Chapter 131 Forgotten Sword (1)

Chapter 131 Forgotten Sword (1)

The one who drew his sword first was suggesting a rest?

Gu Yangji wore an expression of utter bewilderment.

“Why should I?”

“Because if you don’t, you won’t get what you desire.”

“……”

As Gu Yangji waited silently with a sullen expression, a chuckle echoed.

“Well now, whoever you are, you’re quite the vulgar man. Did you hate the idea of not getting it that much?”

“Gu Yangji!”

“Did I ask?”

The man’s mocking demeanor was painfully obvious to Gu Yangji. But there was nothing he could do about it.

This was an arrangement left by Yeo Dong-bin himself, and if the other party was the master of this place, then to him, they would be a senior of unimaginable stature.

Gu Yangji uttered a hollow retort.

“The Sima School teaches that one must first reveal oneself to be respected!”

“Huh… So now you’re telling me to reveal my name too?”

Ha ha.

The man burst into hollow laughter and revealed his pseudonym.

“Yes, I am Wang Jian (Forgotten Sword).”

“And what might your sect or master be?”

At that, Wang Jian replied in an irritating tone.

“Don’t worry! At least I’m not from the Huashan Sect.”

“……”

Just as Gu Yangji wondered how he knew and pressed his lips tightly together, Mangjian spoke again.

“Is Mantongzi still the same?”

“He is.”

“Still a lone wolf, keeping everything secret… and treating even spiritual beasts like his own dogs? He hasn’t changed a bit. I never liked him.”

This time, it was Gu Yangji who burst out laughing.

It was hard to guess who this person was or what his background entailed, but clearly, he knew Mantongzi well.

Put another way, it meant Mangjian was powerful enough to address Mantongzi so casually.

‘But he wasn’t as weak as I expected?’

As Gu Yangji tilted his head, recalling the sensation he’d just felt, Manggeom toyed with his sword.

“Did I perhaps offend you?”

“……Huh?”

“Outside, they clearly said this was a place personally arranged by Lady Yeo. But when you actually handled the sword, didn’t you feel it was too light? That’s what I mean.”

At those words, Gu Yangji didn’t bother with excuses and quietly nodded.

“Honestly, yes.”

“Oh dear, I was hoping you might show a little modesty just this once.”

Manggeom rose from his seat, his expression clearly showing his embarrassment.

At that very moment, a shiver ran through Gu Yangji’s entire body.

It wasn’t quite the overwhelming pressure he’d felt from the Black Dragon.

Nor was it the dense, impenetrable aura of the Nameless One. Mang-geom clearly had many openings.

Yet, for some reason, Gu Yang-jeok found himself unable to move freely.

Whatever technique he tried to unleash felt blocked. That sensation troubled Gu Yang-jeok.

Then Mang-geom chuckled.

“You’re quick to catch on for a youngster.”

“……!”

“Why not forget all your worries today and just enjoy yourself?”

Swish…….

The blade in Manggeom’s grasp was, at most, a foot and a half long.

Within that length lay the universe Manggeom had spent his entire life building.

* * *

‘Damn it!’

Gu Yang-jeok was sweating buckets, parrying the sword Mang-geom swung at him.

The thick darkness inside the Sword Hall made it impossible to tell how much time had passed.

He swung, he blocked.

He counterattacked, he deflected.

He tried to overpower him with force, he dodged.

As if demonstrating every fundamental sword technique, Manggeom was facing him using only the bare minimum of internal energy.

The problem was, that sharpness and precision were astonishingly perfect.

Even the common phrase “skilled swordsman” felt like an ultimate understatement for Manggeom.

“You’re full of youthful vigor, aren’t you!”

Manggeom’s sword, which had been thrusting straight, instantly shifted to a diagonal, pressing Gu Yangjeok.

Like a snake snatching a bird in flight, it relentlessly targeted the space between his wrist and forearm, making Gu Yangjeok visibly irritated.

“Let’s fight properly!”

“An old man like me has no choice but to fight you this way. Understand, heh!”

Though seemingly respectful, every word was laced with mockery.

Gu Yangji knew well this was a feint to lure him into simplifying his sword path.

But no matter how calmly he tried to steady his mind, Manggeom’s fundamentals far surpassed his own.

‘Just to transcend internal energy and age with fundamentals alone, how much time and effort must one invest?’

Even his eyes were blind, leaving him completely devoid of one sense.

Yet Manggeom, who had reached such a realm despite this, was a swordsman worthy of respect.

Had they not met under these circumstances, Gu Yangjeok would have formally sought his teachings.

Then Manggeom spoke.

“Tired? Tsk.”

“No!”

Gyu Yangjeok clenched his teeth and immediately dropped to his knees.

He intended to fully exploit the fact that Manggeom was blind, and that his other senses had developed as a result.

‘If I had unleashed the martial arts of the Divine Demon Fist, I might have won easily…’

Could that truly be considered breaking through the Sword Demon Sect?

Gu Yangji shook his head slightly.

Resolving it that way would be tantamount to betraying the efforts of Mantongzi, who had guided him this far.

Above all, despite possessing the most fatal flaw among the swordsmen he had encountered thus far, Manggeom wielded the most formidable weapon.

‘Fundamentals.’

Gu Yangji’s gaze suddenly grew serious.

He had learned many martial arts techniques, but could he truly say he had mastered them all perfectly?

Gu Yangjie knew very well that he hadn’t.

Martial arts learned superficially, merely imitated, were not true martial arts.

Manggeom was demonstrating that.

Even simple, basic techniques, when honed to their ultimate limit, could become a blade.

“Sleeping?”

Thinking this, Manggeom’s taunts no longer bothered him.

Rather, they intrigued him.

Though lacking subtlety or depth, the sword that sharply severed the pulse and his sharp tongue were alike.

