Chapter 343
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 343
Chapter Title: What the Hell is This Place?
Un Gyo-tak stared blankly up at the ceiling of the room where he lay.
'A total defeat.'
He had boasted boldly to his older brother, the Rim Lord, before storming off.
Only to suffer such a humiliating loss.
This news would surely reach Dorim.
He was too ashamed to even think of returning to the Rim.
No.
Before that, he had to take care of the task he'd been given.
Deciding on the instructors Dorim would dispatch to the Dragon Training Pavilion.
The official letter hadn't been sent just to create a pretext.
It was real work that needed doing.
"Ugh."
Was it because he'd gotten worked up?
Pain throbbed from deep within his dantian.
He'd really taken a beating.
And from just a single sword strike, no less.
An internal injury that would require at least a month of rest.
Circulating his qi required extreme caution. The wounds to his dantian and meridians ran deep.
While freeloading at the Pavilion's infirmary, he downed medicine on schedule and handled his duties.
'For now, scrap the plan to send an instructor to the Fierce Dragon Corps. Not with that damned bastard as the chief instructor.'
No telling what would happen to a Dorim instructor serving under that guy.
So, no instructor for the Fierce Dragon Corps this time either.
That left just sending one to the Wa Dragon Corps.
'Han Pyeong. Trash like him won't do.'
After the Han Pyeong incident,
Dorim had done some internal cleanup on their own.
Naturally, a few names came to mind.
He scribbled three names in one go on the paper spread across the makeshift desk.
Dorim's dispatch would consist of four instructors total.
The spot for the final name remained blank.
Un Gyo-tak stared at it vacantly.
"Still a bit of time left. Whew."
With a sigh, he climbed back onto the bed.
He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began circulating his qi.
Slowly, gently.
Cautiously, carefully.
And as he did,
Un Gyo-tak recalled the final stance of the Heaven-Extinguishing Demon Blade he had unleashed that day.
Without a doubt,
it had felt somehow different from the same stance before.
It was clearly the most powerful and refined execution he'd ever achieved.
Yet he'd still lost. The fact gnawed at him bitterly.
Even as he circulated his qi slowly and softly, Un Gyo-tak sank into deep contemplation of his swordsmanship.
The Fierce Dragon Corps' group training had ended.
Was it because of yesterday's events?
The trainees' focus was on another level entirely.
They threw themselves wholeheartedly into blocking Instructor Ha Mu-baek's every move during spars.
They'd always given it their all, but
today's intensity was different.
Thanks to that, Ha Mu-baek had quite a fun time himself.
"Alright. That's enough."
Ha Mu-baek smirked as he sheathed his wooden sword.
The trainees bowed deeply and dispersed. Awe for Ha Mu-baek still filled their eyes.
As expected.
Nothing drove the point home faster than showing them firsthand.
He hadn't intended it that way, but
"Um, Instructor."
The ones left behind after the trainees departed were, predictably, the seven from the second-year Squad Seven.
Dang Jin-san approached cautiously.
"What?"
"Is everything... okay?"
"What do you mean?"
Ha Mu-baek's utterly baffled expression met Dang Jin-san's worried question.
As if to say, What kind of problem could that possibly be?
After everything they'd witnessed from him lately, how could he even ask?
At that reaction,
Dang Jin-san subtly turned his head.
Ha Seol-ran's gaze met his at the end of that look.
Ha Seol-ran let out a sigh of relief.
"W-Well, still. He's the Rim Lord's brother, right? First the son, now the brother too..."
Dang Jin-san pressed again, his face saying even so.
Yes.
Dorim.
Dorim Sect.
The sect that produced the world's greatest martial artist, Righteous Heaven Alliance Leader So Hwi-woong—one of the Eight New Sects.
And he'd beaten the crap out of both the Rim Lord's son and his brother.
How could he be so nonchalant about it?
"Dorim's Rim Lord has more sense than you'd think. No idea what's wrong with his underlings, though."
Dang Jin-san stared at him blankly at Ha Mu-baek's response.
