Ultimate Martial Venerable - Chapter 31

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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 31. Kkamangi Will Not Be Sold
Two days later, a cold wind blew past the north gate of Ganglim Castle.
Yuk Ho checked the bindings of the luggage several times before finally releasing his grip. His face held words left unsaid, but faced with his son in the flesh, he did not let them spill out at length.

“I won’t lecture you long.”

His gaze drifted between Yuk Beom and Yuk Myeong.

“You may quarrel at home, but out in the world you are both of the Yuk Clan. Watch each other’s backs.”
“Am I to guard the back of that wretch?”

At Yuk Myeong’s dissatisfied question, Yuk Ho let out a soft laugh.

“If you fall first, he’ll guard yours.”
“That’s even worse.”

His words held firmness, though Yuk Myeong did not deny the sentiment.
Yuk Ho patted his son’s shoulder twice.

“Since this is your first journey, stay close to Yuk Myeong. Don’t miss the registration date, and be sure you both return by the new year.”
“Understood.”

Kkamangi waved his front paws from Yuk Beom’s shoulder. When Yuk Ho raised his hand to receive them, the creature let out a low sound and suddenly licked Yuk Beom’s cheek.

“Stop.”

Even as Yuk Beom pushed away the wet tongue, Kkamangi would not cease the mischief.

“You’ll have better things to eat when we get to the academy.”

At those words, his black ears perked up at once.
Before stepping through the gate, Yuk Beom turned his head toward West Mountain.
A small figure stood distant on the far ridge. His face could not be seen, yet there was no mistaking who he was.
As Yuk Beom bowed slightly, O Jin returned the gesture from afar with the same motion.
No words passed between them.
What had already been exchanged was sufficient.
As Ganglim Castle receded from view, Yuk Myeong’s gaze beside him kept drifting to his left hand.
Each time the character ‘Yuk’ on the Black Ring caught the sunlight, his eyes moved with it.

“If you have something to say, speak.”

When Yuk Beom broke the silence first, his pace slowed for a moment.

“That’s the Clan Head’s token, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“So it went to you, after all.”

A short laugh accompanied his answer, yet tension etched itself across his lips.
Yuk Beom looked down at the ring.

“I have no intention of becoming Clan Head.”
“Don’t explain.”

Yuk Myeong’s voice cut sharp and clean.

“I saw it coming, and I know now that it’s the right choice.”

His tightly clenched fist disappeared into his sleeve.

“What Grandfather gave you isn’t permission to hand over the position at once. It’s a reminder not to forget the Yuk Clan, even in the world beyond.”

As he spoke, his expression grew colder, emptier still.

“Let’s leave it at that. Holding onto it will only make me look foolish.”

Yuk Beom offered no excuses, no comfort.

“Fair enough.”

That was the end of it.
For four days after, the two of them barely exchanged more than necessary words.
On the first night, Kkamangi brought back a rabbit, which Yuk Myeong roasted over black fire with surprising skill—flipping the meat with his front paw, drawing back the flames just before the meat charred. The technique was better than most amateurs.
Yuk Myeong’s chopsticks froze in midair.

“Did you teach him that?”
“He picked it up watching.”

Kkamangi puffed out his chest as if he understood the praise, then went straight for the largest piece of meat. At the sight of it, Yuk Myeong’s lips curled—just barely—but he caught himself immediately, reaching for a single bite of meat as though nothing had happened.
The second day, at a fork in the road, Yuk Beom pointed silently to the left; Yuk Myeong chose the right. When a waystone appeared moments later, Yuk Beom changed direction without a word. Behind him came only a soft, bitter laugh.
On the afternoon of the third day, an unfamiliar banner appeared above the walls.
East Mountain Castle—twice the size of Ganglim Castle.

Inside the city, crowds lingered even after the holiday had passed. Carriages choked every broad street, and from the inns and shops lining both sides came an endless chorus of merchants calling for customers.
After nearly a day’s walk northward, an enormous signboard appeared.
Beast Master’s Lodge.

The moment Yuk Myeong stepped inside, he laid ten gold coins on the counter.

Two Cloud Heaven Sparrows to Peng City—the kind that cover ten thousand li in a day.”

The portly proprietor behind the counter held up two fingers.

“At that speed, you ought to pay twenty coins.”
“I was already cheated once. Ten coins—that’s my final offer.”
“Martial Arts Academy students are all the same—tightfisted.”

The proprietor grumbled, but soon pushed forward a contract.

“Fine. Ten coins it is. Though feed comes separate.”

