Chapter 749
In the martial world, there were eight masters renowned for their Light Body Techniques.
These figures, known as the Eight Great Lightness Skill Masters of Murim, were mostly former thieves or members of the Demonic Path.
The reason they devoted their lives to honing movement techniques alone—
Was generally either to steal others' belongings or to evade pursuit.
Because of this, finding a master who could rival Wi Cheon-gyeong in combat was no easy task.
Fortunately, however, among the retired members of the Eight Great Lightness Skill Masters—
Myo Cheon-u had managed to track down the whereabouts of the Twin Flying Immortal, Jeong Bul-hae.
At the foot of a sparsely populated mountain slope stood a somewhat worn but still respectable house.
Beside the courtyard in front of the dwelling was a neatly squared stone chamber—a Go room for playing the game.
During his prime, when he had roamed the martial world freely, Jeong Bul-hae had been obsessed with Go.
That was why he had retired relatively early, in his forties, at the height of his fame.
He wished to study the Go records he had collected during his travels and play to his heart's content.
"Hah."
Jeong Bul-hae let out a sigh as he was about to enter the Go room.
Even though it had been twenty years since he left the martial world, his Internal Power remained intact.
Yet someone had managed to conceal their presence and circle behind him?
"This old man has long left the martial world. What grudge brings you here?"
When he turned around, he saw a handsome man with a prominent nose peeking through his long hair—
Standing tall with a large sack slung over his shoulder.
It was none other than Wi Cheon-gyeong.
"After earning the name Twin Flying Immortal and retiring, you truly seem to have become an immortal."
Wi Cheon-gyeong gazed down at Jeong Bul-hae with a look full of contempt and spoke coldly.
"All while hiding your true identity as the Blue-Faced Thief."
The Twin Flying Immortal, Jeong Bul-hae.
Beyond his reputation as a Renowned Chivalrous Hero of the Righteous Faction—
He had another identity: the infamous Great Thief and murderous fiend known as the Blue-Faced Thief, who plundered the wealth of the rich.
"Hahaha, calling this old man the Blue-Faced Thief? I have no idea what nonsense you're spouting."
Jeong Bul-hae shook his head as if bewildered.
"That vicious robber was chased by masters of the Liangguang Martial Alliance ten years ago and fell to his death from the Ten-Thousand-Zhang Cliff."
Then he spoke calmly.
"This old man no longer concerns himself with the grudges or honors of the martial world. Leave."
But Jeong Bul-hae's expression hardened abruptly.
Because Wi Cheon-gyeong was holding a Go stone container in his left hand.
"Indeed, genuine white stones carved from fossilized shells."
Wi Cheon-gyeong took out a single white stone and held it up to the sunlight before nodding.
"Worthy of being treasured more than life itself by the Silver Leaf Master."
Creating Go stones by carving stone and shell is far more difficult than making boards from cut wood.
Moreover, the white stones in the container were carved from fossilized shells—
Each one was worth more than most treasures or antiques.
"If you keep spouting nonsense, I'll start by smashing these Go stones."
"Why are you doing this? What grudge do you hold against this old man?"
Crunch.
Wi Cheon-gyeong crushed a single Go stone into powder.
At that, a terrifying Killing Intent surged from Jeong Bul-hae's eyes.
It was a sinister, vicious glare that no one bearing the epithet Twin Flying Immortal could ever possess.
"Instinct can't be hidden. Just that look in your eyes proves you were a Great Thief who killed people like eating meals—a murderous fiend."
After a silence, Jeong Bul-hae spoke in an unbearably low voice.
"...How did you know?"
He no longer concealed his true identity.
"No one should have known this old man's secret."
"There are no true secrets in this world."
Wi Cheon-gyeong tucked the Go stone container back into his robe as he spoke.
"Did you really think you could commit all manner of evil deeds and still enjoy a peaceful old age?"
The Twin Flying Immortal Jeong Bul-hae had always been known as a Renowned Chivalrous Hero of the Righteous Faction.
But his true identity was that of a Great Thief and Murder Fiend who periodically wreaked havoc on the martial world—
Jeong Il-hae.
