Chapter 315 |
315. Guests (3)
Namgung Jong, who had been sleeping peacefully as if dead.
As I checked his pulse and applied simple emergency treatment, it did not take long before he regained consciousness.
Of course, the internal injury itself remained, so he immediately entered energy circulation and breathing.
“Useless son…… you went ahead first.”
“You seemed to enjoy that quite a bit.”
Namgung Dowi, who had been gazing at Namgung Jong with sunken eyes, lifted the corner of his lips in a faint smirk.
“My, my. I guess doing it three times makes it noticeable. But half of it was sincere.”
“He merely overexerted himself, that’s all. The internal injury isn’t that serious. He’ll finish his energy circulation and get up soon.”
“Ah, that is a shame indeed.”
If it were anyone else, maybe not—but neither I nor Namgung Dowi were the type to hesitate when it came to revealing our martial arts.
If Namgung Jong had somehow been able to watch this, he might have gained something.
“Hmm. Then we shall wait until he finishes his energy circulation.”
“Well, this is unexpected. White Moon Sword Lord, I thought you didn’t care what my son might gain—but also wouldn’t go as far as to wait just so he could gain something.”
“What exactly do you take me for?”
“A sword demon who became orthodox after meeting a good woman.”
It wasn’t wrong, so I couldn’t deny it.
For a moment, the Sword King’s insight left me speechless, but I soon shook my head and continued.
“What matters is that I became an orthodox martial artist in the end.”
“Indeed. In fact, the Black Lotus Sect Master occasionally laments that the unorthodox faction lost a great star.”
“Was the relationship between the Namgung Clan and the Black Lotus Sect that good?”
“Didn’t we join hands once to subjugate the Green Forest bandits? We’ve maintained our connection since then. He wields martial arts for ambition, nothing more—but as the leader of a group, he is exceptional.”
“Yes, well. He is human, after all. Which is why he created the Black Lotus Sect too, I suppose.”
Thinking back, the atmosphere after their duel in the Black Lotus Sect had indeed been rather friendly.
They must have grown closer through later cooperative work.
After all, the higher one’s realm, the harder it becomes to simply wield martial arts freely.
Because they dislike exposing their techniques to others, because it feels like an adult intruding on children at play, because it seems like showing off too much strength, and so on.
That the higher the realm, the more one focuses on meditative Heartscape training rather than direct physical movement is not purely a matter of efficiency.
It is also because the number of people who can face them dwindles.
But what of the Namgung Clan?
They don’t care whether their martial arts are revealed or not.
They even openly display them, saying, “Steal it if you can.”
A family of sword maniacs whose only interest is reaching a higher realm and perfecting their sword.
In a sense, they are the purest martial artists. For those tormented by politics or resource distribution as their realm rises, the Namgung Clan must feel like a breath of fresh air.
For someone like the Black Lotus Sect Master, who is only formally bound to the Black Lotus Sect but constantly deals with stubborn absolute masters, the Namgung Clan must be even more welcome.
With all these conditions aligned, despite being unusual people, they had strangely good affinity.
Though I never expected him to become that close with the Black Lotus Sect Master.
I briefly contemplated the “Namgung Clan Puppy” theory in my head when Namgung Jong finally finished his energy circulation and opened his eyes.
His internal injuries had been treated, so while he still looked exhausted, his eyes sparkled with motivation.
“Shall we begin now, Senior Sword King?”
“Thank you. However, I have something in mind—would you hear me out?”
“What is it?”
“It’s been a while since we saw each other, but haven’t we sparred frequently regardless?”
“That’s true.”
“Then instead of a back-and-forth filled with countless tactical exchanges, how about we simply exchange our single strongest technique?”
“I do not mind, but….”
“As much as I wish to enjoy the spar itself, White Moon Sword Lord, you must have many duties piled up now that you’ve just returned.”
“That is true.”
I was, after all, a son-in-law-in-residence. And since the wedding had not yet been held, I was more like a candidate son-in-law, so my official duties were minimal.
But I had quite a few things I had set into motion.
The matter with the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace would be explained well by Tang Sowol and Meng Yubaek.
I had to inspect the estate that would become the Seo Mun family residence and set up the formation that would gather cold energy for Seol Lihyang in the North Sea Ice Palace, distribute the fortuitous encounters I’d collected, and assist Tang Sowol’s research into creating Fengyuhuan (planned) using the poison of the Seven-Flame Five Poisons.
