Chapter 30
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: A Hidden Story
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Mujin stopped dead in his tracks, standing silently for a moment.
“...”
“How do you know that name?”
A heavy aura emanated from Mujin as he turned and asked.
Struck by the sudden pressure, the teacup in Dang So-hye's hand trembled.
“Haha. I've certainly lived a long time. Since I earned the title of Poison Emperor, no junior has ever dared to pressure me with such an aura.”
The Poison Emperor remained completely unfazed by Mujin's storm-like presence.
It was only natural.
After all, there was an immense, insurmountable gap in their current levels of mastery.
But even so, Mujin spoke as if he didn't care in the slightest.
“That's not important. There's always a first time for everything. I'll ask you just one thing. Do you know anything about the Swordless Trace?”
At Mujin's question, the Poison Emperor's smile vanished, and he looked straight at Mujin.
“You look ready to draw your sword if I say I do.”
“...”
Mujin didn't answer.
He had never backed down just because an opponent was stronger, not in his past life and not in this one.
The title of Divine Demon wasn't earned by picking and choosing his battles.
“Let's stop here. I've never heard of such a thing.”
Seeing that Mujin had no intention of backing down, the Poison Emperor took a step back.
As soon as the Poison Emperor finished speaking, the aura radiating from Mujin vanished as if it had never been there.
Dang So-hye, who had been trembling like an aspen leaf, finally stopped shaking and stared at Mujin with wide, surprised eyes.
In her mind, Hwa Mujin was just the eldest son of a failing martial family who had stumbled upon some fortunate encounter.
The only thing slightly special about him was that her grandfather, the greatest martial artist in Sichuan, was watching him with interest.
A rather unremarkable warrior, whom she estimated to be only about half a step ahead of her own peak first-class level.
But the presence he had just displayed was by no means something a mere first-class master could project.
The storm-like aura that seemed to sweep through the surroundings, threatening to devour everything, was an energy she had rarely experienced, even growing up in the Tang Clan, the greatest family in Sichuan.
‘And it wasn't even mixed with killing intent.’
She had lost control of her body and trembled from an aura that didn't even contain killing intent?
It made no sense.
It was a special kind of presence.
‘Pressure? Spirit? It contained something... irresistible.’
Her mind grew complicated as she recalled the fleeting but irresistible pressure she had felt, a pressure that wasn't killing intent.
She couldn't have imagined that it was the spirit of a master who, in his past life, had been called the Divine Demon and stood at the pinnacle of the martial world.
Watching Mujin sit down, the Poison Emperor smiled again.
“The more I learn, the more intriguing you become. That is by no means an aura someone of your level should be able to project.”
“And what do you think my level is?”
At Mujin's question, the Poison Emperor's smile deepened.
“Must we cross hands for me to know?”
Mujin also smiled at the Poison Emperor's words.
Before learning the Nine Swords of Dugu, Mujin would have said the same thing.
But the Nine Swords of Dugu had taught him that a warrior's level of mastery wasn't everything.
Currently, Mujin's internal energy probably amounted to less than fifteen years' worth of cultivation.
Having only started cultivating his energy with the boy's body for a little less than half a year, even this was a remarkable achievement.
And yet, Mujin had subdued the Four Demons of Mount Jung—who had at least a full sixty-year cycle of cultivation more than him and had been first-class masters for quite some time—as if they were children.
To subdue four first-class masters in such a way, one would need to be at least at the peak level.
But no matter how profound a warrior's enlightenment, it was impossible to reach the peak level with only fifteen years of internal energy.
“Some things can only be known for certain once they're put to the test.”
“Such remarkable confidence.”
“How did you know? About the Nine Swords of Dugu.”
At Mujin's question, the Poison Emperor lifted his teacup, moistened his throat, and then began to speak.
“I saw it once, when I was a child. It's a forgotten, hidden story that no one in the martial world knows but me. This story is also tied to my family's shame. Do you really need to know?”
Mujin replied calmly to the Poison Emperor's words.
“Then there's no need to speak of it. It doesn't seem like something I need to know.”
At Mujin's words, the Poison Emperor, who had been preparing to launch into a long story, looked at him with a deflated expression.
“You don't need me to tell you?”
“Why would I need to know about another family's shame? If it's not related to the Swordless Trace, then I have no reason to know.”
As Mujin finished speaking and stood up again, the Poison Emperor hastily spoke.
“I have something I want to hear from you, so I'll tell you! Ahem! Wouldn't that be fair?”
Mujin, who had been halfway up, sat back down with an annoyed expression.
“Then go on and tell me.”
The roles seemed to have reversed, and Dang So-hye tilted her head in confusion.
The Poison Emperor glanced at Dang So-hye for a moment before he began.
“This story took place when I was still a child, in the year I turned nine.”
Hearing that the Poison Emperor had been nine, Mujin briefly searched his memory.
‘If that brat was that age, it must have been when I had entered the mountains and was in the thick of my training.’
