Chapter 527

Chapter 527
Chapter 527.The Monster That Eats Despair (12)

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From the earliest days, Confucius abstained from discussing supernatural phenomena or chaotic apparitions (*goe-ryeok-nan-sin*). Among ordinary folk, tales of spirits were frequently shared, though the vast majority were simply normal occurrences misconstrued and blown out of proportion. For instance, a witness might mistake a martial artist performing **Void-Walking** deep into the night for a phantom, or perceive techniques like **Void-Manipulation** and **Samādhi Fire** as the sorcery of a goblin. Because of this, those who walk the martial path tend to maintain a realistic perspective regarding the paranormal, even if they lack the precise philosophy of Confucius. To the contrary, once martial artists reach the pinnacle of their craft, they actively look forward to encountering phantoms. Beings who possess no rivals under heaven typically yearn for entirely novel thrills.

“Are you referring to…… the **Black King**?”

“It is not the actual **Black King**. It is the **Ryeong**, the **Heuk-wang-ryeong**!”

“By **Heuk-wang-ryeong**…… do you mean to say, *well*…… it is an apparition, correct?”

“I explicitly stated it is not a phantom! It is the genuine **Black King**!”

“……”

To observe a seasoned master possessing the profound wisdom and prestige of **Gong-son-pung** becoming so mentally unraveled that his words completely contradicted themselves was utterly baffling. It crossed the line from ridiculous to downright eerie. A martial artist of his formidable caliber should not be thrown into such a panic even if the living, breathing **Black King** materialized before him, let alone a mere specter of the **Black King**.

“So you are suggesting it is a phantom yet simultaneously not a phantom, the **Black King** but not truly the person himself…… is that your meaning?”

“*Sigh*, as one would expect from an inflexible member of the **Baek-do**, your lack of comprehension is staggering.”

In an instant, a wave of irritation surged from the depths of my torso, but I successfully suppressed it by focusing entirely on circulating the **Tae-eul-jin-gyeong**. My internal injuries, sustained during the clash with **Ju-an-pyeong**, had not yet fully mended. Had my physical condition been perfect, I would have immediately challenged him to a mortal combat. Forcing myself to stay calm, I continued to listen.

“Does this mean this location is not the final resting place of the **Sword Zenith**……”

**Gong-son-pung** began to speak cohesively and at length for the first time. It was as though the ancient divide between the **Huk-do** and the **Baek-do** paled in comparison to the weight of this narrative. According to his account, when the **Sword Zenith** realized his own life force was nearing its natural end, he assessed the remaining lifespan of the **Black King**. Finding that the **Black King** still possessed decades of vitality, the **Sword Zenith** fell into deep despair. He knew that if the **Black King** remained unchecked in the Jianghu after his departure, the righteous factions of the **Baek-do** Murim would face total annihilation. Consequently, the **Sword Zenith** dragged the **Black King** into his subterranean tomb to perish alongside him, thereby preserving the peace of the world.

Yet, left alone to rot within these cavernous depths, the **Black King** survived and nurtured an unyielding malice. Driven by his burning hatred for the **Sword Zenith**, he invoked the taboo art of **Heaven-Defiance** (*yeok-cheon*) to prolong his existence to this day, biding his time to exact vengeance.

“……”

As I stood speechless at this preposterous tale of forced sacrificial burial (*sun-jang*), his features contorted with irritation.

“Do you still fail to grasp the situation? How frustrating. You truly embody the ignorance of the **Baek-do**.”

The mockery ignited my temper, but my physical wounds forced me to hold back. I chose instead to counter with cold logic.

“If your tale holds true, what stopped the **Black King** from simply fleeing this cavern after the **Sword Zenith** passed away?”

“Your mind is terribly slow. Have you not noticed that the layout of this labyrinth has shifted countless times? The paths we initially traversed have vanished, and new corridors form where solid rock once stood.”

“……If that is so, why would the **Black King** focus his animosity solely on the **Baek-do**? Could the **Huk-do** factions not align with him instead?”

