The World’s Greatest Junior Martial Brother - Chapter 11

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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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Heavenly Foremost Disciple (11)
Bukcheon Sinmun
Once again, I say it’s a pointless effort, a waste of breath.
“This time I’m going in harder.”
With his palm pressed to Baekri Unhak’s back, Jin Muok circulated his internal power. His inner power had grown considerably by now. He couldn’t purge Unhak’s turbid Qi entirely, but he could herd it into one corner.
“This is going to hurt a little.”
Kurrrrr—.
As Jin Muok’s power surged into him like a tide, Baekri Unhak clenched his jaw.
“Gah—!”
The agony was like his bones were splintering apart, one fragment at a time.
Still, he had to endure it. If he couldn’t survive even this, he had no business being the Bukcheon Sinmun’s chief disciple.
When the single round of Qi regulation finally ended, Baekri Unhak sagged like wet seaweed and gulped for breath.
“You’re not even moving.”
Now came the matter he’d been circling. For months, Baekri Unhak had deliberately avoided talking about Namgung Ildo. Picking a fight with the Namgung Family was a prospect that sat uneasily with him.
“You punished Namgung Ildo, yet the Namgung Family hasn’t made a single move.”
“They must be scratching their heads. Namgung Ildo broke Murim Law, so they’ve got no pretext to come after us.”
What martial artists value more than their own lives is justification. No matter how furious they get, they can’t act without a pretext, but give them a reason, however trivial, and they’ll act on it without hesitation.
That is the nature of a martial artist.
“Be honest, Senior Brother. You think I went too far with my hands, don’t you?”
“Hm?”
“We still haven’t uncovered the truth behind the bloodbath at Sipman Daesan. Did we really need to stir up the heart of the Murim Alliance like the Namgung Family, don’t you think?”
“Revealing the enemy while concealing your own side is the basics of strategy.”
When Baekri Unhak conceded, Jin Muok nodded.
“Let me put it differently. Senior Brother, you believe there are people inside the Murim Alliance trying to bury what happened ten years ago, right?”
“That is…”
“You’re certain in your gut, but there’s no solid proof, is that it?”
Nod.
“It was the same with Bukjin Gwangpung.”
Unhak tensed without meaning to. The story had taken an unexpected turn.
“I heard that Bukjin Gwangpung was told there was a figure in the Murim Alliance colluding with the Demonic Cult.”
“That can’t be…”
“The problem is, the one who told Bukjin Gwangpung that was Sima Yan.”
Sima Yan. The finest mind of the Demonic Cult. The strategist who had held the Demonic path together against the Jegal Family, the divine tacticians.
“He’s fundamentally cunning. A treacherous man who can topple a sect with nothing but his silver tongue. You can’t take words out of a man like that at face value, can you?”
What did that have to do with leaving Namgung Ildo crippled and exposing Bukjin Gwangpung’s existence?
“Dacao Jingshe cuts both ways.”
Dacao Jingshe means not to beat the grass needlessly and startle the snake. But originally, it meant that by striking the brush, you flush out a hidden enemy.
“Mingchang Yita Anjian Nanfang. Open attacks are easy to dodge, but secret slander and betrayal are far harder to guard against.”
“So you’re saying you punished Namgung Ildo somewhat excessively to set a trap for the unknown traitors hiding within the Murim Alliance?”
“Bukjin Gwangpung was simply a general who refused to submit to the control of the powers that be, not an enemy of the Murim Alliance. So there’s no reason for the Righteous Path to refuse his return.”
But if there are traitors within the Murim Alliance, they’ll act in some way once they hear word that Bukjin Gwangpung might be coming back.
That’s when we catch them.
Jin Muok, who had been smiling coldly with the corners of his mouth lifted, suddenly raised his eyes.
“Then why were the spies inside the alliance so desperate to devour Bukjin Gwangpung?”
Jin Muok frowned. Then Baekri Unhak offered an unexpected view.
“They may have been wary not of our master, but of our own sect.”
“What?”
What on earth could he mean?
As Jin Muok tilted his head in puzzlement, Baekri Unhak, having made up his mind about something, sprang to his feet.
The time had come to tell his junior brother the secret he had uncovered.
“Follow me.”
* * *
Oddly enough, the origins of the Bukcheon Sinmun lie not in the martial world but in the military.