Was he really talking about Dorim's Rim Lord like he was the guy next door?
"Besides, I hear the internal injuries are pretty severe... They'll need at least a month to heal..."
The trainees' eyes turned to Dang Jin-san at his mutter.
How do you know that?
Un Gyo-tak had been carried into the infirmary just yesterday.
How could Dang Jin-san have the infirmary's intel after just one day?
The king of connections was the king for a reason.
Ha Mu-baek chuckled.
"Injuries that take a month to heal... Well, if that's all it is, then that's the extent of the guy's skill."
Ha Mu-baek muttered.
"Huh?"
Dang Jin-san blinked in confusion, but
Ha Mu-baek turned and walked away.
"Worry about your own asses."
Thud. Thud.
And with that, Ha Mu-baek departed.
"What the heck does that mean?"
Dang Jin-san cocked his head, turning to the others.
They just shrugged.
Utterly inscrutable.
Internal injuries that might not end as just internal injuries?
'Thank goodness.'
Ha Seol-ran simply patted her chest in relief.
Yesterday,
after training ended,
she'd overheard Wa Dragon Corps trainees talking at the Devouring Dragon Pavilion and worried.
Their stories had all focused on how amazing Dorim Sect was.
Thud.
He took a single step.
The toxic energy pouring from his body advanced exactly that far.
And death descended upon the surroundings.
Nothing could resist the poison emanating from Myo Gu-eung's body.
Countless poisonous plants withered and twisted.
The venomous creatures fared no better.
Venomous beasts that had swarmed from afar, drawn by the scent of his poison,
melted into puddles of venom or shriveled the moment they entered its range.
Three-Eyed Unicorn Serpent, Five-Colored Poison Toad, Twin-Headed Wu Conger, Five Poisons Spider.
Even these monstrously toxic creatures
—the very ones Myo Gu-eung had once devoured to acquire their poisons—
he didn't even glance at now.
How far had he walked?
Myo Gu-eung glanced back casually.
When he'd first regained consciousness, he hadn't noticed.
His senses had already mapped everything in his mind.
It had felt too natural, like perceiving through senses alone.
That's what he'd thought.
But no.
His eyesight had returned.
Ten-Thousand-Year Poison Crystal.
What an extraordinary treasure.
His restored eyes clearly beheld
the path of death stretching behind him.
A land filled only with poison, devoid of even a speck of life.
"Good."
Myo Gu-eung nodded in satisfaction.
Smiling, he drew the toxic energy billowing from his body back inside.
It vanished clean away.
Astonishing.
He could control its emission and withdrawal at will.
"Supreme Poison Scripture. Indeed. Keh heh heh heh."
Just as the manual described.
Now, nothing frightened him.
That single phrase in the manual—"Peerless Under Heaven"—was no empty boast.
As if his test were over,
Myo Gu-eung kicked off the ground.
"Heavenly Poison Valley. Wait for me. Soon, nothing but death will remain there."
His naked form vanished in an instant into the dense southern barbarian jungle.
"Hm? What's this?"
So Hwi-woong, returning to duties after long seclusion in training, smirked at the letter from Dorim.
Un Gyo-tak had gone to the Dragon Training Pavilion to straighten out Ha Mu-baek's attitude.
Judging by the letter's arrival, the matter was already settled.
"Wonder if Junior Brother Un got his attitude fixed."
So Hwi-woong muttered with a grin.
Un Gyo-tak was indeed Dorim's strongest these days.
Excluding the previous generation's masters.
But even so, he still hadn't surpassed the first stage of the Heaven-Severing Demon-Slaying Blade.
Ha Mu-baek had So Hwi-woong himself—who had reached the second stage—at best evenly matched, or more likely losing.
How could Un Gyo-tak?
"Well, if getting crushed gives him some insight, that'd be nice... But with that attitude, probably not."
So Hwi-woong thought of the two he knew.
Un Gyo-tak.
Ha Mu-baek.
Both of them,
such insufferable attitudes...
Around the same time,
Un Gyo-cheol was reading a letter from the Dragon Training Pavilion.