While Mujin was lost in thought, the Poison Emperor's story continued.
“That day, my brother and I had gone along with our grandfather, who had passed on the position of Family Head to our father and taken up fishing as a pastime.”
“...”
Mujin listened silently to the Poison Emperor's tale.
“At the time, my grandfather's mastery of poison arts was said to reach the heavens, and he was known by the title Emperor of Heavenly Poisons.”
Mujin, who had never heard the name, simply nodded.
He had little interest in the warriors of the generation before his.
“We were excitedly catching fish when he appeared.”
The Poison Emperor paused his story and glanced at his empty teacup. Dang So-hye, who was beside him, refilled it.
As the Poison Emperor drank his tea, moistening his lips, Mujin spoke.
“Was he a man of slight build, wearing a worn yellow martial robe and carrying a large, pitch-black darksteel sword?”
!!!
The Poison Emperor, who had been drinking his tea, set down his cup and stared at Mujin with wide eyes.
“With the characters for 'Ultimate' tattooed on his shoulder. Am I right?”
At Mujin's words, the Poison Emperor slowly nodded, his face filled with shock.
Pung Sa-chun, his master's close friend and the successor of the Nine Swords of Dugu, whom he had met only once.
Mujin smiled, recalling the image of Pung Sa-chun, who always wore a yellow martial robe and, in his youth, had traveled the Central Plains seeking out countless masters to test his swordsmanship.
If only he had been blessed with a long life and held greater ambitions for the martial world, there would be no one in the Central Plains today who didn't know his name.
‘He was the only one my master acknowledged, and besides the Demonic Spirit Sect, he was the sole successor to a lineage that knew of the Swordless Trace.’
While Mujin was lost in these thoughts, the Poison Emperor spoke.
“How in the world did you know?”
“Let's just say we have a connection.”
“Don't tell me he's... still alive?”
The Poison Emperor found it hard to believe that Pung Sa-chun, who had already been an old man back then, could still be alive.
Instead of answering, Mujin changed the subject.
“He must have challenged your grandfather to a duel.”
“He did.”
“And once the duel began, that master defeated your grandfather with nine sword forms.”
!!
Dang So-hye frowned at Mujin's words and shifted uncomfortably.
The Emperor of Heavenly Poisons was still counted among the handful of greatest masters in the history of the Tang Clan's family heads.
To say that such a master had been defeated in a mere nine forms was tantamount to an insult.
But the Poison Emperor nodded.
“That's right!”
As her grandfather confirmed it, Dang So-hye looked at him with an expression of disbelief.
“After winning the duel, he must have left abruptly without even revealing his name. The only name he left behind would have been that of his sword art, the Nine Swords of Dugu.”
“Exactly. What is your relationship with that... person?”
After a moment of thought, Mujin slowly began to speak in response to the Poison Emperor's question.
“Since I inherited his martial arts, I can't say there's no relationship, but...”
“So you're that master's disciple?”
“A disciple... I can't say we formed a master-disciple bond, but it is true that I have inherited his martial lineage.”
“For now?”
“Just know that there are complicated circumstances. Someday, the true successor to his lineage will appear. I am merely a messenger who has taken custody of the Nine Swords of Dugu for a time. I am not the legitimate heir.”
From Mujin's words, the Poison Emperor sensed that there was a complex, hidden story involved and nodded.
“But I don't think I've ever properly demonstrated the sword forms. How did you know?”
“The move you used to cleave through my aura was identical to the first sword strike that master used to cleave through my grandfather's poison energy. I could never mistake it. The sight of him splitting and scattering my grandfather's poison energy, which had blanketed the heavens and earth, with a single sword strike is still vivid in my mind.”
‘So he recognized the Space-Rending Form.’
Indeed, it would be difficult to forget the memory of a master who brought the grandfather he revered like the heavens to his knees with just nine sword forms.
“Well, I understand the gist of it now. I really have things to do, so I'll be leaving.”
“Let me ask one more thing.”
Mujin looked at the Poison Emperor.
“By any chance... what do you think of our Hye-ah?”
“What do you mean, what do I think?”
As Mujin asked as if he didn't understand, Dang So-hye's face turned red.
“I'm asking what you think of her as a potential bride.”
To the Poison Emperor's blunt question, Mujin gave an equally blunt reply.
“I have no particular interest. At least in this life, I have no intention of ever getting married. Is that answer enough for you?”
It wasn't just that he didn't like Dang So-hye; Mujin brought up his entire life, making the Poison Emperor tilt his head.
“Do you prefer men?”
“I'm as uninterested in them as I am in women.”
“But why?”
“It's a personal matter, and I have no intention of explaining.”
“So it's not that you don't like our Hye-ah?”
“I don't like her, and as I said, I will not be getting married.”
The Poison Emperor and Mujin were killing Dang So-hye, who was listening quietly with her head down, twice over.
