Chapter 248
Chapter 248
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 248
Chapter Title: Yang Gwak, Baek Yahyo, and Hyeon-gong
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The moment Yang Gwak, leader of the Supreme Sword Sect, heard Yu Jingwang's story, he realized it wasn't an empty threat—that the man truly meant to pierce his heart.
'What should I do now?'
Yang Gwak was left with just two simple choices.
First, to bow subserviently and stay in the Wudang Sect as long as possible, biding his time for a chance at survival.
Second, to face death with dignity and lend even a little weight to his own tale.
Naturally, the heart of the Supreme Sword Sect leader leaned toward the former. That was how he had lived his entire life.
On the day the Salmak assassins burned alive in their mountain stronghold, Yang Gwak hadn't uttered a single word before Dang Mujin.
It had been the same when he'd come to the Wudang Sect and faced Dang Mujin. Fearing that Dang Mujin would come for him if he returned to the Supreme Sword Sect, he'd shamefully abandoned his sect and fled.
'That's always been me.'
In that instant, disillusionment filled the body and mind of Supreme Sword Sect leader Yang Gwak.
Not disillusionment with the world, but with his own feeble, powerless self.
From the past to the present, his life as Supreme Sword Sect leader had been filled with emptiness and regret. It would surely be the same in the future.
'What a tiresome life.'
A life stained and battered by being swept along, tossed about, and running away at every turn.
Even if he scrambled for a way to survive, the odds of escaping Yu Jingwang's gaze and living on were slim.
Yang Gwak widened his eyes. He hadn't come all the way to Wudang Mountain just to run away.
If mere survival through flight had been his sole goal, he would have shaken off any grudges long ago. He wouldn't have harbored resentment for years or risked everything to come to Wudang Mountain.
Thus, for the first time in his life, Supreme Sword Sect leader Yang Gwak mustered his courage and shouted.
"I'm no coward who flees from battle! If you have grievances, follow me out!"
His jaw trembled so violently it seemed his teeth might chatter like a frightened child's. The Supreme Sword Sect leader clenched his molars tight.
'Did he notice my fear? No. He won't have picked up on something this subtle.'
But contrary to the Supreme Sword Sect leader's expectations, the other martial artists had indeed sensed the fear he felt. They simply didn't show it.
Those who have never drawn a sword against an enemy or faced fear head-on believe courage and resolve must be flawless and unyielding. Yang Gwak, leader of the Supreme Sword Sect, was just such a man.
But the other martial artists, having confronted fear themselves, knew no such perfection existed.
To the warriors across the Central Plains martial world, the Supreme Sword Sect leader seemed a fairly courageous man at that moment, at least.
Hiding his shaking legs, the Supreme Sword Sect leader headed out of Namhwa Pavilion.
Yu Jingwang and Dang Mujin followed him, and the warriors gathered in Namhwa Pavilion trailed behind Yu Jingwang and Dang Mujin. Even Elder Yeongbo, carried on Hyeon-gong's back, mingled among the crowd.
Before long, the Sword Rack came into view.
What was stored in the Sword Rack wasn't Yang Gwak's sword—it was his life. The moment he drew the sword from the rack, he would die.
Yang Gwak reflected on his past.
Unlike his exceptional father, he had fallen short of expectations. Yang Gwak revered his father like the heavens.
Yet Dang Mujin was a once-in-a-millennium prodigy who had surpassed his father at a young age. Yu Jingwang stood far above even him.
'I'm just an insect.'
Yang Gwak knew his place. He lacked the ability to stand against such towering geniuses.
Forget stabbing them in the back—he couldn't even leave a scratch.
But in this moment, Yang Gwak resolved to become not a mere bug hiding under fallen leaves to cling to life, but a honeybee that stings once and dies.
Even if he sacrificed his life, all he could leave on Dang Mujin would be a fleeting sting. Yet he desperately wanted even that chance.
Yang Gwak steadied himself.
'This is my last chance.'
Yang Gwak retrieved his sword from the Sword Rack and stepped out.
