Ultimate Martial Venerable - Chapter 39

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

Episode 39. This is Ilwon Academy?
For ten days, Yuk Beom had not spoken a single word.
Whether his eyes were open and he was walking, or pausing to rest, his gaze remained fixed on the Weightless Heavy Sword

alone. The winding mountain path and the thick mist never once entered his field of vision.
Only the verses of the Dao Boundary Song

and the eight characters inscribed on the blade circled endlessly in his mind.
Heavy Sword Without Blade

, Great Skill Without Form

.
A sword even without an edge, and the fewer techniques one employs, the closer one draws to true mastery.
With each step forward, Yuk Beom traced the motion of drawing and lowering the blade countless times in his mind’s eye.
Il Cheong, who walked ahead, never once pressed him to hurry.
Kkamangi, who would ordinarily seize any chance to hunt for food, remained silent. After trying to scramble up onto Yuk Beom’s shoulder and catching sight of his eyes, the creature had climbed down of its own accord and merely followed at his heels.
The tenth day, afternoon.
The clouds that had wrapped themselves around the mountainside parted for a moment.
Yuk Beom’s feet came to a halt.
The Cheonji Jiryeok surrounding him trembled very faintly, and then the Fusion Strong Energy

that had been circulating quietly within his body flowed into the Weightless Heavy Sword.

Il Cheong’s eyes narrowed.

“At last, it’s done.”

A long breath escaped between Yuk Beom’s lips.
Focus returned to eyes that had been hazy for the past ten days.

“Ah.”

A short exclamation slipped out.

“So that’s what it meant.”

He raised the blade with one hand.
It was neither swift nor powerful-looking—merely a light stroke toward the trees beside the path.
Yet in the moment the sword passed, five trees bent simultaneously.
Their leaves and branches crashed downward.
Crack!
Unable to withstand the force, the trees snapped all at once.
A smile bloomed across Il Cheong’s round face.

“You’ve woven Cheonji Jiryeok into the Sword Pressure. Most impressive—”
“Burst.”

Yuk Beom’s voice cut in first.
A red glow flashed from within the broken wood.
Boom!
The trunks and roots exploded from the inside. Severed timber and leaves rained down, covering the mountain path.
A piece of bark clung to Il Cheong’s cheek, his mouth hanging open.
After blinking for a long moment, he brushed the bark away with his hand.

“Bundled Force Breaking

?”

Yuk Beom stopped mid-motion and turned around.

“What is that?”
“What you just did.”

Il Cheong pointed at the shattered wood.

“A technique where you compress force into a single point, send it flowing into your opponent’s body, then detonate it. Even Martial Artists in the Outer Gangjing Realm don’t master it easily. There are plenty among those who’ve spent their whole lives at the peak of the Outer Gangjing Realm who can’t even touch it.”

“And you’re telling me you grasped it just from listening to the Dao Boundary Song once as you walked?”

Yuk Beom looked back and forth between the broken wood and his sword.

“I didn’t know it had a name.”
“The fact that you managed it without even knowing the name is what’s so galling.”
“Wasn’t it thanks to your fine singing, Sageun?”

Il Cheong’s chest swelled slightly with pride.

“That’s true.”
“It wasn’t so much that your voice was beautiful, but that the meaning behind it was.”

The swollen chest deflated again.

“Did you have to add that second part?”

Yuk Beom wiped the blade clean without answering. The Weaponless Heavy Sword’s weight remained the same. Yet unlike before, when he’d poured strength out indiscriminately, he was beginning to understand where and how to channel it.

Il Cheong crossed his arms.

“So have you given that sword technique a name?”
“Not yet.”
“Think carefully. If you later make a name for yourself under Heaven, and people start calling it ‘the five-tree-shattering technique,’ wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”
“It would be easy to remember, at least.”
“You care less about your name than I expected.”

The moment the tension broke, a loud rumble sounded from his belly.
Growwwwl.
Yuk Beom’s expression stiffened.
Il Cheong raised an eyebrow.

“Looks like you’ll need to think of a name for dinner before you think of one for your technique.”
“How long have I been doing this?”
“Not long.”

Just as relief was setting in, ten fingers splayed open.

“Ten days.”
“……Ten days isn’t long?”
“At my age, ten days is like closing and opening your eyes once.”

Only then did hunger crash down upon him all at once. Yuk Beom pulled dried meat and flatbread from the House Master’s Token and shoved them into his mouth. Kkamangi held back no longer.

A black shadow scurried up his arm and snatched the meat from his hand.

“That’s mine.”

The crunching chew paused for a moment, then accelerated.
When Yuk Beom pulled out another piece of meat, a small front paw stretched toward him again.

