Chapter 213
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 213
Chapter Title: Dugu Nine Swords (2)
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After those meaningful opening words.
"But why are you a man?"
The old man shattered my composure with his very first remark.
Both the Heavenly Demon in the Heavenly Demon Cave...
And this old geezer...
Was this martial world some kind of gender-reversed realm?
A proper place where victory hinged on the size of one's qi pouch?
"Men just aren't fun to teach. Can't sneak a grope on their waist or butt."
"......"
Correction.
He was just a crazy lecherous old pervert.
For the sake of upholding justice in the martial world, reclaiming the Northern Bright Secret Record's name, and acquiring the Dugu Nine Swords.
For a fleeting moment, a truly great demon-like thought crossed my mind: should I draw my sword and slice this geezer whose brain was stuffed with nothing but sexual harassment?
"Hmph, who do you think you are?"
Were all the event-area NPCs in this game equipped with mind-reading as a basic skill? The old man smirked mockingly at me, clicking his tongue.
In the past, I would've averted my eyes out of reflex.
But no matter how I looked at it, this old man seemed a tier below me—Geum Sihyeon, the EX-rank Harmony Realm 0-tier all-purpose burst dealer.
Was he appealing to my Eastern courtesy genes for mercy?
The moment that utterly foolish thought surfaced in my head.
Suddenly, the old man drew the sword from his waist.
"Is that so? You see me as just some old man, huh?"
And the instant he swung that sword.
The Frozen Moon Reflection in my mind shattered.
A swing without even a trace of qi.
So utterly simple, straightforward, and monotonous—a single stroke.
Yet.
Even with my eyesight, now worthy of the vainglorious title of Sword King.
I couldn't spot a single flaw in that sword.
No thought of dodging it. No notion of blocking it.
If there was such a thing as a perfect sword strike in this world.
It was that blade.
Until the blade touched my nape, I stood mesmerized, ruminating on the old man's swing.
"Full of openings, all of them."
As the cold edge pressed against my neck, the old man's mocking words rang in my brain.
Naturally, I dropped to my knees.
"I wish to learn the sword from you, old sir."
Only then.
"Should've said that from the start."
Did the old man finally crack a satisfied smile.
After that.
"Stances exist for those warriors who can't survive without clinging to them. But every martial art in the world has stances, and stances have their setups. Why bother with such inefficiency?"
"Because the basics are most important?"
"You idiot. Aren't the Three Stances enough for basics?"
"Hm......"
"That's the loser's theory. A winner debates not what stance to use, but how to dismantle the opponent's."
Every word from the old man strangely struck a chord, felt familiar somewhere, and teetered on the line between plagiarism and homage, probably because it was mod byproducts...
Thwack—!
"Ow!"
The old man had a demonic knack for spotting my stray thoughts and jabbing his scabbard right into my temple.
No qi infused, yet it pierced my protective aura for true damage.
How was that possible?
Were the Dugu Nine Swords that profoundly powerful?
"Too many distractions while discussing sword principles. And you call yourself a swordsman?"
"My apologies."
He wasn't wrong, so I promptly bowed my head to the ground.
"Thus, no stance triumphs over stance. Only by breaking free can a perfect sword be born. A stance is nothing but a heavy weight dulling the blade's edge."
"I see. Then, how does one ascend to the realm of no stance triumphs over stance?"
"Master all the stances of the Dugu Nine Swords."
"......That doesn't quite add up."
"Tsk tsk, that's the profundity of the Dugu Nine Swords."
He'd demonstrated it, so I couldn't disbelieve.
Frankly.
This swordmaster seemed five moves ahead of even our Deputy Leader Weiji Ryang.
If Deputy Leader unleashed his unique mind-image—whatever it was, Martial Return to Basics?—without qi, just pure blocking, he'd probably get utterly demolished by this old man.
"What's a unique mind-image?"
"Uh, something about twisting the world's principles to your will upon reaching Harmony Realm."
"Hmph, you kids these days rely on all sorts of nonsense."
"That hurts..."
I got another knuckle-rap for backtalk.
First taste of humiliation since reaching Flower Realm, but with his scabbard arcs still incomprehensible, I had no choice but to take it.
"Well then, shall we begin training now?"
"Finally!"
I scurried after the old man as he straightened his back.
"Come to think of it, may I ask your esteemed name?"
I finally asked the question I'd been waiting for a chance to voice.
The old man flashed his gold tooth in a grin, like some gacha results screen.
"Dugu Bulpae."
