Book 13 Chapter 5

The Second Gate!

- The Scarred Wall

To everyone's surprise, Elder Hui survived crossing the rope bridge, despite Yan Do's worries and expectations. Furthermore, he demonstrated a speed comparable to the younger individuals, astonishing many. It was clear he was no ordinary elder.

Although the unclear nature of the place, like a foggy labyrinth, bothered him, he couldn't just leave someone who knew about the existence of a true master besides "Talent of Taegeuk" and Bi Ryu Yeon anywhere.

The mountain grew steeper and more rugged. The dense, long, and beautiful ancient trees, exuding a refreshing woody scent, lightened their steps, and the thicker the forest became underfoot, the more it shielded them from the increasingly hot sunlight. Sunlight occasionally pierced through the lush green leaves, drawing white trails of light in the shadows.

There was no discernible path. As they walked, they simply went up and down. Wherever they walked became the path. Some areas had grass so tall it reached their knees, while other times they encountered desolate places filled with rocks where not a single blade of grass grew. It was still autumn, so the fiery red waves of plum blossoms, the pride of the volcano, which could dazzle the eyes, were not yet visible.

There was no need to strain their eyes searching for the second gate. When asked where it was, Jong Gye just smiled and said they would know when they reached it. Just as Jong Gye said, they naturally came to know.

That was the place.

It was a wide, open space.

It was so flat and expansive that it was hard to believe it existed midway up the steep Cheonmu Peak. Those who had traversed the rough paths, suitable only for beasts, instinctively recognized this as the second gate.

"Is no one here? It's an unsettling silence."

Yan Do looked around.

It was only natural that the second gate, like the first, would have an administrator, but no sign of human presence could be detected no matter how much they looked around.

Just then, Bi Ryu Yeon raised his hand and pointed to the front. There were no unnecessary or cumbersome words. Yan Do's gaze followed the direction of his fingertip.

It was a wall. A wall as black as the darkness of night, as black as pitch.

As if drawn by a magnet, people's footsteps led them towards the black wall.

Only when they approached the black wall, close enough to touch it by extending an arm, did they realize it was polished like a mirror.

"I, I can't believe it!"

Words of shock escaped Bi Ryu Yeon, who rarely lost his composure due to surprise or astonishment.

Even the slightest tremor in his outstretched arm, as he tried to touch the wall, was impossible to suppress, although he was extremely restraining himself.

"Why is this here…"

As he felt the cold touch of the black, ice-like rock with his fingertips, Bi Ryu Yeon's eyes sank into a deep abyss.

The wall seemed capable of preserving its pride, form, and appearance steadfastly against any natural force. The wall was that imposing, wondrous, and solidly formed. It seemed impossible for any external force to even scratch it.

However, now, the pride of the steadfast ink-colored rock was torn to shreds by the countless scars etched upon it. The once noble black luster, which seemed to have exuded high pride, was violated by countless wounds.

Centered on Bi Ryu Yeon's hand, the flat, black wall was densely covered with fine, spiderweb-like lines.

From one perspective, it looked like hundreds of turtle shells glued together, and at other times, it resembled a spiderweb cast upon a smooth, black, lustrous mirror.

'What could be making him so agitated?'

Bi Ryu Yeon was always lighthearted, perhaps even excessively so. Na Ye Rin had never seen him wear such a serious expression before. Bi Ryu Yeon and agitation—the more she thought about it, the more incongruous the combination seemed.

Even with her face, which she had unwillingly come to possess, she could not usually read Bi Ryu Yeon's mind. But now, it seemed there was a significant opening, as the agitation spreading from his heart like calamus water was clearly visible. As the shadows of doubt piled up, his agitation grew. It was even frightening.

As if unaware of her gaze, Bi Ryu Yeon continued to stare intently at the black wall.

'It can't be!'

Bi Ryu Yeon absolutely did not want to admit it.

The lines were thin and sharp, yet they contained an intangible sword energy that seemed impervious to the weathering of time. If it wasn't a divine masterpiece, it must be the devil's trickery intended to engrave despair into human hearts.

Bing Geom found himself unknowingly stepping closer to the wall. His gaze was blankly fixed on the patterns etched on the front of the black wall.

"Father?"

Gwan Seol Ji, Bing Geom's daughter, called out to him from behind, but he didn't seem to hear. His eyes were solely focused on the black wall.

Namgung Sang, Yong Cheon Myeong, Cheong Heun, Jang Hong, Ma Ha Ryong, Shin Yu Seong, and several others also joined the ranks, as if drawn by an intangible force.

This created two groups: those who approached the wall and stared intently at the patterns, and those who watched from a distance with a "What are they doing?" look.

Led by Bi Ryu Yeon, those who approached the wall stared as if trying to find and solve a hidden mystery within the black stone wall. However, the rock wall had its own pride, and absurd mishaps like holes being drilled by their intense and even persistent gazes did not occur.

Those who approached the wall stared silently at the traces for a long time in silence.

"Hmm…"

A heavy hum erupted simultaneously from everyone's lips.

The silence was broken by spoken words.

"How is it? Is it something to see?"

The voice that suddenly rang in their ears made people look around to find its source.