“*Sigh*, honestly…… educating a member of the **Baek-do** tests a man’s endurance beyond measure. Do you not realize he has descended into absolute madness, stripped of the ability to tell friend from foe? That is precisely why he is spoken of as a phantom!”

“……”

I had more counterarguments to present, but I sensed that further debate would inevitably lead to an all-out battle, so I offered a noncommittal nod and shifted the focus of our conversation.

“Regardless, if an entity that terrifying truly lurks here, shouldn’t we combine our strengths to escape this labyrinth?”

“How could anyone align with those hypocrites who plan to offer us up as sacrifices to the **Heuk-wang-ryeong**, using a pitiful scrap of provisions as leverage!”

……Incredible. When it came to stubborn, unyielding arguments, this man was a peerless master. Realizing that staying in his presence any longer would result in an actual duel with **Gong-son-pung**, I prepared to depart. Just as I turned, he seized the tunic of a nearby **Huk-do** subordinate and bellowed fiercely.

“We will never form an alliance with the **Baek-do**! Not with those golden-tongued, deceitful bastards!”

“**Gr—Great Hero**, I am not the one arguing with you!”

His furious shouting resonated through the tunnels for a long time as I distanced myself from the gathering place of the **Huk-do** forces. I scanned the vast cavern once more before retracing my steps to where my allies were waiting. Given the immense scale of the underground chamber, the journey took a considerable amount of time since I chose not to employ any swift movement techniques.

*‘They mentioned that every single offshoot tunnel aside from the primary path is being heavily patrolled…….’*

Sentries were posted at the three primary thoroughfares, though it appeared that practically no one utilized them. Instead, people were cautiously trickling out from the smaller, interconnected fissures. Righteous martial artists from the **Baek-do** emerged from sectors guarded by the **Huk-do**, and the reverse occurred as well, yet neither side immediately drew weapons against the other upon crossing paths.

“Was that wretched **Ju-an-pyeong** the only one intent on causing a bloody scene?”

To the contrary, basic medical aid was being administered to the wounded, however primitive, and individuals who could speak coherently were escorted to the leaders of the **Murim-dan** or the **Huk-do** alliance to exchange vital information.

Even so.

*‘The **Heuk-wang-ryeong**…….’*

The spectral rumor that **Gong-son-pung** claimed to have witnessed firsthand refused to leave my thoughts. Humans naturally invent folklore to bridge the gaps in their understanding when confronted with things they cannot comprehend. The vast majority of ghostly myths were created to bring order to the inexplicable. Thus, this legend of the **Heuk-wang-ryeong** was ultimately just a reflection of how completely baffling our current predicament truly was.

“To think an individual could survive inside these walls for two centuries……”

Having personally witnessed evidence of prolonged existence within the ancient tomb of the **Lady of Yue**, I could not dismiss the possibility entirely out of hand. However, such anomalies were strictly limited to extending one’s life within a confined boundary through heretical sorcery and specialized relics. It was a state of suspended animation—undead, yet not truly alive (*saeng*) nor entirely dead (*sa*). A walking corpse (*si*) forged from a manic fixation on retaining youth and allure. To project such a massive spell across an entire cavern system the size of a whole province? Such a feat would be impossible even for a legendary **Great Immortal**. If such magic were truly feasible, **Qin Shi Huang** would still be governing his empire today.

“Then what exactly is this **Heuk-wang-ryeong**?”

Furthermore, historical records showed that the **Sword Zenith** and the **Black King** possessed a profound, unbreakable bond during their prime. Regardless of how deeply he wished to safeguard the **Baek-do** Murim, the **Sword Zenith** would never have condemned his closest friend to a living burial. Ultimately, the proliferation of this elaborate tale merely proved that the martial artists here were paralyzed by overwhelming dread.

“The Wudang Sect……”

The Taoists of Wudang had fled into the depths, warning that a terrible fiend manifests wherever large groups assemble. Meanwhile, the factions occupying the Central Hall remained paralyzed, refusing to seek an exit out of sheer terror of the **Heuk-wang-ryeong**, even as starvation and injuries slowly claimed them. These incomprehensible variables intertwined, leaving my mind in a tangled knot.

