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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: An Indiscreet Old Scoundrel
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Mujin shook his head as he watched the old man brutally gripping the white neck of a Buddhist nun who didn't even look like an adult yet.
"Look, either kill her or don't. I don't know where you left your sense, but for a man your age, you're quite the fool."
At Mujin's words, the old man, who had been licking his lips, glared at Mujin with a murderous glint in his eyes.
"What are you staring at? You should be dodging the sword flying at you."
At Mujin's words, the old man quickly turned his gaze back to the nuns and flinched.
In that instant, Mujin moved.
As he lunged toward the old man and raised his sword, the cloth wrapped around it tore apart in all directions.
*Riiiiip!*
With the satisfying sound of cotton tearing, Mujin's iron sword was revealed.
The old man sneered as the iron sword—with its dull blade that looked like it wouldn't draw a single drop of blood even if you pressed a finger against it, and a palpable, immense weight—rushed toward him.
Had he just come of age?
A greenhorn who clearly looked like a pampered young master, ignorant of the world.
He could easily block such a pathetic attack with one hand and take the boy's head.
"You clueless brat! What in the world is that? That lump of iron? I'm surprised you have the nerve to carry that around and call it a sword!"
With those words, the old man swung the sword in his hand to meet Mujin's.
He still hadn't let go of the nun's neck with his other hand.
The moment the old man's sword was about to strike down on Mujin's…
A sword aura, previously unfelt, suddenly erupted from Mujin's sword.
!!!
The old man twisted his body as he saw the powerful sword aura explode from Mujin's weapon.
He had reacted quickly because if he had tried to parry carelessly and failed, he would have been pushed back.
*Claaaang!*
As his twisted body weakened his sword's momentum, the old man's weapon clashed with Mujin's. His arm buckled, and he was involuntarily forced backward.
*'That power...!'*
His expression hardened as his own internal energy wavered against the heavy sword force pushing in.
Meanwhile, the twelve escort warriors, along with Cheol-muk and No-sak, charged in behind Mujin.
Mujin quickly twisted his sword and slashed at the old man's waist.
*Clang!!*
The old man, having already recovered his sword to block Mujin's, felt his arm tremble.
"Tch!"
Mujin clicked his tongue, seeing the old man dissipate his power with just a slight shake of his arm, unlike other lesser fighters.
*'Please, don't let go. Keep holding onto that nun!'*
Mujin screamed inwardly at the old man, the first person to block his sword since he had learned the Nine Swords of Dugu.
Mujin's sword continued to move.
Following the First Stance, he unleashed the Second Stance, Blade-Shattering Form. Mujin's aura changed, and his sword pressed the old man.
*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
But the old man, who had only retreated two steps, stood his ground and blocked all of Mujin's attacks.
Meanwhile, the escort warriors surrounded the old man.
Through the gaps, Cheol-muk and No-sak skillfully coordinated their attacks with Mujin's, striking at the old man.
*Whooosh!*
*Swiiish!*
Cheol-muk's fist and No-sak's iron staff flew simultaneously toward the old man's side and back.
*Th-th-thump!*
"Kuh!"
"Ugh!"
"..."
Before they could even grasp what had happened, No-sak, Cheol-muk, and Mujin were all pushed back a step.
"Keep attacking!"
Mujin wanted to end it while the old man still had the nun in his grasp.
He had a hunch that the situation would become much more difficult the moment that meddlesome old fool felt threatened and let go of his hostage.
"What are you all doing?!"
Mujin shouted, looking at the two nuns and the escort warriors.
They had to press the old man with a relentless barrage of attacks and settle the fight as quickly as possible.
Despite Mujin's shout, the nuns couldn't easily charge in, as their fellow disciple was in the old man's hands.
The escort warriors, however, thrust their swords at the old man from all sides without hesitation.
*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
Despite the attacks flying in from literally every direction, the old man showed no signs of collapsing.
It was as if his sword arm had multiplied into four, blocking every single attack.
*'If it weren't for that brat!'*
The old man seemed to be parrying every attack perfectly, but he was still being cornered.
If it weren't for the warrior pressing him with that massive iron sword, he could have toyed with the rest of them with a smile on his face.
After all, ever since reaching the pinnacle, the number of enemies had never been much of an obstacle for him.
