253. The Black Flame Dragon Cashes In (6)
Hwangol Taltae (Bone Shedding and Fetus Seizing). Among the fateful encounters spoken of in the jianghu, this was one of the ultimate prizes. Even among those everyone yearned for, it ranked just below the cliffside stroke of luck.
How likely was it to fall off a cliff while under enemy attack, only to land in a crevice and stumble upon a lost supreme master's secret manual and spirit elixir? It was the stuff of wuxia novels, nothing more.
By contrast, Hwangol Taltae was a very real opportunity, grounded in actuality.
I'd once undergone taltae with the aid of the Mita Sacred Water and such. Even that alone had forged my martial god physique.
But Hwangol Taltae...?!!
Hwangol Taltae...?!!!
"I-is that really true?"
Hyultu tilted his liquor flask with the pained expression of someone watching a comrade scoop up spilled silver from the dirt.
I lightly clenched and unclenched my fists. No wonder the power surging through me felt extraordinary...!
"D-does that mean I've reached the Shin-hwa-gyeong?!"
"Pfft!"
A rainbow briefly shimmered in the mist from Hyultu's spit-take.
Ah! A rainbow foretelling my path of glory?
"......"
"......Why are you looking at me like that? Even if I've become a supreme master, you think I'd bully you, Senior Hyultu?"
Hyultu couldn't erase the pitying look in his eyes.
"......Have you ever seen such a dimwit?"
He clicked his tongue with a tsk.
"What does Hwangol Taltae have to do with the Shin-hwa-gyeong!"
Huh? It doesn't?
Thud—he set the flask down on the ground.
"Hwangol Taltae is merely a superficial change. The Shin-hwa-gyeong requires harmony of jeong, gi, and sin, followed by enlightenment of the myriad truths to alter the laws themselves. You think you can waltz into that with just Hwangol Taltae? What a thief—you'd put the black path to shame!" Ting!
Wow, now even a black path heavyweight was calling me a thief. This from the guy who'd murdered folks left and right when things didn't go his way.
"You mean it's not? Then why the hell are you making that face?"
"What's wrong with my face?!"
"You're staring like I just hit the jackpot."
Under my prodding, Hyultu ducked his head slightly and muttered under his breath.
"Jackpot my ass......"
He then threw his head back, drained another flask, and tossed it carelessly to the ground.
"Anyway, you've struck something similar, so how could I not envy you?"
Heh heh heh. Called it. Still, I needed confirmation.
"How big a jackpot are we talking?"
"Hah!"
Hyultu gaped in disbelief and shook his head.
"How does a punk like you end up with fortune like this......"
I put on a humble face and shared my "secret."
"Must be from living righteously and diligently, right? Fortune favors the prepared, they say. So you should watch your own conduct too, Senior......"
"Shut your trap, or I won't tell you shit."
"My mouth was hurting anyway. Heh heh."
Hyultu snatched a fresh flask, brought it to his lips, and asked,
"What's the ultimate goal of a martial artist?"
"To uphold righteousness and create a just jianghu......"
He shot to his feet.
"Figure it out yourself, punk."
"W-wait, no!"
I grabbed his pant leg.
"......If I had to put it in words, achieving the Dao?"
"Still playing the Daoist, eh?"
Hyultu tsked and continued.
"Transcending black and white paths alike, martial artists all yearn for the Shin-hwa-gyeong, just like you said."
A supreme realm so rare that throughout jianghu history, those who'd attained it could be counted on one hand.
Hyultu asked again in a grave tone.
"Then tell me this: have you ever seen a martial artist train specifically aiming for Hwangol Taltae?"
"......"
Come to think of it, no.
Those who'd reached the bansun realm or undergone banro hwandong all shared one goal: the Shin-hwa-gyeong.
No martial artist ever declared Hwangol Taltae as their aim.
"Not every martial artist undergoes Hwangol Taltae on the path to the Shin-hwa-gyeong. Jeong signifies enduring eons of extreme patience, transforming statically like a rock eroded by wind and rain."
Hyultu eyed me up and down with narrowed eyes.
