Chapter 127 Nameless (1)

Chapter 127 Nameless (1)

At the news of Jin Muwol’s death, Nameless’s lips twitched briefly.

“…Dead?”

“Yes.”

Even after Mantongzi repeated it, Muming showed no sign of hiding his despondency.

Gu Yangjie’s eyebrows twitched.

‘Could he have been close friends with Jin Muwol? No, from what I heard, they were only acquaintances who met once…’

If they had been friends, he would have at least remembered the name clearly.

But for some reason, Mumeong hadn’t.

Moreover, the emotion he’d just shown was clearly anger and irritation. Had the answer been delayed even slightly longer, he would have attacked him.

Guyangjeok asked cautiously.

“Do you know anything about him?”

What kind of past could there be that even someone like Mumeong couldn’t bring himself to speak of it!

Before they knew it, even Mantongja was waiting for his answer.

The silence didn’t last long.

“No, I don’t.”

“……?”

When Gu Yangjeok shot him a look of utter bewilderment, Mumeong gave a small chuckle.

“It must sound absurd. Me, shouting like that, and then saying I don’t know anything about him.”

“That’s obvious…”

“But you, too, seemed to know Jin Muwol.”

Gu Yangji didn’t respond to that remark.

But Muming seemed satisfied with that, and began speaking.

“It wasn’t a very pleasant first meeting. Above all, the time we spent together was extremely brief. It wasn’t even a full day.”

Muming’s expression as he said this had grown cold and subdued.

The rivalry and anger he’d shown Jin Muwol just moments before had vanished without a trace.

The atmosphere was markedly different from the Mu-myeong he had seen until now.

Mu-myeong spoke in a self-deprecating tone.

“I had been waiting all along. For the moment we would meet again to settle our rivalry, to determine the superiority of our martial arts. Knowing that when that moment came, one of us would die, I took in a youngster and taught him the martial arts of Cheonmubong, hoping that day would come.”

The brat must refer to Wei Jinchuan.

While Gu Yangji silently pondered, Mumeong continued speaking.

“I was glad. In this wretched life of lifelong seclusion, that Jin Muwol was a ray of light. He was like a true friend who remembered where I lived.”

Though they met as enemies, when they parted, they were like close friends.

Wuming briefly recounted his encounter with Jin Muwol.

Yet the emotion contained within was profoundly poignant, a stark departure from his usual self.

Wuming, who called himself a recluse trapped here, now seemed no different from the countless wandering martial artists of the world.

His eyes were filled with sorrow.

“Look. Who will ever reach the summit of this Wuling Garden? And what are the odds that person would be a master comparable to me?”

“……”

“You too are a formidable warrior. Considering your youth, if just fifteen years pass, you will surely earn the epithets ‘Emperor’ or ‘God’. But before that, my fate will have run its course.”

Mumyeong’s body trembled slightly.

“That lack of love terrifies me. I, who grew up nameless, nourished by battle and struggle, am trapped here. The thought that no one will remember me, this warrior, terrifies me.”

“Mumyeong…”

For a moment, he seemed to have aged thirty years.

At Gu Yangji’s call, Mumyeong smiled bitterly.

It was no light matter.

“Well, what can you do? You can’t cling to a dead man and pine for him. That bastard, with all that strength, ended up dead. It’s utterly pathetic.”

“……”

“Hey, kid. You’re going to take it lying down when I call a figure like Sajo a bastard?”

Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

“Master!”

“Damn fool, do you think I’m about to die?”

Wuming muttered, almost grumbling.

Yet, in his own way, deep affection resonated in his voice.

“I will not die until I have passed on all my martial arts and inner strength to you. I, Wuming, the First Fist of Ancient and Modern Times, who upholds the history of Tianwufeng, promise it! “

How arrogant!

But Gu Yangjie did not take this lightly.

Among all the martial artists he had seen thus far, if Jin Muwol had reached the realm of a superhuman, then Wu Ming had also reached a realm close to his.

One-Handed Thunderbolt.

