Chapter 33 — Hidden Place
‘…Is the Flowing Flower Sword… truly the supreme art left behind by Azure Cloud True Person?’
It was a question that had been crossing my mind more frequently lately.
Of course, I had not yet mastered the Flowing Flower Sword deeply enough to call it truly my own.
I could now execute four out of the five sword forms decently.
The final form still remained, but my conclusion at this point was—
‘It is certainly an excellent martial art, but not at the level where one could claim it as the greatest under heaven.’
For the final martial manual left behind by Azure Cloud True Person—the man said to have reached the very end of the sword path—it felt rather lacking.
At the same time, I couldn’t dismiss the possibility that it wasn’t his manual.
According to the historical records preserved in the Kunlun Sect, it was clearly stated that the Flowing Flower Sword was a martial art personally created and left behind by Azure Cloud True Person.
‘Something feels off. There must be something I’m missing…’
Could the problem be that I still hadn’t fully mastered it?
Would the hidden true essence of the Flowing Flower Sword only reveal itself once I perfected the final form?
Countless questions and doubts continued to chain together in my mind.
At that moment, someone interrupted my thoughts.
“Seriously, you’re putting way too much effort into pointless training.”
A sly voice came from behind me.
I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
I turned and respectfully bowed my head.
“Master, you’ve arrived.”
The owner of the voice was Jin Gwang-ung.
He held a wine bottle in his right hand and carried a light scent of alcohol, as if he had just taken a sip somewhere.
“What’s so great about swinging a sword all this time? You’d be better off sleeping some more. What, are you planning to ascend to immortality like Azure Cloud True Person? Kekeke.”
Though he spoke in a teasing, mocking tone, there was no particular malice in his voice.
I smiled and replied.
“Ascend to immortality? How could I dare dream of such a thing when my respected master has not yet done so? It would be utterly presumptuous for this disciple who must serve you.”
“What’s so special about ascending to immortality? Drinking a good cup of wine and feeling your spirits soar—that’s ascension right there.”
“As expected of Master. So you’ve been drinking every day to reach the realm of immortals.”
“That’s right. To reach the realm of immortals, one must first lighten the heart. Looks like you’ve finally reached a true understanding. Kekeke.”
Jin Gwang-ung shook his shoulders and laughed at my cheeky response.
He seemed to be in an even better mood than usual, probably thanks to the alcohol.
When I had first arrived at the Abandoned Martial Hall, Jin Gwang-ung had mostly left me to my own devices.
But lately, he had been hovering around me more often.
He would drop by while I was cleaning the hall, watch for a while, then leave, or approach me after training to throw in some pointless banter.
‘He does seem to regard me as his disciple now…’
However, Jin Gwang-ung never tried to teach me any martial arts.
At this point, it would be normal for a master to teach his disciple at least the basic forms of his own arts or at least one movement technique to help with growth.
Yet Jin Gwang-ung showed no sign of doing so.
In fact, it was the complete opposite.
“What kind of training is this? Just come drink with me.”
“Don’t get too worked up about martial training. Just do it moderately. Getting too strong will only shorten your lifespan.”
“All that talk about Kunlun being the bulwark of the Murim is nonsense. It’s just sweet talk from schemers who want you to die in their place against the Heavenly Demon Cult.”
He kept preaching his philosophy of life—stop training seriously and just live casually.
‘Is that why he has no disciples? But from what the Sect Leader said before, it seems like he had quite a few disciples around ten years ago…’
How could someone so reckless and eccentric have had disciples?
He was eccentric yet sly, possessed top-tier martial prowess, yet showed not even the slightest desire to teach his disciple.
Jin Gwang-ung was full of mysteries in many ways.
At that moment, Jin Gwang-ung shook his wine bottle and muttered,
“Anyway, take it easy. Don’t get drunk on some useless heroic spirit about training hard to contribute to the peace of the Murim.”
With those words, he walked off with unsteady, drunken steps toward his quarters.
After his figure completely disappeared, I refocused my mind.
‘Well, I’ll probably learn about that old man’s circumstances naturally someday.’
Various thoughts crossed my mind, but there was no need to dwell on them too deeply.
What mattered most to me right now was simple:
‘I need even greater power.’
Only then could I charge forward without hesitation along the path of revenge that lay ahead.
The Orthodox Alliance and Moyong Cheonhwi.
With my current strength, toppling such colossal powers was still far too distant a goal.
I turned my head.
Then I strode purposefully toward the Abandoned Martial Hall that filled my vision.
Hoping that something inside would help accelerate my path of revenge.
***
The interior of the Abandoned Martial Hall was as quiet as always.
