Chapter 395
Chapter 395
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 104
>Chapter Title: Crossroads (2)
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"Yes, exactly. That's why I have no intention of giving you time to think it over."
A low voice reverberated in his ear.
Startled by it, Mo Yak—one of Eldest Young Master Na Yul-ryang's trusted retainers—launched his body forward without a moment's hesitation.
*Whoosh!*
At the same instant, he drew a pair of daggers from his sleeves and flipped through the air, hurling them straight at the source of the voice.
*Shwick! Shwick!*
Was it because he was so intensely focused?
Time itself seemed to slow to a crawl.
Even mid-somersault, the face of that figure came into sharp focus.
An exquisitely beautiful face.
Beautiful enough to rival any woman's.
Yet the figure merely tilted its head slightly at the incoming daggers.
Was it not planning to block them?
That was the moment.
*Crack!*
The daggers suddenly veered off course in midair, embedding themselves squarely into the shoulder and thigh of Mo Yak as he flipped.
*Thud! Thud!*
"Argh!"
*Crash!*
Mo Yak, struck by his own thrown daggers, couldn't even land properly before tumbling to the ground.
"Th-this!"
Seeing this, Hyeong-in of the Silent Sword immediately beside him hastily drew an incredibly thin, flexible sword from his waist, aiming to decapitate the suddenly appeared figure—Mok Kyung-un.
But before it could even connect,
*Clang!*
The sword snapped and flew upward,
*Thwack!*
"Guh!"
And Hyeong-in's throat, mid-swing, was seized by Mok Kyung-un's hand.
It had all happened in the blink of an eye; Hyeong-in hadn't even registered how.
Dumbfounded,
"You're that rat we caught snooping earlier."
"G-gack... Y-you... you?"
"If you're done here, you should go."
"G-go? Go where?"
*Crunch!*
Mok Kyung-un ripped out Hyeong-in's windpipe as he stammered in disbelief.
Blood gushed from the torn throat as Hyeong-in staggered, eyes bulging wide, before collapsing backward in a spread-eagled position.
Even as he twitched and blood bubbled up, he looked pitiful.
Despite two men falling in an instant, Eldest Young Master Na Yul-ryang's gaze never left Mok Kyung-un.
He glanced upward with his eyes, then spoke.
"Did you fly here?"
"Yes, you guessed right."
"......"
Fly here?
Did that mean he'd executed something like Soaring Void Path or Void Treading Step?
Even he, who had mastered the peerless lightness skill Moonlit Water Stride and prided himself on his footwork above all others, hadn't reached that realm yet.
He entertained a sliver of denial in his mind, but ultimately,
'......He's surpassed the wall of walls.'
If they clashed purely on martial prowess, there was zero chance of victory.
And the man's aura had changed.
Before, he'd sensed emotions so diluted it reminded him of his own type—someone he'd deemed must die if he wouldn't submit.
Yet there had been an immaturity to it then, now utterly gone.
Rough and unrefined before, now he emanated the perfected sharpness of a keenly honed blade.
'He's grown stronger......'
Na Yul-ryang's pupils shifted subtly, ceaselessly.
He knew Mok Kyung-un had become overwhelmingly powerful, but in this standoff, he was mentally simulating countless scenarios of their duel.
Yet even dozens, hundreds of mental replays in a flash yielded no answers.
The man had become a complete monster.
*Drip.*
Feeling the alien sensation on his forehead, Na Yul-ryang wiped it away with the back of his hand.
It was cold sweat.
Seeing it, a glint entered Na Yul-ryang's eyes.
Outside of training sweat, had he ever broken out in such perspiration?
This was the first time in his life he'd felt tension toward something.
'Life...... and death...... Am I standing at that crossroads?'
Crossroads.
What an amusing one.
A crossroads paved solely in death, with the path to life scarcely visible.
To him, Mok Kyung-un said,
"I wanted to see you show more emotion, but being the rational sort, reality must have sunk in quickly."
"No point denying it when victory's out of sight."
"I'll give you a choice."
"A choice?"
"Yes."
"Trying pointless hope torture, are you?"
"Think of it as a chance to savor life a bit more."
"And what is this choice?"
"If you sever your limb meridians and shatter your dantian yourself, I'll spare your life."
"For a martial artist, isn't that the same as telling me to die?"
"If dying as a martial artist equates to the same as mere survival for you, then die like this."
"Hmph."
Na Yul-ryang scoffed.
Mok Kyung-un shrugged at his reaction.
Then Na Yul-ryang reached out toward something.
The sword sheath beside the table flew into his hand via telekinetic pull.
*Thud!*
Gripping it, Na Yul-ryang spoke.
"I'm not one to beg for life or drag it out pathetically. But if I'm going, departing as a martial artist isn't so bad."
"Admirable."
"Spare me the empty flattery. The world beyond the martial forest is the law of the jungle—weak meat to strong. The weak get culled; that's natural order. This time, it's just me."
He said this, but it was a bitterly amusing moment.
He'd reached near Eight Star power, yet thanks to this man's growth, he'd become the weak one. Laughable.
Gripping the sword hilt tightly in his right hand, Na Yul-ryang moved to remove his eyepatch.
Even in a hopeless fight, he had to struggle.
Mok Kyung-un reached for his sword manual as well.
That was the moment.
"Time Stop Shadow."
*Tsss!*
The world darkened for a blink, as if he'd merely blinked.
Mok Kyung-un's eyes narrowed.
'!?'
Just moments ago, Eldest Young Master Na Yul-ryang had vanished from before his eyes.
