The Great Heavenly Sword Emperor - Chapter 12

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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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#012. The Last Ember of Buk Goong (2)

Gwang An had given him five days.
In that span, Cheon Mugyeol and Buk Goong Dan Ya held vastly different states of mind.
Cheon Mugyeol had all but abandoned his expectations of Buk Goong Dan Ya.
Whether the man appeared after five days or did not—it made no difference to him anymore.
What mattered far more to Cheon Mugyeol now was how to gain access to the Dongbang Clan.
That was the problem that weighed on him far more heavily.
He could have stormed the Dongbang estate directly, without restraint.
If anyone barred his path, he would cut through them; if the clan head went into hiding, he would tear through the entire estate to drag him out.
It wasn’t that Cheon Mugyeol lacked the confidence to do so.
The reason he proceeded with caution was simple.
He could not yet gauge the true strength of the Dongbang Clan.
This was not a duel between two individuals.
It was one against many.
He needed to estimate the opponent’s full forces in advance, at least roughly.
Only then could he tip the odds in his favor.
Gwang An had kept reminding him of this point, and Cheon Mugyeol was indeed preparing thoroughly, exercising patience.
In his heart, he hoped the Dongbang Clan—or perhaps Gwi Gok, which they claimed had vanished—would make a move again, but save for the period immediately after he left the depths of Cheon Geom Hall, they had been quiet.
Perhaps that incident right after Cheon Mugyeol emerged from the underground chamber had been a procedure to test his Martial Arts Ability.
If that was true, then they too were surely calculating fiercely how to improve their odds.
Cheon Mugyeol set thoughts of them aside for now.
Dwelling on matters beyond his control would only waste his spirit.
‘Buk Goong Dan Ya. What form will he take when he appears?’
Will that ember, barely clinging to life, have grown larger? Or will it have lost its vitality and been snuffed out?
Cheon Mugyeol’s thoughts narrowed to a single focus: Buk Goong Dan Ya.

* * *

Five days later, at Bohyeon Temple.
On an ordinary day much like any other, Buk Goong Dan Ya appeared.
Gwang An, who had gone out personally to greet him upon hearing he had arrived, let surprise flicker across his face.
Gwang An’s surprise stemmed from how Buk Goong Dan Ya was dressed.
It was not merely that his appearance had changed.
He had bundled his belongings tightly—just as he had when first leaving the manor—and arrived at the temple laden with luggage.
“Welcome. But this luggage…”
“If you’ll forgive my presumption, I was hoping to impose on your hospitality here.”
At Buk Goong Dan Ya’s words, Gwang An’s expression grew uncertain.
Yet his gaze upon him carried a note of genuine approval.
Five days earlier, when they had met, he had seemed lost, dependent.
But now it was different.
Anxiety and tension still showed in his eyes, yet threaded through them was an unshakeable resolve not to retreat.
His arrival with bundled luggage seemed both bewildering and admirable for that very reason.
Of course, how much weight it would carry in changing Cheon Mugyeol’s heart remained uncertain.
“I understand. I shall arrange quarters for you.”
“Thank you so much!”
Buk Goong Dan Ya clasped his hands in gratitude, his delight evident.
“But where might he be?”
Buk Goong Dan Ya glanced about the temple grounds as he posed the question casually.
Eagerness to meet Cheon Mugyeol as soon as possible showed plainly in his manner.
Gwang An, smiling faintly, opened his mouth to reply.
“Do not be hasty. Wait in the quarters we arrange, and once things are settled, I will summon him.”
“Ah, yes. I understand.”
Buk Goong Dan Ya answered somewhat bashfully at Gwang An’s words.
“Show him to his room.”
Gwang An turned and departed.
Hm! Phew…….”
Buk Goong Dan Ya drew a deep breath and followed the monks toward the quarters they’d prepared for him.

