Chapter 147
Chapter 147
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: S3. Lessons from History -4
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Envers, the hooked-nose wanderer who had fallen into this other world, had received prior instruction from a beggar. Yet for someone who had only encountered the world through knowledge, gaps in understanding were inevitable.
Especially if the source of that knowledge was a master active thirty years ago. There was naturally no way he could know about the trendy MZ culture that had swept through the martial world.
"Daoist Qinghui, nowadays it's more fashionable to tie a red thread to the hilt than to engrave characters on the blade. The street kids even tie red threads to sticks and play soldier games—"
"Daoist Qinghui, your face looks so young, even younger than me, but how do you know so little? As expected of a hooked-nose from the West..."
"Sis! No matter how long Daoist Qinghui's nose is, teasing him like that isn't nice!"
On top of that, with two immature kids chattering away, Envers was being mercilessly teased from both sides.
In a way, it was a good thing. He could build rapport with the Nangong family's heirs while learning common sense at the same time.
And there was reason to stay with the Nangong Clan.
"I asked Father. When I told him Daoist Qinghui saved my life, he was overjoyed and promised to award you at the banquet."
"The banquet... I believe it's in two days. Is that right?"
"Yes, Daoist Qinghui. By then, we'll have sparred three times over!"
Reward for saving a life.
Beyond Nangong Myeong's personal gratitude, the patriarch leading the great Nangong Clan had personally vowed to bestow a reward. Wasn't it worth looking forward to?
So he hung out with the Nangong siblings, chatting away. He could learn about the martial world, and it was quite enjoyable spending time with such lively kids.
Come to think of it... he also needed to fulfill the beggar's request, and now was the perfect time to ask. Envers suddenly inquired.
"I have a question. Do you know about the Heavenly Demon?"
"......"
Nangong Myeong and Nangong Seung-ah's faces paled slightly.
"...Did I ask something I shouldn't have?"
"No, Daoist Qinghui. It's just... the elders at home scared us with it so much. From childhood, they said, 'If you do bad things, the wicked Heavenly Demon will come grab you...'"
"That old monster died thirty years ago—how could it come grab us? It's all lies adults made up to frighten us. We're past the age to be scared of that!"
Having heard ghost stories since childhood, just the name Heavenly Demon sent shivers down their spines. Envers let out a hearty laugh and said.
"Our family had a similar tale. 'If you don't hide your brilliance, a dragon will come and snatch you to its lair.' So my brother and I deliberately left pretty pebbles on the windowsill."
Better to be taken by a dragon than raised in that bastard's house enduring such training.
"Aren't dragons sacred spirit beasts?"
"They're different from the dragons of the East. And... I don't know the details. It's just a name from fairy tales or bards' nonsense."
"The Heavenly Demon is similar. Records confirm it existed, of course... but it's a painful memory for everyone, so it's rarely mentioned."
"Fortunately, our main house escaped the bloodshed thirty years ago... but you know, Daoist Qinghui? Those who avoided disaster must guard their tongues even more."
The Righteous-Demonic War thirty years ago.
Countless warriors met their end at the Demonic Cult's hands, and the final battle with the Heavenly Demon left the entire righteous faction reeling. Some sects were wiped out entirely, others merely survived without truly living.
Afterward, sects that preserved their full strength—untouched by the Heavenly Demon's wave—rose to prominence. The Nangong Clan was among them.
Before the war, the young patriarch Nangong Chaegong had sealed the clan for closed-door training. The reason was to deeply study the ancestral 'Heaven-Severing Sword.'
"They sealed the entire clan just to train in martial arts?"
"It sounds extreme... but there were circumstances."
The previous patriarch, Nangong Sohyeol, on his deathbed passed the leadership to young Nangong Chaegong, advising him not to aim for the heavens but to focus on managing the clan.
For whatever reason, Nangong Sohyeol died without revealing the secret chamber's location marked by the ancestor's sword scars. Feeling insulted, Nangong Chaegong fell into demonic obsession.
'Is my talent truly so lacking? No, I cannot accept that! I'll find the secret chamber and recreate the ancestor's sword with my own hands!'
Nangong Chaegong was famed in his youth as a sword maniac who knew nothing but the blade. Nearly mad with fervor, he sealed the entire clan and ordered a search for the chamber.
Though tyrannical, the clan members eventually agreed, believing that if he attained the Heaven-Severing Sword, the Nangong Clan would flourish. Absolute masters were that vital in the martial world.
