Survival Guide for the Reincarnated - Chapter 307

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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 307
Not only had Seol Woon-hwi failed to draw his sword, but he hadn’t even gathered his Qi.
I felt ashamed of my own tension from moments before. And with good reason—Seol Woon-hwi was reading a book.
Seol Woon-hwi spoke without lifting his gaze from the pages.
“Do you perhaps have an interest in poetry?”
“…I suppose I have some appreciation for it.”
“There is a fascinating passage here.”
Seol Woon-hwi recited softly.
命是心中劍
One’s fate becomes the sword within the heart
義在足下行
And righteousness dwells beneath each step
Sang Ji-hyeok’s pupils trembled.
He had never heard it before, yet the meaning was far from ordinary.
“It is from ‘Song of Selection’ by Mu Yeom, a poet of the Wol Kingdom. Is it not splendid?”
“…It is not without merit, though the content seems directed at me in particular.”
“Then you have understood it well.”
Sang Ji-hyeok fell silent for a moment before answering in a quiet voice.
“…Have you conducted a separate investigation into me?”
“I have not, but I did not think there would be even one person among those closest to Yeon Song-baek whose thoughts he could not read.”
Seol Woon-hwi, still not removing his gaze from the book, chuckled softly and continued.
“Fortunately, it seems you have become that one person—neither one of the Seven Flower Swords nor quite a Grand Elder.”
“…”
“There is another fascinating passage here.”
Slowly, Seol Woon-hwi shifted his gaze to Sang Ji-hyeok and recited the verse.
劍在手中無
The sword rests in the hand yet seems absent
道在心中有
The Way dwells in the heart yet seems present
Thud.
The book closed.
“This too is from Mu Yeom’s work. The title is ‘Lament of the Martial Artist.'”
“…”
“A beautiful poem. Especially fitting for our present circumstances.”
Sang Ji-hyeok’s face had gone pale.
Merely two poems.
I could not be certain whether those verses were truly the only ones written in that book.
But with those two poems alone, Seol Woon-hwi had completely pierced through my innermost thoughts—this much I now understood.
“Please, come inside.”
Sang Ji-hyeok swallowed hard, stepped into the carriage, and closed the door behind him. The narrow space held only two people.
Seol Woon-hwi set down the closed manual beside him and spoke in a quiet voice.
“Senior Sang.”
“…Yes.”
“They say poetry is a mirror that reveals the heart.”
Seol Woon-hwi met Sang Ji-hyeok’s gaze directly.
“I can roughly guess what Yeon Song-baek commanded you to do. But it seems your heart lies elsewhere.”
“….”
“I don’t wish to speak in circles. I have duties to attend to, and so do you. So I intend to get straight to the point. Is that acceptable?”
“…It is.”
“Good. Then let me hear your choice first. Speak without reservation.”
Sang Ji-hyeok wiped his face once and spoke briefly.
“…I wish to live.”
“I see.”
At my casual response, Sang Ji-hyeok was instead taken aback.
“…Is that all?”
“Is there more?”
“Why… do you not condemn me?”
“Why should I condemn you?”
Sang Ji-hyeok blinked.
“You are certainly older and more experienced than I am, Senior. Above all, you are treating me with respect in this place.”
“….”
“That is precisely why I speak earnestly—to condemn survival instinct would be something a person should not do before becoming a martial artist.”
“A person before a martial artist….”
“Who wishes to die? If a martial artist must die, it should be as part of their pursuit of the martial way. But right now, Senior, you face a dog’s death because of someone else’s greed, before you can even pursue the martial way. Yes, I understand completely. How could I possibly condemn that?”
My chest felt heavy.
This was the first time I had truly witnessed it—and it was this profound.
A maturity that belied his years shone through, and his heart was broader than even the Black Sea itself.
‘…I’ve grown dull.’
Reaching the Heaven-Human Realm meant possessing experience itself before talent.
Yet one thing alone could destroy it all.
Will.
How much one hones the blade carried within one’s heart.
And when one sheathes that blade.
When one joins an organization and rises to a high position within it, the period of honing the blade diminishes, and one naturally sheathes it.
From that point on, one spends their years not as a martial artist but as a wielder of power.
This was the difference.
Seol Woon-hwi had never sheathed the blade within his heart, and in each moment he honed it keenly.
To walk the martial way he pursued.
This was something worthy of reverence.
“Is that your final answer?”
At my words, Sang Ji-hyeok’s eyes widened considerably.
“…Before I answer that question, might I ask one thing?”
“You may ask two or more if you wish.”
“One will suffice. Just how much do you know, exactly?”
I crossed my legs and smiled gently.
“I feel no shame in admitting what I do not know. Therefore, I will speak plainly: I know ‘everything.'”
“…How could you possibly…?”
“I said you could ask multiple questions, but I never promised to answer all of them. Senior.”
He was left speechless.
This was more than just raw power—the ability to sway people with words alone was precisely what made him a man who shook the very foundations of the Murim.
A long exhale.
Sang Ji-hyeok took a deep breath and spoke with firm resolve.
“I revere Sect Leader Yeon. We have walked together for twenty years…ahem. Yet today, he has made this place my tomb, but I do not wish for it to be so.”
