Chapter 748: It’s Been a Long Time, Friend
Everyone’s gaze turned toward the sword resting against the white bones.
Compared to all the countless swords they had seen before, this single blade felt far more intense and overwhelming.
“Do not act recklessly!”
Even without the warning of the man in the iron mask, no one dared to rush forward. They had already experienced firsthand how terrifying the mechanisms in this place were.
Besides, even if someone were to seize the sword first, they would likely face the combined assault of the others.
Everyone sharpened their senses toward the sword, watching each other’s movements.
In that tension-filled atmosphere that could explode at any moment, the man in the iron mask pointed once again toward Geom Mugeuk.
“The young hero carrying the bag.”
“So my name has now officially become ‘the young hero carrying the bag,’ has it?”
“I refused to reveal my identity. How could I then demand to know another’s? That is why I call you so.”
“Then why did you call for me?”
After carefully glancing around the chamber, the man in the iron mask asked again.
“Do you sense any hidden mechanism in this place?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“Because you were the one who dismantled the previous mechanism. You said it was luck, but luck comes only to those prepared to seize it.”
Everyone’s eyes turned toward Geom Mugeuk, silently expecting an answer.
Even after learning that multiple Treasure Maps existed, and that these mechanisms had been built after the place known as the Sword Tomb was established, they still refused to give up.
Their greed and ambition were beyond what he could control.
What Geom Mugeuk truly wondered was this: if all this was a scheme by the ones behind it—
Then why had they involved these people at all?
To naturally draw him into this place?
Even without them, he would have entered here regardless. Then why scatter so many Treasure Maps just to lure others? Why stir up the entire Central Plains in the process?
Geom Mugeuk’s gaze shifted toward the sword draped across the white bones.
“In truth, obtaining that sword is easy.”
At his words, everyone’s faces showed surprise.
“The real problem will be what happens after one obtains it.”
After leaving those cryptic words, Geom Mugeuk slowly walked toward the skeleton at the center of the chamber.
Blood Heaven Blade Demon and One-Slash Sword Supreme watched in tense silence, ready to leap forward at the slightest sign of danger.
The mechanism they had faced earlier had been a masterpiece of engineering, one that must have cost an astronomical amount of money to construct. Who knew what other deadly traps lay hidden in this chamber?
Yet Geom Mugeuk was confident of his safety.
“There will likely be no mechanism attack here.”
At any moment, blades could have shot forth from ceiling or floor, but just as he predicted, no attack came even as he approached the white bones.
Geom Mugeuk did not immediately pick up the sword. Instead, he clasped his fists and paid his respects before the white bones.
“I do not know who you were in life—whether righteous or wicked, whether you entered this place like us today in search of treasure and perished, or for another reason altogether. I know nothing of that. But whoever you were, I believe it is wrong for anyone to use your remains for their schemes. Surely, they will pay for their sins. So, I ask that you cast away your resentment and rest in peace.”
The moment his words ended—
Crash.
The white bones crumbled apart.
A few startled gasps escaped the watchers. It almost seemed as though the bones had understood Geom Mugeuk’s words.
Just as Geom Mugeuk bent forward to pick up the sword—
Fwoosh.
He felt a faint breath of poisonous vapor rise from the remains and enter his body. It had no color, no scent; had he not been immune to all poisons, even he would not have realized he had been poisoned.
‘It’s the Violet Cloud True Qi Poison!’
He recognized it from his time studying various poisons while assisting the Poison King.
The Violet Cloud True Qi Poison was not one that killed instantly. The victim would not even realize they were poisoned until the moment they unleashed their inner energy to its extreme—then the poison would activate, turning the body purple, dulling movements, and tangling the flow of energy and blood.
It was a supreme poison that required years of time and an enormous fortune to create. Yet, to Geom Mugeuk—immune to all poisons—it had no effect whatsoever.
If the intention had been to kill him, they would have used the Formless Deadly Poison instead.
Just then, a faint voice transmission reached his ears.
–You’ve just been poisoned with a deadly toxin.
Geom Mugeuk slowly lifted the sword from atop the white bones and turned around.
Everyone was staring at him.
The voice that had spoken was neither that of the man in the iron mask nor of any swordsman he knew.
Geom Mugeuk sent his own voice transmission toward one of the martial artists standing among the group.
–How did you know I was poisoned?
The man he addressed appeared ordinary—an unremarkable middle-aged martial artist of average build, who had until now shown no presence whatsoever. He had seemed merely another treasure-hungry wanderer blending into the crowd.
The man’s eyes flickered.
–How did you know I was the one who spoke to you?
–Because you were the only one looking at me, not the sword.
