Chapter 56: Words Can Become Seeds

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Cheol Ryu-heun turned his head left and right to survey the dwelling and its surroundings, then let out an indifferent voice.

“Still living alone, I see.”

At the repeated tone of treating him like a subordinate, Seop Pyo was so dumbfounded that he couldn’t help but laugh in spite of himself.

Could this be a provocation tactic?

He should first identify this stranger’s identity or purpose.

As befitting the swordsman who had once reached the peak of the assassin’s path, Seop Pyo maintained his composure and sharpened his energy sense even more keenly.

Now he could feel it.

The vast energy lurking within the opponent’s body.

It was like a great wave.

An amount of internal energy that ordinary martial artists couldn’t even dream of.

Also.

It was hot.

Power as intense as the noon sunlight on a summer day.

At the very least, this must be an expert at the first-rate tier.

‘He’s no ordinary first-rate swordsman. Most likely, he’s definitely someone who has acquired martial power beyond his age.’

Just because someone was at the first-rate tier didn’t mean they were all the same level.

There were definite gaps in martial prowess.

There wasn’t any particular terminology used to rank them.

However, when mentioning experts evaluated as being at the top or pinnacle of the first-rate tier, the context of using strong expressions like ultra-first-rate, ultra-peak, or ultra-extreme was precisely that.

Seop Pyo had been the same in the past.

Strong-impression modifiers like “ultra-peak assassin” or “ultra-first-rate assassin” had always followed him.

Generally, dividing martial cultivation rankings with set terminology was just a meaningless game played by rumormongers who enjoyed talking about others.

In any case, Seop Pyo thought the opponent’s power seemed to be quite high within the first-rate tier.

But.

‘Huh?’

Seop Pyo’s eyes flickered imperceptibly.

He was bewildered.

The large quantity of energy detected through his energy sense wasn’t from the stranger – it was the yang vital energy contained within the horse he was riding.

‘Then was that noisy vibration earlier due to the horse’s inherent tremendous strength? What is this…’

He had initially thought the person riding the horse was using some kind of internal energy cultivation to enhance the horse’s power and cause such a commotion.

He’d been mistaken.

Though the overdeveloped muscles throughout its body were strange, he’d just thought it was some special trained horse or famous steed – he never imagined it was actually a mystical creature with unusual abilities.

Question upon question piled up.

Setting aside the mystical creature possessing yang vital energy, why couldn’t he detect any energy whatsoever from that fellow sitting on top of it?

It felt like facing an ordinary person.

But there was no way he hadn’t learned martial arts.

Right there at his waist hung a sword, plain as day.

Of course, there was also the possibility he hadn’t cultivated internal energy.

But seeing him riding around on such a mystical creature, surely he’d at least laid the foundations of energy cultivation?

That made it even more puzzling.

Unless one was among the foremost powerhouses of the world, deceiving his energy sense was impossible.

“Do you know me?”

Seop Pyo’s quiet voice.

Much meaning was contained in that short question.

Cheol Ryu-heun dismounted and nodded.

“Head-Severing Yama.”

“…”

“You’re wondering how I know that – that’s the look in your eyes.”

“Who are you?”

“Cheol Ryu-heun. Sect Master of White Peak Sword Sect.”

“White Peak Sword Sect?”

The questions blossoming in Seop Pyo’s chest grew even larger.

This was an utterly incomprehensible situation.

How had someone from White Peak Sword Sect discovered his past identity, and how had they found his secluded dwelling…?

In truth, he had no connection to that place whatsoever.

There was no point of intersection.

During his time active as Head-Severing Yama, he had never once been entangled with White Peak Sword Sect.

Neither directly nor indirectly.

That’s why this meeting was hard to accept.

The information he knew about White Peak Sword Sect was at best fragmentary.

Around the time he retired from assassin life, he had heard rumors that internal strife seemed imminent due to deepening conflict between factions within the sect.

That was all.

