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Translator: Vine
Chapter Title: Uninvited Guest VS Uninvited Guest (1)
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During the time Wei Jiliang spent in the Demonic Cult, each day was a monotonous string of boredom.
Of course, the path of the sword was endless, and he had always considered himself fulfilled simply by honing his skills day after day.
Yet, for orthodox martial arts, there was the realm of Hyun-gyeong.
For demonic arts, the state of Tal-ma. He had made no progress, to the point of wondering if such realms truly existed.
But now, his days had become quite fulfilling.
Certainly, the intensity of his training had decreased compared to before.
However, ever since he met the Life and Death Divine Doctor, whom he could truly call a kindred spirit,
he had been able to share hobbies, and even have discussions about the Three Kingdoms.
Delving medically into the structure of the body, which he had only vaguely considered before, was also a pleasure.
Furthermore, how could it not be enjoyable to nurture a young man overflowing with more talent and potential than any martial artist he had ever seen?
That was why,
Wei Jiliang had readily accepted the request to help with his Simsang-nongeom practice.
***
However,
sometimes, that talent felt like an immense burden.
After one round of combat,
Wei Jiliang threw off the Simsang-nongeom device, his expression one of utter astonishment.
"…You, how did you do that just now?"
"Huh? Oh, this?"
Jin Sihyeon effortlessly conjured flames with his right hand and ice flowers with his left.
"It just… worked?"
"…?"
Wei Jiliang was momentarily speechless.
"It just worked?"
That was an art absolutely impossible for an ordinary person.
Even if one could contain different types of *qi*,
to not only wield different *qi* with each hand but also simultaneously use martial arts of entirely different natures was a matter of a different dimension altogether.
The most famous example was Wudang's Yang-ui Simgong.
Or perhaps the Right Sword Left Palm of the Wanjeol Maje, an ancient martial art of the Heavenly Demonic Cult, said to have been lost long ago, would be similar.
Mulling over the thought, "No way…",
Wei Jiliang said, "Come with me for a moment."
"Yes, sir."
Wei Jiliang called Jin Sihyeon over and had him stand in the training ground.
"Can you try using sword arts with your right hand and palm arts with your left?"
"Hmm."
Jin Sihyeon tilted his head for a moment, then swung his sword and spread his palm.
Wei Jiliang's eyes widened.
Though the movements themselves were twisted and clumsy,
sword *qi* and palm force were clearly emitted simultaneously.
"Like this, you mean?"
"…Why does that work?"
Right Sword Left Palm… Could it be Ruri…?
No, that couldn't be.
It was an art that even the current Cult Leader hadn't mastered.
"Your movements aren't natural yet. Try it a bit more."
"Yes, sir."
Jin Sihyeon didn't complain and obediently continued to swing his sword and perform palm arts.
His awkward movements gradually began to become more natural.
After about fifteen minutes,
"Stop. That's enough."
At Wei Jiliang's words, Jin Sihyeon, who had been slightly frowning as a headache crept up on him, ceased his movements.
"Wow, using this cleanly is really hard. I underestimated dual-wielding a bit, but now I'm starting to respect dual-wielders."
"…You really are a madman."
"No, why the cursing?"
How could that paltry dual-wielding be compared to this?
How could merely following given forms with two swords be the same as simultaneously pioneering two entirely new paths?
Wei Jiliang, unable to believe that such profound martial arts could blossom from the hands of someone who didn't even understand such a principle, finally let out a deep, pent-up sigh.
And then,
"…Honestly, what you just did is an art that even I would find difficult to replicate. How did you do it?"
"Hmm. Just a moment."
Jin Sihyeon pondered briefly.
Soon, he sheathed his sword and began waving his arms in the air.
"To put it simply, it's like this: drawing a circle with one hand, and a square with the other."
Watching his movements flow as naturally as water, Wei Jiliang tried to follow.
Sadly, his hands could only draw either a circle or a square, not both simultaneously.
"Pfft."
*Thwack!*
"Ack!"
Wei Jiliang's scabbard, swung like lightning, struck Jin Sihyeon's skull.
It was punishment for daring to let his lips twitch at the sight of his venerable master.
"Hone that technique well. As much as possible, never use it in real combat, only in Simsang-nongeom. A day will surely come when it proves useful."
"Hmm, that's just… Ack! No violence! Down with violence!"
