Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven - Chapter 223

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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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Third-rate Martial Arts Family, Greatest Under Heaven – Episode 223
A memory from my past life, lingering in my mind.
“Master Okcheon. Why didn’t you participate in the Dragon Phoenix Gathering?”
“….”
Okcheon offered no reply.
Instead, he drew his blade and drove it deep into a massive boulder with a resounding crash, then stood with arms crossed, glowering.
It was a familiar occurrence, and each time it happened, I would sigh and speak thus.
“Brother Okcheon.”
“That’s right!”
The menace that had clouded his features vanished as if washed away, and Okcheon’s expression brightened into his usual hearty grin.
“Though the world is vast, all four seas belong to the East! Therefore, we are as brothers!”
“Had Brother Okcheon married earlier, you’d have a son of such caliber….”
“Who in this world bears a child at thirteen!”
“I suspect you’d find quite a few if you looked.”
“Ahem! Junior Yang Hwi! Since ancient times, a younger brother must never contradict his elder!”
Okcheon was thirteen years my senior, at twenty-two years old.
The age gap was such that uncle and nephew would be more fitting titles than elder and younger brother.
Yet Okcheon refused to speak unless I addressed him as my elder brother.
From our first meeting until now, it had always been thus.
“I’m already grieved enough that I haven’t married at this age! Must I also hear myself called uncle!”
He was utterly unreasonable—whether one should call it unbecoming of a Daoist or, conversely, perfectly befitting one.
He was a man whose own world was absolute.
“Sigh, very well. So what is Brother Okcheon’s reason for not participating in the Dragon Phoenix Gathering?”
“You didn’t participate either. With your level of skill, you would have gained considerable renown.”
“Ah, what need have I of renown.”
I recalled the memory of going to Mu-han with the intention of participating, only to be defeated by a mere assassin.
I shook my head and continued.
“But Brother Okcheon’s situation is quite different. The position of First Dragon should have been yours for the taking.”
Okcheon nodded, acknowledging the truth of my words.
“Perhaps it would have been! But listen here! What importance does renown truly hold!”
“Talented individuals would have flocked to the declining Hwa-san Sect, wouldn’t they?”
“There are still many talents! That is not what truly matters! For a warrior, only one thing is important! The martial way itself!”
Okcheon grinned wickedly and drew the blade from the boulder.
“The essence of a martial sect is the martial way! Therefore, my sole aspiration, Okcheon, is but one! To restore the plum blossom of Hwa-san! Come now, are you ready! Junior Yang Hwi! Let us bloom our blades once more today! Hahahaha!”
Hearty laughter rang out, and with it, petals bloomed.
Though the blade is a tool of death, life flowered from its tip.
Swooooosh—!
Plum blossoms rippling like wind-swept waves.
The thirteenth form of the Plum Blossom Twenty-Four Techniques that Okcheon had painstakingly restored.
The opening move of Hwapung Maeryang.
“Yang Hwi! Remember this! We are those who speak through our blades! Show your elder brother the Gae-cheon through your sword!”
It was truly beautiful—without realizing it, I harbored a single desire.
To bloom such a magnificent sight through my own blade.
“I shall! Today I will scatter it all!”
“Hahahaha! Bloom as much as you wish!”
Master and disciple are inherently a relationship of giving and becoming alike.
Though we had not formally sworn the oath of teacher and student, in this moment there was one who advanced first to give, and another who rushed forward seeking to resemble him.

* * *
‘Now that I think about it, why is Okcheon in Mu-han?’
In my previous life, Okcheon showed no interest in fame and devoted himself solely to restoring the lost sword techniques.
He had even left the Hwa-san Sect and wandered the realm without forming such connections.
So wearing Hwa-san robes and being in Mu-han made no sense… Ugh!
Clang!
“Distracted thoughts! You seem to have leisure!”
Petals scatter on the wind. Flowing plum blossoms ripple like waves.
The Hwa-san First Sword Technique, Plum Blossom Twenty-Four Hands. The thirteenth form among them.