At that same moment.
Cheon Mugyeol, seated in his room, already knew of Buk Goong Dan Ya’s arrival.
He hadn’t seen the man with his own eyes yet—couldn’t know the light in his gaze or the shape of his expression—but the fact that he’d come this far within the appointed time meant at least he hadn’t surrendered.
‘That’s not enough.’
When a lifeline suddenly appears before anyone’s eyes, they show desperation and kindle hope.
But one can easily mistake a fleeting surge of feeling for the core of one’s being.
The real test comes after.
Whether that resolve endures when time has passed.
That was another matter entirely.
Cheon Mugyeol understood this difference better than anyone.
Twenty years beneath the Cheon Sin Sword had taught him that.
The temptation to release the rope one had grasped.
Overcoming that temptation was harder than any bodily suffering.
And it was through enduring that crucible that Cheon Mugyeol had become who he was.
Because of this, Cheon Mugyeol placed no faith in momentary desperation or sudden resolve.
And so his test for Buk Goong Dan Ya might prove far harsher than imagination.
Cheon Mugyeol’s test of Buk Goong Dan Ya had not yet begun.

* * *

That evening.
Only after the many worshippers who had come to make offerings had departed was a space prepared for them.
Gwang An sat in the center as though he were a mediator, with Cheon Mugyeol to his right.
The seat across from them, meant for Buk Goong Dan Ya, remained empty.
Not for long.
Creak.
The door that had been replaced after the damage from the Zhang Family Wind opened, and Buk Goong Dan Ya appeared, tension visible in every line of his frame.
Standing before Cheon Mugyeol, Buk Goong Dan Ya offered a formal fist salute.
“Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Buk Goong Dan Ya, the last blood of the Buk Goong Clan.”
Having given his greeting, Buk Goong Dan Ya remained standing, his gaze fixed on Cheon Mugyeol, still taut with tension.
“Please, sit.”
Gwang An invited Buk Goong Dan Ya to take his seat, but the young man kept his eyes on Cheon Mugyeol and remained on his feet.
“Sit.”
“Yes.”
The moment Cheon Mugyeol spoke, Buk Goong Dan Ya answered and took his seat.
Gwang An watched this exchange with interest, glancing sidelong at Cheon Mugyeol.
Cheon Mugyeol’s expression remained as unreadable as ever.
Silence settled among the three of them.
Buk Goong Dan Ya barely dared to breathe, and Gwang An, too, did not presume to speak first.
Only Cheon Mugyeol sipped his tea with perfect composure.
“I… may I ask something?”
Unable to bear it any longer, Gwang An broke the silence.
But Cheon Mugyeol did not turn his gaze toward Buk Goong Dan Ya; he merely continued to sip his tea.
Gulp.
The sound of Buk Goong Dan Ya swallowing, his nerves stretched taut as a bowstring, rang out like thunder in the stillness.
And then, at last, Cheon Mugyeol spoke.
“I have no interest in hearing the particulars of what the Buk Goong Clan has endured, what trials it has faced, or any of the tedious history behind it all.”
At Cheon Mugyeol’s words, Buk Goong Dan Ya nodded with a grave expression.
He had sensed it from their first meeting.
This man would not yield to sentiment or pleading.
For five days, Buk Goong Dan Ya had wrestled with what to say and how to say it, yet the answer had always been the same.
Speak with sincerity about the fact that he had not given up.
Answer truthfully, without deception, should Cheon Mugyeol ask anything of him.
“I understand.”
“Whether the fire I saw in your eyes that day was merely a fleeting blaze or an ember burning deep within—I shall test that now.”
“I will accept any trial you set before me. And I will pass it.”
Buk Goong Dan Ya declared his resolve with quiet conviction.
A soft sound.
For the first time, Cheon Mugyeol looked directly at Buk Goong Dan Ya, meeting his gaze.
A breath caught.
Though he made no sound, Buk Goong Dan Ya felt his breath stop when their eyes met.
A chill raced down his spine.
What lay within that gaze was unmistakably killing intent.
“Gwang An.”
“Yes, speak, sir.”
Gwang An waited carefully for what came next.
“I’ll need to place a contract with Muk Ryeon.”
“A contract?”
Gwang An repeated the words as though questioning what he’d heard.
“The contractor is me.”
Cheon Mugyeol’s gaze, cutting through the silence, pierced Buk Goong Dan Ya.
“The target of the contract is Buk Goong Dan Ya.”
At those words, Buk Goong Dan Ya’s eyes widened.
Gwang An, equally startled, laughed awkwardly and opened his mouth to speak.
“Sir, what do you mean by—”
The Cheon Mugyeol he had known until now was not a man to speak idle words.
What left his lips, he would do.
To place a contract on Buk Goong Dan Ya.
That, too, had to be sincere.
Cheon Mugyeol regarded Buk Goong Dan Ya steadily, offering no further explanation.
Survive or die trying.
The test Cheon Mugyeol had devised for Buk Goong Dan Ya was cruel from the start.
‘Is he testing his Martial Arts Ability?’
Gwang An’s expression hardened.
Cheon Mugyeol had already crossed hands with Buk Goong Dan Ya once before.
That he would now place a contract with Muk Ryeon meant one of two things.
Either he judged that Buk Goong Dan Ya would survive, or he truly meant to have him killed.
Even Gwang An could not discern which.
Buk Goong Dan Ya himself was no less shocked.
The moment he heard those words, his fingertips went numb and cold, his heart sinking like a stone.
He knew all too well what kind of organization Muk Ryeon was, and what it meant to place a contract with them to take his own life.
But how to reconcile himself with Cheon Mugyeol’s willingness to do so without hesitation, he could not fathom.
“I have said all there is to say. Place the contract at once.”
With that, Cheon Mugyeol rose from his seat.
“Wait, sir!”
Gwang An, still reeling from shock, hastily followed him.
Buk Goong Dan Ya, overwhelmed, remained sitting where he was, staring blankly ahead.
But he quickly gathered himself.
‘There must be another purpose. If he truly intended to kill me, he would either do it himself or would not place the contract so openly before me.’
His mind stayed sharp.
His emotions, calm.
But the spark within him, barely rekindled, burned all the brighter.
For five days, Buk Goong Dan Ya repeated this conviction to himself without end.
He rose from his seat.
There was no time to waste.
He could not know when Muk Ryeon, having taken the contract, would bare their fangs from the darkness.
Neither in waking nor in sleep could he afford to lower his guard.
Buk Goong Dan Ya hurried toward his lodgings.
Resolved to survive by any means at his disposal.

