Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Perfect Resurrection (3)
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Yang Hui-gun closed his eyes and calmly recalled the memories of that day.
"I have to save our Ghost Sword Manor, no matter what it takes."
At the time, Ghost Sword Manor was under existential threat from the Fine Sword Sect, leaving no room to be picky about allies.
And so, Yang Hui-gun sought out forces that could aid Ghost Sword Manor.
In other words, factions with deep ties to the Demonic Cult in the past or those sympathetic to the First Heavenly Demon. To find them, he set out for the heart of the Central Plains.
The natural route from Yoneung to the Central Plains passed through the Hebei region, a well-traveled path bustling with merchants and wanderers.
"This is definitely the way."
Since Yang Hui-gun had taken this route once before, he chose it and was about to depart when—
Chaeng! Chaeng!
A faint clash echoed from afar.
It was a sound all too familiar to any martial artist—the ring of weapons colliding.
That alone would have piqued his interest, but then...
"Aaaah! Father!"
The desperate cry of a young woman pierced the air.
The distance was considerable; only a peak-level expert like Yang Hui-gun, the Ghost Shadow Sword, could have heard it.
"Oh no!"
Had he not heard it at all, he might have ignored it. But the woman's anguished plea gave him pause.
Yang Hui-gun was no fool. He knew the old adage of the martial world: beware children, women, and the elderly.
Above all, he knew this was no time to help strangers when his own Ghost Sword Manor teetered on the brink.
Yet the woman's voice...
"It sounds just like my sister, Yang Yeon-hwa."
It overlapped eerily with his sister's voice.
And when she cried "Father," it inevitably brought Yang Dae-un and Yang Yeon-hwa to mind.
Already burdened with guilt for leaving them behind alone, the sound fueled an illusion that they were the ones in peril.
"Aaaah! Please, someone help us!"
As Yang Hui-gun wrestled with his dilemma, the woman's plea grew more desperate, impossible to ignore.
"I'm no hero seeking justice, but I'm on a journey to beg aid from others."
He couldn't justify turning a blind eye to someone in dire need while seeking help himself.
What Yang Hui-gun pursued wasn't righteousness or chivalry, but a path he wouldn't be ashamed of.
That alone.
Paaaat!
With resolve hardened, he shot forward like an arrow.
The scene unfolded as he'd feared: a white-haired elder, clad in black robes with his face and body concealed, was seized by thugs. The young woman resisted fiercely, her clothes nearly torn away.
"You beasts worse than animals!"
Yang Hui-gun could guess the rest. Enraged at their intent to rape her, he charged in boldly.
—Ghost Qi Pursuit!
Confident against peers in the area, he sensed the masked thugs were novices of similar age, not seasoned warriors. He struck without hesitation.
Paaaat!
At the time, Yang Hui-gun boasted the swiftest, most refined technique among Ghost Sword Manor's warriors. His Ghost Weep Shadow Pursuit Sword Technique blazed to life.
With blinding speed, he felled the masked assailants one by one, rendering them helpless.
Fortunately, their resistance was feeble and short-lived. The moment a few fell...
"Urk, let's run!"
"Leave no traces!"
They fled like they'd been waiting for the excuse.
Yang Hui-gun watched them go for a moment before turning.
"Are you alright?"
He addressed the bloodied elder, battered by the thugs, and the pretty young woman who seemed to be his daughter.
Their conditions were dire even at a glance.
The elder bled profusely, and the beauty's clothes were half-shredded. They needed aid.
"I'm fine—please help my father."
At her earnest plea, Yang Hui-gun approached the elder, whose white hair was matted with blood.
Ever cautious of traps, he remained vigilant to the end.
He staunched the elder's bleeding and gently laid him down.
"I'll fetch your clothes."
As he picked up the garments scattered by the thugs...
Shwaaa!
The unbelievable happened right then.
Lifting the woman's sheer robes released a cloud like poisonous moth dust. Caught off guard, even Yang Hui-gun inhaled a lungful.
"What in the world...?"
Yang Hui-gun panicked, regretting his aid.
But regret came too late. The inhaled poison was lethal, sealing his inner energy, chilling his dantian.
"I can't circulate qi, and my strength is fading."
His body stiffened, petrifying like stone.
Feeling his power ebb, he inwardly berated his carelessness.
"Quite cautious and suspicious."
Yang Hui-gun gaped as the "bleeding" elder rose abruptly, hale and hearty.
The man was none other than Moyong Yo, steward of the Moyong Clan, a master martial artist famed as a schemer and advisor—the Curved Change Waving Sword.
"Exactly, hehe! But I told you, right? People might be wary, but clothes? Less so."
The woman laughed brazenly, unhanding her mouth. Shedding her disguise, her plain facade gave way to a venomous glare.
She was Moyong Jin-hui, Moyong Yo's foster daughter and a branch family adoptee of the Moyong Clan.
It had all been their elaborate trap. The Moyong Clan had long targeted Ghost Sword Manor's sole direct heir when alone.
