Return of the Sword Emperor - Chapter 31

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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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Chapter 31: The Mannyeon Seokgyun (3)

“The power of the Mannyeon Seokgyun must have activated.”
“Of course. It’s an elixir that every warrior in the Murim would search for with burning eyes. Gwimyeon Sasin grumbled that the refinement wasn’t done properly and the potency suffered, but even so, it’s still remarkable. I’m indebted to you. This is all thanks to your efforts.”
“Not at all. If I hadn’t been able to come this far to meet you, it would never have been a fortunate turn of fate.”
“Ha ha! Is that so?”

Behind the hearty laugh, his true thoughts ran otherwise.
Recalling the way Dok Go Jin had pressed Gwimyeon Sasin, it was certain he’d already known of the Mannyeon Seokgyun’s existence before coming to Geumji. Of course, there was no need to dwell on it.
The fact remained that he had trusted in his innocence and restored his strength—that much was undeniable.

“But wasn’t it terribly reckless to practice the Ungi Josik so defenseless like that? What would you have done if I’d harbored different intentions?”
“I was confident you wouldn’t. And in the end, that confidence proved justified, didn’t it?”
“You have a knack for making one forget what to say.”

Do Sang Cheon wore an embarrassed expression, as though acknowledging the pointlessness of his question, and continued.

“So then—what do you intend to do now?”

Dok Go Jin tilted his head and gazed toward the entrance of the cave, where moonlight fell in pale shadows.

“We must wait. Two more days remain before the chain descends.”
“Two days? We have to wait that long?”

Do Sang Cheon asked with visible disappointment.
Now that his strength had returned, he showed no desire to linger in Geumji even for a moment.

“If you and I combine our strength, I believe we could certainly escape. But I see no reason to force the matter.”
“Force? What do you mean?”
“Pardon?”

At Dok Go Jin’s question, Do Sang Cheon’s face broke into a meaningful smile.

“Have you forgotten that my alias is the Soul-Summoning Flute Master?”

At some point, a bamboo flute the length of a hand had appeared in his grasp.

“They locked me in Geumji and yet left my flute untouched—I thought it mockery at the time, a jest at my expense until the very end. But now I see it was a lifeline. It’s thanks to this instrument that I’ve endured these past ten years without losing my mind.”

Do Sang Cheon slowly brought the flute to his lips.

“Forgive me, but I haven’t the patience to remain here a moment longer.”

A faint smile playing at his lips, Do Sang Cheon closed his eyes and began to play.
Whirrrr~
It was a melody that brought ease and warmth to the heart.
Yet the sound was too small. While one standing near could appreciate it fully, there was no sense that anything greater was being attempted.
Glancing at Do Sang Cheon’s expression, Dok Go Jin saw no sign of jest.

‘There’s another purpose here.’

Seeing the furrows etched across his brow, Dok Go Jin could sense the considerable effort Do Sang Cheon was investing.
His premonition proved accurate.
The melody deepened, laying low beneath the surface, and strange vibrations began to coil throughout the entire cave.
It was no mere music.
Do Sang Cheon’s jingi, transcending even his prime years, flowed through the sound waves, climbing along the cavern walls—this was the summoning technique of the Cheongpung Myeongwol Gok, the art he had created.
Woooom!
The massive chain hanging dozens of feet above the cave entrance began to tremble and vibrate in resonance with Do Sang Cheon’s flute song.

‘Extraordinary.’

Dok Go Jin spoke with genuine admiration.
The flute’s melody remained gentle, yet he could feel the power trembling through the space had grown explosively fierce.
Then the melody shifted again.
The tune flowing from the Jukjeok was entirely different from before.
Like dawn mist parting in a forest, soft and dreamlike notes enveloped all of Geumji.
And in that moment, shadows—wholly unexpected—began to reveal themselves one by one high above Geumji.

* * *

Well past midnight, the guards of Nae Ok Bu stood shoulder to shoulder at their posts.

“Maybe it’s the thunder from earlier, but something feels off about the air tonight.”

Tae Gyeong, whose head rose a full head taller than his companion, shivered and spoke.

“What nonsense? The weather’s fine. Look at the moon hanging up there, bright as can be.”

Go Ban gestured toward the sky.
The moon, busily fattening itself toward fullness, drifted slowly westward.