“Please, continue. Senior.”
“I need a justification to survive this day with certainty. I wish to borrow your insight to forge that justification—will you help me?”
Loyalty’s rewards are sweet, but maintaining it requires nourishment.
I gazed at Sang Ji-hyeok for a moment before answering briefly.
“There is one.”
At those words, Sang Ji-hyeok’s expression brightened instantly.
“I already know what Sect Leader Yeon intends to do. And because I understand what price it demands, what sacrifices it requires, I too have need of you, Senior Sang.”
With that, I retrieved a brush and paper, beginning to write something down.
The contents were lengthy, and once I had folded it carefully, I handed it to Sang Ji-hyeok.
“Deliver this to Sect Leader Yeon. Then all will unfold smoothly.”
“…May I verify the contents?”
“You may, though I would personally recommend against it.”
“Is there a reason?”
“For the sake of trust.”
“Trust toward whom?”
“Naturally, your trust in Sect Leader Yeon, Senior.”
“…I see.”
“It is merely advice, but what will you do?”
Sang Ji-hyeok wiped his face as he deliberated.
He had made his decision.
“I will deliver it to the Sect Leader as is, without looking.”
“Excellent.”
I extended my hand, and Sang Ji-hyeok grasped it.
“I hope that what transpires today becomes your lifeline, Senior.”
He nodded.
Sang Ji-hyeok did the same.
* * *
Yeon Song-baek gazed silently at Sang Ji-hyeok before him.
What could I even say?
Should I call it somewhat bewildering? This wasn’t what I had anticipated.
After organizing my thoughts internally, Yeon Song-baek asked quietly.
“You exerted everything you could muster and arrived in merely a day, yet you simply returned?”
“…Yes.”
“And he asked you to deliver this letter to me.”
“Yes.”
“Grand Elder Sang.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“I will read this letter from this moment forward. If its contents fail to convince me, you will have to bear the consequences. Can you accept that?”
“…Yes. I can accept it.”
Yeon Song-baek nodded and was about to unfold the letter when a thought suddenly occurred to me.
I became curious.
“Have you perhaps read this letter?”
“I have not read it.”
His eyes flicker with sincerity.
“You have not read it…? Why?”
“This is a letter that the Cheon Ui Jung Jeong of the Heavenly Righteousness Alliance sends only to you, Sect Leader. I believed that for me to read it first would be discourteous to you.”
I let out a soft laugh.
Sang Ji-hyeok was certainly a capable man.
I had even taken a liking to him.
The problem was that he knew the ‘secret’.
I had intended to discard him after use, yet seeing him like this, my heart ached once more.
I quietly unfolded the letter.
And as Yeon Song-baek read its contents, his expression turned cold.
–
To Sect Leader Yeon Song-baek.
There is such a verse in ancient poetry.
Three enter the mountain
Into the mountain three souls go
Yet only one emerges alone
Twenty years have passed.
In that time, the Ihwageomseonchong has truly flourished, and so has Cheon Rim.
Yet the stars in the night sky whispered of ancient secrets.
Certain records I unfolded beneath the moonlight contained far more than what I had known.
Fate is such a curious thing that I began to wonder if hidden truths naturally reveal themselves.
Yes. The time has come to write a new tale.
A story of one thought dead returning.
One who was believed dead, returning.
I speak of a tale of completing one’s revenge and reclaiming one’s rightful place.
Every story has an ending, and every mask has a moment when it must be removed.
I shall prepare that stage for you.
Cheon Ui Jung Jeong, Seol Woon-hwi.
–
Sang Ji-hyeok swallowed hard as the killing intent spread subtly through the surroundings.
What on earth could be written in it?
“…Grand Elder Sang.”
“Yes.”
“Did you perhaps tell Cheon Ui Jung Jeong the ‘truth’?”
“…No. Absolutely not, I never told him.”
“Is that so? Then how does he know the secret?”
“Sect… Sect Master… I truly have no knowledge of this.”
Yeon Song-baek, who had been observing quietly, looked at the letter once more.
The contents were astounding.
“An ending where everyone can smile… This is quite something.”
There was more content in the letter.
After reading that additional content, Yeon Song-baek burst into hearty laughter.
It was at that moment when Sang Ji-hyeok, regarding him with a bewildered expression, was about to ask what on earth was written in it.
Yeon Song-baek’s laughter vanished instantly.
“I must go.”
“…Where do you mean….”
“I must see him myself. This Seol Woon-hwi.”
If the contents of this letter were true.
The Murim’s assessment of Seol Woon-hwi thus far would need to be reevaluated.
A man who shakes the Murim, currently brilliant yet with an even more brilliant future, a genius who in some twenty or thirty years would be worthy of competing for the position of Martial World Supreme.
Everything had to change.
He was naturally a man who shakes the Murim, and even drawing upon all future values, he was not a being that could be described by the word “brilliant”—rather, he was undoubtedly a man who would claim the seat of Martial World Supreme not in twenty or thirty years, but in mere years, truly within a decade at most.
Yeon Song-baek rose from his seat.
Earlier than expected, but I intend to meet this genius once.

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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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