Chapter 40

Chapter 40
At the Ak Clan Sword Family (1)

Baek So-cheon made his way back toward Hyun-cheon-dae after stepping out of the brain prison.

Over at the open practice ground, Im Choong and Beon Saeng were hard at work, rehearsing the sword techniques that Baek So-cheon had personally passed down to them. Free from any official assignments for the time being, they poured every waking hour into polishing their blade craft.

Baek So-cheon paused along the perimeter, observing their movements in silence.

Im Choong performed at a fairly standard grade, whereas Beon Saeng displayed genuinely remarkable swordplay. An authentic, inborn gift for the martial path coursed through the young man. His habitual prattle, theatrical antics, and foolish chatter easily led observers to assume he was entirely detached from earnest cultivation, yet he secretly carried the instincts of a natural genius.

Stepping forward, Baek So-cheon began adjusting their forms. Whose martial growth would fail to accelerate under his direction? With every pointer he offered, their proficiency advanced in striking bounds.

“Keep at this pace, and you will break through to the following rank before long.”

Beon Saeng blinked, caught completely off guard by the observation.

“Wait, there is another rank beyond this?”

“Naturally.”

“Just how many tiers are there in total?”

“Somewhere around one hundred and eight?”

“Pfft, haha! Hearing big brother spin these grandiose tales again after all this time brings back such fond memories. Come now, drop the teasing—what is the genuine tally?”

“I am not joking in the slightest.”

“I actually trimmed the total down just to keep your spirits intact.”

“Aargh! You are deliberately heaping the 108 Earthly Desires right onto my back!”

It was merely Baek So-cheon’s playful way of nudging him forward, ensuring he stayed disciplined and refused to slack off.

Having bolstered Beon Saeng’s determination, Baek So-cheon shifted his attention to Im Choong.

“How are things proceeding on your end? Can you manage?”

“I am throwing all my will into it, yet this stiff frame of mine simply struggles to keep up.”

“Never force it. Calm, steady accumulation is what truly matters.”

“Understood, I shall engrave that into my thoughts.”

While Im Choong plainly lacked Beon Saeng’s sparkling talent, he possessed qualities the younger man had yet to develop: steadfast endurance and unyielding consistency. The mere thought of his household transformed even the most grueling physical trials into something entirely bearable.

Above all, because his son Chan yearned to make a name in the martial world, Im Choong desperately wanted to serve as an honorable milestone for the boy—a father truly worthy of pride.

Whenever exhaustion threatened to crush his spirit, Baek So-cheon’s earlier circumstances crossed his mind. Back when he was their age, Baek So-cheon had been rendered completely unable to walk. Yet now, the man soared like an unassailable force right before their eyes.

*If he could rise from that, I can endure this as well.*

Of course, he always kept one convenient justification in reserve.

*The years are piling on; this body is simply getting old.*

Even so, Im Choong treated that line of thought like a martial artist’s ultimate secret art, resolving to hold onto it solely as an absolute, desperate resort. He was determined to push through the pain and never fall behind the youthful Beon Saeng.

“Make sure to weave stamina conditioning into the routine as well.”

“Understood.”

Turning toward his office, Baek So-cheon called over his shoulder.

“Sharpen yourselves quickly! That way I can start loading you with real tasks!”

“Yes, sir!”

Filled with renewed vigor, the transformed Im Choong and Beon Saeng raised their weapons once more, plunging completely into their forms.

From that day forward, Baek So-cheon made regular, solitary visits to the brain prison.

He would set a jug of fine spirits right outside the bars and begin his training. Certain afternoons were dedicated purely to physical conditioning, while others were consumed by striking sequences of fists and kicks against the air.

“Mindless thrashing against empty space.”

“In this stifling world, I am simply conditioning myself to smash through it all.”

“The lineage of that striking method looks far from ordinary.”

The prisoner quickly recognized that Baek So-cheon’s fist style was no run-of-the-mill craft. Piqued by curiosity, he occasionally tossed out technical critique.

On this particular day, a specific stance drew his scrutiny once again.

“Should you not drop your hips lower on that transition?”

Humbly accepting the thought, Baek So-cheon tested the adjustment, dropping his center of balance.

“It produces an unnatural tension.”

“Endure the strain.”

“What is the principle behind it?”

“It allows you to burst into the ensuing motion with far greater explosive momentum.”

“Hrm.”

Baek So-cheon considered the logic. In terms of martial enlightenment, his own realm vastly overshadowed that of the demon.

Yet he never dismissed the captive’s observations lightly.

When a cultivator stands at the absolute zenith of heaven, where else does one seek instruction?

Baek So-cheon governed himself by two core principles.

First, to pursue ultimate perfection in every shape it took—whether through ancient manuals, living beings, or mundane occurrences. Even mastering the paramount combat arts throughout history was merely a means to that end, including any fragment of insight that might restore his ruined inner strength.

