Episode 178: Debt

When Eugene Kwang returned, covered in blood, Tang Moo-jin hurriedly checked his condition.

Yoo Kwan-il’s attack had been filled with lethal intent, but there had been hesitation at the tip of his sword. As a result, none of Eugene Kwang’s numerous wounds were fatal.

Tang Moo-jin busily tended to him, speaking as he worked.

“I’ll treat you, but don’t push yourself for a while. If the wounds fester and you develop a fever, you might lose your sight or hearing. You could end up a fool.”

“I understand.”

“By the way, it seemed like he said something to you at the end. What was it?”

“He told me to follow but not to come closer.”

Tang Moo-jin’s expression shifted subtly at the strange words.

”…What could that possibly mean?”

“I don’t know. But there must be a reason.”

“At least he seems to have regained some consciousness. Maybe there’s a chance for treatment…”

“No, don’t count on it.”

Eugene Kwang wasn’t a physician, but as a martial artist, he could sense Yoo Kwan-il’s condition. Yoo Kwan-il was beyond recovery.

If his condition had been caused by practicing dark arts, he would have sought help from the Emei Sect, Shaolin Temple, or Tang Moo-jin.

But Yoo Kwan-il’s mental decline wasn’t due to such reasons. As the head of the Jeomchang Sect, he had no reason to dabble in dark arts, and such arts couldn’t have ruined a martial artist of his caliber.

‘It’s the heart.’

The martial artists of the Jeomchang Sect live with a sword aimed at their own hearts.

Yoo Kwan-il’s inner sword was sharper than most, and he had faced more trials than others. In the end, he crumbled under decades of solitude.

Eugene Kwang didn’t want to accept it, but he had to. Yoo Kwan-il was now more beast than man—a beast that remembered martial arts and wielded a sword.

Hyun Gong asked cautiously, “By the way, when did the former head master surpass the pinnacle? I don’t recall him being known as one of the Six Masters.”

“When he left the Jeomchang Sect, he was at the peak. It seems he surpassed the barrier while living alone in the north. It was a long time, so it’s not surprising.”

Before Eugene Kwang’s treatment was complete, Yoo Kwan-il began to move.

Tang Moo-jin hurriedly finished treating Eugene Kwang. The group maintained a safe distance, following Yoo Kwan-il as he had instructed.

Yoo Kwan-il’s movements were incredibly slow. He would stop and stand blankly for half a day, wander in circles as if lost, then suddenly find his direction again. He seemed like a wanderer lost in a daze.

What was more concerning was that Yoo Kwan-il rarely ate or drank.

“In the past four days, he hasn’t eaten anything, and the only thing he’s drunk is rainwater. His condition is extremely precarious.”

“Is that so.”

“He’ll collapse soon, and recovery will be difficult. We need to find a way before that happens.”

“No. Let’s just watch for now.”

Eugene Kwang looked at Yoo Kwan-il with a cold gaze. His father must have a reason for telling them to follow.

On the fifth day of their journey, Yoo Kwan-il headed towards a village.

Eugene Kwang, familiar with the northern geography, could guess his father’s destination.

“He’s going to the Black Dragon Gate.”

“Isn’t that where the Danchun Master is?”

“Yes.”

Even those unfamiliar with the north knew of the Black Dragon Gate.

Just as the great sects and the Six Masters were renowned in the central martial world, there were also masters and great sects outside the central region.

Though it was rare to hear about the north in the central martial world, the truth eventually comes to light.

The Black Dragon Gate was one of those famous sects, and its leader, the Danchun Master, was a renowned figure. Rumor had it that he had surpassed the pinnacle despite being a member of the unorthodox sects.

When Yoo Kwan-il stopped at the gates of the Black Dragon Gate, the gatekeepers frowned.

Yoo Kwan-il appeared as a frail old man, his clothes filthy. The sword at his waist was so worn it looked like a beggar’s tool for extortion.

One of the gatekeepers growled, “Get lost!”

Yoo Kwan-il showed no reaction. The gatekeepers, thinking to beat him away, raised their sheathed swords threateningly.

“You won’t get a handout standing there all day. Get lost before we crack your skull…”

In the next instant, Yoo Kwan-il swung his worn sword.

The heads of the two gatekeepers flew into the air. The scent of blood spread, and passersby screamed in shock at the sudden violence.

