Chapter 223: The Grace of a Master (2)

When one reached the realm of an absolute master, represented by the Extreme Demon Realm or the Transformation Realm, it became possible to utilize a special field known as Authority.

The functions of Authority were diverse, but the most representative was the transcendent reaction speed.

The moment something entered that Authority, the absolute master would react even on an unconscious level, no matter how sudden the attack might be.

And when one went beyond even that level…

“Hoho, look at this insolent brat.”

…they would display a transcendence that exceeded even unconscious reaction.

Kagagagang!

Before I knew it, the sword wielded by my master had effortlessly deflected the strike I had launched.

‘What a monster.’

More than anything, the ability to redirect Qi Projection skyward to avoid collateral damage was not something just anyone could do.

Master, who had deflected my strike, let out a small snort.

“Snort! It’s not killing intent… is it resentment? It seems my disciple holds some sort of grudge against me?”

Master sharply pierced through to the truth.

As expected of a sword master, could he read even the slightest emotion from a single strike?

But I wasn’t one to back down so easily either.

“How could I harbor resentment after meeting you for such a short time?”

“Chuh, true enough.”

“I was simply curious to know just how far the skills of my master had reached.”

“Hahaha, I see. So? Has your curiosity been satisfied?”

I nodded.

“Master has clearly reached the Transcendent Demon Realm.”

Unless one had a body like Jin Gun-ak, any master of the Extreme Demon Realm would have merely dodged my strike at best, even if they reacted.

To react so precisely and deflect it this perfectly was impossible unless one’s mind entered an ultra-high-speed state.

Before I knew it, master took a swig from the liquor bottle and laughed in satisfaction.

“That’s right! No matter where I go in the Central Plains, I’ll never lose when it comes to swordsmanship.”

Swordsmanship.

For some reason, I couldn’t help but feel that this didn’t refer to just the literal act of wielding a Saber, but to the very essence of swordsmanship itself.

Master raised his sword once again.

“Come at me with all your might. I’ll match your level accordingly.”

“…You should refrain from showing off too much in front of your disciple.”

With my surprise attack having failed, all that remained was a head-on clash of power.

Hwaruk!

The Heavenly Profound Divine Art of the Nine Heavens Mystic Maiden began to operate in full, and black flames started to gather on my sword.

Unlike Cheon Yura’s crimson-black flames, these were pure black flames.

“Good. As a descendant, it’s a blessing beyond compare to witness the restoration of the lost origin.”

As master’s eyes quivered with emotion, I dashed toward him without hesitation.

In a duel between swordsmen, there was no need for grand, flashy techniques.

Rather, throwing such techniques would only admit that I was inferior to my opponent.

I decided to thoroughly compress the aura of my sword and challenge him with pure swordsmanship.

“I told you to come at me with full strength, yet here you are, clinging to pointless stubbornness.”

The moment those words left his mouth, master’s sword moved.

Kagagagang!

I had looked forward to seeing just how fierce the sword of a master who had reached the Transcendent Demon Realm would be.

Surprisingly, master’s sword wasn’t transcendentally fast, nor was it so complex that I couldn’t handle it.

‘He’s adjusting to my level!’

Gritting my teeth, I continued to swing my sword like a madman.

In the blink of an eye, over a hundred moves were exchanged.

However.

As time went on.

As we exchanged more and more moves.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was sinking deeper into a quagmire.

‘My sword… is being devoured?!’

Why?

How could the fully restored forms of the Ten Heavenly Record Demonic Sword be losing to incomplete sword forms with missing crucial elements?

Noticing my flustered state, master smirked and spoke.

“As I thought, it seems my disciple hasn’t had much experience cutting down people compared to the karma you’ve accumulated.”

“…Kuh!”

He was right.

I had cut down far more monsters than I had humans.

“By now, you must be wondering this: ‘I’m not losing in speed or power, and yet, why am I being overwhelmed by incomplete sword forms?’”

He was right again.

After exchanging over a hundred moves, I realized that master had been fighting with just six techniques combined together.

