly I...'
Adjusting his blurry vision to the unfamiliar ceiling.
"Awake?"
Jegal Tan's voice came from beside him.
"Urk!"
Sitting up, his joints ached. Oddly, his body felt light.
"Tan?"
Turning gladly, he spotted something strange.
His friend sat glumly against the wall, rubbing eggs vigorously over his eyes.
"Tan, what happened to you?"
"...Who do you think?"
"The instructor, huh."
Nangong Yun-ho sighed at the bruised eyes and pouting lips rolling the egg.
Not the Jegal family delinquent or tragic genius.
Gone was the neat, subtly cynical, condescending air—replaced by a friend huffing sadly at raw eggs.
'Reminds me of our childhood.'
Spotting the smile, Jegal Tan grumbled.
"Mine's bad, but you think you're better?"
"Hahaha. Hahahaha."
"Damn. Urgh."
Rubbing too hard, Jegal Tan groaned and asked.
"You. Body okay?"
"Yeah. Light."
"For real. Hey, Nangong Yun-ho."
"Yeah?"
"That instructor knows purging blocked meridians too."
Obviously shady, but effective—hard to disbelieve.
Jegal Tan griped.
"Weird guy, right?"
"Who? Instructor?"
"Who else?"
"Yeah."
Siiiip.
Beyond their hazy, drug-fueled chatter, the decoction pot bubbled.
Everyday life, ten days before midterms.