Ghost or Monster
Whooooom.
Power like a river coursed through his body.
The purest, clearest, most immaculate energy in the world flowed along his major meridians, spread through the eight extraordinary channels, and finally began to fill every last minor channel in his body without leaving a single one untouched.
“Hah.”
In. Out.
Circulating and absorbing was the process of drawing in external qi through the breath and refining it into internal energy suited to one’s own martial arts before storing it away.
The energy filling Chung Myung’s body rode the current of Zixia Divine Art and spun through him. The utterly clear and limpid qi built up through Yukhapgong, and the external energy absorbed through the Honwon Dan and Jaso-dan.
Though he had purified them again and again, the three currents that had still not fully merged began to be drawn little by little into the flow of the purple haze.
At first, it was only a stream no bigger than a brook.
But it was so clean, so crystalline, that merely letting it run through his body seemed enough to cleanse every impurity from his flesh and carry Chung Myung one step higher.
One circuit, then another.
Each time the energy flowed through his body, the brook swelled a little more. Soon it had become a great river, rolling forward in majestic abundance.
This violet river would grow still larger in the future. One day it would become a vast great river, and after that, a great sea. In time, it would spread across the world like a purple sunset staining the very sky.
“Hoo.”
At last, after finishing his breathing exercise, Chung Myung let out a long exhale. He wiped the sweat from his face, his expression oddly strange.
“This is… seriously amazing.”
He shot a sideways glance upward.
“No, really—how long were you planning to hoard something this good all to yourself? Where’d your conscience go, huh?”
- You little bastard! I told you to learn it! Huh? Agh, damn it…!
“Yeah, yeah, shut up.”
Waving his hand dismissively, Chung Myung propped up his chin and fell into thought.
Should’ve just learned it sooner.
Zixia Divine Art was unquestionably extraordinary.
At the very least, it could draw out an efficiency no less than half a grade higher than the Zixia Qi Skill that had once given him the title of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. It was absolutely strong enough to contend for the throne of the number-one divine art under heaven.
People said Shaolin’s Muscle-Tendon and Marrow-Cleansing Classic, Wudang’s Upper Pure Taiji Divine Art, and the Yinyang Boundless Divine Art all competed for the title of best in the world, but there was no doubt this Zixia Divine Art would not be left far behind.
“Tch. The problem is…”
Scratching his head furiously, Chung Myung let out a long sigh.
Every martial art had its own characteristics.
That was only natural. A supreme art representing a sect was bound to contain the qualities most suitable to expressing that sect’s martial path.
Of course, Zixia Divine Art was also shaped in a way most appropriate for unleashing Mount Hua’s martial arts. Simply changing Mount Hua disciples over to it would make them at least half a grade stronger, regardless of their level of mastery.
That was how extraordinary it was. It was powerful enough to make him wonder whether it was really all right to spread such a strong art without restriction, like some old fogey worrying over the future.
The problem was not the Zixia Divine Art.
The problem was Chung Myung.
“Damn, that’s a shame.”
Chung Myung’s internal energy was made of the purest qi under heaven. It still wasn’t completely immaculate, since the energies of the Jaso-dan and the Honwon Dan had not yet been fully unified, but he was steadily increasing the proportion of the purest energy bit by bit.
To unify all of that internal energy under Zixia Divine Art?
“He’d get absurdly stronger right away.”
He would be able to merge internal energy that could not mix on its own and use it properly at last. And since he could then operate that energy through Zixia Divine Art itself, there was no need to even explain how efficient that would be.
But if he did that, then inevitably the color of Chung Myung’s energy would begin to be stained. It meant that the purifying quality of his qi would have no choice but to become ordinary to some extent.
“Tch… so that’s how it is?”
Until now, there had been no real problem.
Arts like Plum Blossom Art, Seven Star Art, or Yukhapgong were not overly complicated to wield, so Chung Myung could simply overwhelm them. That was why he had been able to preserve the unique quality of his qi even while using those divine arts.
But Zixia Divine Art was on a different level. No matter how much of a monster Chung Myung was, it would be hard to maintain both the overwhelming power of Zixia Divine Art and the purity of his qi at the same time. In the end, he would have to choose one.
What should I do?
Resting his chin in his hand, Chung Myung sank into thought.
If he kept raising the proficiency of Zixia Divine Art like this, then one day all of his internal energy would be dyed in its color.
Of course, that wasn’t necessarily bad. In the past, Chung Myung had become the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and reached the practical pinnacle of the world’s swordsmanship with nothing but the Zixia Qi Skill. Add Zixia Divine Art to that, along with everything he had experienced and the foundation he had built to a degree far greater than before, and he could become at least twice as strong as he once had been.
Twice the Plum Blossom Sword Saint.
That was a realm the old Chung Myung could never even have imagined. It was clear proof that everything he had done since being reborn had not been wrong. So it was more than fair to call it an extremely satisfying result.
But…
“Still wouldn’t beat Heavenly Demon, and that’s the problem.”
Chung Myung’s face twisted sharply.
That damned bastard had been the source of every problem. Becoming twice as strong wouldn’t make it possible to face Heavenly Demon. That bastard wasn’t human.
What do I do?
If he simply kept learning Zixia Divine Art as it was, he would grow stronger in a stable way. That would be laying a foundation. No matter how badly it went, he would absolutely become more than twice as strong as he had been in the past, and depending on how hard he worked, he might even aim higher than that.
