Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: The Proper Greeting
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"Don't push the strategist too hard."
"Heh. That's just how he is."
Deung Yeo-pyeong chuckled in response to the middle-aged man's words.
"I've done no such thing."
Jinmu rose with a sullen expression and replied.
The elderly man who had entered alongside Deung Yeo-pyeong had a stern impression.
His taut skin, free of even a single wrinkle, made him look more like a middle-aged man.
In the past, it might have been different, but now he had no choice but to stand and greet him.
Righteous Martial Alliance Leader, Sword Saint Cheol Ji-ryang.
How could he forget? He was one of Jinmu's old archenemies.
Moreover, he felt utterly different from when Jinmu had last seen him.
Heavy.
The air in the room grew thick just from his presence.
The intense pressure was enough to choke him.
It was a matter of disparity.
Unlike in the past, the Cheol Ji-ryang standing before him now was a warrior incomparably stronger than Jinmu himself.
'Damn, I'm still a long way off. If I want to catch up to that bastard.'
While Jinmu was taken aback, Cheol Ji-ryang was feeling something similar.
He had deliberately released his aura.
But what was with that reaction?
He seemed startled at first, but now his gaze held a provocative edge.
'Heh, he's far stranger than the rumors suggested.'
Jinmu hadn't shown the slightest surprise upon seeing him.
This was clearly their first meeting. Even for a Taoist bestowed the title of Wudang's Ground Sword, the response was utterly unexpected.
Was there any among the younger generation of the current martial world like this?
Most would rise with humble expressions, gushing about the glory of the encounter in exalted tones.
But that provocative glare, as if beholding a longtime rival—what was that about?
Cheol Ji-ryang began to think that this Taoist of Wudang, who had reached the pinnacle of the strong realm, might be far greater than anticipated.
"What do you think? See, I'm right?"
Deung Yeo-pyeong wore a pleased expression, sensing the subtle tension between them.
"Indeed. Just as Dragon Peak Pavilion Master said. I'm almost ashamed."
They got along splendidly.
And Dragon Peak Pavilion Master?
Deung Yeo-pyeong had apparently accepted the position after all.
Claiming he'd never heard of it before, yet here he was, glued to Cheol Ji-ryang's side like he'd always been the Pavilion Master.
Jinmu frowned at their conversation.
"Hahaha! Well now. In that case, we sent that letter for nothing?"
"……."
Letter?
Come to think of it, Wudang's Sect Leader Myeonghyeon had given him a letter and told him to choose.
"Goodness. Look here, Grand Strategist. It seems we've made a grave mistake."
"It appears so."
"……."
The two exchanged laughs seamlessly. Jinmu, utterly clueless, could only look puzzled.
"Please, sit."
As Cheol Ji-ryang sat and gestured for him to do the same, the pressure bearing down on Jinmu vanished without a trace.
'Tch, so he was testing me.'
It had been enough to suffocate him.
Setting aside Deung Yeo-pyeong, without prior warning, even Zhuge Hyeop-jin—not to mention Zhuge San-san—couldn't have endured it stone-faced.
But he couldn't call them out on it directly.
"I said, sit."
With another inviting gesture, Jinmu reluctantly took his seat.
He had no desire to sit with him, but his master and the Sect Leader had ordered him to pay respects to the Alliance Leader before departing Pyoju.
Better this way, actually.
No need to wait another four days. Once the greetings were done, he could leave immediately.
"Do you know why I personally requested your presence via letter?"
"……."
He hadn't given it much thought. Requested?
"At first, upon Bi-hyeon's recommendation, I considered taking you as a disciple."
Cheol Ji-ryang didn't beat around the bush like Zhuge Hyeop-jin. He stated his thoughts plainly.
Bi-hyeon? As Jinmu looked puzzled, Zhuge Hyeop-jin explained.
"It's the title the Alliance uses for Elder Mu-pung-gae."
"Ah."
Just call him Mu-pung-gae. No need for all these fancy titles confusing people.
Wait, who were they planning to teach?
Only then did Jinmu realize one of the Sect Leader's options had originated from their request.
Ah, hold on—these guys!
If they hadn't asked?
