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Translator/Editor: Asakusa

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◈ A Wandering Warrior's Survival Guide ◈

Chapter 46: Eat or Be Eaten (2)

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Murong Geon sensed a strange aura from Cheon Hwi, something he had never felt before.

It was a sensation he had never experienced within the sheltered walls of the clan estate, much less in the innermost residence.

Shiver...

Goosebumps rose along Murong Geon's arms.

Without real combat experience, Murong Geon did not know what it was. It was the aura that rose when a martial artist harbored killing intent.

It felt as though the hair on his head were standing on end.

As Cheon Hwi's aura changed, Murong Geon unconsciously widened the distance between them. He had not even controlled his own movements. It was a moment that plainly exposed his lack of real combat experience.

Then it happened.

Cheon Hwi's foot, which had been moving slowly, explosively kicked off the ground.

The unhurried flow of Returning Cloud Step changed in an instant. It shifted into blinding speed, like lightning flashing within the clouds.

Explosive force burst forth as though lightning had struck down from the clouds.

Thwang!

Cheon Hwi, who had been far away only a moment ago, thrust his blade before Murong Geon's eyes before he could even blink.

Clang!

Cheon Hwi had vanished from sight and somehow slipped inside his guard, straight into the center of the weak point where the two flows of the Twin Dragons Whirlwind Fist crossed.

Murong Geon tried to drive out a fist and force Cheon Hwi back, but strangely, the main lines of attack had already been cut off by Cheon Hwi's sword.

Startled, Murong Geon hurriedly twisted into a secondary fist path to defend himself, but Cheon Hwi's sword moved first.

The speed of Cheon Hwi's swift swordplay had risen dramatically after meeting the Meteor Chasing the Moon Movement Technique.

That alone made it no different from an excellent sword form.

A long flash cut through the broad daylight like the tail of a shooting star.

Clang!

‘Meteor Sword Forms, First Form: Swift.’

It was a new sword art stitched together in the Martial Classics Pavilion by combining the Murong Clan's countless sword principles with the framework of the Three Powers Swift Sword.

Explosive movement technique and Cheon Hwi's swift swordplay had come together to create a new martial art.

It did not yet have a proper form name, so he had temporarily named it Swift. Still, it was the finest sword art Cheon Hwi could create from the Three Powers Swift Sword.

‘Left? Right? No... straight ahead!’

Cheon Hwi's body flickered as he leaped left and right in a zigzag pattern.

Unable to read that movement, Murong Geon's fist had already gone off course, aimed past Cheon Hwi's body.

Cheon Hwi's sword shot out like lightning, drawing a line through the air and breaking Murong Geon's defense in one stroke.

Clang!

“Ghk!”

The first strike knocked aside his fist, and the second followed as though the two were a single sword movement, striking at his exposed upper body.

It resembled Twin Dragons Open the Gate, the first form of the Twin Dragons Whirlwind Fist he had used moments ago.

The difference was that while Murong Geon opened his opponent's defense by alternating both hands, Cheon Hwi had created the same effect by swinging one sword as quickly as if he held two.

The tip of Cheon Hwi's iron sword rested precisely against Murong Geon's thick Adam's apple.

Blood gathered at the blade's tip before a thin stream ran down.

What that meant in a sparring match was clear.

Cheon Hwi's victory.

The gong signaling the end of the match rang once more.

“Stop!”

The Murong Clan martial artists rushed forward in alarm at the sight of a blade held to the young master's throat.

But Cheon Hwi merely withdrew his sword calmly.

Cheon Hwi's sword had been hammered in the bloodshed of the battlefield. He knew how to control his killing intent.

Those who had doubted Cheon Hwi fell silent.

‘He was the real deal.’

‘It wasn't just a rumor.’

A few people looked as though, though they had expected the outcome, they had not imagined it would end so quickly as to feel almost anticlimactic.

Murong Rin, who had been looking down with a stiff expression, had unconsciously uncrossed her arms.

