Sect Leader! That Bastard Is a God of Wealth! (1)
“Wh-where did you learn that—cough!”
Yi Song-baek coughed up a mouthful of blood. At the sight, Chung Myung let out a sigh and released his grip on the man’s collar.
That might have been a little much.
From Chung Myung’s point of view, it was an unforgivable crime even if the heavens came crashing down, but there was no way the blame could lie with Yi Song-baek. The man simply didn’t have the ability to pull off something like this.
“Tch.”
Chung Myung flattened his palm and slapped Yi Song-baek once on the back.
Thwack!
As Chung Myung’s energy washed through his body, the turmoil inside Yi Song-baek slowly settled. Before long, Yi Song-baek drew a long breath, his face looking much better.
Seeing that he had calmed down, Chung Myung straightened and looked up at the sky.
He stared at it for a long moment before letting out a long, drawn-out sigh.
“So that’s Southern Edge’s new martial art?”
“...It is.”
“Snow Flower Twelve Sword?”
“It is.”
Chung Myung snorted.
If you’re going to steal it, at least change the damn name.
This was no different from a naked provocation, as if they were saying, what the hell are you going to do about it if Hua Mountain knows?
No. That’s not it.
They must have been certain that even if they did this openly, Hua Mountain would no longer recognize the sword art.
This was mockery.
If Chung Myung had not appeared, Hua Mountain would have gone on not knowing a thing while Southern Edge casually used a sword art that had been lost to Hua Mountain.
The malice of the bastard who made this sword art was clawing at Chung Myung’s insides.
“Who learns this sword art?”
“... ”
“What, is it so incredible you need to think that hard before answering?”
Yi Song-baek nodded.
“From the second-generation disciples onward.”
“From the second generation, huh. So that means the first-generation disciples, the second-generation disciples, and the elders know it?”
“I was told the elders have never learned it. Those practicing it now are the first and second generations.”
“Never learned it...”
Chung Myung’s eyes flashed with a terrifying light.
If one of the elders had created the Snow Flower Twelve Sword, then the transmission would naturally have started from the first-generation disciples.
Then that means the bastard who last completed this sword is still in Southern Edge?
That was, at least, one piece of good news.
If the bastard responsible had already died and been buried, then there would be no one left to find and punish.
I don’t know who you are, but I’ll make you pay dearly for pulling this crap!
Chung Myung ground his teeth.
He didn’t even need to think too hard about what must have happened.
When chaos broke out at Hua Mountain, Southern Edge would have come to help. A nearby sect standing by while the Demonic Sect invaded and doing nothing but watching from the sidelines would have been condemned by the jianghu.
But they pretended to help while secretly stealing Hua Mountain’s martial arts.
Not everyone would have done it. But among them, there had to be someone who used the fire at Hua Mountain as cover to do something unforgivable.
Or maybe...
Maybe Hua Mountain’s burning wasn’t even the Demonic Sect’s doing.
Crack.
His teeth ground together on their own.
The more he thought about it, the more unbearable it became.
“Those dogshit bastards...”
Chung Myung had risked his life to save the world from disaster. And these bastards had repaid that grace by turning it into enmity against Hua Mountain?
What’s more, this hadn’t ended with one man’s greed.
People made mistakes. That was why they committed sins in the first place. Suppose someone from Southern Edge who came to Hua Mountain had gone blind with greed and made a mistake.
But wasn’t it the sect’s job to correct that mistake?
Instead of sternly condemning the crime and returning the stolen manual, they had used it as the basis for creating a new martial art? And not only that—they’d named it Snow Flower, as if deliberately mocking Hua Mountain?
“They’ve really lost their damn minds.”
Grinding his teeth, Chung Myung turned back to Yi Song-baek with eyes burning hot.
“You!”
“Y-yes? Ah... yes!”
“Don’t learn it.”
“Eh? Why...?”
“I said don’t learn it, so don’t learn it! You brat!”
Chung Myung smacked him on the back of the head.
Watching Yi Song-baek clutch his head and groan, two emotions twisted together inside him.
There was part of him that wanted to beat Yi Song-baek to death too, simply because he was a Southern Edge bastard...
“Tsk.”
Chung Myung clicked his tongue, irritation thick in the sound, and looked at Yi Song-baek.
“This is a martial art that can’t be perfected.”
“... ”
Yi Song-baek stared at him blankly, but Chung Myung was speaking only the truth.
If Yi Song-baek hadn’t come to him asking for a match and shown him that Snow Flower Twelve Sword or whatever the hell it was, Chung Myung would have gone on not knowing about this for years.
In a way, Yi Song-baek had helped him.
Chung Myung never forgot a debt if he could repay it, and never forgot a grudge under any circumstances—but this one was too big to wave away so easily.
“Southern Edge’s martial arts are built on balance. They might seem slow and heavy at first, but the more you polish them, the stronger they get. That’s Southern Edge’s sword. But this isn’t that. This doesn’t fit Southern Edge. If you want to truly become someone great with a sword, throw this away right now.”
“But the elders said this sword art is one step beyond Southern Edge’s existing swordsmanship.”
“Of course they’d say that.”
Not a single person had yet perfected Snow Flower Twelve Sword.
Flash and sparkle always looked faster. When a person who stubbornly refined the fundamentals fought someone who relied on dazzling variations and tricks, the flashy one would overwhelmingly win as long as both were still at a shallow level.
No, why the hell doesn’t Southern Edge understand that...
“Ah...”
A sigh escaped Chung Myung’s lips.
I beat them too hard.
He could see it now.
The root of all this was Chung Myung hunting down Southern Edge swordsmen like a pest exterminator.