"The only reason your identity wasn't exposed was because a shadow took on the role of the real Jeong Bul-hae."
Wi Cheon-gyeong's expression twisted with disdain.
"But as the investigation continued and the net closed in, you faced the crisis of your true identity and deeds being exposed... So you switched the shadow to the identity of the Blue-Faced Thief, lured them into a trap, and killed them. Then you lived on as Jeong Bul-hae."
Jeong Bul-hae—no, Jeong Il-hae's gaze grew infinitely sharper.
No one in this world should have known that secret. How had this bastard uncovered it?
How could he silence this man and keep the secret buried?
"Those Go stones are treasures that must be passed down through generations."
Jeong Il-hae suppressed his Killing Intent and spoke.
"Even if you hold a grudge against me, the stones are innocent."
"Truly, you're a man obsessed with Go."
Wi Cheon-gyeong spoke coldly.
"Or perhaps there's some kind of evidence inside this go case."
Jeong Il-hae's gaze wavered like rippling water.
So it turned out this young bastard had come here already knowing everything.
"What do you want?"
Jeong Il-hae's eyes swept over Wi Cheon-gyeong's body as he spoke.
"The treasures I've hidden? Or do you plan to expose my true identity, hand me over to the Martial Alliance, and make a name for yourself?"
"Try catching me first."
"What?"
Wi Cheon-gyeong grinned coldly.
"I'm heading to the Martial Alliance right now to submit the evidence inside this go case. But if you can catch me before then... you might just keep your secret."
"I don't understand."
Jeong Il-hae furrowed his brow.
"What do you stand to gain from this?"
"I can't sleep at night knowing there's someone faster than me."
"You came after me for something that trivial?"
"The choice is yours."
Pahng!
At the same moment, Wi Cheon-gyeong's body split through the air in an instant.
It was a Lightness Art akin to Lightning Flash.
Killing intent swirled in Jeong Il-hae's eyes.
He had lived as the Blue-Faced Thief, slaughtering countless wealthy men and martial masters.
The grudges from those deeds still lingered, and his head still carried an astronomical bounty.
And yet, this bastard was provoking him just to see if he could catch up? Was this young man completely insane?
"Is he one of those eccentric freaks in the martial world?"
The martial world had no shortage of odd characters with incomprehensible personalities or habits.
They cared nothing for fame or wealth—only obsessing over the one thing they desired.
"Good."
What if his identity was exposed? Forget the wealth he had accumulated over the years.
He'd spend the rest of his life hunted by the Martial Alliance's masters and bounty-seeking mercenaries.
If he could just kill this young bastard, he could return to his peaceful life.
Pahng!
Jeong Il-hae immediately unleashed his Lightness Skill in the direction Wi Cheon-gyeong had vanished.
The reason he had committed countless atrocities yet remained uncaptured was simple:
He had mastered not only Extreme Flashing Torrent, one of the supreme Lightness Studies of the Righteous Faction,
but also the Black Chain Divine Thread, the pinnacle of the Demonic Path's movement arts.
Kwa-woo-woo-woo!
Not only had he mastered the two greatest movement techniques of the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions, but he had also fused them into his own unique Movement Technique.
Truly, the Twin Flying Immortal.
Like two immortals soaring through the heavens, he could create two afterimages and traverse a thousand li in a single breath.
Shwaa-ae-ae-ek!
Before he knew it, Jeong Il-hae had closed in on Wi Cheon-gyeong, who was charging forward like an arrow shot from a bow, still carrying the sack on his back.
'Impressive.'
Wi Cheon-gyeong swallowed his surprise as Jeong Il-hae caught up to him in an instant.
Ever since receiving instruction in Lightness Art from Bu Eun-seol, he had never met anyone—regardless of age—who could keep up with him.
Only No Trace, leader of the Death Soul Squad, or Flying Demon Tak Il-hon had ever shown even a slight advantage over him.
And yet, despite starting late, Jeong Il-hae was now hot on his heels?
Shwooo!
A pair of black iron gauntlets had appeared on Jeong Il-hae's hands, gleaming with killing intent.
The gauntlets were fitted with sharp, beast-like claws that glinted darkly—
clearly coated in Extreme Poison, lethal upon the slightest scratch.
