I Obtained Guan Yu's Martial Arts - Chapter 7

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Obtained Guan Yu’s Martial Skills — Episode 007
Who is the Victor (2)
Crackle—
A dark night. Beneath a sky where even the moonlight lay hidden behind clouds, a single campfire burned with tireless devotion, casting its glow all around.
Kindling stacked atop a dilapidated manor, flames dancing their hunger upon the wood.
It was a sight rarely seen in ordinary dwellings.
No one in their right mind would set fire to the middle of an overgrown courtyard.
Yet the stubborn young man with white-streaked brows who had lit this blaze gave no thought to such trivialities.
He would abandon this place soon enough anyway, and it was merely one of many borrowed houses he passed through in his flight—nothing more.
“Suppose it’s time to move on from here.”
Mak Pyeong, known as Xiao Se Mo, frowned at the flames.
“Damn. It’s a shame I didn’t get to taste that one.”
By rights, he should have taken to the road last night.
But the eldest daughter of the Unseong Trading Clan’s leader—who styled herself as “the greatest”—had kept catching him by the heels.
She bore an uncanny resemblance to one he’d ravished before, and this stirred in him a certain base hunger.
Of course, with so many pursuing him, the sensible choice was to flee at once.
But Mak Pyeong had always insisted on taking every woman he desired.
To leave without her felt like abandoning something precious.
“Try again?”
His gaze turned northwest, toward the tall pavilion rising there.
The five-story structure was visible even from this distance—it belonged to the Unseong Trading Clan.
“What if I kill quickly and take her? Could anything really go wrong?”
In this backwater hole called Unseong City, the strongest were no more than First Realm, and there were only two of them.
For a man like Mak Pyeong, stuck at the tail end of the Lower Realm, it was perfect hunting ground.
Everyone else lay beneath his foot, and when it came to escape, he was second to none.
“Hmm. I’m torn on this.”
Mak Pyeong clicked his tongue in frustration.
“No. They’ve doubled the guard. It won’t be easy. I’ll aim for next time.”
Though Mak Pyeong had reached the pinnacle of the Lower Realm, taking on dozens of Lower Realm warriors would be taxing.
True, he had a hidden trump card that could win the day, but the cost in blood would be steep.
“Ugh.”
Frustrated, Mak Pyeong flopped backward onto the ground.
“When the hell are these bastards showing up?”
He was waiting for disciples of the Ha O Moon.
They were supposed to bring him the location of his next hideout.
“Hurry it up! Let’s move!”
Mak Pyeong shouted at the crumbling manor, his voice carrying loud and clear.
He felt no concern that someone might hear.
All the common folk within a radius of several hundred paces had already stopped breathing.
About twenty, maybe?
Truthfully, he couldn’t remember the exact number.
One doesn’t count insects while crushing them underfoot.
Tsk.
Sensing movement, Mak Pyeong’s eyes turned toward the entrance.
“I’ve got to hand it to those Ha O Moon slugs—lazy bastards, the lot of them.”
Even as he muttered his grievances, Mak Pyeong’s footsteps froze.
“What are you?”
The figure that stepped into the manor at Eun Pyeong Won was not one of the Ha O Moon’s men.
A towering frame, over six feet, with a frame as solid and compact as stone.
The man with whiskers grown beneath his jaw was unmistakably a martial master.
The killing intent blazing from his eyes and the oppressive weight of his presence proved it.
“Where did you come from?”
Even as the man—a full head taller than himself—appeared with a silver Eon Wol Do in hand, Mak Pyeong remained unfazed.
The aura he felt from the man told him this one was beneath him in skill.
“Pathetic. They send me a nobody like you? Do they think so little of me?”
The cruel smile playing at Mak Pyeong’s lips deepened.
From the man’s rough, unrefined aura, he could tell this one had only just stepped into the Lower Realm.
Someone standing at the threshold of the First Realm, as he was, would be no match for him.
