Chapter 381
The atmosphere was heavy.
'How many days has it been since I came to this place?'
During all that long time, had there ever been a single moment when he felt such a heavy mood? That thought crossed his mind.
The current atmosphere was utterly depressing.
Sagan quietly turned his head toward the outside of the hut.
Swoooooosh.
'It's raining here too.'
Just like in the world of stories.
Guwangqushen kept his mouth tightly shut. Apart from the gourd in his hand repeatedly moving back and forth to his lips, he showed no other words or actions.
The heavy atmosphere was weighing down on Sagan.
"Then in the end, Wei San-ho was the son of the Great Demon Emperor?"
"I don't know."
Guwangqushen shook his head.
"I can only guess that it's so. I couldn't ask, and I couldn't hear."
"..."
"Don't be mistaken. Everything I'm saying comes from what I heard, saw, and felt. In the end, I can only speak of what I saw from my perspective. I cannot know all the truths of the world."
"But aren't you the one who knows the most truths of the world, Divine Beggar?"
"That's also true."
Guwangqushen readily acknowledged Sagan's words.
There would be few who knew more of the world's countless histories than he did. From his days as a Small Beggar, he had experienced so many things. Moreover, having stayed by the side of Wei Yan-ho, who could be called the center of history, he knew facts that others did not.
'I knew too much.'
Truth doesn't only bring benefits. Sometimes there are truths that one really doesn't want to know. There was once a time when he enjoyed dealing with information. But soon he would inevitably learn.
How painful it was to know the many hidden sides of the world.
"I would rather not have known."
Sagan bit his lips.
For him to continue questioning now was no different from digging into wounds that Guwangqushen didn't want to remember. But he had to ask. And he had to know.
Because seeing the hidden side of the world and conveying it was his job.
"What about Wei Yan-ho? What about Gwanghwi Mujon?"
"…I don't know what to say."
Guwangqushen scratched his head.
"He was calmer than expected, more passionate than expected, and more extreme than I thought?"
"What does that mean…?"
"It's difficult to explain what kind of reaction he showed. Well, it must have been complicated. There was nothing he could do. It was impossible to immediately chase after them and bring back Wei San-ho, and he couldn't just sit there in a daze."
"That would be so."
"He did request rescue from the Righteous Martial Alliance, but… he wasn't proactive about it. In fact, Wei Yan-ho probably knew too. He knew that the Righteous Martial Alliance wouldn't charge into the Demonic Cult's main base for Wei San-ho's sake. In the end, it could only end with denouncing the Demonic Cult."
"It couldn't be helped. Moreover…"
Sagan carefully closed his mouth.
If the Righteous Martial Alliance got involved in that matter, Wei San-ho's identity would inevitably spread throughout the world. He would have wanted to avoid that situation.
"But it's strange. To think that the Divine Hand Master would just let such an extraordinary incident pass."
"He didn't try to let it pass. With that man's intuition, there's no way he would have just let it go. It's just that other matters arose."
"Other matters?"
"You should know about it too, shouldn't you?"
"…Ah!"
Just as Sagan was about to say something, the Divine Beggar opened his mouth.
"While the Divine Hand Master's attention was directed elsewhere, quite a problem was occurring here as well."
"What?"
The Divine Beggar let out a deep sigh.
"Wei Yan-ho, who couldn't do this or that, eventually started doing the obvious thing."
"The obvious thing?"
"Yes, training."
* * *
The sword flows slowly.
Very slowly.
So slowly that one might wonder several times whether that sword was actually moving.
Jang-il was staring at that sword tip.
"Ugh…"
A groan escaped without him realizing it.
Looking at that sword tip made him feel like he was literally going to pass out.
The sword that had been pointing downward in the morning hadn't even reached chest level by noon. At a glance… no, even when looking closely, it appeared completely still.
But that sword was definitely moving. So minutely that it couldn't be distinguished by the eye, yet constantly moving without stopping for even a moment.
"…Can you do that?"
"It's difficult."
Musan shook his head as if there was nothing to think about.
Simply put, it was just slowly lifting a sword. But how many people could do that movement over several shijin?
It wasn't about stopping and lifting repeatedly.
One must be still yet moving.
"Isn't Stillness Within Movement Shaolin's specialty?"
"That can't even be called Stillness Within Movement."
"Huh?"
"Because the movement isn't simply movement. Don't you understand?"
"…What do you mean?"
"Amitabha."
Musan repeatedly chanted the Buddha's name.
"Just moving that slowly can be called superior martial learning. The human body can never move that precisely. But that's not all. Look closely, and feel."
"Feel what?"
"The aura."
"Aura?"
At Musan's words that seemed like grasping at clouds, Jang-il opened his eyes wide.
'What am I supposed to feel?'
Only after sharpening his qi sense and carefully observing Wei Yan-ho could Jang-il understand what Musan was saying.
It was changing.
It wasn't just the sword tip that was changing. The aura emanating from Wei Yan-ho's body was also changing moment by moment.