But… if he moved in a direction that could preserve both Zixia Divine Art and the unique quality of his own internal energy?
That was essentially the same as removing the foundation altogether.
One wrong step, and he could even lose the advantages of Zixia Divine Art. If he was unlucky, he might not even be able to reclaim the realm he had once reached in the past. That was what broken martial arts did.
But…
“If it succeeds…”
It would be the realm of dreams.
It might become the very clue that let him grasp the shadow of Heavenly Demon—a shadow so distant that he had never even dared to look at it properly.
“Grrr. It’s either a jackpot or total trash…”
Chung Myung scratched through his long hair with irritated hands, ruffling it into a mess.
“Damn it all! Why the hell is this so complicated? If I got my hands on a good martial art, shouldn’t I just learn it and get stronger? Why the hell do I have so much to think about?”
After tormenting his head as though he might pull out his own hair, Chung Myung finally tipped over onto his side while still sitting cross-legged.
Thud.
“Hnnng.”
Arms folded, lying on his side, Chung Myung stared blankly into the air for a moment before letting out a snort of laughter.
“I’ve really grown up a lot.”
Calling twice the Plum Blossom Sword Saint a failure.
“If I’d only been twice as strong back then…”
Then Mount Hua might not have fallen. He could have saved more of his martial brothers, and the odds were high that Chung Myung himself would not have died.
Then Mount Hua, having blocked Heavenly Demon, would have ruled the jianghu as the number-one sect in the world, backed by the reputation of having stopped him and by the power of the world’s greatest swordsman, Chung Myung.
Yes… that too was not a bad result.
But…
Still staring at that imagined scene, Chung Myung gave a bitter smile.
“As if that’d be enough.”
Die a little, survive a little, and only those left behind get to enjoy the glory? Who in the world would be happy with half-baked glory like that?
This time, he wouldn’t leave even a single grain behind.
Sand in your hand will just slip through your fingers?
What a load of crap.
If he couldn’t stop it with his hands, then he’d just wrap it tightly in cloth. And if that still didn’t work, he’d smear it with mud and bake it if he had to—but no matter what, he had no intention of letting go of a single person who had fallen into his grasp.
“Well, what choice do I have?”
Then he’d just have to push himself a little.
Chung Myung turned his gaze and looked at the mound that rose suddenly from the ground.
“What? Looks like madness?”
There was no answer.
“If I were my old self, I wouldn’t do something like this. Martial arts aren’t gambling. You build them steadily, step by step.”
If any other Mount Hua disciple had made this choice, he would have smashed the bastard’s head in on the spot.
“But… I can do it now.”
Chung Myung looked over the scenery of Mount Hua.
At present, it would be slower than steadily learning Zixia Divine Art. But with time, he could go further. And the part that he himself could not fill by becoming stronger…
His gaze moved to the Mount Hua disciples sweating at the Great Martial Training Ground. Not a single one of them was sloppy in his movements, even though no one stood over them to bark orders.
A faint smile appeared on Chung Myung’s lips.
“…The parts I can’t fill myself, those bastards will fill for me. I don’t totally trust them, but I guess they can manage that much.”
- The martial brothers of old look a thousand times better than you ever did.
“You little shit?”
Chung Myung lifted a foot as if to kick the mound clean over, then quietly lowered it again.
“Tch. Yeah, well, not exactly wrong.”
He straightened himself and sat up properly once more.
In the past, he had not trusted his martial brothers.
He had never once thought that they would take the place of what he could not do. To him, martial brothers were people he had to protect, not people who protected him.
But the current Chung Myung was different. He could entrust his back to the martial brothers of the present, weak though they were compared to the disciples of old.
“So then…”
Resolve settled into his eyes.
“Let’s give it a shot. Ghost or monster, let’s see which one comes out.”
Slowly, Chung Myung began to contemplate the inside of himself.
The foundation would be Zixia Divine Art.
He had already transformed Plum Blossom Sword Manual through his own interpretation and passed it down to Mount Hua. But this was a different matter.
Unlike the Plum Blossom Sword Manual, this had to be a martial art created solely for Chung Myung.
Something no other Mount Hua disciple could learn, and should not learn.
A divine art that, as Cheong Jin had said, could not be handed down to later generations—something meant only for Chung Myung and no one else.
If I had to name it, then maybe Zixia Chung Myung Divine Art…
- No way!
- Don’t do it! You bastard!
“Wow, damn.”
No, they were really going off at him. Like the name mattered that much!
…Well, to be honest, it is kind of trashy.
Then he’d decide on the name later.
Chung Myung took a deep breath.
This isn’t something I can just make up recklessly.
He had to minimize the damage he’d take right now while broadening the possibilities that stretched ahead of him as much as possible.
He didn’t need to walk a perfectly fixed path. Tomorrow’s Chung Myung would be stronger and better than today’s Chung Myung.
So this divine art should grow together with Chung Myung.
Don’t aim for perfection.
Perfection was the absence of possibility. What he needed to choose was not immediate perfection, but a future that could endlessly spread outward.
Slowly, he sank inward.
Quietly, and then more quietly still.
As he gradually began to harmonize with nature, the mountain birds that had been flitting busily overhead came down to rest on his shoulders, folding their tired wings.
The sun climbed to its zenith, then red sunset painted the sky again, and even as the dark night colored the world, Chung Myung’s closed eyes did not open once more.
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