Hwapung Maeryang.
‘He’s serious from the start!’
I infuse my blade with energy. Simultaneously, I concentrate my spirit and wring out my will.
Living Energy—the energy gains will and obtains life.
Void Grasping Form—finally leaving the blade, it takes shape.
Kiiiiaaaa!
A hawk’s cry echoing from the blade.
Pure white feathers bloom to match it.
Like feathers drifting down behind a hawk beating its wings and taking flight.
Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom, Second Secret.
Wind-Born Feathers!
Wind births feathers.
Feathers and petals collide, creating a silent roar.
Each one a feather and petal woven from energy infused with will.
Where one meets another, instead of becoming two, they scatter and vanish.
For something created by merely two blades, it was excessively magnificent.
“Indeed, quite different from the rumors! Were you hiding your true identity and strength!”
I threw my body backward to evade Okcheon’s renewed assault.
‘I must clear up this misunderstanding first.’
“Wait! Why did you ask if I was the Hyeol Gyoju!”
There were many things I didn’t understand, but this was the most absurd.
Hyeol Gyoju? Me? Why?
“The attack from before! The Blood Sect’s members all fled to where you were staying and were captured, were they not!”
In that moment, I recalled the information Chu Dal had conveyed to me.
The nocturnal assault that had unfolded from five directions.
Those blood-soaked bastards had indiscriminately slaughtered before moving in unison toward the center of Mu-han, where they were annihilated.
‘And of all places, the Juru where I’m staying happens to be at the center of Mu-han?’
Such an absurd misunderstanding?
“That’s not it! It’s mere coincidence!”
“Everyone makes such excuses!”
“Besides, the evidence is flimsy at best!”
“Of course there’s other evidence! Hyeol Gyoju! At the very least, your family knows of the Blood God Sect!”
“If I were one of them, would I have published such a text!”
“That itself could be a deception meant to make us think that way!”
“By that logic, doesn’t Okcheon also know of the Blood God Sect!”
“Precisely! Which is why we must take time to understand one another! Did I not say so! No room for discussion!”
‘This is infuriating.’
Okcheon swings his blade, and in its wake, a cascade of petals pours forth.
I deflect with feathers as before, but this time I channel my Seon-gi with particular intensity.
“Look! Could those Blood God Sect dogs possibly wield such a force!”
This Seon-gi is so extraordinary that even Pacheon Eumhu and Lakbul among the Cheonmu-sip-jon had sensed something special in it.
Its inherent purity alone causes Daoists and Buddhists to feel affinity merely upon contact.
Yet Okcheon did not cease his assault.
“How can I know whether the Blood God Sect’s sorcery clouds my senses and deceives me!”
The frustration was enough to make my chest burst.
Then what do you want from me!
“A warrior speaks through martial prowess! Hyeol Gyoju, or at least prove with your blade that you are no spawn of the Blood God Sect!”
It seemed my Seon-gi had not been entirely without effect.
The way he was showing some restraint suggested as much.
Moreover, Okcheon’s words stirred my heart.
“Swordsman meets swordsman! Assassin Baek Yang-hwi! Show yourself through your blade! Hahahaha!”
When we first met, Okcheon had drawn his blade without hesitation, and after a bout of swordplay, he had proclaimed himself my elder brother and begun calling me his younger brother.
‘Yes, in a way, this is truly Okcheon’s nature.’
Words are strange and wondrous—no matter how truthful, they become excuses.
Then I would make my case through martial prowess and convince through my blade.
“Very well then! Don’t say you weren’t warned!”
“Either way, I shall enjoy myself!”
A faint laugh escaped me.
Enjoyment, indeed.
‘He’s already determined I’m not one of those Blood God Sect dogs?’
Yet there was only one reason he persisted so stubbornly.
He wanted to fight more, to revel in it while his blade was drawn.
Okcheon was one utterly mad for the sword, utterly addicted to martial prowess.
“Swordsman Yang Hwi, my true martial art is the Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom!”
