Chapter 64
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Sword Emperor (1)
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Taat!
In the wide open space of the annex, Taejin and Cheol-ho were locked in a fierce spar that felt like real combat. After morning training when their bodies had warmed up sufficiently, they would engage in these matches.
Poof!
Every time Cheol-ho swung his fist, it formed a fist aura and let out a sharp whoosh of air. At some point, his strikes naturally carried qi, amplifying their power. In terms of destructive force alone, no one his age could match him.
Swoosh, paat!
Even against such dangerous punches, Taejin's responses were remarkably swift and near-perfect. He stood his ground when needed and retreated fluidly when appropriate, showing impressive flexibility. He held his own even in clashes of raw power.
Before the punches could explode at precise vital points, he unleashed sword qi to disrupt their momentum. Then, he focused his sword force to shift the exchange into a contest of internal energy.
"That won't work twice!"
Learning from his previous defeat, Cheol-ho read Taejin's moves and closed the distance. Sword qi flew everywhere, making retreat the sensible choice, but trusting his new greaves and hand wraps, he stubbornly pressed forward to create an opening for his strikes.
Controlling his angle to corner Taejin, Cheol-ho lunged like a wild beast and unleashed his punch. Sensing the danger, Taejin instinctively spun, adjusting his sword path to scatter the blow, but the impact still accumulated.
Despite his internals shaking from the shock, Taejin charged even more aggressively. Failing to seize the moment would lead straight to defeat.
Taejin didn't back down from Cheol-ho's reckless assault and countered fiercely. Giving ground here would make a comeback nearly impossible. Better to overwhelm with superior internal energy, even if it meant pushing too hard.
Kwaaaang!
The collision between the thirteen- and sixteen-year-olds unleashed destructive power beyond belief, cratering the center of the open space. Pushed back by each other's force, Cheol-ho and Taejin tumbled across the ground.
"That last attack was dangerous, hyung!"
"Damn it, you sneaky bastard!"
Bridging the gap in internal energy in a short time was no easy feat. It was like filling a bucket with water, pouring and pouring until it overflowed.
But there was no need to stick rigidly to the orthodox path in everything. With help from others, spirit herbs, or elixirs, one could shorten the process dramatically.
"You did well this time. Much better than a few days ago."
"I don't need your pity. I'll definitely knock you down."
Fine, he could be obsessed with winning. But it wasn't like he'd committed a crime—this was going too far.
"Why pick on me only? If you're that upset, go complain to Father!"
"...You little shit, trying to get me killed!"
Why did words like that always come out?
But it wasn't wrong. Complaining to Father would never work. If he didn't get beaten just for saying it, he'd count himself lucky. Even as his own father, Mujin allowed no complacency. The moment you let your guard down, disaster was guaranteed.
"It wasn't luck after all."
Taejin and Cheol-ho turned to the guy watching their match from the veranda. It was Nangong Hyun, the swordsman who had advanced to the semifinals of the Little Dragon Tournament. He'd been reflecting on his loss and immersing himself in training, finally coming to the annex upon hearing Taejin and Cheol-ho were there.
"I'll win next time."
"Me again?"
Taejin's head throbbed at Nangong Hyun's burning competitive spirit. Winning the Little Dragon Tournament was one thing, but this was excessive. If it were the New Dragon Tournament for those over twenty, he might become a sworn enemy.
"Perfect timing. But not against my son."
Taejin let out a deep sigh of relief at his father's appearance—he'd slept until noon inside the annex. Somehow, he'd managed to make enemies on all sides.
"You lot suit being number two. Number one is for me and my son. Anyway, no lunch? The sun's high in the sky."
Mujin thoroughly crushed the budding seedlings. Even his own son wouldn't be spared if he eyed his position—a hint of possessive greed shone through.
Thud!
For the incomprehensible Nangong Hyun, Mujin spun him three times in the air with a casual gesture.
Gasp!
Forced into aerial acrobatics, Nangong Hyun returned to his spot, but his mind was left floating. He barely regained his senses, still staring at Mujin in disbelief.
"Don't believe it?"
Nod, nod!
