Chapter 78

Yeon Mujin, who’d been crossing Flying Swallow Manor’s wall with his light-footwork skill, shrugged off his night robe when he saw the entrance to Heavenly Martial Manor.

Anyone who thinks thievery is just sneaking around in a night robe is an amateur. Stealth has its limits. A true master thief does more than avoid the eye.

The sound of Yeon Mujin’s footsteps shifted as he moved. He eased his straightened back, narrowed his brow to alter his expression, and strapped the greatsword he’d borrowed from Yang Gwan-wol to his waist instead of his usual blade. Finally, he pulled on a red-and-black robe and looked every inch the eccentric wanderer of the martial underworld.

“Grandma’s reverse-use technique is always right.” It was the reverse-use method—the reverse-use horse—that he relied on repeatedly. If he ever had the chance in this life, he’d visit her. She was so elusive no one knew where she’d gone or what she was doing.

Anyway.

Sneaking into Heavenly Martial Manor was easier than one might think. Why? Because it was full of people. Unlike other manors, Heavenly Martial Manor—the Bukgung family’s estate—had the most retainers and a loose, free atmosphere. Bukgung Yeong-noh, the owner, didn’t manage people tightly; unless something became a major problem, he tended not to interfere with brawls or quarrels inside the manor.

Among the warriors who followed Heavenly Martial Manor were many proud ones who didn’t even heed the housemaster’s words. Corpses were carried out several times a month, so the warriors didn’t know one another well.

“Stop right there.”

A warrior guarding the entrance halted Yeon Mujin.

“What is it?”

“I don’t recognize your face. Give me your name and affiliation.”

If it had been another manor, he’d have been turned away then and there. The reverse-use technique disguises you as another person; it doesn’t create a nonexistent identity. But here—at Heavenly Martial Manor—one trick did work.

Sleeng!

Yeon Mujin drew the broadsword at his waist and swung without hesitation.

Kaaang!

The startled guard hurriedly drew his weapon to defend himself.

“What are you doing!”

“You insolently doubted my identity. I’ll make your neck my identity token.”

The guard bristled, but Yeon Mujin did not flinch. He played the part of a haughty, heedless master of a fringe school perfectly. Another guard watching the scene restrained his comrade; from his manner he seemed higher ranking.

“You may enter. If you act like this again, I’ll report you to the Manor Lord.”

“Hmph! Do you think I fear some Heavenly Martial Manor Lord?”

He said it, then sheathed his sword at once.

“Why did you just let him in!” another guard protested from behind Yeon Mujin.

“You idiot! Do you think a sane person would cause a commotion in Heavenly Martial Manor? From now on, if someone picks a fight with you, draws a weapon suddenly, or stares silently, just make way. Such people are all guests of Heavenly Martial Manor.”

No one would target Heavenly Martial Manor unless they were out of their minds. So everyone who came was treated as a guest. This miraculous logic held true here—Heavenly Martial Manor.

You might ask what happens if things go wrong and you’re caught? If you’re caught, you get killed. What’s different? After all, the conveniences of a regression come from places like this. There are things ordinary people won’t casually do because they value their lives. When one’s life is at stake, anyone hesitates at reckless acts.

But not me. After repeating regression about seven times, life becomes surprisingly trivial. When life becomes trivial, you can do things others cannot. Like now.

…What? Have I gathered thirty years of internal qi? You’d say it’s the same—if I don’t gather it, I still die? In truth, that’s right. If I died now, it’d be a senseless death. I haven’t gathered thirty years of internal qi yet. After enough regressions, dying and living blur together.

Once you’re inside Heavenly Martial Manor, you’ve passed the first gate. Sneaking into the Heavenly Martial repository was even easier. Why? There were no guards in the repository. It sat left alone in a corner of the manor.

Yeon Mujin walked through the manor and used his stealth technique again to melt into the darkness. As he expected, there were no people near the Heavenly Martial vault.

You’re wondering if a vault storing the world’s martial arts books and divine weapons could be so lax? It can. The entrance to the Heavenly Martial vault is a special mechanism that not just anyone can enter.

The vault consisted of corridors leading to a large inner wing. A door at the corridor’s entrance prevented outsiders from peeking in, and inside hung night-lights that illuminated the space. These night-lights were expensive, but anyone bold enough to come wouldn’t bother with them; they’d aim for the inner wing.

And there was the entrance to the problematic wing.

“Long time no see.”

Yeon Mujin stepped forward and traced the wing’s entrance with his finger. A firmly closed stone wall met his touch. To the eye it was simple stone, but it could never be opened by force.

How do I know? Of course I tried.

He remembered with a sting the time he’d broken that door, grabbed treasures, and been swarmed by Heavenly Martial Manor’s monsters. You can never open this door by ordinary means. That’s why nobody breaks into the lone Heavenly Martial vault.

This door can only be opened by the first young master. Protrusions and indentations carved the entrance. At first glance it looked hacked by a blade; on closer inspection, it wasn’t. The grooves and ridges began on the corridor wall, passed through the door, and continued to the opposite wall in a single line. At some points the marks were shallow, at others deep, yet they flowed continuously, undulating without end.

