Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Completion

Thud.

Jeong-un looked down indifferently at the collapsed man.

The eyes, unable to close, merely wandered the empty sky, unfocused and vacant.

Blood trickled down from the center of his brow, drawing a line down the pale face.

There was a tiny hole there.

It was the wound left by the bursting energy sword strike Jeong-un had unleashed.

He glanced at the man's legs.

Just a short while ago, he'd darted about showing off impressive lightness skill—so much for that now.

He was already a corpse before even toppling backward.

Jeong-un saw with his own eyes how the burning, intense clear expression in the eyes was extinguished in an instant.

Did the man, holding fast to his beliefs, enter the cycle of reincarnation?

There was no way of knowing.

"......."

After silently gazing at the corpse for a moment, Jeong-un suddenly paused.

The skin, so pale it was almost white, began to darken with a blackish-red hue.

It was the price for absorbing a massive amount of foul energy through a similarly dirty essence-draining technique.

Now, as the intent that had held his true ki in place dissipated, the energy, lost without a destination, began eroding the body itself.

'The area magistrate will have more work to do.'

Jeong-un muttered to himself and scanned his surroundings.

There were several corpses scattered about.

While the state of each varied, without exception, all were turning black. All would have to be burned.

Then, on a sudden impulse, he looked down at his own body.

'... I've made progress.'

He had advanced so clearly that he could distinctly think it.

It had happened when he was caught in one of the explosions from the fire bombs the men had hurled at him, taking heavy internal injuries.

He'd been flung aside by the sheer force of the blast.

His energy stream tangled so much he nearly coughed up blood.

'So this is how it is...'

The first truly life-threatening injury and the terrible pain that came along with it.

Yet rather than be defeated by it, that crisis became a catalyst, igniting an intense intent.

His true ki responded and surged, forcefully piercing open a new meridian within his body.

The flow came so naturally that even Jeong-un was surprised.

It was as if his internal energy had been awaiting just that moment to move.

Naturally, he remembered what Mu Jung had once said.

'He said my body was already complete.'

Mu Jung had said that to him directly, telling him that since he held a lantern, all he had to do was walk.

At the time, those words hadn't quite resonated.

That was only natural.

He had never stopped walking, not even for a moment.

It had just seemed like another Zen riddle, mixed with his own frustrations.

But now it was different.

Having undergone the experience, he understood what those words had meant.

With new, profound energy and natural senses, his body had reached completion.

But Mu Jung had seen that his mind had yet to keep up with those two.

Besides his lack of martial world experience, Jeong-un hadn't stirred up the kind of powerful resolve needed to break past his walls.

He hadn't even realized that fact.

His sense for moving true ki was so exceptional that he never felt lacking.

Besides, he'd been wholly absorbed in refining martial arts of his own creation.

'Progress may have been slow, but I was still moving forward.'

He'd simply been satisfied with a blade skill that grew a little sharper at a time, thinking that was the only way to polish his arts.

'There was no way becoming the strongest in the martial world was that simple to begin with.'

If simply repeating arduous training allowed one to enter the realm of the expert, then most of the martial artists in the world would already be masters.

Unfortunately, martial arts mastery couldn't be proven through diligence alone like other studies.

It's a field far beyond reason and logic.

It starts, after all, from perceiving natural energy through breathing.

Even at that stage, some took months, some years to progress.

The feeling of filling one's dantian with true ki was a sensation impossible to explain in words.

'I got complacent again.'

At some point, he had started settling for small accomplishments.

Perhaps he'd grown used to the idea that how things stood was already enough.

Jeong-un recalled the now hazy dream he'd once had—a dream of a life spent wielding swords.

It was that very dream that had pulled him out of his small room.

A life that had risked everything on swordplay, yet failed to find meaning in it even at the end.

Though the dream had faded, the feelings remained vivid.

"... I need to train on multiple fronts."

Jeong-un murmured, his face momentarily clouded by a strange shadow.

True ki responds to will.

The reason realization is so critical to a martial artist lies in that point.

You never know how enlightenment will come, so you must strive to accumulate diverse experiences.

Now, in his own body, a new meridian had formed, piercing straight through the central channel.

Even now, true ki surged relentlessly along that path.

In particular, that piercing thrust which had gone through his opponent's brow—a sword move that used that very central channel.

Massive true ki ripped through that new meridian, bringing the vaguely-conceived, half-formed sword move into clear reality.

At last, he had perfected the third sword move.

'Immortal Points The Way.'

That was the name he chose for it.

It was the same as the third move of the Three Talent Sword Technique that circulated in the market streets.

He didn't mind.

There wasn't any other name that fit, after all.

Attaching names to moves was symbolic more than anything—the name itself didn't matter much.

As long as it rolled easily off his tongue, that was enough.

"Anyway..."

With that, he had completed the final sword move of his own style.

Jeong-un glanced at the black sword in his grasp.

It had been his companion since he began his martial world journey.

Back then, he had only one internal cultivation method to his name, but now he possessed quite a few martial arts.

If he kept accumulating, perhaps he might even form a complete system in the future.

Above all, hadn't he finally become a true martial artist?

Grasping a sword no longer felt foreign to him.

As he took in the longer fingers—now surpassing the sword's guard—he felt anew how much his body had matured.

'Let's go.'

At last, Jeong-un set out once more.

* * *

Entering the village and approaching the estate of the Heavenly Blade Gate, the first thing he noticed was the bright lights.

He immediately understood what had happened.

When Jeong-un's chase with the so-called High Priest began, a powerful surge of ki had erupted.

