Chapter 160

“Was Grandfather right?”

“No. Not at all.”

There was a simple reason I was flatly denying the words of Mae Jonghak, the great martial artist known as the Sword Saint.

Look at the Sword Saint trying to con me.

Nothing special, my ass.

They said the view changed depending on where you stood. Beyond the wall of the Peak realm I had barely managed to cross, a rugged mountain range awaited me.

I still have a long way to go.

They said there was no end to learning. Martial arts were no different.

I was nothing more than a beginner who had barely gained enlightenment from a casual remark tossed out by the max-level Sword Saint.

Still…

“Thank you.”

When I bowed with those heartfelt words, Cheongpung panicked.

“Benefactor, why are you suddenly doing this?”

“Because I’m grateful. That’s all.”

I knew there were countless martial artists, as numerous as grains of sand on a white-sand beach. I also knew that only a tiny fraction of them reached the Peak realm.

I also knew that even with advanced First Rate martial arts and internal energy, anyone without the enlightenment to match would spend their entire life stuck in place.

If not for Cheongpung, I would have wandered for a long time.

But I had been lucky. Cheongpung had devoted nearly ten days to helping me train, and he had even passed on the Sword Saint’s teachings.

That was far too generous a return for a few candied hawthorn skewers.¹

“Please don’t do this. I barely did anything.”

“Barely? I may be shameless, but I’m not an ungrateful bastard.”

“Huh? Really?”

“…”

Just what did this guy think of me?

As my eyes narrowed, Cheongpung hurriedly waved his hands.

“No, that’s not what you’re thinking.”

“What am I thinking?”

“I mean, it’s just…”

Cheongpung looked around with a lost gaze, then spotted Hyuk Mujin snoring in the corner of the training ground and shouted.

“Young Hero Hyuk! Wake up! This isn’t the time to be sleeping.”

“…”

This was genuinely pathetic.

Hyuk Mujin’s eyes suddenly flew open at Cheongpung’s shout. When he saw me, he spoke as though nothing had happened.

“As expected. I believed in you.”

“…”

This bastard was taking it even further.

“I, Hyuk Mujin, stood guard with the single noble purpose of protecting my Captain.”

“…”

“Enlightenment is hard-won and easily broken. So I stood right here! Eyes wide open! Making sure not even a single rat could get through!”

Forget the rat. You sure seem like a fucking bastard…

I stared at him, saliva stains covering the area around his mouth, and quietly spoke.

“Mujin.”

“Yes, sir!”

“I’ve become a Peak Master, you know?”

“Congratulations!”

“Yeah. And now my body is overflowing with strength. My fists are itching, too.”

“…”

“Guard duty? Rats? If your snoring had been even a little louder, I might have suffered qi deviation, you bastard.”

“…You heard me?”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

He had been snoring so loudly that even my mother in Ilsan probably heard him.

As he scratched the back of his head and grinned sheepishly, I spread my fingers wide.

“This is your last chance. I’m counting to ten, so get out of my sight. One, two, three…”

Dadadadada!

Cheongpung watched Hyuk Mujin flee at tremendous speed and exclaimed in admiration.

“Wow, training really does work! He’s incredibly fast!”

So that was how he interpreted it.

I said to Cheongpung, who was clapping like a seal and looking proud of himself.

“Then let’s start again.”

“Huh?”

“The duel. It isn’t over yet.”

“I’m fine with that, but… Aren’t you tired?”

“Not at all.”

It was a lie. My body, having entered a new realm, was overflowing with vitality, but my mind was utterly exhausted. It felt like the strength had gone out of me after an all-out sprint.

But I wanted to continue sparring with Cheongpung even more.

I want to test it.

Gaining enlightenment was worlds apart from raising my stats with points.

Right now, I felt as though I could unleash martial arts that were entirely new—not merely faster or stronger.

“I’m perfectly fine.”

I said it again, but Cheongpung shook his head.

“My grandfather said rest is also training.”

“Not even once?”

“No. Benefactor, you need to rest now. And…”

“And?”

Cheongpung giggled as he continued.

“I’m going to win anyway. So what’s the point?”

“…!”

“You know that now too, don’t you?”

“That… is true.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but it was a fact.

You could only see as much as you knew. After reaching the Peak realm, I realized all over again just how much of a monster Cheongpung was.

I also realized that, as I was now, I could never defeat him if he fought at full strength.

Unless he went easy on me.

But that was not what I wanted. Winning a duel against an opponent who was not giving his all would only leave a bitter taste.

“Don’t be impatient. For the time being, you’ll have your hands full just absorbing the enlightenment you gained today.”

“Then…”

“Let’s postpone our duel until next time. It’s a shame. I was having fun too.”

Ding.

System

• Quest Sword Saint Training: A Secondhand Experience—2 has been canceled.

• Since the Quest proposer made the decision themselves, you will not receive any penalty.

“Get plenty of rest today!”

I watched Cheongpung’s back recede for a long time before returning to the pavilion.

The System notifications reminded me of the things I had been putting off.

Check messages.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Endless System notifications rang out as all the messages I had yet to check unfolded before my eyes.

I stared at the translucent System window with my mouth hanging open.

How many of these are there?

It looked like I would have to wait quite a while before I could rest.

Hot water sloshed inside the large wooden bathtub.

I had gone several days without washing properly and desperately needed a bath. As soon as I sank into the steaming tub, a moan escaped me.

“Ahhh. This feels great.”

Now I finally felt alive again. After closing my eyes and savoring the sensation for a while, I opened the System window.

