Chapter 30

Chapter 30
Another Peerless Martial Art Manual of All Ages (1)

An elderly man worked his plot of land beneath the punishing glare of the sun. The air was heavy enough to draw a constant stream of perspiration from anyone standing idle, yet the old laborer appeared entirely untroubled by the oppressive heat as he methodically cleared away wild weeds.

Though his features belonged to someone well past seventy, his posture remained remarkably upright and sturdy. He lowered himself to the earth and rose again with effortless rhythm, barely breaking a sweat.

A set of footsteps neared, and a voice called out across the plot.

“Isn’t the heat overwhelming out here?”

The figure strolling along the narrow footpath bordering the farm was Baek So-cheon.

Without straightening his posture or pausing his hands, the elder answered, “What kind of person claims to be a tiller of the earth if he shies away from labor just because the weather is warm?”

“A genuine farmer wouldn’t be breaking his back under such a blazing sun.”

The old man’s fingers froze for a fraction of a second before continuing their task. “Your discernment is sharp. In truth, I am still quite green when it comes to farming.”

“What occupation occupied your days before this?”

“The younger generation these days rarely pokes their noses into another person’s affairs, yet your curiosity toward an unfamiliar face seems boundless.”

“We can hardly be considered unfamiliar to each other.”

At that statement, the elder stopped pulling weeds entirely. He slowly rose to his full height and leveled a direct gaze upon Baek So-cheon.

“Have we encountered each other before?”

“This marks our initial meeting. Nevertheless, we share a rather thorough awareness of each other’s reputation. Isn’t that right, Gwang-sal?”

Standing before him was the very Gwang-sal whom Baek So-cheon had previously urged Cheon-geuk to seek out and arrange a meeting with.

In his prime, Gwang-sal had stood among the paramount assassins of the underworld. His techniques were peerless, and his deadly instincts were honed to such razor precision that he regularly triumphed in contracts that lay far beyond normal capabilities. He was a legendary shadow who had brought up younger successors before officially ending his bloody career, washing his hands clean in a golden basin.

Following that retirement, he vanished entirely from the martial realm, settling into a hidden refuge known to no living soul. Only the supreme leader of the Sal-su Yeon-maeng retained knowledge of his whereabouts.

“Identify yourself.”

“Baek So-cheon.”

Gwang-sal tilted his head, pondering the syllables. “Baek So-cheon? Across the vast expanse of the jianghu, there must be hundreds, if not thousands, who answer to that name…”

A split second later, a tremor of shock ran through Gwang-sal. While innumerable men might carry that name across the land, the singular, towering legend associated with it instantly leaped into his mind.

“The War God?”

“Indeed. That would be me.”

“It is utterly impossible for you to appear so youthful. Could it be you have accomplished the miracle of age reversal?”

“Merely blessed with a juvenile appearance.”

Gwang-sal found the explanation difficult to digest, his fingers tightening noticeably around the handle of his hand sickle. “Who revealed the path to my dwelling?”

At that precise moment, a quiet presence formed behind him as Cheon-geuk materialized.

“I did.”

“Alliance Lord?”

“It has been far too long, Elder.” Cheon-geuk bent forward in a respectful, formal bow.

Gwang-sal had already laid down his weapons and retreated from the jianghu before Cheon-geuk ascended to lead the union. Because she had been designated as the direct disciple and heir of the preceding master, he had held a tender affection for her, treating her much like his own granddaughter.

After entering his quiet exile, word had reached him of the previous lord’s demise and Cheon-geuk’s assumption of leadership. Having held little love or respect for the late master, he had chosen to remain undisturbed in his seclusion. Yet had Cheon-geuk been the one to lose her life, he would have unearthed his deadly arts without hesitation to seek retribution.

“Forgive me. Personal circumstances gave me no choice but to lead him here.”

“Please converse with me with the same casual warmth you once showed.”

“Now that you bear the mantle of the Alliance Lord, propriety prevents me from doing so.”

Gwang-sal shifted his gaze back toward Baek So-cheon. “Then there is no question about it—you truly are the War God.” The old memories of his former life resurfaced in his mind. “Had I not cast aside the blade of assassination, I would have pursued your contract myself.”

The staggering three-million-nyang bounty announced by the Black Heaven Alliance had been declared after he had already stepped down from the underworld.

“Had you done so, this vegetable patch would be thoroughly buried under wild grass by now.”

A cold, dry chuckle escaped Gwang-sal’s throat. “The profession of a blade-for-hire is truly a dreadful thing. Even after stepping away for over a decade, a mere mention still quickens the pulse. So, what brings you to my door?”

“I have come to take back that which you stole.”

A visible flinch shook Gwang-sal once again. “Stole? What kind of baseless accusation is that?”

“Did you take several items? As far as I know, there is only one.”

The lines of Gwang-sal’s face hardened with visible tension. “Throughout my entire career of taking lives, I never pilfered from my targets.”

“Save for that single exception.”

