Chapter 320

Chapter 320
Chapter 320
Wudang Sect (3)

A collection of days had slipped by since the combatants of the Zhuge Clan and the Wudang Sect paired up and commenced their trek.

Following their initial collaborative engagement, they successfully navigated through several additional skirmishes, ultimately arriving at Dengfeng County within Henan Province.

“Our destination is finally within sight.”

“Behold Mount Song, the hallowed ground of the Buddhist Order… It truly earns its reputation as one of the Five Great Mountains of China.”

The travelers, having triumphed over a multitude of hurdles and now approaching their journey’s end, took in the sweeping vistas with deep contentment.

‘The fighting should be behind us now.’

This was the collective sentiment taking root in everyone’s mind.

Dengfeng sat in close proximity to Mount Song, the home of the Shaolin Temple, meaning the likelihood of encountering further peril was incredibly slim.

The proof lay in how noticeably the frequency of their clashes had plummeted as they drew nearer to the territory influenced by the Shaolin Temple.

“Truly fitting of Shaolin. Their ability to uphold peace in these lands is remarkable. It is because of their presence that our trek has been so tranquil.”

“They have undoubtedly doubled their vigilance, given the grand assembly on the horizon.”

While the rest of the party let their guard down to savor the breathtaking terrain,

Elder Yunhyeon of the Wudang Sect remained deeply absorbed in his own reflections, a solemn air hanging about him.

‘…His name was Ha Seung-hoon, if I recall correctly.’

The focus of his current fixated thoughts was a particular young man travelling alongside the Zhuge Clan delegation.

A gifted youth who had captured his attention from the very moment their paths first crossed.

‘He is quite extraordinary.’

That fascination had only intensified after observing the young man’s display during their initial combined battle.

He had, after all, been watching his progression unfold with his own eyes.

‘Sharpening his skills with every passing day, ceaselessly shifting… He possesses the markings of a genuine prodigy.’

An expert of the master-level tier like Elder Yunhyeon could not possibly overlook such transformations in a person he was deliberately monitoring.

He recognized not only the astonishing speed of Ha Seung-hoon’s advancement, but also the reality that it was being shaped by the martial artists surrounding him.

‘He appears to be drawing significant inspiration from our own Wudang style… ’

This very realization was the source of his current mental debate.

The young man’s handling of the blade and his physical positioning were beginning to mirror the characteristics of the Wudang style… yet it was not distinct enough to level an accusation of technique theft against him.

He wasn’t illicitly studying their restricted texts or mimicking their foundational stances.

Instead, he was merely absorbing and adapting based on what he perceived and endured amidst the chaos of live combat.

Furthermore, pliable sword styles existed outside of the Wudang Sect’s domain.

Completely oblivious to the existence of 「Mimicry」 and the mechanics behind it, Elder Yunhyeon could do nothing but ponder the mystery.

Yet, a more pressing thought weighed on him…

‘It would be an absolute tragedy to let such talent slip away.’

He had picked up on a vital detail while journeying alongside the Zhuge Clan.

The connection binding Ha Seung-hoon to the Zhuge Clan was nowhere near as profound as he had initially presumed.

Their interactions were strictly bound by protocol, keeping a respectful distance akin to an honored visitor and an accommodating host, rather than a devoted pupil and a guiding mentor.

Even Zhuge Junghyeok, who commanded the delegation, appeared largely detached from him.

Most telling of all, however…

Was the fact that the bedrock of the youth’s combat training bore no resemblance to the martial traditions of the Zhuge Clan.

‘It seems my assumptions were incorrect. If his status is merely that of a guest rather than a formal disciple… ’

A sharp spark of ambition flared within Elder Yunhyeon’s gaze.

Could it be possible to coax him into joining the ranks of the Wudang Sect?

The boy clearly held an innate synchronization with their particular method of the sword. He could easily dangling the prospect of profound instruction as a temptation.

‘While it might not equal the advantage of absorbing the Wudang arts from infancy, his sheer adaptability ensures it wouldn’t pose an issue.’

The state of the world had transformed.

Even those who dedicated themselves to the Tao required martial might to preserve their existence in this era of upheaval.

Naturally, he couldn’t pass down the lineage of Wudang to just anyone… but judging by his scrutiny, the young man possessed a commendable moral compass.