One strike, and thunder crashes down.

One Punch, Heaven Shakes.

One strike, and the heavens roar.

Had Wu Ming not been bound to Tianwufeng, roaming the martial world freely, the fame of the Divine Fist would surely have been split in two.

The World’s Greatest Fist and the World’s Greatest Madman!

Gu Yangji, sensing Wu Ming would challenge him, looked at Man Tongzi.

He had so many questions.

What connection existed between the Eight Palms and the Heavenly Martial Peak? Why had he saved Wuming?

Finally, by the time of the True Martial Moon, Gu Yangji was parched for the truth. For someone who had never possessed deep patience, his thirst had risen to the tip of his chin.

In the past, he would have left Wuming behind and grabbed Mantongzi by the collar.

But at least not now.

“……”

With only his gaze, Gu Yangjeok questioned Mantongja.

It was a look deeper than a hundred words. It was also a rebuke that pierced deeper into the ear than any shout.

After a moment, Mantongja bowed his head. Then, kneeling on both knees, he looked up at Myeongmyeong and Gu Yangjeok.

-Release Myeongmyeong’s grievance.

-Why should I?

-Because only then will the auxiliary star left by Cheon-dun not scatter.

And also, as a friend.

Man Tong-ja did not add this last part, but Gu Yang-jeok understood with his eyes.

As a warrior, he understood Moo-myeong.

Swish!

The drawn sword severed countless stray thoughts. Even the mist enveloping Gu Yang-jeok was cleaved cleanly in two.

Between Myeong and Gu Yang-jeok.

Within the mere five-step space, their energies intertwined and surged like a dragon.

The mist that had filled the summit had long since vanished.

The profound, pure inner strength of the Heavenly Dullness Heart-Shattering Technique clashed with the all-encompassing, one-with-all inner strength of the Selfless Heart Technique.

There, the fiery energy flowing from the Diamond Fist Iron Armor warmed Gu Yangjie’s body.

Mumyeong’s lips curved into a smile.

“I see. You resemble him.”

“…Who are you referring to?”

“Seoknyeon’s Jinmuyeol, that man.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Mumeong bent his knee.

Thud!

His colossal internal energy slammed into the ground, leaving deep footprints.

Yet Mumeong’s knee was light enough to bear a thousand jin of weight, brimming with elasticity.

Nameless’s figure vanished in an instant. His form resembled a cannonball.

“……Hmph!”

Facing the gust of wind blowing from ahead, Gu Yangji frowned. His breath suddenly felt constricted.

Could that truly be achieved by human martial arts?

Gu Yangji shook his head sideways.

If his guess was correct, that wasn’t human martial arts.

‘It’s the Taoist secret technique left behind to defeat the ancient demon, Palma.’

How could one dismiss that as merely human?

The martial arts of the sect, inherited and developed over hundreds of years, truly deserved the name divine skill.

Gu Yangji drew his sword, Chanhyeon, and grinned.

“Come!”

Kwaaang!

When Wuming struck the blade of the Zhanxian, Gu Yangji felt a stinging pain in his wrist as if it might snap. The power he wielded was comparable to that of a black dragon.

In other words, it was half the power inherent to a black dragon.

He had reached the realm of demonic beasts with a human body.

Gu Yangji no longer considered Wuming a martial artist connected to Jin Wuyue.

‘He is simply an enemy I must defeat, an adversary I must overcome!’

Gu Yangjie’s gaze gradually settled, becoming serene.

The eyes, now operating at full capacity, slowly tracked the movements of the nameless warrior, who left only a faint afterimage.

Without this, he could never have defeated the nameless warrior.

The Black Dragon had been right.

If a demon was born strong, martial arts are the desperate scheming of the weak against the strong.

Humans hammer iron dozens, hundreds of times to forge weapons.

What is it about martial arts, trained for years, decades, that prevents one from escaping their inherent limitations?

For a moment, Gu Yangjie deeply respected Mumeong, and pitied him just as much.

Cheon Mubong did not pursue that process naturally; he sought it in restraint.