It had once been a neglected place, covered in dust with no one to maintain it.
But after I started frequenting it, not a single speck of dust could be found—it was kept meticulously clean.
An old lantern hook still hung on one wall, and the lantern I had brought gave off a faint light.
It was dim, but enough to illuminate the spacious room.
That light quietly settled over the countless martial manuals filling the bookshelves.
Yet the manuals themselves carried the deep traces of time.
Worn covers, faded pages, and the unique scent found only in ancient books.
The aged atmosphere that permeated this space was the distinct mark of the Abandoned Martial Hall, long forgotten by everyone.
I approached the bookshelf and carefully pulled out one manual.
After steadying my breath, I opened it.
At the same time, a voice rang in my mind, and the characters inside the book seemed to come alive, instantly seeping into my consciousness.
[Flying Dragon Three Stars / Basic form structure is completely contradictory / Error cannot be resolved]
Along with the short message, an evaluation of the manual appeared in my vision.
“Huu… Another dud.”
I let out a light sigh and continued checking the next manuals.
[Drunken Fire Heart Method / A heart method that operates internal energy using the power of alcohol / Internal energy control impossible]
[Moonlight Five Swords / Sword manual with completely twisted connections between forms / Error cannot be resolved]
[Ghostly Step / Movement technique with fundamentally flawed internal energy flow design / Error cannot be resolved]
Perhaps because I had already examined hundreds of manuals from the Abandoned Martial Hall, my understanding of martial arts had improved significantly?
I was now able to check the evaluation results much faster than before.
With each manual I opened, the contents were automatically organized in my mind, and I could instantly judge its level and whether it could be restored.
There were extremely few worth learning.
Most were complete failures that perfectly fit the term “trash.”
Even if a manual had fixable errors, its level was noticeably lower than the arts I had already learned, so there was no point in studying it.
I continued checking the manuals without pause.
Finally, I examined the very last one located at the deepest part of the Abandoned Martial Hall.
[… / Internal energy pathways damaged / Disposal recommended]
I closed the book and lay flat on the floor, staring up at the ceiling.
“Haa… I’ve finally gone through all of them.”
I had checked every single martial manual in the Abandoned Martial Hall, but there were surprisingly few worth using.
The Kunlun Azure Soul Scripture, Void Step, and Flowing Flower Sword.
These three that I had already learned were by far the best.
Everything else offered little help by my current standards.
‘First draw was the best draw, huh… I thought I’d at least find one or two more usable ones.’
A bitter feeling rose from deep within my heart.
I lay there blankly for a long time, staring at the ceiling.
“…Ha.”
Overwhelmed by a sense of emptiness, I rolled onto my side and let out a sigh.
It was then that I noticed something.
“…Hm?”
At the very bottom where the wall met the floor, a tiny metallic piece caught a flicker of light.
To be precise, it was on the lower wooden panel of the wall.
A needle-thin metal tip protruded like a small dot from the gap in the old wooden planks between the pillars.
‘Was that always there?’
I had swept and cleaned the walls of the Abandoned Martial Hall many times, but that spot had been hidden behind an old bookshelf.
It was only visible now because I was lying on the floor with a low line of sight.
I slowly got up and approached the lower section of the wall.
The metal tip was so close to the floor that I had to kneel and lower my body to examine it properly.
I knelt down and peered beneath the panel.
The small metal tip embedded in the gap of the old timber glinted faintly under the lantern light.
I steadied my breathing, carefully reached out with my fingertips, and gently pressed the metal tip.
Click.
A heavy metallic sound echoed from inside the wall as mechanisms engaged.
Immediately after—
Rumble… Ruuuuumble…!
The floor panel right beside me split open to both sides like a hidden door and slowly slid away.
It was as if a secret entrance that someone had meticulously concealed long ago was opening once more after a long silence.
And what lay beyond was—
A damp, cold stone staircase leading underground.
“What the hell is this…?”
I instinctively held my breath.
The energy rising from below was more than just the smell of age.
It was cold, clammy, and carried an indescribable presence.
I turned my head toward the sword I had leaned against the nearby wall.
I hesitated for a moment, but eventually reached out and grasped it firmly.
After securing the scabbard at my waist, I slowly took a step toward the entrance of the stairs.
‘…What exactly is down there?’
I gripped the sword hilt tighter.
It felt as though the air and dust that had slept deep below for a long time were slowly stirring.
It wasn’t a sound or visible movement.
It was the heavy silence of a space untouched by anyone for hundreds of years finally beginning to break.
“……”
I steadied my breathing.
Then I quietly looked down into the deep darkness.