‘I must find an opportune moment to broach the subject.’

He cast a subtle look toward the youth, who was scanning the environment with an inquisitive expression.

Ample time remained before the official proceedings of the gathering were set to commence.

Thus, Elder Yunhyeon held fast to his private ambition, indulging in his hopeful musings.

As the traveling party pushed through the final stretch of their trek,

“Amitabha. Blessings upon you. You must be weary from the long miles you have traversed.”

…They at last set foot at their destination, the Shaolin Temple nestled atop Mount Song.

—

“Hugo is making steady strides as well.”

Hugo, who utilized the avatar moniker Hugo and went by the real-world identity Ha Seung-hoon, was throwing himself into rigorous preparation within Ganghwange, pushing hard to cement his status as an accomplished combatant.

Backed by the initial framework provided by Harris to secure his footing, and now propelled by Harley’s direct backing, he was entering an era of accelerated advancement.

‘“Heavenly Ki Body” and the “Nameless Art”.’

A combat methodology completely devoid of a title.

He had attempted to assign a moniker to the capability, but the interface had offered no acknowledgment.

It was highly likely that its core parameters remained too fluid and unformed.

‘An evolving capability… It will perpetually alter itself in accordance with the wielder’s path.’

Fretting over it at this juncture yielded no benefits.

His only course of action was to forge ahead.

“Hubert remains deeply occupied with deciphering the texts.”

Hubert, who previously scanned through combat manuals during his idle moments, was currently buried under an avalanche of tasks due to the sheer volume of sects they had plundered.

Even so, he had yet to uncover any S-rank formulas.

‘A scattering of A-rank pieces exist… ’

And those had been extracted exclusively from the Shura Sect, a dominant malevolent faction governed by a master-level combatant.

A-rank methodologies were treated as highly guarded treasures even within prominent organizations… yet having already tasted the power of the S-rank “Gentle Eight Trigrams Secret Art”, his expectations had risen.

‘I ought to commit a few to memory regardless. They could serve as fuel for the progression of the “Nameless Art”.’

He gave a firm nod, solidifying his path forward.

With Hugo’s matters addressed, his focus drifted to Harley, who was similarly positioned within Ganghwange.

‘Harley has certainly left his mark.’

Granted, it consisted mostly of obliteration and chaos, but the outcome remained valid…

Because of those actions, a monumental quantity of Karma had been accumulated.

He had retained a lingering hope that Harley might acquire some practical combat disciplines during his stay in Ganghwange…

“…Yet tracking down an art that aligns with his nature is proving to be a massive hurdle. Just as I suspected.”

Letting out a weary breath, I tilted my head back in disappointment.

He had made numerous attempts to guide Harley toward employing martial methodologies in a structured manner.

Given his staggering physical attributes, fusing those gifts with calculated execution would yield devastating results.

‘Yet the endeavors yielded poor outcomes.’

To be fair, it wasn’t an absolute failure.

Harley’s recent combat output stood as undeniable evidence.

He had grasped the fundamentals of maximizing his physical form and properly focusing his momentum… a striking demonstration of what occurs when a brute force entity integrates human methodologies.

However, the moment they experimented with intricate patterns—like complex striking sequences or fluid footwork, the meticulously crafted and delicate pathways of high-level martial arts—the system broke down.

It mirrored the act of forcing an awkwardly tailored outfit onto his frame. It did nothing but restrict his mobility and dilute the impact of his strikes.

‘For an entity like Harley, an unthinking, raw strike carries far more devastation than a flawlessly executed technique.’

Because of this, he had held onto the hope of uncovering a harmonious combat style within Ganghwange, a realm teeming with diverse and bizarre methodologies…

Yet nothing viable had presented itself so far.

‘I am confident the right match will surface eventually. A pinnacle-tier martial discipline tailored precisely for a physiology as anomalous as Harley’s isn’t something stumbled upon easily.’

The journey of Hugo… or more accurately, Ha Seung-hoon… through the landscape of the Murim was merely in its opening stages.

He was bound to cross paths with countless combat systems and hidden scrolls.

He could afford to make a definitive choice down the road.

‘There is no immediate rush.’

Though he had arrived at the Shaolin Temple, the formal assembly wasn’t scheduled to open for some time.

It would take a considerable interval for delegates from every corner of the land to complete their arrivals.