–!
The man was truly shocked. He had never expected to be discovered for such a small detail.
In truth, that wasn’t how Geom Mugeuk had identified him. Even with his back turned, he could pinpoint the exact direction from which the voice transmission had come. His martial prowess was far beyond normal comprehension.
–Who are you?
Considering the man had warned him about the poison, he didn’t seem to be an enemy.
The man did not reveal his identity.
–I carry an antidote; if there is an opportunity, I will give it to you.
Geom Mugeuk could tell. The man not only knew that he was the Young Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, but he was also deeply connected to those who had created the mechanisms here. At the very least, he was someone who knew that poison had been arranged in those white bones.
Just then, one of the desperate martial artists cried out.
“Quickly, try drawing that sword!”
“Draw it!”
Geom Mugeuk slowly pulled the sword free. The revealed blade exhaled a cold chill. Even at a glance, it was clearly a treasured sword.
Characters boldly inscribed along the blade.
Soul-Severing.
It was the poisoned-inscribed blade of the peerless master Soul-Severing Guest, who was said to have entered the Sword Tomb long ago. Upon seeing the characters on the blade, the man who had exchanged the voice-transmission with Geom Mugeuk shouted.
“It’s the Soul-Severing Sword!”
He shouted, knowing full well that grabbing attention with greed could be unwise.
When it became clear the sword was the Soul-Severing Sword, many were stirred. The martial artists’ eyes burned with fervent desire.
So what if this place was a trap? If one could get out with such a treasured blade!
Geom Mugeuk poured cold water on that desire.
“There is a mechanism in this chamber more terrifying than the previous one.”
Startled by the sudden remark, everyone searched the surroundings. They inspected the walls and the floor, but no matter how hard they looked, they could find no hidden mechanism.
“Where is this mechanism?”
To the man in the iron mask’s question, Geom Mugeuk gave an answer no one expected.
“This mechanism is you.”
They wore expressions of bewilderment; Geom Mugeuk clarified what he meant.
“The greed of you who want this sword is the mechanism of this room.”
He meant that the bloody struggle to seize the sword itself functioned as the chamber’s mechanism.
Having fought brutal battles over Treasure Maps before, they were people capable of such slaughter, so his inference was not unfounded.
“Who will take this sword?”
All of them wanted to answer “me,” but no one spoke.
Geom Mugeuk asked the man in the iron mask.
“Since you guided us to the entrance of this Sword Tomb, should you take it? Or should I, who cracked the previous gate, take it? Or shall we fight and let the strongest take it?”
Silence followed. If the first person to hold the sword had not been Geom Mugeuk, a scramble might already have broken out.
The man in the iron mask asked Geom Mugeuk.
“And? What does the young hero carrying the bag think?”
Geom Mugeuk stared into the iron-masked man’s eye-holes and said.
“Let it be and leave. Let us leave this sword as it is, to spite those who devised such a vile scheme. Let us show them that we will not move according to their intentions. That is the way to defeat this chamber.”
Perhaps this place was far more difficult to overcome than the chambers they had passed before—for here, they had to break through the greed of those overflowing with avarice.
“If anyone has a better way, speak now.”
While everyone fell into brief contemplation, Ji Han’s voice transmission reached him.
–I found out where the scent was coming from. It was from that man wearing the iron mask.
Geom Mugeuk had suspected either the man in the iron mask or the swordsman clad in robes, but now it was confirmed—the mastermind was the man behind the mask. Of course. He was the one who had orchestrated the poison as well.
–Well done.
At Geom Mugeuk’s words of praise, Ji Han felt pleased. It was the first time since becoming his subordinate that he had accomplished a proper task.
Geom Mugeuk then sent another voice transmission to the man he had spoken with earlier.
–If you don’t wish to reveal who you are, then at least let us exchange names.
After a brief hesitation, the man replied.
–I am Danso Jin.
–I am Geom Mugeuk.
–I know.
As expected, the man already knew who he was.
–Then tell me one thing. Who is that swordsman wearing the mask over his face?
Geom Mugeuk suspected that if this Danso Jin knew the identity of the iron-masked man, he would likely also know who the masked swordsman was. Indeed, Danso Jin knew.
–He is someone from the Unorthodox Alliance.
Geom Mugeuk wasn’t surprised. Considering where they were, it was no wonder a high-ranking expert from the Unorthodox Alliance had appeared.
This was the tomb of Joo Ga-shin, known three hundred years ago as the Alliance Leader of the Unorthodox Alliance and the greatest master of the unorthodox path—the One-Sword of the Unorthodox.