But the reason this fight was so evenly matched was all because of the young man wielding that giant iron sword and using a sword art he had never seen or heard of.
*'If I can't kill him quickly, I might end up disgraced.'*
The moment the old man had that thought, Mujin read his mind perfectly.
Having no other choice, Mujin decided to make a decisive move.
It seemed the old man was about to let go of the nun's neck at any moment, so he was out of options.
-Fourth Stance. Form-Breaking Form.
As Mujin's sword aura and movements began to subtly change, the old man astutely noticed the shift.
*Clang! Ta-tang!*
The old man pressed in, attacking the very beginning of the change in sword aura.
But Mujin didn't back down, thrusting his sword forward to meet him.
*Clang!*
!!
The corner of the old man's eye twitched minutely.
Simple. Direct.
The old man couldn't help but be flustered by Mujin's sword move, which seemed to reject all variation and flow.
It was a physical law of the world that if a thrust was blocked, the sword's path would be deflected, leaving the chest open. If a slash was deflected, the flank and rear would be exposed, leaving one's back vulnerable.
Every martial artist knew this principle, which was why they incorporated variations into their movements and techniques.
A battle of wits, where one showed no openings and confused the opponent.
The more advanced one's strategies, the more people called them a master.
But the young man before him was rejecting all of those strategies.
An incredibly simple thrust.
But within that simplicity was the firm conviction that it could break through any strategy, that it would never be defeated.
*'How brutish!'*
Having already exchanged several blows with Mujin, the old man was well aware that Mujin's sword power surpassed his own.
Just by looking, it was clear that his opponent's sword was dozens of times heavier than his own.
Merely being able to block such a brutish sword proved that the old man was undoubtedly a martial artist of a remarkable level.
As Mujin's sword pressed in relentlessly, the old man slightly twisted his body and pushed the nun he held by the neck forward.
*'Stay right there. I'll cut you both down together!'*
Mujin, as if this were a welcome development, increased the force of his sword.
!!
*'This crazy bastard!'*
Until now, the escort warriors had recoiled in shock at the mere gesture of him using the nun as a shield, but Mujin charged forward as if welcoming the chance. The old man couldn't help but be taken aback.
"Damn it!"
*Claaaaang!*
In the end, the old man was forced to parry Mujin's simple yet troublesome thrust.
*Slice.*
In that opening, an escort warrior's sword lightly sliced across the old man's back.
The old man's face twisted like a demon's at the thought that he would never have been hit by the sword of such a pathetic underling if not for the power that had flowed in from Mujin's blade.
A thick killing intent emanated from his body, causing the escort warriors to flinch and tremble.
But even in that moment, Mujin, Cheol-muk, and No-sak did not stop their assault on the old man.
-Sixth Stance. One Sword Splits the Moon on the Water. A sword form said to be able to split even the moon reflected on the water's surface.
It was a sword form that focused all of one's physical strength and spirit into a single slashing motion.
"Hoo!"
Panting, Mujin gathered all of his meager internal energy, poured it into his iron sword, and raised it high.
It was the first time he had ever used this form in actual combat.
The reason he had never used a form beyond the fifth in a real fight until now was because he believed he hadn't perfectly understood them yet.
The Nine Swords of Dugu was not a sword art learned with the body alone.
It was a sword art where one could not confidently execute a form without perfectly understanding the principle and meaning behind its simple moves.
Thanks to the memories of his past life, he had understood the principles of the forms up to the fifth with little difficulty, but from the sixth onward, it was different.
Talk of cleaving the moon on the water, or the earth and sky.
Furthermore, the vague, abstract forms that spoke of cleaving even one's own beloved weapon were still in a realm beyond Mujin's comprehension.
But since he couldn't take down his opponent even after using the Fourth Stance, Form-Breaking Form, Mujin had no other choice.
*'I will cut him down!'*
The single-minded determination to cut down and kill his opponent.
With only that thought, Mujin's sword fell.
The moment he swung the sword down, it was as if all the surrounding noise was cut off, and he felt like he had fallen into a space of silence.
The world's time seemed to slow down, the situation unfolding in slow motion.
And within that, Mujin thought only of one future: splitting the old man's body in two.
Once he decided to kill, he would kill without fail.
The tenacity that had allowed him to kill his enemy even with a sword plunged into his heart as the Divine Demon was now being re-enacted in Mujin's body.
"You bastard!!!"