I immediately recognized them since all of those forms originated from the Ten Heavenly Record Demonic Sword.

And yet, despite seeing the openings, I couldn’t break through his defense no matter what.

Master spoke.

“That’s because my sword has been completed in a different direction. What you see as an opening… strictly speaking, isn’t one.”

“A different… direction?”

“Well, keep watching and you’ll understand.”

Our duel continued for another fifty moves.

And finally, I noticed something.

‘Master’s sword… does not burn.’

A characteristic of the inner energy wielded by those who had mastered the Heavenly Demonic Divine Art or the Heavenly Profound Divine Art.

The burning sword qi.

But master’s sword showed no such passionate momentum.

In fact…

‘It’s cold!’

It clearly wasn’t an ice-based art, and yet, an inexplicable chill emanated from the qi of master’s sword.

There was only one reason.

‘The Sword of Opposition!’

A sword that, in the truest sense, denied everything down to its very root.

Master’s sword unmistakably carried such karma.

Kaang!

One hundred and seventy moves since the duel began.

In the end, my sword slipped from my hand.

I blankly stared at the fallen sword.

“How do you feel?”

“……”

Not just in terms of inner energy, but even in swordsmanship itself, I could feel the Opposition.

How could something like this be possible?

Suddenly, a question arose in my mind.

“The Sword of Opposition… the Sword of Harmony. Which one is the truth?”

Master answered.

“Both are.”

“Both of them?”

“That’s right. The ancestor of the family who created this sword art modified the half-learned sword techniques he inherited from his master to create the Ten Heavenly Record Demonic Sword.”

Half… Was that the reason it could never defeat the Heaven-Slaying Demonic Sword?

“However, for some reason, the two of them eventually fell out. The sword created by our ancestor to kill his master is precisely the one I’m displaying now.”

“……!”

“Of course, I didn’t restore it on my own. I received a lot of help from the Society. That’s why I have to negotiate with the Grand Heavenly Lord if I want to withdraw.”

Chchchchch!

Leaving me standing there, Master suddenly began to perform a sword dance.

It looked similar to the ten forms of the Ten Heavenly Record Demonic Sword I had demonstrated earlier, yet it was entirely different.

A sword created specifically to confront the Heaven-Slaying Demonic Sword!

From every flow and movement, I could sense an indescribable sense of something alien and unsettling.

As he danced, Master spoke.

“My disciple.”

“Yes, Master.”

“One day, you will find yourself having to fight your girlfriend.”

“……!!”

Master’s statement, which sounded more like a declaration than a guess, made me clench my fists unconsciously.

Seeing my reaction, Master chuckled and stopped his sword dance.

“Well, don’t take it too seriously. It could just be a typical marital spat. What kind of man would go around getting beaten by his wife?”

Though Master said that as if to ease my heart, I couldn’t take it so lightly.

‘The fate of the Heavenly Demon…’

That damned concept of destiny that even the Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult, to some extent, blindly believed in.

That word, which I had once brushed aside without much thought, began to rise again in my chest like a coiling snake.

Master picked up the fallen sword and placed it back into my hand.

“Learn this sword. Someday, it will surely prove useful. Very useful.”

“Master…”

“You’ll have to face the man who is to become your father-in-law one day as well, won’t you? You’ll need this sword to increase your chances, even if just a little.”

“Master…!”

He wasn’t wrong.

Even though the Cult Leader had surpassed the Supreme Demon Realm and was on the verge of transcending mortality…

There would still come a day when I had to settle things with him.

“It’s a short time, but I’ll teach you all the essential formulas and techniques you need. I trust you’ll keep up.”

“Yes, Master!”

For the first time, I felt immense determination toward Master’s teaching.

I decided to set aside, for now, Master’s words about fighting Cheon Yura.

* * *

And so.

After the disciple and master had concluded their brief exchange of martial knowledge.

Even after the exhausted disciple had gone to rest, Old Han remained seated alone at the training ground.