“I don’t know. My gut feels strange about it. Oh, was there an accident earlier?”

At Tae Gyeong’s question, Go Ban’s brow furrowed.

“One section of the mine collapsed, it seems.”
“Again? That’s the third time this month, isn’t it? How many did we lose?”
“One.”
“Well, that’s something at least.”

Tae Gyeong exhaled in relief. When the mines collapsed, the prisoners usually perished to a man.

“Lucky timing. Seems they sensed it coming and got out before it went down.”
“Pure heaven’s grace. With prisoners already stretched thin, we need every body we can keep.”

They weren’t truly concerned for the prisoners’ lives—they worried only that losing workers would cripple their operations.

“Still, with the fresh arrivals, things have gotten a bit easier.”
“Not many of them, though.”

Tae Gyeong let out a dry laugh.

“That’s how desperate things are——”

Go Ban trailed off, tilting his head, and Tae Gyeong tapped his shoulder.

“What is it?”
“Don’t you hear that strange sound? It’s odd. Like wind, or like whistling.”
“Really?”

Tae Gyeong strained to listen, but heard only the wind.

“I can’t make it out.”
“Listen carefully. Try harder.”

Go Ban raised his voice slightly.
There was indeed a sound brushing against his ears, though it remained unclear; yet Tae Gyeong still could not hear it.

“I don’t hear anything. Isn’t it just the wind?”
“Something’s off. I’m sure of it.”

Then, a few birds flew in.
Knowing that birds often swept through the courtyard, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought—except something felt wrong.
It wasn’t just one or two.
Birds that had been arriving in scattered pairs suddenly multiplied into tens, hundreds, thousands in a heartbeat. It looked as though every bird in the vicinity had taken flight at once.

“What—what is this?”
“Are they out of their minds?”

Tae Gyeong and Go Ban waved their hands, trying to shoo the birds away, but the flock that had formed in an instant consumed their entire field of vision.

“Damn it! The migratory birds must’ve taken a wrong turn.”

Tae Gyeong’s face had gone pale as he shouted.

“Has this ever happened before?”
“No idea. But flocks this massive only form when migratory birds are on the move.”
“Now that you mention it, they do look like the same species clustered together.”

Yet when he looked closely, the sizes and shapes of the birds in the swarm were each distinct and varied.

“Shouldn’t we report this upstairs?”

Go Ban turned his head to ask.

“What are you going to tell them? That birds have filled the courtyard?”
“It doesn’t feel right just to ignore it.”
“I’m not sure. Let’s just watch for a moment.”

Tae Gyeong and Go Ban dropped their hands completely and gazed numbly at the birds’ dance.

* * *

“This is insane.”

Dok Go Jin’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open.
What had begun as one or two birds had become tens of thousands, pouring down to fill the vast courtyard like a waterfall.
Countless wings beating against the moonlight descended with a beauty that transcended mere spectacle—it was miraculous.
Enchanted by Do Sang Cheon’s Jukjeok melody, the thousands of birds that streamed down into Geumji swirled around him and Dok Go Jin, forming a towering column.

“Truly magnificent.”

Dok Go Jin spoke with genuine admiration.
Do Sang Cheon, the Jukjeok still at his lips, sent a transmission.

[Why so surprised? Didn’t I say I’d show you?]
[Surely you don’t mean to say you can command beasts as well?]
[It came about by chance. I can’t control them freely, but I can summon and gather them for a short time.]
[What do we do now?]
[We use them to escape, what else.]

Do Sang Cheon turned a confident smile toward Dok Go Jin, who struggled to comprehend.

“Understood.”

Assuming Do Sang Cheon had a specific plan, Dok Go Jin stepped back and turned his gaze.
Where his eyes came to rest, the prisoners crammed into a corner of Geumji were frozen in the face of this sudden calamity, utterly at a loss.
A cold killing intent flashed across Dok Go Jin’s eyes.
He had taken the Hwanyak made from Mannyeon Seokgyun, so the future in which Gwimyeon Sasin recovered his Mugong and seized Chamhoe Ok would never come to pass. Unless something extraordinary happened, these prisoners would never leave Geumji as long as they lived.
The problem was that he couldn’t be certain such a thing wouldn’t happen.
If the prisoners of Geumji escaped Chamhoe Ok, Dok Go Jin knew all too well what would unfold.
Just as Dok Go Jin decided it was right to nip it in the bud and began to turn away, he stopped.