As I cried out loudly, Okcheon’s voice resonated in response.
“You understand elegance! Swordsman Okcheon! The plum blossom swordsman of Hwa-san’s martial lineage!”
Clang!
It was a collision of blades, yet also a contest of force between energies themselves.
Soon the two swords separated, and the gap between them was filled with blooming plum blossoms and scattering feathers.
“Quite impressive for your age!”
“Impressive is an understatement—my realm is far superior!”
“Hahahaha! That’s true as well! To stand equal with me at your age!”
“This much is necessary! Who did I learn from, after all!”
“So you had a separate master! I didn’t know that during my investigation!”
“Even appearing as I do, I have a remarkable master!”
I was not speaking of Eum Hu.
‘Yes, I had always wanted to show Okcheon this.’
I had learned the art of soaring through the heavens from the swordsman of Hwa-san.
Thus the hawk that reached the sky became the way of Gae-cheon.
Something I had never shown to Okcheon in my previous life, an opportunity I never had.
“My sword technique consists of one hundred and eight forms!”
“That’s many! The plum blossom sword of Hwa-san has only twenty-four forms, and even now I haven’t mastered all of those! Hahahaha!”
We laughed facing each other and swung our blades.
In a single swing, all one hundred and eight variations were contained, and as if waiting, the hawk’s cry pierced my eardrums.
‘One containing one hundred and eight. The realm of the hawk’s cry.’
The hawk’s cry, the greatest characteristic of the Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom, can only resound when all one hundred and eight forms are contained in a single strike.
In other words, one could say it demonstrates mastery in the perfection of technique.
However, as is widely known in the martial world, a sword’s name can be released even without reaching the peak realm.
Then is the Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom merely a first-rate martial art?
It is not.
In my previous life, through my time with Okcheon, I succeeded in establishing what lay beyond.
Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom, Second Secret.
A second sword secret that can only be entered after a swordsman who has learned Gae-cheon’s way reaches the peak realm.
The transformation between forms and forms, the connection between energy and intent.
The Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom was a sword technique that revealed its true nature only after one was qualified.
This was also why I had freely shared the early stages of the sword technique with my retainers at the beginning of my regression.
“I’m going!”
“I’ll go too!”
Gae-cheon-bak-pal-geom, Second Secret, Hidden Meaning.
White Feathers Fill the Sky!
“No!”
Okcheon’s eyes widened. Though he had intended to use a different form, he instead manifested a new technique in response to my blade.
Plum Blossom Twenty-Four Hands Sword Technique, Twenty-Fourth Form.
Plum Blossoms Filling the Sky!
White feathers saturated one half of the heavens.
Crimson plum blossoms saturated the other half of the sky.
Whoooooosh!
Colliding, merging, then scattering like fragments of red and white energy fading away.
Though neither the feathers nor the petals had yet reached their complete form—mere inferior iterations—their power was sufficient to reshape the very terrain of this region.
“….”
“….”
Okcheon, who had been silently observing me, finally spoke.
His voice was unusually quiet, uncharacteristic of him.
“That was unmistakably the sword principle of Plum Blossoms Filling the Sky. How did you…?”
‘How? I learned it in my past life and researched it together with her, so of course I know it.’
But I could not speak the truth.
Instead, I had prepared a convenient excuse.
“Elder Okcheon, are you familiar with Baek Woo, the Sword Immortal and founder of our main branch?”
“I know of him in general terms.”
“Then what of the technique called Baek Maebicheonmun?”
“That… I’m not aware of it.”
Understandable. It was a martial lineage forgotten centuries ago, and centuries before that—a lost school lost to time.
Even now, Family Head Baek Moo-ryang only knew that the Baek Family’s techniques traced back to the Greatest Under Heaven, nothing more—a secret history of the Baek clan.
“I, Yang Hwi of the Baek Family, who inherited the martial lineage of Baek Maebicheonmun, a hidden branch of the Hwa-san School, offer my respects to the disciples of the main sect.”
Okcheon’s eyes widened considerably.

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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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