Chapter 493

Opportunity isn’t given to everyone equally.

By that measure, Perfected Being Hyeongong had been given more opportunities than most. At just ten years old, he had become a direct Disciple of the Wudang Sect Leader.

His path had been smooth from the start.

Born with martial talent among the best of his generation and an upright nature to match, Hyeongong had always received wholehearted support. Which meant he had never wanted for anything in his life.

And yet…

I want it.

Perfected Being Hyeongong’s eyes trembled faintly. It was a material desire he had not felt in a very long time.

I’ve never felt this way before.

Gold, wealth, fame, glory—he had no need for any of it. He wore each Daoist robe he received until it fell apart and lived on simple, modest meals.

Elixirs and martial arts manuals were no different. Since reaching the Supreme Peak realm, he had devoted himself to cultivating his mind. Whenever his Senior Brother, the Sect Leader, offered him an elixir, Hyeongong passed it on to his promising grand-disciples. As for manuals, the Wudang techniques he had already mastered were more than enough.

But this. This was different.

“Hoo… Infinite Life Buddha.¹ Infinite Life Buddha.”

Hyeongong ran a rough hand down his beard and recited the invocation. Yet despite his efforts to master himself, his gaze kept returning to the imugi’s² corpse.

They say those bones are incredibly hard.

Through the split scales and gaping wound, he could see enormous bones giving off a faint glow. Perhaps because they had belonged to a five-hundred-year-old imugi, the bones had a luster unlike anything else. He had heard they were so hard that even ordinary Sword Energy could not cut through them.

If I made a sword from those bones, it would be incredible… No. What am I thinking? Get a grip, Hyeongong!

He squeezed his eyes shut. He had just watched the two Jin brothers leave Zhuge Feng in tatters, which made the temptation all the more troubling.

At least Zhuge Feng had been there when the battle took place. Hyeongong had been hundreds of li³ away, at the Donghu Stronghold headquarters. He had no grounds to demand anything, nor the nerve to set aside his shame and ask.

Infinite Life Buddha, Infinite Life Buddha. A Daoist, led astray by a desire like this? Get a hold of yourself, Hyeongong.

While he was struggling in silence, someone spoke.

“Perfected Being. Are you busy?”

“Hm?”

Hyeongong’s eyes flew open. A familiar young man was looking at him with a knowing gaze.

Jin Taekyung.

Together with the Sword Saint’s Disciple, Cheongpung—the Huashan Divine Dragon—this young man was at the center of the storm sweeping through Murim. The gossips were already saying that beneath the Ten Kings stood the Two Dragons.

An extraordinary young man. Almost unbelievably so.

But Hyeongong had something more pressing on his mind than his opinion of Jin Taekyung.

Could it be?

The old Daoist looked at him, his heart quickening with hope.

“What is it, Young Friend Jin?”

Taekyung smiled gently. “If you’re not busy, I was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk? About what?”

“We have to deal with the corpse now, and there’s more of it than we expected.”

“Th-That’s why?”

“You came all the way here in person. Of course you should have something to take home.”

“Oh!”

Hyeongong’s eyes immediately lit up. Jin Taekyung smiled and continued.

“Our Jin Family of Taiyuan has always held the Daoists of Wudang in the highest regard. As fellow martial artists of Murim, we’d be delighted to share a little of what we’ve gained.”

“I-Is that true?”

“Of course. I swear on Hyuk Mujin’s balls. My eldest brother is fully in favor of it too.”

“Good heavens! Infinite Life Buddha!”

Taekyung had gently scratched the itch Hyeongong had been too ashamed to mention. The old Daoist was beside himself with joy.

Hyeongong did not know who Hyuk Mujin was or why Jin Taekyung was swearing on the man’s balls. All that mattered was that he was being given a share.

How can anyone be this kind?

Taekyung was nothing like the hypocrites with their fine words. He was a ray of light shining into a cold Murim crawling with shameless people.

Hyeongong could practically see a halo over Jin Taekyung’s head.

“Thank you! May the Primordial Heavenly Venerable⁴ protect you and the Jin Family of Taiyuan, young friend! Infinite Life Buddha!”

“Amen.”

Something about that was strange, but Hyeongong didn’t care. He was still beaming when Taekyung continued in his gentle voice.

“There is one small problem, though.”

“Hm? What problem?”

“The corpse is so large that I can’t deal with it alone. And we can’t exactly move it whole.”

“Quite right. Quite right.”

From head to tail, its vast body stretched over a hundred jang.⁵ It was questionable whether it could even be moved in one piece. And since doing so would require a great deal of manpower, keeping the matter secret would become even more impossible.

“So I’d like to ask you a small favor, Perfected Being.”

Hyeongong faltered. Suspicion flickered in his eyes.

“Wait. Young Friend Jin. This favor of yours wouldn’t happen to mean…”

“Yes. We need you to lend us a hand. At this rate, it’ll take days.”

So that’s it! That’s why he was being so generous!

Hyeongong glared at Jin Taekyung with an expression of betrayal.

“You want me to use Wudang’s sword arts to take that imugi’s corpse apart?”

“Think of it as work.”

“Work? You expect me to think of it as work? I did not train in martial arts for this!”

Reaching the Supreme Peak realm meant devoting most of one’s life—no, one’s entire life—to martial arts.