Before him stood Yu Jingwang, sword lowered. A transcendent master, one of the famed Six Venerables whose name shook the world.
A man standing at an impossibly high, impossibly distant peak. Even if Yang Gwak died and revived ten times over, he could never reach him.
Yet Yang Gwak raised his sword.
Yu Jingwang raised his as well. It was no ordinary stance, by any measure. Holding his sword horizontally, he lifted both arms high and drew them back, until the hands gripping the hilt were beside his right ear.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed like mockery—but Yu Jingwang didn't look like a man who would swing in jest. It had to be the preparatory stance for some extraordinary technique.
Yang Gwak cried out.
"Come, then! Behold the Radiant Light Sword of Yang Gwak, leader of the Supreme Sword Sect!"
But Yang Gwak couldn't charge. Someone blocked his path to Yu Jingwang: Dang Mujin.
"This isn't something to leave to Elder Yu."
"I'm fine."
"It's not a matter of being fine. It's something I must do."
"...If you see it that way, then go ahead."
At Dang Mujin's words, Yu Jingwang lowered his sword and stepped back.
Now that Dang Mujin had raised his sword and stepped forward, Yang Gwak's heart pounded even harder.
Yang Gwak knew it. Even if Yu Jingwang was beyond his reach, so too was Dang Mujin.
Yet somehow, possibility glimmered before him.
Dang Mujin naturally raised his sword tip. Everyone around held their breath.
Dang Mujin had no intention of yielding the first move.
He had never lived by swinging his sword lightly up to now. When life hung in the balance, one always gave their all.
Clenching his molars to seize the initiative, Yang Gwak charged at Dang Mujin.
But the instant Yang Gwak took two steps with footwork, something like a ray of light pierced toward his chest.
'A thrust!'
With Yang Gwak's eyesight, he couldn't even properly see Dang Mujin's sword.
Yet his survival instinct, honed on the edge of a blade, shone through.
Yang Gwak executed the most perfect defense of his life against the sword he could barely see.
And astonishingly, he cleanly deflected Dang Mujin's blade.
'I blocked it! I did it!'
Ecstasy threatened to set Yang Gwak's mind ablaze.
'I can do this!'
But in the very next moment, Yang Gwak felt a sharp pain in his chest.
He looked down. A keen sword was embedded in the center of his chest.
What Yang Gwak had deflected first wasn't Dang Mujin's killing blow.
It was merely one path among the countless sword paths Dang Mujin could unleash—a sword that could strike again if blocked.
Blood trickled from Yang Gwak's mouth. If only he'd had a bit more talent. If only he'd trained a little harder. If only he could have blocked two or three more strikes.
Regret stung. But there were no second thoughts.
The honeybee's venom wasn't carried in the sword.
'Father. Your unworthy son has finally done it once.'
The Supreme Sword Sect leader died with a smile curling his lips.
*
Hoo—
Dang Mujin sheathed his sword with a sigh.
'Something feels off.'
It wasn't because he hadn't won in a single strike.
For a life-or-death duel between a peak expert and a first-rate, it had ended rather quickly. In fact, some warriors seemed to think Dang Mujin's prowess exceeded expectations.
Yet most gazes fixed not on the victorious Dang Mujin, but on the corpse of the defeated Supreme Sword Sect leader—on the man who had charged toward death despite his fear.
Everyone present possessed notable talent. To them, the Supreme Sword Sect leader's skills were unremarkable.
Yet he was no trash. How many warriors in the world could stride straight toward death?
The people reflected on the Supreme Sword Sect leader's tale.
Sometimes, the vanquished gains more than the victor.
That was precisely what Dang Mujin had worried about, and why the Supreme Sword Sect leader hadn't backed down even before death.
Guessing at the crowd's inner thoughts, Dang Mujin let out a deep sigh.
*
Returning to Namhwa Pavilion, Dang Mujin began explaining the situation to the gathered people.
The enmity between the Je Yuan Baek Clan, Salmak, and the Demonic Physician.
The previous Supreme Sword Sect leader and the people of Nokgun Mountain.