They stockpiled ample food, locked the gates, and immersed themselves in training and searching. By sheer luck, they escaped the flames.
When they emerged, half the martial world lay in ashes, and the unscathed Nangong Clan unexpectedly became the martial world's foremost sword family.
From the perspective of sects that lost masters and disciples alike, the Nangong Clan—crouched away like cowards—could only seem infuriating.
Reaping sweet fruit without shedding blood!
Thus, the Nangong Clan still faced suspicious glares and disadvantages even after thirty years. Exchanges with other sects ceased, and the Martial Alliance covertly shunned them as cowards.
That was why Nangong retainers still minded public opinion. It wouldn't be strange if resentment from the Heavenly Demon's era turned their way.
"What of the secret chamber? They never found it?"
"Ah, the chamber."
He'd heard Nangong Chaegong eventually found it. But he failed to master the Heaven-Severing Sword, and afterward, his personality changed.
Whatever he saw there made him heed his father's dying words: focus on managing the clan. His fiery temper mellowed into calm.
Yet he told his own children the same: don't aim for the heavens; walk the human path.
"Even if we beg cutely, he shakes his head at mentions of the chamber. We've given up long ago, figuring he has his reasons..."
It was peculiar.
Envers found the tale intriguing and casually asked.
"...Then, what of the Beggar Clan?"
"The Beggar Clan, you mean the beggars' sect? It's not well-known, so it's hard to hear about, but Daoist Qinghui from the West knows of it—how surprising!"
"I have business with them. A friend's request to deliver something... But what do you mean it's not well-known?"
The beggar from the Tower of Trials had said Beggar Clan disciples were everywhere and knew all. A top information network in the Central Plains—yet why claim it's obscure?
"Well..."
As Nangong Myeong hesitated, gauging Envers's expression, Nangong Seung-ah bluntly spoke the truth.
"They completely collapsed."
"...Sis!"
"Why not call a flop a flop?"
"Still, say it more tactfully..."
As Nangong Myeong floundered to smooth things over, Seung-ah continued without pause. The Beggar Clan had become a nameless shell in the current martial world.
"After the previous Beggar Clan Chief Gu Seung-gae vanished in the Righteous-Demonic War, the clan's signature full-body staff technique was lost. Martial arts are like roots—without them, the plant withers."
"...So the Beggar Clan was absorbed under the new power Hao Gate, Daoist. It became a Hao Gate branch."
"......"
Were martial arts truly that weighty? Just forgetting a few moves could shrink a mighty faction so drastically?
To Envers, raised only with brainwashing from his family, the idea of passing down legacies was hard to grasp.
But hearing his master's sect had fallen left a bitter taste.
Scraping by under another faction...
"...Could I meet them, by chance?"
"You mean the Hao Gate Beggar branch?"
"Yes."
Nangong Seung-ah pondered, then her eyes sparkled.
"Hmm... not alone! Daoist Qinghui, what if you get lost in vast Anhu Province? Right, Myeong-ah?"
"Huh? Sis, even Daoist Qinghui can find his way..."
"So we'll go together! We can't let a guest of the main house wander off."
"...Ah, aha! Sis is right! Daoist Qinghui, we'll be a huge help! We know the area, are friendly with locals, and can prevent mishaps! Of course, we'll turn a blind eye to anything we shouldn't see!"
Sparkle, sparkle.
Nangong Myeong and Seung-ah's eyes shone eagerly. They were dying to go out. Seung-ah openly signaled 'take me along,' while Myeong hesitated, wondering if it was rude.
They had a point. Searching vast Anhu City for Hao Gate—and Beggar Clan within—would be tough without locals.
One issue, though.
"Can you really go with me?"
"......"
"......"
"...I'll ask Uncle. Be right back, Daoist!"
"Me too! I'll get permission quick, so don't run off!"
Clatter clatter.
The Nangong siblings dashed off for permission. They succeeded, and Envers set out with them to explore Anhu City's streets.
Anhu City's streets bustled with energy. Thirty years after the Demonic Cult threat receded, ample time had passed for war's sharp edges to dull into peace.
Carriages shoving pedestrians aside, vendors shouting to attract customers—same as his original world or the martial world. But one peculiarity.
"Hiyaap!"
"Think you can catch butterflies with that Golden Snail technique?!"
Drunken men tussling with martial arts.
"You rat! I told you not to tread the roofs!"
"Delivery was urgent—had no choice!"
A young delivery man bounding across rooftops with a long pole—also martial arts.
