Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: 1000 Years
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The moment I decided to show my authority, my primordial chaos, more brilliant than that of the old man in the bamboo hat, stirred.
As I exerted my power, my primordial chaos shone even brighter, as if to swallow the darkness whole.
And it seemed my primordial chaos had gotten through.
Just as I expected, the man's primordial chaos seemed to yield to mine.
‘Right? Why were we acting like this?’
With that thought, the fallen leaves drifted back down to where they belonged.
They fluttered down gently.
For the first time, a different expression appeared on the man's face.
A smirk.
The corners of his mouth curled up.
What could it mean?
Was he mocking my primordial chaos? He didn't look like he was smiling in welcome.
Was it just a sneer?
I hadn't even used my full power yet. Was he telling me to ease up?
Or was it a smile that said this was just the beginning?
It seemed that was the case.
The man's primordial chaos grew wild. It raged violently, as if to show me what it was truly capable of. The fallen leaves rose up again.
They must be mindless.
It hadn't been long since their moment of self-reflection, yet here they were, rising up fiercely once more.
In that sense, they didn't seem much different from people. Humans, after all, forget their mistakes the moment they turn their backs.
I smirked.
I smiled back.
As if to say he wasn't the only one who could smirk like that. My primordial chaos grew wild too.
Had the man gotten serious?
But he still didn't show any killing intent. Or perhaps his primordial chaos lacked such a thing. I didn't know why I thought that, but somehow, it felt entirely possible.
A martial art incapable of holding killing intent.
Yet one that could still kill.
It could be evil disguised as good.
Or perhaps it wasn't a martial art at all, but mere sorcery.
Just as one could hide a chilling blade behind a bright smile.
There were Primordial Chaos Arts that seemed possible only in imagination, so there was no reason not to believe that any number of strange sorceries could exist in the martial world.
Thousands, tens of thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of fallen leaves were gathering. The mass of leaves was transforming into the shape of a bird. Judging by its form, it didn't seem to be a sparrow, pigeon, or magpie.
A falcon or an eagle.
Its wings were massive.
But it had no head. In its place was a shape resembling a sharp spearhead.
It rushed toward me at an incredible speed. As if to impale me, with no regard for its own safety.
My now-wild primordial chaos flowed into my sword. I countered with the Great Profound Sword Art, which I had mastered to the twelfth stage.
I deployed a blade barrier.
The blade barrier was a technique one could create upon reaching the tenth stage of the Great Profound Sword Art.
The leaves charging to impale me headfirst crashed against the blade barrier and were shredded to pieces. They met a violent end without so much as a scream.
Isn't this the fate of those who are swayed this way and that, against their own will?
A warrior of the martial world should never allow this to happen, but even that is difficult here. For it is the way of the martial world that the weak are swayed and torn apart by the strong, regardless of their own will.
But what was this?
A second look at the shredded leaves…
The leaves I thought had met a violent end were reassembling. All the fallen leaves in the vicinity were gathering, as if for some grand meeting.
They gathered from all directions, each forming its own unique shape, as if showing off its finest form.
Eagles, falcons, tigers, wildcats, bears, boars, and so on. All sorts of creatures known for their strength or ferocity were being formed.
I glared at the man's face.
As if asking what the hell he was doing.
Was he testing me, playing with me, or trying to kill me?
But the man just smirked.
Another smirk?
Is smirking the only thing he knows how to do?
Irritation began to creep in.
I had followed him out of curiosity and a sense of camaraderie, intrigued by this man who claimed to follow me and practiced a martial art so similar to my own.
What the hell was this supposed to be?
For a moment, I almost unleashed my own killing intent. A killing intent laced with utter annoyance.
In any case, that man might not look like he practiced martial arts, but he was an incredible master.
But it was becoming unclear whether he was truly testing me or trying to kill me.
If he really was trying to kill me, what were my chances of getting out of here alive?
Honestly, the possibility of him killing me seemed slim, but when did the martial world ever go according to one's will, wishes, or thoughts?
This very confidence could be what leads him to drive me to my death.
It hadn't been long since I decided to protect the people around me. Not even a full day had passed since these new emotions had begun to blossom.
And yet, I still lacked the ability to even protect myself in the martial world.
A bitter laugh.
A bitter laugh mocked me.
So I, too, joined in, mocking myself.
The thought of me, who could barely protect myself, trying to protect others was utterly laughable.
I have to become stronger. No, I must keep getting stronger until I can't get any stronger. The so-called realms of the martial world are nothing more than lines drawn before my feet.
I must erase those lines as a matter of course.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Like a newborn baby latching onto its mother's breast.
Just then.
The animal-shaped leaves charged. This was beyond what my blade barrier could handle.
I began to cut down everything that rushed at me with the Thunder Flash. I severed heads and legs, but it was all futile.
