Chapter 39: First Young Master Cheol Gun (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 39: First Young Master Cheol Gun (1)
Cheol Gun’s brow twitched for a fleeting second. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, his expression returning to its usual mask of indifference.
“Are you not curious?”
“I am not.”
“And why is that?”
“Because no one my age can defeat me.”
“Arrogant, aren’t you?”
“I prefer to call it confidence.”
“Heh, that’s more like you.”
Cheol Mu-jin chuckled, clearly amused.
“Three days from now, a duel will be held in front of the Hall of Blessed Transformation. Make sure you are there.”
“Grandfather.”
“The time is the Hour of the Monkey.”
“Grandfather! I was planning on resting for a while. You might not know this, but I still have a mountain of work to do…”
“If you defeat him, I will give you the Six Inns.”
“…!”
Cheol Gun froze, his gaze snapping to Cheol Mu-jin.
It was a condition he had never even considered. The Six Inns were the six most prosperous establishments in the northeast, all managed by the Golden Martial Association. Handing them over meant granting him control over the vast majority of the income from the entire northeastern region.
For Cheol Gun, who was currently struggling after his father had cut off his funding, this was incredible news.
“In exchange, if you lose, you must enter secluded cultivation until both your Iron Ridge Hegemon Divine Art and Blood Cloud Demon Shadow Cut reach the seventh stage.”
“…”
“Well? Is it not a wager worth taking?”
Cheol Mu-jin studied Cheol Gun’s face. His grandson’s complexion had shifted; the proposal had clearly piqued his interest.
“The way you speak, it sounds as if you’ve brought the Little Divine Monk of Shaolin or the Taiji Sword Seal of Wudang.”
“He is no less than them.”
“…!”
The Little Divine Monk and the Taiji Sword Seal.
They were the ones hailed as the greatest among the Rising Stars in the entire martial world. Of course, people also spoke of the Five Dragons—Cheol Gun himself, Yu Yeok-gil of Mount Hua, Namgung Jin of the Namgung Family, Peng Seo-ju of the Hebei Peng Family, and Su Su-rin of the Samu Alliance—as the peak of the younger generation.
However, the reality was that the Little Divine Monk and the Taiji Sword Seal were secretly ranked above the Five Dragons. Such was the weight and influence of the names Shaolin and Wudang.
“You seem very confident, Grandfather.”
Cheol Gun tilted his head back and laughed. There wasn't a trace of tension to be found in his posture.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have made the offer if I wasn’t.”
“I suppose so. But Grandfather, you’ve made a big mistake this time.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Because if I take all the inns in the northeast, Father’s blood pressure is going to skyrocket.”
“Isn’t that only if you win?”
“Ah, now that I think about it, you’re right. Hahaha!”
Cheol Gun laughed, running a hand through his hair. An unidentifiable, sharp momentum was embedded in his laughter. Stopping abruptly, he spoke again.
“I’ll do it.”
“A wise decision.”
“Then, may I take my leave?”
“Wait. Are you not even curious about which sect the boy belongs to?”
“Will knowing that help me in any way?”
“It might.” Cheol Mu-jin spoke without hesitation. “The boy is a Taoist of the Qingcheng Sect.”
“Pardon?”
“I said he is a Taoist of the Qingcheng Sect.”
“Qingcheng… the Qingcheng Sect?”
Cheol Gun’s calm eyebrows furrowed. His brow wrinkled and his eyes narrowed. It was a name he had never expected to hear.
“See? I told you it would be helpful.”
“…”
“Now, leave.”
Cheol Mu-jin gestured dismissively and turned his back, signaling the end of the conversation.
The laughter vanished from Cheol Gun’s face as he stood. With a cold, sharp expression, he gave a polite bow and walked out.
Slide.
At the sound of the door closing, Cheol Mu-jin didn't look back, but the corners of his mouth curled into a smirk.
‘Things are about to get interesting.’
*
Once outside, Cheol Gun let out a sharp whistle. A man emerged from the darkness—the same subordinate who had appeared before the pavilion earlier.
“Where are they?”
“Who do you mean, Young Master?”
“The ones who came with my grandfather.”
At those words, Shin Hyeong bowed low.
“They are at the Water Guest Pavilion. I was just about to tell you—?”
When the man raised his head, Cheol Gun was already gone. He had vanished from sight in an instant.
“As expected…!”
Shin Hyeong let out a trembling breath and began to chase after the vanished Young Master.
*
Cheol So-yeon sat by the window, gazing up at the sky.
Whenever a full moon rose, she found herself sitting here. The moonlight filtering through the lush branches harmonized with the artificial pond and the stone pagodas, creating a beautiful, poetic atmosphere.
“Why are you keeping your eyes closed?”
“Because I believe opening them would be improper.”
“What does that mean?”
“Since I was young, I was taught the etiquette one must show to others. There may be a black cloth covering the window, but one can never be too sure. If I were to unintentionally see something I shouldn't, you would be greatly offended. That is why I am traveling with my eyes closed.”
“Etiquette, my foot. Now of all times?”
Cheol So-yeon grumbled to herself, feeling a surge of irritation.
He was a fellow who acted entirely as he pleased. He made ridiculous, stubborn arguments and picked fights he couldn't possibly win. Aside from having a decent face, there wasn't a single thing about him she liked.
And yet, he was confident.
Even though he was a man with so little pride that he had compared himself to a fish, his actions were incredibly dignified. That was what bothered her most.
“Ugh… thinking about it just puts me in a bad mood.”
She climbed down from the window and lay on her bed, intending to set aside her complicated thoughts and sleep. But sleep remained elusive. Today’s events kept flickering through her mind.
Perhaps it was because she had seen such a sight for the first time. Not just among youths his age, but among all the men she had ever met, there had never been anyone bold enough to challenge her grandfather to a duel.
