Chapter 16 Transformation (1)

Chapter 16 Transformation (1)

The Guest Hall was bustling with young Taoists.

This was highly unusual.

Once Taoists reached adulthood, they typically either descended the mountain to pursue goals unfulfilled during their training or secluded themselves to hone their sword techniques.

Of course, not all followed this path; occasionally, unique types like Gu Yangji or Song Mu emerged.

But even those were few and far between.

Most maintained their Taoist nature and devoted their entire lives to honing their swordsmanship.

Even these young Taoists, barely past twenty, were similar to the older masters, save for being a bit more restless.

The fact that they had gathered in one place essentially signified one thing.

The one who had the support of the majority of the Taoists.

It meant the man destined to become the next leader of the Huashan Sect had returned.

Thump, thump.

The moment the man with striking jet-black hair stepped into the Huashan Sect.

“We greet the Senior Brother!”

“We greet Master Sabaek!”

A thunderous roar erupted from the young Taoists.

Some bowed deeply, bowing their heads low toward the man.

Yet the man showed little excitement toward the young disciples.

Instead, he asked with a hint of disappointment.

“While I was away, was there any progress?”

“Of course!”

“Really?”

The man looked at the disciple who had answered loudly from the front.

“Then can you show me?”

“……! How could I dare.”

“I won’t say it twice.”

Draw it.

The man’s intense gaze relentlessly tormented the monk.

A force so powerful it made resistance impossible without drawing the sword pierced the monk’s entire body.

‘Gulp, he really is Master Sabak.’

The monk drew his sword, cold sweat pouring down his back. But the man’s interest dropped away instantly.

“Ikhyeon.”

“…Yes, Lord Sabak.”

“You’re no different than a year ago. You should have focused on your training instead of coming to see me.”

The man was the type who pursued a direct approach, even if it meant being called rigid, rather than relying on the smoothness of a Yujangmyeong.

To him, Ik-hyeon’s current state was nothing short of disappointing.

“You may go now.”

“Yes.”

Ik-hyeon turned his back, his head drooping limply, and began to walk away. The man watched him silently before uttering one final sentence.

“Stay strong.”

A hint of warmth crept into the man’s voice, which had always felt dry and emotionless.

“You have talent.”

At those words, Ik-hyun’s shoulders flinched.

‘Is he praising me?’

But the man wasn’t finished.

“So strive diligently. Believe in yourself, and don’t overestimate your opponent. Even if it’s me, the confidence to win unconditionally is what matters.”

“……Understood!”

Eok-hyeon vanished into the thicket after his spirited reply, and the man scanned the remaining disciples.

“I suppose I should see if you’ve truly made progress as well?”

“……Of course.”

Gulp.

The young disciples swallowed hard, their tense gazes fixed on the man.

From the moment they resolved to learn sword techniques rather than Daoist scriptures at Huashan, from the instant they embroidered the plum blossom emblem onto their robes, Huashan disciples bore the duty to grow stronger.

Among them, the pinnacle was reserved solely for the senior disciple.

Only Ha Jin’ak, recognized by the Sect Leader and Plum Blossom Cave, held that position.

“Draw. And show me.”

Sssshhh…

The distinctive heat of the Heavenly Flow Fire Cloud Sword began to gather at the tip of Ha Jin-ak’s blade.

Watching this, the young disciples realized anew.

Just as there were standouts among the late-stage cultivators, like Gu Yang-jeok or Yu Jang-myeong.

Even among disciples, there existed a Heaven Beyond Heaven, another sky beyond the sky.

Just as the young cultivators were overwhelmed by this realization, Ha Jin-ak harbored a different thought.

‘Seems the disciples rumored to be so formidable lately haven’t shown up.’

Particularly disappointed in Yu Jang-myeong, Ha Jin-ak’s brow furrowed.

He was displeased.

It was problematic that his disciple hadn’t stopped himself from harming civilians, and despite being pushed to participate in the Nine Dragons Grand Tournament, he hadn’t gone.

It was fortunate that Gu Yangji emerged victorious; had he not won, who knows how he would have handled the aftermath.

‘He might not even realize his own disciple is walking a dangerous path…!’

Not only had he caused trouble in Sangju, but now he’d returned defeated from the Nine Dragons Battle—a sin even Baek Dan-hyeon couldn’t overlook.

It was enough to make most elders rise up in protest.

If he truly cherished his disciple, he should have guided him more firmly toward the righteous path.

First, he would observe everyone’s martial prowess here.

‘I suppose I must meet him.’

