Chapter 75 Ouyou (1)

Chapter 75 Ouyou (1)

The fragrance of plum blossoms is never sold.

At those words, Baek Dan-hyeon was overcome by an unstoppable emotion.

What were plum blossoms?

It was the emblem and pride of the Huashan Sect. That was why countless individuals had attached plum blossoms to their aliases.

“The fragrance… is not for sale.”

Bai Danxian murmured in a self-mocking voice.

Bu Mai Xiang. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard the phrase.

After all, one of the Two Great Dharma Protectors, Bai Shangjinren, also known as Zheng Zhongshan, bore the alias Bu Mai Xiang.

“……”

Jin Muwol’s eyes closed tightly. Baek Dan-hyeon likewise recalled the past.

The reason he came to be called Bulmaehyang.

It happened during the time when the old Demon Sect, the Holy Fire Sect, was stirring up trouble.

When the righteous faction alliance, the precursor to the Martial Alliance, was preparing for its final battle and gathering its strength.

“Trust only me and retreat.”

There was a Taoist who spoke these words.

Of course, not all of the righteous faction alliance trusted him. It wasn’t particularly for political reasons.

His fellow disciples from the Huashan Sect had suffered losses nearly halving their numbers, and the Taoist himself was not in good condition.

Even the Taoist from the Moshan Sect shook his head.

“If you fight one more time, you’ll have to completely sever your arm.”

Despite those words, the Taoist gripped his sword with his blue-tinged arm.

That was his pride, his justice.

His senior Taoist tried to dissuade him from what anyone could see was a reckless endeavor.

“It’s impossible. You’re already a patient!”

“Go. I’ll buy you time.”

But he remained unshakable.

The Taoist waited alone for the Holy Fire Sect. Above all, his sharp resolve rendered further persuasion meaningless.

Therefore, the righteous faction alliance withdrew their full force, leaving only the Taoist behind.

Three days passed.

The entire righteous faction alliance sensed the Taoist’s impending death.

But…

The Taoist rejoined the righteous faction alliance, moving almost as if crawling. His wounds were so severe that it was doubtful he could ever function as a human again, let alone move freely.

Half his liver was sliced open, and his torn lungs were stitched together. The physician who treated the Taoist warned his fellow disciples to prepare for grief.

It was a cruel thing to say, but it couldn’t be helped.

Ten days passed as he lay stricken.

Miraculously, the Taoist rose from his sickbed. Though his body was too weak to wield a sword, his spirit was undiminished.

“I alone held back the demons for three days. Now my body requires a year of rest.”

Master Zheng Zhongshan stood upon the podium of the Righteous Sect Alliance and proclaimed.

“But though my flesh was torn and my soul howled, I did not sell the fragrance of the plum blossom! In this grand world of Zhonghua, we cannot allow demons to sprout in the martial world…!”

That declaration (good words) caused the Righteous Sect Alliance to grow even larger.

Wandering ronin who roamed the martial world, and even some of the heretical sects who had scoffed at it as pointless, joined the alliance.

It could no longer be called the ‘Righteous Sect Alliance’. So, just before the final battle, its name was changed.

The Martial Blood Alliance.

They, who became the foundation of the Martial Alliance, went so far as to bestow upon Zheng Zhongshan a title imbued with the highest respect.

That title was: Immortal Fragrance.

It was the time when the Huashan Sect left a great mark in the annals of the martial world. Unlike now, it was an era where they commanded the respect of all.

But what of the present?

“…You speak well.”

Jin Wuyue let out an enigmatic laugh. His expression suggested slight surprise, as if he hadn’t quite expected that answer.

After a moment, Jin Muwol raised a branch.

“Bulmaehyang… I’d like to see for myself if you have the skill to even utter that name.”

At that moment, Baek Danhyun sensed something and shot his hand out.

“Grandmaster!”

But it was already too late.

Swoosh.