“I’ve gone ten days without food too.”

Kkamangi thrust out his belly. The round, distended stomach showed no sign of starvation whatsoever.
Il Cheong, watching from the side, let out a stifled laugh.

“While you were lost in enlightenment, this wretch ate half my rations.”

Yuk Beom’s eyes narrowed.
Kkamangi turned away, pretending not to hear.

“From now on, you hunt for your own share.”

The black tail swept the ground once. It was less an apology than an attitude of acquiescence—*fine, hand over what you’ve got now.*
While the two bickered over food, Il Cheong set out on the path again.

“Once you’re done eating, follow me. We’re truly almost there now.”
“You said we weren’t far ten days ago, sir.”
“This time, we only need to cross one more mountain.”
“One mountain by your measure, sir?”
“A disciple with too much doubt wounds his teacher’s heart.”

Yet as he spoke, the corners of his mouth curved upward.
Two hours later.
As the sun caught on the western ridge, the three of them finally crested the last pass.
Yuk Beom looked down at what lay beneath.
He had expected to see palaces crowning the peak or pavilions that cut through the clouds, as at the other branches of the Martial Arts Academy.
No such building appeared anywhere.
There was only a narrow patch of flat ground, a few fields, and five dilapidated wooden buildings huddled in the center. Thin smoke curled from a chimney, and laundry fluttered beside a crooked fence.

“What are you searching for so intently?”
Ilwon Academy
(一元院)
—I’m looking for it, sir.”

Il Cheong pointed directly below.

“There it is.”

Yuk Beom’s gaze followed his fingertip.
Before the wooden buildings stood a stone monument, half-covered in moss. On its weathered surface, the characters “Ilwon
(一元)
” were carved, fading almost to nothing.

“That’s all there is to it?”
“What’s the matter? Does it look insufficient?”
“Given that it’s a branch of the Martial Arts Academy, I expected something a bit more…”
“Grandiose, you mean?”

Yuk Beom, hit exactly where it hurt, said nothing.

“A building needs only to keep out rain, and a room needs only to let you lie down. Martial strength doesn’t grow with the height of the roof—so what more could you want?”

It was a fair point.
Yet he hadn’t expected there to be no front gate at all.
Blue flagstones lay scattered across the center of the grounds, and the single character “Martial
(武)
” carved into them was so worn that half of it had faded from view. One of the wooden buildings leaned so badly that it was barely propped up with long wooden poles.

‘Master O Jin.’

Yuk Beom asked silently in his mind.

‘Is this really the place?’

Kkamangi’s nostrils flared.
The small head whipped to the left.
The smell of grilled meat drifted on the wind.

“Wait.”

Before the words were even finished, the black body vanished from his shoulder.
Just after leaping through the open window, the sound of shattering dishes came from inside.

“Whose dog is that!”

A stranger’s cry rang through the wooden building.

“Drop that! I waited three hours for that meat!”
“It’s got my meat too!”
“Han Pung, stop yelling and catch it!”

The door panel flew open from inside.
Kkamangi bolted out first, a chunk of meat larger than his own body clamped in his jaws. Three young men tumbled out behind him—all shirtless, their trousers sagging to their knees. Chopsticks and plates dangled from their hands, and only the foremost one gripped a gleaming jade-colored Long Sword.

“You little thief! Stop right there!”

The youth called Han Pung raised his blade to chase Kkamangi, then went rigid.
His mouth was still full of half-chewed meat, and his sword blade glistened with grease and sauce.
His gaze found Il Cheong.

“S… Sageun?”

The smile vanished from Il Cheong’s face.
First he looked at the jade-colored Long Sword.
Then at the meat grease clinging to the blade.
Finally, he took in Han Pung’s naked torso and sagging trousers.

“Han Pung.”

His voice was very quiet.
If anything, that made it sound more dangerous.

“Why did I give you the Jade Water Long Sky Sword

in the first place?”

Han Pung hid the blade behind his back.

“To practice sword forms, Master…….”
“Then why is there meat grease on it?”
“I got hungry while practicing sword forms.”
“And?”
“Isn’t a sword meant for cutting things?”
“I said to cut—not to butcher meat!”

His roar shook the mountain peaks.

Spittle sprayed across Han Pung’s face. Even Yuk Beom, standing right beside him, had to take two steps back.
Han Pung squeezed his eyes shut and wiped his face with his hand.
Il Cheong’s eyes widened further.

“Did you just wipe it off?”
“No, sir.”
“You wipe it in front of my eyes and tell me you didn’t?”
“I spread it evenly across my face, sir.”

