Chapter 11: Opportunity
by fnovelpia
Whoosh—!
The air split as four men scattered in all directions.
Killing intent closing in from every side.
Honestly, the angles were unavoidable.
Then it happened.
Shriek—!
The first sword came flying toward Cheongun’s back.
Cheongun didn’t flinch.
The moment the blade touched his back—
Creak—!
The sword struck his shoulder.
Instead of slicing through flesh, it bent like a bow.
Cheongun’s body dulled the blade as if crushing an iron ingot.
Only the hem of his clothes was slightly torn— his skin remained unscathed.
The Diamond Indestructibility, awakened after meeting the Demon.
An ordinary blade couldn’t even scratch his Vajra Body.
“!!!”
Before anyone realized, Cheongun’s figure had already closed in on the man’s right side.
A fist infused with inner force smashed into the man’s face.
Crack—!
The sound of a nose breaking.
Blood sprayed as the man staggered back.
Cheongun twisted his body and drove his elbow into the man’s throat.
Crunch.
The cervical vertebrae shattered.
The man let out a choked gasp and collapsed.
Soon after, the second man lunged from above as if plunging from the sky.
Cheongun’s right foot swung up to meet him.
Before the man’s sword could reach him, Cheongun’s heel struck first.
Crunch—!
The man’s ribs caved in, shattering under the impact.
His body slammed into the ground, kicking up dust.
Guh—!
A pained scream.
Ah, so noisy.
Cheongun mercilessly stomped down on the man.
His heel crushed the collarbone, pierced through the ribs, and drove straight into the spine.
The stench of blood thickened the air.
Like a swarm of bees, they had charged in— only to become corpses strewn across the ground in an instant.
The last remaining man stumbled back in panic.
Seeing his comrades fall so quickly, his thoughts must have been in turmoil.
“……Who the hell are you?”
“Why do you care?”
“Spare me.”
“Why should I? Did you never think a day like this would come? Did you really believe scum like you would live out your days laughing and carefree? Wow, you’re ugly and shameless.”
“If you spare me, I’ll spend the rest of my life hiding in the mountains.”
“Nah, pass. I’m exterminating vermin today.”
Men like these didn’t deserve mercy.
If spared, they’d just roam around killing innocents.
Killing them here was the merciful choice—for everyone.
Whoosh—!
The man, who had been gauging his chances, suddenly moved.
Dust kicked up beneath his feet as he bolted like lightning.
He fled toward the ridge at full speed, his figure disappearing from sight.
It was an astonishing pace.
But Cheongun’s senses, honed to extremes after meeting the Demon, didn’t lose track.
The flow of energy, the faint vibrations from the man’s sprinting steps, even the droplets of sweat falling—
Everything was crystal clear.
Cheongun pulled out the last two Shadow-Piercing Needles from his pocket—forcibly taken from Hong Soyeon and Baek Seol— and fitted them between his fingers.
Swish—!
The first needle split the air.
Its trajectory was precise, calculated to intercept the man’s path perfectly.
“!!!”
At the same time, the man spun around and deflected the needle with his sword.
Clang—!
The needle was knocked aside, clattering to the ground.
Even from a distance, it was visible.
The man’s lips curled into a smirk—
just as the second needle was released.
But this wasn’t just a throw.
Cheongun infused it with the pinnacle of the “Heaven-Earth Primordial Unity Art”.
The energies of Upper Yin and Lower Yang clashed, condensing the power of heaven and earth into the needle’s tip.
Yang enveloped Yin; Yin embraced Yang.
Then, the profundity of Thunder half-unfolded.
Hiss—!
The needle tore through the air with a sonic boom.
In its wake, a blue heat haze spiraled like a helix.
And then—
“Damn!”
The memorization pierced precisely through the man’s ankle bone.
Where the blade had penetrated, a flash of blue lightning crackled.
Shit! The man, his speed reduced, staggered and let out a sharp cry.
At that moment, Cheongun’s fingers stretched out toward the empty air once more.
A single strand of hair slipped from his fingertip, slicing through the air as it flew toward the man.
Though it was just a single strand, it carried an intensely compressed surge of energy.
“Madman!”
The man’s eyes widened in horror. He twisted his body in a belated attempt to dodge, but it was too late.
The hair, imbued with sword energy, grazed the back of his neck.
This was the so-called “Hair Sword Technique”— effortlessly severing flesh as if slicing through tofu. The strand cleanly cut through his jugular vein.
Pshhh—!
Blood gushed out like a fountain.
The man’s footwork crumbled as his body collapsed onto the dirt ground.
Even as he rolled across the ground, blood continued to spurt uncontrollably from his neck.
His once-light body suddenly felt heavy, as if weighed down.
It was because all the demons had died, deactivating his innate abilities.
“Huu.”
Cheongun let out a sigh.
He glanced around at the scattered corpses, then picked up one of the swords lying nearby.
Dragging the sword behind him, he walked toward the shrine.
The old shrine door creaked as he pushed it open, the rusted wood groaning in protest.
The deeper he went, the more stifling the air became.
By the time he passed the second and third doors, the pungent stench of blood assaulted his nostrils.
Cheongun pinched his nose and grimaced.