From Seop Pyo’s perspective, White Peak Sword Sect was merely a martial sect buried deep in his memory without any significance.

“You…”

The moment Seop Pyo began to speak, Cheol Ryu-heun’s voice cut in sharply.

“I am the Sect Master. As you can see, I’m quite young, but still.”

Displeasure rose in Seop Pyo’s pupils.

“White Peak Sword Sect should be a proper orthodox famous sect.”

He was pointing out the attitude of someone who, unlike a Sect Master of an orthodox faction, had been firing off informal speech from the very start as if he’d tossed courtesy to some neighborhood dog.

Cheol Ryu-heun’s face remained expressionless.

As if saying: So what?

Finally, Seop Pyo openly released the intangible aura he’d been suppressing.

A feeling of countless blades rising from the ground.

As the living legend of the assassin’s path finally displayed his might, the mountains and grass held their breath and draped a curtain of silence.

It was an intangible aura that perfectly matched the word “fear.”

Even someone who prided themselves on being cold-blooded, if they came here and encountered Seop Pyo’s murderous presence, would inevitably feel their legs go weak.

Suddenly, countless wingbeats noisily covered all directions.

Flutter-flutter, flutter-flutter, flutter-flutter, flutter-flutter…!

Mountain birds blackening the sky.

They must have instinctively sensed danger from Seop Pyo’s spine-chilling aura.

It was tremendous majesty.

They called him the King of Hell who carried around a guillotine, didn’t they?

Indeed, it seemed his incarnation had appeared before his eyes.

And yet.

Cheol Ryu-heun showed no change of expression even when facing that tremendous intangible aura.

Rather, it was Seop Pyo who was flustered.

‘Look at this guy?’

Although he had been an assassin active in the shadows, his martial prowess level had been proven before the world to be no less than the Thirteen Seats of the World, the highest-level experts of the time.

By beheading Strange Blade King Bul Bi, first Lord of Great Strange Mountain Manor.

Furthermore, he had even received heartfelt praise from the era’s strongest, Ascending Heavens Sword Dragon Ba Hun.

And yet… Who was this fellow that he showed no reaction like some immortal who had attained enlightenment about the world’s principles?

Suspicious.

He was an untrustworthy fellow.

The fact that he had come visiting already knowing the identity of himself, who had long secluded himself in Jianwen Mountain, was deeply suspicious to begin with, and watching that expressionless face greatly amplified the doubt in his heart.

It was incomprehensible that someone from White Peak Sword Sect had appeared here.

There was a high probability it was a lie.

Right, what could be more dangerous than a fellow whose emotions couldn’t be read like that?

With that thought, Seop Pyo raised his internal energy.

Killing him would be easy.

A half-baked martial artist at the first-rate tier couldn’t be his match.

But getting to the bottom of things should come first.

He would subdue him quickly and then have time for questions and answers – so he wouldn’t hold back his strikes.

Right… Earlier, that fellow had called him “shit swordsman” upon first meeting.

He was annoyed all over again.

Hmm, he should probably break one bone.

At that moment, Cheol Ryu-heun’s mouth quietly opened.

“Suspicious as expected for an assassin.”

“Hah.”

Seop Pyo gave an exasperated laugh, then quietly warned.

“I’ve abstained from killing for a long time now… But you’re forcing me to sin.”

But an absurd reply dug into his ears.

“That’s a lie.”

“What?”

“You killed and even burned it, so what are you talking about?”

Cheol Ryu-heun pointed with his chin at the mud-covered meat placed on the burning firewood.

“…”

For a moment, Seop Pyo was speechless.

Damn, that’s an animal!

Are you telling me not to hunt while living buried in a mountain wilderness?

Haa, this guy’s head is definitely not normal.

Whoosh!

Seop Pyo’s figure disappeared in an instant, then appeared like a ghost right in front of Cheol Ryu-heun.

Astonishing lightness technique.

Ghostly movement executed in the blink of an eye, with no hint of presence whatsoever.

