The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family - Chapter 36

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

The Youngest Son of the Nakhyang Jin Family — Chapter 36

* * *

Gu Gunbaek, the Demon King.
As the current Gung-ju of the Namman Yasugun, he had displayed exceptional talent from childhood and grown into an overwhelmingly dominant force.
He had mastered every martial art that existed in Namman, and in the art of training and commanding ferocious beasts, none could match him.
Thus, he became the youngest Gung-ju of the Beast Palace.
His nature was unrestrained and bold—whatever he desired, he would achieve by any means necessary. Yet if something ceased to amuse him, he would discard it without hesitation. Consequently, he had raised and lowered Namman countless times.
Recently, however, Gu Gunbaek’s smile had not faded.
The growth of the disciple he had taken was remarkably swift.
Though the boy possessed innate divine power, his fundamental talent was simply extraordinary.
It seemed that before long, he would be ready to earnestly study the martial arts of Namman.
But what truly captivated him was something else entirely.
The Young Master of the Nakhyang Jin Family.
That is, Jin Cheon-u.
From their first meeting, despite seeing through his true identity, the boy had faced him with unwavering confidence.
Yet it was not merely that.
His strength, talent, audacity, and willingness to disregard all obstacles for his purpose—all of it resembled Gu Gunbaek himself, and his interest was naturally kindled.
One of the primary reasons he had become so captivated was the boy’s martial skill.
Considering his age, it possessed an impossible refinement.
Like a seasoned master who had crossed the threshold between life and death countless times, he judged situations aptly and executed his thoughts without reservation.
The image of him leaping over falling wood chips remained vivid before his eyes.
Even his martial technique itself was distinctive.
As the Gung-ju of the Namman Yasugun, he had witnessed considerable martial arts from the Central Plains.
He had seen the techniques of the Rival Sects and even the Eight Great Families countless times, yet the boy’s martial art diverged from all of them.
How could one describe it?
Gu Gunbaek stifled a groan and exited the annex.
Then, moving slowly, he advanced toward somewhere.
Circling behind the annex and walking a short distance, he heard the sound of a martial shout not far away.
He approached that location.
Suppressing his presence completely, he observed the source of the sound and saw Jin Cheon-u, whom he had just been contemplating, wielding a sword while drenched in sweat.
“Hoh?”
The brief encounter at their first meeting had not allowed him to grasp the full picture. But watching the training now, he finally understood.
The boy’s movements were like a raging torrent.
His sword moved as though one were watching the current of water after a downpour. He strongly deflected his opponent’s martial force and consumed it with that same power.
Should one be caught in such a current, they would be helplessly swept away by the relentless rapids, unable to escape.
Yet that was not all there was to it.
Jin Cheon-u’s movements suddenly shifted.
The fierce sword strikes, torrential as a raging current, began to transform—weaving moonlight into being.
The flashing blade light cradled the lunar glow.
Moving with gentleness and elegance as if infused with warmth, yet the single luminous line it carved would cruelly toy with any opponent.
Clouds obscured the moonlight, and the sword’s presence vanished.
Then, the moment the clouds parted once more, a terrifying flash of blade light streaked through the air.
Gu Gunbaek stroked his rough beard as he observed.
Remarkable swordplay.
I have witnessed the techniques of those called the Three Hegemonies’ Myeong-suk countless times, yet what unfolds now from Jin Cheon-u’s hands appears no less formidable.
Yet something still falls short.
Jin Cheon-u seemed aware of this himself—repeating the same sword strike several times, halting whenever he sensed the inadequacy.
“Tch!”
Not only has he self-taught martial arts to such a degree, but he recognizes his own shortcomings?
Could Darma, Cheonma, or Sambong have guided him thus?
This creature’s abilities seem boundless.
I pondered this.
If we were to clash with pure swordplay alone, excluding inner cultivation, among those called the late-stage prodigies of his generation, none could surpass him.
Yet Jin Cheon-u now seeks something new.
It is not merely filling gaps in what exists.
He appears to be creating something entirely different from what came before.
“Well, he certainly is an entertaining one.”
Gu Gunbaek grinned wickedly and approached Jin Cheon-u.