This was Jeong Il-hae's signature weapon: the Blue Demon Claw.
Koo-woo-woo!
Wi Cheon-gyeong pushed his Movement Technique to the limit, but the distance between them was steadily shrinking.
At this rate, the Blue Demon Claw would tear through his back.
Fwik!
But then, Wi Cheon-gyeong pulled something small from the sack and hurled it.
Since he was already moving at extreme speed,
even without any special throwing technique, the object shot toward Jeong Il-hae's face with terrifying force.
Thwak!
Reflexively, Jeong Il-hae snatched the projectile out of the air with his iron gauntlet.
Even if it were some kind of poisoned weapon, the Blue Demon Claw would neutralize any threat.
'What is this?'
It was a tiny statue—
depicting a man raising his right hand toward the distant sky.
But something about it felt artificial, with an oddly protruding belly, making it somewhat grotesque.
Shwoop!
Then something strange happened.
The moment Wi Cheon-gyeong threw the statue, his speed—already on the verge of being overtaken—seemed to increase slightly.
Because the small statue, just small enough to grip in one hand,
was made from a mix of Dark Gold and Mysterious Iron, making it ten times heavier than a lump of gold the same size.
"Hmph."
Jeong Il-hae scoffed, tossing the statue aside before resuming pursuit.
Even if Wi Cheon-gyeong's Lightness Art had gotten a little faster, it wasn't enough to escape him.
Fwik!
But then—something strange happened again.
Just as Jeong Il-hae was about to crush Wi Cheon-gyeong's back, another identical statue came flying at his face.
And at the same time, Wi Cheon-gyeong's speed increased yet again.
"Don't tell me—"
The foundation of Lightness Art was making the body as light as possible.
"Of course carrying something heavy would affect one's speed."
At first, he had assumed the large sack slung over Wi Cheon-gyeong's back contained stolen goods—his own stolen possessions, no less.
But could it be that the entire sack was filled with nothing but heavy statues?
"That's ridiculous!"
Kwa-woo-woo!
Jeong Il-hae alternated between Extreme Flashing Torrent and Black Chain Divine Thread, pushing himself to the limit as he pursued Wi Cheon-gyeong.
Yet, every time the man threw a statue, his speed increased—until eventually, Jeong Il-hae could no longer keep up.
"Hah... hah..."
A groan escaped his lips.
No matter how desperately he tried to close the gap, it was impossible.
But if he let him escape now? He would spend the rest of his life as a fugitive.
"No!"
Watching Wi Cheon-gyeong's shadow grow ever more distant, Jeong Il-hae let out a thunderous roar.
But the figure that had once seemed within reach was now slipping further away.
"Absolutely not!"
He swiftly drew a hidden throwing dagger from his sleeve and hurled it.
Yet Wi Cheon-gyeong's Lightness Skill was even faster.
Each time Jeong Il-hae threw a dagger, his own movement became more unstable, slowing him down drastically.
"Haaah—!"
Finally, he resorted to his last resort.
Unable to catch up, he began channeling Primordial Essence True Qi to drive his lightness art and propel himself forward.
Flash!
His body shot forward like a streak of light.
As he raced ahead, the hair at his temples turned white—but in exchange for burning his life force, his speed became truly blinding.
Before he knew it, he had closed the distance once more, right on Wi Cheon-gyeong's heels.
"Die!"
Just as he prepared to unleash Soul-Seizing Heaven and Earth with his Blue Demon Claw—
Rip—!
The sack on Wi Cheon-gyeong's back suddenly burst open, scattering its contents in all directions.
Dozens of statues fanned out like an umbrella, crashing straight into Jeong Il-hae's face.
It was an attack he could never have anticipated.
"Ugh—!"
A cry of shock tore from his throat.
The sheer speed of his lightness art, combined with the immense weight of the statues, made them strike with terrifying force—far more destructive than any hidden weapon.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Unable to evade, Jeong Il-hae was struck in the face, vital points on his chest, and his lower abdomen.
The impact was devastating.
The heavy statues shattered through his Body Protection True Qi, crushing his skull, ribs—and even his dantian.
