A Sword That Doesn't Fit
Crunch.
Haa… not here either.
Do-ha let out a long, heavy sigh. He had scoured the Yunnan region and pushed all the way to the Guangxi border, combing every inch as thoroughly as if he were hunting rats. Even focusing on places thick with Yin energy had yielded nothing—not the Eternal Ice Crystal, not so much as a single fruit.
The Eternal Ice Crystal formed only in locations saturated with Yin energy. People often assumed that anything called an “ice crystal” must come from the most frigid extremes, but that was a misconception. Extreme cold simply made such places rich in Yin, so discoveries were more common there; any mountain strong enough in Yin could produce one, so long as no Fire energy was present.
Is it really not here at all?
Canteas had said the story was centuries old. In that light, its absence was only natural. The area had long since been developed into a tourist destination, thronged with people. If an Eternal Ice Crystal had ever existed, someone would have claimed it already.
“Haa… This is why they say buying natural spiritual herbs is faster.”
The prices were outrageous, of course, but purchasing them was still quicker than this. Searching never guaranteed a find, and there was no certainty one even existed.
Rustle.
“Nothing?”
Canteas approached at a leisurely pace, head hanging low—clearly he had come up empty as well.
“See? I told you it probably wasn’t here.”
“What about you? Did you look?”
“Yeah, I searched too. Nothing.”
“Ahh~? So you weren’t just off snacking somewhere?”
“Wh-what are you talking about? You’re out here working yourself to death—I’d never do that!”
“Wipe the candy crumbs off your mouth before you talk.”
“Huh?! I checked in a mirror!”
Canteas frantically patted around his lips. Not a single crumb, not even a speck of dust.
“Just a shot in the dark… and I was right.”
“……Haha, actually I was gathering information from people… Wait, what are you doing?”
Do-ha opened his bag and began rummaging. Canteas tilted his head, uneasy about whatever was about to emerge.
“I told you, didn’t I? If there’s no Eternal Ice Crystal, I’m planting you right here.”
Swoosh.
“Wh-why did you pack a shovel?!”
A shovel appeared from the dimensional bag. Canteas recoiled in horror. That madman had actually brought one!
“I went all the way to the Guangxi border, and you spent the whole time happily munching candy?”
“No! I only had one bowl of noodles! No candy!”
“Oh my, is that so? Noodles, was it? Why not wash them down with a drink while you were at it?”
“Information! I got information!”
“Information?”
Do-ha paused mid-spin of the shovel, tilting his head. So he hadn’t just been loafing and eating—he had actually brought back news?
“Gossip-mongers who love to talk will spill everything if you buy them a drink.”
“I know that.”
Of course he did. He had lived in the Central Plains Murim himself. The problem was that ninety percent of what those gossips spouted was pure fabrication—scraps of hearsay stitched together just to cadge a free cup.
“What exactly did you pry out of those lying windbags?”
“You know that spot where Yunnan, Guangxi, and Guizhou all meet?”
“Yeah.”
The place called the Dragon’s Tail, where a long river stretched out. In the distant past, the three regions had fought bitterly over it; controlling the river meant enormous profit. These days, with the sects of Yunnan, Guangxi, and Guizhou all gone, no one paid it any mind.
“If you follow the river upstream, there’s a hot-spring area, they said.”
“I know the place.”
Merchants who traveled by river sometimes used it. Do-ha had been there once himself. Nothing special—just a spot for long-distance traders to rest their weary bones.
“There’s an old building near those springs. People say every time they pass it, they get this creepy feeling. Plenty have snuck in and never come out alive.”
“And that means…?”
“Creepy means strong Yin energy, right?”
Smack!
“Aagh!”
Canteas clutched his head after the inevitable blow.
Haa…
So that was the nonsense he had dragged back—some random ghost story. If a horror movie felt creepy, did that mean it was full of Yin energy too? What kind of idiotic logic was that?
More importantly—
“Do you even know the nature of the Eternal Ice Crystal?”
“Strong Yin.”
“And a hot-spring area?”