The man in the iron mask was connected to the power behind all this, the swordsman from the Unorthodox Alliance.
Now, what remained was to determine which faction Danso Jin belonged to.
At that moment, the man in the iron mask made a decision.
“I will follow the young hero’s will. I agree that we cannot fight among ourselves over a single sword here.”
The others eventually followed his lead. It was no situation where one man’s greed could prevail alone.
“Then, let’s go.”
Just as they turned to head toward the door at the back—someone suddenly lunged toward the Soul-Severing Sword.
In an instant, the man who had seized the Soul-Severing Sword threw himself back toward the first chamber they had entered.
He could not resist. If only he could take this sword and escape through that door—if only!
But the Soul-Severing Sword severed the restraint from within his very soul.
“Foolish!”
The other martial artists surged toward him. They were men who could not bear to let another possess what they themselves could not have.
Three of them struck at him simultaneously. He failed to reach the exit in time, drew the Soul-Severing Sword, and swung it.
Clang!
The Soul-Severing Sword shattered the opponent’s blade in a single strike and sliced clean through his torso.
Pah! Paah!
The other two martial artists’ swords slashed his thigh and flank.
The man gritted his teeth and swung the Soul-Severing Sword once more, cutting down the one who had struck his thigh. Surrounded by ordinary blades, the Soul-Severing Sword unleashed tremendous power.
But his skill could not match the sword’s strength. Cutting down three men with the blade’s might was his limit.
Thunk—his movements froze as a sword pierced through his back. Yet even as he looked upon the Soul-Severing Sword, there was no regret in his eyes.
“…To have swung it once before dying—that’s enough.”
Uttering those last words, he fell lifeless to the ground.
“Damn fool!”
The martial artist who had killed him snatched up the Soul-Severing Sword and slid it into its sheath—
Then hurled himself toward the entrance they had come from. Seeing how every sword that clashed against it snapped apart, he too could not resist the temptation.
But he never got the chance to swing it.
Shwik.
A dagger flew like a flash of light, piercing his back.
It was thrown by the swordsman whose face bore the scar.
The fleeing man staggered and collapsed where he stood, dead.
His corpse, clutching the sword, looked eerily identical to the white bones that had first rested here.
When ages passed and another person found this place, they would see the very same sight once again.
No one else dared attempt to seize the sword.
The man in the iron mask opened the door to the next chamber.
Everyone gasped at the sight before them.
Inside, ‘martial artists’ were fighting one another—not real men, but life-sized puppets crafted with astonishing precision.
They looked so lifelike that it seemed as if real people were locked in battle.
At first glance, it appeared to be a reenactment of battles once fought within the Sword Tomb.
But it was not.
Several figures were assaulting one man together, and shockingly, the one being attacked was Geom Mugeuk.
Surrounding him were the puppets of those he had fought before—the Twelve Zodiac Kings.
The Wood King who had died at the Martial Alliance, Hwan Wang and Hwan Yeo who had perished at the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, the Battle King who had fallen from the Unorthodox Alliance, the Blood King who had died at the Northern Sea Ice Palace, the King of Killing who had been slain at the Golden Dragon Family, the Fist King who had died at the Golden Dragon Martial Hall, and the Dark King who had perished when attacking the Sky Flower Pavilion.
They were attacking Geom Mugeuk from all directions. From the Wood King’s body, wooden tendrils stretched forth, while from the portals opened by Hwan Wang and Hwan Yeo, evil spirits leapt out into the air.
The Battle King charged like a raging bull, and the Blood King’s blood splattered in all directions. As the Fist King’s fearsome punch shot forward, darkness spread around the palanquin upon which the Dark King sat, and from above that darkness, the King of Killing leapt down to strike at Geom Mugeuk.
Every single detail was crafted with astonishing delicacy and vividness. It truly felt as though a real battle were unfolding before their eyes.
Since all those figures had long been dead, these puppets seemed as though they had been created to commemorate the fallen Twelve Zodiac Kings.
But Geom Mugeuk’s surprise was not because his own effigy stood among them, nor because the surrounding puppets were the Twelve Zodiac Kings.
It was because a living man stood among those puppets.
So naturally blended among them, at first glance he seemed like one of the puppets himself.
He wore shabby martial robes, his hair tied back loosely, a worn iron sword at his waist, and bare feet upon the ground.
Among all the martial world, he was the one who best suited the Sword Tomb.
The Sword King, Ak Gunhak—who had been gazing at the puppets—turned toward Geom Mugeuk.
Smiling brightly, he greeted him. Hanging from his waist was the pair of shoes Geom Mugeuk had once given him as a gift.
“It’s been a long time, my friend.”
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