Third-rate Martial Family Becomes the Best Under Heaven - Chapter 413

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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 413
Unlike Gae-cheon-sin-eung, who wielded dual blades in tandem, Injoong Sinma carried two swords but primarily employed single-handed sword techniques.
A deliberate distinction to avoid suspicion.
Moreover, the sword path transmitted through the Heuk-baek-sin-jo formed the foundation of his art.
-Krrrraaaaaaah!
The pitch-black right sword scattered black flames alongside the Ghost Valley Cry.
Like feathers drifting from wings, yet none could connect the jet-black demonic flames to the Gae-cheon blade.
Kwaaaang!
The collision. Yet the rebound proved weaker than expected.
“Cough!”
Internal organs convulsed as blood surged forth.
A crimson stream flowed down, staining the lower half of the pale face.
Yet Yang Hwi laughed.
‘This bastard’s aura… it resembles demonic energy?’
Not demonic energy. Of that I was certain.
Yet it drew close.
If Primordial Qi and demonic energy occupied opposite poles, then Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo’s aura and demonic energy felt adjacent somehow.
‘Which means it approaches Honeum, the very essence of demonic energy.’
“Gwi-nyeo. Have you mimicked the aura of the great Honeum?”
“…Who speaks of mimicry!”
Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo cried out indignantly.
She didn’t claim to be the original, yet she seemed struck by the accusation.
“Does Bon-jwa think his eyes are on the back of his head? Any fool can see you’re struggling to imitate.”
“Silence! My Ghost Killing Aura belongs to me alone!”
Ghost Killing Aura? The name certainly carried menace.
“I cannot fathom why you would forge such an aura.”
Suddenly, Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo’s eyes gleamed with revelation.
“Indeed, you are no fragment of Cheonma. You truly do not know.”
I had no desire to grant her any information whatsoever.
I fabricated an excuse immediately.
“One need only accept Honeum. Why forge such inferior energy instead?”
Maintaining my arrogant tone, I drew power from Hondan, deepening the black flames further.
“Behold. Honeum alone is true Demon. Ghost Killing Aura? Can such trivial energy dare approach it?”
Grrrrind!
Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo gnashed her teeth. Such raw emotional display suggested I’d struck a nerve.
‘She forged an aura resembling Honeum to counter Cheonma. Then…’
Could Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo and Cheonma share the same ultimate objective?
“Heaven alone judges who is right. Foolish one, can you truly ascend with another’s aura?”
‘This is a probe. I must answer carefully.’
“Whether it stems from my own strength or another’s matters not to me. If it proves impossible, we need only merge and become one.”
“…Is it truly the Cheonma’s Won-yeong-sin?”
Hooked. Keep worrying and stay confused, you bastard.
“You know little. Then again, if the great Honeum had desired it, you wouldn’t need to fabricate and harbor such petty demon spirits.”
“….”
The Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo’s aura shrank ever so slightly.
As if she were contemplating something.
In other words, I’d successfully made her believe I held the advantage in information.
‘Then I should press forward with overwhelming force.’
Perfect timing. I needed combat experience wielding only the black among black and white, fighting formidable opponents.
In the worst case, I might have to clash directly with the Hyeol-sa Ryeon-ju under my Injoong Sinma identity.
So the Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo was the perfect sparring partner.
-Krraaaaaaa!
Hondan’s Sword Spirit ignites with Honeum Blade Force.
As if I’d woven black flames into a sword and grasped it in my hand.
‘Going with Daptcheon.’
The first function of the Heuk-baek-sin-jo—Daptcheon.
The will to strike true, a blow that never misses.
“Take this, Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo!”
A sword strike of black flames that seemed to cleave heaven and earth in half.
“There’s a limit to how much of your antics I’ll tolerate, you incomplete thing!”
“Then kill Bon-jwa, Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo!”
If you’re willing to accept the arena being destroyed!
“So you’re the type who needs to be taught a lesson.”
Demon spirits spreading like mist, seizing dozens of paces in all directions.
More desolate than corpses long decayed, more murderous than blades honed through ages.
The mist pulsed and coalesced, forming a single shape.
‘Damn it, what is that?’
An image that would overwhelm any mortal.
Beyond the vicious form itself, it was the yearning within it.
The will contained within was boundless.
‘Truly a mad woman.’
People were wailing.
All were those slain by the Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo, their resentful spirits bound to her consciousness and becoming her strength.
What she sought to accomplish through them was—
‘I need to understand this properly now.’
“Krahaha! So you too walk a path beyond humanity!”
“Silence, you incomplete thing!”
The Honeum Blade Force cleaves through the mountain of wailing resentment.
It appeared as if black flames were cremating the corpses.
Yet the corpses harboring resentment were truly as numerous as a mountain.
-Save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me, save me….
‘Vicious indeed.’
