Chapter 255

Crash!

Jeok Cheongang shot to his feet, not even noticing the chair toppling behind him.

Every one of his senses was focused on a single person: Jongni Chu.

“This is…”

The moment had been so brief it could scarcely be called an instant, but he had definitely felt it.

The wave of qi emanating from Jongni Chu had been powerful enough to make his eyes fly open.

“Returning to Simplicity… He was hiding his strength.”

Dharma King Hong Dao groaned the words, his voice filled with sheer astonishment.

Returning to Simplicity. It was a realm that allowed a martial artist to appear no different from an ordinary person. Their bulging temples flattened, and they could control their aura at will.

To reach such a realm, one had to set foot beyond Peak—

into the realm of supreme mastery permitted only to the greatest martial artists.

“That young punk is a Supreme Peak master? Have you all gone mad? How could that possibly make sense?”

At the Thunderbolt Saber King’s barrage of questions, Hong Dao and Jeok Cheongang shook their heads.

“Amitabha.¹ Then how would you explain this, Benefactor Peng?”

“He has reached the realm of Returning to Simplicity. Enough to deceive even our eyes completely.”

The people in the seats of honor, who had been listening closely to the three men’s conversation, gaped in shock.

Jongni Chu had scraped through every round from the preliminaries onward, always advancing by the narrowest of margins. Why else would people have given him the mocking nickname Life-Sustaining Sword?

But no longer.

The qi they had sensed from that supposedly lucky young martial artist, brief though it had been, was powerful enough to send chills down the spines of even the leaders of the Nine Sects and One Gang and the Family Heads of the Five Great Families.

“What in the world…”

The Thunderbolt Saber King fell silent.

He, too, was a Supreme Peak master and one of the Ten Kings. Deep down, he agreed with Jeok Cheongang and Hong Dao, but he could not bring himself to accept it so easily.

“How could someone who isn’t even thirty be a Supreme Peak master?”

As the Thunderbolt Saber King muttered in dismay, someone who had been silently observing the situation spoke up.

“It’s possible.”

“What?”

Every head turned in the same direction.

Their gazes demanded an explanation, and Thousand-Faced Fox Song Ho gave them one.

“If he has Returned to Youth.”

“…!”

Leaving the shock spreading through the gathering behind him, Song Ho leaned back in his chair and stared at Jongni Chu with brooding eyes.

Who are you?

The more the question swelled within him, the worse the pain grew at the stump where his leg had been severed decades ago.

Song Ho knew now.

This was no mere coincidence.

Jongni Chu was closely connected to the day he had lost his leg.

Show me your true face.

At that moment, the judge’s flag shot into the air.

Whoosh!

A red arc swept through the air without hesitation. Cheongpung had stood there blinking, and by the time he twisted aside, it was already too late.

Jongni Chu’s strike was faster than he had expected.

Slice!

A searing pain spread across his chest. The long slash through the front of his robe welled with beads of crimson.

The sharp scent of blood stung his nose.

“…Ah.”

Cheongpung stumbled backward and stared blankly at Jongni Chu.

His friend—or rather, the man he had thought was his friend—gazed back with disconcerting calm.

“Too bad. It was too shallow.”

Just as Jongni Chu had said, the wound was shallow. The blade had only grazed the skin, leaving no deeper injury.

But Cheongpung’s wound was not merely one of flesh.

“J-Jongni Chu.”

He was the first friend Cheongpung had ever made in the Murim—no, in all his twenty-two years of life.

The man who had first held out a hand and asked to be friends was now pointing a sword at him. Without the slightest hesitation, he had swung it and cut Cheongpung across the chest.

“Why…?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Jongni Chu casually flicked the blood from his sword.

“This is the Murim, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you completely trusted someone you’d only just met after exchanging a few words.”

“…!”

“Judging by your expression, you did. How have you survived this long with so little sense? I heard you were a Disciple of Huashan.”

He glanced at the Heavenly Sword True Person, the Huashan Sect Leader seated among the honored guests, and clicked his tongue.

“The Sect Leader did a terrible job teaching his Disciple. Pathetic.”

At those words, Cheongpung’s tightly pressed lips parted. Unlike before, his voice was low and formal.

“The person who taught me martial arts was my grandfather. Not that man.”

“Really? Whoever he is, he must be a senile old fool. What’s the old man’s epithet?”

“The Sword Saint.”

“The Sword Saint Mae Jonghak?”

Cheongpung nodded, and astonished cries burst from the silent stands.

Not a single person present was unfamiliar with the illustrious name of Sword Saint Mae Jonghak. He had long since become a living legend.

And now the Disciple of the Sword Saint, who had vanished for decades, had appeared.

Right here!

Countless eyes widened in shock. Only one man remained unmoved.

“The Sword Saint’s Disciple…”

Jongni Chu stroked his smooth chin out of habit, then gave a quiet laugh.

“Then the Sword Saint is nothing special either.”

“…!”

“A child is still a child, no matter how strong he is. You shouldn’t carelessly leave one by a river. Look away for a moment, and the current will sweep him off.”

Cheongpung suddenly remembered something his grandfather had always told him.

Always remember this. The world is vast, and there are many strong people. Your martial arts are not yet complete, so you must always beware those who harbor malicious intent.

At the time, those words had meant little to him. Huashan had been peaceful, and his days with Mae Jonghak had been happy.

But his curiosity about the outside world had grown with each passing day, until he finally left without his grandfather’s knowledge.

And then…

Ah. So this was what he meant.