Just as Seop Pyo’s right hand was about to slam down on the opponent’s shoulder like a swift blade.

‘Hup!’

Startled, he suddenly stopped his strike for some reason.

“So impatient.”

Cheol Ryu-heun glanced at the opponent’s right hand hovering just above his shoulder and spoke listlessly.

“N-No, that’s…!”

Seop Pyo, having stammered, retreated with horror in his eyes.

The reason for his shock was singular.

Because just before his strike could land, he had noticed a reddish jade medallion that Cheol Ryu-heun had somehow drawn and was holding.

The Vermillion Dragon Medallion.

The divine artifact symbolizing Ascending Heavens Sword Dragon Ba Hun had revealed itself again after thirty years.

Seop Pyo’s mind went blank.

He had once had a conversation about such matters with Ba Hun in the past.

-Senior, is that the Vermillion Dragon Medallion, the sect command token? I’d only heard rumors – this is my first time seeing the real thing.

-Yes, I brought it out deliberately. Actually, I was worried succession disputes might arise over it.

-Ah, I see.

-Later, if someone without qualifications or skill comes to possess this sect command token, they could control everything in my sect based on that justification alone. So I’ve preemptively eliminated the seed of trouble.

-Did you bring the Divine Martial Sword out for the same reason?

-Correct. I’ve arranged for the Sect Master position to be inherited through the Four Dragons Sword Art alone, including my disciples.

-Isn’t Dragon Martial Gate’s power the greatest of our era? Even without the Vermillion Dragon Medallion and Divine Martial Sword that have symbolized the Sect Master position until now, I believe a successor who surpasses you, Senior, will definitely emerge someday.

-Indeed, I hope so. Haha.

-By the way, what will you do with the Divine Martial Sword?

-I’ll just leave it where I plan to retire. If someone with heaven’s fortune happens to discover that place someday, they’ll become its new owner.

-They would literally be someone favored by heaven. Of course, just obtaining it doesn’t mean anyone can manifest its divine power.

-I plan to store the Vermillion Dragon Medallion somewhere hard to find, so it will never appear in the world again. Hmm… If by chance you happen to meet someone possessing the Vermillion Dragon Medallion while you’re still alive, think of them as my incarnation.

-Heh. Well, I don’t know. I’m planning to spend the rest of my days here from now on… But if I really do see a Vermillion Dragon Medallion owner, I’ll serve them with reverence as I would you, Senior. No, I’ll even grant them three requests.

-My, look at you. You’re just saying whatever because you think it definitely won’t happen. Hahaha.

-Hahaha. Surely you won’t change your mind and take on a new successor while in seclusion? It would be troublesome if you made a fool of me that way.

-Oh, that’s tempting. Haha, hahaha. Of course I was joking… But since this meeting will be buried as a secret anyway, don’t worry needlessly.

-Haha, who knows? Heaven might work strange mischief and surprise me, you know?

For Seop Pyo, this was absurd beyond belief.

They said words can become seeds, and it had actually happened.

Cheol Ryu-heun asked abruptly.

“You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

Gripped by an ominous premonition, Seop Pyo cautiously asked back.

“Forgotten what…?”

“The three requests.”

When Cheol Ryu-heun spoke bluntly, Seop Pyo’s face immediately froze.

‘…!’

He felt dizzy.

Right now, Seop Pyo’s mind was a world of chaos.

He had no idea how on earth he should react.

“There’s nothing I don’t know.”

At Cheol Ryu-heun’s meaningful words, Seop Pyo flinched.

“…”

“Including even that single unofficial assassination you barely managed to pull off while hiding in the outhouse.”

“What! How do you know that…?”

The moment Seop Pyo was shocked out of his wits, Cheol Ryu-heun spoke with an arrogant attitude.

“You have no sense. When you see your elder, you should respectfully bow first.”

In that instant, Seop Pyo’s eyes shook greatly like a boat meeting a storm.

A geezer. A young geezer had appeared.