Just as Yuk Myeong finished signing and turned toward the breeding grounds, the proprietor’s narrow eyes suddenly widened.
But his gaze wasn’t fixed on Yuk Beom—it was fixed on Kkamangi, perched on his shoulder.

“Hold on, please.”

The round-bodied proprietor vaulted over the counter with surprising lightness for his frame.
He circled Kkamangi, scrutinizing every detail—fur, claws, eyes.

This Wild Beast of yours—will you sell it?”

“No.”
“Hear me out on the price. A thousand gold coins.”
“Not selling.”
“Then ten gold coins.”

Yuk Beom’s eyebrows shifted the slightest fraction.
The sum was enough to buy a small noble house in Ganglim Castle with a single Kkamangi. But what startled him was only the price.

“How many times must I say it?”

As the innkeeper stepped forward with his hand reaching toward Kkamangi, Yuk Beom struck his wrist away.

“Kkamangi is not merchandise.”

A low rumble leaked from the small creature’s throat.
Seeing that money would not work, the innkeeper’s voice grew softer still.

“Young master, you are a martial artist, I see. What of a Spirit-Grade Martial Art? I can provide whatever weapons or pills you desire.”
“Not needed.”
“That beast is docile only now. As it grows, it may become a wild thing that bites even its own master. Leave it to me, and I shall tame it safely. If you wish, I will even provide a Spirit Pill that grants passage to the Outer Gangjing Realm.”

Even Yuk Myeong turned to look at Yuk Beom at those words. The Outer Gangjing Realm was a barrier that even the Clan Heads of Ganglim Castle seldom crossed.
Yet Yuk Beom’s hand already rested upon Kkamangi’s head.

“Not needed.”
“It is an opportunity you may not see once in a lifetime.”
“Kkamangi is worth more than that opportunity.”

A burst of flame erupted.
Unable to contain itself any longer, Kkamangi spewed Black Fire.
The blaze consumed the innkeeper’s sleeve, but a single sweep of his thick palm snuffed it out in an instant.
Yuk Beom’s gaze grew dark.
The force that had extinguished the flames was unmistakably Gangjing extended beyond the body.

‘Outer Gangjing Realm.’

The innkeeper, as if reading that realization, let out a laugh.

“A beast that can startle the Cloud Heaven Sparrow, then. I shall cancel the rental.”

Ten gold coins bounced across the table and flew toward them.

“You made a contract.”

Yuk Myeong stepped forward, but Yuk Beom blocked his arm.

“Why stop me?”
“He’s in the Outer Gangjing Realm.”

The heat drained from Yuk Myeong’s flushed face.
The innkeeper smirked openly and pointed toward the door.

“I am the master of this place. Leave.”

Even after stepping outside, Yuk Myeong turned back several times to stare at the inn’s sign.

“There’s no other inn in East Mountain Castle. We’ll have to take a carriage to the next city.”
“We’ll rest here a day and ask around.”

A sign hanging across the street caught his eye.

“Inyeon Inn. That name isn’t bad.”

As the two men entered the inn, a figure who had been following from a distance checked the sign and disappeared into an alley.
That night.
A faint haze drifted through the room.
Each time Yuk Beom activated the Blazing Gold Body,

the Black Ring on his left hand drew in the Cheonji Jiryeok. The power to pull in energy faster than the Ice Heart Cloud Stone had exceeded his expectations.

When one cycle of breathing ended, a knock sounded at the door.

“Yuk Beom.”

Yuk Myeong stood outside the door.

“They’ve got some food downstairs. Want to come?”

Kkamangi, who had been sleeping on the bed, opened his eyes at the word “food.”

“If he eats one more meal, I might actually have to carry him on my back.”

At Yuk Myeong’s jab, Kkamangi bared his teeth.

“He says he’ll bite you first.”
“Then leave him here.”
“Looks like he’s not interested.”

The three of them descended together to the main hall.
Despite the late hour, there were plenty of guests. Taking a corner table, Yuk Myeong slowly surveyed the surroundings the moment the wine arrived.

“We shouldn’t go back to the room tonight.”
“Because of the innkeeper?”
“You see that look in his eye and still don’t get it? If he can’t get what he wants for money, he’ll try to steal it.”

He raised the cup but didn’t bring it to his lips.

“Even at the Academy, I’ve seen men lay traps because they coveted someone else’s weapons. The world outside Ganglim Castle is far dirtier than you think.”

Yuk Beom glanced once at the shadowed corner of the inn.