Would he have even been given the choices of Grand Disciple or Wudang Ground Sword?
Not a hypothesis—he was certain of it.
In that case, he wouldn't have pinned any hopes on Un-gong's words and decided to scour the Taoist gates for the elusive latter half of the Two Forms Heart Art.
Especially since its very existence was uncertain.
If they hadn't sent that letter to the Sect Leader...
'I might have already mastered the Two Forms Heart Art, half-baked or not!'
Jinmu nearly bellowed as the thought struck him.
"In any case, after seeing your skills, you're hardly worthy of my tutelage."
As if he wanted any tutoring!
He had no intention or need for it.
"Of course. He's the Wudang Ground Sword, after all. Moreover, he's already on par with me."
"Quite so. Hmm, if he's equal to a great hero like Dragon Peak Pavilion Master, we can't place him in the outer halls. Is there a good position somewhere?"
Cheol Ji-ryang glanced at Jinmu, gauging his reaction.
"How about Martial Instructor of Dragon Peak Pavilion? Young as he is, given his status and insight into martial arts, he'd be more than qualified, don't you think?"
"Qualified? He'd have plenty to spare."
These bastards?
Deung Yeo-pyeong had stayed at the Alliance with Zhuge San-san after arriving. They'd clearly discussed this, and that line sounded rehearsed.
"What say you, Grand Strategist?"
"Spot on. The finest decision you've made lately."
"Heh heh, you think so too?"
"Absolutely."
"I agree as well."
Even Zhuge San-san chimed in with his gravelly voice.
But.
"No thanks."
"Eh?"
"What?"
"Huh?"
"Pardon?"
Jinmu's firm refusal elicited a rainbow of reactions.
As if they'd never dreamed of rejection.
Deung Yeo-pyeong, staring dumbfounded, tried to persuade him.
"N-No, listen, Taoist Jinmu. The Martial Instructor position at Dragon Peak Pavilion. You seem unaware, being so detached from worldly affairs, but the candidates alone..."
"I said no."
It was obvious to Jinmu.
He'd refuse even the Alliance Leader's seat.
"……."
No need to even consider it.
Martial Instructor at Dragon Peak Pavilion? Obviously a subordinate role.
And they wouldn't just let him sit idle—they'd work him to the bone.
What did Jinmu have to gain from teaching snot-nosed kids from across the Central Plains?
He'd barely escaped Wudang using Pyoju as an excuse.
Finding his dream—the Two Forms Heart Art, if it existed—was urgent enough without them dragging him into this.
"I only came to pay my respects as the Sect Leader instructed."
Jinmu emphasized "respects."
Cheol Ji-ryang regarded him silently.
He had to be conflicted. He had no choice.
The value of a warrior at the pinnacle of the strong realm was immense.
Deung Yeo-pyeong tried again.
"Think it over, Taoist Jinmu. This isn't an ordinary opportunity. If the Wudang Ground Sword becomes Dragon Peak Pavilion's Martial Instructor, Wudang's prestige will soar..."
"Just! The! Respects! Then! I'm gone!"
Jinmu cut him off, erecting an ironclad defense.
Absolutely not.
"Taoist Jinmu, at least consider..."
"……."
He nearly wavered at Zhuge San-san's seductive doe eyes and husky voice.
But.
"No matter how I think, it's the same. Just respects."
"……."
"Hmm."
As everyone looked awkward.
"Haha, is that so? Respects it is."
Contrary to Jinmu's intent, Cheol Ji-ryang laughed heartily.
"Can't be helped. Then I'll receive your respects."
"......Pardon?"
His ironclad defense crumbled too easily, leaving Jinmu bewildered.
"You know what a greeting between martial artists entails, right?"
"……."
A greeting between martial artists?
What... was that?
First time hearing it.
Glancing at Zhuge Hyeop-jin and Zhuge San-san, even they seemed clueless.
"Come, let's go. Time for respects."
"Pardon?"
"Heh, why pretend you don't know?"
Not pretending—he truly didn't.
"Heh heh, it's been ages since I last drew my sword."
Cheol Ji-ryang rose with booming laughter, grabbing his sword from the wall.
