The Lightning I Harbor Is Too Strong - Chapter 48

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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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Episode 48
Chirp!
Hiss—
The faint commotion echoed from Jung Ishin’s bed.
A pale-grey flying squirrel and a dark serpent faced each other in threat.
Whoosh, whoosh! Slash, slash!
Of course, this “threat” was being enacted while both creatures were held fast in Jung Ishin’s hands, making the entire spectacle rather pathetic.
Chirp! Hiss— Chirp! Hiss—
Mukrin in his right hand, Oseuh in his left.
After bringing his hands together and apart repeatedly, Jung Ishin opened his right palm. Upon it, Mukrin coiled his body into a tight spiral and gazed up at him.
“I’m asking one last time. You ate the Blood Armored Five Masters’ Inner Elixir, didn’t you?”
Chirp! Chirp!
“Oseuh, quiet for a moment. I’m asking Mukrin right now.”
At Jung Ishin’s firm words, Oseuh fell silent.
Mukrin regarded him with crimson eyes for a long while, then slowly opened his mouth.
The finger-thick serpent’s body swelled in an instant.
Pah!
A familiar deep-red orb rolled across his palm.
“This is driving me mad. When exactly did you swallow it?”
The inner elixir Jung Ishin had obtained after slaying the Blood Armored Five Masters in Mujeo Gaepung.
He’d been keeping it in his robes, intending to use it by the method Dang Mujeong had taught him long ago.
Hiss—
At Jung Ishin’s lament, Mukrin coiled himself around the elixir.
The way he wrapped around it—as if declaring it his own, refusing to give it back—drew a hollow laugh from Jung Ishin.
“What exactly do you have in that belly of yours? There should be the Yellow Fragment that Byeokcheon Kakju gave me. And didn’t you also carry the medicine I gave to Miss Eon?”
Hiss!
“…Wait a moment. Wasn’t that supposed to be from the Cheongun Express Bureau? How did it end up coming out of you?”
At Jung Ishin’s question, Mukrin tilted his head.
The way the small creature raised his head and nuzzled it against Jung Ishin’s palm seemed like pure affection.
When they’d first met, Jung Ishin had been startled by the serpent, but now, after all they’d been through, the creature had become rather endearing.
“Sigh. All right, well, what can I do. I’ll have to explain it when I meet them later. You keep the inner elixir safe for now. But under no circumstances are you to digest it, understand?”
Hiss!
It took only an instant for Mukrin to swallow an inner elixir far larger than his own body.
Transfixed by the sight—one that never ceased to amaze him—Jung Ishin suddenly drew a wooden case from his robes.
It was a Spirit Elixir that the patriarch of the Thundering Pillar had given him out of sincerity.
Now that he thought about it, why hadn’t he given this one for Mukrin to swallow as well?
“They called it the Thundering Pill. It definitely has Qi properties, but… why does it feel so wrong?”
He cracked open the case to inspect the Spirit Elixir, then offered it to Mukrin.
“Here, take this one too—”
Whack!
“…Huh?”
Mukrin struck the case away with his head.
Jung Ishin blinked and offered the case again.
This time, the serpent even raised his scales, making a hissing threat.
Hissssss!
“I—I’m sorry. If you don’t want to eat it, just say so. I thought you’d consume everything.”
The moment Jung Ishin tucked the Thundering Pill back into his robes, Mukrin wound around his wrist once more. The sensation was cool and lustrous, like metal.
As his crimson eyes slowly closed, he became indistinguishable from an ordinary bracelet.
Only then did Jung Ishin relax his grip on his left hand.
Squeeeee!
A flash of gold light erupted across the room.
Since entering the academy, Oseuh hadn’t used his Qi, and being held captive in Jung Ishin’s grasp had clearly chafed him.
Whooosh!
Jung Ishin let the creature roam the room, unfurling the Bimu technique, and opened the scriptures he’d received from Eon Soran.
“This is the Byeokcheon-ryu Scripture, right?”
Before turning the cover, Jung Ishin recalled Eon Soran’s words. They might have been called a warning.
‘The Byeokcheon-ryu can only be mastered within Cheonmu Academy, and it cannot be transmitted to anyone outside.’
It wasn’t a reference to some convention of the martial world like the Non-transmission Outside principle.
It was that outside the walls of Cheonmu Academy itself, there was literally no way to enter this discipline, no matter what methods were employed.
‘Even though there are separate Byeokcheon-ryu classes, many martial artists never learn it. They find something off-putting about it. Well, for people like me, it’s a blessing in disguise.’
It is neither a Forbidden Art, nor the martial skill of an outsider.
