WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
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Chapter 186: Spring Silkworms Spin Silk Until Death (10)
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‘Already cut?’
He meant the Ten-Thousand-Li Tracking Incense.
On the surface, it was incense, but its true nature was a Formless Sword created by a master of the transformation realm.
Its trace could never, ever be erased.
‘But is there really no way?’
Yeon Sowol pondered it.
Chungdam True Man gave him an answer.
“There is a way. Though it may be one only you can use.”
“You mean...?”
“Yes. The power of your Extinction of Principles. A power capable of tearing apart even this world. Whether it is the Formless Sword itself or the wound it left behind, you may be able to tear it away as well. But...”
All the doors of the room were shut. Since the winter days were short, long shadows lay across Chungdam True Man’s eyes.
“Can you do that?”
Yeon Sowol shook his head.
“No. I can’t see so much as a thread.”
The Heaven-Killing Star. No, the conditions to activate the power of Extinction of Principles were twofold.
First, he had to make contact.
Second, he had to recognize the target.
The second condition had not been met.
“That is only natural. To recognize a Formless Sword, you would need to have at least set one foot into the transformation realm.”
It was called the Formless Sword, after all.
Chungdam True Man nodded, then looked at Yeon Sowol as though something had suddenly occurred to him.
“Wait. Come to think of it, Sowol. Last time, you completely wiped out your heart demon, did you not?”
“Yes.”
“Could that have been...?”
“Yes. Once I recognized the heart demon, I could kill it.”
“Hm.”
Chungdam True Man let out a long sigh.
“Remarkable. Extinction of Principles... Before it, no demonic trickery or monstrosity would matter. You can destroy anything, as long as you can recognize it. You are the natural enemy of demons. But...”
Chungdam True Man fell silent before continuing.
“What are we to do? If that power of yours fell into the hands of a demon, it would become the worst demon under Heaven and earth, unlike any the world has ever known.”
“Are you worried I might one day fall prey to a heart demon again?”
“That is not what I mean. I mean someone taking that power from you. There has already been a precedent, has there not?”
A precedent.
“Ah.”
Yeon Sowol remembered.
That day. The moment he fell from the sky.
The ghosts’ voices whispering in his ear.
The cold, unfamiliar sensation burrowing into his body.
“Surely not.”
“Yes. If they realize what power you possess, every demon in the world will become desperate to take it from you.”
If ghosts could steal it, what was to stop other demons from doing the same?
Flood Dragons, demonic practitioners. Demons were many, and the Dao was scarce.
“That...”
Yeon Sowol was at a loss for words.
A chill ran through him so fiercely that his entire body trembled.
If his secret were exposed, every demon under Heaven and earth would target him.
That alone was enough to make his spine go cold, but when he considered what would follow, he could only stare blankly ahead.
‘If the day truly comes when my power is stolen...’
Would that not be no different from the end of this world?
A demon wielding the power of Extinction of Principles...
Chungdam True Man sighed.
“I watched you closely for two reasons. First, your attitude as a cultivator who doggedly polished his heart to the very end. Second, the qi within you, which resembles the cosmos and is difficult even for me to fathom. Yet...”
The incense Chungdam True Man had lit was dying out.
He ran a hand over the smooth floor, then rose and lit more incense. White smoke rose clear and pure from beneath the porcelain lid of the censer.
He stood quietly before it, breathing in its fragrance. Then he returned to his seat and spoke with difficulty.
“Sowol. Demons are frightening things. From Gaozu of Great Dawn, who founded this nation, down to Zhang Sanfeng, patriarch who founded our Wudang, countless blood and tears had to be shed to fight demons and forge a path for humankind. To forge that narrow, narrow path.”
A narrow, narrow path.
It might sound strange.
The world was so vast. How could one call humanity’s path narrow?
Yet Yeon Sowol could now roughly guess the answer.
“By a narrow path, do you mean the struggle upon a snail’s horn?”
Even the struggle for hegemony over the world was said to be no more than a fight atop a snail’s horn.
Yang Hoeam had once quoted that tale in lament. Compared to this vast world, human beings were so insignificant. Yang Hoeam had despaired and fallen into corruption.
‘Then again, there’s a monster like that beneath Dongting Lake.’
The Demonic Cult ran rampant even in the Jianghu.
How many demons lay in wait throughout this world, and beyond the world itself?
Take even one step away from the Dao.
There lie demons.
Yeon Sowol could not yet fully grasp it, but when he thought of twenty-first-century Earth and imagined the boundless universe surrounding it as entirely filled with demons, he shuddered.