He had heard much talk that the priest Gu Yangjeok had changed significantly.

But Ha Jinak intended to see for himself and judge.

‘…Has he grown a little?’

Did he still harbor inferiority among his exceptionally talented senior brothers?

A hint of pity stirred within him.

* * *

Meanwhile, Gu Yangji seriously pondered the tragic news he’d received last night.

‘Shanshui Yao was targeting me.’

What kind of carriage had he ridden in?

It was the carriage bearing the Jihyeon Gate’s wooden badge that had provoked the conflict.

The carriage from the Golden Ring Conference that Gu Yangji had ridden to attend the Nine Dragons Assembly had been left behind there.

Those who came from the Kenhyun Gate must have taken it.

And they died.

Gu Yangji reasoned based only on the facts that were clearly established.

‘It’s too much to dismiss as mere coincidence.’

The wrinkles on Gu Yangji’s forehead deepened.

Even if Shaanxi Yiye was consumed by vengeance for losing his brother, he himself was a disciple of the Huashan Sect.

Attempting something recklessly would invite disaster, and even if successful, the trail would be followed.

He didn’t believe they would act while bearing such a risk.

Fundamentally, they were the Dark Sect.

In Gu Yangjie’s eyes, both orthodox and heretical factions were martial artists, but the heretical faction was more instinct-driven.

‘If those bastards were normal, they wouldn’t have carved out their dantian vessels to become strong in such a short time.’

That’s why evil and demonic influences easily infiltrate the character of heretical martial artists.

Unless one was a master like the Great Heavenly Water, one inevitably developed a twisted character.

Gu Yangji was certain that behind the Shaanxi Three Evils stood a powerful backer.

Probably… they had killed Ha Jin’e.

Gu Yangji’s eyes flashed with intensity for a moment.

After provoking the Three Evils of Shaanxi, the unfolding events seemed to grow increasingly clear.

Yet he couldn’t easily reveal this truth to others.

He had to let future events proceed as they would to respond effectively.

For that reason, Gu Yangjie had intended to attend the gathering welcoming Ha Jin’ak, planning to travel outside Huashan with him.

‘I was going to do that…’

Gu Yangji looked at his seniors, who were staring at the sword as if they were sucking on it, with pity.

“Zhi’a, what’s the name of this sword?”

“It’s the Sword of Truth.”

“Huh, well now. How mysterious.”

Because a senior who looked to be around thirty showed great interest in the Sword of Truth, Gu Yangji couldn’t easily move forward.

At this rate, he wouldn’t get a chance to meet Ha Jin-ak.

‘I’d just brush them off if possible…’

The problem was that among that bearded crowd were Song Muk, the head of the Discipline Hall, and Gwak Un-pae, the head of the Guest Hall.

‘Of all the five Hall Masters, why did two of them have to tag along?’

The Law Enforcement Hall, the Guest Hall, the Discipline Hall, the Plum Blossom Hall. Finally, the Plum Blossom Hall where the Grand Master resided—five in total.

Each was an indispensable main building, and the elders in charge of them were also masters of the sword worthy of the title.

Gu Yangji, still merely a disciple, was no one to be taken lightly.

Then, suddenly, Gu Yangji remembered the presence of his senior brother, who had just arrived, and his body shuddered once with unease.

‘He hasn’t already noticed it, has he?’

“Hey there, Brother Gu Yang. What’s the name of the craftsman who made this?”

“The Iron Smith Supreme.”

“Iron Smith Supreme?”

At that retort, Gu Yangji realized his slip and quickly changed his words.

His reputation hadn’t yet reached that level.

“Well, what is it? I heard this person named Dao Tie goes around saying that.”

“Huh, even so, calling himself Supreme? He must be a very bold character.”

“Still, judging by his sword, he seems to have the skill to back it up, doesn’t he?”

Most of the Daoists nodded in agreement at Gu Yang-jeok’s words.

Especially Song Mok, whose eyes gleamed with envy as he kept stealing sideways glances at Gu Yang-jeok.

“…That sword truly makes one’s knees tremble.”

Song Mok, with an unusually serious expression, highly praised the sword’s value.

“Even an old pine tree soaked in water would be cut by that blade. If that isn’t a legendary sword, what is?”

“Seeing that makes me crave material things too, ha ha ha!”

Though it seemed like a hearty laugh, it was filled with greed for the sword.

Gu Yangjie’s gaze turned to the owner of the laughter.

His beard grew sparsely down to his neck, and his belly jutted out prominently, unlike the typical Hwasan Sect members who prided themselves on their swift swords.