The leaves reformed.
No matter how finely they were shredded, they regenerated.
Was this the terror of primordial chaos?
Or the terror of sorcery?
But wasn't I a practitioner of both primordial chaos and sorcery?
I felt no fear, no hesitation.
There was a sword art perfect for this situation. The Thirteen Flashing Thunder Swords of the Namgung Family. Of course, this was only possible because I had achieved the tenth stage of mastery.
It was unbelievable, but it was something I had simply acquired in the process of mastering the ninety-six forms recorded in the Annihilation Sword within the abyss of primordial chaos.
Just like that.
Would you believe it?
Reaching the grand mastery of the tenth stage is incredibly difficult, yet I had just... acquired it.
Who would believe me?
But what could I do? It was the truth.
The Thirteen Flashing Thunder Swords unfolded from my blade.
Bursts of sharp, lightning-like sword energy erupted where I willed, sending arcs of thunder scattering in every direction.
It was perfect for incinerating the dry leaves.
And so, in the dead of night, I cleared away the fallen leaves.
The white-haired man in the bamboo hat, gazing at the now-pristine forest, changed his method.
And the world changed.
It was unbelievable, but the world that had been cloaked in darkness was transformed into broad daylight, as if by magic.
It was fascinating.
Like a child, I looked around frantically in all directions.
Ah.
…So this is why they're called the Illusionary Shadow Sect.
Because they show illusions.
Yes, this was an illusion. Not the real world, but an illusion that looked no different from it.
An illusion that deceives people.
An illusion that makes one's eyes play tricks on them.
I was already getting excited to see what would happen inside this illusion.
Show me.
Who you are, old man.
What the Illusionary Shadow Sect is capable of.
If you wish to swear loyalty to me, show me you have the ability to be useful.
And if you want to kill me, show me you have the ability and power to do so.
Inside the illusion, the old man was nowhere to be seen. He had hidden his presence. But I could see him.
No, I could feel him.
The illusion, which had been nothing but grass, instantly transformed into a forest dense with massive trees.
This too was fascinating. That he could freely paint this illusionary world according to his will.
If I were to learn and cast that illusion art, what would my illusion be like?
But my wondrous and innocent fantasy was short-lived.
The trees tore their roots from deep within the earth.
And then they walked.
It was a sorcery so amazing it went beyond fascination; I wanted to applaud. So much so that I wanted to learn it myself.
The trees extended their branches like arms. They were sharp. One might wonder how much power a mere branch could hold, but their speed was enough to pierce a human body.
I couldn't just stand by in the face of this astounding marvel. So I summoned my Shadows.
As if to say, ‘You're not the only one who can pull this shit, old man.’ To show that I, too, could do something incredible.
The Shadows ran wild.
They were more active than before. They rampaged like madmen.
I wondered why, but I supposed they had synchronized with my changed self.
I felt a strange sense of pride.
It was like watching cats I had raised tear apart tigers that ruled the mountains. A smile naturally formed on my face as I watched my Shadows.
Look.
As if to say, ‘You're not the only one with mysterious and bizarre sorcery, old man.’
The Shadows sliced and diced the branches pouring toward me. Perfectly sized for firewood.
Not that I needed to start a fire.
I thought about nagging my needlessly diligent Shadows, but I just let them be, excited as they were, like children.
I knew.
They must have suffered a great deal because of me in the abyss of primordial chaos. How could someone as brilliant and clever as I not know of the Shadows' hardship?
I knew, and yet I did it anyway.
What can I do? That's just the kind of person I am at my core.
The Shadows should blame themselves for choosing the wrong master.
Or blame the heavens that connected me to the Primordial Chaos Art.
Before I knew it, the trees that had moved like people had all become firewood. The rampaging Shadows panted, seemingly exhausted.
And the color of the world changed again.
Back to a night sky full of moonlight and starlight.
The silent forest was tranquil.
Where the illusion had vanished, the white-haired old man in the bamboo hat was staring intently at me.
‘What? What do you want?’
He sent a gaze so intense I wanted to ask that. Then, he slowly approached me, one step at a time.
The white-haired old man, now close, respectfully took off his bamboo hat.
He was undoubtedly an old man with white hair, yet there wasn't a single wrinkle on his face. Still, I got the strong impression that he was incredibly old.
He looked just like a Daoist immortal.
Yes, an immortal.
For a moment, I actually believed that such beings as immortals truly existed in this world.
The old man, having removed his hat, knelt on one knee. He had knelt before me.
Just like Baekri Jang-won.
And finally, the old man's tightly sealed lips opened with great solemnity.
“I greet the Master of Primordial Chaos, for whom I have waited one thousand years.”
“…”
This situation didn't surprise me. I had anticipated it to some extent.
However…
I was simply humbled by the wonder and awe that came with the passage of a thousand years.