“Phew… I should just go practice.”
Getting out of bed, she changed her clothes and headed outside. When her mind was this cluttered, martial arts was the only remedy. She headed toward the training ground near her quarters.
Scrape, scrape, scrape.
‘What is that sound?’
Someone was sharpening a sword. As she walked further, a familiar boy came into view.
“Cheol Won.”
“Huh? Sister!”
The boy stopped and greeted Cheol So-yeon. She asked him why he was out so late.
“Oh, I’m sharpening my sword.”
“Why the sword?”
“Because I have to put my heart into it.”
“Put your heart into it?” Cheol So-yeon didn't immediately understand.
“That mister told me. He said a sword contains dreams. It contains family and hope, too. So, he said I must treat it more preciously than anything else.”
“…”
Cheol So-yeon stared at Cheol Won, bewildered. It was an absurd sentiment, but it wasn't exactly wrong, either.
“Where is that mister now?”
“In the room over there…” Cheol Won pointed toward a pavilion beyond the gate.
The Water Guest Pavilion—the room where that fellow was staying.
“Did he ask anything of you?” Cheol So-yeon asked, her suspicion rising.
“What?”
“Like asking you to show him your martial arts.”
Cheol Won was still young. Cheol So-yeon thought it was entirely possible that the man might try to coax the boy into revealing the Golden Martial Association’s secret techniques.
“No. Instead, he told me not to practice swordsmanship in places where people can see me.”
“Why…?”
“He said swordsmanship isn't something to be shown to others. Doing so is the same as exposing your own weaknesses.”
“He really said that?”
“Yeah.”
“What does that mister look like?”
“I don't really remember,” the boy said with a smile.
Cheol So-yeon’s expression hardened. She looked toward the Water Guest Pavilion with a strange glint in her eyes.
“Ah, I remember now.” As Cheol So-yeon turned away, Cheol Won spoke with a grin. “He’s really handsome. Just like Brother Cheol Gun.”
“…”
She barely acknowledged the boy's words. She climbed over the wall surrounding the training ground and walked toward the pavilion. It wasn't that she specifically intended to see him; her feet had simply led her there.
*
‘What was that?’
Seok Myeong, who had been immersed in meditation while leaning against a wall, snapped his eyes open. He had reacted instinctively to something pricking his senses.
There was no visible change. The moonlight still bathed the courtyard, and a cool breeze blew. Except for the fact that someone who had let their presence slip was now standing directly above his head.
“Greetings.”
The figure standing on the eaves descended naturally. It was a young man with hair so long it partially obscured his clothes.
“Who are you?”
“Cheol Gun. It will be easier for you to understand if I say that Cheol Mu-jin, the man who brought you here, is my grandfather.”
Seok Myeong focused his gaze on the man. He was overflowing with composure. For a moment, Seok Myeong felt a sense of daze.
‘He’s a master.’
The light of qi in the man's eyes shimmered in the darkness, as sharp as the eyes of a nocturnal beast. Furthermore, his aura was half-hidden, making it difficult to even estimate its depth.
“I’ve introduced myself, so now it’s your turn.”
Acting with utter disregard for social niceties, he pressed Seok Myeong. Only then did Seok Myeong snap out of it and offer a polite fist-and-palm salute.
“I am Seok Myeong. I hail from the Qingcheng Sect.”
“So it was you after all?”
Shring!
Seok Myeong’s brow furrowed at the sudden sound of metal. The opponent had drawn his sword without warning.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“I wonder. What could it be?”
The young man remained relaxed. His actions, movements, and tone—the leisure exuded from him was not a facade, but the truth of his power. However, his actions were the polar opposite of that leisure.
He took a step forward.
“If we’re going to duel anyway, I figured we might as well get it over with quickly.”
“…!”
Flash!
Cheol Gun lunged forward without hesitation. Seok Myeong hurriedly drew his sword, but Cheol Gun was already upon him. Seok Myeong had no choice but to crouch and roll to dodge the blade.
“This is just the beginning.”
As Seok Myeong spun around and took a stance, the man thrust his sword again. In that instant, over a foot of Sword Aura erupted from the tip of his blade, blanketing Seok Myeong’s vision.
“Hah!”
Seok Myeong also thrust his sword, imbuing it with Sword Aura. It was a foot and a half of energy. The two Sword Auras collided head-on.
Boom!
“Ugh!”
The powerful recoil sent Seok Myeong flying backward. The aftermath of the massive collision caused a nearby wall to crumble and collapse. Seok Myeong stood up unsteadily from the debris.
“What? You’re nothing special.”
The mocking Cheol Gun didn't stop. A foot and a half of Sword Aura poured toward Seok Myeong, curving like a lethal wave.
Tap, tap, tap!
Seok Myeong stepped on the pillars of the half-collapsed building to climb upward. After smashing through the roof, he soared into the air, making an even larger leap. In that moment, the building beneath his feet was shattered to pieces.
Crash!
“…!”
But Cheol Gun did not stop. As if he had anticipated the move, he unleashed his Sword Aura once more.
“Blood Flash Light Hammer!”
Along with a halo of red light, the Sword Aura rose. This time, it reached a full two feet. The color was deeper, and it moved as nimbly as a snake.
“…!”
Seok Myeong twisted his body mid-air. It was too urgent to even attempt the Thousand-Pound Press.
Clang!
With the sound of the halo of light splitting, Seok Myeong fell back down.
Boom!
With a thunderous explosion, the ceiling of the building where Seok Myeong fell caved in.
Silence descended in an instant. No sound of movement, no sound of struggle.
Click.
Cheol Gun sheathed his sword. With a bitter expression, he glanced at the collapsed building and shook his head.
“He was just trash.”