The shoulders of the two young men standing behind shook with trembling.
Just as suppressed laughter was about to escape, Il Cheong’s finger pointed in their direction.

“Cho Cheon, Cho Haeng. Don’t you laugh either. Go get dressed at once!”
“Yes, Sageun.”

The two bolted into the wooden building as if they’d been waiting for the order.
Han Pung turned slightly as well.

“I should also get dressed—”
“You stay.”

His feet, ready to flee, froze to the ground.
Il Cheong gestured toward the jade-colored sword with his chin.

“Where are the weapons of the other two? You used your sword to cut the meat?”
“They’re gone, sir.”
“Lost them?”
“They were destroyed, sir.”
“Who destroyed them?”

Han Pung spread his hands in protest.

We went hunting in the mountains, and a Purple Fire Bird suddenly attacked. The flames were so fierce that both of their weapons melted entirely. I barely managed to catch it with my Jade Water Long Sky Sword.”

“A Purple Fire Bird?”

Wrinkles creased Il Cheong’s forehead.
His face, which had been searching his memory, gradually hardened.

“The bird—did it have purple and golden flame patterns on its wings?”

Han Pung’s eyes widened.

“That’s right. Have you seen one before, Sageun?”
It is Mong Un’s Purple Flame Burning Heaven Sparrow.

Silence fell.
The meat Han Pung had been chewing dropped from his mouth.

“Why was it loose in the mountains?”
“Can’t a Spirit Beast train in the mountains?”
“You should have at least put a name tag on it.”
“Now you’ve roasted someone else’s Spirit Beast and you’re looking for a name tag?”

Il Cheong’s voice began to tremble.
A bad premonition struck Yuk Beom’s gaze toward Kkamangi.
The beast showed no interest in the conversation at all. It pinned the meat down with its front paws and was tearing into the most tender parts.
Han Pung saw it too.

“Sageun.”
“What.”
“That creature is eating… the Purple Flame Burning Heaven Sparrow.”

Il Cheong’s body went rigid.
The flush drained from his face, leaving it ashen, then darkening until it turned utterly black.
Kkamangi placed the last morsel of meat into its mouth.
Gulp.
Only bones remained.
Wind swept across the open ground.
Yuk Beom quietly stepped back a pace to the side.
Il Cheong rolled up his sleeves with deliberate slowness.

“Cho Cheon.”

No answer came.

“Cho Haeng.”

A window opened somewhere inside with a creak.
Two half-dressed figures were already scrambling through it, fleeing to the far side.

“The Sageun’s face has turned dark! Run!”
“Han Pung, if you make it out alive, I’ll see you tonight!”

Han Pung, finally grasping the situation, spun around to run.
But Il Cheong’s hand caught him by the nape of the neck first.
In the same instant, a round form vanished and reappeared.
The napes of the fleeing Cho Cheon and Cho Haeng were already seized in both of Il Cheong’s hands.

“While your master was away for ten days, you ate someone else’s spirit beast?”

Il Cheong’s laughter twisted into something terrible.

“The three of you are making me fight Mong Un to the death today.”
“Sageun, at least let us explain—”
“Explain while you’re winning, then.”

A fist descended.
Crash!
Han Pung was slammed into the slate floor.
Strong Energy erupted from Cho Cheon and Cho Haeng simultaneously. Neither had the slightest intention of taking another hit—they split left and right, and Han Pung scrambled to his feet, wiping blood from his nose.

“You two seniors! We really have to join forces today!”
“You got hit first!”
“You’re the one who carved up the meat!”
“The three of us caught the bird together in the first place!”

The Strong Energy of all three wove together, forming the Three Talents Formation

.
Il Cheong’s brow twitched.

“You dare deploy a formation against your Sageun?”
“We’ll repent once we’ve survived!”

Explosions erupted in succession.
The slate cracked open, the fence that had stood intact moments before went flying, and the wooden building’s roof nearest the collision lifted bodily off before crashing down on its side.
Yuk Beom blocked the flying debris with the flat of his Weightless Heavy Sword.
Before his eyes, the Sageun and three disciples were exchanging blows in earnest.

“A newcomer is watching! Preserve your dignity!”

At Han Pung’s shout, Il Cheong’s fists accelerated.

“My dignity? You three ground it to dust!”

Even the single wooden building that had been intact tilted sharply to one side.
Through all the chaos, Kkamangi licked the bone clean.
Presently, a satisfied belch emerged.
Burrrp.
The beast seemed quite taken with Ilwon Academy.
Yuk Beom watched the collapsing roof and the three senior disciples flying through the air in turn.
For the first time since leaving Ganglim Castle, he seriously doubted O Jin’s choice.

‘I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.’

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