“*Whew*.”

Perhaps because my focus wavered, a wave of deep physical exhaustion washed over me. Unable to safely enter a deep state of meditative breathing in this exposed area, I sat down on a random rock to inspect the secret martial manuals of the **Black King** that I had managed to secure.

[**Overlord’s Twelve Hands**]
[**Overlord’s Divine Fist**]

Though the **Black King** was predominantly renowned for his peerless saber arts during his lifetime, the caliber of his alternative disciplines was by no means inferior. Even a cursory glance at the [**Overlord’s Twelve Hands**] and the [**Overlord’s Divine Fist**] revealed an astonishing, profound internal energy woven into the texts. Despite my own deep mastery of the **Tae-eul-jin-gyeong**, which vastly augmented my capacity to comprehend alien martial styles, these manual pages contained advanced techniques so complex that their inner truths eluded immediate understanding.

“Is the **Overlord’s Divine Fist** the only art I can realistically deploy right now?”

Even then, I could only grasp the fundamental first three forms. I could scarcely fathom the catastrophic devastation I would be able to unleash once all fifteen stances were fully mastered. Assessing his combat philosophy, the style was remarkably direct, unembellished, and devastatingly practical. It managed to condense multiple profound insights into a single motion, utilizing postures that mirrored rudimentary fist techniques while yielding entirely different, lethal outcomes.

“He was truly an extraordinary master.”

Had his direct lineage survived and flourished through the generations, the traditional power dynamics of the **Five Sects, Two Chambers, and One Peak** within the **Huk-do** Murim would look entirely different today. Toward the concluding pages of the **Overlord’s Divine Fist** text, personal records detailing past sparring sessions were preserved.

[The **Sword Zenith** warped his blade trajectory in an underhanded manner to intercept the **Overlord’s Appearance**. This requires refinement.]
[The **Sword Zenith** deflected the **Overlord’s Moon-Gazing** utilizing a cowardly deflection. This requires refinement.]
[The **Sword Zenith** evaded the **Overlord’s Heaven-Gazing** via a deceptive feint. This requires refinement.]

“……Did this grandmaster truly possess no companion other than the **Sword Zenith**?”

Every single entry analyzing his martial exchanges featured the **Sword Zenith** as his sole adversary. Then again, perhaps the **Sword Zenith** was the solitary figure of that era capable of matching and surviving such overwhelming techniques. In any case, their bond was uniquely profound and forged on a foundation of absolute equality. Therefore, the rumor that the **Sword Zenith** ruthlessly entombed the **Black King** alive was entirely illogical.

“Then what does this phantom entity actually represent?”

I attempted to piece the puzzle together, but my cognitive faculties were failing me. My physical form and mental stamina were pushed past their absolute limits. Yet, despite my desperate need for slumber, my mind remained too restless to allow me to drift off.

“……It is time to return.”

Summoning the last of my resolve, I pushed myself off the stone floor and walked a considerable distance back to my companions. Though their camp was set up slightly apart from the main **Murim-dan** force, they had been allocated a space directly in the center of the righteous **Baek-do** faction. This was undoubtedly due to the shared presence of the Shaolin Temple and the prestigious Moyong Clan. Upon arriving, I immediately sensed a tense, fractured mood among my allies.

“What occurred here?”

I directed my question toward **Geum-pyo**, but he merely averted his gaze and lowered his head.

“It is of no consequence.”

I carefully read the faces of the remaining group members. Without exception, every single one of them looked visibly troubled and conflicted.

“Tell me what happened.”

“……”

Only in that tense silence did I notice a critical absence among us.

“Where has the Vice Hall Master of the Moyong Clan gone?”

He was nowhere to be found. **Geum-pyo** buried his chin even lower against his chest.

“**Geum-pyo-ya**?”

Breaking the silence, **Nam-hwa-seong** boomed out with an angry shout.

“That arrogant bastard openly insulted you, claiming you deliberately engineered the deaths of the Moyong Clan martial artists. Because of those words, he and **Geum-pyo** nearly came to blows.”

