Do You Truly Not Know?
I looked around in silence.
Judging by the dates recorded in the ledger, all of this had been going on for well over ten years.
And yet within the clan, only a single elder had known of it — which meant every last bit of it had been carried out in the deepest secrecy.
It baffled me.
They had gone to such extraordinary lengths, and still they couldn't manage to handle one poison? Their martial realm was stuck at the Grand Circulation Stage?
Did that make any sense at all?
True human sacrifice meant offering thousands upon tens of thousands of hearts. By any honest measure, this — all of this — was the real thing.
First I set down the chest, then picked up the book lying beside it. It was quite thick.
I read through it in silence.
The Iron-Blooded Demonic Emperor, Sima Jong-cheon.
This was his final record.
The murim had been dyed red with blood for over a month, he wrote — or so he claimed. An unforeseen existence was about to shatter his great undertaking, he raged. His ascension had been within arm's reach, and the one who had blocked it was Jeok Yu-gang of the Kunlun Sect, whom he cursed by name. To you, the reader who peruses these words, I shall grant my power — swear to me that you will destroy Kunlun, he demanded...
My Thunder Spirit Boundless Sword Art and Thunder Shock Meridian Art are the pinnacle of all arts; master them to their limits and carry on my legacy...
And so on, and so on.
At the very end was the sentence I had been searching for.
A hollow laugh burst out of me.
Kunlun? That sect had been dead for over three hundred years.
I didn't know much else, but the name Jeok Yu-gang I knew well. The Number One Under Heaven of four hundred years ago, and the last Sect Leader of Greater Kunlun. Then, at some point, he had vanished from the world entirely — and Greater Kunlun, already beset by no shortage of covetous eyes, slid into decline from that moment on and collapsed into ruin.
But the Heavenly Spirit Spiritual Root Pill?
Never heard of it in my life.
Had there ever been such an elixir among spiritual medicines? I had no idea.
I certainly had no intention of swallowing it on the spot. Who eats something without first knowing what it is?
Better to tuck it away for now and ask my Master about it later, when I had the time.
So into my robes it went.
Next I examined the secret manual. I read through it once from cover to cover, then returned to the beginning and read it again. Tracing the verses, I went over the whole thing again and again.
"Hoo..."
For the first time in a long while, an admiring exclamation escaped me.
This martial art.
To be honest, it was remarkable.
The Five Thunder Demon-Burning Sword Art Myo Man-li had given me was, strictly speaking, also an art that wielded lightning. Its core was cutting an enemy down in the blink of an eye — five bolts of lightning falling with every stroke of the blade. But the Thunder Spirit Boundless Sword Art I was reading now went beyond even that.
This one turned the person themselves into lightning.
An art that sought not merely the ultimate in speed, but transformation into a being of nature itself.
The Thunder Shock Meridian Art left alongside it was a cultivation method for housing the power of lightning within the body — the more one trained it, the more one's ordinary internal energy transformed into thunder force.
Gather the power of lightning. Unleash the art through the power of lightning.
Fascinating.
Myo Man-li had handed me three arts in total. The Five Thunder Demon-Burning Sword Art, the Lifeless Step recorded alongside it, and the Divine Shadow Return Meridian Art.
Of the three, the Divine Shadow Return Meridian Art wasn't worth learning. It was blindingly obvious that someone had tampered with it — practicing it would be the act of a fool.
The Lifeless Step fell far short of the Heavenly Thunder Divine Step.
But the Five Thunder Demon-Burning Sword Art — and now the Thunder Spirit Boundless Sword Art and Thunder Shock Meridian Art I had just gained.
These, I thought, could be fused together.
Crossing my legs where I sat, I reviewed all three arts in my mind. An art that carried thunder force in the blade. An art that brought down five bolts at a single stroke. An art through which the essence of lightning seeped into the dantian with every circulation, converting ordinary internal energy into thunder force.
The arts broke apart, then merged.
Not enough.
They broke apart again. A few verses fused. Still not to my liking. I broke them apart and merged them, broke them apart and merged them once more.
Time slipped by.
I slowly opened my eyes. Rising from my seat, I drew the sword hanging at my waist and swung it hard at the air before me.
BOOM, CRACKLE—!!
