Return of the Dark Moon
Chapter 29. The Martial Path
Maryeong, the Udo-eosa—master of the Eighteen Arms of Wushu.
Our history was... quite complicated.
Before my regression, he was a comrade-in-arms I trusted with my back, a drinking buddy.
And also...
My wife's uncle.
Well, ex-wife.
We got divorced.
Ilgyeokmujeok, who had been firmly stepping on Maryeong's arm, let her long hair fall as she hopped and landed on the ground.
"Touch her one more time and I'll shatter your skull."
Maryeong simply smiled at her calm threat.
"Of course, you should. If any man other than me touches her, you do just that."
"Why does Hoeju keep a wreck like that as a friend?"
Listening to their idiotic conversation, I glanced over to where Jegalbi was.
Jegalbi was slowly getting up, clutching his neck.
Peerless masters don't die so easily.
They were beings who vied for the top spot even among the vermin of the martial world.
Jegalbi covered his mouth with his fan and gave a sickening smile.
The Haomun Lord had also gotten up at some point and joined him.
"Oh, Udo-eosa. You've arrived earlier than expected. To think that I, Strategist Jegal, could be wrong... On second thought, I hadn't anticipated that the Sword God would escape the formation so quickly. I'll ask again. How did you get out of the formation so fast?"
He was unusually talkative.
Those who train in formations are usually chatterboxes, but he was on another level, vying for first or second place.
In that case, this bastard is a formation-mouth.
I said to the still-chattering Jegalbi,
"If you're curious, that'll be five Silver Wonbo."
"Ah, is that so? Then here..."
I let out a dry laugh as I watched Jegalbi actually take money out of his pouch.
In truth, even one Silver Wonbo was a fortune.
That bastard was, of all things, a young master from a noble house.
Meaning he was filthy rich. And here I was, born a beggar.
The thought made irritation surge up from deep within me.
"Damned noble house bastards. Who the hell do you think you are, collecting the tribute meant for the state?"
That's how the noble houses are.
The Imperial Court lacks the influence to control the entire country, and the current houses are the ones who exploited that gap to act as regional powers.
The Haomun Lord tilted his head and said to me,
"As I recall, the Nine Great Sects, One Union also receive tribute."
"Shut up. Who asked you? Why are you running your mouth when no one asked? Cheonritong, you wag your tongue so freely, just like the Unorthodox Faction dog you are."
"I'll report this to the Sect Leader."
At the mention of the Sect Leader, I took a moment to breathe.
Just as Baek Cheon had said.
One... two... three.
"You son of a bitch. You'll report to the Sect Leader? And you call yourself a man? My late grandfather used to say..."
"Shut up. My head is ringing, so I need to rest a bit."
"If he says shut up, I guess I should shut up."
I finally drew the sword at my waist.
Ilgyeokmujeok had done a lot so far, so she could rest.
The two exhausted Remembrancers were opponents that a fully-prepared Maryeong and I could handle.
Why Remembrancers?
Because I decided to call them that.
Don't question it.
—Cheongyeong.
Jegalbi's distorted, jade-like voice.
Along with a mantra, several sheets of yellow talismans rose into the sky and burst into flames.
The casting of a spell.
I instinctively used the Huhoe Footwork, and a blue flame struck the spot where I'd just been.
Suddenly, the Haomun Lord, whose eyes met mine, charged in too fast for me to react.
At the same time, Maryeong, who had used the Formless Force to pull a spear from a great distance, counterattacked by thrusting it at the Haomun Lord.
It was Rannachal, a technique learned by all who master the spear.
Maryeong's spear clashed with the dozens of illusory images created by Cheonritong.
With that, a furious gale shot out from Jegalbi's fan, which had been creating a gentle breeze.
—Pungho.
A white tiger made of wind rushed forward, looking ready to tear off Maryeong's head.
I immediately sent a swarm of bees on the wind.
My Moonlight Solar Burst, unleashed alongside with the Star Moon Sword Auras, tore apart the white tiger's wide-open maw.
"Keoheok!"
Having forcefully drawn on my internal energy, I spat out a mouthful of blood.
It's fine.
This bought me a few breaths.
I'd pushed myself a little because, unexpectedly, Maryeong didn't seem to be in his right mind.