"It's here! Here!"

At first, it looked like a black rock protruding next to the black wall. But strangely, the rock moved and spoke. Even more surprisingly, upon closer inspection, it had eyes, a nose, and a mouth, though they were difficult to distinguish due to its shaggy beard. Some might have wanted to exclaim, "Wow! Isn't this a legendary talking man-faced stone!" but there were too many aspects that made them suspect it might actually be human.

"Huh? A rock can talk?"

Yan Do said, as if surprised. The reply came quickly.

"Are your eyes just for decoration? I am clearly a person, a person!"

It certainly seemed so.

The old man, whose age was impossible to guess, wore black clothes, and his black hair and black beard grew wild like weeds in a graveyard. Therefore, it was difficult to immediately believe he was human. He looked like someone who hadn't bothered to groom himself in a hundred years.

The moss-like weeds entwined around him, so it was no wonder they initially mistook him for a boulder.

"Senior…?"

Yan Do asked cautiously. He was thinking of Jong Gye's case. This old man's status was surely not ordinary either.

"Nice to meet you, red-haired friend! I am the examiner for this second gate!"

'As expected!'

His guess was correct.

"Then let's see how sturdy the material is!"

The old man, who had been seated like a rock rooted to the ground, suddenly stood up. He was very tall and robust. At first glance, he seemed even taller than Yan Do.

'Gasp!'

At that moment, Yan Do felt as if hundreds of intangible sword energies were piercing his body and he quickly retreated. In his panic, he retreated so abruptly that it took him a while to regain his balance. The peculiar old man's gaze towards Yan Do changed slightly.

"Ho? Red-haired friend, for someone with hair as red as if they've been drenched in blood, you're not bad! Quite skilled? To react to my killing intent and try to escape my sword's range."

The peculiar old man seemed amused. However, Yan Do could not accept this compliment favorably at all.

The old man's gaze turned towards Yan Do's waist. Of course, the peculiar old man was not so perverted or depraved as to be interested in Yan Do's stout waist. His sole interest was Yan Do's beloved sword, Hong Yeom, which hung at his waist and possessed a unique energy.

"A good sword!"

"It is my clone."

"But it looks so familiar…"

Suddenly, the old man's unkempt face brightened considerably. It seemed he had succeeded in remembering, overcoming aging and dementia.

"So it was, red-haired friend! You are his disciple!"

Yan Do was on the verge of losing his mind, wondering why so many people knew his identity lately. Bing Geom, who was watching, felt the same way about the matter. The strict orders from their master kept coming to mind, making him uneasy.

'What is this old man's true identity?'

"What is your honorable name, senior?"

Yan Do asked politely again. Even his sword energy, which had achieved mastery in swordsmanship, felt inferior compared to this old man.

'To be outmatched in aura by this chaotic fiery man!'

It truly was something to live long and see.

Because of this, Yan Do seemed to be in great distress.

He couldn't guarantee victory within a hundred blows. He had been trying to break through the intangible sword energy emanating from the peculiar old man's entire body for some time, but it was in vain.

"Wh-what?"

Yan Do, and indeed the entire delegation, widened their eyes at what they heard. The old man's name was one they had heard before.

Yan Do exclaimed in a stammering voice,

"Y-you don't mean the Sword Emperor of Yi Do Dan Ae (One-Strike Cliff), Yong Gyeong Ui?"

Sword Emperor Yong Gyeong Ui! Even from his epithet, "Yi Do Dan Ae" (One-Strike Cliff), which meant cleaving a cliff in two with a single strike, one could tell how fearsome and outstanding a swordsman he was.

"I, I can't believe it…"

If it weren't for the shock immunity gained from passing the first gate and the unbelievable incident with Jong Gye, they would have drawn their swords and accused him of lying. The oath they had made after experiencing the first gate, vowing not to be surprised by anyone who appeared next, had become like a piece of toilet paper.

Sword Emperor Yong Gyeong Ui! He was one of the few people Yan Do respected.

"I heard he went missing after the Millennium Blood Calamity…"

The term "missing" back then was equivalent to being dead, but unfortunately, their bodies could not be recovered. The situation back then, during the era of blood and death, was not peaceful enough to casually assume that someone who went missing would be living well somewhere.

As expected, the Sword Emperor showed a grim smile that seemed about to crumble his dry lips.

"What is it? You don't believe this unseemly appearance?"

His right sleeve fluttered loosely in the wind from his shoulder down. The two legs of the world's best lightness skill, the right arm of the world's best swordsman. The delegation now knew what that meant.

Gulp!

They swallowed dryly, but it only increased their thirst.

However, the Sword Emperor, misinterpreting their tense expressions, seemed to think they still didn't believe his identity.

"It seems the Sword Emperor can only communicate through his sword."

Thump!

Suddenly, the old man's left hand plunged deep into the gravel cushion next to where he had been sitting. Then, he pulled out a club, which could only be described as a long lump of dirt. From the dirt club, with withered weeds and scattered unknown plants still attached, dirt and sand fell with a rustling sound.

'What is this?'

They couldn't fathom it. They simply watched, hands at their sides, as the old man's unpredictable actions unfolded.