Only now did he understand.

It merely hurt that he had needed to bleed by the sword of his first-ever friend before realizing it.

Grandpa.

Cheongpung tightened his grip on his sword hilt. The scent of blood lingering beneath his nose faded, and his mind cleared.

Ssshing.

With a sound that set his hair on end, a pure white blade slid from its sheath.

At the same time, the internal energy coiled in his dantian rose like a cloud, covering his acupoints and spreading in billowing waves.

Tzzzzzz!

The distinctive purple qi of the Zaha Divine Technique blossomed across Cheongpung’s entire body. His eyes, filled with the colors of sunset, fixed on Jongni Chu.

“You’ll regret this.”

“Then…”

Jongni Chu rested his lowered sword against his shoulder.

“Let’s see what you can do.”

Whoosh!

Cheongpung jerked his head back. Jongni Chu’s sword passed within a paper’s width of the bridge of his nose. Instead of Sword Energy, the blade was thickly coated in reddish rust.

Fast!

Cheongpung had mastered a supreme eye technique under his grandfather’s guidance, but Jongni Chu’s movements surpassed even that.

A warning bell rang in his head as a wave of sword strikes followed.

Whoosh! Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!

The blade slashing toward his chest changed course in midair.

A thrust became a slash, then the slash gave way to an unexpected palm hurtling toward his shoulder.

Boom!

“Urgh!”

The palm struck Cheongpung’s shoulder and sent him flying more than ten zhang.²

He spun through the air like a top. The instant his feet touched the ground—

Boom!

The bluestone paving the dueling platform exploded into powder.

Cheongpung surged toward Jongni Chu even faster than he had been thrown back.

His sword streamed purple Sword Energy as it danced with effortless grace, flowers blooming in its wake.

Ssshhh!

The Thirty-Six Plum Blossom Swords, executed with eight-tenths mastery, scattered around Jongni Chu from every direction.

Surrounded by purple Sword Energy, Jongni Chu suddenly curled his lips into a smile. It was wholly out of place amid such mortal peril.

“This is more than I expected.”

Before he had even finished speaking, the sword in his hand moved.

A blinding flash and deafening roar erupted, so intense that the spectators could not keep their eyes open.

Boom! Krrrraaaash!

Sword Energy exploded, spraying shattered fragments through the air.

The thick cloud of dust billowed upward, then split apart to reveal a lone figure.

Cheongpung’s eyes widened as he watched Jongni Chu cover his mouth and cough softly.

This man…

This time, he had seen it clearly.

He had seen Jongni Chu deflect every last strand of Sword Energy.

The dozens of Sword Energy attacks capable of piercing steel had been countered by none other than his rusted sword.

Not a trace of Sword Energy coated the blade, yet it had swept every attack aside, redirecting them as naturally and effortlessly as flowing water.

How is that possible?

Along with his astonishment, Cheongpung was seized by a strange emotion he had never felt before.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears, and the hand gripping his sword hilt would not strike.

A bead of sweat gathered on his forehead, rolled down the bridge of his nose, and fell.

“Are you afraid?”

Jongni Chu strolled toward him at a leisurely pace. His deep, cold gaze made Cheongpung’s heart sink.

Then Cheongpung realized that the word Jongni Chu had just spoken was the name of this strange emotion.

“…Afraid?”

It was an emotion he had never experienced before.

Fear was a foreign feeling he had only ever heard of from his grandfather. Now it constricted both his body and mind.

Pung. Do you know fear?

Fear? What’s that?

Something that hides deep in everyone’s heart. Not knowing fear is your greatest weakness.

Sword Saint Mae Jonghak had deeply loved the grandson who shared none of his blood. His gaze had always been warm, and he had cared for Cheongpung day and night.

Just as beautiful flowers bloomed from good soil, Cheongpung had grown into a lovable child.

This old man is at fault. I shouldn’t have done that…

Having grown up surrounded by boundless love, he had learned only how to love.

On the mountain peak where grandfather and grandson lived happily together, there was none of the arrogance, greed, jealousy, or anger that overflowed in the outside world. The child had grown without ever learning how terrifying human malice could be—or what it meant to feel fear.

If that day ever comes, do not let fear devour you. That is all I can tell you.

His grandfather had said those words the day before Cheongpung secretly left Lotus Peak.

Perhaps he had known this would happen.

But faced with a master unlike any he had ever encountered, Cheongpung found himself backing away without even realizing it.

Grandpa, what do I do?

Step.

Whenever Jongni Chu advanced a step, Cheongpung retreated.

Another step.

Then another.

The distance between them remained fixed at five zhang² as Jongni Chu raised his sword.

“This could go on forever. I expected more from the Sword Saint’s Disciple. Is this all you amount to?”

“I-I…”

“You do know what it means to lose in the Murim, don’t you?”

Ssshhh.

A ghostlike movement.

Paralyzed by fear, Cheongpung could not react. In a world slowed to a crawl, Jongni Chu alone seemed to move unhindered.

One step erased the distance between them, and his sword glided forward.

Just as the rusted blade was about to pierce Cheongpung’s throat—

Swoooosh! Boom!

A terrifying sound split the air, followed by a boom loud enough to leave his ears ringing.

Jongni Chu twisted his sword at the last instant and blocked the attack. At the sight of the translucent spearhead, he grinned.

“As expected, you’ve got a good friend.”

“He’s not a friend. He’s my Benefactor. But…”

Jin Taekyung spat out a wad of phlegm and continued,

“What the fuck are you?”