* * *

After completing my breathing exercises and opening my eyes, morning has arrived.
Feeling my body grow stronger with each passing day, I rose from my seat and grasped my sword. Stepping out of the room into the open air, dark clouds hung heavy overhead—as if the heavens themselves were reluctant today.
A downpour seemed imminent.
With a sluggish body, I entered the Training Hall and slowly drew my blade.
“Something is missing.”
What constitutes me now is nothing but the experiences of my past. I carry with me all that I endured then—my own martial knowledge and its essence—and it is precisely because of these that I exist as I do now.
Yet it remains insufficient.
Though I have not fully recovered the power I once possessed, even if I did, I could not shake the feeling that I would still be unable to break through the barrier I could not overcome back then.
A new transformation was necessary.
Something that could fill the void and allow me to take another step forward.
I began by dancing the Rapids.
I shaped the cascading flow of water with my sword, wielding it with fierce momentum.
Once caught in the torrent, there is no escape.
The essence of this swordsmanship lay in forcing an opponent’s attacks into the rapids and trapping them beyond salvation.
But I added variation to it.
I maintained my usual shifting stance, then swung again, this time infusing it with even more intense transformation.
Whenever something felt lacking, I did not hesitate to alter my sword path.
It had to fit my hand perfectly and strike where my opponent could never predict.
I had to forge such a path.
Next, I wielded my sword a second time.
I transformed the power of the rapids, infusing it with the gentleness of full moonlight.
This was not merely a technique that invoked the moon.
It was that moonlight itself.
Gentle moonlight that illuminates the darkness.
Gleam—gleam—!
Each swing of my blade produced flashes of sword light and sword traces that carried that moonlit essence. Not swift, but I had to maintain both power and softness with absolute clarity.
Again I wielded the Rapids, and once more I infused the gentleness of moonlight.
I could not say how much time had passed, but the moment I ceased, I felt my breath ragged and sweat pouring down like rain.
“Hah… hah…”
“Hahaha! Magnificent.”
As I steadied my breathing and began to contemplate the technique I had just displayed, a familiar voice made me turn my head.
It was Gu Gunbaek.
Satisfaction was evident on his face—he must have been watching for some time. It seemed he had come here deliberately to observe me.
I let out a hollow laugh.
“Are you spying on someone else’s martial techniques?”
“There’s nothing to spy on if there’s nothing worth stealing. It would be strange to spy on something that has no value.”
“True, it would be meaningless for you. I still have much to learn.”
“I hear you have restructured the family’s martial knowledge on your own?”
“Yes.”
“Do you wish to become the Patriarch?”
I shook my head at his question.
Becoming a Grand Master would certainly be desirable.
But in the past, all I possessed was this single technique, and circumstances never allowed me to learn anything new. Thus, I had no choice but to reconstruct the Water Moon Sword Art and elevate its level.
This was the result of that effort.
“It seems you attempted to capture the essence of torrential rapids within your blade. Am I correct?”
“Yes, but it remains incomplete.”
“A natural observation. How can a person capture nature itself? Even those called Geomcheon or Demon Heaven would fail at it. However, the fact that you attempted it and managed to construct a framework to some degree—that is truly remarkable.”
“Is that so?”
“Indeed. Unless I’m mistaken, among your peers, if you competed solely through swordsmanship, there would likely be no one capable of defeating you. Your technique is that refined and precise. Yet there are still shortcomings.”
“I am aware.”
“You should be. You’ve come this far without a master—krhrhrhh! The more I think about it, the more it drives me mad. Truly.”
Gu Gunbaek burst into hearty laughter while gazing at me.
He laughed genuinely, even wiping tears from his eyes.
His expression and gaze were those of someone observing a truly peculiar individual.
It seemed he felt something beyond mere amusement.
Without thinking, I scratched my head and steadied my breathing.
My conscience pricked me without reason.
In truth, my ability to construct such a perfect framework and reconstruct my martial arts was largely due to the one or two words Gu Gunbaek had offered me in the past.
Since this was not solely my achievement, the praise felt somewhat embarrassing.
At that moment, Gu Gunbaek stared intently at me, then broke into that familiar smile. As I unconsciously adopted a puzzled expression at that grin, he turned his back and waved his hand.
“In any case, do your best. With your nature, you’ll be able to forge your own path regardless of what you attempt.”
“Thank you.”
“Ah—right, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Why rapids specifically?”
“That is….”
Because you pushed me toward it so relentlessly.
Nothing sweeps people away as cleanly as torrential rapids.
The moment I was about to voice those words.
Gu Gunbaek shook his head as if he had no intention of hearing my answer, then began walking forward again.
Then a soft murmur pierced my ears.
“Before the rain falls, does a waterway hold no meaning?”
“…!”
“Or is your heart now flowing one-sidedly like rapids, concentrated in a single direction?”
I swallowed hard at those words.
Then I looked up at the sky.
From the sky thick with dark clouds, rain began to pour down. At first only a few drops, then it grew increasingly fierce until it became a torrential downpour.
Whoooosh—
“….”
I stood quietly in the training hall, letting the rain fall upon me as I contemplated his words.
Before the rain falls, the waterway lies serene.
Rather than sweeping away and consuming all in its path, it proves so alluring that a person willingly sheds their garments and wades into its depths.
Unlike the torrential rapids that drown all who are swept away, the gently flowing waterway merely tempts, draws one in naturally, and carries them along with grace.
I slowly raised my sword.
I swung it with deliberate care.
In a single stroke, I captured the waterway within my blade.
Not the violent rapids, but the soft, unhurried flow of water.
It streams and flows, growing stronger with each passing moment.
Eventually, the waterway that rushes before a colossal waterfall.
I captured the cascading torrent within my sword.
Whoooosh—!
I swung the blade, yet the form I envisioned did not materialize.
I erased the sword path that first came to mind and traced a new one instead. How could I express this unfolding moment through my blade?
The mere act of contemplating this question drew me deeper into a state of selflessness.
Soon the sound of rain faded from my awareness, and only the flash of sword light remained.
And from afar.
“Krhrhrhh— is this reality? Truly? You capture nature itself in a single word? Krhaha! You madman, this is truly entertaining.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————