“……”

**Geum-pyo** muttered defensively, his voice tinged with bitter injustice.

“It isn’t as though **Sa-hyung** caused that tragedy intentionally. Besides, even the venerable monks of the Shaolin Temple perished in that chaos……”

“When I demanded to know if he expected us to be the ones who perished instead, he spat back that if we had died, no one would be questioning our loyalty. I lost my temper and demanded a formal duel right then and there.”

“**Nam-hwa-seong**, you challenged him?”

The Vice Hall Master of the Moyong Clan possessed a level of martial cultivation far beyond what **Nam-hwa-seong** could hope to match.

“*Damn right*, I did! I refuse to stand by and silently endure that kind of slander!”

While a part of me felt deeply touched by their fierce loyalty, a freezing wave of emotion seeped through from the remnants of my previous life’s memories. In that past existence, how many times had I unleashed that exact same bitter fury that the current Vice Hall Master was harboring now?

“Were you wounded in the altercation?”

“No.”

“……How did you escape unharmed?”

“What are you implying, you brat?”

“Where did the Vice Hall Master take himself?”

At that moment, a poised, distinct voice cut through from the perimeter.

“He departed to throw his lot in with the **Murim-dan**.”

It was **Moyong-seol** who had spoken.

“**Moyong So-jeo**.”

“Please accept my apologies for his shameful conduct. Deep down, he understands the truth perfectly well—that the Hall Master did not cause those losses maliciously.”

I found myself utterly unable to respond. I had been fully aware that heavy casualties would be incurred during our trek to the Central Hall. Furthermore, I had known with absolute certainty that the body count would only escalate as time pressed on. Yet, I had consciously made that grim decision regardless. I had refused to allow the **Yoseong-dang** to be destroyed for their sake.

“The rest of your family……”

“They have all perished. None survive save for the Vice Hall Master and myself……”

Only then did I shift my gaze toward the Shaolin contingent. Four familiar monks were missing from their ranks as well. In my single-minded determination to shield the **Yoseong-dang**, I had ultimately sacrificed far more lives.

“I am deeply sorry.”

Because I had executed the plan with full awareness of the fatal consequences, an immense weight settled into the pit of my stomach. In my previous incarnation, how many curses had I screamed at the commanding officers while throwing the blood-stained identity plaques of my fallen brothers at their feet? How fiercely had I despised those leaders who remained completely unbothered, never even blinking an eye at our loss? In those dark moments, I had desired to tear the generals apart with my bare hands far more than I wished death upon the Demonic Cult.

Did the **Moyong-seol** standing before me now harbor that exact same murderous resentment toward my person? The solitary phrase I could force past my lips was a repeat of before.

“I am so sorr……”

“Why do you continue to beg for forgiveness?”

She looked directly at me, her question catching me off guard.

“In that desperate moment, did we truly possess a superior path to take?”

“……No.”

The words that left her lips were entirely devoid of malice or bitter condemnation; instead, they were completely contrary to what I expected.

“Hall Master **Jin** preserved the survival of the Moyong Clan. Moreover, given the dire circumstances, you guided us using the most optimal strategy available.”

Her clear eyes locked onto mine with serene conviction.

“This is not a burden for the Hall Master to carry or apologize for. If anything, the duty falls on me to extend an apology for the disgraceful behavior of our Vice Hall Master.”

Within her calm gaze, there lay not a single trace of hidden spite or simmering hatred.

“Therefore, I believe the Hall Master has absolutely no reason to harbor this profound sense of remorse.”

Her gentle words offered solace not only to my past soul but to my present self as well. Even though she was fundamentally a different person from the **Moyong-seol** I had loved and lost in my previous life, she had managed to grant me a profound sense of salvation once more.

“Are your internal pathways stabilized?”

The crushing exhaustion weighing down my physical form suddenly felt significantly lighter. I offered a slow, involuntary nod of agreement.

“In that case, please allow yourself to rest. You look entirely spent.”

She offered a polite, shallow bow before turning on her heel to walk away. In a daze, I watched her retreating figure for a fleeting second before my consciousness completely failed me, and I collapsed into a deep slumber.

