Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Guide(指路)

Many faces flashed through Jeong-un's mind.

There weren't many people he could recall as the head of a sect, especially one who could be considered the leader of a great sect.

There was the unapproachable Monk Mu Jung, Heavenly Martial Hall's chief Zhang Mun-gi, and Mount Hua's elder Cheong Jin, as well as his own superior Yeom Baek.

'Is this guy like those people...?'

It was an absurd comparison.

No matter how much they say martial artists only truly know one another's strength when they cross blades, he never thought this man could withstand that incredible strike from the Shaolin abbot.

If he had to compare, perhaps he could put him next to Cheong Jin or Yeom Baek.

Judging by the impression of his ki.

Of course, even that meant he was an expert considered among the hundred top masters of Murim.

'Let's not jump to conclusions.'

As Jeong-un was thinking that, the man suddenly snapped.

"Did... Did you just call me 'merely'? Did you really call me 'merely'?"

"...?"

He wasn't trying to provoke him; it was just a matter-of-fact question.

Ironically, he was the type who didn't react to actual attempts at provocation.

"So you're saying I'm inferior to the leaders of your so-called 'orthodox faction'?"

"Have you ever faced someone of that caliber before?"

"......"

The man closed his mouth at the question.

'Guess not.'

Jeong-un inwardly let out a hollow laugh. Only then did several facts come to mind.

First, the Blood Cult was itself such a secretive group that even the Murim Alliance and the Heavenly Martial Hall had only heard of it a few months ago.

If this man was counted among their top experts, it made sense he might not have had the chance to clash with true masters yet.

With that in mind, Jeong-un could guess why he boasted so much about himself.

He must have been genuinely curious—just how high did he stand in this martial world?

Having built up so much internal power through rootless martial skills that thirsted for human blood, it wouldn't be surprising if he were itching for a challenge.

Above all, he was still a martial artist.

There must be an exhilaration in inhabiting a transformed body.

He would naturally be curious to know just how far his skills could take him.

It was much like Jeong-un had been moments ago.

Jeong-un lifted the corners of his mouth and spoke.

"Looks to me like you've never even seen a real expert before."

"What did you say?"

"Well, it makes sense. You're just a rat scurrying through filthy places, hiding from everyone's attention. There's no way you'd have a chance to stand before a martial expert who walks proudly in the light."

"... Nonsense."

For a moment, the man glared at Jeong-un with fierce, piercing eyes before breaking into a sardonic smile.

Jeong-un continued unfazed.

"I've seen those sect leaders with my own eyes."

"What?"

"I was just measuring you against them."

"Measuring...?"

"Would you like to know the result?"

"... You bastard!"

The man kicked off the ground and charged in a flash.

At that instant, the restrained waves of his ki burst forth explosively.

In a split second, a sinister force rippled out, distorting the air.

The energy was definitely tremendous.

Even the grass swayed in waves from its shockwave.

"How dare you try to ridicule me!"

The man's figure suddenly filled Jeong-un's vision, expanding as if he were much closer in an instant.

His right hand was cocked back, clawed like a hook.

Once again, it was the same. The flow of true ki stretched clearly from his waist to his fingertips.

Such an acute sensitivity, to the point of sensing even another's true ki, was a skill even Jeong-un couldn't quite believe he possessed.

Jeong-un softly extended his left hand.

Before the sleeve even fluttered, he reached nearly close enough to touch the man's swinging right hand.

"...."

At that moment, Jeong-un noticed the man's lips twist in a mocking smirk.

He seemed to be scoffing, seeing Jeong-un respond with fist-and-palm arts rather than his sword.

The moment their ki-laced hands clashed—

Whoosh.

Jeong-un twisted his wrist and spun his arm.

The true ki wrapped around his forearm spun as well, creating a whirlwind of ki, and that spin mysteriously swept over the opponent's energy.

At the same time, Jeong-un's hand curled like a snake.

"What the—!"