What in the world?
It had happened so instantaneously, it baffled him.
No shift in presence, no flow of energy—and yet he'd disappeared right in front of him...
*Rumble!*
Countless presences now surged in around him.
A great many.
They'd appeared just as abruptly.
An eerie phenomenon.
Mok Kyung-un slowly raised his head, gazing at someone perched on the pavilion gazebo in the rear garden.
"Was that your doing?"
"Hoh. Impressive. I figured even someone as strong as you would be rattled in this situation, yet you stay cool-headed. Truly remarkable."
The one seated at a distance in the gazebo was Yul Myeong, envoy of the Elder Hall.
Seeing Yul Myeong's face scarred with horrific burns, Mok Kyung-un immediately recognized him as the one who'd tried tracking him with sorcery.
How had Na Yul-ryang vanished so suddenly, and how was this man here?
The reason was,
*Shrrk!*
The power of his Three Eyes activated in Mok Kyung-un's pupils.
An immense, immeasurable energy pulsed around him.
It had shaken the very space itself; the surrounding flows still unstable.
Examining it, Mok Kyung-un spoke.
"What sorcery is this?"
At the question, Yul Myeong's brow twitched.
He'd suspected as much.
But to read the lingering energy waves?
"The clan records left by Original Death Valley Leader In Seo-ok mentioned that Bangwol Jo Uigong took him as a disciple for his exceptional talent. It seems it was true."
Ignoring the words, Mok Kyung-un continued.
"No sorcerer, no matter how skilled, could wield this much energy on their own. Are you borrowing power from a ritual tool or special medium?"
"Hah?"
"Must be right. You only paused me briefly, didn't you?"
'!?'
Yul Myeong's mouth fell slightly open at the question.
He seemed genuinely shocked.
His brow twitching as his mouth hung, Yul Myeong finally said,
"......What the hell are you? How did you......"
"There's blood on the floor trailing toward the outer perimeter. He clearly collapsed and didn't move, yet he left that trace over there and vanished. Isn't that odd?"
'Blood?'
Where Mok Kyung-un looked, faint droplets of blood remained.
Most traces had been erased, but this one overlooked.
If Yul Myeong's eyes worked, he'd be stunned.
It was that hard to spot.
"And so many approaching this close without sensing a single presence? That only works if I was isolated somewhere, suddenly dropped here... Ah. You must've separated me with some special sorcery. Not just space—did you sever me from the flow of time itself?"
'!!!!!'
Yul Myeong was utterly dumbfounded by the question.
Chills ran through his entire body.
He could sense energy from sorcery training, but this insight was terrifying.
From scant clues, he'd deduced the divine artifact Time Stop Shadow.
Time Stop Shadow was one of the few immortal relics from the Three Emperors and Five Sovereigns era, a treasure that accumulated energy naturally.
But its conditions were harsh compared to others.
Use it once, and it drained all energy, requiring replenishment; only a thousandth of stored power activated.
A thousand years' accumulation could isolate a target from spacetime for a full year at that thousandth rate.
Absolute as a divine artifact, inescapable by any being.
'......What is this guy?'
Even with sorcery knowledge and sharp insight, deducing it instantly defied common sense.
Yet in a flash, he'd pinpointed exactly what the artifact did.
'A monstrous bastard.'
Yul Myeong, Elder Hall envoy, was truly impressed.
He'd used artifacts as needed, so limited energy trapped him only half a gak—but the brevity should've made it harder to grasp, yet here he was.
Amid shock, Yul Myeong felt regret.
Discovering such talent now.
Heard he wasn't even thirty; surpassing the wall of walls in martial arts and such sorcery aptitude—anyone would covet him.
With faint hope, Yul Myeong spoke.
"You're truly sharp. Among all I've seen, none as clever as you."
"If that's praise, then thanks."
"So, what I mean is......"
"Recruitment? I'll pass. More importantly, where did you send the Eldest Young Master?"
"......"
Rejected before he could even propose.
No high hopes anyway, but so resolute.
Recruitment seemed impossible.
Shaking his head, Yul Myeong spoke.
"You think I'll just tell you?"
Mok Kyung-un smirked.
"Who knows? If your life's on the line, you might spill where the Eldest Young Master went."
*Hummm!*
Mok Kyung-un deliberately unleashed killing intent.
A blatant threat.
Yet Yul Myeong jested nonchalantly.
"Scary stuff. But that's tough. The Eldest Young Master is far too vital to us."
"Is that so? Guess I'll have to find him myself."
The blood trace meant brief confinement.
Plenty of room to track.
No need to fight the surrounding encirclement; handling this one would suffice.
Mid-thought,
*Thud!*
Someone appeared atop the eastern wall.
A sharp-featured white-haired elder, gripping a familiar face by the nape.
It was,
'Mok Yu-cheon?'
Mok Yu-cheon, his half-brother from Timber Sword Manor, taken hostage alongside him.
Precisely, the real Mok Kyung-un's half-brother.
His face bore wound marks, forcibly captured.
*Clap clap clap!*
Yul Myeong clapped, lips curling.
"Right on time."
The white-haired elder snorted, pressing Mok Yu-cheon's throat.
"To fetch this punk in half a gak? What a hassle for this old bag of bones."
"Grateful regardless. Anyway......"
*Shff! Thud!*
Yul Myeong descended from the gazebo perch, sneering at Mok Kyung-un.
"Now the tables have turned. With that clever head of yours, guess what I'll say next......"
"Just kill him."
'!?'