Boy and Old Man (2)
While the Mangeum Clan crumbled into ruin, a fierce battle raged not far from the Demon Sword Sect.
“Gah, guhuk!”
Cheon Baeksang, the Demon Sword Ghost Elder and sect leader of the Demon Sword Sect—the mightiest unorthodox master renowned as the world's greatest.
His body staggered unsteadily.
“Y-You despicable scum!”
He spat blood and bellowed in fury without end.
Astonishingly, five supreme masters loomed over Cheon Baeksang.
These were none other than the Heaven's Five Venerables, the pillars of the orthodox martial world, its strongest experts, and grand elders.
“Amitabha.”
Cheollim Seonsa, the Shaolin abbot famed for his peerless fist and leg techniques as the Fist Buddha, quietly pressed his palms together.
“Hmph!”
Seonjong Jin-in, the Wudang sect leader who claimed to be the orthodoxy's lodestar alongside Shaolin, the haughty Taeguk Singeom, simply closed his eyes.
Just as Cheon Baeksang said, his pride stung at such conduct.
Even among the Heaven's Five Venerables, reactions varied wildly.
“When facing vile unorthodox scum, where's the shame in cunning?”
Jang Unhwi, the bold Huashan sect leader known as Mae Hwapung-un, stood tall despite their group ambush of five against one.
“Well said. Treachery's only treachery against fellow orthodox folk.”
Hong In-gyeol, the Beggars' Sect leader and Dorong Geosa, sneered at the dying Demon Sword Ghost Elder, echoing Jang Unhwi.
“……”
Yeo Unsa-tae, the young Ami sect leader and Biyeon Sinn-i, kept silent.
Truth be told, shame burned in her heart.
Yet as one of the Heaven's Five Venerables, she too had joined this cowardly ambush to fell the Demon Sword Ghost Elder. She was no different.
“Who…… who the hell told you about this place?”
That gnawed at Cheon Baeksang.
This secluded spot was known only to him—his private retreat for closed-door training.
Yet the Heaven's Five Venerables had appeared out of nowhere for a sneak attack, leaving him on the brink of death, defenseless.
“Demon Sword Ghost Elder Cheon Baeksang. Hand over the Demon Sword Sect's ultimate arts willingly, and we'll spare your life—crippled, of course. We'll even tell you what you're dying to know.”
Mae Hwapung-un Jang Unhwi of Huashan stepped forward.
Indeed, they'd spared him even after felling him for this very reason.
They coveted the Demon Sword Ghost Elder's unique martial art.
The world's supreme technique, held by its greatest master—who among warriors wouldn't crave it?
“Kuhahaha!”
Cheon Baeksang, bleeding out and near death, suddenly burst into mad laughter.
“Hilarious. You lot dare speak of sparing me? I am the world's greatest—the Demon Sword Ghost Elder Cheon Baeksang!”
With that, the Demon Sword Ghost Elder unleashed his signature ultimate technique, the Formless Flash Quick Sword.
A single flash guarantees a kill.
The Demon Sword Ghost Elder's signature Formless Flash Quick Sword was infamous in the jianghu as the Demon Sword.
Its sword qi and sword force were invisible, their paths impossible to track.
In the blink of an eye, heads would roll—the epitome of terrifying speed, too swift to behold.
People often belittle what overwhelms them as inhuman or demonic.
Thus, Central Plains warriors dubbed the Demon Sword Ghost Elder's Formless Flash Quick Sword the Demon Sword.
Paaaat!
All Heaven's Five Venerables were transcendent masters; none perished. But the blinding flash alone sufficed.
Splash!
In that instant, the Demon Sword Ghost Elder hurled himself toward the swift upper stream behind his training ground.
For a man staggering on death's door, it was eerily masterful.
“Impossible!”
“Catch him!”
The Heaven's Five Venerables cried out in shock at his sudden flight, rushing to the stream—but recent floods from heavy rains made pursuit impossible.
“No need for worry. The old Demon Sword won't last long.”
Cheollim Seonsa, the eldest Fist Buddha and Shaolin abbot, reassured his foot-stomping comrades.
He spoke true: Cheon Baeksang's wounds were fatal, beyond recovery.
“Indeed. He'll linger a day or two at most. Or perhaps the current will claim him outright.”
Taeguk Singeom Seonjong Jin-in nodded in agreement.
“That damned ghost of an old man can rot for all I care……but isn't the Formless Flash Quick Sword a waste?”
“Exactly. Such a peerless art lost forever? If we claimed it, we could seize the entire Demon Sword Sect.”
Jang Unhwi and Hong In-gyeol smacked their lips in regret.
As the Beggars' Sect leader noted, the Formless Flash Quick Sword was the sect leader's exclusive ultimate art—known fully only to Cheon Baeksang.
Master it without him? That meant becoming the Demon Sword Sect's master.
“……”
As opinions flew, only Yeo Unsa-tae of Ami stood mute.
It was absurd to hear.
'They planted a spy in the Demon Sword Sect, stole intel, ambushed the old man……and now covet not just his arts, but the whole sect.'
She wanted to ask the heavens who the real orthodox and unorthodox were.