The suspicious research of the Sima Family, whose details couldn't be fully disclosed.
And extending to the Kongtong Sect and the Jeomchang Sect.
Dang Mujin's account fit together seamlessly, without contradiction.
Moreover, Sin Seung and Yu Jingwang actively testified on the related matters, so the crowd grudgingly accepted it.
Some topics needed no testimony at all. Salmak.
"Yi Yong. You wiped out Salmak?"
"I merely lent a hand."
"From the story, it sounds like more than that... No wonder. I haven't heard tales of Salmak rampaging these past few years."
But a greater issue remained. Regardless of the details, the fact that demonic cult warriors led by the Three-Eyed Demon were lingering at the Dang family estate. It was an undeniable, unsettling truth.
Unable to fully shake their doubts, the people judged based not on trust, but on pragmatism.
Conveniently, Dang Mujin and the demonic cult warriors' story provided a perfect excuse.
"If the demonic cult stirs, the Shandong Evil clans will rush faster than anyone. We promise."
"The Moyong family will set out the moment we receive word."
Pleasing words, but ultimately, they meant reluctance to strike the demonic cult first.
At this point, even those like Yu Yu Doin and Yeongheo-ja, who had advocated aggressively attacking the demonic cult, lost their momentum.
'Should we strike the demonic cult ourselves? Do we even have a chance?'
'Is it right for us to sacrifice while others sit back and watch?'
Yu Yu Doin glared at the crowd, shifting his ankles restlessly. He'd already warned them—when the demonic cult came, they could just flee with all their might.
The meeting fizzled out ambiguously. As the Supreme Sword Sect leader had hoped, he became an obstacle for Dang Mujin. Not merely that, but for the entire righteous martial world.
Before the crowd dispersed, Yeongheo-ja spoke in desperation, grasping at straws.
"If we end up having similar discussions someday, gather at Wudang Mountain when word comes."
No one was brazen enough to refuse even such a shameless retreat. The people murmured assent.
"Well, that's not hard."
"What shall we call the alliance?"
Elder Yeongbo nearly said Righteous Heaven Alliance but held his tongue.
The Righteous Heaven Alliance was a name the Wudang Sect had used when absorbing minor sects.
With the Supreme Sword Sect now fallen among its few affiliates—and its leader dead that very day—it wouldn't look good to propose it.
Thus, the Shaolin monk Sin Seung interjected.
"What does the name matter? Let's just call it the Martial Alliance. There are no other notable gatherings left. For alliance leader... Elder Yeongbo or Yeongheo-ja could take it. No one will object."
Though the Sima family had been wiped out and its scale reduced, no righteous martial organization rivaled the Martial Alliance in size. It even included Shaolin Temple and the Beggars' Sect.
Yielding the leadership seat was a consideration for the deeply disheartened Yeongheo-ja.
"Very well. Thank you all for your valuable time."
The crowd exchanged light farewells and began drifting away.
But Yu Jingwang's business wasn't finished. Scanning the area, he finally spotted Kongtong Sect leader Baek Yahyo.
"Leader Baek. A word?"
"What is it?"
Baek Yahyo strode over and stood a short distance from Yu Jingwang.
Yu Jingwang hadn't noticed at first glance, but Baek Yahyo was taller than he appeared. His head was half a size larger than Yu Jingwang's average build.
"It's good that the righteous factions have gained another transcendent master, but something bothers me. When exactly did you become Kongtong Sect leader?"
Baek Yahyo replied lightly, as if it were a trivial curiosity.
"Less than a year ago. I became leader shortly after joining the Kongtong Sect, so I'm still not used to the title."
Mulang-ja's death and the burning of Hwan'gol Pavilion had been precisely two years ago. Yu Jingwang pressed further.
"There was over a year between Mulang-ja's death and your ascension... Was the leadership seat empty that whole time?"
Baek Yahyo waved it off.
"Of course not. Elder Sangyu temporarily took the role after Mulang-ja, but he stepped down shortly after I joined the Kongtong Sect."