The seventeen weapons floating in the sky all possessed the principles of the Sword Control Art.
Cheonritong was stunned at the same time.
"Dammit, what the hell is wrong with his Upper dantian...!"
An ordinary person would struggle to control even a single sword at will, but Maryeong was currently handling seventeen weapons while trading blows with Cheonritong.
A sword and a saber drew out the Eight Principles of Yong, the foundation of calligraphy.
A basic technique like the Sangjae Sword Style, the character for 'eternity' contains all the necessary strokes for writing, making it an essential practice method for scholars.
Maryeong, who had been pushing back Cheonritong and Jegalbi, tilted his head like a wastrel.
"Hmm, it's not enough. Something's strange. Can you even perform your 'Martial Path' like this? You received power from the Invincible One, I see. With his Martial Path, it would be possible. But surely you know the price?"
"None of your business. Seoyugi, Master of Ten Thousand Weapons."
Maryeong, smiling faintly as they traded blows, retorted to Cheonritong's words.
"It's been a while since I've heard that. You really do remember everything, don't you?"
With that, all seventeen weapons surged toward Jegalbi.
I wiped the blood trickling from my mouth with my sleeve.
In any case, judging by their conversation, the Remembrancers' increase in martial prowess seemed to come at a price.
Jegalbi, who had deflected all the weapons by opening his fan, finally began to step forward.
He immediately joined Cheonritong in a pincer attack, pressuring Maryeong.
Maryeong's entire body was slashed by the fierce joint attack.
That bastard, he seems weaker than Beomcheon.
Then again, how strong can a pretty boy like him be?
I dragged my exhausted body and rushed at Jegalbi.
I should've learned the Cheondun Sword Art or something.
My damned laziness has come back to bite me.
Cheonritong's leg flew toward me as I charged.
I drove my sword into it instead.
Cheonritong frowned.
Something was definitely strange about them.
A normal peerless master would have killed me the moment I charged.
Could it be related to those disciples from the Peach Blossom Spring I saw before?
They were showing a great deal of instability.
I swayed and dodged Cheonritong's Grappling Hands, which tried to grab my neck, using the Drunken Eight Immortals Steps, and then barely blocked the incoming Orchid Shadow Flicker Palm by striking it away with the raw power of the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Art.
It was only possible because the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Art has the function of Pasahyeonjeong—expelling evil.
Something the Emei Sect, which is also of Buddhist origin, does not have.
In that opening, Jegalbi's fan slashed my leg, and the Haomun Lord's hand grazed my neck once more.
The gush of blood actually cleared my head.
"Where's Maryeong?"
I quickly looked back and saw the lecherous bastard had taken a step back and was observing the battlefield.
He seemed to be charging up an ultimate technique.
He expects me to hold them off alone?
That crazy son of a bitch.
I gritted my teeth and gripped my iron sword tightly.
They were exhausted too, anyway.
The fact that I could even keep up with their movements was proof of that.
"The martial prowess they gained from that 'Invincible One' bastard hasn't fully adapted to their bodies yet."
Though how they gained it is a mystery in itself.
I step on Jegalbi's fan as he rushes to split me apart with his strength (horizontal).
It feels like strolling on clouds, like Wudang's Je-unjong.
Instead of destroying the energy in Jegalbi's fan, I let it flow past.
This is the technique known as Grafting Pear Blossoms onto a Plum Trees, taken to its peak.
From now on, I'll hold on with all my might.
Using every bit of enlightenment I gained in my past life.
Come to think of it, what was the Haomun Lord's Martial Path?
Unlike Jegalbi, he was a master of the Hyeon'gyeong realm from the start.
A rare and powerful monster, even in the vast martial world.
That made me curious about Jegalbi's Martial Path as well.
A Martial Path is a martial art that contains one's life.
It is, after all, deeply connected to one's life story.
What could the life of Jegalbi, who died young, possibly unfold?
At the same time, a desolate, cold wind washed over me.
As I was using the Eighteen Palms of the Yellow Dragon to block the Haomun Lord's hidden weapon techniques, which were persistently aiming for my eyes, I quickly turned my head.
There was Maryeong, aiming his sword at Jegalbi and the Haomun Lord.