An artificial wind arose. It felt like a taut bowstring suddenly releasing.

Kang!

A sound rang out, and wind pressure surged forward. Gu Yangjeok’s cheeks flushed crimson.

Soon, his skin burned. Blood and bruises splattered here and there.

And it was merely a clash with a wooden sword.

Gu Yangjie gritted his teeth and endured. A mere wooden club was pushing back against the True Spirit.

And that was without even any internal energy being channeled into it.

Just as Gu Yangjie was debating whether to infuse his inner strength into the Vajra Fist Armor, Jin Muwol twitched his lips.

“More.”

Jin Muwol spoke in a cold voice.

“What if you press him harder?”

“…Guh.”

As Jin Muwol pressed forward relentlessly, Gu Yangjeok let out a faint groan.

Fast. Above all, sharp.

The swordsmanship he displayed focused purely on the fundamentals.

Thrusts. And cuts.

Basic movements, the sort one begins learning as a short, young boy, were now pressuring Gu Yangjeok.

He had thought Yu Jangmyeong possessed tremendous swordsmanship too, but compared to Jin Muwol, it was but a drop in the bucket.

At the very least, he would need to bring the future Yu Jangmyeong to even consider facing him as an opponent.

Clang!

Jin Muwol, who had easily parried the thrust, twisted one side of his lips.

“Don’t hold back. Bring it out. Aren’t you being presumptuous?”

Jin Muwol stepped forward, the corners of his eyes tilting like a crescent moon.

The eyes couldn’t follow the movement. Only a vague sensation that someone had brushed past remained.

Jin Muwol let out a small, mocking laugh.

“Where do you think you’re hiding your cards from me, young disciple?”

A flash of light streaked past. A black line was drawn over it. The smell of earth stung his nose.

‘Can he really swing a tree branch at this speed? It can’t possibly be that hard, can it?’

Gu Yangjie forced down the fleeting doubt. The incoming attack was far too fierce to risk distraction.

Zuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu

Demon-Shattering. A power that erases energy derived from demonic arts, transforming the user’s inner strength into propulsive force.

Seeing this, Jin Muwol’s eyes flashed with surprise.

He never imagined such a treasure could be wielded by a young disciple.

But the clash was imminent.

The question could be resolved later. With that, Jin Muwol also suppressed his doubts.

The blades of the two Taoists clashed.

Kaang-!

The sword let out a long, wailing cry. As if lamenting its inability to cut even a mere twig, the prolonged wail of the sword name tormented Jin Muwol deeply.

Simultaneously, Jin Muwol and Gu Yangjeok stepped back half a step.

“……!”

“……!”

Each recognized the other’s strength, letting out a subtle smile. But Gu Yangjeok alone could not afford to be at ease.

Wasn’t Jin Muwol still facing him without using a single grain of his inner strength?

‘What kind of monster is this…….’

Gu Yangjie forced a grim smile.

He tightened his grip on the sword hilt slipping from his sweat-drenched hands.

‘A little faster.’

Gu Yangjie’s movements accelerated. The incantation of the Extreme Light Incense Burner, realized after days of observing the Divine Demon Fist, instantly propelled him into another realm.

Crack! Kagagang!

The lightning that shot up in an instant swallowed Jin Muwol’s branches and invaded his arms.

At the same moment, Gu Yangjeok’s knees bent.

Crunch.

Even though it was merely preparation before lunging forward, the earth beneath his feet was pushed back. The seeds of weeds growing deep within turned black and died.

“…Huh.”

Jin Muwol watched this and let out a small sigh. It was a sigh born of admiration and pure delight.

‘Did the Huashan School ever have such a domineering footwork? How…’

Pang!

In Jin Muwol’s vision, Gu Yangji closed the distance to within striking range in a single bound.

It felt as if the world had stopped and then started flowing again, it was that fast.

Yet, Jin Muwol’s expression remained utterly composed.

‘…Is this martial art even beautiful?’