Hmm.
Turning his head to survey the surroundings, Mak Pyeong tilted it slightly to one side.
“You didn’t come alone, surely?”
Guan Hui tightened his grip on the Eon Wol Do instead of answering.
“You think you can take me by yourself? Don’t make me laugh.”
Mak Pyeong let out a scoff and rose to his feet with easy grace.
“Look, I’m telling you this nicely — get out of here. I’m not in the mood to paint myself with the blood of your men.”
Mak Pyeong’s expression was indifferent.
Guan Hui raised the Eon Wol Do to his chest, watching him.
“Guan Seo-wol.”
“……?”
“The name of my daughter, ravished by you and left butchered in your wake.”
“Ah. So you came for revenge?”
The corners of Mak Pyeong’s mouth twitched, then spread into a grin.
“There’ve been so many I can barely keep track. Was she someone special to you or something?”
“She was a retainer of our Guan Clan. A sincere girl, she was.”
Guan Seo-wol had been one of the few among the Guan household who matched Guan Hui in age.
A woman who understood his efforts better than anyone.
For Guan Hui, she had been the one person, the only friend to whom he could bare his heart.
“You violated her, then murdered her.”
Screee—
Beneath the moonlight, the Eon Wol Do blazed with a cold, silvery sheen.
“Did I? Didn’t seem to enjoy it much, then. Usually I remember the good ones. Heheheh.”
“Today you’ll pay for that with your life.”
“Pfft. You?”
Just as scorn filled the corners of Mak Pyeong’s mouth—
Boom!—
Guan Hui, his skin flushed the color of red pepper, surged forward like a thunderbolt.
“……!?”
The speed was so tremendous that even Mak Pyeong lost sight of the movement for an instant.
Despite his massive frame, he moved like lightning itself.
“What—what is this!?”
Mak Pyeong hurriedly retreated, trying to open distance between them.
But with every backward step he took, Guan Hui closed the gap with ferocious speed.
“What kind of speed is this!?”
Truly, it was formidable.
He came at Mak Pyeong like a wild boar.
‘This shouldn’t be possible!?’
The Internal Power in his Dan Tian was at best Lower Realm level.
Yet his movements already far exceeded what a Lower Realm martial artist should achieve.
‘How is this even—!?’
Unable to comprehend the situation, Mak Pyeong’s pupils trembled violently.

* * *
Boom!—
Guan Hui charged forward, pushing off the ground with his toes, and swung the Eon Wol Do in a wide arc.
Whoosh!—
The massive blade flashed with cold silver light, cutting a horizontal line through the air.
“Ugh!”
His forearm opened wide, blood spraying, as Mak Pyeong’s face went deathly pale.
His eyes still trembled with disbelief.
It was, in a sense, a natural reaction.
The martial artists of this age revered External Power while valuing only Internal Power.
-What truly matters is cultivating both External and Internal Power together.
Guan Yu, who had been observing the fight, clicked his tongue lightly.
The current obsession with Internal Power alone did not sit well with him.
These martial artists didn’t understand how crucial the harmony between external and internal was, and stubbornly pursued only the easier path.
That generations grew weaker was likely for this very reason.
-Still, that said, he’s a master of a higher realm than you. Don’t let your guard down.
In combat, martial realm doesn’t decide everything.
In real combat, it often happens that one of lower realm defeats one of higher realm.
Yet Mak Pyeong was undeniably a master of the higher realm.
Guan Hui, who had only just stepped onto the path of the Lower Realm, was a formidable opponent for someone of Mak Pyeong’s current standing.
“I’ll show you the way again, so deploy your technique—?!”
Guan Yu trailed off, caught short by the bewildering turn of events unfolding before his eyes.
Against all expectation, Guan Hui was overwhelming Mak Pyeong without any guidance whatsoever.
“Ahhh!”
Mak Pyeong cried out as his thigh opened in a deep wound, and he staggered, limping badly.