It was Dang Mujin's first time hearing the dharma name Sangyu Doin. But the experienced Yu Jingwang knew of him.
However, as far as Yu Jingwang knew, Sangyu Doin wasn't skilled enough to lead a massive sect like Kongtong.
'After Baek Yahyo joined, the burdensome leadership passed to him, and he retired.'
The situation made sense. With such a skill gap, the superior's authority wouldn't hold.
The Kongtong Sect often elevated or passed leadership based on martial prowess, so Sangyu Doin's retirement was natural.
Yu Jingwang said to Baek Yahyo,
"Understood. But no matter how I look at it, you still rub me the wrong way."
"What about me troubles you so?"
Baek Yahyo consistently humbled himself before Yu Jingwang, who was at least ten years his junior. Yu Jingwang found such types uncomfortable. To avoid being swayed, he spoke bluntly.
"I'll grant arriving late to the meeting, but bringing the Supreme Sword Sect leader along—that bothers me. Don't you have some ulterior motive?"
"Ulterior motive? I merely ran into him on the way to Wudang Mountain. Are you suspecting me because of his story?"
Baek Yahyo spoke with a troubled expression.
Yu Jingwang—and Dang Mujin too—stared silently at Baek Yahyo without answering. In the end, Baek Yahyo sighed deeply.
"I don't yet know how the righteous martial world operates. I just heard his tale, pitied him, and traveled together. I don't endorse his words. Please dispel your suspicions."
It felt suspicious, yet his demeanor made further pressing difficult. Finally, Yu Jingwang left one last word for Baek Yahyo.
"I'll be watching the Kongtong Sect closely from now on."
"As my experience is lacking, I'll always heed your advice attentively."
Yu Jingwang turned away and spat curtly. Slick to the end.
Baek Yahyo watched Yu Jingwang's retreating back for a moment, then smiled faintly and left Wudang Mountain.
*
The people who had flooded in from across the Central Plains dispersed as if by magic, all in half a day. By evening, the only outsiders left at the Wudang Sect were Dang Mujin's group.
Dang Mujin had no further business at the Wudang Sect. Neither did Hong Geolgae. But Hyeon-gong did.
"I'll be back."
As Hyeon-gong rose, Hong Geolgae said from where he lounged on the floor.
"Smash it all to hell and quit the Daoist life while you're at it. You've done your twenty years as a Daoist."
"Don't talk nonsense."
"It's true. Your nature suits a Beggars' Sect disciple better than a Daoist."
"Sounds like you're cursing me out."
Deep into the night, Hyeon-gong grumbled as he left the guest hall.
To display his achievements, he went to see Elder Yeongbo.
When Hyeon-gong slid open the door to the Hyeoncheon Hall leader's room, Elder Yeongbo sat with his back to it.
"Hyeon-gong. Come this way."
"Yes."
Hyeon-gong trotted over to a spot facing Elder Yeongbo—the farthest from the entrance.
Elder Yeongbo's gaze went to the sword hanging at Hyeon-gong's waist.
Hyeon-gong clasped his hands in greeting and bowed slightly toward Elder Yeongbo.
Something felt off. Normally, Songmun High Sword would hang on the wall with the others, yet it lay across Elder Yeongbo's thigh.
Elder Yeongbo spoke in his usual gentle voice.
"You've come well."
Hyeon-gong sensed something strange in Elder Yeongbo's words.
He had been in the Wudang Sect grounds for about half a month and had greeted Elder Yeongbo then.
He had visited every few days since.
Yet now, this 'you've come well' felt oddly out of place.
'Has senility set in? Well, at his age, it's possible. Does that mean the leadership seat goes vacant? Bad timing. I'm too young to take it. Better if he holds on as long as possible before retiring...'
'No. It might not mean that. Maybe just 'good you came late at night.''
As Hyeon-gong's mind raced, Elder Yeongbo added one more line.
"And go well."
"...Pardon?"
The moment Hyeon-gong slightly raised his head, the Songmun High Sword in Elder Yeongbo's hand grazed his throat.