Chapter 209
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 209
Chapter Title: Mountains Under the Sky (3)
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The result of injecting a lethal dose of stimulants straight into the sect leader's meridians.
The tea turning into hard liquor happened in an instant.
"It's been ages since a distinguished guest visited our sect. They say he's a warrior from the distant Mount Tai Sect, so everyone, let's relax and take it easy today."
"Welcome!"
"What's Haedong like? Is there a martial world there too?"
"I heard they suffer from Japanese pirates."
"The Shandong swordsmen must have it rough holding off those pirates."
The sect wasn't all that large to begin with, and with so many disciples out on journeys through the jianghu, there weren't many left. So the people of Mount Tai Sect joined in.
Once again, the East Sea Wanderer Seo Eunhyun found himself swept up in a feast.
Occasionally.
"Seo the hero! Just out of pure curiosity, under that mask—"
There were young disciples who secretly hoped Seo Eunhyun would remove his mask and reveal his true face.
"Out! How dare you ask something like that? Illyang, you still haven't learned your lesson!"
"I'm sorryyy!"
But Cheonkyung, a first-generation disciple who had already witnessed that face—which could easily rack up countless recommendations at the top of the gallery just based on looks alone—stepped in to defend him.
Thanks to that, his hideous mug didn't end up exposed to the world.
Seo Eunhyun let out a sigh of relief from behind his mask as he subtly cast a transformation technique once more.
And as is typical of gatherings where martial artists drink—or rather, savor strong liquor—the conversation inevitably turned to martial arts rather than true song and dance.
"Excuse me, hero! If it's not too rude, could we perhaps exchange a few sword strikes?"
With few visiting worshippers and even fewer wandering martial artists dropping by.
Against Mount Tai Sect warriors whose heroic spirits were boiling over with the desire to at least once block a strike from the sword examiner personally endorsed by their sect leader.
"Haha. How could I possibly compare to the swords of Mount Tai… Still, to refuse such gracious hospitality would make me no gentleman of the Eastern Land of Propriety."
Seo Eunhyun accepted the request readily and without hesitation.
"Since we're at it, I'd love to exchange blows with as many as possible. If I may be so bold, could I start with your second-generation disciples?"
"Primordial Celestial Venerable! Such humility. Mount Tai shall duly honor that intent."
Despite the shady ulterior motives behind Seo Eunhyun's request, to Eulyu the Immortal—who was already smitten—it just looked like the modesty of a fine young man.
And then.
Chaeng!
"I yield!"
Chaeng ping!
"I yield!"
Chaeng ping chang chang!
"I yield!"
Putting on a display reminiscent of shattering dojo stones left and right, Geum Sihyeon generously unleashed his Lesser Formless Art to engrave Mount Tai's swordsmanship into his eyes and brain.
For a thief breaking in to steal, it was downright shameless to snag martial arts knowledge for free on top of it all.
Even more so.
"Woooah! The sect leader wins!"
"Sect leader! Sect leader!"
"Whew, as expected, the swords of Mount Tai reach the heavens...!"
"What humility. Rather, I've learned a thing or two myself."
After all, losses peppered with wins taste far better than straight victories.
Defeating all the second- and first-generation disciples before finally falling to the sect leader himself—that spectacle left an immense impression on the Mount Tai Sect disciples.
It was the kind of performance worthy of someone born with the fate to collapse the Central Plains' economy via Ponzi schemes if he hadn't taken up martial arts.
One.
Two.
Three.
And now.
"I hope everything returns to its proper place..."
The banquet had ripened into full revelry.
"Keuugh..."
"Urgh, uuh..."
"Back to... back to..."
But right now, at this hour.
I was the only one in the entire Mount Tai Sect grounds with my eyes wide open.
What was there to hide?
If not now, then when? I unleashed the poison from my dantian without restraint, blanketing the whole sect in sleep toxin.
A secret art of the Poison Demon, if you will.
Sleepy Gas.
Even.
"Kkyu... rrring..."
No way the poison distinguished friend from foe, so even the mutt lay sprawled on its belly, fast asleep.
Which meant, now.
There was no longer any East Sea Wanderer Seo Eunhyun here.
Only the Jade-Masked Divine Thief remained.
Pouring a cup of liquor into the glass before me and tossing it back with a sip.
"Time to claim it. Eight Desolations Six Harmonies Art."
Not quite top four in the martial world yet, but I dropped a suitably grand line befitting one of the Four Emperors and took my leave.
If there was a reason I'd gone to the trouble of neutralizing my precious poison qi to spread this mass slumber.
"Ugh, what eccentric tastes, old man."
The sect leader's quarters sat near the peak's edge, and right at that edge abutted.
- What's that...?
- It's an altar handed down from our ancestors long ago. We perform rites there for major sect events. Heh heh.
No matter how you sliced it, it screamed "Northern Bright Secret Pavilion entrance trigger"—an altar.
There was no way I could sneak in and out alone without fooling the eyes of the sect leader and every last Mount Tai disciple.
Plus, for some outsider to suddenly cleave their precious ancestor-maintained altar in half and dive inside?
Mount Tai might be so minor it barely warranted a stub on Martial Wiki, but rumors would spread like wildfire regardless.
And wiping out the entire sect? How could Geum Sihyeon, the last conscience of the orthodox factions and future top dog of the righteous path, commit such a atrocity?
.
.
.
"Shit."
Even after briefly shedding my divine title and donning the Poison Demon mantle inherited from my would-be father-in-law.