After navigating the narrow passage, he arrived at the final chamber— where he spotted two dark silhouettes.
One lay motionless on the ground.
It seemed life had already left it.
The other stood over the corpse, staring down at it.
Suddenly—
Whoosh! —
The figure turned its head.
Cheongun locked eyes with it.
The moment their gazes met, a shiver raced up his spine.
With a sidelong glance, Cheongun studied the figure’s appearance in detail.
Snow-white hair.
Yet a straight, unbent back.
A wrinkled face, but eyes that gleamed sharply.
He looked like an immortal straight out of legend.
Then, the old man spoke.
“Who the hell are you?”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than—
Grrroooooo—!!
The energy in the surroundings grew so thick it was hard to breathe.
In an instant, Cheongun felt his shoulders buckle, his legs wobbling under the pressure.
But it wasn’t just him.
The ground trembled, the walls shook.
An immeasurably vast aura enveloped the entire space.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Cheongun’s heart pounded violently.
The old man, looking amused, clasped his hands behind his back and walked toward him.
He was obviously a master.
No— not just any master.
A goddamn monster.
But there was a problem.
‘He’s not a demon?’
His innate ability didn’t react at all.
That old man… wasn’t a demon.
‘…This is bad.’
The worst-case scenario he had imagined was unfolding.
Baek Seol had told him that a group was lying in ambush here to ambush Namgung Hwi, which was why Cheongun had come to clear them out beforehand.
According to her intel, there was only one demon leader and a few small fry.
He’d already dealt with the small fry, leaving only the leader.
So that means…
“Surely not that old man?”
Cheongun couldn’t be sure of the old man’s identity.
That guy could be Ma Du, or maybe not.
For all he knew, the corpse lying on the ground might be Ma Du.
One thing was certain—his unique trait wasn’t reacting to the old man.
‘Who is he?’
He couldn’t figure it out at all.
The in-game illustrations and the actual appearance of the person were clearly different.
No matter how good his memory was, it was impossible to recognize someone just by their face.
“Hmm.”
The old master stroked his chin.
“A brat not even thirty years old, yet with sixty years of martial power. Did you stumble upon some heavenly opportunity?”
The old master chuckled warmly as he approached.
He looked exactly like the type who’d secluded himself in some remote mountain valley to cultivate the Dao.
“Keke. Which sect do you belong to? Doesn’t seem like the Black Path.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“It’s a family martial art.”
“Oh ho! That’s surprising. Must be quite the distinguished family.”
“My parents are dead.”
“……”
The old master didn’t press further.
The fact that it wasn’t the Black Path was enough.
To the old master, who had lived for decades, Cheongun’s nature was laid bare.
A rough, unpolished gem— eccentric and coarse, but untainted.
The initial hostility faded, replaced by a growing curiosity about the boy.
“So, boy, what brings you here?”
Cheongun glanced cautiously at the old master.
Should he be honest? Or not?
The hesitation was brief.
“I heard there was a demon cultist here.”
“And what does that have to do with you?”
“I came to kill him.”
“For what reason?”
“Isn’t killing someone in the martial world always about grudges?”
The straightforward answer made the old master’s eyebrow twitch.
“Sounds like you have a grudge.”
“Yeah.”
Cheongun was starting to feel uneasy about the situation.
The uncertainty of not knowing the old master’s identity unsettled him.
“That guy lying there… is he really Ma Du of the Yin Wind?”
“He is.”
“You killed him?”
“With my own hands.”
“How did it happen?”
“The night breeze was quiet, so I was just walking along with the wind. Then I saw this bastard. So I cut him down.”
I see.
Cheongun nodded quietly.
Uncharacteristically polite, he was.
In front of demons, he was the biggest thug around, but without his unique trait active, Cheongun was still just at the threshold of mastery.
To survive in the martial world, you had to be quick-witted.
Cheongun stole a glance at the old master and cautiously asked,
“Might I ask… what is your esteemed name?”
First things first— exchange names.
The old master let out a short laugh.
“Jin Museong.”
“…Huh?”
“Once is enough when asking. This old man’s name is Jin Museong. In the martial world, I am known as the Crimson Knight Sword Sovereign.”
Cheongun broke out in a cold sweat.
Jin Museong.
One of the ten celestial figures standing at the pinnacle of the Central Plains martial world— a grandmaster of absolute power.
The Ten Great Masters of the World.
A living legend, the very sky of the martial world.
…In simpler terms, one of the strongest beings in the setting.
Why was a monster like him here?
Cheongun was so stunned he couldn’t help but let out a hollow laugh.
The old master, looking amused, asked him,
“Now that you’ve heard my name, won’t you share yours?”
“Cheongun.”
“Meetings are the will of heaven, relationships are the will of earth. This, too, must be a bond woven by fate. Let me ask you one thing.”
Cheongun knew all too well about the Crimson Knight Sword Sovereign.
In ‘Cheongpung Chronicles’, the Crimson Knight Sword Sovereign was an old master you’d encounter randomly at an extremely low probability.
One peculiar thing about him was that he was always wandering in search of a disciple.
That’s why the community had a nickname for him:
“Would you like to become my disciple?”
A stroke of fate, they called it.
0 Comments