WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Chen
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◈ The Martial Genius who Remembers Everything ◈
Chapter 527: The Monster That Feeds on Despair (12)
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Long ago, Confucius did not speak of strange phenomena, supernatural strength, disorder, or spirits.
Ghost stories were passed down among common people, but most were distorted accounts of things they had misunderstood.
For example, someone might see a person using Void-Walking at night and mistake them for a ghost. Or they might see remote object manipulation and Samadhi True Fire and assume it was the magic of a goblin.
In that sense, martial artists had a more objective view of such matters than ordinary people, even if they were not quite like Confucius.
No, once they became masters, they often wanted to meet a ghost.
Those who feared nothing in the world tended to look forward to new experiences.
“The Black King...?”
“Not the Black King. The Wraith, the Black King’s Wraith!”
“So the Black King’s Wraith... Um... you mean a ghost?”
“I said it isn’t a ghost! It’s the real Black King!”
“...”
For a master with Gongson Pung’s experience and seniority to be so emotionally confused that he could not even explain himself was beyond absurd. It was almost fascinating.
A person of his skill would not have been this shocked even if the Black King himself had appeared before him.
“So you mean it is a ghost, but not a ghost. The Black King, but not the Black King himself?”
“Haah. Typical White Path fool. You really can’t understand a thing.”
Something surged up from deep inside my chest, but I barely held it back by circulating the Taeul True Scripture at full force.
The wound Joo Anpyeong had left me had not fully healed yet.
If I had not been injured, we would have settled this in a fight to the death.
I kept my expression under control and listened.
“So this is the Sword Sovereign’s tomb, isn’t it...”
For the first time, Gongson Pung spoke at length.
As though the divide between the Black Path and White Path meant nothing before this story.
According to him, when the Sword Sovereign realized his life was nearing its end, he looked into the Black King’s remaining lifespan and found that the Black King still had many years left. That worried him greatly.
If the Black King remained after he was gone, the White Path martial world would fall.
So the Sword Sovereign took the Black King into his tomb with him, preserving peace in the martial world.
Yet the Black King, the only one to survive inside, became consumed by resentment.
Because of his hatred for the Sword Sovereign, he had used a heaven-defying art to survive until now, preparing his revenge.
“...”
I was speechless at that ridiculous story of a burial sacrifice, and Gongson Pung’s expression twisted.
“You don’t understand? How frustrating. You really are a White Path idiot.”
His mockery made my anger rise again, but I endured it because of my injuries.
Instead, I answered logically.
“If that story is true, couldn’t the Black King have left this place after the Sword Sovereign died?”
“You really can’t think, can you? Have you not noticed that this place’s terrain has changed dozens of times already? Paths that once existed have vanished, and new paths are opening where walls used to be.”
“...Then why would the Black King’s resentment be directed at the White Path? Wouldn’t the Black Path be able to receive help instead?”
“Haah, honestly... Teaching anything to a White Path bastard takes endless patience. If it cannot distinguish between the White Path and Black Path and has lost all reason, why do you think people call it a ghost?”
“...”
I wanted to argue further, but that would have made me want to fight Gongson Pung to the death for real. So I nodded vaguely and changed the subject.
“Either way, if something that dangerous exists, shouldn’t we work together to get out of here?”
“How can we cooperate with bastards trying to use us as food for the Black King’s Wraith by holding their meager food supplies over our heads?”
...Wow. He was truly peerless at making people speechless.
If I stayed any longer, I really would end up fighting Gongson Pung, so I left.
He grabbed the collar of a Black Path martial artist standing nearby and shouted.
“How can we cooperate with the White Path? Those hypocrites!”
“I-I’m not one of them, Great Hero!”
His voice continued to echo behind me long after I had left the area crowded with Black Path martial artists.
Before returning to my group, I looked around the cavern once more.
It was so vast that it took quite a while to cross without using my movement art.
‘All the caves except the three main passages are being guarded...’
There were people guarding the three main passages as well, but hardly anyone seemed to come and go through them. Survivors only emerged occasionally from the smaller, connected caves.
White Path figures came out of places guarded by the Black Path, and the reverse also happened. Yet no one immediately attacked those who came out.
“Was Joo Anpyeong the only one making such a fuss?”
Instead, the injured received hurried first aid, while those who could speak were taken to people who seemed to be leaders of the Martial World Corps or the Black Path camp to discuss something.
Even so.
‘The Black King’s Wraith...’
The ghost story Gongson Pung had told kept circling through my mind.
When people encountered something they could not understand, they made up stories to fill that empty space.
Most ghost stories began as explanations for incomprehensible situations.
That meant this story of the Black King’s Wraith was proof that their current situation was just as unfathomable.
“It has lived here for two hundred years...”