It isn’t the refined techniques practiced by the Jinyiwei of the imperial court but a crude killing art, forged under the harsh winds of the north, that forms the foundation of the Bukcheon Sinmun.
Long ago, a great general who once commanded the battlefield withdrew from the front lines for some reason, yet still founded this mysterious single-school sect while longing for the north.
“…That is all that is known to us about the Bukcheon Sinmun.”
Circling wide behind the thatched hut, Baekri Unhak pushed through the dense undergrowth and advanced deep inside.
It was a place Jin Muok had overlooked, buried under wild grass and wildflowers that grew so thick there was not a bare patch to set a foot on.
“Where are you going…!”
Having passed through the brush to a clearing with no sign of people, Baekri Unhak swept aside the leaves, mud, and debris littering the ground, and a single iron door ring came into view.
“This is…!”
I didn’t know. Being the heir of the Bukcheon Sinmun, I had never even imagined such a mechanism existed.
Creeeak—.
Baekri Unhak tugged at the iron ring fastened to the ground, and with a grinding screech of metal, a passage leading downward yawned open.
“Let’s go.”
Clunk—.
Baekri Unhak stepped into the cave without a moment’s hesitation. Judging by his manner, he had not come here just once or twice.
“Well, well.”
Jin Muok scratched his head, then soon followed Baekri Unhak down into the earth.
Thud!
The floor was surprisingly shallow. It was barely three zhang deep, which, for a space disguised with brush and mud, was rather modest in scale.
Still, I had no idea there was a space like this underground.
“Master once settled here on the orders of our grandmaster, they say.”
Baekri Unhak’s grandmaster, who was also Jin Muok’s teacher, had specifically ordered the establishment of the Bukcheon Sinmun’s sect headquarters on the Guihwa Ridge of Jiuding Mountain in Sichuan Province.
In the south, at odds with a sect that aspired to the north.
Naturally, Jin Muok had been suspicious and had searched the place, but he found nothing out of the ordinary, and with no time to spare, he had simply dug a small escape hole as a contingency.
Yet Baekri Unhak had dug into the opposite side of the spot he had disturbed and uncovered this space.
“Master was busy, you see. But I was given a full nine years.”
As Baekri Unhak advanced into the depths of the cave, Jin Muok asked,
“Where are you going?”
But Baekri Unhak kept moving forward without a reply, until he suddenly spoke.
“I kept questioning myself, endlessly.”
Staring straight ahead, Baekri Unhak continued.
“Why can’t I simply accept the Bukhae Mupa as it was handed down? Why don’t I follow Master’s words?”
He had been obsessively fixated on variations of the Bukhae Mupa. Even on the day eleven years ago when he parted ways with Jin Muok, Baekri Unhak had been chasing those variations.
“Why do I.”
Holding his breath for a moment, Baekri Unhak let the words out like a sigh.
“Why do I insist on denying the martial arts of our own sect?”
Pausing once more to hold his breath, Baekri Unhak squeezed himself around a corner of the narrow cave.
Hwak—!
When he raised the fire-striker, the scene that unfolded before his eyes was—
“A stone chamber?”
Only three zhang beneath the surface, yet there lay a vast, massive stone chamber. Jin Muok narrowed his eyes, unable to hide his astonishment.
Creeeak—.
Without a word, Baekri Unhak pushed open the chamber door and picked up an old bamboo slip from the platform at the center.
“This—”
Chaaa-rrrrk—.
“…holds the answer.”
The bamboo slip, unrolling like silk, began to tell Jin Muok an old tale that seemed like magic.
* * *
The Spring and Autumn and Warring States Period.
An age of warring states, when countless dynasties and just as many feudal lords clashed in fierce struggle for supremacy.
In the contest over unifying Zhongyuan, generals of divine renown rose to fame across the land. Bai Qi of Qin, known as the Butcher of Men, and Wang Jian, also of Qin, who possessed both martial strength and strategic wisdom, distinguished themselves.
And that was not all. Lian Po of Zhao, famed for the tale of “Friendship Through Shared Hardship,” and Wu Qi of Wei, who left behind the Art of War of Wu Qi, along with Yue Yi of Yan, who had swiftly captured over seventy walled cities of the mighty state of Qi through a brilliantly coordinated alliance campaign, each stood guard over their states.
And then.