Chungdam True Man nodded gravely.
“Yes. Even the world itself is no more than a bubble briefly swelling within this endless, desolate expanse. We stand precariously, ever precariously, upon an infinite sea of demons. The broad and peaceful world people believe in is merely an outward appearance, barely maintained by His Majesty the Emperor and countless others. Yet you, upon that...”
He did not finish the thought, but Yeon Sowol understood.
‘My power. The power of Extinction of Principles...’
It would be the sharpest spear.
One capable of piercing even all those demons.
But a spear was not something only one side could wield.
If, by some chance, that spear was taken by demons...
Yeon Sowol had no choice but to ask.
“Then, Master. What should I do?”
Chungdam True Man gazed steadily at him.
Yeon Sowol.
A stranger who had fallen from another universe, grasping the power of Extinction of Principles.
Fated to be targeted by demons.
Already marked by one, no less.
The situation was now entirely different from when he had merely learned that the Ten-Thousand-Li Tracking Incense had been placed on him.
‘It is only a matter of time.’
The Demonic Cult would track him down.
Sooner or later.
The more they learned of Yeon Sowol, the more relentlessly they would pursue him.
The Demonic Cult would never give up.
That day might not be far away.
‘Then I...’
If Chungdam True Man had been the Sword Emperor, he would have made up his mind at once.
He would have decided Yeon Sowol must be killed here and now.
The danger if they failed to protect the power of Extinction of Principles was too great to consider it useful.
And the likelihood that they would fail to protect it was far too high.
But for Chungdam True Man, that was not the path.
He had already taken Yeon Sowol as his disciple.
He had even cooked meals for him.
To forcibly harm such a disciple?
That was not Nonaction.
All he could do now.
All he could do as a master.
What would naturally come to pass was...
‘That is it.’
I will... Yeon Sowol...
Then he suddenly understood.
Nonaction was not forcing something to happen. It was allowing things to flow as they naturally would.
There was no need to overthink it.
‘This is my heavenly mandate.’
A smile suddenly spread across his solemn, grave face.
Like someone who had emerged from a dark, dark forest and finally beheld the rising sun.
“Now I understand what I must teach you.”
Yeon Sowol blinked. He swallowed once.
He could tell this was not merely about what Chungdam True Man would teach him.
Perhaps it was Chungdam True Man’s own answer to how Yeon Sowol should live from now on.
Yeon Sowol straightened his posture and asked.
“What must this disciple learn first?”
“First.”
Chungdam True Man spoke.
“Bow.”
Yeon Sowol did not ask why.
He immediately rose. Before Chungdam True Man, who sat cross-legged, he prostrated himself and bowed.
Once.
“Do it nine times.”
“...Yes.”
The Rite of Nine Bows.
In the original China, the Rite of Nine Bows did not mean bowing nine times. But in this world, it truly meant making nine bows.
A master accepted someone they had decided to pass down everything to as a direct disciple, and the direct disciple offered nine bows to show their respect.
Strictly speaking, it was not a rite Yeon Sowol should have performed. He was only a lay disciple.
But Yeon Sowol did not ask why.
He simply offered nine bows.
Chungdam True Man nodded in satisfaction and rose.
“That is enough for today. Tomorrow, we will climb Celestial Pillar Peak.”
“What is on Celestial Pillar Peak?”
“On the way up, we will stop at the Patriarchs’ Hall to pay our respects. At its summit stands the Golden Hall.”
Chungdam True Man gave a faint smile and continued.
“The Golden Hall is also called the Golden Palace.”
“The Golden Palace of the Celestial Worthy, Incarnation of the Golden Palace Who Subdues Demons...?”
Yeon Sowol murmured without meaning to.
“Yes. That Golden Palace.”
He felt oddly overwhelmed.
Yeon Sowol, a lay disciple, would climb Celestial Pillar Peak.
He would visit the Patriarchs’ Hall, which enshrined Wudang’s successive patriarchs, and pay his respects.
Then he would ascend to the Golden Hall, which enshrined the True Martial Great Emperor worshipped by Wudang.
‘This...’
Yeon Sowol cautiously asked a question he needed to ask, considering his ties to the Guangdong Martial Alliance.
“But, Master. I am a lay disciple...”
“That is right. You are a lay disciple. You will remain one from now on as well.”
Chungdam True Man stepped down from the raised platform and put on his shoes. With his hands clasped behind his back, he said,
“But that is not important right now. In any case, rest today. You will be busy from tomorrow onward if you wish to learn. I have somewhere to visit for a moment.”
“Yes.”
Yeon Sowol silently lowered his head.