Thump.
Collapsing in a bloody heap, Jeong Il-hae gasped for breath, his face twisted in bitter resentment.
"You... hid weapons in that sack... just to toy with me."
"No, that's not it."
Wi Cheon-gyeong carefully picked up the fallen statues.
"The sack just tore because it was too weak. These were specially crafted."
"What... nonsense..."
"These are commemorative statues, modeled after our Lord. Every warrior of the Death Shadow War Unit pooled years of their salaries to have them made with great care."
"Commemorative... statues?"
"Yes."
Wi Cheon-gyeong spoke with pride.
"They were forged with Dark Gold and Mysterious Iron so they'd never rust. The statue was scaled down to about one-tenth its actual size, and the banners on the shoulders were polished to a shine."
"..."
"Though it's not yet complete, even Lord's beloved sword, Ink Soul, will be included. Once the Iron Master finishes it, he'll send it to our hall."
Jeong Il-hae furrowed his brow and coughed up blood.
"I have... no idea what you're talking about."
And with that, he breathed his last.
The Great Thief and murderer who had once terrorized the world, the infamous Blue-Faced Thief Jeong Il-hae—had met his end in the most absurd way possible: beaten to death by commemorative statues of Bu Eun-seol, crafted by the Death Shadow War Unit.
"Lord."
Wi Cheon-gyeong gently wiped the dust off the statue in his hands.
"Even as a statue, you continue to protect us."
After carefully cleaning it, he set it upright on the ground, then suddenly clasped his hands together in reverence.
For a long moment, he stood there in silent prayer, eyes closed.
Then, with great care, he began gathering the scattered statues and placing them back into the sack.
"..."
Watching from afar, Myo Cheon-u's eyes lost focus.
—Just where... did everything go wrong?
Only Jo Nam-cheon's duel remained, but Myo Cheon-u felt no anticipation at all.
"I don't know how you found me, but—"
A muscular middle-aged man glared at Jo Nam-cheon.
Blood Wind Demon Wall Baek Jang-song.
Once a mountain bandit, he had stumbled upon the Soul-Seizing Demon Scripture and, through its teachings, became a monstrous villain infamous for his depravity.
Most notably, he had mastered the Blood Wind Demon Force from the scripture, achieving a Horizontal Training Martial Art rivaling even Vajra Indestructibility.
For over a decade, he had plunged the murim into terror.
Yet at some point, he abruptly vanished without a trace.
Surprisingly, he had been training alone in a secluded valley where no one could find him.
But then, something unexpected happened.
A young man with bristling facial hair sought him out and challenged him to a duel.
"I've already washed my hands of my past deeds."
At Baek Jang-song's calm words, the man—Jo Nam-cheon—let out a derisive laugh.
"Cut the bullshit."
Then, stripping off his upper garments, he declared solemnly:
"You think I don't know you only stopped your evil deeds and left the murim because the Bullet King was hounding you relentlessly?"
Twitch.
Baek Jang-song's brow furrowed, as if he had no rebuttal.
It was true—the Bullet King, Bukgung Ryeong, had sworn to hunt down and kill Baek Jang-song for his repeated rape of women.
And the Bullet King was a man of his word.
Fearing his body would be torn apart by the Inner Energy Bullet Art, Baek Jang-song had secluded himself in a deep mountain valley to refine his Blood Wind Demon Force once more.
If he could reach the Twelve Stars Realm, he would no longer have to fear the Bullet King's techniques.
Just as he had completed his training and was about to re-emerge into the murim—
Some bandit-looking bastard had shown up to pick a fight.
"So."
Baek Jang-song's expression darkened.
"You truly intend to duel me?"
"Of course. Let's have a go."
Jo Nam-cheon provocatively slapped his palms together.
At a glance, Baek Jang-song discerned from his muscular structure that he had mastered an extraordinary external martial art from the Demonic Path.
"You've trained in an external martial art similar to mine. Have you reached the First Breath of Rigid Qi?"
"None of your damn business."
"Heh heh heh. Interesting. So you've trained in the same kind of art."
Baek Jang-song licked his lips with a slightly displeased expression.