Truly, the list of tasks was endless.
“More than anything, if I spar with you, I might get too excited and destroy everything around us. If we were in the Namgung Clan estate, that would be fine, but…”
“Strictly speaking, I too am living under my father-in-law’s roof, so I agree.”
One of the reasons absolute masters cannot easily fight is precisely this.
Even a light spar creates tremendous collateral damage.
The Murim Alliance or the Black Lotus Sect were enormous federations of many clans and sects.
Naturally, they each had at least one or two large and sturdy training grounds capable of enduring Flowering Stage clashes.
But the Sichuan Tang Clan was not quite on that level.
As one of the Five Supreme Clans, they possessed a manor the size of a small village, and their training grounds were excellent in size and material—but not built to withstand the collision of concentrated qi force.
I was certain that if we got even slightly excited, a few pillars or walls would collapse.
Due to the Tang Clan’s specialization in hidden weapons and poison arts, they had built elongated training grounds suitable for that style, but typical training grounds were a bit lacking.
Still, I somehow felt like I was at a disadvantage.
The Sword King had seen my full strength multiple times, but I had only rarely experienced his full strength.
“What you say has merit.”
When I was still a Sub-Perfection master, he had held back to match our difference in realm. Even after I reached the Flowering Stage, he was still several steps above me, so he had never used everything.
After I mastered the White Sword in my battle with the Sword Demon, he occasionally pushed me to use my full strength, but compared to the moments I had shown everything before Namgung Dowi, the number was far too small.
Of course, I wasn’t truly asking him to show more—I simply expressed mild regret half in jest.
“But with the current you, one exchange should be enough. Your eyes seem to have improved since we last met.”
“...How did you know?”
“One of our ancestors had something similar, so I suspected it. More importantly, even if paper is still lacking, your skill is sufficient to call yourself the sword of Namgung. No matter how capable you are, seeing through the Namgung sword so easily is unusual.”
“Heoh. Would you perhaps tell me more about these eyes?”
“I don’t know the details. The ancestor called it the Heavenly Vision. I only know that he could see the flow of internal energy—and even another person’s willpower—as if with his eyes.”
“Oh.”
So training these eyes might eventually allow me to see willpower as well.
Though for Flowering Stage opponents, where internal energy and willpower become one, I wasn’t sure how meaningful the distinction was.
“When we return to the Namgung estate, I’ll look for relevant texts and send them to you.”
“Thank you. There is just one thing I’m curious about…”
“What is it?”
“Did that ancestor who awakened the Heavenly Vision ever hunt a Flowering Stage spiritual beast?”
“A Flowering Stage spiritual beast? They’re rare nowadays, but back then it was common for martial artists to hunt troublemaking beasts. It’s possible. As I said, I don’t know enough—I’ll have to check separately. But why bring up spiritual beasts all of a sudden?”
“In truth, I heard that this vision originates from a method of perceiving internal energy and willpower unique to spiritual beasts, not martial arts.”
“Hooh. I see. I’ll look into that as well. …Now focus.”
With those words, Namgung Dowi drew his sword and slowly raised it.
It was fundamentally similar to Namgung Jong’s Changgung-Boundless Sword Technique stance.
Feet spread shoulder-width apart, neck and waist straight, arms bent at an appropriate angle.
The only difference was that instead of a middle stance with the sword tip pointed at the opponent, he raised it into an upper stance above his head.
A simple yet flawless stance with no openings.
Even after reaching Sword-Unity and the Flowering Stage, achieving a posture with not a single flaw was not easy, and I was silently impressed when—
Something began to happen.
Wooong—
Around the raised sword, immense internal energy and willpower began gathering.
The sword.
Countless swords of different forms—and the countless trajectories they could take—rose and intertwined in chaotic layers.
But what formed after all those swords wove together was nothing but a vast, open sky—an intent solely to cut.
It looked like a far more skilled manifestation of the true meaning of the Changgung-Boundless Sword Technique that Namgung Jong had shown earlier, and admiration escaped me.
But Namgung Dowi’s sword did not end there.
A sky he forged with his sword—he placed his sword atop that sky.
It was not simply an upper stance raised for convenience of cutting.