The Northern Bright Secret Pavilion's reward this time was utter trash.
Eight Desolations Six Harmonies Art, my ass.
I'd assumed it was some supreme fist method letting me explode with mad berserker qi via Asura Tyrant Fist for one-shot kills.
What it actually was.
[Heavenly Eternity Earth Eternal Youth Ever-Spring Art
(天長地久不老長春功)]
The name reeked of scam from the jump.
Of course, traces of the Eight Desolations Six Harmonies mechanism lingered a bit.
Creator's Note: The original name was Eight Desolations Six Harmonies Infant Sole Supreme Art or Heaven Above Earth Below Infant Sole Supreme Art.
'Infant Sole Supreme' in the name? What, elementary school kid martial art?
You gotta mash three cool names for max drip.
Like Black, London, Saga.
But Heavenly Eternity, Earth Eternal, Youth Ever-Spring? Boring, pretentious, zero edge.
Fine, whatever, name's not everything.
"Cultivate from infancy, and every thirty years the body sheds automatically, revealing a new one... Keeps reverting to youth, staying forever robust..."
Why restart my martial life from RE:Infancy when I could just snap into Flower Realm and Reverse Aging in one go?
Not even maintaining youth indefinitely.
Best spin I can put on it: Luri status through Moyong Seol to Seo Dohee evolution, then back to Luri.
...Three flavors?
Tempting, kinda.
Anyway, not worth my time learning.
If I'd started with this, maybe.
"Still gotta snag it."
Live long enough, and sooner or later you'll wanna try shotacon play—
"No, fuck, what am I even thinking?"
Slap!
I smacked my cheek hard.
Moyong Seol's pervy vibes might've rubbed off on me.
Back off! Age-gap shota!
Don't stick your fingers in my soul!
Grabbed the other poison pill to offset the Sleepy Gas I'd sprayed, swallowed it whole.
Nothing on Thousand Silken Black Dragon Robe, but snagged a sleekly designed, tough outer robe woven from some spider spirit's threads too.
"Hmm..."
Fell into brief contemplation.
One reward left.
Was gonna grab a treasured sword, but utility-wise, no need to swap weapons.
Treasured sword, treasured sword.
This oughta count as a parting gift from East Sea Wanderer Seo Eunhyun.
The righteous conscience whispered as much.
Anything else? Hmm.
Still, owed 'em one, so maybe leave something behind.
"Mm... When did I fall asleep?"
Feeling the sharp sunlight stabbing his eyes, Okeul the Immortal savored that unique refreshment of waking from deep slumber.
First time in years he'd slept like this.
And he realized anew.
How beautiful the world looks after a solid night's rest.
Might be from overdoing the hard liquor last night, but Okeul the Immortal harbored no regrets.
His gaze drifted out the window.
"Hm...?"
Something anomalous caught his eye.
The sect's altar, which had always stood there like the Primordial Celestial Venerable, exuding dignified presence.
Now it glimmered with auspicious light.
Drawn like a moth to flame, Okeul the Immortal left his quarters and dashed toward it.
And there.
"Hm...?"
Lay a single sword and a single book.
A blade so razor-sharp it looked like it'd slice paper laid atop it without effort—clearly a treasure beyond compare.
And.
"Th-this...?!"
Eulyu the Immortal's voice trembled fiercely.
He promptly sat right there and began reading the book.
"Sect leader, what are you doing here?"
"Sect leader, lunch is ready."
"Sect leader? Seems the East Sea Wanderer has left."
Disciples occasionally came calling, but it felt like not a sound reached his ears.
Mount Tai Sect's signature sword art.
Falling霞 Ninety-Nine Sword.
A swordsmanship of ninety-nine forms modeled after the sun's descent.
Due to its notorious complexity, even as sect leader, he'd never fully mastered it.
Moreover, the true transcendent art, Falling Sun Sword Art, had been lost to time.
Mount Tai Sect's declining fortunes weren't unrelated.
But.
Spanning fifty pages, a hundred sides.
Each page recorded one form of the Falling Sunset Ninety-Nine Sword, complete with meticulous annotations.
And on the very last page.
"Mount Tai stands lofty, yet 'tis but a hill beneath heaven's sky; climb and climb again, no peak beyond reach, yet man falters, blaming the mountain's height..."
Last night.
A poem akin in form to the verse that East Sea Wanderer had recited to him, plus.
A single form: the ninety-nine distilled and honed to extremity, with its incantation and notes.
Mount Tai looms high.
Yet like no mountain surpasses heaven, Mount Tai too can be reached by human hands.
If Mount Tai yields thus, how could heaven—or the sun soaring high above—lie beyond mortal grasp?
Sudden enlightenment surged.
Okeul the Immortal drew the sword from his belt.
And.
Swing it he did.
In that instant.
The sun fell from the sky. Falling Sun.
"Heh heh, heh heh heh...! Primordial Celestial Venerable, Primordial Celestial Venerable...!"
Okeul the Immortal could only chant his exclamation.
And reflect on yesterday's fateful encounter.
Whether East Sea Wanderer, masked mystery, passing sage, or immortal cultivator.
It mattered no more.
Simply.
The man who gifted him the path to unravel arcane martial lore, fulfilling Mount Tai Sect's long-held wish with that single ray of insight.
Toward the East, toward Haedong.
Okeul the Immortal bowed in deep prostration.
His head lingered long against the ground.