The silver Eon Wol Do rose skyward, trailing crimson spray.
Guan Hui seized the crescent blade with both hands and drew a vertical line through the air as if to cleave the world in half—
“—!”
Mak Pyeong desperately raised his sword horizontally to block.
With his thigh wounded, escape was impossible; he had to hold fast through sheer Internal Power.
But then—
Whoosh—
Guan Hui’s Eon Wol Do bent like a serpent, curving away from Mak Pyeong’s head to target his thigh instead.
—!”
From Middle Heaven, Guan Yu’s eyes snapped wide.
That movement—it was unmistakably a technique Gwang Sa-hun of the Hongyak Faction had displayed in their last clash.
“He’s already learned that technique?!”
Even accounting for the fact that the man was a blackguard, this was a blade strike executed by one who had ascended to the First Realm itself.
And not merely any strike, but an elegant rising form layered with subtle principle.
It was not something a warrior could replicate by watching it once.
Least of all someone who had only just begun learning the Eon Wol Do.
“It would be impossible without the Heavenly Martial Body.”
The Heavenly Martial Body—possessed of all the energies of extreme yin, extreme yang, the Three Talents, the Five Phases, and the Grand Ultimate, allowing one to harmonize and master all martial arts with equal grace.
Guan Yu found himself wondering if Guan Hui had been born with such a physique.
The innate power, the keenly honed senses displayed mere moments ago—
If he possessed the Heavenly Martial Body, all the pieces fell into place.
Though he would need to observe further to be certain.
“Huff. Huff.”
Ragged breath tore from Mak Pyeong’s throat.
Blood wept from both punctured thighs, pooling like a small pond.
Moving his legs any further was beyond him.
It meant his greatest asset—his capacity to flee—had been severed.
“How could a worm like you ever—how could you best me?”
Mak Pyeong still could not believe it.
Out of desperation, he squeezed what remained of his Internal Power and extended his Ki Sensing, but his opponent’s realm remained unchanged.
Lower Realm—early threshold. The kind where one could kill with eyes closed.
“Kekekk.”
At the absurdity of being so soundly defeated by something so early in the Lower Realm, laughter welled up unbidden.
“So this is how Mak Pyeong ends.”
His teeth, stained red with blood, showed in a grin as he laughed.
“I had mountains of women yet to despoil. A shame, truly a shame.”
He gazed up at heaven as if to curse it, then flung both arms wide.
“Kill me, you damned bastard!”
Screech—
Guan Hui dragged his silver Eon Wol Do across the ground, moving toward Mak Pyeong with deliberate slowness.
When he reached his opponent, instead of striking the throat, he lowered the blade and set it down on the courtyard floor.
Thud—
The Eon Wol Do, forged entirely of metal and heavy as iron, fell with a dull clang against the practice ground.
“—!”
Mak Pyeong’s face contorted in utter bewilderment.
“What are you doing, you son of a bitch?”
“A quick death would be a mercy you don’t deserve.”
Guan Hui clenched both fists, having set aside the Eon Wol Do.
This man had brutally violated Guan Seo-wol and left her dead.
Afterward, many retainers had abandoned the Guan Clan.
A family unable to catch a single Xiao Se Mo could not inspire confidence.
A family too weak to even fight such a threat hemorrhaged dignity with each passing day.
A family too impoverished to hire a warrior capable of exacting vengeance became the object of scorn.
All of it—the shame, the helplessness, the ruin—had driven good men away from the clan’s banner.
But that wasn’t why Guan Hui wanted him dead.
“You killed Guan Seo-wol.”
The retainers had abandoned the Clan; the family’s circumstances had sunk even lower because of it.
Guan Hui blamed himself for all of it—he was the clan head, after all.
But not for Guan Seo-wol’s death.
That child had died because of this filthy creature’s depravity alone.
So to repay her resentment—
“You need to die as badly as possible.”