Therefore, for today…

“Right, I believe a feast of chicken is in order.”

…He resolved to provide Hugo, who was facing a stretch of forced monastic vegetarian meals at the temple, with a thoroughly satisfying feast.

—

The Immortal Fortress, steeped in a macabre and oppressive atmosphere, rested deep within the recesses of the Northern Mountains.

[“Hmph, this proves utterly fruitless.”]

A chilling, malevolent utterance reverberated through the confines of an isolated laboratory tucked away in the deep subterranean levels.

A blood-chilling tone capable of causing ordinary men to lose consciousness and driving even seasoned warriors to shudder with dread.

[“I harbored grand expectations… yet reality dictates otherwise. I shall simply have to lock it away in storage for the time being.”]

This entity was Hans, the Immortal King, the supreme rival of Auterica.

Having delivered the killing blow to the Patriarch of the Heaven’s Turn Society and drained a portion of his ethereal essence, he had retreated to the safety of the Immortal Fortress to recuperate, spending his time experimenting on a collection of intriguing specimens.

He had just put the finishing touches on his latest trial.

Swish—

With a casual sweep of his arm, several lifeless forms resting atop the examination slabs began sinking into the darkness pooling beneath them, fading from view entirely.

These were the physical remains of master-level practitioners native to Ganghwange, their bloodless complexions and alien garments standing out in sharp contrast against the typical reanimated dead.

Harley had been the one to harvest them.

‘It appears transforming denizens of separate realms into thralls of undeath via conventional approaches presents a significant barrier.’

The process diverged wildly from manipulating awakened souls.

These specimens were produced and nurtured within Ganghwange, bound to its distinct existential parameters, rendering them effectively foreign matter within Auterica.

It was as though the fabric of this reality itself pushed back against magic originating from beyond its borders.

‘Then again, considering they are all elite practitioners of Ganghwange’s internal energy refinement systems, the resistance is logical.’

To manifest them as true undead, Hans would need to physically transition into Ganghwange himself.

Operating as an awakened entity, his necrotic sorcery would function there without meeting any fundamental barriers.

Granted, the caliber of the resulting thralls would suffer a decline, given his inability to bring along his specialized laboratory apparatus and premium components…

[“Wait.”]

A sudden flash of clarity caused Hans’s gaze to flare with intense light.

It was entirely predictable that his specialized necromantic procedures would lose efficacy when transposed into an alien realm.

The solution was simple: he merely needed to reinforce his magic by weaving in the indigenous practices of that world.

‘I recall records detailing a corpse-animation methodology known as the jiangshi technique within Ganghwange.’

While the Zhuge Clan abstained from such corrupted arts, he had picked up threads of this lore while pooling his intelligence data.

He had even gleaned insights regarding it from Zhuge Hyemi, the frail young lady who dedicated her existence to pouring over texts.

‘It is a dark science predominantly utilized by the Demonic Cult and the Blood Cult.’

These were clandestine, reviled associations whose reach and numbers paled in comparison to the orthodox coalitions.

Consequently, they had engineered alternative pathways to balance out their deficit in numbers, foremost among them being the jiangshi creation process, enabling them to weaponize the physical vessels of fallen masters.

[“Heh heh— Jiangshi, a fascinating concept. I am eager to witness the outcome of fusing such principles with my own dark arts… particularly when applied to awakened specimens.”]

Constructing a jiangshi was notoriously demanding, yet even the crudely fabricated variations were rumored to eclipse standard master-level combatants in sheer power.

Meanwhile Hugo, despite his elevated attributes, specialized skills, and the presence of the 「Nameless Art」, was only just straddling the upper threshold of the master tier…

‘I believe a personal excursion to their domain is warranted.’

Hans stepped away from the experimentation area, rubbing his skeletal jawline with dark contemplation.

There was very little demanding his direct intervention within Auterica at this point anyway.

Heinrich, lingering back at the sanctuary, was thoroughly engrossed in orchestrating the final crusade against the Lord of the Dead.

Since an eventual departure was inevitable, exploring his secondary domain ahead of schedule seemed a prudent course of action.

‘I shall survey the progress of the others before making my move.’

And with that—.

The shadow of an extra-dimensional Demon Sovereign was poised to cast itself over the fracturing foundations of the Murim world.