Nangong Hyun nodded unconsciously. But he shouldn't have. Mujin didn't let young sprouts grow peacefully. He preferred trampling them before they bloomed.
Whoosh!
Up into the air again. This time, ten zhang high before plummeting. He stopped just before smashing into the ground like a drunkard's vomit.
"Father, enough already!"
"It's tense and fun."
"He's gonna piss his pants."
"No way the prized son of the Nangong family. Though not as good as my boy, of course."
"Stop dragging me into this!"
Why turn an innocent bystander into public enemy number one?
Taejin wondered if he'd end up on the continent's most-wanted list. And he vowed never to travel with his father.
'What is this?'
Nangong Hyun couldn't believe it.
One could perform Air Grasping at the thirty-year cycle realm of internal energy. But levitating a person was a whole different level. Especially someone trained in martial arts like him. A slight disruption in control would shatter the technique. Yet not only was it undisturbed—he was utterly suppressed, unable to move.
'Is this even possible?'
Did such a human exist?
Right in front of him.
Nangong Hyun felt like he was dreaming. Even his grandfather wouldn't use such a feat casually. Sure, he could if he wanted, but it wasted energy. What an inefficient stunt.
A hermit master...? No way.
Someone this flashy? Ridiculous. Rejuvenation then? But his background was well-documented. The family wouldn't let just anyone into the annex.
Speaking of which, Oseongwon was a top-tier annex reserved for esteemed guests.
Who the hell was this guy?
"Your faith is lacking."
"I believe you!"
Disbelieve again, and it might be a hundred zhang drop next.
Nangong Hyun answered immediately.
"Don't end up like your sister."
"Pardon?"
Speak of the tiger, and she appears—Nangong Yeon-hwa arrived. She'd adjusted the distance so she probably hadn't heard, yet she snapped right away.
"Don't bully my little brother."
"When did I bully him?"
"You used Air Grasping or Threefold Flame, right?"
"...How'd you know?"
Fiery temper, but sharp as a tack.
Unlike the surprised Mujin, it was simple deduction for Nangong Yeon-hwa. This guy showed off when asked, crushed doubt with overwhelming force. One look at her brother's ghost-struck face, and she knew the estimate.
That's just what he does.
"Money?"
"Do I look like a walking wallet to you? It's always money, money, money!"
"What else would I want from you?"
"You heartless bastard!"
"Watch your mouth, young lady past her prime."
Treat her like a woman before scolding!
Regardless, Mujin drew lines around everyone but his woman. Better to block issues before they arose.
Don't tie your shoes under a plum tree—avoid misunderstandings from the start for an easier life. If someone clung determinedly, trouble might ensue, but...
'Better to beat them dead than deal with grudges.'
—End of same-school quote.
Mujin wasn't one to labor over clearing misunderstandings. Frame him if they dared. But they'd die without fail. Explanations? Why bother. The strong didn't explain; the weak had to figure it out.
Or die.
"What brings you here?"
"He says he'll give you the money you like."
"Music to my ears."
"Grandfather wants to see you first."
"A warrior's competitive spirit. Tsk tsk tsk!"
"Watch your mouth!"
The payment for Mujin was ten wan nyang in gold. An unimaginable sum. Even the Nangong family had to strain to gather it. It was a bit excessive, but fair.
He'd saved the Nangong family from scandal and the Sword Emperor's life. Ten wan wasn't too much—hell, not even one nyang, considering his antics.
Donate it to the Beggars' Sect instead!
At least he'd hear the news faster.
"Today's fresh beef wasn't great. Quality dropped a lot. Put more care into it."
"Is this your house?"
"You told me to make myself at home."
"Even so."
He really treated it like his own home. If he lacked tact, maybe, but surprisingly quick on the uptake. Yet he ignored it. What good was presence if he turned a blind eye?
"Not much, but I'll add it to our shopping fund."
"Die!"
Nangong Hyun gaped at his sister and Mujin's bickering. He never imagined someone could strip away the "Great Lotus" facade so easily.
'Only in front of me, huh.'
As a brother with a sister, he got it. Taejin and Cheol-ho, clueless, just stared blankly.