Had the man been bracing for the shock of clashing hands?

In this unexpected situation, he cried out, eyes wide open in disbelief at what was unfolding.

His wrist had been seized by his opponent. This was a completely unbelievable use of grapling technique.

Whoosh!

He writhed and shook his caught wrist violently to break free.

The hand gripping him shook from the force. The man was pouring out enormous energy.

Even so, he couldn't break Jeong-un's hold. The grip was as solid as a knot of true ki.

"You bastard...! How dare you touch me with your filthy hand!"

Jeong-un looked into his eyes and spoke.

"You'd do well to awaken from your delusions."

"...?"

"Compared to them, you're a small fry. That's my honest impression."

"You...!"

The moment he finished, Jeong-un yanked the seized wrist hard, then pulled his right arm and twisted his waist simultaneously.

His elbow crashed into the man's chin.

Crack—!

With a sound like shattering rock, the bursting energy ripped through the air.

The impact was so great that even his clothes fluttered.

This wasn't just simple brawling. Every movement now carried tremendous true ki.

It wouldn't have been strange if such a blow had killed the man instantly.

Boom!

The man was flung far and slammed into the ground.

Stones erupted and scattered everywhere.

Even as the man flew, Jeong-un recalled the way the air around him rippled, proof of the vast cultivated power stored in his body.

His elbow felt every bit of the impact. He was sure he had landed the blow perfectly.

Still, there was something off—an odd sense of dissonance—the true ki that had enveloped the man's entire body, the body-protecting enhanced ki.

'They did say he was an expert.'

It didn't seem to be a lie.

As Jeong-un muttered to himself—

"... You lunatic."

The High Priest staggered but stood right up.

Even after taking that tremendous blow, he had enough strength to move immediately.

He even wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and apart from being smeared with blood, didn't seem to have any broken bones.

Calling that body sturdy would be an understatement.

Seeing that, Jeong-un's figure blurred like the wind.

He drew forth true ki and unleashed his body cultivation art—now, his feet moved so swiftly they were barely visible.

Whoosh!

A surge of ki burst from where the man had been standing, slicing a great boulder clean in half.

The cut was mirror-smooth.

Now, every sword strike Jeong-un released carried genuine enhanced energy, even Sword Aura itself.

Before he knew it, the man, now rushing from the opposite direction, shouted out—his hair wildly disheveled from the earlier blow.

"Ha! Your sword can't touch me! If you'd cut me during that lucky moment, maybe you'd have had a chance!"

Whoosh!

Again, Jeong-un's body flickered.

The speed was overwhelming.

Instantly, he was right in front of the man who had just been shouting.

Slash!

The air was torn anew.

A dozen thick ancient trees behind the man toppled smoothly as if sliced.

Boom!

"Hahahaha!"

The man, who narrowly dodged Jeong-un's sword strike, broke into wild laughter.

Even the tone of his voice had changed.

Was it because he had seen his own blood?

He seemed utterly excited now.

"Go ahead, keep wasting your internal power! You look pretty deep, but you'll run dry eventually. I'll wait as long as you want. I'll turn your corpse into my trophy then!"

Run dry?

Jeong-un muttered as he chased after him.

What a joke.

The man still had no idea of the amount of ki he possessed.

Even after a battle with the man's subordinates and several exchanges with the man himself, Jeong-un hadn't felt any depletion at all.

At this very moment, Jeong-un was testing his own body against the man.

He was feeling the difference from before—the strength, the changes in how his internal energy circulated.

Such things could only be fully grasped in actual combat.

Jeong-un said,

"Ten exchanges from now."

"What?"

"In ten moves, you'll be dead. Until then, you're free to rant all you want."

"Shut up!"

Five lines of bursting energy spun and shot from the man's fingertips. It was immense, compressed true ki.

Bam!

This time, Jeong-un didn't even bother to parry with his sword.

There was no need.

Even his light steps now carried the subtlety of Moonlight Swift Steps.