A span of three days drifted past. Our stagnant predicament showed no signs of improvement. The leadership of the **Murim-dan** continued to issue monotonous commands for everyone to hold their positions, still entirely paralyzed regarding their next course of action. Stragglers and remnants of various factions continued to trickle into the cavern. The wounded received nothing more than basic, rushed medical stabilization, and for some inexplicable reason, a constant stream of survivors was being ushered into the command tent where the leaders convened. This medical attention was strictly rudimentary, aimed at keeping people breathing rather than truly restoring them.

“The medicinal supplies provided by the Dang Clan are completely exhausted.”

The poisons and medicine experts had undoubtedly packed a massive stockpile of healing ingredients prior to the expedition, yet it proved entirely inadequate to sustain the massive crowd currently trapped within the Central Hall. It wasn’t merely the medical stocks that were depleted; our food reserves were dwindling at an alarming rate. Our immediate faction was facing a severe shortage of rations because we had consistently divided our meals to support the monks of the Shaolin Temple. Consequently, our daily food portions had already been slashed by half, and all physical movement was being strictly minimized to conserve strength.

On a night when the entire camp lay silent, utterly broken by starvation and festering wounds, a shadow moved.

“Hall Master **Jin**-nim……”

**Do-kwang-su** crept silently to my side, his voice a hushed whisper. A wave of irritation washed over me, and I knitted my brows tightly in annoyance.

“What do you want?”

The man cast a paranoid glance around the darkened cavern before stealthily extending his hand toward me.

“Please, consume this quickly.”

Resting in **Do-kwang-su**’s open palm were two **Byuk-gok-dan** and three thin strips of dried meat.

“Where did you acquire these?”

“……They are personal reserves I managed to hide away. Please, eat them before anyone notices.”

**Do-kwang-su** attempted to shove the provisions into my mouth, desperately trying to avoid the attention of the surrounding martial artists. I relented slightly, taking only a single **Byuk-gok-dan** and two of the jerky strips.

“Since you went to the trouble of smuggling these in, keep the rest hidden for yourself. We have no way of knowing how many more days we will remain trapped here.”

“Ah…… do not worry about me.”

To think that **Do-kwang-su** of all people would willingly share his scarce food with me. Walking this earth a second time truly exposed me to the most unexpected wonders.

Two additional days ground past. I had no concept of how long I had been asleep. My eyelids felt as heavy as a thousand *geun*, and a deep, radiating ache vibrated through every muscle in my body. Given that the miraculous vital energy of the **Ten-Thousand-Year Earth Bear** should have completely knit my flesh and bone by now, this level of lethargy indicated that my core essence was severely depleted and my overall physical state had deteriorated dramatically. Then again, considering I was subjected to endless waiting without proper sustenance, it was completely logical that my physical form showed zero signs of true recuperation. I fought to maintain a grip on my fading consciousness as it threatened to slip back into the dark.

“**Jin-so-un**! Hall Master **Jin**!! Force yourself awake!!”

A violent, frantic grip began shaking my shoulders.

“……**Nam-hwa-seong**, if you dare disturb my rest in this primitive manner ever again, I will personally throw you into the depths of the **Geum-ok**.”

“Are you mad?! I don’t care if you hold the title of Hall Master, you can’t just lock me away for that!”

“Then tell me, why have you disrupted my sleep?”

At my stern demand, the panic instantly flooded back into **Nam-hwa-seong**’s expression.

“An all-out battle—a massive conflict has just erupted.”

The lingering fog in my mind instantly burned away.

“Is it an assault by the Demonic Cult? Have the Jiangshi breached our perimeter?”

The enemy’s timing was incredibly rapid, far outstripping our tactical projections.

“What are the numbers of the invading force?”

**Nam-hwa-seong** frantically shook his head to deny it.

“No, you misunderstand. The bloodshed has started right here inside the Central Hall.”

“For what reason?”

“The forces of the **Murim-dan** have launched a coordinated assault against the **Huk-do** factions.”