Indeed.
The name alone reeked of the supreme swordsman under heaven.
.
.
.
The moment we arrived at what could be called a training ground.
I felt utterly screwed.
Like the martial world's Excalibur stuck at the entrance of the Northern Bright Secret Record—no, the Sword Mound.
Swords, sabers, spears, axes, three-section staffs, daggers—countless weapons of every kind were stabbed into the ground.
"No way, right?"
"Why not?"
The old man grinned broadly, flashing his gold tooth again.
"As you see, these before you will lead you to the pinnacle of the sword. Give it your all and survive."
With those words, he snatched up a random weapon from the ground.
And charged at me, emanating a perfect unity with the weapon.
Since the Sword Pavilion was founded.
Countless people had tried to draw that sword.
Of course.
Anyone could see it screamed fateful encounter.
A massive rock beneath the Avalokitesvara statue, with a sword embedded so intricately that no one could easily pull it free.
A visual packed with romance that'd make any man's heart—and woman's qi pouch—throb with desire.
However.
No one had ever succeeded.
There was a old tale from ancient times of some brute who failed to draw it but lifted the rock entirely and wandered the rivers and lakes, but...
As if the sword had some homing instinct for stone, it remained the pavilion's famed relic, defying such legends.
However.
"The sword... was drawn?"
"The Sword Mound really exists?"
"Kyaa! So cute...!"
"It could actually be pulled out, for real......"
Today, the women of the Sword Pavilion witnessed a legend.
But there was one difference from the handed-down tales.
"Kyauuuu!"
The legends spoke of a divine bird guardian.
But what appeared was a massive spirit beast wolf, its pure white fur gleaming—the Divine Wolf.
As everyone stared entranced by its majestic form.
The Sword Pavilion's leader.
The Sword Queen stepped forward.
"Divine Wolf, has someone entered the Sword Mound?"
The Divine Wolf—that is, the wolf pup—pondered briefly at her words.
Having grown enormously under the influence of the Heavenly Beast Heart-Returning Art and gorging on Geum Sihyeon's rampant true qi nearby, and being clever to begin with.
It could easily understand human speech.
Soon.
"Kyau, kyau."
Having stuck too close to its master, its fur was snow-white, but its heart pitch-black.
Stoically shaking its head without a change in expression, it thumped its tail against the ground.
If Geum Sihyeon saw, he'd exclaim, "As expected of my wolf pup!"—such natural acting prowess.
The Sword Queen was completely fooled, concluding it was better than assuming an outsider sneaked in at night.
"Then, it means a child within the sect drew the sword."
"Kyau!"
This time, a nod.
At that signal, the Sword Queen turned to face the disciples.
A game of Mafia with no culprit had begun.
The Dugu Nine Swords consisted of nine stances.
Though calling them "stances" felt ambiguous.
The 360 sword forms I'd seen upon entering the Sword Mound were all the essence—and entirety—of the Dugu Nine Swords.
But its core lay in wielding the sword to shatter other martial arts.
Thus, the sequence began with.
Breaking Sword Stance.
Encompassing all variations in one's grasp, refining the ability to dismantle any sword form and strike its flaw.
Then Breaking Saber Stance, Breaking Spear Stance...
And its conclusion.
"Huff, haa, Heart Sword, right? Huff."
"Correct. At its pinnacle, it surpasses no stance triumphs over stance, achieving no sword triumphs over sword—subjugating foes with intent alone."
After hurling a hidden weapon at my brow.
And smoothly plucking a spear aimed at my heart, the old man continued his nonchalant explanation.
"Hmph, you dolt. At your level, you can't even reach that far yet. Still, you handle a sword decently. Who's your master?"
"Ugh, too many, ow, damn it, the strongest in martial arts, ah, I'm talking, stop."
"Weiji Ryang, eh. Never heard of him."
"Just how old, haa, are you?"
"No one's seen me in three hundred years."
Whoa, shit.
The number shocked me so much I nearly took a blade to the shoulder.
.
.
.
"Let's call it here for today."
"......"
Too exhausted to speak, I sprawled starfished on the ground.
I couldn't even recall the last time I'd moved this intensely without qi for so long.
With my body immune to qi-scattering poison anyway, there was no reason to self-impose no-qi restrictions.
"Not bad for a monkey. Train another ten years, and you might become human. Tsk tsk."
"Pardon? Ten years?"
At my retort.
The old man let out his signature chuckle again.
"So you barged into the Sword Mound without that resolve?"