“So you want to stay up all night here?”
“It’s harder to attack in a crowded place. Bad blood between us is one thing—being from the same Yuk Clan is another matter altogether.”

For the first time, Yuk Myeong himself spoke of “being from the same Yuk Clan.”
Yuk Beom pulled the wine bottle over and filled his cup.

“Fine. Then tell me about the Academy all night.”
“What do you want to know?”
Ilwonwon

.”

Yuk Myeong’s hand stilled.

“Why that place of all places?”
“Because I’m thinking of going there.”
“Do you even know how many branches the Martial Arts Academy has?”

When no answer came, a dry laugh escaped him.
He lined up nine empty cups on the table.

“Nine of them. Getting in isn’t the finish line. First, the new students compete among themselves, then they’re divided based on their scores and which academy branch chooses them.”
“What if you score poorly?”
“You end up wherever will take you, not where you want to go. Despite calling itself an academy, it’s really nine separate martial schools clustered under one roof.”

He slid the first cup forward.

“The strongest is the Yin-Yang Academy.

They only took thirty new students last year.”

Beside the second cup, a finger pointed at Yuk Beom’s Weaponless Heavy Sword.

“The Blue Sword Academy

draws those who use swords, and the Emblem Tomb Academy

focuses on movement techniques. Just looking at your sword, Blue Sword suits you best.”
“Go on.”
“The Hengsan Academy

specializes in body cultivation, while the Thunder Pavilion Academy

teaches rough, aggressive martial arts centered on lightning techniques. The Gongdongwon

has nothing flashy but is solid and reliable.”

Kkamangi pushed forward the seventh cup with a paw.

“That’s the Cheonin Academy,

where I am. It’s a mixed bag—they take anything, weapons or fist techniques, doesn’t matter.”
“What about the eighth?”
“The Myungsim Academy.

A bunch of oddities who’d rather mediate than fight.”

Only the last cup remained, isolated at the table’s edge.

“And then there’s Ilwon Academy.”

Yuk Myeong tapped the cup with his finger.

“Always dead last. They’ve got maybe three or four disciples. Nobody even knows what they actually teach.”

Yuk Beom’s gaze lingered on the final cup.

“Are they really that weak?”
“Oddly weak.”

The answer held more puzzlement than mockery.

“They’re the oldest branch—been here since the academy was founded. I hear Ilwon used to be more famous than the Martial Arts Academy back in the day. Now they finish dead last every year, but their graduates who leave here all make names for themselves out in the world.”
“Interesting.”
“What’s even stranger is their Sageun, Do Gwang. He ignores all the talented prodigies everyone wants, and there’s a rumor he takes in weaklings who get beaten down everywhere else and teaches them.”

Yuk Beom found himself more curious about why O Jin had singled out that academy.

“You said you’re in the Cheonin Academy, right?”
“My entrance scores weren’t good.”

Yuk Myeong returned the cup with a rueful smile.

“Jang Wol Ham came from the same place originally. He switched over to Emblem Tomb Academy later, after attaching himself to one of their senior practitioners.”

Yuk Beom took only a single sip of his drink.
At his lack of further inquiry, Yuk Myeong did not bring up that name again.
When the food arrived, Kkamangi dragged an entire plate toward himself. The two men made no move to stop him, dividing the remaining dishes between them instead.
The lanterns in the great hall dimmed one by one, and fewer guests remained.
In a shadowed corner sat Seo Dan, the portly innkeeper they had seen that afternoon.
He had waited for the two men to retire upstairs, but the bottles only kept multiplying. His gaze remained fixed on Kkamangi throughout.
A rare hybrid—blood of dragon-kind and wild beast mingled together.
If his judgment was sound, when fully grown it could match a martial artist at the Earth Strength Realm, or perhaps even the Heaven Strength Realm. It was no beast that could be priced in gold or martial arts.

‘There’s no need to wait.’

Once fewer people remained, he would take it by force.
Then the inn door swung open.
A crimson martial robe and hair bound high caught his eye first.

“Bring all your food out here. I’m starving—make it quick.”

At the clear, unguarded voice, Yuk Beom turned his head.
The woman about to take her seat swept her gaze across the hall and their eyes met.
The same word burst from both their mouths at once.

“You!”

It was Hwan Wol, whom he had encountered in the dragon’s nest on West Mountain.
The chair toppled backward.
The Red Dagger ignited in her hand, trailing flame.

“This time, you’re not getting away.”

Hwan Wol’s form flashed like lightning across the table toward him.

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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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