Though he stood as an unrivaled grandmaster of assassination, artful lying was not among his talents. The disquiet in his heart was plain for all to see. His eyes darted nervously toward Cheon-geuk, who stood alongside Baek So-cheon.

“This is the first I have heard of such an affair.” Cheon-geuk was visibly bewildered as well; she had harbored no inkling that Baek So-cheon sought out Gwang-sal simply to confront him over a stolen artifact.

Letting out a weary sigh, Gwang-sal finally asked, “How did you manage to uncover this secret?” He had no desire to construct falsehoods in the presence of Cheon-geuk.

“I intend to cultivate it.”

Listening to their conversation, Cheon-geuk’s intrigue deepened. ‘Cultivate it? Then the stolen object is a manual of martial arts? Exactly what kind of technique did Elder Gwang-sal take for himself?’

Gwang-sal reflected quietly for a moment before turning his steps toward the small cottage. “Wait right here.”

“Very well.”

The item Gwang-sal retrieved and brought out was a singular manual.

It bore the name Beon-cheon Gu-gwon.

This was the peerless personal art belonging to Fist King Yi Su-hyeon, an absolute giant who swept unchallenged across the Central Plains three centuries ago. Throughout that era, it was celebrated far and wide as the Peerless Fist Art of All Ages.

Tragically, its majestic standing did not survive into subsequent eras. Not a single practitioner after him succeeded in mastering its supreme heights, causing the technique to fade gradually into total obscurity. Various explanations drifted among the martial sects: some argued that its mysteries could only be unlocked by peerless geniuses, while others claimed the manuscript itself was fundamentally incomplete.

Across an entire lifetime steeped in blood and murder, Gwang-sal had reached for a target’s belonging only once—and that single offense was this very Beon-cheon Gu-gwon.

“How did such knowledge come into your hands?”

“Mere coincidence.”

In truth, the late Assassin King, whom Baek So-cheon had slain, had surrendered the secret while desperately groveling to preserve his life. Baek So-cheon had no idea how that man had learned of the theft, but the former leader had readily betrayed his retired predecessor in a bid to rescue himself.

Baek So-cheon felt no need to disclose this ugly truth. Cheon-geuk had been that man’s disciple, while Gwang-sal was his senior. Spilling such wretched realities would only inflict unnecessary pain upon those left behind.

“Why would an individual lacking even a sliver of internal energy possess any desire for this text?”

“Even if you acquire it, attempting to wield it without inner power will be an excruciating trial.”

“I will find a way to handle that.”

“You are truly committed to this!”

Baek So-cheon offered an earnest, firm nod. His objective in grasping the Beon-cheon Gu-gwon was not simply to increase the striking power of his physical punches. He sought to perceive and internalize entirely new martial principles by dissecting a method renowned across history as peerless.

“Then why have you waited until this moment to seek it out?”

“In those days, I had no requirement for it…”

When he took the life of the previous Assassin King, widespread warfare consumed the realm, and he stood as the supreme ruler under heaven. Bare-handed forms—especially those completely detached from swordsmanship—did not merit a shred of his attention.

“My circumstances require it now.”

The manuals Baek So-cheon typically pored over all shared that very same title of being peerless across all ages.

Among them was the Bu-dong Myeong-wang Sim-beop, a treasured scripture he had secured while standing at the very summit of his strength. He had scrutinized its formulas in the hopes of reconstructing his broken dantian and restoring his internal force, though no tangible results had manifested so far.

Crossing paths with Cheon-geuk once again had jogged his memory regarding the Beon-cheon Gu-gwon tucked away in Gwang-sal’s care. He had earlier made offhand remarks about abandoning the sword, and he had genuinely relished crushing the assassins of the Black Water with bare knuckles. Reconnecting with Cheon-geuk naturally brought Gwang-sal to the forefront of his thoughts.

It was undeniably an accidental progression of events, yet he preferred to recognize it as the hand of fate. His fierce determination to break through his physical limits had never wavered. Knowing that an overnight transformation of his bone structure would never occur in his sleep, he chose to stake his hopes upon these legendary martial legacies. By immersing himself within their boundless profundity, he might eventually unearth the secret to reviving his dormant dantian.

“Is this truly what you wish to hold?”

“Yes.”

Baek So-cheon glanced sideways at Cheon-geuk. “Surrender it not on my behalf, but for the sake of your Alliance Lord standing beside me.”

Cheon-geuk cried out in startled annoyance. “Why must you drag my person into your scheme!”

“Who else would serve?”

“What?”

“You happen to be the sole individual I place my confidence in at present. Release the manual for her sake.”

Just as Cheon-geuk opened her lips to object once more, Gwang-sal cut in. “Very well. I shall surrender it to you.”

“My thanks.”

Cheon-geuk protested with intense shock. “Please, no! Do not give it away merely on my account!”

Regardless of her words, the manual had already passed safely into Baek So-cheon’s hands.

Of the four peerless martial legacies belonging to the era—three preserved upon written parchment, and one passed down through living flesh—he had now claimed two written texts and held precise knowledge of where the others lay hidden. Securing them would prove no trivial feat, yet he was determined to gather every last one.