He was truly a foolish disciple who just earned himself another beating.
As he mercilessly struck him with the scabbard, Wei Jiliang suddenly let out a chuckle.
His body was one, yet his mind seemed split in two; if one were to not borrow the name of an ancient martial art,
"If I were to name it, 'Bunsimgong' (Divided Mind Art) would be appropriate."
If Jin Sihyeon continued to grow at this pace,
he might threaten him not in ten years, but within three.
It was a welcome thought.
***
A week passed, and the final day of the long preliminaries arrived.
"Ugh, I'm dizzy."
It felt as though the message, "Excessive game use can interfere with normal daily life," was flashing before his eyes.
It had been fine when his tier was low.
Silver, then Gold, and now Platinum.
Around Platinum, he kept getting matched with ranked players, so every single game was a hardcore match.
Still,
[Alias: Samseonggano]
[Record: 76 matches, 73 wins, 3 losses (Win Rate 96.05%)]
[Current Rank 1 / Platinum 1751 points]
"Hehehe, hehehe."
A satisfied laugh naturally escaped him at his impressive results.
Of course, instead of achieving an undefeated streak, he had a slightly ignominious record of three losses, but each had a story behind it.
The first of his humiliating defeats was a forced tribute due to oppression and persecution.
[Lupika / ❗❗❗Samseonggano🤬 I'm looking for this dog's real info, pikachu❗❗❗ (11)]
A cold sweat ran down his spine when he saw the post on the forum.
Seriously.
Who on earth puts a bounty on someone on a forum just because they got teabagged in a game?
He hadn't told anyone his Simsang-nongeom alias yet.
But just in case his alias became public,
knowing Ruri's temper, she'd probably fly over immediately, trying to stand on her tiptoes with her stubby legs to choke him.
So, when they were matched again,
he played a "reception game" for her, making it as unnoticeable as possible.
After winning, she was so thrilled, her non-existent chest supposedly heaving, as she shot "Cheonma Death Beams" at his coldly fallen corpse, celebrating. It was… hard to describe.
He thought that despite her perpetually sullen face, her emotional expressions were surprisingly diverse.
In any case, it seemed to have appeased her, as no more bounties appeared on the forum afterward.
Of the remaining two losses, one was to Sister Seol.
Unlike the One-Night Dream Child, whose conscience seemed to have overflowed right along with her chest,
Sister Seol's physique was unmistakable, rendering anonymous participation pointless. There couldn't possibly be two people in the Central Plains who used dual swords, ice arts, and shot "bang-bang" with sword techniques.
Icicles poured out of her sword tip like bullets.
And the Plum Blossom Sword Art I'd seen before.
If I had to pick the least satisfying mod among those installed, it would undoubtedly be the "Flashy Martial Arts Effects" mod.
When I fought that Mount Hua Sect guy before, it wasn't a metaphor; plum blossom fragrance truly permeated the air, and plum blossoms truly scattered, making me almost lose my composure.
If I'd known that, I would've joined the Mount Hua Sect myself.
Anyway,
I didn't lose due to skill.
After that incident, a heart demon would surge up whenever I saw Sister Seol, and I'd momentarily fix my gaze around her chest, only to be struck by an unexpected blow.
Soft and yielding.
Smooth and tender.
*Ping*…
A flawless memory sometimes torments a person like this…
The last of the three losses.
I hated to admit it, but I truly lost due to a difference in skill.
My opponent was a bald guy.
Not just an ordinary bald guy, but a super bald guy.
At first, I let my guard down because he was cosplaying as a primitive, unarmed martial artist.
But I got caught up in his reckless offensive, as he fully absorbed my sword *qi* with his forearm and then closed the distance.
His body was ridiculously tough.
Even after I neatly delivered a stab to his chest, where anyone else would have been split in half and died, he just dripped a few drops of blood.
Still, it wasn't quite Indestructible Vajra Body.
Maybe a One-Part Indestructible Body? It was an immense external martial art of that caliber.
Then, the Hundred Steps Divine Fist landed squarely on my jaw, leading to my defeat.
I was incredibly frustrated.
But I felt like if I went at it again, I'd get caught in the same pace, so I requested help from the person I knew who was best at slicing off Orthodox faction necks.
That was Sword Demon Master.