It was a delicate matter from their perspective,
so Pavilion Lord Pang Do-yul had penned it with utmost care.
"Well, I figured as much."
It detailed exactly how Un Gyo-tak had lost to Ha Mu-baek.
Injuries requiring a full month of rest, no less.
"If only he sees there's a sky beyond the sky and gains something from it..."
Whether his brother would acknowledge a greater power remained to be seen.
Seven days.
Exactly that much time had passed since entering the Dragon Training Pavilion's infirmary.
The pain in his dantian had eased somewhat.
Yet
Un Gyo-tak's face had grown gaunt.
It should have improved as his injuries healed.
Instead, it had withered.
There was good reason.
The Heaven-Extinguishing Demon Blade he'd unleashed.
Something had seemed on the verge of dawning from that sensation, but it eluded him.
His injuries prevented retrying it.
So he brooded alone, frustration piling on frustration, hollowing his features.
"Haa."
A sigh escaped.
That fleeting glimpse refused to reappear.
Maybe swinging a sword would help it emerge,
but his injuries still prevented proper qi circulation.
Forcing it would only aggravate the healing wounds.
"Damn it. That Ha Mu-baek bastard."
A curse slipped out.
He should have gone easier.
If not for being smashed like this,
he could have pursued that breakthrough in his swordsmanship.
Frustration and anxiety gnawed at him.
No knowing when this feeling would fade.
He kicked off the bed and rose.
Draping his outer robe over his shoulders, he stepped outside.
Since yesterday, light walks had become possible.
Deep night.
The air was still hot, but the lingering injury made it feel chilly instead.
Thud. Thud.
As if headed somewhere specific,
Un Gyo-tak strode purposefully along the Pavilion paths—not a mere stroll.
His destination: the grand training ground.
But it was empty.
Un Gyo-tak frowned.
Deep down, he'd known it would be.
Still, irritation surged at not finding the one he sought.
"What brings you here at this hour?"
A sudden voice from behind startled him into whipping around.
Injured or not,
someone approaching that close without sensing their presence?
There stood
an old man with long white beard?
No.
Was he even old?
His face bore scarcely any wrinkles.
His frame was imposing,
and the muscles bulging beneath his clothes suggested immense power.
Such a man held a broom, gazing at him.
A broom? Of all things.
"Wh-who are you?"
Un Gyo-tak's voice trembled unwittingly.
"Just a Pavilion handyman. Sun's long down, and you don't look like Pavilion folk, so I asked."
Un Gyo-tak eyed the man suspiciously at the reply.
How could someone like this be a mere handyman?
"I'm from Dorim, here on official business. Looking for someone, stopped by. Wrong time, it seems."
Polite words flowed out unbidden.
Because of Ha Mu-baek?
Or because this man seemed extraordinary?
For the ever-confident Un Gyo-tak, it was highly unusual.
"Hmm."
The old man eyed Un Gyo-tak steadily.
"You seem awfully hot-tempered. No one comes to the grand training ground this late. Take it easy with everything. Rush too much, and you won't accomplish what you could—or what you should."
Un Gyo-tak bristled, ready to snap back.
But
the old man's next words came quick.
"What you take for granted might not be. But your impatience blinds you. Ease up."
The old man turned with his broom and departed.
Or seemed to,
then paused and looked back.
"Oh, and I just finished cleaning the grand training ground. Don't go wandering in."
With that, as if he'd said his piece, he resumed sweeping from a distance.
The picture of a handyman.
Un Gyo-tak cocked his head, then trudged back to the infirmary, deflated.
There, he slumped at the desk.
The paper still bore the three instructors' names.
Time to send it off.
Tomorrow at the latest.
"Take it easy? Impatience makes the obvious seem obvious?"
Un Gyo-tak mulled the old man's words.
For a moment, something brushed his mind.
He pondered deeper.
"Damn it. Goddamn it. What the hell is this place?"
Muttering,
he took up the brush, scrawled the fourth name in a single stroke, and climbed back onto the bed, sitting cross-legged.
The fourth name.
Un Gyo-tak.