Second, to listen to advisors with an open mind.

As the common adage went, among any three wayfarers, one will surely be a teacher. An expert of this demon’s standing served as an exceptionally sharp sounding board.

Naturally, there was one vital premise: one must never allow external words to distort or confuse one’s foundational path.

A mere novice was simply an amateur; carelessly internalizing half-baked advice would only erode one’s established prowess. A true master had to elevate the critique to their own lofty plane and reconstruct the technique from the root.

Because of that, he weighed the demon’s remark with earnest deliberation.

“No. Even if it costs a fraction of speed, keeping this posture yields greater stability. Sinking further exposes the left ribcage far too much—the risk is simply excessive.”

“An ordinary foe would never notice such an opening.”

“If my own eyes fail to perceive it, then for all practical purposes, it does not exist.”

“A fair counter.”

Baek So-cheon readily yielded the point. If a minute flaw was visible solely to peerless masters, did it truly count in practical combat against an opponent blind to its existence?

He remained utterly motionless, sinking into a vast sea of internal contemplation.

Could a supposedly flawless pattern ever achieve absolute perfection? Should practical logic be discarded in pursuit of pure transcendence? If a balance had to be struck, which direction should he follow?

Whenever Baek So-cheon plunged into this depth of silent meditation, the demon held his tongue and quietly sipped his drink without causing any disturbance. Fiend though he was, he preserved that basic degree of martial courtesy.

After roughly half a shichen spent in deep reflection, Baek So-cheon’s face broke into a slight smile.

“Two jugs tomorrow.”

Another profound barrier of comprehension had been unlocked.

“Excellent, excellent.”

Having found no one to exchange high-level martial insights with for a long time, these continuous dialogues with the demon had proven immensely advantageous to Baek So-cheon.

When fifteen consecutive days had passed, Baek So-cheon spoke in a level tone.

“This will be the final time.”

The demon visibly flinched at the word.

“You will not return?”

“Indeed. I would enjoy exploring martial theories with you for months or even years, perhaps even eroding your stubborn loyalty, but my schedule does not grant me that luxury.”

The demon’s features twisted into deep shock, looking as if struck by lightning from a clear sky.

For fifteen days he had savored fine spirits every day; the sudden realization that his supply was vanishing struck him with intolerable dread.

“You planned this whole scheme from the start.”

“Draw whatever conclusions you wish. This is almost certainly our final exchange. Farewell. Given the lives we have led, neither of us is destined for paradise—we shall meet again in the underworld.”

Baek So-cheon turned around and began walking toward the corridor.

“What will you offer if I provide answers regarding the Alliance…?”

Baek So-cheon stopped and turned back.

“A jar of liquor every single day until your final breath.”

“You speak truly?”

“I give my oath.”

“Then we have a pact.”

In that brief instant, the demon questioned his own actions.

Was he truly surrendering decades of resolve merely for a taste of wine?

He had endured agonizing torment specifically to avoid betraying the Black Heaven Alliance Lord. Spilling secrets now would render a lifetime of absolute loyalty entirely worthless.

Yet an overwhelming exhaustion had settled into his soul… and his loyalty had deteriorated right alongside his vitality.

He fought against the bitter thought that his master had cast him aside. Instead, he chose to become the turncoat through his own will—treating that betrayal as his final, twisted expression of devotion.

Meanwhile, Baek So-cheon stepped back into position before him.

“What matters specifically pique your curiosity regarding the Black Heaven Alliance Lord?”

The demon was far more intrigued himself—what did this youth intend to extract from him?

Baek So-cheon immediately directed his first inquiry toward Yeom Hwa-sin’s physical anatomy.

“During our conclusive duel, the tip of my blade drove cleanly through his heart.”

“You did what?! Are you speaking the truth?”

Very few people across the realm were privy to the fine details of Baek So-cheon’s final clash with the master of the Black Heaven Alliance. Having been taken captive before that fateful battle occurred, the demon had remained completely unaware of the event.

“Yet his life did not fade. Do you know the cause?”

In that apocalyptic confrontation, Baek So-cheon had deployed every supreme art at his command, and Yeom Hwa-sin had answered each blow with equal ferocity.

At the decisive peak of the exchange, Baek So-cheon had grasped a razor-thin opening.

Pouring forth the entirety of his residual internal power, he had shattered his rival’s protective aura and driven cold iron through the chest. Even so, Yeom Hwa-sin survived the mortal strike and unleashed a devastating counterattack—shattering Baek So-cheon’s dantian into ruins.

“Why bring that up at this moment?”

The captive did not say he was ignorant; his wording revealed that he grasped the underlying truth.

“You lost the whole of your internal strength, did you not? Do you imagine I cannot see that you are confined to an ordinary frame?”

“Precisely so. That is why an answer is mandatory for me. That single outcome reduced me to this miserable condition. Why did your master walk away from the grave?”