Its function is excellent enough to be a subject of Cheonmu Academy’s curriculum.
However, there is certainly something unsettling about it, so decide for yourself whether to learn it.
This was Eon Soran’s warning.
“You said it’s a martial skill yet not a martial skill. Now I’m curious.”
Of course, Jung Ishin paid it no mind at all.
No matter what strange Qi might condense within his body through the Byeokcheon-ryu Scripture, it could never overcome the Thunder Wheel in his heart.
Whoosh—
And so the first page turned, smooth and easy.
The handwriting that greeted Jung Ishin was so meticulous it seemed impossible he had copied it himself.
―How the body moves.
That was the opening line. And that was all of it.
There were words that followed, but they held no different meaning than the first line.
“……What is this?”
The content wasn’t particularly long.
The principle it contained wasn’t complicated.
“When you move, a corresponding flow arises. Feel that flow and ride upon it.”
That was the summary of it. One could say that was the entire essence.
There were no forced techniques or elaborate forms.
In the end, it was simply a matter of how to evade and how to strike.
Jung Ishin felt rather taken aback.
“Why is there no explanation?”
Feel the flow.
Ride upon the flow.
Fine words. But surely the ‘how’ is missing, isn’t it?
“This is absurd. Just telling me to feel it won’t make me feel it.”
But then it happened.
Whoosh—
He felt Oseuh cutting through the air toward him.
The creature was aiming for his wrist—Mukrin.
As he withdrew his hand lightly, Oseuh whistled past with a sharp cry.
Squeak—!
A displeased chirp as it receded into the distance in an instant.
Did it really want to torment Mukrin so much? He found himself laughing reflexively.
“……Huh?”
He could see Oseuh pressed against the wall, preparing to launch itself again. This was information gathered through the five senses—through sight.
As he closed his eyes slowly, he felt Oseuh pushing off from the wall. This was reading its presence through the full use of all five senses.
Then.
Whoosh!
This clear trajectory aimed at his shoulder—what was it?
‘Was I already feeling things like this?’
If he were to answer himself, it was a realm he hadn’t even been conscious of until now.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
He felt the trajectory of the creature’s flight.
All of it aimed at Jung Ishin’s shoulder. He felt every bit of it.
If one were to compare this to Bimu, or the combat of warriors—
One question led to another.
How had he been evading his opponent’s attacks all this while?
‘By seeing and dodging.’
He had merely seen and evaded, relying on his overwhelming physical abilities.
The rare instances when his body moved reflexively without conscious thought stemmed only from the countless forms that Kong-heon had etched into his body.
This sense, which bordered on prediction, was something entirely new to Jung Ishin.
“Huh. Interesting.”
Whoosh— Thud!
And so Jung Ishin offered his shoulder to Oseuh and tilted his head in wonder.
Eon Soran had told him four days were needed to enter the Byeokcheon-ryu Scripture.
Even she, on the fourth day, was still uncertain about it.
“……Why?”
Why does it feel like I’ve already succeeded in entry?
* * *
After the Evaluation Tournament ended, new disciples were granted roughly two weeks of respite.
It was a period meant for recovery—to nurse the fatigue and injuries accumulated through the Admission Ceremony and the tournament, and to acclimate themselves to the academy.
The senior disciples joked among themselves, calling it the “new recruit protection period.”
True enough, some seniors had returned early or remained at the academy through the break, yet during this interval they were forbidden from making contact with the new disciples.
Of course, that was merely what the rules prescribed.
Where would nearly a hundred talented prospects appear each year, after all?
It was only natural that a considerable number of Cheonmu Academy’s disciples came from renowned martial families and powerful sects.
“The son of a man who serves as a guest in a great house is among this year’s intake. The one connected to that tremendous Qi Disturbance that erupted in Jungnim… it’s said there were indeed martial demonstrations among the faculty.”
“One of the branch lines works in the administrative office, and it seems the professors were in dispute over whose tutee that man should be….”
The intermediate dormitory of Cheongryong Guan.
Several men of considerable build relayed their information with studied deference.
Presiding over them was Hwangbo Yeongeol, a man whose facial features converged toward the center with almost mathematical precision.
Though he had earned the upper rank in the Evaluation Tournament, the upper dormitory of Cheongryong Guan was filled with men he found unbearable to look upon.
Besides, most of those who followed Hwangbo Yeongeol had received intermediate rank, so they spent the majority of their time here.
“Pathetic wretches.”
He was displeased that his subordinates ranked only intermediate, and the news they brought of late only irritated him further.
“Does that make any sense? They say such things never happened even in Beomcheon’s time!”
The men lowered their heads deeper still at his exasperated cry.