Without turning around, he spoke.

“You’ve come.”

“…….”

Schrrrk!

Without warning, a silver-haired young man who looked almost like a boy appeared behind Old Han.

Old Han slowly turned his gaze.

“I thought you’d never move from that place. Yet you came to me first—how surprising.”

The silver-haired young man, the Grand Heavenly Lord, responded.

“Others may not matter, but you’re a different case.”

Old Han deserved that recognition.

Among the Ten Heavenly Lords, he was the only one who had even a slight chance of biting at the Heavenly Demon himself.

Old Han shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, it is what it is. I’ve found my successor, so as we originally agreed, I will withdraw from the Society. Considering how well you’ve used me, I’d say you have no objections.”

“No. That won’t do.”

A strange light flickered in the Grand Heavenly Lord’s eyes.

“You’re far from repaying the debt of restoring the Six-Ringed Sword. Our grand plan had to be delayed by thirty years for that.”

Old Han understood exactly what the Grand Heavenly Lord was getting at.

“…What do you want from me?”

“Haha, for a drunkard who knows nothing but alcohol, you sure have sharp intuition when it comes to these things.”

“If you want something, just say it. I don’t like leaving debts unpaid.”

The Grand Heavenly Lord nodded silently in response.

“Right. I suppose we do need to balance things out, considering your absence.”

Then, the Grand Heavenly Lord made an outrageous demand.

“Bring me the head of either the Sword Demon or the Saber Demon. Then I’ll let you go without another word.”

“……!”

Old Han’s expression twisted ever so slightly.

* * *

“What a joke the Clan Head is playing.”

Baek Munjeol, one of the Elders of the Namcheon Baek Clan and a direct bloodline member, crumpled the letter bearing the Clan Head’s seal.

“So now you want to involve even the Demonic Factions and Evil Sects?”

The reason Baek Munjeol was trying to host the Murim Tournament in Namchang this time was simple.

“To show the world that my older cousin is unfit to succeed as the Clan Head.”

His cousin, Baek Munyak, the Serene Saber and current Young Clan Head, was weak.

Or rather, Baek Munjeol had made him weak.

“You sent your beloved niece off to the Demonic Cult, and now you’re scheming something again… I wonder what you’re up to this time.”

But it didn’t matter.

At this tournament, the Namcheon Baek Clan’s successor would change.

“With a tournament like this, the elites of the Demonic Factions and Evil Sects will gather in droves. The Six Demon Dragons, the Six Divine Dragons, the Four Divine Flags… What a grand affair.”

Baek Munjeol spoke, glancing toward a certain direction.

“What do you think? Can you, who are of their generation, defeat the most renowned rising stars of Murim?”

Though obscured by a curtain, the voice that returned was that of a clear and confident young man.

“Frankly, I’m not impressed by Murim’s so-called elites. I’ve already fought two of the Six Divine Dragons, and neither lasted more than ten moves.”

“Hahaha! As expected of Saryeong, the strongest among my candidates by pure martial skill.”

Baek Munjeol laughed in satisfaction.

“From now on, you are Baek Cheonho, my adopted son.”

From outside the curtain, the man responded playfully.

“For the sake of your ascension as Clan Head, I’ll give it my all, Father.”

Saryeong, one of the successors of the Heaven-Defying Society.

Originally, the ranks of Saryeong were determined by the concentration of their bloodline.

But despite his diluted blood, there was a monster who had claimed the fourth rank purely through martial strength.

“Can any so-called elite of Murim stop a supreme master? This tournament will be a stage set solely for me, Baek Munjeol. Kahaha!”

“…….”

After laughing for a while, Baek Munjeol reached out toward a box placed in front of him.

“Ah, right. I heard our insurance has arrived.”

When he opened the box, inside was a small, pure white porcelain jar, sealed tightly.

“We paid a hefty price to the Baek Clan’s trading company for this, so it had better work as promised.”

Etched onto the jar’s surface were the words:

Heaven-Destroying Poison

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