An aura that had been swift became gentle at some point, and a gentle aura became heavy at some point.
'So it wasn't simply moving slowly?'
Jang-il's face hardened stiffly.
It was changing. If the body's aura was changing, naturally the sword tip would also be changing. It wasn't just about moving slowly. That slow sword tip was constantly changing and changing again even at this very moment.
"What a monstrous guy."
He didn't know what all of that meant. It was difficult for Jang-il's level to understand. But he could fully understand how difficult that was.
Drip, drip.
Sweat flowing from his forehead dripped down his chin to the floor. The sweat that flowed down was moistening the floor thoroughly. To exaggerate a bit, it seemed like a small pond had formed from sweat.
That sight felt very strange.
Jang-il had never once seen Wei Yan-ho sweat. Wei Yan-ho was like a cat. On hot days, the place he was in was the coolest place, and on cold days, the place he was in was the warmest place.
Wasn't Wei Yan-ho someone who had always solved everything by moving his body minimally even when incidents arose? The sight of such a person sweating profusely was awkward beyond measure.
"It would be more difficult than you can imagine."
"Hm?"
Peng Dao-ji spoke with a hardened face.
"I've tried similar training. I really thought I was going to die."
"The Dull Sword?"
"That's right."
Peng Dao-ji's eyes even contained awe.
Training isn't something that can be accomplished with will alone.
The human body has limits. Just because one's level is high or will is strong doesn't mean one can endure more. Only those who have abused their bodies through endless repetition can withstand higher levels of pain and pressure.
The load that Wei Yan-ho was currently bearing was at a level that Peng Dao-ji couldn't even dare to imagine. That meant Wei Yan-ho had been doing training that Peng Dao-ji couldn't even dream of since long ago.
That lazy bum.
'To float leisurely on water, one must move desperately underwater.'
Although Wei Yan-ho was currently showing an utterly lazy appearance, his martial prowess couldn't have just fallen from heaven. The fact that he too had gone through hellish training was newly realized by Peng Dao-ji.
'There's no royal road.'
If there were a path to go quickly, no one would walk the slow path. In other words, the path everyone walks is precisely the fastest path. And the path everyone walks was simple.
Effort.
Right now, Wei Yan-ho was walking that path.
"Even if you stare until your eyes fall out, there won't be anything to gain."
"Mmm…"
Musan also nodded.
"What could a young child who has just barely grasped a sword learn from watching the elders' martial exchanges? It would only ruin your eyes for nothing. We should just do what we need to do."
"Amitabha. Your words are correct."
"You, always Amitabha at any time or place. Damn monk. Someone who curses when he gets into fights."
"Amitabha."
"Agh."
Jang-il showed his irritation.
'It's not like anyone doesn't want to become stronger.'
It wasn't only Wei Yan-ho who felt powerless before the absolute force of the Demonic Cult's Hierarch. At least Wei Yan-ho had fought hand-to-hand with him, but they couldn't even cross swords with the Mad Blood Demon.
They weren't even qualified to do so.
From the Mad Blood Demon's perspective, being held back by demons who were nothing more than small fry and unable to do anything was the reality they faced.
"Let's train."
"Mm."
"It's not a sin to be powerless right now. What would be a sin is knowing one's powerlessness yet not trying to escape from that powerlessness."
Jang-il's eyes widened.
"Since when have you spoken so well?"
"..."
Peng Dao-ji squeezed his eyes shut.
Was that really what mattered right now?
"Hah."
Jang-il let out a hollow breath.
"Seeing you grease your tongue, and that monk muttering, the shock must have been great indeed."
"What about you then?"
At Peng Dao-ji's words, Jang-il shut his mouth.
What about me?
Me?
Jang-il gritted his teeth.
Since that moment, it felt like a ball of fire had entered his stomach. Even when he tried to endure it, even when he tried not to pay attention to it, his stomach kept bubbling and boiling.
Who could remain calm?
Having felt that terrible sense of powerlessness.
And having learned that those he thought he would face in some distant future could appear before them as enemies at any moment.
To bow his head with the expectation that he could face them decades in the future?
'I can't do that.'
"I may not have money, but don't I have pride!"
If you thought that just because someone was a beggar, they would bow to everyone and live, that would be a mistake. Jang-il was the type of person who could beg for alms but couldn't bend his neck.
"Yes, let's try it. Let's clash! I'll crush you guys first."
"Hmm, the will is good, but isn't it overambitious?"
"What, you bastard?"
"Amitabha. Knowing one's position is the beginning of development, isn't it?"
"Fine! I'll show you that where you are is hell. Follow me, monk!"
As Jang-il staggered forward, Musan followed behind him with a gentle smile.
But only Peng Dao-ji didn't follow them and remained quietly looking at Wei Yan-ho.
'Training?'
One doubt arose.
Was that really training?
One thought flashed through Peng Dao-ji's mind. Perhaps it was too excessive… and dangerous a thought.