Bang bang bang!

The old man, who had self-declared himself a universally renowned figure from a hundred years ago, swung the dirt club with his left hand, striking a solid rock.

Crack! Thud! Thud!

With each collision between the brown dirt club and the gray rock, dry clumps of earth, moss, and grass fell off with a rustling sound.

"Hmm? Not yet?"

Bang! Bang!

Only after the old man struck the club a few more times did people confirm its hidden reality. Like a chick hatching from an egg, what emerged from the tightly enclosed mud shell was, surprisingly, a sword.

Judging by its wide blade and distinctive dragon-shaped hilt, it was clearly Sword Emperor Yong Gyeong Ui's beloved sword, Yong Cheon Do (Dragon Heaven Sword).

Renowned as the world's best sword, capable of slicing through tofu like butter, it was now so dilapidated that it would be questionable whether it would be exchanged for even a piece of candy at a junk shop after a hundred years.

Given its condition, it seemed to have been buried in the earth for years, even decades, so it was remarkable that it maintained its shape at all.

'Remarkable it hasn't rotted away…'

The scabbard, already thoroughly decayed, should have turned to dust, yet it had miraculously endured such impact. A wooden scabbard wouldn't have allowed such a reckless act. It must have been forged on an anvil for a season.

"Now it's somewhat presentable."

However, as it seemed to have been roughly cleaned, it still had dirt and traces of having once been part of the earth.

"Well, this will suffice for now!"

Then, he looked at the delegation and grinned.

"……?"

At that moment, the delegation still hadn't grasped the old man's intentions.

Whoosh!

Thump!

A sound like a small drum echoed.

"Cough!"

At that moment, as if in perfect timing, Yun Jun Ho clutched his stomach and bent in half.

"Tsk tsk! If you can't even dodge this, you're no good!"

Whoosh!

The old man's left hand moved again with imperceptible speed, holding the poorly preserved item.

Thump!

Another sound echoed!

This time it was Baek Mu Yeong. Having prior experience, he should have been vigilant, yet he failed to dodge. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"Oh dear! Even if you see it coming, if you can't dodge, it's all for naught!"

The old man shook his head as if disappointed. There was a hint of disappointment.

It seemed this wasn't enough to entertain him yet.

"Tsk tsk tsk! Young fellows, if you're this weak-willed, what good are you? Entertain this old man a bit more!"

Whoosh!

His sword, along with its scabbard, moved again, cutting through the air at great speed.

Clang!

This time, instead of a drumming sound, there was the sound of metal.

Mo Yong Hwi had blocked the old man's scabbard, which was flying towards him, with the sword he wore at his waist, and used the recoil to retreat backward.

"Ho?"

As if this was the first reaction, the old man seemed increasingly intrigued.

"Then, shall we?"

Whoosh! The scabbard moved again, agilely like a snake.

"Ah!"

Clang!

A stalemate! Both the person who thrust the scabbard and the person who blocked it with their scabbard were locked in a stalemate, unable to move.

Mo Yong Hwi was now pressing down on the scabbard that had been thrust at him with the scabbard held in his left hand. He also did not bounce back.

His trembling feet had moved half a step back from their original position.

"Ohoho!"

It seemed as if he was saying, "Now this is getting interesting."

Playfulness flickered in the old man's eyes, hidden beneath his shaggy hair and thick, bandit-like eyebrows.

"Let's see your skill."

He slightly pushed his sword with only the strength of his wrist. It was a small movement, but it contained immense power.

Mo Yong Hwi, without resisting the force pushing towards him, smoothly pulled back the scabbard he was holding and deflected it. Resisting at this point would have meant losing his sword or the advantage.

This time, the old man slightly pulled back his scabbard.

If he just stood there watching as it was pulled back, he would lose his grip and the confinement he had barely established would become useless, allowing the opponent's sword to be freed. If he lost the current confinement, he honestly doubted he could block the next move.

This time too, he did not resist but moved forward, conforming to the direction of the force.

'Twice now!'

The Sword Emperor seemed greatly amused by this fact.

'Then, shall we?'

This time, he rotated the sword to the left using the strength of his wrist. Mo Yong Hwi's sword was caught in the rotation, like a log caught in a whirlpool.

Being completely thrown out or, conversely, being forced to press his own sword down—both scenarios were disadvantageous for Mo Yong Hwi. Moreover, trying to resist with force was almost impossible due to the difference in internal energy. Furthermore, there was no way to stop the downward force.

Clang!

Finally, as Mo Yong Hwi's scabbard was knocked away, his chest was left completely exposed.

"Oh no!"

Mo Yong Hwi let out a dying cry, but the Sword Emperor's sword, or rather, his scabbard, was smiling mockingly at him, placed just before his neck. As a chilling killing intent flowed from the tip of the sword, Mo Yong Hwi's entire nervous system was forced to stretch taut. Whether intentionally or not, his body began to tense up suddenly.

The old man's mouth, buried beneath a beard dusted with dirt like brown frost, twitched. It was a smile of sorts, but perhaps because he hadn't smiled in a hundred years, it looked awkward.

"There were some of good quality mixed in too!"