Stepping back once, Gu Yangjeok raised both hands toward Manggeom.

“I humbly accept your teaching!”

“Well now…”

Manggeom adjusted his previously relaxed stance and gradually began channeling his inner energy.

“Guess I can’t just play around with this guy.”

Inside the Jamsondong, heavy with darkness.

Manggeom and Guyangjeok moved, their blades clashing incessantly.

Byeon, Hwan, Gang.

When a swordsman unleashes techniques in rapid succession, they inevitably reveal certain habits.

Like tilting the wrist to the right when executing a turning strike, or applying more force to the thumb during a circling strike.

Thus, in prolonged life-or-death duels between swordsmen, victory usually went to the one who read the rhythm.

But these two were different.

They constantly mixed deception into their actions, occasionally transforming their techniques in utterly bizarre ways.

They would execute a technique meant for continuous strikes with such force that it fooled opponents predicting only the initial strike.

Neither Manggeom nor Guyangjeok asked how much time had passed.

They weren’t hungry or tired.

This was enough. They could raise their swords to clash and grin.

Within the palm, two to three and a half inches.

Within that space, the sword drawn traced infinite trajectories and transformations as it moved.

Then finally.

Change arrived.

Clang!

The Mang Sword, repelled by the power of the sword spirit, spat out black blood.

The Mang Sword’s cloudy eyes turned toward Gu Yangji.

‘You won’t see it.’

The darkness filling the sword’s aura could not be dispersed by any martial skill, nor could it be pierced through.

Even if Gu Yangji had learned a divine technique like the Heavenly Passage, he would not know he had suffered a fatal wound.

That was why the sword could smile faintly.

‘Even if this body shatters and flies apart, I must make him understand.’

The true essence of the Heavenly Dull Sword Technique lay not in its forms, but in the state of no-sword.

Only by forgetting the sword (忘劍) could one cut with the mind.

The Blind Sword stood motionless, gazing at Gu Yangji who waited for him.

“…Haah.”

A bitter taste escaped his mouth.

Even the vital energy sustaining his half-dead body was draining away. The blood that had been drying up instead of sweat had long since run dry.

‘How much longer can I hold on?’

Two days? One day?

No, perhaps just one hour.

As death gradually approached, Manggeom grew strangely composed.

‘I was dead from the start.’

That he, once merely a follower of the Zhenjin Sect, had endured for hundreds of years was ultimately due to Heaven’s favor.

He was grateful to Master Yeo Dong-bin, who had created the Sword of the Wind, and to the Taoists of Mosan… to all of them.

Above all, he was thankful to Gu Yang-jeok, the later Taoist who had learned the Heavenly Dull Sword Technique and come all this way.

His death was not meaningless.

The thought that his actions would allow Gu Yangjeok’s Heavenly Dull Sword Technique to transform like a butterfly made him laugh uncontrollably.

“Haha, hahahaha.”

“Amusing?”

“Amusing indeed, you bastard. How could it not be funny watching a young punk whimpering and unable to defeat an old man like me?”

Creak.

Even as he spoke, Mang-geom felt his joints creak.

It was a wound from a fight just three years ago, when those bastards from Palma’s henchmen swarmed in.

Then, Gu Yang-jeok’s voice reached him.

“So Man Tong-ja said it’s true? That you’ve killed everyone who entered here?”

“What if it is?”

“What could I possibly do? I just have a favor to ask.”

“…A favor?”

When Mang-geom tilted his head curiously, Gu Yang-jeok asked with a serious expression.

“Would you consider leaving here and seeking refuge with the Huashan Sect?”

“What?”

“I don’t know much about your background, but your martial arts skills are of a caliber rarely seen anywhere in the world. To be honest, if you were to seriously unleash your sword techniques, I wouldn’t have the confidence to block them.”

“Flattery won’t work…”

Manggeom chuckled softly.

“I sense not only the remnants of the Cheondun Sword Technique in you, but traces of other martial arts as well. If you were to unleash all of that without holding back, the situation might change, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I won’t deny it. But…”

“That’s enough. I am bound to this place.”

Gu Yangji persisted, asking again.

“Then would it be acceptable to send my four senior brothers here?”

“Hah, you’re quite greedy! How many more are you expecting this body to teach?”

“Wasn’t it precisely because it couldn’t be faced without that level of strength that it was called the Eight Palms?”

At those words, Manggeom clamped his mouth shut.

But Gu Yangji’s words continued.

“You may not know this, Senior, but the outside world is already practically under Palma’s control. Even the Ten Thousand Swords don’t know how far Palma’s reach extends. In such a situation, the only thing I can trust is my meager sword.”

“……”

A grave expression settled on Manggeom’s face.

Meanwhile, Guyangjeok murmured earnestly.

“So, if possible, I’d ask for your favor, Senior.”

“……You bastard.”

Manggeom let out a long sigh.

“Fine. I’ll allow it.”

“Really?”

If I could spar with someone like Manggeom, my skills would skyrocket!

Just as Guyangjeok rejoiced, Manggeom twisted one side of his lips.

“That is, if you can overpower me right now.”

“If that’s what you desire, senior… I suppose I’ll let you off the hook this once.”

“You bastard, your words flow like a mountain stream!”

At the sound of Manggeom stomping the ground, Gu Yangji immediately swung his sword.

Even in the pitch-black Sword Cave, his eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness over time, allowing him to sense his opponent without seeing.

“I’m coming!”

As Gu Yangji unleashed the opening move of the Flying Shadow Sword Technique, scattering sword energy, Manggeom activated his protective aura.

Since they had made a promise, he needed to protect himself as much as possible.

‘This guy’s senior brother… I’m quite looking forward to him.’

Manggeom smiled with his eyes.