* * *

“Sir! Sir!”
Gwang An continued to call after Cheon Mugyeol as he followed.
But Cheon Mugyeol, having finished what he came to say, did not slow his pace, heading toward his quarters.
As Cheon Mugyeol entered his room, Gwang An followed without hesitation, sitting before him and asking:
“What are you thinking?”
“That is the truth.”
“You intend to kill Buk Goong Dan Ya?”
“Whether one lives or dies depends on one’s own strength.”
“Ha!”
There was not a shred of hesitation in Cheon Mugyeol’s tone.
No falsehood rang through his words—if anything, sincerity poured from them.
Cheon Mugyeol watched Gwang An in silence, the man too stunned to speak.
“Shouldn’t we be leaving? There’s no point lingering here.”
The meaning was clear: go at once and place a contract with Muk Ryeon.
In the end, Gwang An had no choice but to leave the room, unable to fathom what truly lay beneath Cheon Mugyeol’s surface.
“He grows harder to read by the day.”
Gwang An clicked his tongue.
Ever since Cheon Mugyeol’s return from meeting Zhang Fafeng, the man had become an enigma.
What once seemed transparent now concealed hidden depths.
“Sigh……”
Gwang An exhaled deeply.
For now, he could only follow Cheon Mugyeol’s will.
And as for Buk Goong Dan Ya, facing trials whose purpose he could not fathom—Gwang An found himself pitying him.

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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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