With that, Mujin rose from his seat and walked away. The Poison Emperor watched his back for a long time with a look of disappointment.
Once he was out of sight, Dang So-hye spoke.
“Grandfather... why did you say such a thing? I have no interest in Young Master Hwa.”
“Isn't he a warrior to be coveted? But he seems to have no interest in women at all. Tsk, tsk. And it's a shame you're not interested either. Next time, I'll have to bring Jeong-ah.”
Dang So-hye's shoulders flinched at the Poison Emperor's words.
“After all, that child is more charming and gets along well with people.”
“Young Master Hwa is the eldest son of the Yeomhwa Family and the heir to the position of Family Head. Why would he marry into our family?”
The Tang Clan was a prime example of a martial family that expanded its influence by increasing its branch families.
Dang So-hye couldn't even imagine Mujin marrying into the Tang Clan—a clan famous for taking in sons-in-law and changing their surnames to Tang.
“We don't necessarily have to bring him in as a live-in son-in-law. We're both from Sichuan. A man of his caliber is worth forming an alliance with, wouldn't you say? Look at all those warriors who have gathered. Soon, the phoenix of Sichuan will spread its wings and soar. It is my judgment that it would be best to form a deep connection before that happens.”
At the Poison Emperor's words, Dang So-hye turned her gaze toward the place where Mujin had disappeared, her eyes filled with unease.
* * *
“Taking a break?”
At Mujin's question as he appeared in the training yard, the warriors of the Reaper Unit, who were collapsed on the ground gasping for breath and drenched in sweat, barely managed to get up and greet him.
“That's enough. You look like you're about to pass out. The rest of you, keep resting. You four, come with me.”
“Sir?”
“We skipped morning training because of that old man, the Poison Emperor. We need to make up for it.”
“...”
At Mujin's words, the faces of the Four Demons darkened.
The Four Demons had been happy to skip a day of training with Mujin because the Poison Emperor had shown up before sunrise.
But it seemed Mujin had no intention of letting them off for even a single day.
“I'm busy with my own training too. Hurry up.”
At his words, the four men, heaving heavy sighs, stood before Mujin, who had a cloth-wrapped sword slung over his shoulder.
“No-sak. You go first.”
At Cheol-muk's command, No-sak let out a deep sigh and charged at Mujin, swinging his iron staff.
-Clang! Thwack!
“You bastard! Are your forms still this shaky?”
Struck in the chest, No-sak stumbled back, reeling.
-Swish!
In that opening, Dong-jeok's saber flew through the air.
But Mujin lightly took half a step back, narrowly dodging the saber, and simultaneously took a large step forward.
-Clang!
Dong-jeok barely managed to block the hilt of Mujin's sword as it came for his solar plexus and took half a step back. Jang-tae squeezed into the opening and thrust his sword forward.
And then Cheol-muk also aimed for Mujin's back, the three of them flawlessly attacking Mujin in a coordinated assault.
The three men covered each other's openings, pressing Mujin hard.
The warriors who were seeing Mujin train with the Four Demons for the first time watched the fight with wide eyes, captivated by the rapid exchange of blows.
-Thump! Thwack! Thump!
“You bastards have completely lost your focus, haven't you? Concentrate! How can you not even last a quarter of an hour?”
“Ugh... Young Master, your footwork is just too unpredictable...”
“That's right! It's difficult to counter your unique footwork, Young Master!”
“Even when we try to counter, we're already a step behind. There's nothing we can do.”
“Oh? So you're getting used to being hit, is that it? You idiots! What do you mean there's nothing you can do? Just copy me. Have you only been improving your endurance after all this time getting beaten?”
With those words, Mujin began to beat the Four Demons as if he were catching rats.
Compared to when they first started, the movements of the Four Demons were certainly starting to look quite plausible.
Of course, since Mujin was their opponent, it wasn't very noticeable.
After pressing and pummeling the Four Demons for an hour, Mujin looked at the warriors who were sitting on the ground, resting.
“And when are these guys going to look decent? Aren't you taking it too easy on them? You'll have warriors under you soon. Train them faster. You need to promote them to squad leaders so you can become commanders of the combat division. At this rate, when will that ever happen? Do you want to train all the new recruits yourselves? Tsk, tsk. So damn slow.”
With that, Mujin disappeared.
The warriors, who had been enjoying the spectacle, suddenly found themselves caught in the crossfire and began to sneak glances at the Four Demons.
After Mujin left, the warriors of the Reaper Unit finally understood why the Four Demons were in such a foul mood every morning during training.
They realized that the family's Eldest Young Master was the reason their morning training sessions were so particularly harsh.
‘Even I would be angry if I got beaten like that.’
‘So they've been getting beaten like that every morning.’
‘No wonder they act like such bastards the moment training starts.’
“Break's over. Fall in.”
At Cheol-muk's command, the warriors, who hadn't even eaten yet, scrambled to line up in front of him.
That day, the groans of the warriors leaked ceaselessly over the training yard walls.