Guan Hui lifted his foot and drove it hard between Mak Pyeong’s legs.
Crunch!—
With a sound like splitting pigskin, foam spilled from Mak Pyeong’s mouth.
“Khhhhh!”
The pain was so vicious that Mak Pyeong’s eyes rolled back as his body began to collapse.
Guan Hui seized him by the collar and drove his fist into the man’s face.
Crack!— Crack!— Crunch!—
“P-please… mercy…!”
Even as teeth shattered and the bridge of his nose caved in, Guan Hui didn’t stop.
The innate divine strength in Guan Hui’s fists, needing no Internal Power at all, pulverized the man’s face and crushed every bone to dust.
…….
When every bone from his eyes to his nose to his mouth had shattered and caved inward, he stood there breathing his last.
His face was so mangled that Guan Hui could no longer even recognize him as Mak Pyeong.
Guan Hui stared down at the corpse with vacant eyes, then lifted the silver Eon Wol Do he’d set against the wall.
Swoosh!—
The blade swept in a single graceful arc, drawing a silver line across the air.
Mak Pyeong’s head, which had begged for life right up to the end, suddenly blocked out the moon in the sky.
…….
It flew past Guan Hui, whose expression had grown bitter, and plunged into the bonfire.
Whoosh—
Watching the enemy’s face begin to burn with a sickening stench, Guan Hui raised his head and looked up at the sky.
“Forgive me for avenging you so late, Guan Seo-wol.”
Perhaps it was far too late.
Guan Hui suspected that Guan Seo-wol must resent him.
And she wasn’t alone.
He had repaid his debt to Ji Dae-in and taken revenge for Mak Pyeong.
In a single day, he’d resolved the two largest problems entangled with the Guan Clan.
Yet wasn’t it all still far too late?
Those who’d already left this world because of his inadequacy—weren’t they resenting him now, asking what good it did them?
…….
Guan Hui’s head drooped heavily toward the ground.
He couldn’t face the sky with honor, burdened as he was by shame toward those already departed.
Thinking of those who’d died suffering under an insufficient clan head, guilt pressed down on his shoulders like a physical weight.
—Don’t worry yourself. It isn’t so.
Guan Yu’s steady voice reached his ear.
—Jung Cheon is where all spirits pass through. I have met all of my descendants who came to this place.
…….
What had they said?
Guan Hui wanted to ask, but couldn’t bring himself to speak.
He was afraid to hear the answer.
—They all pitied you.
…!!
—That your shoulders must bear such weight, they said. That they were sorry they couldn’t help you. They wept, boy.
Just as Guan Hui, as clan head, worried for his retainers, so too did his retainers worry for Guan Hui.
Those who’d met unjust deaths, and those who’d died from exhaustion alike—
Every last one of them, even in heaven, thought only of Guan Hui’s suffering.
“Is that… so.”
Perhaps it was rain.
Scalding water streamed down beneath his eyes.
Guan Hui bit his lip hard, trying to calm the turbulent beating of his heart.
“I’m… truly grateful.”
—Don’t push yourself so harshly. You did your best in the circumstances you were given.
“Thank you.”
The first acknowledgment she had ever received in her life.
Perhaps because it came from the mouth of her most celebrated and brilliant ancestor.
A warmth seemed to wrap around her body.
Her whole frame felt lighter, as though she had shed some invisible burden.
-Now take your reward.
“A reward……?”
-I sensed something unusual emanating from the man’s pocket.
Only then did Guan Hui look down at the headless corpse of Mak Pyeong.
As Guan Yu had said, something bulged oddly from near the man’s waist.
“What is this?”
Tilting her head, Guan Hui reached into Mak Pyeong’s sleeve.
Inside lay a small wooden box, no larger than half her palm.
“……?”
Without a second thought, Guan Hui opened it.
“This is……!”
The moment she glimpsed what lay within, her eyes went wide as saucers.
“An elixir……?”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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