Receiving aid from the Demonic Cult to counter Orthodox faction secret techniques…
Expressed like that, it felt a little too much like treason—no, not treason to the country, so perhaps "faction-treason."
Would the pride of the Orthodox faction feed me a Great Elixir Pill?
If you think about it,
that bald guy probably already gorged himself on a Great Elixir Pill.
It was absurd for someone like that to participate in the tournament, trying to pick up another one.
After completing my self-justification, my mind felt at ease.
"Brother Jin, did you have smooth sailing today as well?"
"Hehe. I feel like victory is within my grasp."
"Of course you do, haha. I think I'll be able to make it to the main competition too."
I exchanged light pleasantries with Yunhak, my preliminary running mate.
That Yongtaek bastard, unable to break his habits, was running an illegal gambling ring, dodging Sister Seol's eyes.
"I'll be going back to the main residence for a bit."
"Alright then."
Still, thanks to the secret technique that Sword Demon Master had given me the key to, the Bunsimgong, I was able to defeat opponents who seemed stronger than me. I should buy him a good bottle of liquor as a gift.
A man who understood righteousness and principle.
That was me.
***
Having spent a fortune to buy a bottle of 10-year-aged Kongfu Jiajiu, which he tied to his waist, he leisurely made his way to his main residence.
Without rest, he continued to train, channeling fire *qi* into his right hand and ice *qi* into his left.
Even in moments of dire peril,
I could simultaneously recall the soft, large, mountainous feeling that pressed against my solar plexus, the grand valley revealed between torn compression bandages, the small hill that fit perfectly in my palm when I first touched it, and the fertile plains of Naju where Gyeon Hwon once reigned.
However, even with my top-tier multitasking ability, I couldn't help but get a headache when operating two types of *qi* simultaneously.
So, I needed to constantly practice like this in my spare time to get accustomed to it.
Isn't a diligent genius cooler than a lazy one?
"Mommy, why is that big brother flapping around like that? Is he stupid?"
"Shhh. Don't use such bad words."
…
A diligent genius.
Undaunted by the slander, he walked leisurely, repeating his genius hand movements.
As he got closer to his main residence, a faint tingling sensation ran down his spine, and he felt a physically noisy presence.
Was it a day for a trade caravan?
"Gasp."
Peering with his Honwol Sinan, he saw one martial artist at the early stage of Hwagyeong, whose powerful *qi* was almost comparable to Father Chicken's.
And the people lined up behind him included three Transcendent masters and five Peak masters.
It was a mighty presence, as if the elite forces of one of the Nine Great Sects and One Alliance had mobilized.
It probably wasn't an attack event or anything like that.
I hastily ran to the main gate.
I didn't know who they were, but I figured I'd be better at dealing with martial artists than anyone else in the manor.
Fortunately, what he saw at the main gate were clearly Orthodox faction martial artists, and specifically, Daoist martial artists.
From the Taiji symbol embroidered on their sleeves, he could guess they were Wudang Sect martial artists—not Taeguk Warriors…
And the person at the very front was…
"This junior of the martial world, Jin Sihyeon, greets the Wudang Sect Leader. May I ask what brings you to my residence…?"
No.
Why is the Wudang Sect Leader suddenly here?
His name, no, his Daoist title, was True Man Taeheo, wasn't it?
"Primordial Heavenly Venerable. Are you Jin Sihyeon?"
True Man Taeheo, a Daoist who looked incredibly fierce, like someone whose physiognomy suited a Great Demonic Lord, fixed his gaze on me.
He's scary.
"I'll get straight to the point. Did you participate in Simsang-nongeom? And is your alias perhaps—"
His words suddenly cut off.
True Man Taeheo's already intimidating face twisted as if he had met a sworn enemy.
Wondering if he'd seen something he shouldn't, I turned around.
"Oh. Isn't that Taeheo-ja? Long time no see. Have your skills improved at all?"
Was it just his luck that Old Man Frame had gone out for a leisurely stroll today,
and emerged alongside the Life and Death Divine Doctor to greet True Man Taeheo.
Ah.
Now that I think about it.
I definitely looked it up on the wiki last time.
The one who killed the previous Wudang Sect Leader during the Orthodox-Demonic War was…
"…Sword Demon. Why are you here?"
A deeply suppressed rage subtly permeated True Man Taeheo's voice.
Hmm.
I'm screwed.