Thunder roared, and along the arc of the blade a road of pure lightning took shape. I swung sideways again — another BOOM, CRACKLE—!! — and a bolt of lightning lashed out and struck the wall. Watching the rock fragments clatter down, I sheathed the sword.
A sword stroke did not, strictly speaking, need exactly five variations.
Ten variations. Twenty. A hundred. Layer upon layer of change was the very essence of a sword art.
And yet —
The heart of any sword art was, in the end, the single stroke.
Weave in hundreds, thousands of variations, but if the central stroke itself was worthless, then all of it amounted to nothing more than juggling — a party trick fit for a festival or a sixtieth-birthday banquet.
I had made it now.
The ultimate in speed. A perfect single stroke that would let me become lightning itself and fall from above — an art that, with every swing, dragged back a measure of the expended thunder force from the empty air and refilled the body with it.
Crude for the moment, but once I reached the Heavenly Realm, its true power would come forth.
This art, forged by fusing three into one...
I pondered for a moment. What name would suit it?
What was I, here and now? Nothing more than an endlessly, hopelessly weak martial artist.
But I wanted to surmount the heavens. My past life had ended at the Realm of Harmony — and I had to go beyond it.
Heaven-Transcending Thunder Sword Art
Three arts become one — the blade that becomes lightning itself.
A fine martial art had come into my hands.
I set to work without delay. I burned every corpse, and burned every heart as well. The altar-like structure at the front I smashed to pieces, and the pedestal along with it.
If this place were ever revealed to someone someday and so much as a trace remained, the Yi Clan would become the enemy of the entire murim. Such things were better prevented before they could happen.
The thousands of hearts left in that well-like pit — I burned every last one.
A considerable amount of my pure internal energy was consumed in the process, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Once everything was cleaned up without a speck left behind, I left the hidden grotto. From now on, this place would serve as my retreat for secluded training.
I had gained an excellent training ground.
So I made my way out. Shifted the bed stand to conceal the grotto's entrance, then opened the door and stepped out.
Yeom Gil-seong, who had been waiting outside, scurried over at once.
"Young Master!"
"What is it?"
"...The Clan Head is asking for you right now."
"Me?"
"Yes. He's at your residence at this very moment... Young Master."
Yeom Gil-seong's expression was grave. I waited for him to go on, and he spoke quickly.
"I... I secretly overheard what was being said at the Clan Head's hall earlier."
"Oh?"
"Yes... I know I shouldn't have. But the head of the Wun Clan, and Lady Un — they're planning to..."
"To what?"
"Ah... forgive me. I never learned proper words, so the right one won't come... It's a little disgraceful to even say this, but... I believe they intend to sell you off."
A faint smile crossed my lips.
"Sell me?"
"Yes. They say someone high-ranking from the Imperial Sword Sect is certain to come, and only by selling you to that person can the Yi Clan be spared... I'm sorry."
"Sorry? For what?"
"I know how much you value the clan's discipline, but... honestly, I've served you for over six years now. Do you not remember? It was you who recommended me — a mere errand runner — into the Yi Clan's service."
Put so earnestly, face bared and all — no, I didn't remember.
"I wanted to repay that debt somehow. You'll rise to heights the likes of me wouldn't dare reach for, but if my words helped you along that road, then I'd be content to take my punishment right here and now."
It was unexpected.
So I had done something like that in the past.
No wonder. I had thought it odd how excessively obedient this servant always was. So that was the reason.
I clapped the fellow on the shoulder.
"Don't worry yourself. As you well know, there are few in the Yi Clan I trust. And since the subject has come up — I don't trust you either. I simply judge."
The fellow went stiff for a moment; I gave him a small smile.
"Well done. Though it seems I have quite a history with errand runners. Six years in service? Then it's about time you moved up."
"Do you mean..."
"Yes. From now on, you will become the Chief Steward. I hear there are several trading ventures bound for Suju Prefecture — I'll place you in them. See two or three through, then take charge of one yourself. Understood?"
A martial house must, above all, keep its rewards and punishments clear. My apologies to Yi Won, but a household needed at least one or two people its master could trust with his ears.
Thump — the fellow dropped to his knees.
Thanking me, vowing never to forget this grace for as long as he lived — I clapped his shoulder once more and headed for my quarters.
The moment I stepped into my quarters, I found Yi Won pacing about, restless as a cat on hot bricks.
"Brother."