It wasn’t arrogance or a wild leap of logic. From Southern Edge’s perspective, it was only natural.
They, too, would have been proud of their swordsmanship. But over the decades after Chung Myung appeared in the neighboring sect and before he died in the war against the Demonic Sect, Southern Edge had never once beaten him.
Did that mean Southern Edge was weak?
Absolutely not.
If Southern Edge had been weak, they never would have occupied one of the seats among the Nine Sects and One Gang.
On the contrary, Southern Edge in that era had been a time when geniuses poured forth without precedent. Even across their entire history, it would be hard to find another period when talent had burst so violently to the surface.
And those geniuses had all been born in the same age as Chung Myung, only to be shattered one and all under his hand...
It wouldn’t be strange if they started doubting everything they had.
Idiots.
If Chung Myung had been born in Southern Edge, would he have died forgotten without ever being called the Sword Saint?
No.
The important thing wasn’t the martial art. No, the martial art mattered too—but who used it mattered several times more.
“Uh...”
Then Yi Song-baek, after furtively checking his expression, spoke up.
“Are you saying I should not learn Snow Flower Twelve Sword?”
“That’s right.”
“But...”
Yi Song-baek seemed to fumble for words, and Chung Myung gave him a sideways look before speaking in a far more serious tone than before.
“No one else can decide your own path for you.”
“... ”
Yi Song-baek looked at him with a slightly changed expression.
“Some decisions are helped by the advice of others, but the real choice has to be made alone. Not even the words of your sect’s elders, or my words, will matter in the end. Think for yourself, worry by yourself, and decide by yourself.”
Chung Myung turned on his heel. Without another word, he began walking toward Eunha Merchant Guild.
“W-wait a moment!”
As he walked, Chung Myung glanced back over his shoulder.
Yi Song-baek bowed deeply with cupped hands.
“Thank you for your teaching.”
“Whatever. Don’t mention it.”
Chung Myung waved a hand dismissively and kept going.
Yi Song-baek watched his retreating back for a long time, then let out a deep breath and looked up at the sky.
“It feels like I just met a true immortal.”
Meanwhile, Chung Myung’s face repeatedly flushed red with fury and then cooled again.
“The more I think about it, the angrier I get, those bastards!”
They had the nerve to steal the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art? And then copy it? If it were up to him, he’d run straight to Southern Edge and tear the place apart right now.
“Aigoo, Sahyung. This is the way of the world. These bastards didn’t even repay kindness—they pulled this dogshit stunt instead. And I’m supposed to just endure it?”
If you don’t endure it, what are you going to do?
It almost sounded like Chung Mun was snorting laughter at him from the heavens.
“Damn it, if only I were as strong as I was back then...”
If Chung Myung were still the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, the elders of Southern Edge would have to recite their own death prayers. Unfortunately, he was not the Plum Blossom Sword Saint anymore. He was a third-generation disciple of Hua Mountain.
I need to get stronger, faster.
He felt it all over again.
The jianghu was a place where those without strength ultimately couldn’t do a damn thing. Even if Hua Mountain’s sect leader and elders knew about this, could they actually confront Southern Edge?
No, they couldn’t.
Only the strong had the privilege of protesting and pointing out another’s wrongdoing. Right now, Hua Mountain didn’t even possess the power to condemn Southern Edge’s corruption.
“Right now, anyway.”
Chung Myung ground his teeth.
“But not for much longer.”
In the end, Hua Mountain would recover its former glory. As long as Chung Myung existed, it had to.
If there was one thing he had confirmed today, it was that Hua Mountain and Southern Edge were ultimately incompatible.
Now that Southern Edge had crossed the line and done something they should never have done, it was impossible for Hua Mountain and Southern Edge to both keep prospering and living comfortably as if nothing had happened.
Even if others wanted that, Chung Myung would not allow it now.
“I need to get stronger faster.”
A vicious light settled in Chung Myung’s eyes.
He needed to grow stronger, yes, but Hua Mountain as a whole needed to grow stronger too. If Hua Mountain could not become strong as Hua Mountain, then its limits would be painfully clear.
Chung Myung had no intention of making Hua Mountain into a sect that depended only on him. It had to become a Hua Mountain that could stand as the greatest sword sect under heaven even without Chung Myung.
Only then could those bastards be punished.
Snow Flower Twelve Sword, huh.
It had been well made.
It was a sword art crudely copied from the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art, but it wasn’t just a matter of borrowing the form. He could tell they had agonized over how to blend it into Southern Edge’s martial arts.
There were traces of deliberate changes to reduce the flamboyance as much as possible and adapt the sword forms to Southern Edge’s internal energy, and he could also see that they had adjusted the speed so it would harmonize with Southern Edge’s other techniques.
It wasn’t merely a copy of the Plum Blossom Sword Art. They had clearly intended to forge it into a complete Southern Edge martial art...
“Which is exactly why it’ll become poison.”
A devilish look spread across Chung Myung’s face before he could hide it.
“It’ll rot slowly if I just leave it alone for now, sure.”
But simply standing by and watching that happen didn’t suit Chung Myung one bit. If he got hit, he hit back. Waiting around and praying for someone’s downfall wasn’t his style.
“You picked the wrong people to mess with.”
Chung Myung’s gaze turned south. Looking at Southern Edge Mountain standing tall in the distance, he clicked his tongue.
“I’ll make sure you pay for daring to touch Hua Mountain without even knowing your debt. Southern Edge Sect.”
And then he swaggered off, heading back toward Eunha Merchant Guild.
But Chung Myung did not know then.
He had thought the chance to punish Southern Edge would come only much, much later—but that opportunity would come far sooner than he ever expected.