He was in the middle stance of the Sangjae Sword Style, known as the foundation of all swordsmanship.
"Ah, well. I appreciate you holding out for me. But I don't have much time either. I have a date with the girl next door."
At the same time, a single resonance echoed in my mind.
It was unfolding.
The ultimate technique that only peerless masters can use.
Right here, right now.
Whale-Slaughtering Horizontal Blade.
"The wind is desolate, the Yi River is cold. With the same solemn heart as Jing Ke, who tried to assassinate Qin Shi Huang, I shall go meet this woman. To do that, I have to live a long life first. Killing the Invincible One, killing Seoyugi... what a boring life is that? You crazy fighting-cock bastards."
Who the hell is Jing Ke?
This is why you should never share a table with an educated bastard.
In any case, the Ma Family, to which Maryeong belongs as its head, has long been the sword of the Ming Dynasty.
Along with the trusted Yak Family and the Yang Family, they were a shield that protected the imperial family.
It was an era where even the emperor practiced martial arts.
How strong must the masters who protect such an emperor be?
The martial arts of the Ming military are faithful to the basics and restrained.
That is the nature of battlefield martial arts.
Easy to use in joint attacks, and unrefined.
It was the same in any country.
The Ma Family of my past life.
A maverick who never learned any supreme martial arts.
Among the countless martial artists swarming the world like insects, there is no one who hasn't learned the basic arts.
But what if one spent their entire life polishing only those basic arts?
One.
A trivial voice, the kind you might hear anywhere in the market, drifts on the wind.
The sound of a commoner's grumbling.
A crude intent.
Crack!
The sound drills into my head.
Whipping my head around as if drawing a quick sword, I saw Cheonritong thrusting his now-shorter shoulder at me, his severed arm tumbling through the air in the distance.
It was severed by Maryeong's martial art.
Did the sword even move?
I didn't even see it being drawn.
Within the slowed perception of time unique to a martial arts master.
I immediately headbutt Cheonritong in the chest as he tries to trip me, making him lose his balance.
Jegalbi must also be preparing an ultimate technique, as he's been silent for a while.
Cheonritong, too, was exhausted from his unstable condition and the fierce battle.
However,
A beggar never loses a dogfight.
And what's more, I am the god of beggars.
Come to think of it, why is Maryeong just sitting on the ground looking pathetic?
He shouldn't be that exhausted.
What happened?
Some of us are running around until our feet are raw.
"Useless bastard. This is why philandering bastards are no good!"
Muttering that made me feel a little better.
At the same time, the one-armed Master of the Haomun wildly swung his remaining arm at me.
I evaded the blow with the Namgung Family's Muhanbo, its countless variations allowing me to slip away.
He was persistently aiming only for my right arm.
The sight was so ridiculous I let out a laugh.
"Ha, Cheonritong. Just because you lost an arm, you're trying to make everyone else one-armed? You pathetic bastard. I can't help but applaud. You should be getting revenge on Aryeong, who's collapsed over there. Why are you taking it out on me? You're an idiot. Why? I don't feel like telling you."
"There's a limit to your bullshit... Sword God, do you have the breath to spare for talk?"
That was Cheonritong.
He was probably asking how I could talk while fighting.
To be honest, I didn't have much breath to spare either, but I was squeezing it out somehow.
It would be boring otherwise.
I let out a laugh.
I kick Cheonritong in the abdomen as he retracts his outstretched arm.
He lightly steps back three paces to evade it.
As I moved to follow, I stopped abruptly.
Wait, how long has it been since Jegalbi cast a spell?
For these people, who split a single moment into thousands of usable fractions, it was an unusual situation.
Immediately, the unique intent of a spellcaster poured out like ink.
The incantation of the spell-based martial arts was what they only used.
—Whether the world is ruined or saved, what does it matter when my own safety is uncertain.
Martial Way of Crouching Dragon.
—You should have fought with all your might until your bodies broke.
You lack the desperation to kill the invincible one.
Giving One’s Most Effort.
Thousands of yellow talismans flew up from Jegalbi's robes and were instantly torn to shreds.
And then.
"See you in the next life."
With a flick of Jegalbi's fingers.
The torn talismans began to rain down as hundreds of thousands of daggers.
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