[Can’t you simply let them go?]

Startled, Dok Go Jin turned his head.
There was a flicker of uncertainty in Do Sang Cheon’s eyes as he looked at him.

[I’m well aware of the heinous crimes they committed before being imprisoned in Geumji. Yet we spent ten years together in this place. I’ve received no small amount of help from them. Still, I’d rather not watch them lose their lives before my eyes. Besides, now that the Mannyeon Seokgyun’s Hwanyak has vanished, they’ll never recover their martial prowess. Without hope, they’re nothing but broken old men poisoned by the Sangong Dok. What more is there to do?]

After a moment’s silence, Dok Go Jin shrugged and withdrew his killing intent.

“Indeed, perhaps that is a harsher punishment yet.”
“I’m grateful.”

The moment Do Sang Cheon withdrew from the Jukjeok, Dok Go Jin asked with startled eyes.

“Don’t you need to keep playing?”
“We have time enough for now. Still, we’d best not linger. Come.”

As the words left his mouth, Do Sang Cheon’s form shot upward into empty air.
Having not only completely recovered his former martial prowess but ascended to heights beyond that with Dok Go Jin’s aid and the Mannyeon Seokgyun’s Hwanyak, Do Sang Cheon leaped five zhang high in a single bound and lightly stepped upon the backs of the birds wheeling through their aerial dance.
The birds bore his weight as though he were stepping upon solid stone.
With their help, Do Sang Cheon launched himself skyward again.

“Haha! The Bird-Led Cloud Ladder!”

Dok Go Jin, a bitter laugh escaping him, immediately leaped as well, following Do Sang Cheon and stepping upon the birds’ backs in rapid succession.
Once, twice, thrice.
With each leap upon the birds’ wings as stairs, their bodies rose several zhang higher.
Neither chains nor the roughened stone wall was necessary.
The guards who patrolled the underground dungeons and those who stood watch above could only stare in wonderment at the military formation of tens of thousands of birds unfolding before their eyes. They had never even dreamed that such a thing as this—escaping Geumji by treading upon the backs of birds—could be possible.
Dok Go Jin and Do Sang Cheon, having reached the surface, vanished into the pitch darkness.
It was, in every sense, a perfect escape.

* * *

“How moving it is to see the sun after so long.”

Watching the sunrise from the peak of Cheonmun Mountain, Do Sang Cheon’s eyes glistened with tears.

“Today’s sunrise seems particularly beautiful.”

The two men stood shoulder to shoulder, and even after the sunrise had ended, they gazed at the sun for some time before turning their eyes to one another.

“It’s time to go now.”
“Be careful. If what you said about a third force is true, they won’t be trivial opponents.”
“That much is certain. The fact that they’ve escaped the notice of both the Mado Ryeon and the Jeong Mu Maeng is itself proof of their danger. But don’t worry overmuch. They won’t dream I’m coming after them. And besides, thanks to you, I’m no longer the man I was.”

Do Sang Cheon clenched his fist, unable to contain the surge of his newfound power.

“Should you find yourself in difficulty or find need of my aid, don’t hesitate to send word. As for how to reach me…….”
“Haha! I’ve heard it enough times to remember. I understand. Should the burden grow too great, I’ll contact you without delay.”

When Dok Go Jin waved his hand dismissively, Do Sang Cheon offered an awkward smile and studied him for a moment before speaking.

“Then I’ll take my leave.”
“Travel safely.”

Dok Go Jin bowed respectfully, and Do Sang Cheon returned the gesture with a light nod before turning slowly to face the other direction.
Setting foot in the world after ten years proved strange enough that he hesitated for a moment, but soon he began walking with long, purposeful strides.

‘It won’t be easy, but you have my wishes for strength.’

Dok Go Jin watched Do Sang Cheon recede into the distance, silently offering his encouragement.
Once Do Sang Cheon had vanished completely from sight, Dok Go Jin turned in the opposite direction.
He had told Nam Goong Ho that he would need four days, but now that he had obtained what he sought, there was no reason to linger.
Dok Go Jin gazed at the bundle he had fashioned from the scraps of his own robe.
The treasure it held—the Hwanyak crafted from Mannyeon Seokgyun—made even a single moment seem too precious to waste.

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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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