It was an arrogant stance declaring he would suppress every sword momentum he had built throughout his entire life with a single strike.
The Namgung Clan’s founder was said to be of the collateral line of the previous imperial dynasty—a descendant of a vassal king.
He could no longer claim imperial blood, nor rule over a proper province, nor govern the people within.
All that remained to the current Namgung Dowi were his martial title as the Sword King, the sword-heaven accumulated with the Namgung Clan’s history, and a single sword capable of suppressing all of that.
For a sword practitioner, that was more than enough.
The Sovereign Sword.
At this moment, the Sword King truly stood as a sovereign atop the sky forged by his blade.
Then I, too, could not help but draw forth something equivalent.
My sword hung naturally downward at a diagonal. Concentrated qi turned the black blade white, and atop it settled the enlightenment I had accumulated over decades within the Demon Bell.
The sword that resided in the deepest part of my Heartscape.
A sword untouched by any malice, dispersing all evil—formless.
A sword that had lost its original shape through long despair yet still sought to remain a sword—formless.
A shapeless enlightenment obtained from something without physical form.
When the Formless Sword layered over the White Sword, immense willpower concentrated so intensely that the surrounding scenery began to warp.
Seeing this, Namgung Dowi’s eyes curved with delight.
“I once thought the Namgung Clan and you had similar qualities—but now I see you are complete opposites.”
“So it seems.”
A single sword forged from all the swords of the world.
A sword that never existed anywhere, that could not exist, created by gathering what was never meant to be.
After a brief silence, the two opposing swords swung simultaneously.
The sky collapsing upon itself to cut down only me—such was the oppressive force.
And a sword that sought to cut what should not be cut met it head-on.
–!!
The explosion of qi felt heavy enough to tear my arm apart, and my qi and blood surged as if about to ignite.
Overheated willpower and willpower carved deeply into one another as my vision flashed white for an instant. And then—
Kwaaaang!
When I came to my senses, a deafening roar rang in my ears, and I felt the sensation of cutting through something at my fingertips.
“Haa… huff…”
I had swung only once, yet my breath had risen to my chin.
As I barely steadied myself, a breeze blew from afar and cooled my overheated body.
As the dust was blown away, the sight revealed was—
“What the…”
Everything except the space behind me was utterly destroyed—the training ground had collapsed.
It looked dug out to the depth of a child’s waist. How was this possible? They would have checked the ground before constructing it.
The fact that it still collapsed meant tremendous pressure had crushed it.
I was still shivering from the Sovereign Sword’s overwhelming power when the Sword King, who still sounded composed unlike me who looked about to fall over, let out a deep sigh.
“Well now. I lost.”
“…What?”
I lifted my head in disbelief.
Namgung Dowi sheathed his sword with a wry smile. Along his neck was a shallow but long sword mark bleeding steadily.
After lightly stopping the bleeding with a pressure point, Namgung Dowi touched the wound and said,
“If this had been a life-or-death duel, and if I hadn’t changed my angle, your sword would not only have cut through mine but also taken my head in one stroke.”
“If I had been a bit more exhausted, the Sword King’s sword would have crushed me flat instead.”
“You still haven’t fully cleared the lingering poison of fatigue. Hypotheticals are meaningless. Judge only by this duel.”
“Uh……”
Seeing that I still struggled to accept it, Namgung Dowi smirked.
“It seems I’ll have to step down from the Sword King’s seat soon.”
I had surpassed the Sword King.
Only now did the reality sink in.
***
“Ah, that reminds me—soon, your guests will be arriving.”
“…Guests?”
At the dinner table.
Tang Jincheon, who had been pretending to explain the collapsed training ground but was actually bragging and annoying me, abruptly changed the subject.
I wanted to brag a bit more, but I could do that tomorrow—so I followed along.
“I have guests coming to see me?”
“Oh, many people come. It’s just that very few can be considered your guests.”
“Again you make me sound like someone with a personality problem. Sigh. Even the future greatest under heaven cannot escape slander, it seems.”
“You— you insufferable brat…! That’s not what I meant! You already know about this matter.”
As I tilted my head, unsure, Tang Jincheon sighed again.
“The strategist of the Murim Alliance, the abbot of Shaolin, and the previous abbot as well.”
“Ah.”
It seemed they were ready to examine the Demon Bell once more.