A powerful warrior who yearned for Jin Muwol, whom he considered his lifelong rival? What a farce.

‘Though I have not yet reached a realm comparable to the late Grandmaster Jin…’

I can still hold my own.

Gu Yangji’s sword, holding the Zhenxian, advanced, tracing an uncanny line.

To counter the stubborn power held by Wuming, he chose transformation and softness.

Though the Huashan Sect was renowned for its sharp, swift swords, they too had many strategies to defeat the strong.

Ka-gang, ka-ga-gang!

The Zhanxian sword relentlessly scraped at Muming’s protective qi. Meanwhile, Gu Yangjie moved backward, occasionally sideways, executing an intricate footwork pattern.

The Moon-Treading Shadowless Step, renowned for its blinding speed that left no trace, and the Plum Blossom Step, a classic martial art of the Dao Sect.

The two techniques blended, mutually reinforcing each other, occasionally surging forward with explosive speed.

The summit of Wulingyuan was less than half the size of a small-to-medium martial artist’s backyard.

Yet, Gu Yangji’s footwork pressed Muming close, seemingly distant yet ever-present, enveloping Muming’s linear attacks.

Just as the watching Wei Jinchuan gritted his teeth, Muming’s lips parted slightly.

“Thunderclap Shattering the Heavens!”

Thud!

Wu Ming’s right foot stamped down with such force it seemed poised to pierce through the floor of Wulingyuan. Simultaneously, his right fist shot straight out.

The issue wasn’t merely the punch itself, but the pure energy contained within, twisted into the form of a palm strike.

Even the mist itself was swept up in the air currents, blurring Nameless’s form.

“…Guh!”

Faced with the profound and unfathomable subtlety of the fist technique, too deep even for Zhen Hui’an to glimpse, Gu Yangjie bit his lip hard.

How much martial study must one undertake to solidify a wind blast of that caliber!

It was a realm unattainable by mere internal energy cultivation alone.

That single strike seemed to reveal the entire life path the nameless one had walked thus far.

A fleeting glimpse of the nameless one’s back, walking the perilous path of the world with a smirk, appeared.

Should he counter it, or let it pass?

Gu Yangjie was horrified by the Wall-Shattering Thunder Palm closing in before his eyes. But he soon grinned.

“I have my own formidable first strike too!”

Though he possessed neither Mumei’s history nor Cheonmubong’s martial prowess, Gu Yangjeok clearly had something equally formidable.

Gu Yangjeok gripped his sword with both hands, his resolve fierce enough to split the Thunderclap Heavenly Strike in two.

His stance widened slightly beyond shoulder width, his tense shoulders relaxing into a loose, loose posture.

Then he recalled the final move that had dealt the Black Dragon its decisive blow.

The perfect union of the Heavenly Dull Sword Technique and the Plum Blossom Sword!

Though he hadn’t yet named it, he felt he understood what that realm of mastery entailed.

Following that path, he was certain he could even defeat Palma.

Gu Yangji hoped Mumei would see this and be satisfied.

The sword slashed from right to left, long and decisive.

“……!”

Seeing this, Mantongzi leapt to his feet, eyes wide.

It was an act of sheer arrogance.

‘To meet it head-on without evading?! No, does Wuming not even intend to withdraw his martial arts?!”

Before anyone could intervene, Gu Yangji’s sword had already passed.

The Wall-Shattering Heavenly Strike Wuming unleashed pierced Gu Yangji effortlessly, moving as if it would tear his body to shreds without leaving a trace.

Kwaaah-!

A whirlwind engulfed Gu Yangji.

“…Good heavens.”

Just as Mantongzi collapsed where he stood, gazing skyward as if cursing the heavens.

Click.

The sound of the sword returning to its scabbard echoed. Immediately after, the whirlwind dispersed, mingling with the mist.

As Gu Yangji stood there, his bold demeanor unchanged, Muming broke into a broad smile.

“Wahaha, wahahahaha!”

A single tear rolled down the cheek of the laughing Nameless.