“Check messages.”

Ding. Ding. Ding.

System messages poured out like water bursting through a broken dam. I read them one by one.

System

• You have successfully completed Quest Beyond the Wall!

• Your class has changed to Peak Master!

• You have acquired a massive amount of EXP!

• Level up!

• Level up!

• Level up!

• Level up!

• Level up!

Oh. I gained five Levels at once?

Someone might think that was stingy, but not me.

The Murim was another reality, but I was practically a game character here.

Back when I was a beginner, killing a single bandit could raise my Level. Things were different now. The amount of EXP required kept increasing, and my leveling speed had been slowing down accordingly.

This is more than enough.

But the rewards did not end there.

System

• The realm of Jin Family’s Cultivation Technique has risen to the ninth stage.

• You can now acquire more internal energy with greater stability.

• The realm of Qi Sense has risen to the seventh stage.

• You can detect targets at Level 90 or below within 70 meters.

• You have acquired EXP due to the dramatic advancement of your martial arts.

• Level up!

• Level up!

I was already satisfied that the realms of Jin Family’s Cultivation Technique and Qi Sense, which had stagnated for so long, had risen. Gaining two more Levels on top of that was a double blessing.

Just from the messages I had seen so far, I had already leveled up seven times.

Now that’s a proper reward.

I smiled contentedly and continued reading the other messages.

System

• A Peak Master is a powerhouse capable of leading an entire school. You can create your own martial art and establish a new sect.

• You have gained insight into the manipulation of internal energy that you had not known before. Through training, you can use the new Skill Sound Transmission.

Creating a sect and inventing martial arts.

The System was certainly giving me the full Peak Master treatment. It was worlds apart from how I had been treated as a First Rate martial artist.

Well, I am a Peak Master now.

Shanxi was crawling with thousands of martial artists. Even so, there were fewer than twenty Peak masters.

I didn’t know how things were in the Central Plains, but at least in Shanxi Province, that was what it meant to be a Peak master.

But none of that is very useful to me.

I didn’t know anything about inventing martial arts yet, and I had no intention of founding a new sect. Why would I leave the dependable Jin Family of Taiyuan?

More importantly…

Sound Transmission is good. Very good.

Sound Transmission. A technique for secretly transmitting sound through internal energy.

I couldn’t think of any immediate use for the first two, but Sound Transmission had considerable practical value.

It would require training, but that was no problem.

Only three left now?

The countless message windows had all disappeared, leaving exactly three.

With equal parts relief and regret, I checked the remaining messages.

Ding.

System

• Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron has been added to your Inventory.

• A martial artist and their weapon are one body. Finding a weapon capable of drawing out all of one’s strength is also a martial artist’s duty.

• Quest Find the Craftsman has been created.

“…Huh?”

Northern Gaoyuan.

This land had once been home to the nomadic empire founded by a great ruler. But it had changed with the passage of time.

The vast pastures covered in green grass were gradually disappearing, and wooden buildings from the Central Plains were beginning to replace the gers, the nomads’ homes.²

The customs of the nomads still remained, but the clothing and culture of the Central Plains were slowly infiltrating the plateau.

The man draped in sheepskin did not like it.

“Han Chinese bastards swarming the sacred grasslands.”

“Temur, bear with it. It’s not as if this started today or yesterday.”

“Chinggen. We are descendants of the khans. We must not forget that.”

“I haven’t forgotten. I’m simply telling you not to forget what kind of gathering this is.”

“Damn it. An inn instead of a perfectly good ger.”

Temur and Chinggen, two chieftains who each commanded a hundred tribespeople, entered the inn.

Built by Han Chinese who called themselves mounted bandits, it was the only establishment of its kind in Northern Gaoyuan—and it was enormous to match.

The moment the two men stepped inside, they saw mounted bandits packed all the way to the upper floor, along with two men seated at the center of the crowd.

“Ha-ha-ha! The chieftains of the Great Steppe have arrived! Come, sit. I’ve warmed some mare’s-milk wine for you.”³

Unlike the middle-aged man who welcomed them with both arms spread wide, the other man did not so much as nod. He merely gestured.

“Sit.”

“…!”

“…!”

Veins bulged on Temur and Chinggen’s foreheads.

Who were they? They were descendants of the Great Khan who had once crossed the steppe and ruled the Central Plains.

It had happened centuries ago, but their pride had never died.

“You Han Chinese bastard, lower than a dog!”

Temur was hot-tempered and reckless by nature. Before Chinggen could stop him, his hand seized his curved saber.

“I’ll offer your head to the god Tengger—”⁴

And that was when it happened.

“I said sit.”

The voice was cold, and the eyes were like an abyss. Even Temur, who led a tribe across the harsh steppe, found himself unable to draw his saber.

Seizing the moment, Chinggen hurriedly grabbed Temur by the shoulder and whispered so quietly that he could barely be heard.

“Temur, don’t act rashly. You know who he is, don’t you?”

Temur swallowed.

Four people had gathered here today. They had never met before, but each was a powerhouse who held up one of the major forces of Northern Gaoyuan.

But if there was a master capable of intimidating him this badly…

There was only one person.

The Human Butcher.

No one knew his surname. No one knew his name.

No one knew where he came from or what he had done.

He was Han Chinese, and he had ridden across the steppe with only fifty subordinates. He had earned the nickname Human Butcher because he killed people as though slaughtering livestock.

In other words, he was a butcher of men.

“You’re a slow one, friend.”