Chapter 148
Chapter 148
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: S3. Learning from History -5
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Perhaps like mice frozen under the gaze of a snake.
The Namgung siblings and Envers were overwhelmed by that venomous glare, standing stiffly and hesitating awkwardly. Some emotions have the power to dominate people.
The irritation and anger filling her eyes made it impossible to even ask if something bad had happened today. One could only wonder what twisted ordeal she had endured.
But even if they mustered the courage to ask, it likely wouldn't have changed much.
Who in the world would care whether a being became a man or a woman, hated humans or treated them as toys before growing fond of them, wore lingerie or frills or nothing at all?
To an evil god transcending the boundaries of living creatures, such transformations should have been as meaningless as a passing breeze. Assigning gender to a rock or a blade changes nothing.
Changing forms and voices to torment humans was its core function, so impersonating one should have stirred no emotion.
But the distance was too close.
It was the difference between controlling a character from beyond the screen and an actor embodying a role.
Under the mad wizard's direction, the role she was forced to play seeped into the evil god's data, bit by bit, drawing her in.
Day by day, as her shell shifted, amid the confusion of a being whose form kept changing, she had to admit that something within her was gradually altering.
With no escape from this plight, she could only follow fate.
Hiyeonghyeon, aligning with the mad wizard's cues, infused with deep emotion, began her role-play as the Beggar Sect's young beauty leader.
Have you ever dreamed?
If someone claims they haven't, they must be a blatant liar.
"I've never dreamed," is something only those who have lost their dreams say.
It's because the ache of unfulfilled longing is too much to bear—they dismiss it as something that never existed, something they never wished for.
I was originally a girl named Soyeonghyeon.
The name "Yeonghyeon," meaning black hair enduring forever without turning white, carried wishes for longevity—Father's hope that I would live long and healthy.
He said it was obtained from a master Taoist for a fortune, calling out, "Yeonghyeon-ah, Yeonghyeon-ah, when will you come?" Father and Mother stroked my bulging belly with blooming smiles, or so I heard.
But they never foresaw that from birth, I would kill my own mother.
The happy family Father dreamed of tore at the first stroke. He agonized until I was seven, finally concluding, "I never had such a dream."
Thus, he stripped his only daughter of her family name, left her with just a name, and abandoned her to the streets.
And so I became Yeonghyeon.
The girl wandered the streets begging, enduring all sorts of hardships, until a kindhearted beggar took her in, making her a Beggar Sect disciple.
He was her immediate predecessor as Beggar Sect Leader.
He was a braggart. Even with a dark future ahead, he boasted that things would work out somehow. Amid the Beggar Sect's decline and raging storms, he believed good deeds would surely bring heaven's aid.
How bright was he, you ask?
He added the character for "hope" to my name, calling me Hiyeong, as if wishing me enduring hope.
When the Beggar Sect flourished, it functioned like an orphanage, taking in and caring for beggars from every region.
With money and power, such good works were possible. The crumbling Beggar Sect of today lacks the resources, yet he persisted.
When I warned, "At this rate, we'll really become beggars. We'll be sold off to the Hao Sect!"
"I too was raised with the Beggar Sect's help. Even in hardship, shouldn't we give back?"
And so he saved them, saved them...
Until he was killed in a sudden ambush by some gang. The Sect lacked even the means to investigate, and the culprits remain unknown.
I became the next Beggar Sect Leader.
With my benefactor slain by the blade, I wanted at least to protect the Sect he left behind. So I discarded what I could. I dismantled the information network and sold it off, reduced manpower.
Before strength waned further, I sold to the Hao Sect at a high price to preserve the name, and finally cut ties with caring for young beggars.
In the end, only the three characters Hiyeonghyeon remain.
And so, I say I've never dreamed, not once.
Clink.
Hiyeonghyeon set the teacup down noisily on the worn table. The near-water liquid rippled briefly before settling.
Envers bowed his head slightly.
"Ah, thank you."
"It's lukewarm, so dawdle and it'll go cold."
"Then I'll drink and we can start."
"⋯⋯⋯⋯."
If you don't want cold tea, spit out your business and leave—that was the deep meaning, but Envers took it as her liking cold drinks.
Only the perceptive Namgung Myeong, grasping her intent clearly, grew anxious, thinking they should leave soon.
Judging circumlocution would drag things out, Hiyeonghyeon cut straight to it.
"What is your true intent?"
"Intent... what intent?"
"Why bring up the 13th Beggar Sect Leader, who vanished with the Heavenly Demon thirty years ago? Do you think our fallen state lets you toy with us with cheap lies?"
"Misunderstanding. I've never spoken a lie."
Thud!
Hiyeonghyeon slammed down the teapot. The table trembled with ripples.
"Then explain how you obtained that information."
"⋯⋯Well, there's a mage who wields dimensional power, and in a mysterious tower, the Heavenly Demon and my master—the Beggar Sect Leader..."