The gates of the Black Dragon Gate swung open, and martial artists poured out.

“Intruder!”

“He seems more skilled than he looks! Be careful!”

The martial artists of the Black Dragon Gate hesitated as they approached Yoo Kwan-il.

Even the leaders and sub-leaders couldn’t easily approach him and lost their lives.

When the number of headless bodies reached six, the crowd parted, revealing a man. It was the Danchun Master, the leader of the Black Dragon Gate.

“Stand back! The master is here!”

The Danchun Master didn’t approach Yoo Kwan-il recklessly. He assessed his martial prowess. As far as the Danchun Master knew, there was only one shabby old man with such skill.

‘Is this the famed Nenggwang Sword? I’m not sure, but this is fortunate.’

Contrary to rumors, the Danchun Master hadn’t surpassed the pinnacle. He was at the peak, lacking the opportunity to advance.

If a suitable opponent appeared, he could clash swords for days and nights to reach the next level, but no one challenged him.

And to the Danchun Master, the old man before him seemed to have surpassed the pinnacle.

If he could defeat someone who had already surpassed the barrier and gain enlightenment, surpassing the pinnacle would be inevitable.

Moreover, unlike other masters, this old man was in poor condition. Mentally unstable and physically on the brink of collapse. Even in a life-and-death duel, he didn’t seem likely to lose.

The Danchun Master grinned broadly.

‘An incredible opportunity has come.’

He had been troubled by the gap between rumors and his actual skill. The Danchun Master drew his sword with satisfaction.

Of course, he didn’t let his guard down just because his opponent seemed mad.

‘If this old man is the Nenggwang Sword, that’s good. Swift swords are easier to handle.’

The Danchun Master believed that swift swords were a desperate breakthrough for those with shallow understanding.

Illusionary swords, transforming swords, and even heavy swords required deep insight.

The essence of swordsmanship lay in the ability to block an opponent’s move while gaining the upper hand through insight and strategic play.

But those who wielded swift swords didn’t understand strategic play. They simply swung their swords quickly, hoping their opponent couldn’t respond.

The Danchun Master had killed countless pretenders who boasted of their swift swords.

‘I’m not sure if it’s the Nenggwang Sword. It could be a transforming or illusionary sword.’

But the Danchun Master’s worries vanished in an instant.

Yoo Kwan-il aimed his sword at the Danchun Master, pulling his right arm back as if drawing a bow.

It was a stance he’d never seen before, but the attack that would follow was obvious.

In a position where neither defense nor a slash was possible, only a thrust could follow.

‘The direction is clear as day.’

The Danchun Master carefully observed the direction of Yoo Kwan-il’s sword tip, elbow, and shoulder. It was clear where the sword would thrust.

Moreover, the sword’s condition was terrible. The blade was chipped and jagged like a saw.

At this point, the threat wasn’t the sword strike itself but the possibility of the sword breaking and sending shards flying.

The Danchun Master took a defensive stance, slowly moving two steps toward Yoo Kwan-il.

And then, Yoo Kwan-il’s shoulder twitched slightly, and his sword shot forward.

Exactly as predicted. The expected path. But the speed exceeded all expectations and imagination.

‘It’s fast. But it’s fine.’

The Danchun Master’s sword was already blocking the path of Yoo Kwan-il’s sword.

As Yoo Kwan-il’s sword tip met the Danchun Master’s blade, the Danchun Master poured immense internal energy into his arm, hand, and sword to hold it firm.

But Yoo Kwan-il’s worn sword tip didn’t bounce off the Danchun Master’s blade.

Instead, it smoothly pierced the side of the Danchun Master’s renowned sword. The Danchun Master’s sword didn’t break or shatter. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Then, the Danchun Master felt an alien sensation in his chest.

Looking down, he saw Yoo Kwan-il’s sword deeply embedded in his chest, then slowly withdrawing. The Danchun Master collapsed, motionless.

With a single move, the Danchun Master’s heart was pierced, and the eyes of the Black Dragon Gate disciples filled with shock.

“Impossible!”

Without waiting for orders, the Black Dragon Gate disciples fled in the opposite direction of Yoo Kwan-il. Ignoring the intact gate, they all scrambled over the walls to escape.