The sensitive martial artists would have shot up immediately.

However, by then, both Jeong-un and his opponent had vanished, and their speed far outstripped the trace left by the waves of ki, making pursuit nearly impossible.

Moreover, with so few in their group, it was difficult to search the area thoroughly.

Martial artists or not, with only three of them, combing a whole region would not be easy.

And, there was always the worry of missing Jeong-un if he returned suddenly.

"Young hero Jeong-un!"

As he drew closer, Tang Yerin, spotting him in the distance, leapt forward, using lightness skill as if flying.

Her face was grim—she must have been worried sick.

She examined Jeong-un's body with her eyes as she spoke.

"You're all right, aren't you? I felt the surge from a lightness skill and rushed out of my room, but by then you'd already disappeared. I was so worried..."

"I'm fine..."

He nodded as he replied.

"Young hero!"

Suddenly, Tang Yerin yelped in shock.

She'd spotted how Jeong-un's clothes were torn here and there.

They weren't even sword wounds. Some parts had been blasted apart or charred black from massive explosions.

'Ah.'

As he checked his own clothing, Jeong-un was just about to offer an explanation.

Tang Yerin, without hesitation, ran her bare hand over his arm.

Through the torn fabric, her hand met his skin directly.

"What on earth...! What happened to you? If you were caught in such a large blast, the wounds should be severe..."

Then, as if something struck her as odd, she hesitated.

Raising her head slightly, she looked at Jeong-un.

"... There aren't any wounds?"

"I'm fine."

Jeong-un gently removed Tang Yerin's hand from his forearm.

"I was meditating in my room when I sensed someone invading through ki sense. I went after him straight away, but he kept adjusting his speed to lure me. When I arrived, it turned out to be a trap."

"A trap?"

As Tang Yerin, her face pale as paper, questioned him, Jo Gwang and Baek Il-gang arrived, flying in succession.

They must have been circling the estate, waiting for Jeong-un's return.

"What happened? Where have you been? And what's with that state...!"

As Jo Gwang began shouting in alarm, Jeong-un cut him off.

"Let's go inside first. There's a lot to share."

They entered Jeong-un's room and sat around a long table.

Without a word, the others left the seat of honor open for Jeong-un, who took it with some embarrassment.

Yet unlike before, everyone sat in silence.

Each waited for Jeong-un to speak, with their own inscrutable expressions.

Scanning them with a strange look of his own, Jeong-un began explaining.

How his opponent had cunningly hidden his presence to lure only him.

How he'd fallen for the trap and been assaulted by dozens of fire bombs.

How he'd slain every enemy, even sending the High Priest to the next world.

"......."

Even after he finished, a peculiar silence lingered in the room. At length, Jo Gwang finally spoke.

"So, just to be clear. You took dozens of direct fire bomb hits, but instead you killed all of them yourself and made it back here?"

"That's right."

"You're sure it was actually a fire bomb? Occasionally you'll find some that flash brightly but are weak and shoddy."

"I understand what you're implying, but these were definitely fire bombs. The force of the explosions was tremendous. At daybreak, I plan to call the area magistrate and send government soldiers to search the area. There are not just traces—all those bodies must be burned cleanly."

"......."

Jo Gwang fell silent.

Even the hardiest martial artist would cross the river of death if hit by a fire bomb, let alone dozens.

And yet Jeong-un was not only unscathed, he'd killed all the attackers and come back?

On top of that, he spoke of summoning an area magistrate—a proper official of the nation—like a mere servant?

He didn't even know which part he found most bewildering.

At that moment, Baek Il-gang, watching Jeong-un with an odd expression, spoke.

"You've broken through once again. And now, your ki pathway is like that of a corps leader."

"... It happened that way."

Jeong-un nodded without denial.

He could feel the difference in himself like never before.

At this point, any pretense at modesty would simply look like affectation.

And less than half a day had passed.

No wonder they were shocked.

Tang Yerin, still watching Jeong-un, opened her mouth.

"Fire bombs aren't easy to use. Even keeping them in this country is a crime—let alone dozens at once... We should send an additional letter to the Heavenly Martial Hall as a separate report."

"I was planning on it anyway. After all, I killed one of those eight High Priests."

"What?"

Though his companions seemed utterly unflappable, their eyes went wide in surprise.

Jo Gwang, stammering for once, managed to speak.

"If... If you mean those, the ones he talked about? The only eight experts in their group..."

Jeong-un nodded.

"He was extremely dangerous. At a glance, he seemed comparable to an elder of a great sect. Fortunately, I was able to kill him easily. He let his guard down, overestimating his ability and underestimating me."

"......."

As everyone quietly closed their mouths, Jeong-un reflected by himself.

Even those who mastered the strongest martial arts did not necessarily develop noble character.

That's why provocations sometimes work, even with a few simple words.

In that, they're still ordinary people, living their lives feeling the same emotions as everyone else.

Perhaps that's what the training of mind and body is for.

The great monks who endured decades of meditation were said to have a mind like a calm sea, maintaining composure against any disturbance.

Such steadiness must be an overwhelming advantage in battle.

'Even if I never reach that level, I should at least train myself properly.'

He resolved himself again. He refused to die a pointless death to some stray blade.

Just then, Jo Gwang's voice rang out.

"This..."

"......?"

Jeong-un looked up at him in puzzlement. Jo Gwang spoke, looking unusually serious.

"When this is over, I think I'll get two-stripes as well. Things have gotten so big, my achievements will surely be notable..."

"And what exactly did you do?"

Jeong-un couldn't help but let out a chuckle.