There was a distinct reason Gwang-sal parted with the manual with such little resistance. For years, this priceless treasure had been a source of agonizing torment. Having stolen it during a fleeting moment of greed, safely ridding himself of the book had proven an insurmountable dilemma.

It had entered his life far too late for him to cultivate, and attempting to sell it would yield vast fortunes while completely destroying his quiet seclusion—rumors of him peddling a legendary manual would bring swarms of martial artists straight to his farm. It was far too extraordinary to simply rot in the dirt, yet he possessed no successor worthy of inheriting such an art. Added to that was the enduring humiliation of knowing it represented the single blot upon his spotless reputation—it had become nothing less than a cursed millstone around his neck.

Then Baek So-cheon had appeared before his eyes. Had the man arrived unattended, Gwang-sal would never have dreamed of yielding it. Yet with Cheon-geuk present at his side, he could finally let it go.

“I place two conditions upon this exchange instead.”

“State them.”

“Engrave every word into your memory, and then reduce the book to ashes.”

It was clearly an effort to wipe clean the single stain upon his honor.

“A simple enough task. What is the second?”

“Provide thorough protection and care for our Alliance Lord.”

Cheon-geuk looked up in surprise, her heart filled with gratitude that he would voice such protective concern.

Baek So-cheon inclined his head. “For the moment, she remains the one attending to my needs. Nevertheless, I accept your condition.”

“Then my mind is at ease. With the War God holding such a manual, the tales echoing through the jianghu will surely be thrilling. Hahaha!” Gwang-sal gave a boisterous, relieved laugh, feeling the oppressive weight fall away from his spirit.

Cheon-geuk took her leave with a respectful farewell. “I am deeply sorry, Elder.”

“Speak not of apologies. You have lifted a lifelong shackle from my shoulders.”

“Please look after yourself and preserve your health.”

“May good fortune accompany you as well, Alliance Lord—take utmost care.”

With that, Baek So-cheon and Cheon-geuk departed.

Inside the carriage carrying them back, Cheon-geuk broke the quiet. “Are you truly determined to master a fist art?”

“Indeed.”

“I cannot picture someone relying on bare fists without internal power. Would not a blade be far more advantageous?”

“A sword possesses unavoidable limits.”

Facing adversaries of the Black Water or someone of Cheon Yang-ho’s caliber could be handled through raw physical finesse. But when clashing against peak masters and those beyond, engaging in combat without internal force was equivalent to walking a razor-sharp wire suspended over a lethal drop.

“Do not fist arts suffer from the very same restriction? In truth, the limitations are bound to be even harsher.”

“Why pursue it then?”

“Because it is an avenue I have never walked.”

The remark sounded casual on the surface, yet it held staggering depth—particularly coming from a martial grandmaster of his stature. A new journey undertaken by such an individual carried profound weight.

A quiet thrill of expectation stirred inside her. A man who once stood supreme across the world was now cultivating an ancient fist technique. What magnificent form would the Beon-cheon Gu-gwon take once mastered by his hands?

Looking out through the carriage window, Cheon-geuk finally voiced the thoughts she had kept locked inside. “Ever since I took the mantle of the Assassin King, I have continually followed every trace of your news. I always believed you would rise above your fate. That you would effortlessly govern the seat of the Bi-gak lord even without internal power, just as you once effortlessly commanded me.”

Following a quiet pause, Baek So-cheon offered a simple reply. “What other path was there for me?”

“Something must have transpired, hasn’t it?”

“Nothing of the sort. Merely… once the power was gone, every single matter felt exhausting and troublesome.”

“I know that cannot be the reason.”

“Cease placing me upon such an impossible pedestal. It only burdens a man.”

Signaling the end of their conversation, Baek So-cheon lowered his gaze and began perusing the text before him.

Cheon-geuk, swallowing the words that lingered on her tongue, averted her face toward the opposite glass.

‘Place anyone on a pedestal? You are the only person in the world who could ever warrant such esteem.’

By the time the carriage arrived at Mun-seong, Baek So-cheon stepped down from the cabin and immediately thrust the tome into her hands.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Reduce it to nothing using your Sam-mae Jin-hwa.”

Her eyes widened in pure astonishment. “You have committed the entire manual to memory already?”

“How were you even aware that I could execute Sam-mae Jin-hwa?”

“The subtle cadence of your lightness technique gives it away plainly. Make haste and incinerate it. Otherwise, I might find myself inclined to sell it off.”

Struck with admiration for his astonishing memory and sharp perception, she concentrated her energy and summoned the Sam-mae Jin-hwa.

Whoosh!

Vibrant flames erupted, devouring the manual in the palm of her hand. Right before her eyes, he had faithfully upheld his vow to Gwang-sal.

Cheon-geuk silently reaffirmed her earlier conviction regarding the man.

‘When someone possesses brilliance like this—how could anyone possibly help but hold him in awe?’