"This'll be a tedious fight."
Those who mastered external martial arts could shrug off most blows with ease.
And since neither of them was using a weapon—
It was obvious this would devolve into nothing more than a brawl, no different from street thugs brawling.
"I heard you've set up a Netherworld Blood Chamber here."
Then, Jo Nam-cheon made an unexpected proposal.
"Let's settle it there. A slugfest isn't going to decide anything anyway."
"In the Netherworld Blood Chamber...?"
Baek Jang-song's expression shifted in surprise.
The Netherworld Blood Chamber was a place where over a thousand instruments unleashed Sound Arts simultaneously—
A training ground for honing the Mind-Training Formula of external martial arts or tempering one's Spirit and Mind.
But no matter how strong one's mental discipline or spiritual barriers were—
The chamber's horrifying power was such that even the most resilient couldn't endure for even half a quarter before being forced to flee.
"If we hold out in there, either our Spirit and Mind will shatter, or our external qi techniques will collapse. One of the two is bound to break, no?"
"Heh heh heh."
Baek Jang-song let out a faint chuckle.
He had built the Netherworld Blood Chamber here precisely to complete his Blood Wind Demon Force—
And after relentless training, he could now endure inside for about half an hour.
"You sure about this? Your external martial art will crumble before even half a quarter passes."
"Who the hell are you worried about?"
Jo Nam-cheon spat into his palms and rubbed them together.
"I'll be the one doling out punishment in there, so be ready to pay for your sins."
"Heh heh heh. We'll see."
Baek Jang-song led Jo Nam-cheon into a massive stone chamber within the cave.
Giant bamboo pipes lined the walls—clearly the conduits through which the thousand instruments would unleash their Sound Arts.
"Ready?"
CLANG.
Baek Jang-song locked the three-foot-thick iron gate of the chamber and smirked darkly.
"Either you'll go mad from the Sound Arts of the Netherworld Blood Chamber, or your external martial art will shatter and you'll die by my hand. One of the two."
"Damn, you talk too much. Just start already!"
"Fine."
BOOOOM.
A low vibration shook the chamber as the Night-Luminescent Pearls embedded in the walls flashed violently—
SCREEEECH! CRACK! BOOM! RUMBLE!
An overwhelming cacophony flooded the stone room.
This was no mere noise—
It was a Sound Art so vile that just hearing it could drive a man to madness.
"Ghk!"
The moment the Netherworld Blood Chamber activated, a groan escaped Jo Nam-cheon's lips.
This brutal Sound Art was something no one—no matter how strong their Mind-Training Formula or spiritual barriers—
Could possibly endure.
Worse still, many of the sounds amplified killing intent inherent to human nature, driving most to claw at their own heads or chew their own flesh in desperation.
'Let's see how long you last.'
Baek Jang-song crossed his arms and smiled faintly.
Having trained daily in the Netherworld Blood Chamber, he could now listen to this torturous Sound Art as if it were a soothing melody—
He had reached a state of perfect tranquility.
"Ugh..."
Sure enough, after barely a quarter-hour had passed, Jo Nam-cheon's groans spilled out.
His breath came in ragged, unceasing gasps, and his closed eyelids twitched incessantly with spasms.
Huhuhu. Pathetic.
Baek Jang-song curled his lips into a smile brimming with certainty of victory.
Facial spasms meant his opponent's external martial arts had already shattered.
In this state, even a single fist imbued with Internal Power would be enough to make Jo Nam-cheon's head explode.
"Well, since your external martial arts are broken, you've got no right to complain about dying."
A faint current of qi rippled around Baek Jang-song's fist—the Blood Wind Demon Force concentrated into a single strike.
What would happen if that fist landed?
Jo Nam-cheon's skull would shatter instantly. But just then—
"Oṃ maṇi padme hūṃ! Hallelujah!"
Suddenly, the trembling Jo Nam-cheon's eyes flew open as he began shouting bizarre words.
...A mantra?
Baek Jang-song frowned.
The murim world had its fair share of sorcerers who wielded strange spellcraft, chanting incomprehensible mantras.
"The weak shall be strong! The poor shall be rich!"