Having seen proof of immortality in the Moon Maiden’s tomb, I could not dismiss the claim entirely.
Still, that had only been a case of prolonging life within a limited area through unorthodox methods and a special artifact.
Neither alive nor dead, an immortal state that was not truly life or death.
A half-corpse created by a mad obsession with beauty and youth.
But casting such spell arts over an entire cavern as large as a city?
Not even a Great Luo Immortal could accomplish that.
By that logic, Qin Shi Huang would still be alive as well.
“Then what is the Black King’s Wraith?”
More importantly, the Sword Sovereign and the Black King had been close friends while they lived.
No matter how worried the Sword Sovereign might have been about the White Path martial world, he would never have forced the Black King into a burial sacrifice.
In the end, the fact that such a plausible story spread among the people only meant they were trembling with that much fear.
“The Wudang Sect...”
The Wudang Sect had fled, claiming a monster had appeared where people had gathered.
The people in the Central Wing were starving and dying, yet they were too afraid of the Black King’s Wraith to leave.
One incomprehensible situation after another tangled together and muddled my thoughts.
“Whew.”
Perhaps because the tension had eased, muscle pain swept through me.
I was not in a position to perform qi-regulating breathing, so I sat down wherever I could and examined the Black King’s martial legacies I had acquired.
[Twelve Tyrant King Hands]
[Tyrant King Divine Fist]
The Black King’s ultimate art in life had been a saber art, but that did not mean his other martial legacies were lacking.
Even the [Twelve Tyrant King Hands] and [Tyrant King Divine Fist] he had left behind carried extraordinary power.
They were profound, high-level martial arts, difficult for even me to comprehend despite my expanded understanding of the Taeul True Scripture and martial arts in general.
“The Tyrant King Divine Fist is the one I can use right away.”
Even then, I could only use its first three forms.
I could not imagine the destructive power I would wield after learning all fifteen forms.
His martial art was direct and efficient.
Yet each form contained several insights. Its movements resembled those of lesser fist arts, but they produced entirely different results.
“He was an incredible person.”
If his martial arts had not been lost, the Five Sects, Two Gangs, and One Association would each have held different positions in the Black Path martial world.
The latter part of the Tyrant King Divine Fist contained records reviewing his sparring matches.
[The Sword Sovereign used a despicable method to redirect his sword path and stop Tyrant King Enters the World. It requires improvement.]
[The Sword Sovereign used a shameless method to stop Tyrant King Gazes at the Moon. It requires improvement.]
[The Sword Sovereign used a trick to evade Tyrant King Faces Heaven. It requires improvement.]
“...Did this person have no friends besides the Sword Sovereign?”
The Sword Sovereign was always his opponent in those sparring records.
Then again, perhaps the Sword Sovereign had been the only person of that era capable of withstanding those martial arts.
Either way, their relationship had been close, and they had stood as equals.
That was why the story of the Sword Sovereign sacrificing the Black King in his tomb made no sense.
“Then what does this ghost refer to?”
I tried to continue thinking, but my mind would no longer cooperate.
Both my body and mind were exhausted to their limits.
Even so, I did not think sleep would come if I tried to rest.
“...I should go back.”
After gathering myself, I stood and walked for a long while before returning to my group.
We had set up camp near the center of the White Path gathering, though we were some distance from the Martial World Corps.
It was probably because Shaolin Temple and the Moyong Clan were with us.
The atmosphere among my companions felt strangely unsettled.
“What is it?”
I asked Geumpyo, but he shook his head.
“It’s nothing.”
I looked at the others.
They all wore similarly complicated expressions.
“What is it?”
“...”
Only then did I realize someone was missing.
“Where is the Moyong Clan’s Deputy Group Leader?”
The Deputy Group Leader was nowhere to be seen.
For some reason, Geumpyo lowered his head even further.
“Geumpyo?”
Nam Hwaseong shouted in his place.
“That bastard accused you of killing Moyong Clan members. Geumpyo almost ended up fighting the Deputy Group Leader over it.”
“...”
Geumpyo muttered in a wronged tone.
“Senior Brother didn’t do it on purpose. Shaolin Temple monks died too...”
“When I asked whether someone among us had to die before the Deputy Group Leader would stop being suspicious, they said they would not have doubts if that had happened. So I challenged them to a duel.”
“Nam Hwaseong, you did?”
The Moyong Clan’s Deputy Group Leader was far beyond Nam Hwaseong’s ability to handle.
“Damn right, I did! How could I hear something like that and just take it?”
Part of me felt warmed by his words, but a cold feeling rose from the memories of my previous life.
How had I vented the same resentment the Deputy Group Leader felt now?
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No.”
“...Why not?”
“What did you say, bastard?”
“Where did the Deputy Group Leader go?”
A clear voice spoke from beside us.