Dab-cheon had succeeded in making contact. However, this mental image was far too vast to be destroyed by a single second of sword technique.
“I shall carve into you the vast gulf between our realms, Injoong Sinma.”
The corpse of Won-yeong transformed into a tidal wave across the mountain.
Intense waves of intent crashed down from all directions.
At the center of it all was Won-yeong’s intent itself—and murderous will.
To be caught in it would deal catastrophic damage to one’s spirit.
Before the massive wave could engulf me, I transformed my sword technique.
-Kuh, ah, ah, ah!
The black flame concentrated into a single point pierced through Won-yeong’s barrier like an awl, and I escaped through the gap.
‘Damn, I almost got killed there.’
This settled it.
The Injoong Sinma could never defeat Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo.
She was likely thinking the same thing.
‘So I need to do this one more time. The Injoong Sinma must be insane, after all.’
The three dantians unified into a single source residing throughout my entire body.
Seonhon Iwon-dan.
The Seon-dan and Hon-dan, along with the Primordial Qi of Hwa-cheon.
For me now, Primordial Qi was also the power of Hwa-cheon.
In other words.
“Honran.”
A latent technique for detonation that I had prepared long ago.
Just as I had molded Seonran with Seon-qi, I molded an egg with Hon-qi and fed it the Primordial Qi of Hwa-cheon.
“Cough!”
Blood poured out in streams from using Primordial Qi.
Yet I laughed fiercely.
“Honran becomes chaos. Let’s play more entertainingly, Gwi-nyeo!”
The Ghost Valley’s voice amplified even further.
The pitch-black sword grasped in my hand was completely engulfed in Hon-sword strength, becoming a towering black flame ten zhang high, burning brilliantly.
“You use Primordial Qi? Do you truly wish to see this through to the end? What do you hope to gain by confirming an already predetermined conclusion!”
Why cry out so resentfully?
Well, for an evil demon maiden, this must be maddening.
She came offering to help, yet her opponent wields Primordial Qi and stakes a life-or-death battle.
‘If you’re resentful, you shouldn’t have gotten involved in my game.’
“Who decided that! The end can only be known by seeing it through—kuhahahaha!”
With a single swing, I compressed everything with the momentum to burn even the heavens.
The greater the suppression, the greater the explosive release that follows.
It was a technique elegant enough to deserve a name.
“One Hand Scorches Heaven. Take this!”
-Krrrraaaaaaaaaaa!
Each syllable of the Demon Valley’s song was itself an explosion of turbulent qi.
A technique of such power that even the Cheonmu-sip-jon could not afford to underestimate.
“So you truly dare. You really do cross the line, Injoong Sinma.”
All emotion drained from Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo’s face as if washed away.
A cold, expressionless visage. No—the face of one who had devoted everything to a single purpose.
“Accumulated Slaughter, Demon Ascension.”
The corpses of resentment exhaled endless killing intent.
Like salmon swimming upstream to their birthplace, every corpse trampled over another as they clawed upward.
Yet the higher one climbed, the sharper the mountain became.
The final corpse was but one, and even it could not reach the heavens.
And so, merely a great mountain.
A deep mountain of killing intent and resentment that could not touch the sky.
‘…I see.’
My technique shattered. Scattering black flames like fragments, I plummeted and crashed into the ground.
“Cough!”
A clot of blood erupted from my mouth.
Vivid crimson, mixed even with flesh.
“Abandon your foolishness. Do you not know that merely touching the heavens does not grant ascension? Learn of the heavens beyond the heavens, foolish child.”
Her words were contemptuous, yet I paid them no mind.
I simply reflected upon the essence of the heart-image I had just tasted.
A mountain sculpted from killing intent and stacked with corpses laden with resentment.
Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo’s heart-image pursued a singular aspiration.
‘Ascension. Or perhaps, rising.’
To reach the heavens.
Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo’s purpose, everything she does, is for this alone.
She lives only for that.
Single-minded devotion.
A perfect unity—a heart-image of absolute oneness.
“Behave obediently upon my board. If you wish to run wild as you please, first acquire the strength to do so, foolish and feeble thing.”
Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo’s heart-image, spoken in an icy voice, grew hazy like mist.
Soon she vanished entirely.
Only my fallen form and the scene of devastation remained as proof of her existence.
“Brother! Are you alright?!”
“Hyung-nim!”
Seolha and Chu Dal, who had hidden with the Blood Demon Disciples to avoid revealing their identities to Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo, rushed over.
“I only meant to get a taste… but I lost.”
Overwhelmingly so.
“…”
“…”
The two fell silent. Yang Hwi forced his lips open as if nothing were amiss.
“Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo. Incredibly strong. I was genuinely frightened.”
In that instant.
With a crack, the white mask shattered, revealing Yang Hwi’s face beneath.