But as the youngest and lowest-ranked among the Heaven's Five Venerables, she couldn't voice it.
“In any case, the Demon Sword Sect's golden age ends here. Leaderless, artless—they're done. The orthodox world is ours now, no?”
At Cheollim Seonsa's words, all laughed save Yeo Unsa-tae.
Would all go as they wished?
“Hahk, heuk!”
The Heaven's Five Venerables' prediction proved spot-on.
The Demon Sword Ghost Elder Cheon Baeksang was dying, bit by bit.
Summoning the last dregs of strength, he'd crawled beyond the inner heaven's edge—but couldn't even hold himself up, gasping raggedly.
'What a pity.'
As death loomed, Cheon Baeksang inwardly clicked his tongue.
Dying held no issue.
But if his signature art—the sect leader's Formless Flash Quick Sword—vanished with him, the Demon Sword Sect would become a leaderless shell, splintering inevitably.
And that meant the entire unorthodox world would collapse.
Swish!
In desperation, he'd even raised his sword to etch the Formless Flash Quick Sword's secrets—but shook his head.
Odds favored the Heaven's Five Venerables or Murim Alliance seizing it first over any Demon Sword disciple or unorthodox warrior.
“Heavens! Have you truly forsaken this Cheon?!”
Frustration boiling, he squeezed out nonexistent qi to roar at the empty sky.
The worst day of his life—or so he felt in that moment!
“Eup, kuhk!”
An astonishing sight unfolded before him.
From the downstream—opposite the upper current that carried him—a young boy floated into view.
This was none other than Man Yuhyeon, the Mangeum Clan's sole survivor, the Mangeum Gongja.
'Why's a kid here?'
Cheon Baeksang wondered, but desperation left no room for qualms.
“Haaap!”
Drawing on his jianghu-famous monstrous inner power, he invoked the wondrous Heavenly Grasping Palm, yanking Man Yuhyeon from the water.
To pull an object through empty air with qi alone—even a light child—was near-miraculous.
Proof his inner power endured, even as life ebbed.
“Kuhk!”
Thus, Man Yuhyeon reached the bank via Cheon Baeksang's grasp.
Their meeting aside, how had he survived a first-rate master's strike from Jonghun?
“This nameplate saved your life.”
Cheon Baeksang instantly recognized the boy's foe.
A long gash marred his chest—yet his heart was spared, thanks to the Mangeum Clan's jade nameplate.
On the day his son Yuhyeon was born, clan lord Man Jungho had joyfully crafted it from ruby jade.
Man Yuhyeon always carried it; miraculously, it blocked the sword qi, blunting its force enough for slim survival.
'You're dying too, eh.'
Still, a child's body ravaged by a first-rate master's qi aftermath was dire.
Broken chest bones, lungs flooded with water—his state was wretched.
“A Mangeum Clan child. Hm.”
Cheon Baeksang stared at the boy's plump, kindly face, deep in thought.
Strictly speaking, the Mangeum Clan aligned with the orthodox—merchants, not a sect, but trading mainly with them.
Yet he recalled his disciples once buying lavish gifts there on his birthday, treating them warmly.
'They said even disguised as ronin, unlike other merchants who shooed them away, these folk were kind.'
Back then, mere good folk. Now, the memory burned vivid.
At least Man Jungho hadn't died a dog's death selling to them.
This debt would lead Cheon Baeksang to bequeath everything to Man Yuhyeon—a reward for their kindness.
“Yes. Better than…… some orthodox brat, at least.”
Having incurred this slight debt, he'd entrust the boy, come what may.
Decision made, Cheon Baeksang propped up the limp Man Yuhyeon.
Forcing him into a cross-legged seat.
Pabat!
As if waiting, he thrust both palms against the small back.
What did the Demon Sword Ghost Elder attempt now?
'I prepared for a day like this.'
What he invoked was a sorcery from the unorthodox's left-path arts.
One he'd learned in youth: the Full Body Heart Transfer.
To transmit the mind through flesh—imparting enlightenment, martial arts, memories to another via mystic rite.
Even inner power.
Yet boons bore costs.
The Full Body Heart Transfer rapidly drained life force—a shortcut to swift death.
Even so, Cheon Baeksang had no choice.
“Heh heh, Yuhyeon of Mangeum Clan. You're truly fortunate.”
From the nameplate, he knew the boy's background; focusing his mind, he chuckled.
Not just unorthodox coveted it—even the Heaven's Five Venerables yearned for his art.
His three prized disciples longed endlessly for his inner power transmission.
Yet a mere merchant's child would inherit it all—not disciples, not the Venerables. Was this not fortune incarnate?
“Haaaaap!”
Reciting the Full Body Heart Transfer's full incantation, Cheon Baeksang unleashed everything through his palms into Man Yuhyeon's back.
Technique to transfer cultivation.
Cheon Baeksang's body and Man Yuhyeon's blazed with pure white lightning.
Linked as one, they shared vast torrents.
Immense inner power, of course—plus the sect leader's knowledge and memories.
And most crucially.
The full incantations and forms of the devil's sword art too fearsome for the world, dubbed the Demon Sword: the Formless Flash Quick Sword entire!