"To think we'd snag the one pesky expert from Ghost Sword Manor!"
Moyong Jin-hui clasped her hands in delight.
Their scheme was meticulous, exploiting Yang Hui-gun's sharp mind by preying on his weaknesses.
They'd crafted a ploy evoking longing for his father and sister on a long journey.
"Erase all traces first. If we don't now, it'll bite us later. Beggars' Sect or Hao Clan might sniff us out."
"Got it."
Under the veteran Moyong Yo's lead, Moyong Jin-hui secured Yang Hui-gun as his dantian froze and numbed.
Later, even Beggars' Sect and Hao Clan intel struggled thanks to their cunning.
It happened on a seldom-used lower path, not the main route—unforeseen by most.
"Young hero Ghost Shadow Sword Yang Hui-gun, don't worry too much. We won't kill you. We've coveted something from you since the days of Loyal Ghost Sword Yang U-ryang. Why would we end you?"
Yang Hui-gun couldn't grasp her words amid crashing fatigue and sleep. He blacked out.
Until then, he hadn't suspected the Moyong Clan. But that changed soon enough.
Awakening, he found himself in the Moyong Clan stronghold.
"Sleep well?"
A familiar voice he'd heard before addressed him, still gripped by poison.
"No way! You... You're the clan head Moyong Gui of One Sword Myriad Changes!"
Born in Yoneung, how could he not know its top master?
Relations between Moyong Clan and Ghost Sword Manor weren't bad; they'd met often.
Yet he'd never dreamed they'd be the culprits.
"Young hero Yang. Confusing, eh? Truth is, our Moyong Clan has long desired one thing from Ghost Sword Manor."
The dim underground dungeon held only Moyong Gui and the warden—no one else.
It was the deepest cell, reserved for gravest offenders.
"No... surely not!!"
Yang Hui-gun intuited the truth.
Recently quiet, but once, scavengers eyed Ghost Sword Manor's arts—specifically Loyal Ghost Sword Yang U-ryang's legacy.
"But the Moyong Clan's swordsmanship lacks for nothing. Why?!"
He stared in disbelief.
"Why so shocked? As you know, our clan's sword arts emphasize change—fluid, graceful variations. But they lack raw speed, power, and ferocity."
Moyong Gui explained from start to finish.
Yang Hui-gun's guess was spot on.
"Plenty appealing and strong enough to reach my super-peak realm easily. But then... stagnation. Our Changing Sword offered no path further. While nursing that regret, word came."
"Could it be..."
"Yes. Long-coveted Ghost Sword Manor arts. You, trained in Yang U-ryang's signature Ghost Weep Shadow Pursuit Sword Technique, setting out alone into this brutal world? Our pent-up greed exploded. A golden chance to fill our greatest gap!"
He believed blending it with Moyong Changing Sword would yield perfection.
Shockingly, Moyong Gui and clan had long lusted after Yang U-ryang's legacy.
They'd never shunned or pressed Ghost Sword Manor for good reason.
They craved the Ghost Weep Shadow Pursuit Sword Technique, testing if even a verse or form might slip.
"The despair of reaching yet not grasping! This solitude! You'd understand better than anyone, walking the path of martial arts as I do."
Moyong Gui bared his true colors, raving like a madman with greed.
"So, share the core verses of Ghost Weep Shadow Pursuit Sword Technique. One form, one motion—anything."
"Don't be ridiculous."
Yang Hui-gun refused outright, as expected.
Though on decent terms once, ties with Moyong Clan had frayed. No duty to share arts.
"You've misjudged me. Even with a sword to my throat, I won't betray our founding ancestor's arts!"
"Heh heh heh. How long can you stay so stiff-necked? Warden!"
Moyong Gui summoned the dungeon warden, as if expecting refusal.
The warden brought torture tools with his usual dour face.
"Let's torment this fine Ghost Sword Manor heir. How long till he breaks?"
Moyong Gui and the warden unleashed brutal torture.
Yang Hui-gun endured to the end. Daunted by his resolve, Moyong Gui crippled his dantian in rage.
Thereafter, as all knew, Yang Hui-gun suffered agony until Abyss Hall scouts found him.
Had they missed it, death might have claimed him on the spot.
Swipe.
Finishing his tale amid self-reproach and regret, Yang Hui-gun opened his eyes.
Ghost Sword Manor folk reacted fiercely to the full story.
"Such heaven-defying scum!"
"A righteous sect and clan, yet stooping to bestial acts?"
Yang Dae-un's fury was indescribable.
"The Moyong Clan watched my torment up close, despite their deeds."
Their hypocrisy doubled the shock.
If Yang Dae-un burned hot with rage, another seethed coldly.
"No need to worry. The Moyong Clan will pay more than they inflicted on Yang Hui-gun. I swear it on the name of this Heavenly Demon."
He was, of course, Heavenly Demon Gunryong.
Cold head, hot vengeance.
True revenge had only just begun.