Though they were all new disciples like the others, these men were scions of families that revered the Hwangbo Family.
Hwangbo Yeongeol, the Hwangbo Family’s third son, was to them something akin to a lesser lord.
“That bastard is that strong? Very well, his bout with So Geumgang was rather impressive. But didn’t So Geumgang call that bastard his senior brother?”
“His exact origin remains unclear, though it’s said he is a disciple of a wandering master.”
“So he has some connection to Sorim, then. Who’s to say whether they didn’t practice together there?”
At that moment, a voice spoke out from the back—gravelly and measured.
“So Geumgang is not the sort to do such a thing.”
The man at the rear of the line, receiving Hwangbo Yeongeol’s gaze, bowed his head.
A chill descended in the form of words from above.
“Ha Jinseong.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Have you ever seen So Geumgang?”
“Yes, I saw him when he had his martial demonstration with the first disciple.”
Hwangbo Yeongeol strode forward and swung his hand. With a sharp crack, the man’s head snapped back.
“Ha Jinseong, the Ha Jinseong to whom I myself gave the name Iron Bear—be silent.”
“Understood, Young Master.”
Ha Jinseong gave a deep nod and sealed his lips firmly shut.
Hwangbo Yeongeol exhaled a long breath and shook his head.
“Never mind So Geumgang. What about Pang Ak, then? That madman simply failed to react to a sneak attack—that’s all. He threw out that Tanji-gong technique out of nowhere, so the response was impossible.”
“The speed was difficult to evade even with prior sight.”
“You bastard! Didn’t I tell you to shut your mouth?!”
Hwangbo Yeongeol hurled a teacup.
The cup struck Ha Jinseong across the head and shattered into fragments that scattered in all directions. Cold tea water streamed down the man’s face.
“Sneak attacks. That’s all that creature possesses.”
“Correct, Young Master. Even when he pinned you and drove you to the ground, it was a sneak attack.”
“You insane bastard!!”
Thud! Bang!
Unable to contain his fury any longer, Hwangbo Yeongeol drove his boot into Ha Jinseong’s gut. The massive frame hurtled backward into the wall, then rebounded forward.
Hwangbo Yeongeol stepped close and seized Ha Jinseong by the collar.
“You foolish wretch. Why do you grate on my nerves this way today? Listen, Ha Jinseong—do you want me to send word to the Baekryeon Bang?”
……!
Ha Jinseong suddenly yanked himself backward. The hand gripping his collar fell uselessly into empty air.
As something like bewilderment flickered across Hwangbo Yeongeol’s face, Ha Jinseong drove his head down onto the floor.
Thud! Boom!
He struck with such force that the very ground trembled.
The men standing with their eyes downcast flinched in surprise.
Yet Hwangbo Yeongeol’s twisted mood did not seem appeased.
His gaze shifted.
“You there—tell me something else.”
The designated man’s eyes darted about. Fortunately, he had yet to share the news he carried.
“Young Master! The first disciple—that bastard is indeed all sneak attacks!”
“Is that so? Explain.”
“He’s been sparring with Jan Hwagwon every day lately, and the dynamic has become remarkably even!”
“What? That’s hardly possible…….”
Hwangbo Yeongeol’s frown, which had knitted his brow sharply, began to soften gradually.
“Tell me the details.”
“At f-first, he was the only one attacking while Jan Hwagwon was scrambling to evade, but as time passed, the situation reversed.”
“Reversed?”
“Yes! Over the span of a few days the dynamic slowly inverted, and now Jan Hwagwon is the one doing all the attacking. And against Eon Soran’s martial arts no less—isn’t that proof of his limits?”
“Hmm.”
Hwangbo Yeongeol stroked his angular jaw.
An arrogant mind always turned in whatever direction it pleased.
“Well, of course. So without surprise, he can’t match her. Indeed…… there’s no way I’d lose to him.”
Hwangbo Yeongeol, having already settled the hierarchy between himself and Jung Ishin in his mind, spoke.
“Then there’s no need for me to step in. Fine and well. Go and test yourselves against him.”
“……Sir?”
“Cheonmu Academy actively encourages sparring between disciples. Whether you provoke him or insult him, arrange the match however you see fit. And bring out the Charyul-jeon technique. Ha Jinseong, you’ll finish it.”
“B-but sir, the new semester will begin soon. If we sustain injuries…….”
Hwangbo Yeongeol didn’t even answer; he simply turned to leave.
Only as he was about to exit the room did he drive home a single hard truth.
“After all, honor isn’t so important to you, is it? As always, I’ll look after the practical matters—just do as you’re told and finish the job.”
I Carry a Thunder Too Fierce
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Woo San-yu
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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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