She had expected Cheon Hwi to win from the start. But she had expected a hard-fought victory. Murong Geon had learned the Murong Clan's profound martial arts, while Cheon Hwi's movements, though animalistic, did not seem like a martial art with any particular degree of refinement.

Murong Geon's inner energy was greater as well. The number, variety, and depth of the martial arts he had learned were overwhelmingly superior.

If it had been the Cheon Hwi she had seen a day ago, he should have struggled considerably.

‘He grew that much in just one day inside the Martial Classics Pavilion?’

His movement technique, footwork, swordsmanship, and even his inner cultivation method, the foundation that supported all those things, had all reached a level of refinement incomparable to before.

“Ha ha ha ha!”

Murong Geon laughed heartily.

Then he understood his father's true intention.

He could not win anyway. His father had meant that if he wanted to win, he would have to face Cheon Hwi prepared to kill, and even then it might not be enough.

Once he realized that, Murong Geon could not deny his defeat.

“Only now do I believe that you defeated the Black Fist Twin Tyrants.”

To Cheon Hwi's surprise, Murong Geon openly acknowledged his loss and cupped his hands.

“I have learned a lesson. There must be a reason you're famous both inside and outside the clan.”

Cheon Hwi was somewhat impressed by how cleanly Murong Geon accepted defeat, and found himself liking him a little more.

Like the temperament that had made him choose fists over the Murong Clan's famous swordsmanship, Murong Geon was a forthright man.

“What do you say to discussing the match we just had? We can talk while treating that shoulder wound of yours. Come with me.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I should be thanking you. Come to think of it, have you eaten? You look hungry. I'll treat you to a proper feast!”

Murong Geon and the clan head had clearly intended to devour Cheon Hwi.

But once the sparring match ended, Cheon Hwi was the one who devoured something instead. Not Murong Geon's reputation, but the entire table of meat Murong Geon had laid out.

“Eat slowly.”

Murong Geon looked rather startled as he watched Cheon Hwi eat like someone who had not eaten in days. He knew that the Outer Hall warriors were fed fairly well.

“You really do look like someone who's been starving for days...”

In truth, it was not far from the truth.

Perhaps because he had died and died again, he felt as though an enormous amount of time had passed in his mind, leaving him hungry. That was why he had brought fasting pills with him.

Made from pressed grains and pine resin to save practitioners as much training time as possible, fasting pills naturally tasted awful.

Perhaps Murong Geon was still upset about losing the sparring match, because he did not seem to have much appetite.

“If you aren't going to eat, I'll finish it all.”

“...Go ahead and eat.”

Cheon Hwi scooped up chunks of pork braised in some soy sauce-like seasoning whose name he did not know and stuffed them into his mouth. He was also the only one constantly scooping rice from the full pot into his bowl.

“Watching you eat so well puts me in a good mood too. Yes, ha ha! Have some wine as well.”

Pour...

Cheon Hwi readily accepted the drink. It was a clear rice wine with an excellent fragrance.

Though it was pork braised in seasoning, the unimproved pigs of this era had a strong rank odor. The wine did much to cleanly wash that smell away.

“The cook is remarkably skilled.”

As Cheon Hwi began to finish his meal, Murong Geon asked,

“Did you notice anything about my fist art? Is there anything you would like to add?”

Cheon Hwi briefly considered what came to mind, but held back.

“What would I know about fist arts?”

He looked elsewhere as he changed the subject.

The words caught in his throat were, “I saw the manual you use, and that isn't how you're supposed to do it.”

But how could he say that aloud?

“What do you mean, what would you know? I merely meant that we should review our sparring match together.”

“You should look through other good martial arts manuals as well.”

“...Hm?”

“If I may venture a guess, Young Master, you have only studied the manual for the Twin Dragons Whirlwind Fist.”

“...!”

Murong Geon was startled by those words.

That was correct.

“Can you tell?”

“Well, it was only a guess.”

He had always found studying boring, and reading martial arts manuals, the reason he had to study in the first place, was the next most boring thing.

Martial arts could not be learned by memorizing manuals! That was Murong Geon's belief.