He did not know for certain, but he could feel it. Chungdam True Man had made some great decision.
The Patriarchs’ Hall. The Golden Hall.
Something was happening.
As though accepting that resolve, Yeon Sowol remained rooted in place.
Meanwhile, Chungdam True Man’s steps as he left the thatched cottage were carefree and light.
As though he found it all for the better.
“See you tomorrow.”
* * *
Hwagokja hurried toward the Hall of Manifest Dao.
The Chungdam True Man he had seen that morning had sent a disciple to summon him.
‘Martial Uncle has called for me twice in one day?’
Considering there were times when seeing Chungdam True Man even once a year was difficult, this was truly unusual.
“Martial Uncle. You called for me?”
Eight great jars stood silently within the dark Hall of Manifest Dao. Chungdam True Man stood before the last of them.
Kun, Earth.
The Earth Trace.
The painting upon the jar depicted Zhang Sanfeng and his disciples clearing away ruins and building a small house upon them.
Zhang Sanfeng built a house upon Wudang Mountain, which had been nothing but ruins, and lived there with his disciples.
Then one day, he told them,
“In time, this place will surely prosper. Guard it well.”
Yet Zhang Sanfeng himself simply left on his own.
Without taking his eyes from the jar, Chungdam True Man spoke.
“Hwagok.”
“Yes, Martial Uncle.”
“Do you remember the calamity in Liaoning?”
“...Yes.”
Liaoning. The calamity that had unfolded around the Moyong Family.
The incident had killed countless people and brought about innumerable strange phenomena. It had only barely ended through Moyong Jincheon’s sacrifice.
The Moyong Family had never fully regained its former strength afterward and had become even more secluded.
Hwagokja spoke heavily.
“Most demons are generally indifferent to the human realm. But when they take an interest in it and act, or even happen to cross paths with it, the scale of the disaster they bring, and how powerless we are, become painfully clear. That incident reminded us of this.”
How fragile human life was before the strange order created by demons.
A life spent anxiously hoping that greater demons, or more demons, would not turn their attention to the human realm. A life spent praying never to encounter them, even by chance.
Whenever he realized it, his heart went cold.
“That is true.”
After a brief silence, Chungdam True Man suddenly spoke.
Lightly.
As though suggesting they take a walk.
“Therefore, I will pass everything on to Sowol.”
“Pardon?”
“I mean exactly that. I will teach him everything. Tomorrow, I suppose... we shall begin with the Yin-Yang Divine Art.”
“Martial Uncle.”
Even Hwagokja, who had attained Loss of Self, could not readily understand Chungdam True Man’s words.
Was he saying he would accept Yeon Sowol as a direct disciple?
Then he would need to have Yeon Sowol sever his ties and name in the secular world, and grant him a Daoist name.
Yet Chungdam True Man said,
“Hwagok. Even so, do not bind Sowol. Let him roam the world freely as a lay disciple.”
“...Martial Uncle. May I ask why?”
Chungdam True Man still did not turn around.
He simply gazed quietly at the jar before asking in return.
“Hwagok. This jar represents Kun, Earth, does it not? They say it also symbolizes Nonaction. Do you know why?”
Hwagokja was puzzled, but answered nonetheless.
“If this unworthy one may offer an answer, it is because Patriarch Zhang Sanfeng did nothing by force. He merely lived here for a time before leaving. Yet that became a seed, and in time it truly brought about the revival of Wudang. It is surely just as the saying goes: nothing is left unfulfilled when nothing is forced.”
“Yes. Perhaps that is so.”
With his hands behind his back, Chungdam True Man turned to Hwagokja.
For the first time, their eyes met.
“Hwagok. Then hear what I say now.”
“Yes.”
“In the future, Sowol will surely destroy demons and greatly open the path for humankind. So guard him well.”
...!
“I will simply teach that child as his master. You, as Sect Leader, must not take my words lightly.”
Having said only that much, Chungdam True Man turned his back and left the Hall of Manifest Dao.
Without even waiting for Hwagokja’s response.
“Destroy demons...”
Zhang Sanfeng, Wudang’s founding patriarch.
Gaozu of Great Dawn, the founding emperor of the Great Dawn Empire.
And closer still, Chungdam True Man, Wudang’s sixty-eighth patriarch.
Hwagokja himself.
Countless kings, sect leaders, and patriarchs.
The path for humankind they had barely preserved by risking their lives.
Sowol would greatly open it?
If that...
If it were truly so...
Hwagokja remained rooted there for a long time, staring at the empty place Chungdam True Man had left behind.
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