‘My brother… showing such emotion for the first time.’
‘The same brother who raged before the Cheonma, wearing an expression like this?!’
Despair had taken hold.
It was a common enough phrase, yet it suited Yang Hwi terribly—a look that didn’t belong to him at all.
A battle fought with only half his strength.
Yet even if he revealed everything in full, he could not overcome her.
The gap between them was so overwhelmingly vast that this certainty carved itself into his very being.
“Hahahaha…”
Yang Hwi’s laughter carried a hollow emptiness within it.
It was an emotion he felt for the first time in this lifetime.

* * *
Seven days and nights had passed.
“Sister, what should we do?”
“That’s what I’m saying. Chu Dal, don’t you have any good ideas?”
“This is the first time I’ve seen my brother like this.”
Yang Hwi had already been holed up in a small cave for seven days and nights.
He had cut off all sustenance and refused entry to anyone whatsoever.
“Ugh, because you’re like that, people call you Fifty-li Chu Dal.”
As Seolha vented her frustration, Chu Dal wore an aggrieved expression.
“Sister, you don’t have any brilliant ideas either. And Fifty-li Chu Dal? My brother publicly declared it should be Fifty-li Chu Dal.”
Seolha stamped her feet and glared toward the cave where Yang Hwi had secluded himself.
“My brother has never felt defeat since I’ve known him. We can’t leave him like this. Let’s just storm in there.”
“My brother’s pride is so fierce. Won’t that backfire instead?”
“Well, that’s…”
This was already the seventh repetition of the same argument.
With no proper solution in sight, they could only go back and forth with words.
But even that had its limits.
“The Blood Demon Disciples are maintained through fanatical obedience to my brother. If he remains absent much longer, control will become difficult.”
Already, faint signs of discord were beginning to emerge.
If another few days passed, there might be deserters.
“I should storm in there, give him a few good hits, and drag him out. Wallowing alone in a cave doesn’t suit my brother at all.”
“Mm. If it’s you, sister, it might work. I’ll be cheering you on!”
Just as Chu Dal clenched his fists and was about to excuse himself by saying he’d step back—
“Who are you dragging out and who are you cheering for?”
“Eek! You startled me!”
“Brother! When did you come out?!”
Yang Hwi had somehow positioned himself behind the two of them.
“Just now. It took longer than expected.”
The length of time was secondary—this was the first time such a thing had happened.
So as Seolha, I could only worry about Yang Hwi… ah.
‘There was no need to worry. After all, brother is brother.’
Yang Hwi’s inner state reflected in Seolha’s Peach Blossom Eyes.
A vicious sense of defeat being blown away by winds that shook the divine form itself.
The earlier appearance of Chil-ju had vanished without a trace.
Rather, the Heuk-baek-sin-jo was adjusting the direction of its wings to soar using the defeat and emptiness as updrafts.
“Seolha. Chu Dal. Were you worried that I, of all people, would despair over a single loss?”
“You were despairing. I saw it.”
Seolha, who possessed the Peach Blossom Eyes, challenged him on this point.
But Yang Hwi ignored her and continued speaking.
“How many times have I lost until now? More than dozens.”
Chu Dal’s expression became bewildered.
It was a story from my past life, so it made sense that he wouldn’t know.
‘I had been doing so well in this life that I forgot for a moment.’
A warrior must experience defeat.
For dozens of defeats become the foundation for victories many times greater.
“Fighting Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo taught me quite a lot.”
First. Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo desires to balance the strength of a Hwa-gyeong master.
Second. Ak-in-gok wishes for the longest duration and greatest slaughter to occur in Honam.
“So, Seolha. Our side must also have two Hwa-gyeong masters.”
The Injoong Sinma and Gae-cheon-sin-eung are one body.
So to face Hyeol-sa Ryeon-ju Pae-ung Ho-geol and Ak-in-gok-ju Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo, we need one more Hwa-gyeong master.
“In other words, you must ascend to Hwa-gyeong, Seolha, for the formation to be balanced.”
Bewilderment appeared on Seolha’s face.
Though Seolha had trained without rest and strived all this time, the realm of Hwa-gyeong still seemed distant.
“My heart is willing. But unless enlightenment comes miraculously at just the right moment, won’t it be difficult to match the timing?”
Even Yang Hwi could not pull Seolha to Hwa-gyeong by continuing as a martial arts scholar as he had done until now.
A conclusion reached after testing in various ways already.
“That was true until now. Not anymore. Because I’ve learned something thanks to Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo.”
The final information discovered through the battle with Jeol-ak Gwi-nyeo.
Hwa-gyeong is merely the beginning, and to ascend further, one must possess two things.
‘A unified inner state converged in singular focus. And… enemy strikes.’
“One month. I’ll bring you to Hwa-gyeong within a month, Seolha.”

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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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