Letting out a Lion's Roar infused with internal energy that pushed back No-sak and Cheol-muk, the old man took a step toward Mujin, who dared to raise his sword to cleave him in two.
*'Before that sword falls, I'll cut you in half!'*
A fight between a swift sword and a heavy sword.
The moment the old man's sword moved to cut Mujin's waist in half before his own sword could fall…
Mujin and the old man brushed past each other.
"Hah... Hah... Hah..."
Having poured his entire body's internal energy, strength, and mental focus into executing One Sword Splits the Moon on the Water, ragged breaths escaped Mujin's lips.
The old man turned to look at Mujin.
"Wh-what in the world... was that... sword art?"
"It's not a name a scoundrel like you would know."
As Mujin finished speaking, the old man, split diagonally in half from his shoulder to his right leg, collapsed to the ground, spewing blood.
As the old man fell, Mujin dropped to one knee, sinking to the ground.
Leaning heavily on his sword and covered in a cold sweat, Mujin's belt was severed and fell to the ground.
It had truly been a battle won by a paper-thin margin.
If Mujin's concentration had wavered even slightly, or if his sword's force had been overpowered by the old man's, the one split in two would have been Mujin, not the old man.
"Young Master!!"
"Are you alright?"
Cheol-muk, who had a minor cut on his arm from the old man's sword, and No-sak, who had been shallowly stabbed in the shoulder, checked on Mujin.
"I'm just... exhausted. It's nothing."
At Mujin's words, the nuns from the Emei Sect finally came to their senses.
They had been so mesmerized by the final exchange between Mujin and the old man that they had even forgotten their fellow disciple was in the enemy's grasp.
A moment where time seemed to have stopped.
As time suddenly sped up again and Mujin's sword fell, they had felt a sense of ecstasy.
It was a beautiful sword stroke that would have captivated any martial artist who had reached a certain level of mastery.
"J-Jeong-yeon!"
"Cough! Cough!"
The nun, whose neck had been held for quite some time, coughed violently and brought a hand to her throat.
A vivid red handprint remained on her neck.
As they belatedly tended to her, coughing with tears and snot running down her face, the other nuns still couldn't take their eyes off Mujin.
"Hoo!"
Mujin, having finally pushed himself up, exhaled.
"I am Myeong-ryeong, a first-generation disciple of the Emei Sect. I don't know how to thank you for your help, Young Master."
Mujin shook his head at the nun who approached, holding her sword in a reverse grip and offering a fist-and-palm salute.
"It's fine. I didn't mean to get involved, so let's just forget it happened."
Seeing Mujin turn to leave after those words, Myeong-ryeong took a step toward him with a surprised expression.
"Excuse me!"
Mujin glanced back at her indifferently, his eyes weary.
"Could you... at least tell me your name?"
Myeong-ryeong bowed her head, saluting once more.
"...Hwa Mujin."
With that, Mujin turned so sharply it was as if a cold wind had blown, and went back to the carriage.
As if telling her not to speak to him again.
Myeong-ryeong stared blankly at his retreating back.
Until the carriage departed, Myeong-ryeong couldn't take her eyes off it as it moved away.
"Martial Aunt! Jeong-hye is not well!"
At the words of Jeong-hyeon, who was supporting her junior sister—limp, strength drained from her limbs, and covered in a cold sweat—Myeong-ryeong quickly approached and checked her pulse.
"...She's fine. She was just badly frightened and suffered minor internal injuries from the powerful aura. She'll recover quickly if we return to the main temple and give her a Hyeonwon Pill."
Jeong-hyeon sighed in relief at Myeong-ryeong's words.
Myeong-ryeong lifted the girl into her arms, used her lightness art, and leaped away.
Jeong-hyeon, after a brief glance at the cruelly bisected corpse of the Red Moon Sword, also followed after Myeong-ryeong.
Inside the carriage, Mujin calmed his breathing and spoke.
"Who is this Red Moon Sword scoundrel? With that level of skill and his age, he can't be a nobody."
At Mujin's question, Cheol-muk and No-sak just looked at each other and blinked.
Having spent their lives training on Mount Jung, they were just as ignorant of the affairs of the martial world as Mujin.
Seeing the two remain silent, Foreman Jeong, who had been watching them cautiously, spoke up.
"Red Moon Sword. He is..."
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