Lightning scattered before his eyes. It was as if the thunderbolt had deliberately struck Jin Muwol.

By this point, Gu Yangji had expended half his internal energy.

Of course, he could have unleashed the Divine Body Martial Arts or the Heavenly Dune Sword Technique he learned in his previous life. There was no reason to forcefully deploy the martial arts of the Divine Demon Fist.

But he judged it would be difficult to convince him afterward.

In such cases, Gu Yangji’s intuition was usually spot-on.

Sure enough, Jin Muwol wore a satisfied smile.

“Is this the martial arts of the child who entered the sect a few days ago? Quite sharp. But that’s as far as it goes.”

As expected, he was trying to fight more.

Just as Gu Yangji steeled his resolve and raised his sword straight up.

Jin Muwol lowered the momentum he had been using to pressure Gu Yangji. Instead, he pulled something from his waist and tossed it.

“Here, take this.”

“……?”

“It seems… you possess martial arts with a similar energy to that of the child who joined recently. Taking this will be beneficial.”

“What is this, and why?”

“Even now, but especially in the past, there were many martial artists who passed down their skills to a single disciple, like the Divine Demon Fist or the Peerless Blade. I received this from them back then.”

Jin Muwol smiled faintly.

“It’s called the Thunder Spirit Pill. Do you know it?”

At those words, Gu Yangji shook his head lightly.

His connection with the previous generation’s Divine Demon Fist had ultimately been merely sharing a single martial art; he didn’t know the detailed circumstances.

“Thank you.”

As Gu Yangji expressed his gratitude and accepted the Thunder Spirit Pill, Jin Muwol looked at Bai Danxian and instructed.

“Did you see?”

“…Yes.”

“That spirit that doesn’t back down even against me—doesn’t he possess the skill to stand against a sword form that no one has ever defeated?”

As the conversation seemed to be winding down, Gu Yangji quietly asked Jin Muwol.

“Grandmaster, I have one request.”

“Hmm? Speak.”

“Might you also bestow your teachings upon my senior brother?”

At those words, Baek Dan-hyeon shook his head desperately.

It wasn’t just Jin Mu-wol’s temperament; the celestial being guarding Plum Blossom Valley absolutely must never leave his post.

But Jin Mu-wol didn’t seem to think so.

“Once every ten days! If Jo Hun comes here.”

“What about Brother Yu?”

Jin Muwol fell silent for a moment at Gu Yangji’s question.

Then, suddenly realizing he hadn’t answered, he added.

“That child won’t need my teaching.”

He gave no reason.

* * *

The next day.

Having finished his preparations, Gu Yangji turned onto the path leading down from Huashan.

As he did, he waved his hand lightly.

“I’ll be off now.”

Most of the gazes fixed on Gu Yangji were uneasy.

How long had it been since the battle with the Black Dragon Sect? And now, the Martial Alliance?

Only Zhao Hun and Qingfeng, unaware of the details, grinned sheepishly.

Seeing this, Gu Yangjie suppressed a chuckle.

“You’ve gained quite a bit of weight.”

The Golden Ring Society had worked so hard that his once emaciated frame finally looked human again.

At last, he was free from a heavy burden.

No need to worry, he was doing well. That much leeway had been created for Huashan.

‘Still, there’s a long way to go.’

Even so, Gu Yangji maintained his drive for improvement, guarding against complacency.

For now, he had merely eliminated threats through his own skill.

The goal was self-reliance.

Huashan without Gu Yangji should still be worthy of being called the strongest sect (一門). Only then could he seize hegemony in the future.

Hegemony meant survival.

He would rebuild Huashan into the greatest and strongest sect in history, one the Martial Alliance itself could not ignore.

Gu Yangjie adjusted the bundle strapped to his shoulder and muttered to himself.

“Maybe I’ll go see that beggar again after all this time.”

He was troubled by the lack of news since the incident with the Divine Demon Fist.