Yu Gwan-il paid no mind to the fleeing figures around him. Instead, he rummaged through the belongings of the fallen Dancheon Master, pocketing anything of value. With the air of someone who had merely taken a leisurely stroll, he resumed his journey southward.

Yoo Jin-gwang, meanwhile, was desperately committing to memory the sword technique Yu Gwan-il had just demonstrated.

“Hu-ye Sa-il.”

The move Yu Gwan-il had shown was unmistakably the final technique of the Sa-il Sword Art, known as Hu-ye Sa-il.

Among all the martial arts of the Jeomchang Sect, this was the most powerful yet notoriously unstable technique. Attempting it without mastery was a surefire way to meet one’s end. Few had ever learned it, and many of the previous generation’s Jeomchang warriors had perished trying, rendering the technique nearly extinct. This was the first time Yoo Jin-gwang had seen it in action; until now, he had only read about it in secret manuals.

Yoo Jin-gwang understood why Yu Gwan-il had asked him to follow.

Yu Gwan-il had inherited the debts of the Jeomchang Sect, but he realized too late that his decision might create new ones.

He had failed in his duties as a sect leader, thus owing a debt to the sect, and he had failed as a father, thus owing a debt to his son.

This was Yu Gwan-il’s way of repaying those debts.

He couldn’t explain the path he had walked, but he could show it.

He could demonstrate the process of surpassing the ultimate barrier, the insights gained over decades, to his son.

Even if his mind was lost, his body still remembered the martial arts of the Jeomchang Sect, and he could pass that on to his son.

As Yoo Jin-gwang pondered his father’s intentions, Hong Geol-gae whispered to Namgung Myung behind him.

“You seem unusually focused. You’re not thinking of stealing that technique, are you?”

It was half a joke. He couldn’t imagine Namgung Myung, of all people, doing something so dishonorable.

But Namgung Myung’s thoughts were slightly different.

“Do you think I wanted to watch? I had to, in case something happened.”

“Are you serious?”

Hong Geol-gae looked at Namgung Myung with disdain, to which Namgung Myung awkwardly replied.

“I saw it by accident, but as long as I don’t use it, it’s fine, right? Besides, you can’t just copy a technique like that after seeing it once.”

“Namgung Myung, you’re a real piece of work…”

“What are you talking about? You were watching just as intently. So were Tang Moo-jin and Hyun Gong. Why single me out?”

As Namgung Myung pointed out, Tang Moo-jin and his group had also watched Yu Gwan-il’s martial arts closely.

Opportunities to witness the insights of a supreme master were rare and invaluable. All four were young martial artists, and this experience might one day serve as a stepping stone to greater heights.

Yoo Jin-gwang felt uneasy about outsiders witnessing the Jeomchang Sect’s martial arts, but he didn’t confront Tang Moo-jin’s group about it.

He waved a hand to calm Hong Geol-gae.

“Don’t worry too much. As Namgung said, it’s not a technique you can replicate just by watching. As long as they don’t go around blabbing, it’s fine.”

With Yoo Jin-gwang’s permission, Namgung Myung’s demeanor grew more confident.

However, Yoo Jin-gwang was unaware that he had underestimated Namgung Myung’s keen eye.

Yu Gwan-il’s journey was just beginning.

As he headed south, a crowd gathered. Rumors spread like wildfire that a disheveled giant had killed the Dancheon Master of the Black Dragon Sect.

Some came to see the giant from the north.

Others wanted to claim the names of the giant and the Dancheon Master for themselves.

Some simply wanted to test their strength against a formidable opponent.

There were many spectators, and many challengers met their end. Even more died trying to exchange a few words.

Despite his staggering gait, Yu Gwan-il killed anyone who approached him and habitually collected their valuables.

Most of the techniques Yu Gwan-il displayed were ones Yoo Jin-gwang had not learned or were beyond his understanding. Yoo Jin-gwang followed, observing his father’s every move.

After some time, Yu Gwan-il arrived at a wall in the middle of a vast plain.

By then, the crowd of spectators and challengers had vanished.

As Yu Gwan-il struggled to maintain his composure in front of the entrance to the Gongdong Sect, he looked up.

Through his blurred vision, he saw two figures. One was Mu-ryangja, the head of the Gongdong Sect, and the other was a mysterious young woman.

Mu-ryangja spoke.

“It’s been a long time, Flashing Sword.”