'...It's not just the face.'
'Still, that's something.'
She wouldn't show when he wanted to see, but called when he planned to leave—what was that about?
Human psychology was truly bizarre.
Before meeting the Sword Emperor, he saw the Sword Commander first. Thought he was cold, but he cared for his father. Acted indifferent, but granted requests surprisingly. Even believed his daughter's wild tales.
This guy.
A bit annoying.
The Sword Commander handed over ten nyang in gold and a bill of exchange.
'Good man.'
No reluctance despite the sum. Confidence he could recoup it with a year's effort. Compared to mid-tier sects, his magnanimity shone. Money wasn't everything, but it preserved dignity. Without it, life turned shabby.
"I'll use it well."
"Do as you like. But can you keep some boundaries?"
"I'll try, moderately."
"Not what I meant."
Mujin didn't ignore the sincerity of the ten nyang gold with the bill. A verbal request alone might have embarrassed the Sword Emperor. "Raised kids who only care about money." He decided to respect the Sword Commander's filial piety.
"Deeper filial piety than appearances suggest."
"Ahem, no nonsense."
"If you don't express it, no one knows. Show it while he's alive."
"Words once spoken can't be unsaid."
The Sword Commander disliked this uncharacteristic situation. The man before him matched his daughter's description.
Strong in martial arts, but materialistic.
Yet Mujin's strength transcended norms. Age, lineage, origins—all shrouded. Even a hidden master couldn't explain that absurd power.
"Satisfied with money?"
"Double it, and I'll show more. Ten forms or so."
"Enough joking. The main family could back Pine Tiger Sect."
"Sect matters need Father's approval."
"Wait."
Seeing him demand only wealth, the Sword Commander furrowed his brow. Seemed to draw a line, no need for Nangong aid. But as family head, pride alone wouldn't do.
Dark forces sprouted like poison mushrooms across the continent. Peace now, but could erupt anytime. For the future, ties with Mujin were essential.
The Sword Commander went with Mujin to see his father.
Hoo.
The Sword Emperor's eyes lit up at Mujin. A hazy memory lingered. One he wished to forget, another that kept surfacing.
An odd sensation. Familiar, yet not. He'd treated him earnestly, so familiarity made sense. But unease too.
'The old man's no slouch.'
The sickly visage was gone, replaced by a dignified white-haired elder with a piercing gaze. A true transformation, like shedding bones and exchanging tendons.
But appearances didn't impress Mujin. People weren't just looks; for warriors, substance mattered.
'Just a shell after all.'
He hadn't thought much of the Divine Twenty-One Strong. Just a bigger frog in the well. But the restored Sword Emperor was unexpectedly solid and firm.
-Worthy of killing.
'Yeah.'
Now he understood starting with the Demonic Cult's top Divine Twenty-One. No idea the Sword Emperor's full extent, but at least a hurdle. As a focal point, rallying power, he'd match the former War King.
The Sword Emperor cupped his hands.
"I owe you my life."
"I acted out of righteousness. All follows its course—your destiny, Sword Emperor."
He didn't believe in fate, but plausible bullshit flowed easily. Proving it, the Sword Commander and Nangong Yeon-hwa were speechless. Never imagined Mujin speaking so normally.
'Why those faces? Think I'm some rude punk who disrespects elders?'
-Yes.
Treat as elder with fifty-plus year gap.
Below that, peers.
At fifty, friends up to ninety-nine. Within half a century, friends across ages.
-Adding future age too?
'Subtract then?'
Current age with wife, future age with peers—fitting logic. My love, their affair; world's way.
"Destiny, how bitter."
Mujin's musing broke at the Sword Emperor's self-deprecation.
Hazy memory or not, a Sword Emperor would piece together context. No genius reached that realm foolishly.
Absolute masters were usually sharp.
Right?
-No.
'Shut up.'
The Sword Emperor looked sorrowful.
His eldest was a sore spot. Back then, he'd comforted with "for the family." It was natural. Heirs must be the best. Was that why? Despite the lost arm and wandering return, no warm words. Expected time to heal.