"But occasionally, lucky bastards skip that grind."
"That's Hwangol Taltae?"
Hyultu nodded, turning his gaze away. Dissatisfaction filled his face, but he pressed on.
"I don't know the exact conditions that trigger it. But if I had to guess...... an impatient gi and sin dragging along a lagging jeong."
Jeong-gi-sin always strives for harmony.
It's true for ordinary folk, but for martial artists, that balance is paramount. Disharmony leads to juwa ipma.
Wait, what? This didn't sound all good.
"......So I nearly fell into juwa ipma?"
"Your sect doesn't have a single proper master...... Never mind."
I snatched the flask from his hand and pressed him.
"Then am I in danger? What if the harmony breaks again?"
And then—
Shhh—the flask in my hand crumbled to dust in an instant.
Hyultu, watching this, asked,
"......You think disharmony is always bad?"
"Obviously."
"Tsk tsk. How does half-baked trash like you get this lucky?"
"You really won't tell me?"
After staring at me a moment, Hyultu pushed aside his flask.
"Do you know why black path arts outpace white path ones with the same training time?"
"Because they defy heaven's will......"
"Tsk, that's why you're called thick-headed. You think jeong-gi-sin harmony is some absolute truth?"
"No way......"
If earlier a surge had risen from my spine, now my nape tingled with shock.
"Exactly. Twist one of the three—jeong, gi, or sin—and force the others to adapt overall. That's the essence of black path arts."
"Sounds pretty dangerous."
"That's why black path masters turn half-mad as they grow stronger."
I barely swallowed the quip, 'Like you, Senior?' This was rare knowledge, hard to come by anywhere.
"Even among white path experts, those who've undergone Hwangol Taltae are rare. White path arts are boring as hell—no dynamic shifts."
As I listened, a question arose.
"How far can you twist the jeong-gi-sin harmony?"
"Not to your extent. That's defying karma itself. Push black path arts that far, and you end up a lunatic or dead."
"......"
Hyultu's words conjured images of the Demonic Cult. Did they twist harmony like black path folks for power?
"I don't know what went down in that Geomunjin, but brushing death might've handed you this massive stroke of luck. That Gun Yu-hyeon punk must be gutted."
Assuming he had any wits left. I'd crushed his Baihui at the end, so he'd never know about my Hwangol Taltae.
Hyultu smacked his lips like his stomach hurt.
"Anyway, you're now leagues ahead of others. Comparable to a mere jackpot?"
Now his earlier expressions made sense. Anyone would feel hollow seeing someone claim in a flash what took them decades.
But what could he do? I'd earned this crossing death's door.
"Haha, sorry, what can I say?"
"......"
Hyultu's face crumpled like paper.
And then—
Boom!
His uniform ballooned as if about to burst, qi rippling outward. He rose slowly, his aura so fierce it sent rolling flasks skittering away.
Smack, too much teasing? I hurriedly soothed him.
"Haha! J-just kidding, Senior. Kidding! Don't black path folks love jokes?"
"Draw your sword."
"No, I said it's a joke."
But Hyultu intoned coldly, ignoring me.
"You gonna brag about Hwangol Taltae to the reaper?"
"......Fuck."
Shing. I swiftly drew the Black Dragon Sword. I couldn't die here—not when I had a jackpot to flaunt.
Swish. Hyultu extended one foot and hand into a stance. Unlike before, using only feet, his presence was utterly different—raw, violent qi pricking my skin like needles.
I hadn't even adapted to my new body yet. One slip, and I'd be boasting to Yama himself.
'Fuck that.'
This filthy black path brute offered no three-move grace—he lunged with his feet.
Red qi trailed his steps, his intent deadly serious.
Bam! A sharp kick speared toward my solar plexus. I blocked with my sword flat, but the qi explosion made my arms quake.
He ducked instantly to sweep my shin, then—as if splitting into two—leapt to smash my head. All in a blink.
Papang!
I couldn't keep up. I was defending with fewer moves, yet by the time I reacted, his limbs had already passed.
This wasn't gauging or testing.
This guy was......
'Dead serious. Damn it!'