"Ha, now you don't even bother hiding the lie?"
"⋯⋯⋯⋯."
It was a hard story to believe.
Even Envers, who lived it, hesitated in telling it—how to explain to this world's inhabitants? In his floundering confusion, unexpected support arrived.
Namgung Myeong sat rigidly straight, fists clenched on his knees.
"I, I have something to say!"
"Speak, young master."
"Master Cheonghwi is an incredibly renowned Taoist! I saw with my own eyes him summon clouds of ink thick enough to fill this building to the ground!"
As the conversation momentum waned, Envers inwardly thanked Myeong and added,
"There may be falsehoods in words. But martial arts hold no lies—we both know that. I'll pass on the Dog-Beating Staff Method; test it yourself."
"Who says it's not fake?"
"If your discernment can't tell fake from real, even a fake will help. If it's as refined as the real thing, it helps all the same."
Envers inhaled sharply and spoke firmly.
"If you were truly that skeptical, you wouldn't have served tea and listened—you'd have scorned me outright. So, you must need something enough to consider even a fake."
"⋯⋯⋯⋯."
"Then trust me once. I'll prove my words true—"
Chill!
A sudden icy prickle at his throat made Envers hastily raise his arms to guard vital points at neck and chest.
Namgung Myeong and Namgung Seung-ah also gripped sword hilts, assuming urgent stances.
A sharp killing intent that dropped the room's temperature in an instant.
A realm where mere presence forced reactions from Envers and the Namgung siblings. Hiyeonghyeon was undoubtedly a martial arts master. A bead of cold sweat trickled down Envers's nape.
"⋯⋯Hoo."
From the cuff slightly covering Hiyeonghyeon's hand, a sinister dagger peeked out before retracting smoothly like a cat's claw. The killing intent gradually subsided.
Like snow piling softly in winter, regret and reluctance settled on her eyelids. Seemingly inwardly acknowledging Envers's words, she gazed at her sleeve and spoke.
"You must find it strange, right? A Beggar Sect disciple wielding hidden weapons as her forte."
"⋯⋯I've learned staff, kick, and fist methods, but never concealed techniques."
"Yes. The Beggar Sect has changed. Losing our pillar martial art, we had to grasp anything as a new pillar."
Her insides burning, Yeonghyeon downed a cup of tea and explained her circumstances.
There had been vicious internal strife.
After the Leader steering the Sect and his like-minded beggars all met their ends at the Heavenly Demon's hands, the Beggar Sect splintered into three factions.
Attach here or there. Who should be next Leader, who gets more shares.
No one with legitimate claim, no unparalleled martial artist—everyone mediocre, so chaos only accelerated.
In that turmoil, the Sect lost its identity.
Once, in thriving days, it had a grand purpose all beggars revered, but with no one to teach it, no arts to pass it, it was forgotten.
Amid betrayals and flights, Hiyeonghyeon finally ascended as Leader.
"To survive, we had to change. We shed useless wings first, then front paws and hind legs without hesitation. Thus, we became snakes, clinging filthily in sewers thick with poisonous scents."
Most beggars left the Sect—becoming mere beggars, wanderers with their arts, escorts, or courtesans.
The scant few remaining were Hiyeonghyeon and a handful.
Not because they were strongest and seized the name, but because they alone chose to clutch the dirty, ragged Beggar Sect title.
"We're no longer beggars, courtesans, club-wielders, filthy, or beggars—we lost the form of the Beggar Sect long ago."
Now clinging to life under the Hao Sect's shadow.
"So, what meaning does returning the Dog-Beating Staff Method now hold?"
When even they no longer knew what the Beggar Sect was.
"⋯⋯⋯⋯."
Envers had no answer for her now. He could only vaguely empathize with the loss.
To those clutching only the worn name of Beggar Sect, long decayed—what meaning in returning the Dog-Beating Staff Method?
Passing the shell of a dog-beating martial art—does that hold meaning?
He couldn't answer, so he couldn't promise to return it. Could handing arts to a ruined Sect let them rise again?
Still.
"⋯⋯Later, I'll come back."
"Later, you say?"
"Yes. Indescribable, but I feel you need this Dog-Beating Staff Method. When I can explain precisely why, I'll return."
"⋯⋯⋯⋯Haa."
Hiyeonghyeon sighed deeply, waving him off dismissively. Clear dismissal. Envers stood awkwardly, the Namgung siblings following suit.
As the three clustered awkwardly crossing the threshold, Yeonghyeon murmured just audibly.
"Next time, brush the dust off your tail. If there is a next time..."
"⋯⋯⋯⋯?"
Envers blinked, uncomprehending, but she offered no further explanation.
On the way out of the brothel, Namgung Myeong ventured,
"⋯⋯'Brush off the dust' implies dignity, so dress sharply next time, right, Master Cheonghwi?"