Huh? That kind of greeting?
"Haha! Indeed. A warrior's greeting—you must receive it."
Zhuge Hyeop-jin joined in.
Anyone could see it was forced.
"True enough. A greeting between warriors. Injuries happen all the time."
"Exactly. But no worries. Divine Dragon Physician is here at the Alliance. As long as you're breathing, he'll save you. Perfect for a month or two of recovery while we contact Wudang."
Deung Yeo-pyeong and Zhuge Hyeop-jin laughed in unison.
Were there really people like this?
They'd even planned the recovery period. Jinmu stared in disbelief.
"You're... doing the greeting?"
Zhuge San-san smiled sweetly in his gravelly man's voice.
"……."
He'd forgotten—they were all in cahoots.
Greeting, my ass.
Who were they fooling with that?
They planned to overpower him, injure him, pressure Wudang, and force him into Dragon Peak Pavilion.
"……."
Jinmu sighed at them, then suddenly smirked.
Cheol Ji-ryang. He'd clashed with his swordsmanship countless times. He knew it inside out.
And he was curious. The old Cheol Ji-ryang versus the current one.
And where his own skills stood now?
They were fated to meet eventually. To reign over the righteous sects, he had to break him.
'Fine. I'll give you your greeting.'
Jinmu gripped the sword at his waist tightly.
Beneath the grand hall housing the Alliance Leader's office.
'It's huge. Everything here's oversized.'
He hadn't imagined such a space existed.
They'd descended deep underground via a passage from one wall of the office.
A corridor lit by whole night-luminescent pearls, those exorbitantly expensive ones.
'How much did all that cost?'
He half-wanted to pry one loose and pocket it.
Beyond the opulent corridor stood massive iron doors, opening to a vast rectangular cavern.
"My personal training ground."
Cheol Ji-ryang boasted proudly.
Jinmu chuckled inwardly in exasperation.
The martial world's view of him: exceedingly humble Righteous Martial Alliance Leader.
One who wielded power yet never flaunted authority, mingling freely with subordinates.
What nonsense. By whose standards was this humility?
Even as Lord of Evil Hegemony Heaven, Jinmu had never owned a private drill hall like this.
The lined night-luminescent pearls were one thing, but this square hall could fit a hundred without crowding.
And the height...
How did they excavate something like this underground?
Excessive. Utterly extravagant.
Why waste money on this when any open field would do?
This was profligacy at its finest.
"Alliance Leader, you're too modest. Laying the floor with mere rubble."
"Now, now. We must consider the Alliance's finances."
Zhuge Hyeop-jin feigned regret, and he played along.
Diamond stone would shatter under a few steps and slashes anyway.
"Indeed. And these weapons—mere White Lotus Puresteel. I'm ashamed of your frugality."
"Heh heh, the Zhuge family overindulges."
Zhuge San-san admired in his gravelly voice, and he laughed it off.
White Lotus Puresteel? For training, use wooden swords or staffs—what's with premium steel? Do you know how much that costs!
Insane.
This was the problem with those born into everything.
Of course it seemed normal to them.
Utterly normal.
Ever heard of rogue unorthodox wanderers wielding rusted iron swords?
Born clutching famed blades, how could they?
Even after entering this body, Jinmu had worn patched rags until recently.
Wudang Taoists subsisting on Wall Valley Pills three times a day, grateful for daily bread—yet these called this frugality.
"Well then, shall we begin?"
Cheol Ji-ryang took position at the center, sword in hand. Zhuge Hyeop-jin and Zhuge San-san retreated far from Jinmu.
Grip.
Jinmu drew without hesitation.
Shing!
Infusing aura into the blade immediately.
"Heh! Sword aura?"
Everyone, including Cheol Ji-ryang, gasped.
"We should exchange a few moves to gauge each other, not go for the kill right away?"
"……."
Cheol Ji-ryang laughed heartily, but no such intentions here.
Grasping the sword with both hands, channeling the unorthodox's desperation and Wudang's pent-up frustration.
I'll personally judge you wasteful lot!
Bam!
Jinmu stomped forward and shot toward Cheol Ji-ryang.