This was the only key to opening the door: the sword forms of the young master’s martial art, the High Warmth Blade. The Heavenly Martial vault opens only when the martial technique is executed exactly along these traces. It was the rabbit hole Bukgung Yeong-noh had hidden.

“Alright, alright.”

Yeon Mujin drew the broadsword from his waist. Borrowing the blade from Yang Gwan-wol without permission wasn’t just for disguise. By sight this seemed the sword most similar to the second young master’s blade.

“It’s been a while; I don’t know if it’ll work.”

Across the murim world, only one second young master knows the Blade technique—only one. Why? Because the family from which the High Warmth Blade originated was wiped out by Heavenly Martial Manor. The Yi Gong brought that technique and developed it by pushing warriors through it. “Pushed them through” wasn’t just talk. The Second Young Master killed everyone who knew the forms of the High Warmth Blade. He wanted his martial art to be his alone. A madman.

But Bukgung Yeong-noh would never know that the High Warmth Blade had been endlessly refined and that there was one more person in the world who knew its forms.

Ka-ga-gak!

The blade struck the wall, echoing through the corridor.

Oh dear, be careful. No need to attract attention for nothing, Yeon Mujin muttered under his breath. He was not Yeon Mujin now but Bukgung Yeong-noh, manor lord of the Bukgung family’s Heavenly Martial Manor. The reverse-use mindset helped even at times like this.

‘Place the blade, the form is like letters; even without following the marks with my eyes, if I follow the letters in my mind the path will open.’

The sword, which he’d begun to draw with a creak, suddenly picked up speed. Bending moves, flowing moves, and sweeping moves combined into forms, and the forms gathered into a binding. In his mind he clearly saw Bukgung Yeong-noh wielding the blade. Yeon Mujin remembered that image and unfolded it through his body exactly as it had been.

For things one loves and hates, you never truly forget. Was his feeling for his former lord love or hatred? He couldn’t say. It had been too long since he’d labeled such things.

You must turn your back on those you served. You must betray the things you trusted. Even when everyone forgot Yeon Mujin, Yeon Mujin remembered them. This repetition wasn’t pleasant. Was having no lingering attachment to life a sign of being tired?

“You’re pathetic, Mujin.”

As he executed the sword forms, he couldn’t help but mutter that. He thought he’d thrown all his cheap sentiments into the future, but some still remained. This was the truly frightening thing. More than life-risking fights, it was these cheap sentiments. Fighting hurts the body, but sentiment hurts the heart. You can’t move forward while clutching a wounded heart.

‘Tear it all off. You must throw it away.’

Ka-ga-gak—

His sword reached the end of the trace.

Drdrdrdr—

The repository door began to open slowly.

Yeon Mujin sheathed his sword and stepped inside.

Unlike the bleak outside, the repository’s interior was lavishly decorated. He—though he didn’t look it—secretly liked extravagance. The vault branched into many paths, but there was no worry about getting lost; friendly nameplates were carved above each entrance.

Sword Hall. Here lay countless famous swords forgotten by the murim world. It was the place most warriors would covet, yet it was the cleanest—Bukgung Yeong-noh disliked swords, after all.

Next to it was Blade Hall. The Blade Room was twice as wide and larger than the Sword Hall. The weapons Bukgung Yeong-noh primarily used were blades, and the ones he collected most were blades.

Next came the Spear Chamber, then the Clothing Storage, then the Martial Pavilion… Yeon Mujin skimmed the nameplates in order and finally headed to the last branch. On it was inscribed:

Nameless Vault.

The item he sought was there.

“Captain Yeon, it’s a race against time now. We must move before Drunken Flower Manor does,” Bukgung Yoon said.

“Are you referring to the Zhuge Family and the Hwangbo Family?” Yeon Mujin asked.

“Yes. Now that the plan to swallow Flying Swallow Manor whole failed, our Fifth Young Master’s next move will surely be Shandong. He’ll try to approach those two families first and recruit them.”

“That’s as clear as day.”

“So there’s no time. We need to arrive at least an hour before Brother and make contact with the two families…”

“Manor Lord.”

“Yes?”

Yeon Mujin held back Bukgung Yoon, who was stepping forward excitedly.

“According to Chun-sik’s informant, the Fifth Young Master has already left for Shandong.”

“What!”

“It’s already too late. We planned to leave last night, but it’s your fault you weren’t here, Captain Yeon! Where on earth did you go?” Bukgung Yoon snapped.

“Hmm…” Yeon Mujin couldn’t exactly say he’d been busy stealing.

“That’s not important. Since we’re already late, let’s plan a strategy to win favor with the two families.”

Bukgung Yoon bit her nails. “Something that could win the families’ favor… The only thing that comes to mind is the Green Field and Sunny Breeze. To the Zhuge and Hwangbo families, that Green Field and Sunny Breeze is quite significant, right? But we can’t just get it immediately…”

At that moment Yeon Mujin fumbled something out of his bosom.

“What are you doing?”

“Actually, there’s no need to worry. This is the strategy.”

Bukgung Yoon looked at what he’d taken out and asked again, “What’s that?”

“It’s the Green Field and Sunny Breeze.”

“What?”

“What are you doing? There’s no time—let’s go now, to Shandong.”

“…What did you just say?”