“Strong Fire energy.”
“So how the hell is an Eternal Ice Crystal supposed to form in a place like that, you damn idiot?!”
“Eek!”
Do-ha charged with the shovel raised. Canteas fled in panic. The man had once consumed plenty of spiritual herbs himself—how could he spout such garbage? It was like claiming Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng that grew in the extreme cold could bloom in a desert.
“Great Master Bulmun said it himself!”
“……Who?”
Do-ha stopped dead in his tracks.
“Great Master Bulmun passed through the area and said that spot alone gathered unusually strong Yin energy. He warned people not to go in—they might fall ill. And I didn’t hear this from gossips. I got it from a local beggar who was born and raised here!”
“…….”
Do-ha’s brow furrowed at Canteas’s words.
Great Master Bulmun.
The previous abbot of Shaolin Temple—formidable in strength, and possessed of Insight Eyes that saw through everything. How formidable? He had been the only person who instantly recognized that Do-ha was not of the Belhart world.
I wanted to talk with him more, but he died.
While visiting Qinghai, the Demonic Cult had attacked. Great Master Bulmun had fallen protecting his disciples.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. Even the beggars around there won’t go near it because of that.”
“Nngh… Fine. Let’s check it out.”
Great Master Bulmun was not a man who made idle jokes. If a warning had come from his lips, it was worth verifying.
“Got it. Let’s go.”
“See? I brought back good information, didn’t I?!”
Canteas immediately puffed out his chest, full of swagger. That was why he had gone to the market in the first place. Eating noodles had been an unavoidable necessity!
“First we eat, then we go.”
“……Huh? Eat?”
The word made Canteas flinch. In truth… he hadn’t stopped at noodles. He had polished off several plates of meat, a few bottles of liquor, and even finished with tanghulu.
“You… go ahead and eat. M-my stomach’s still full from the noodles swelling up. I’m not hungry.”
“Earlier you said one bowl. Looks like you ate a lot more than that.”
“Th-that’s impossible! I only ordered one bowl so I wouldn’t look suspicious sitting there empty-handed while gathering info!”
“Right. So let’s go eat properly. Follow me.”
“No, I’ve lost my appetite…”
Grab.
Drag, drag, drag.
Do-ha hauled him along while Canteas shed silent tears inside.
“This the place?”
After the meal, Do-ha and Canteas arrived at the rumored dilapidated building. Sure enough, within a region thick with Fire energy, this spot alone radiated strong Yin. Yet it was nowhere near dangerous enough to warrant a warning—just cold, like a chilly climate.
“Still, we should take a look inside.”
“…….”
“Canteas?”
Do-ha turned from studying the building. Canteas lay sprawled on a rock, belly rounded, barely breathing.
“I can’t move another step… urp.”
A belch escaped mid-sentence. That damn Do-ha had ordered food like a madman and forced him to eat until he nearly died.
“Serves you right for enjoying a private feast alone.”
“What?! You knew?!”
“You think this is my first day living with you?”
“Damn it!”
At that moment—
Rumble.
“Do-ha. Did you feel that?”
“Yeah.”
Whoosh!
A faint vibration rose from the building—more precisely, from beneath it. Do-ha and Canteas launched themselves forward at the same instant.
Thud-thud-thud-thud.
What is this place?
Descending into the underground, Do-ha narrowed his eyes. A spiral stone staircase stretched endlessly downward. How deep had they dug this?
Thud-thud.
Whoosh.
“Huh? You are…”
“Cough… You’re the one… from the carriage…”
Namgung Hak, coughing blood, stared in shock at the newly arrived Do-ha. Why was this man suddenly here?
“G-Great Hero, this place is dangerous—hurry back up!”
Staggering, Namgung Hak waved him away.
What is that?
Yet Do-ha’s gaze ignored the warning and locked onto the far end of the underground chamber, where something stood motionless.
A golem? No… it’s alive? What the hell is that?