But this wasn't a mantra—just a string of utterly nonsensical words.
Irritated for no reason, Baek Jang-song swung his full-powered fist straight at Jo Nam-cheon's face.
BAM!
Yet something astonishing happened.
The man whose skull should have burst from his shattered external martial arts effortlessly withstood the blow.
Did he regain his focus?!
Inside the Netherworld Blood Chamber, once the spirit and mind were broken, they couldn't simply be pieced back together—one had to exit and meditate in tranquility to restore both mental stability and Internal Power.
But this brat had fully recovered his spirit and mind in an instant, just by spouting nonsense.
"The lame shall walk! The blind shall see!"
Jo Nam-cheon kept spewing bizarre phrases.
With each word, his gaze grew increasingly eerie, and a Gang Qi far more potent than his previously shattered Black Poison Demon Art surged through his body.
"He's reciting a Mind-Training Formula as a chant?"
Only now did Baek Jang-song—a master of external martial arts—finally grasp the situation.
Jo Nam-cheon had turned some kind of Martial Arts Inner Formula into a rhythmic chant, murmuring it like a song.
"You've got some brains, I'll give you that."
This method of recitation had once been a popular training technique, though it had long since fallen out of favor.
But chanting it like a mantra required constant muttering, rendering it useless in actual combat.
"Oh-ho! That is none other than our Lord!"
Except this wasn't just any chant—it was outright deranged.
"Did getting punched scramble his brains?"
Baek Jang-song let out a cold laugh.
"No point humoring this farce any longer!"
Abandoning his rapid strikes, he poured the full might of the Blood Wind Demon Force into successive devastating blows aimed squarely at Jo Nam-cheon.
WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!
"The Lord's attention and love flow through my veins!"
The more he listened, the more absurd it sounded.
And for some reason, it made his stomach churn.
"Shut up."
Even the demonic instrument sounds of the Netherworld Blood Chamber, which had never fazed him before, now began to crack Baek Jang-song's spirit and mind.
"My love! Your love! Our Lord!"
"I said SHUT UP!"
Enraged, Baek Jang-song unleashed his full Combat Power, swinging his fists wildly.
But what masters who had mastered the pinnacle of external martial arts valued most was—
Maintaining composure and calming the spirit and mind.
Because to master the highest tier of external martial arts, one had to harden not just the body but also temper the spirit and mind into unshakable fortitude.
If that equilibrium shattered, the body—linked to the spirit—would inevitably crumble as well.
"OUR LORD!"
Then, even as he was being pummeled, Jo Nam-cheon—still singing—suddenly lashed out with a whip-like fist.
It was the Giant Spirit Fist School's ultimate technique—the Cattail Whip Flashing Strike.
THUD.
Though executed lightly, it carried enough force to shatter a mountain.
Struck in the lower abdomen while his spirit and mind were unstable, Baek Jang-song—
"GACK—!"
—coughed up blood and clutched his gut.
Those absurd words had, ironically, shattered his spirit instead.
"What kind of insane fighting style is this?!"
Baek Jang-song roared, but Jo Nam-cheon never stopped chanting as he rained down fist techniques.
—Lord, Lord. Lord.
Even the demonic instrument sounds that should have echoed through the Netherworld Blood Chamber had, at some point, been drowned out by the ceaseless repetition of "Lord."
Baek Jang-song wanted to cover his ears, but the maddening chant had already coiled around his mind.
His spirit had collapsed. His external qi techniques had broken.
"Guh—ACK!"
Finally, after taking another brutal hit from Jo Nam-cheon, Baek Jang-song vomited blood and collapsed onto the stone floor.
"Stop... it, you... lunatic."
THUD.
His eyes rolled back, and he breathed his last.
Jo Nam-cheon stared down at Baek Jang-song's corpse, then solemnly declared:
"As long as the Lord's Martial Spirit lives and breathes within me, NO ONE can violate my spirit and mind!"
CLANK.
He pushed open the stone door and stepped outside.
But Myo Cheon-u was nowhere to be seen.
After witnessing Won Se-mun and Wi Cheon-gyeong fighting, he had realized this duel was already a lost cause—
So he hadn't even bothered to come watch.