In fact, in these kinds of situations, the essence of evasion footwork naturally emerged.

This was martial arts crafted and refined with his own body.

Now, Jeong-un no longer looked down on the path he had walked. He wouldn't denigrate the foundation of martial arts he had built without a master.

It was no longer 無學 (no learning/무학), but 武學 (martial study/무학)—and it was approaching completion.

Fwwwaaah—

He matched pace with the man who had been moving ceaselessly. The man's eyes widened.

Jeong-un had completely caught up with him in the movement technique that he so boasted about. And still, Jeong-un had energy to spare.

Once again, the flash of the sword gleamed.

Shaaak!

Again, the man twisted his neck to narrowly dodge. At this point, Jeong-un had to acknowledge him.

Quick on his feet, capable of wielding enhanced energy with his hands—he truly was an expert among experts in the martial world.

'His footwork changed when he dodged.'

Even as he moved, Jeong-un reflected.

The moment the man dodged with lightness skill, his ki surged from his feet up into his upper body.

This man also knew how to enfold true ki in his muscles and compress energy to fire it off.

He must have mastered his own sophisticated footwork technique.

That Jeong-un caught even that just now was remarkable.

The man, now a bit further away, shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice sharp as it cut through the air.

"Five exchanges left! For all your big talk, this is all you've got? Is there nothing else?"

"That's what I was going to say."

Whoosh!

As Jeong-un shifted his feet, he was right next to the man. Staring directly into his eyes, he spoke.

"Is hastily moving your feet the only thing you know how to do?"

"... Don't mock me!"

From the man's shoulder, pitch-black true ki surged.

It raced down his arm, pooling in his hand, and soon, formless enhanced energy burst from his swinging claws.

Crack!

Jeong-un lightly blocked it with the back of his hand.

The counterforce was not trivial, but his expression didn't change.

By now, he was thoroughly accustomed to multiple exchanges.

But the man's arm flipped upward. He must not have anticipated Jeong-un would meet it so directly.

Still, his face was relaxed, as if trusting solely in his speed.

"Try swinging your sword again!"

As before, even with a gap that felt like close range for a martial artist, the man shouted with confidence.

His eyes were strikingly clear.

Seeing this, Jeong-un thought inwardly.

'Let's end this.'

The moment the idea crystallized in his mind, his entire internal power surged violently, rushing through his meridians without hesitation.

His powerful body easily accepted the huge flow of true ki.

Thus, it all condensed in the laborious acupoint at the palm gripping the sword guard.

This wasn't truly a life-or-death battle fought with all his might.

To be precise, it was an opportunity to feel and become one with his new body.

There was no sense of do-or-die.

But there would be no better chance to test this completely changed self from head to toe.

Saaak!

True ki condensed in the laborious acupoint shot down the blade.

The density of internal power was immense.

Before, such vibration could have made his wrist and sword tip tremble considerably.

Not now.

From elbow to sword tip, there was not a hint of shaking.

Vast and concentrated true ki, a powerfully tempered body, and a mind pushed to the limit created the perfect union.

In this moment, Jeong-un felt a sense of unity with the sword guard he gripped—more natural even than before he had achieved the union of sword and mind. The tip of his sword extended, drawing a perfect line.

Like an immortal pointing the way.

Taang—!

The man's feet, which had never ceased moving with lightness skill, suddenly stopped.

He tilted his head slightly backward, perhaps dazed.

Then, with a slight bow of his head, he glared up at Jeong-un and spoke.

"You..."

This was not the shout of someone excited by battle. The voice was rough, dragged forcibly from his chest.

Before the man could continue, Jeong-un cut him off.

"You spoke of the leaders of the great sects."

"...?"

Jeong-un spoke as the clear look in the man's eyes faded out.

"You're the slowest of them all."

And with that, the man's body fell backward.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

Poor Blood Cult High Priest, he became a training dummy at the end...

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】