It looked like a golem of pure rock, yet writhing living tissue clung to it. At first he thought it was a parasite, but golems were inanimate—parasites could not attach. And yet this one had living flesh fused to it.
“That thing did this to you?”
“Embarrassing as it is… yes.”
“Ohh.”
Strong enough to thrash Namgung Hak, who had reached the extreme of Super-Peak. Whatever it was, curiosity stirred.
“Canteas. Put up a barrier around the building and heal Namgung Hak.”
“You can handle it alone?”
Canteas tilted his head. Namgung Hak at the extreme of Super-Peak was this badly hurt—could one man manage?
“Forgot that worrying about me is the most useless thing in the world?”
“True enough.”
Zwaaaang.
Anti-Magic Heal.
Flash!
“W-wait!”
“Hey, don’t move.”
When Namgung Hak tried to rise, Canteas pinned his shoulder. It was the only healing magic a dark mage like him could cast. Slow, but highly effective—and the patient absolutely could not move during the process. He had originally learned it to restore materials while creating undead.
“We… we have to help him!”
“Just stay still. And watch carefully. You’ll learn a lot.”
“……Pardon?”
Namgung Hak blinked at the words.
Woooom!
Clang!
Ohh.
Do-ha moved his sword and watched the golem react with lightning speed, admiration rising inside. No matter where he aimed, it answered instantly. It even saw through feints perfectly and picked out the true strike.
Then how about this?
Woooom!
Do-ha drew up his internal energy. The tip of his sword trembled, and a pink aura bloomed.
Twenty-Four Hands Plum Blossom Sword Art, Thirteenth Form: Gradual Plum Blossoms.
Chajajajajajak!
Clang-clang-clang.
Splat.
Clang!
Hmm. It reads feints perfectly, but its reaction to variations is slow.
Gradual Plum Blossoms mixed feints and variations; the golem’s response was fascinating. Coincidence?
Let’s check once more.
Woooom!
Retracting his blade, Do-ha gathered energy again. This time the aura shifted completely.
Thirty Demon-Seizing Sword Art, Eighth Form: Demon Blood Cleave.
Splat-splat-splat!
Clang!
Confirmed.
Having unleashed the Sword Demon’s technique, Do-ha nodded. Most of the Thirty Demon-Seizing Sword Art centered on variations. Demon Blood Cleave used a feint only at the very end—and the golem had blocked only that final portion.
A creature that accepts every strike when it’s a variation…
What explained this imbalance?
Swoosh.
“No wonder that kid got wrecked.”
Do-ha glanced back and shook his head. The golem was strong, no question—but only at the entry level of Super-Peak. Still, there was a reason it had beaten Namgung Hak at the extreme of Super-Peak.
Je-wang Geom-hyeong.
Sword scars on the walls and floor showed Namgung Hak had used the Emperor’s Sword Form. Only the family head of the Namgung Clan was permitted to learn it, yet Je-u had taught it to his own son. By clan rules, a mere Young Master should never have received it.
But with the Demon God Cult resurfacing, he must have feared dying before the lineage could continue.
Namgung Je-u had passed the technique to his son out of dread that the sword art’s bloodline would be severed.
And the Emperor’s Sword Form has almost no variations.
One could call it crude and artless, but the Emperor’s Sword Form never retreated. It embodied the principles of the heavy sword rather than the swift sword. Feints existed, yet variations were nearly absent.
Je-u, you idiot… No matter how urgent, teaching a heavy-sword style to a boy who hasn’t even finished the Boundless Blue Sky Sword Art—what were you thinking?
The blade in Namgung Hak’s hand was suited to the swift sword. And Do-ha still remembered the boy years ago on the training grounds, laughing brightly as he practiced the Boundless Blue Sky Sword Art—the art that carried the principles of the swift sword. That had been Namgung Hak’s true path.
“Hey, kid. Drop the Emperor’s Sword Form. It’s clothes that don’t fit you.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Watch closely. This is the Boundless Blue Sky Sword Art.”
Shwaaaak.
Do-ha’s sword flared with energy once more and began to dance with light, effortless grace.