“They went to join the Martial World Corps.”
It was Moyong Seol.
“Lady Moyong.”
“I’m sorry for the Deputy Group Leader’s rudeness. The Deputy Group Leader knows it too. They know that Hall Master Jin did not do it on purpose.”
I could not speak.
I had known casualties would occur on the way to the Central Wing.
At the same time, I had known the losses would only grow worse.
I had made that choice anyway.
Because I did not want to sacrifice Yuseong Hall for them.
“The clan members...”
“They all died, except for the Deputy Group Leader...”
Only then did I turn to look at Shaolin.
Four people from Shaolin Temple were missing as well.
I had saved Yuseong Hall, but sacrificed even more people in exchange.
“I’m sorry.”
The weight settled heavily in my chest because I had committed the act knowing the outcome.
In my previous life, I had shoved the identification tokens of my fallen comrades before the command staff and cursed them without restraint.
How deeply had I hated those people who had treated me coldly without even blinking?
At least in that moment, I had wanted to tear apart the people who gave the orders more than I had wanted to kill the Demonic Cult.
Did Moyong Seol want to kill me now as well?
The only words I could offer were...
“I’m sorr...”
“Why are you apologizing?”
She asked me.
“At that moment, was there a better choice?”
“...No.”
The words that came from her were not the bitterness and resentment I had expected.
“Hall Master Jin saved the Moyong Clan. You also saved us with the best judgment you could make at that moment.”
Her eyes shone calmly as she looked at me.
“You have nothing to apologize for. I should be the one apologizing in place of that pathetic Deputy Group Leader.”
There was not a trace of resentment or hatred in her gaze.
“So I do not think you have any reason to feel guilty.”
She comforted me in my previous life, and she comforted me now in this life as well.
She was clearly not the Moyong Seol I had known in my previous life, yet once again, I received deep comfort from her.
“Are you all right?”
My heavy body felt much lighter.
Without realizing it, I nodded.
“Then get some rest. You look very tired.”
She gave a small bow and turned away.
Strangely, I stared blankly at her back before collapsing and falling asleep.
#
Three days passed.
The stagnant situation had not changed much.
The Martial World Corps had yet to decide what to do and only gave orders for everyone to wait.
Survivors continued to arrive.
The injured barely received first aid, while survivors kept going back and forth to the tents where the leaders were gathered for some reason.
Even the first aid was not treatment. It was nothing more than simple, temporary care.
“The Tang Clan is running out of the medicinal herbs they brought too.”
They had brought more than enough medicine, but it was not enough to treat everyone gathered in the Central Wing.
Medicine was not the only thing running short.
Food was slowly dwindling as well.
Our group was also sharing food with Shaolin Temple, and our supplies were steadily shrinking.
We had already cut our meals in half and reduced our activity as much as possible.
I checked whether the leaders or other White Path groups had spare food, but they were in the same situation.
One night, everyone had fallen asleep from hunger and their injuries.
“Hall Master Jin...”
Do Gwangsu approached me and called out quietly.
For some reason, I had a bad feeling and frowned deeply.
“What is it?”
After checking his surroundings, he discreetly held out his hand.
“Please eat this.”
Do Gwangsu held out two Fasting Pellets and three pieces of jerky.
“What is this?”
“...I had them hidden away. Please, eat them.”
Do Gwangsu tried to force them into my mouth while avoiding everyone else’s eyes.
I only took one Fasting Pellet and two pieces of jerky.
“You said you brought these. Save them carefully. We don’t know how long we’ll have to wait.”
“Ah... It’s fine.”
Do Gwangsu was sharing food.
Living again, I experienced all kinds of strange things.
Another two days passed.
How long had I slept?
My eyelids felt as though they weighed a thousand pounds, and my entire body ached.
The Ten-Thousand-Year Earth Bear’s energy had clearly healed all my wounds, yet I still felt like this. My strength must have been depleted, and my condition was worse than I thought.
It was only natural. I had not eaten a proper meal and had been waiting this entire time, so there was no sign of my body recovering.
Just as I restrained my returning awareness and was about to drift back to sleep.
“Jin Sowoon! Hall Master Jin! Wake up!”
A rough hand shook me.
“...Nam Hwaseong, if you wake me up like this one more time, I’ll throw you into the Golden Prison.”
“Are you crazy? Even if you are the Hall Master, you can’t do that!”
“Then why did you wake me?”
Nam Hwaseong’s expression grew urgent again at my question.
“A fight, a fight broke out.”
My hazy mind cleared at once.
“The Demonic Cult? Jiangshi?”
It was far sooner than expected.
“How many enemies are there?”
Nam Hwaseong shook his head.
“No. A fight broke out in the Central Wing.”
“Why?”
“The Martial World Corps is attacking the Black Path.”
Footnotes:
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