"Ah, yes, there you are. Where on earth have you been, coming back only now?"
"I was training."
"Ah... training? Right, well. Can't be helped then."
I gazed at Yi Won in silence.
His reaction was truly something to behold. Like watching a puppy that desperately needed to relieve itself, I supposed.
He came closer and spoke in a low voice.
"Have you heard the news?"
"What news would that be?"
"...They say the Golden Heaven Divine Sword is on his way to Jangryeong Commandery as we speak."
My brow twitched.
The Golden Heaven Divine Sword. One of the elders of the Imperial Sword Sect — a great hero of the murim, a man of upright character.
And the master of Jang Un-yeon, the young clan head of the Jang Clan.
"And Mother and Uncle are thinking of selling you to him. What in the world am I supposed to do?"
He passed.
Honestly, I had been harboring a few doubts. I already knew full well how weak-willed Yi Won was, and I had wondered whether he might be sweet-talked by Wun Mu-jeong and Lady Un of the Wun Clan into selling me off.
But no. My dear second brother had hidden nothing from me.
How could I not give him a passing grade?
Though at the moment, he seemed utterly incapable of controlling his own emotions. Terror, dread — pick any word you liked and it would fit.
"Brother. Who is coming doesn't matter."
"...But it's the Imperial Sword Sect. Not just anyone — one of the Eight Great Sects..."
"Do you still not understand what it means to join hands with me?"
"That's... no."
"Whether the Imperial Sword Sect comes, or every one of the Eight Great Sects comes down on us at once — it changes nothing about our situation. Brother."
"...Right. Then speak."
"One way or another, you must see this through to the very end with me. Even if the road leads straight to hell, you walk it. I'll grant that you left the method of resolving this matter to your own judgment — but you should at least have kept your mother and uncle in check."
"Mm..."
"Do you truly believe the Yi Clan will be safe if you sell me to the Imperial Sword Sect?"
"..."
"You know far too little about the Imperial Sword Sect. They will never leave the Yi Clan be. Either the Imperial Sword Sect is destroyed, or the Yi Clan is destroyed. One or the other."
Yi Won's face went ashen.
"And from here on, the Imperial Sword Sect will have no strength to spare for the affairs of Jangryeong."
"What nonsense is that?"
In ten years, the Great Righteous-Demon War would erupt.
Wars never break out all at once. Little by little, the demons that had hidden in the shadows begin to show themselves. Trouble erupts here and there across the murim, debts of gratitude and grudge pile up and pile up —
And then, at the ten-year mark, it bursts.
By then, not only the Eight Great Sects but the Five Great Schools and every power of note in the murim would be baring blades at one another's throats.
They called it the Righteous-Demon War, but in truth it was nothing less than a complete changing of the murim's guard.
This era brimmed with masters at the Realm of Harmony, the Realm of Entering Divinity — even the Realm of Myth. But when the war ended, more than half of those countless masters would be dead.
The gestation of the demons had already begun. The Imperial Sword Sect? So long as the matter of the Golden Heaven Divine Sword was handled properly, everything afterward could be dealt with. Of that, there was no doubt.
"Something like that."
I had no particular wish to explain all of this to Yi Won. It would only wear out my mouth.
"Mm... hoo..."
Watching him make strange noises, I clicked my tongue.
"...It's just... those two are so terribly stubborn."
"Stubborn? Looked at another way, that means they hold your authority in contempt."
Yi Won's eyes flew wide open.
"Mother, uncle — in the end they are all members of the Yi Clan. And who is the master of the Yi Clan? You, brother. Right now, they are defying your authority. Insolently, no less."
"...Mm..."
"Who do they owe their wealth and comfort to? Their judgment doesn't even seem settled on that question — and it is precisely now that you must bend them under your hand and raise the authority of the Clan Head. How can you let yourself be toyed with by the nonsense of your own underlings?"
"...But those two are my—"
I reached out and seized Yi Won's shoulder.
"I will deal with the Imperial Sword Sect myself. So make those two shut their mouths."
"...But—"
His words never finished.
Crunch.
My grip tightened. Yi Won's face crumpled in pain; I paid it no mind and went on.
"Brother. If you fail to persuade your mother and uncle — and those two, frightened out of their wits and grasping only at their own survival, end up selling me to the Imperial Sword Sect—"
A soft smile spread across my lips.