Hyeongong was no exception. How many years had he spent with a sword as his companion, his beloved? He had even honed his martial arts through secluded meditation, facing a wall in pitch darkness. To him, Taekyung’s request was an insult.

The nerve of him.

His expression hardened.

“Infinite Life Buddha. Young friend, you have insulted not only me but the sword arts of the great Wudang Sect.”

“Insulted you? I would never. I’m only asking you to lend a hand.”

“But I cannot use my sword for something as trivial as—”

Just as Hyeongong’s voice began to rise, Taekyung tossed out a remark.

“Now that I look at it, your sword’s pretty worn.”

“What?”

“Seems about time you replaced it. What do you think?”

“…!”

Hyeongong’s pupils quivered. Before he knew it, he was looking down at the old Pine-Pattern Ancient Sword at his waist.

It certainly is worn… No! What am I thinking?

He had carried that sword since he was ten. It was a precious gift from his late master.

Hyeongong hurriedly shook his head to clear it, then opened his eyes wide.

“It is not worn!”

“It is. Look at the hilt. It’s practically falling apart.”

“It does seem a little… No! You’re mistaken!”

“Fine, forget the hilt. The scabbard’s covered in cracks too. Has it been through a drought?”

“Ah! When did those appear…?”

“This is worse than I thought. Could you draw the sword?”

“Why should I?”

Shing!

Only after shouting did Hyeongong realize he had drawn it. He stared in horror.

When did I do that?

The devil’s whisper went on regardless.

“The blade doesn’t look too good either.”

“My late master gave me this sword!”

Taekyung answered calmly. “My parents gave me this body, but it’s worn down with use. If I could’ve replaced it, I would have done it ages ago.”

“Well, this old Daoist’s joints have been aching lately too. I’ve been yearning for Bone Transformation⁶… What are you trying to pull?”

“I’m just telling you the cold reality. Oh, the edge is still sharp, at least.”

Get a grip. Get a grip, Hyeongong.

He steadied his breathing and answered with pride. “Of course it is. The blade was forged with four nyang⁷ of Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron mixed into it.”

“Good heavens. Four nyang of that precious Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron?”

“Do you see now? This sword may look worn, but it is every bit a treasured sword.”

“Ah. Is that right?”

“Of course! I already own a sword anyone would covet. Why would I need another—”

Clang!

“Oh, sorry. My hand slipped and I dropped my spear. Please, go on.”

Hyeongong barely noticed Taekyung’s sheepish smile. His eyes were fixed on the faintly glowing spear, his eyelids trembling.

“Y-Young Friend Jin. Is that, by any chance…”

“Nothing special. It’s made of Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron too, but it’s nothing compared to your sword.”

It certainly didn’t look that way.

Hyeongong swallowed and asked cautiously, “How many nyang?”

“Solid. The whole thing, from the blade to the shaft.”

“This is fucking insane. Infinite Life Buddha.”

“Sorry? What was that?”

“Ah, nothing. Nothing at all.”

A devil. This was the devil’s whisper.

Yet Hyeongong’s eyes remained fixed on Jin Taekyung’s spear, White Flame, as he recited the invocation as if possessed.

“Light as a feather, incredibly hard, and sharp besides. But…”

Then that soft, tempting voice reached his ears again.

“I think I’d like a weapon made from an imugi’s bones.”

“Infinite Life Buddha. I would not.”

“Think about it carefully. Not just any weapon, but one containing all the qi of a sacred imugi that lived for no less than five hundred years.”

It would be incredible. I want one so badly.

Hyeongong barely swallowed the words rising to his lips and shook his head frantically.

“Impossible! I could never abandon the sword my master gave me—”

“Who said anything about abandoning it? You can have both.”

“Fuck, I could do that! Ah, Primordial Heavenly Venerable!”

“Sorry?”

“Stop! That’s enough! Infinite Life Buddhaa!”

“If you help us, we’ll give you a share generous enough that Wudang won’t feel slighted. Do you think I’d settle this with a single sword?”

“I already have a sword made with Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron!”

“Yes. And an imugi’s bones.”

“How could I use another sword when I have the one my master gave me?”

“Yes. The more, the better.”

“I did not learn martial arts for this sort of thing!”

As Hyeongong clung to his last shred of pride and lamented, Jin Taekyung suddenly shouted toward somewhere behind the corpse.

“Hey, Cheongpung! How’s it going?”

A cheerful face popped out from behind the enormous corpse. Cheongpung had been promised a considerable share for fighting alongside them.

“Yes, Benefactor! I’m working on the waist!”

“Really? That part’s especially thick. Giving you trouble?”

“No! The Martial Extremity Grand Unity Sword cuts through it just fine!”

“Good. I’ll be there soon. Keep at it.”

“Yes, Benefactor!”

Taekyung gave the diligent worker a pleased smile, then turned back to Hyeongong.

“Ah, sorry, Perfected Being. I took my eyes off the work for a moment.”

“……”

“But what were we talking about? I’ve been forgetting things a lot lately.”

Hyeongong looked from Cheongpung, hard at work, to Taekyung and back again.

Half a shichen⁸ later…

Slash!

The Taiji Wisdom Sword, Wudang’s finest sword technique, was separating the imugi’s scales from its bones.

“Murim has gone completely mad.”

That was Mungyeong’s brief assessment as he watched the entire situation unfold.