There was Li Mu of Zhao, who guarded the north, sent the Xiongnu trembling for over a decade, and set an unbroken record against Qin, a state of overwhelming national power.
“Welcome, welcome.”
The ruler who greeted Li Mu with a pleased expression was none other than King You of Zhao.
His given name was Zhao Qian, the younger son of King Daoyang and the half-brother of Zhao Jia, King of Dai.
An unfortunate man who had to stand against the boundless might of Qin.
“Is there any way we can stand against Qin?”
“That is…”
Li Mu could not answer at once. Even the fierce commander called the god of the north had no sure answer in the face of Qin’s name.
Turning away from Li Mu, who could not find words, King You sighed.
“Could not even the power of the north, unearthed from beneath the ground, accomplish it?”
Li Mu was said to have won battle after battle against the northern invaders, yet there had been one time when he fell into their trap and plunged into a bottomless abyss.
Yet, astonishingly, Li Mu returned alive by a miracle.
Having gained a strange power besides.
“If what you say is true, the power of the north can grind a thousand-jin boulder to powder with a single breath. And it is said to infuse weapons with some unknown force, sharpening invisible blades.”
Li Mu offered no reply, and King You grew frustrated.
“With that kind of power, surely you could hold your own against the Qin army, could you not?”
“That is not possible, Your Majesty.”
“Why not!”
“To master the Northern Power, one must first devote an exceedingly long span of time to it.”
“Then begin training now!”
Imok shook his head, his shoulders slumping.
“The Northern Power is a concept that has never existed until now, so it is unfamiliar to everyone.”
When Imok lifted his head, his eyes were heavy with raw emotion.
“We would have to seek out talent suited to it, nurture the people we find, and then give them experience so they can apply it in real battle. Qin would never be patient enough to wait that long for Zhao.”
Clench.
King You balled his fists.
Imok’s words were the truth. Qin was ready to march on Zhao at any moment.
“Second, the Northern Power is incomplete. If you wield a force that has not been refined, all it will bring is a backlash that returns to the one who unleashed it.”
“Hmm.”
“With me alone, we might win a handful of local skirmishes against Qin, but we cannot win the war.”
“I see.”
“And finally.”
Imok closed his eyes and spoke as though sighing.
“In my view, the Northern Power is not a force meant to be pitted against Qin. Perhaps it is a capability for a distant day, to prepare against some unknown evil that might one day threaten this land?”
King You, who had been watching Imok intently as he struggled to finish, let out a brief sigh and pressed a hand to his forehead.
“But apart from the Northern Power, I will protect this nation with all my loyalty—!”
“Enough.”
King You cut him off and rose from his chair.
“Leave.”
“Pardon?”
“There is no reason to keep a general on a battlefield where defeat is plain as day. Even if we cannot achieve unification, there is still another way to guard the Central Plains.”
King You pointed at Imok.
“Go into hiding. Leave Zhao and blend into some other state, and keep out of the eyes of”
(Zheng: the First Emperor)
Zheng’s gaze.”
“But I—!”
“Prepare for the future. Whether you complete the incomplete power or find someone to master it, you must survive by any means and fulfill the great cause.”
“Your Majesty!”
“As of today, you are dead to the world. So hide within the military gate you know best, and keep your lineage alive.”
“I cannot possibly—!”
“Begone!”
A sudden surge of force. King You, who sent Imok away, was majestic in a way that made a mockery of the common verdict that he was a foolish ruler.
“Why can you not understand what I’m saying? Is governing only about founding and guarding a state? One can care for the people just as well without territory or rank.”
Swish—.
Turning his back, King You radiated dignity in waves.
“Vanish from my sight at once.”
“My lord…”
Imok, not bothering to wipe the tears streaming down his face, gazed endlessly at the king’s back before rising unsteadily to his feet.
“P-please… may you remain well…”
Imok moved on unsteadily, and gripping the door, he managed at last to speak.
“Lowly as I am, please bestow a name upon me.”
Imok’s throat bobbed.
“Please grant a name to the family that will guard myself and this nation.”
King You, gazing at a serene landscape painting, answered briefly.
“Receiving the mandate of heaven in the northern sky, I establish a sect.”
Tears dripping down his cheeks, Imok clenched his fists.
“Bukcheon Sinmun…”
…Three months after Imok was officially purged, Zhao was destroyed by Qin.

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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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