Rather than memorizing mnemonic formulas and contemplating them, Murong Geon believed it suited him better to seek instruction from the clan's first-rate fist masters and learn directly from them.

“...You saw through it exactly. How embarrassing.”

After stuffing a mouthful of stir-fried vegetables and rice into his mouth, chewing, and swallowing, Cheon Hwi spoke.

“You know what they say.”

“...?”

“The most frightening person is someone who has read only one book in their life.”

“Someone who has read only one book is frightening...”

Murong Geon pondered those words. Then, as if he had gained some insight, he nodded and bowed his head in thanks.

“You keep teaching me. Thank you, truly. Then I should tell you something in return.”

That was how Cheon Hwi learned from Murong Geon about the Martial Alliance Call-Up Order.

Han So-gyeom had already given him some hint of it. Still, it was useful information, since he had not known how the Murong Clan regarded the matter.

“The Murong Clan is in Liaodong, so we are somewhat removed from the heart of the Central Plains, where the Nine Sects and One Gang clash fiercely. It takes months even for a rumor from the Central Plains to reach us.”

The clan head and leadership might have been content with the Murong Clan's position, but it was naturally different for the younger generation, who wished to win renown and make names for themselves in the Martial World.

“Then naturally, would not the name of the Murong Clan gradually be forgotten as well?”

It seemed that such a sense of crisis quietly hung over the clan.

Martial arts could not advance while trapped within a well. The clan's martial artists, even the direct descendants who would lead the clan, would fall behind martial artists from other sects.

That anxiety was plainly apparent.

‘Living as a direct descendant of a prestigious clan is not easy either.’

Cheon Hwi had nothing to add. He simply raised his cup in a toast.

After they clinked cups and drained them, Murong Geon spoke.

“You will surely be heading there as well, will you not?”

Cheon Hwi sensed it.

The heart of the Central Plains, where true masters mingled, was calling to him.

But would he go with the Murong Clan? He had no particular intention of doing so. Nor did he especially want to travel with the Guarding Martial Authority.

He would use them if necessary, but he did not want his freely moving feet to be bound.

“This land is too far from what is called the Central Plains, is it not? Yet now, the world says it needs us! The elites of the Five Great Clans and the Nine Sects and One Gang will gather to subjugate the remnants of the Blood Cult and discuss the safety of the Central Plains.”

A fierce desire for victory and ambition burned in Murong Geon's eyes.

“I intend to join this journey to the Martial Alliance no matter what. I will compete with the world's greatest talents and make my name known throughout the Martial World.”

He set down his empty cup and looked Cheon Hwi directly in the eye.

“What do you say? Will you come to the Martial Alliance with me? With your strange martial arts, you could astonish the world.”

Cheon Hwi would go, of course.

But he had no intention of going with this man, Murong Geon.

As he considered how to brush him off, perhaps by bringing up the Guarding Martial Authority, he sensed someone outside the door.

“Young Master Murong Geon, are you inside?”

“Yes, I'm here. What is it?”

“...The Clan Head has issued a summons.”

“Me?”

A myriad of emotions crossed Murong Geon's face as he began to rise.

He thought he might be reprimanded for losing to an Outer Hall warrior.

But that was not it.

“No. The Clan Head has called for Outer Hall warrior Cheon Hwi.”

Murong Geon was startled.

An Outer Hall warrior directly meeting the clan head was surely unheard of even if one searched a hundred years back and a hundred years forward through Murong Clan history.

Cheon Hwi looked down at the ripples spreading across his wine cup.

‘Has the time come for me to go?’

He had gained nearly everything he could from the Murong Clan.

Then it was time to leave.

After pondering briefly, Cheon Hwi gave a strange answer, neither acceptance nor refusal.

“Before that, may I meet the Outer Hall Chief Steward for a moment?”

“Hwi. Wanderers like us must always walk one step ahead.”

When taking a step into the forest, one had to think of where the next foot would land.

Since childhood, Cheon Hwi had learned by watching that this was the necessary way of life for surviving the Martial World as a wanderer with no one to rely on.

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