Having cast aside his internal hesitation, the demon answered without delay.

“The lord of the Black Heaven Alliance was born with his heart situated away from the standard position.”

“Just as I suspected!”

He had long contemplated that possibility, but needed verification to confirm it was not some hidden mystic artifact or breathing method.

“Where is it situated?”

“If it avoids the left, it rests on the right. If it is not placed high, it sits lower down.”

“Give me the exact location!”

“I do not possess that knowledge. Do you believe a person of his stature would reveal his deepest vulnerability to anyone?”

The demon spoke without deceit.

Baek So-cheon brought the imposing image of Yeom Hwa-sin to the front of his memory.

Somewhere inside that colossal, mountain-like physique, the vital pulse remained concealed. If not the left side, did it reside on the right? If neither…

No common cultivator could fathom how grueling the feat of piercing that monstrous body with cold steel had been.

Still, focusing on the advantage: he had at least confirmed the left breast held no lethal significance.

He moved on to his second inquiry.

“Did the Black Heaven Alliance Lord cultivate soul subjugation arts?”

“The methods of spiritual control? For what reason do you ask?”

“That is none of your concern. Did he cultivate them or not?”

“He did. The Dark Spirit Control Technique. A supreme method resting at the peak of spiritual subjugation. However, rumors suggest the lord mastered it not to beguile his enemies, but to construct a fortress against those who attempted to manipulate his mind. His natural martial arts were already sufficiently overpowering without ever relying on such schemes.”

Baek So-cheon nodded in quiet comprehension.

“There is one final matter.”

“Speak.”

“Where can one locate Ban Yun-saeng at present?”

“Why search for him of all people?”

“You have no need to know.”

“You cannot seriously mean…”

A look of heavy suspicion settled over the demon’s face.

“You cannot genuinely place faith in that madman’s wild ramblings, can you? The man is completely insane.”

“If I do not resort to the methods of lunatics… my current predicament will never find a resolution.”

Staring hard into Baek So-cheon’s eyes, the captive finally relented. Now that his jaws had opened, holding back the rest seemed entirely pointless.

“Word had it that he sequestered himself deep inside the Qilian Mountains. Whether breath still remains in his frame, none can tell.”

The Qilian Mountains of Gansu—the heart of Black Heaven territory, situated directly along the approach toward the Jade Gate Pass and the western frontier.

“Understood. My inquiries conclude here. You have my thanks for speaking plainly. I shall see to it that your single jar arrives without fail every day.”

Just as Baek So-cheon turned away, the demon called out once more.

“Our supreme master will inevitably bring the whole of the martial world beneath his rule.”

“Still referring to him as ‘our master,’ are you?”

“You may mock me as a turncoat, yet the lord will understand my circumstances.”

“I would not place much confidence in that outcome. Savor your drinks while breath still stays with you—leave behind no regrets.”

The meaning was stark: having surrendered confidential secrets, his master would grant him no mercy. The demon was entirely powerless to refute that brutal reality.

Overcome with rising frustration, he bellowed after the young man’s receding back.

“See that you keep your word!”

While walking the path back toward Hyun-cheon-dae, the shrill, rapid clanging of the emergency bell suddenly tore through the open air—this was no routine training alarm, but a genuine summons to active combat.

Before long, a vanguard of mounted riders from the Iron Sword Unit burst forth in a thunderous gallop.

Baek So-cheon stepped toward the side of the road, tracking the cavalry with a focused gaze.

Leading the charge was none other than the Iron Sword Lord Chung Yang himself. Riding close among his ranks was Hwang Il-bi. For the commander of the entire unit to take the lead in person alongside a core squad captain could only signify a calamity of the highest order.

The full truth of the commotion became clear the instant he stepped back into Hyun-cheon-dae.

Sa-ma Il-jung was already present, waiting for his return.

“Captain Baek So-cheon.”

“From this point forward, I will be serving as the formal liaison between the Strategy Command and Captain Baek. It is a profound honor to make your acquaintance.”

There was not a trace of cheap flattery in the man’s posture; his reverence was completely authentic. He had actively petitioned Je-gal Hyeon for the privilege of securing this exact assignment. Before him stood the supreme legend occupying the very peak of the Murim Ranking Records. The mere act of exchanging words with such a figure sent an exhilarating tremor through Sa-ma Il-jung’s chest.

“I look forward to your assistance.”

“The pleasure is entirely mine.”

This fulfilled part of the arrangement Je-gal Hyeon had guaranteed: continuous access to the intelligence files of the central command.

“I just saw the Iron Sword Unit thunder away in an urgent deployment—what manner of disturbance has struck the Alliance?”

“A severe incident has erupted at the Ak Clan Sword Family.”

The full picture assembled itself in an instant. The prestigious Ak Clan Sword Family was none other than the ancestral lineage of the Murim Alliance Lord, Ak So-gun.