"Myeong-ah, that would mean Hiyeonghyeon is interested in Master Cheonghwi...?"
"⋯⋯Hardly seems like it."
Far from interest, it brimmed with anger. If interested, she'd have acted like Luna...
Envers blushed, recalling moonlit memories.
Thus, he missed the shadow slipping into the crowd, tailing their surveillance.
The day before Namgung Family Head Namgung Chaegong's birthday celebration banquet.
In the Namgung private training hall, three trained. But unusually: two sat cross-legged in focus, one paced, glaring at their seated forms.
This schoolroom-like scene was them learning "Gaze Insight," a secret art from the Western Taoist.
Namgung Myeong found it fun, eyes closed with a faint smile.
"Master, nape?"
"Close."
"Hm... hand?"
"Wrist."
But Namgung Seung-ah's frustration visibly mounted. Restless by nature, and gazes being so elusive.
"⋯⋯Uh, shoulder?"
"No."
"⋯⋯Ch, chest?"
"No."
Even Selbie had blushed like this before exploding soon after. Envers counted inwardly. One, two, three.
Pop.
"I don't know! You're lying to tease me, aren't you, Master Cheonghwi...?!"
"Slander. I learned it from Luna... er, Wol."
"So, how can sensing a gaze alone unlock such perception—"
"Uh, crown of head, Master?"
Argued Seung-ah and evasive Envers both turned to Myeong. Eyes gently shut, he focused briefly.
"Face."
"⋯⋯Not even three hours passed!"
Testing further, Myeong had mastered sensing gazes with high precision, adapting swiftly.
Now assuming attacks from gaze directions, he dodged mimically—movements logical and effective.
Seeing this, impatient Seung-ah squeezed eyes shut, plopping down, yelling,
"Damn... look at me quick, Master Cheonghwi! I'll get it fast too!"
"Herr..."
"Look at me!"
Ignoring her whining, Envers eyed Myeong mysteriously. This boy was a genius with innate talent.
Three more hours passed, but Seung-ah failed. Envers worried their bond might fray, but unfounded.
"⋯⋯How are you so good at martial arts?!"
"S-Sis. It hurts!"
Seung-ah harbored jealousy inwardly. She ruffled her brother's hair to vent frustrations. A familiar sight.
"Often like this?"
"⋯⋯Yes, Master Cheonghwi. Myeong pulls ahead so fast. Even Father said, 'You're the world's top prodigy.'"
"Overpraise. Sis has elegant sword basics, and Brother Soh is way ahead anyway!"
"How much older is Brother Soh?!"
Myeong grinned sheepishly at the flattery. Envers felt poignant familiarity stinging his heart. After hesitation, he asked softly,
"⋯⋯You and your brother... get along?"
"Yes! Brother Soh's busy, so we don't hang out much, but... he always worries for me. Last time, he even bought me a talisman!"
"That must've been great."
"Yes. My one dream... is to serve beside Brother Soh as Family Head, making the clan prosper!"
Sparkling eyes. Beyond the boy,
'I'll be Roderus-hyung's right hand!'
A sticky past vision flashed.
Unable to face it, Envers squeezed eyes shut.
"⋯⋯You'll surely achieve it."
Even closed eyelids held faded childhood memories, like black spots after staring at the sun.
"Pig roast goes here, you idiot—here!"
"Hurry, set the tables; hang banners there!"
Preparations bustled noisily. Laborers scurried moving furniture and food; Namgung retainers dressed neatly, chatting.
Far off, Namgung Myeong and Namgung Soh laughed, greeting warmly. Seemingly perfect brothers.
Watching with sunken eyes,
Envers was serene amid the din.
"⋯⋯⋯⋯."
Sometimes, it felt like being lost. What's the point of training so hard? The vague dream of returning to the estate, proving strength, kneeling those who scorned him, becoming the Lord's right hand—wasn't it too late?
Could he achieve it?
With this body aching when mana stirs—could he?
'So, what meaning does returning the Dog-Beating Staff Method now hold?'
Current Leader Hiyeonghyeon's words echoed. Profound doubt: Would the future improve? Could the spilled be gathered?
"⋯⋯I."
In that chaos, faintly. Like sunlight and moonlight brushing past.
The incident occurred.
Stomp stomp stomp stomp.
Footsteps rang; Namgung warriors encircled Envers. Lifting his head, the reception hall's Taoist fanned his horsetail whisk forward.
"What's this?"
"Hmph, no more feigning innocence. My divine sight watched you clearly—what you did outside!"
"⋯⋯⋯⋯?"
Outside—visiting the Hao Sect with the siblings?
"You lured the crumbling Beggar Sect with the lost Dog-Beating Staff Method? Where'd you get it? It vanished with the Heavenly Demon!"
"No, that's..."
"One answer. You're a Demonic Cult pawn-!!"
"⋯⋯⋯⋯?!"
Malevolent energy lunged.