"Performing acrobatics with a springy pole!"
"...Daoist Qinghui really loves martial arts, huh?"
"That's how you dodged my attacks blindfolded. Without even reading intent."
"You dodged Sis's attacks with eyes closed?!"
Nangong Myeong's questions exploded. Was it a supernatural power? Clairvoyance via Taoism? Hard to combine martial arts and magic?
Before more, Envers revealed the truth.
"...It's a skill. A skill. My friend taught me—called Gaze Insight."
"Reading gazes—amazing!"
"...Reading people's gazes? Hmph, hard to believe."
"Then close your eyes and look somewhere. I'll guess. Left hand, right foot, calf, butt, butt, left ear, shoulder—good?"
"......!!"
The siblings jumped in shock and delight. How, without eyes on their skin, could he read gazes so keenly and precisely?
Intrigued, Envers probed.
"Want to learn? Not sure if you can..."
"Y-You're teaching us?! I'd be thrilled, but we've yet to repay your life-saving grace—another gift would worry me about settling the debt—"
"Yes, teach me."
"Sis!"
Envers had no qualms sharing Gaze Insight's trick. No ritual needed—just repeated staring and guessing to awaken the sense.
Individual aptitude varied; Selbia quit after three hours, frustrated—her senses were dull.
Still, to avoid giving it free, Envers added a condition.
"...Teach me some martial arts in return."
"...!! As expected, after Nangong arts...!!"
"No, no. Anything fine—even ones you can share freely. Street-level or low-grade trash works. Not demanding much."
"The main house library has all sorts of miscellany! Ask and we'll find something to swap!"
The Nangong siblings and Envers made a simple pact.
Exchange martial arts they knew, within comfortable bounds.
Stray from the crowded main street into a quieter alley, and colorful lanterns sway in a serene lane.
A hub for wine, song, and dance. A Central Plains-style pleasure district lined with brothels. Midday sun kept full business at bay.
At night, with liquor flowing and lanterns flickering in the breeze, the sleeping street awakens in dazzling beauty.
Among them, the tallest building—Drunken Revelry Pavilion—was their destination.
Nangong Myeong knocked on the closed door with small fists, raising his voice.
"Ahem... anyone there?"
"Oh, young master. We're not open yet... Ah, a Nangong heir? What brings you here...?"
The door cracked; a maid appeared. About to shoo the daytime boy, she doubled her politeness upon recognizing Nangong blood.
"We believe this is a Hao Gate branch. Daoist Qinghui here has ties to the Beggar Clan and wishes to meet them. Could we ask on his behalf?"
"Of course! They're idle anyway—come in!"
"......"
A faint smirk crossed the maid's face. Envers caught the disdain for 'Beggar Clan' sharply.
His heart sank. His master's sect in such straits—he needed to return the staff technique soon.
Following the maid through opulent halls.
First time in such a place for the siblings too; they gawked curiously. Envers might have joined, but lacked the mood.
At a dingy corner door, uncleaned, the maid stopped and called inside.
"Guests are here—you should entertain."
"I said no entertaining. I'm a warrior, informant—not some whore."
A sharp, venomous reply pierced from beyond—like a voice laced with subtle malice that made one flinch.
"Hmph, this time you must. Nangong young master and lady have business!"
"Then your sloppy tongue is the issue. Implying exalted Nangong heirs come for beggar hospitality? Know your place—less makeup, more brushwork."
"...Grr!"
"Enough. Dismissed. Thank you for guiding."
Envers stepped up, sending the maid away. To the firmly shut door, he delivered tidings beyond dimensions.
"...I bring news of the Beggar Clan Chief. And the lost staff technique forms."
"...What a joke."
Slam. The door flew open.
A woman emerged, slick as a damp serpent.
Drooping fishhook eyes suggested timidity at first glance. But the venom gleaming beneath her lids was ominous.
Clothes subtly revealing like brothel girls, yet her natural poise chilled more than seduced. Eyes drifted not to bare shoulders, but sleeves hiding daggers.
Her hands.
Studying hand muscles revealed weapon affinity.
The Beggar Clan, bereft of grand staff arts, filled the void with Poison Heart.
Her hands marked her as an assassin technique master.
She eyed rigid Envers, parting crimson lips.
"From the Hao Gate Beggar Clan sub-branch, Beggar Chief Hee Yeonghyeon greets you."
Hee Yeonghyeon.
Espoir de l'Éternal Dark.