Papapung! Three strikes hammered my chest, ribs screaming as if shattering.
Hyultu, blurring my vision with footwork, sneered.
"Planning to turtle forever? Really wanna brag to the reaper?"
"You damn geezer......"
"Oh ho. Showing your true colors at last."
Papapang! How could a man strike with toes and head simultaneously? Hyultu wielded Mutupa's strengths to the extreme.
"Shit......!"
Even trying to create distance, he gave no quarter.
Thud!
"Kuhk!"
A fist buried deep in my gut, organs churning.
"They call this 'pearls around a pig's neck.' How's a Hwangol Taltae guy not even using it right?"
Fuck, tell me how to use it then...!
Reading my mind, Hyultu grinned viciously.
"Think I'd kindly explain, you filthy black path scum?"
I hurled sword qi desperately at his cackling form.
Papapapung!
But with minimal motion, he dispersed it and closed in.
"Think I've never faced someone with more inner power than you in my life?"
I wanted to snap back, but no room to speak.
"The type who just bobs his mouth in water, now clamping it shut—today's your funeral, eh?"
A razor handblade incoming. I tried to open my mouth—crack to the nape. Classic dirty black path.
At least the pain was mild—either he pulled punches or my durability had improved. I took the weak hits on purpose, blocking the heavy ones.
Thud, thud.
"You idiot! You're not even external arts—why tank with your body?!"
Fuck, who wants to block? His speed was hell, and my body wouldn't obey like before—overpowered or underpowered moves. Ungainly, like a puppet on strings.
Then, Hyultu's bellow:
"Fool! Your jeong has changed. Don't you get why Hwangol Taltae happens—for gi and sin to harmonize? They have desires too!"
His shout recalled scenes from my blackout: battling Jegumhak as Gun Yu-hyeon. My form, but not my movements. I'd forgotten post-awakening, no practice.
But no time now—or I'd go down in history as the Hwangol Taltae guy who got beaten to death.
'Fuck it, go time.'
When has my life ever been smooth? Just do it.
Whoosh—ditching Twin Heaven Sword Conclusion, I swung Socheon Sword Technique.
Less qi, smaller motions. But I sensed it—piercing his vital.
That instant:
"That's it!"
Hyultu, twisting in panic, exclaimed in admiration. I chained Socheon Sword Technique, nullifying his strikes one by one.
"Yes! That's it!"
As satisfaction grew on his face, red qi trails thickened on his limbs.
But no fear. Confidence: I could block anything, fast or destructive.
Sharp qi grazed my cheek, drawing blood—yet my heart was a still lake.
Tang! Tatatang!
Light Socheon swings parried his fist and foot qi. As he closed in, I flung him back with yeonhwa.
Differing arts flowed seamlessly, like linked strikes. My sword qi disrupted his charge.
"Good, now it's a fight!"
But emerging from the dust, Hyultu froze.
The Black Dragon Sword kissed his nape.
"Hah...... You've really jumped levels like this?"
Hyultu didn't hide his awe. I sheathed slowly, cupping fists.
"Thanks for the lesson, Senior."
In the fierce clash, I'd realized: 'This brutal spar was for me.'
Adapting naturally would've taken ages; he'd accelerated it his way.
Hyultu's excited voice rang out, like a kid in candy land:
"You're far from done! Need more to adapt—could go all day!"
He revved qi, loosening up. I shook my head at him.
"I'll balance it myself. Even rushed, I don't fancy the reaper's mug dancing in my face."
"Tsk. Could've bragged to those bastards."
"Bastards? Who?"
Hyultu winced, then played it off.
"None of your business."
"Old friends?"
Perfect opening—he'd brought it up, so I asked what I'd meant to.
But:
"......"
His face hardened. Goodwill vanished; cold eyes bored into me.
"I said none of your business."
Even a master would quail and shut up under that pressure.
But my "second" topic tied to this.
I met his gaze squarely.
"You mean folks in the Heukrim?"
"......"
His eyes bulged. A razor qi strand snaked from him, coiling coldly around my throat......
Heavy, ready to snap my neck anytime.