Reincarnated Sword Ghost-Chapter 46 : Fortuitous Encounter

Fortuitous Encounter
Screeeech.
The sound of the massive iron door scraping against the dirt floor echoed loudly through the cave.
Beyond the door that swung open was a narrow, elongated room.
At the far end of the room stood a stone platform, atop which rested a wooden box no bigger than a fist.
It was much smaller than what he'd seen before.
Moreover, this time even its entrance was firmly sealed.
"You have a keen enough sensitivity; you can feel it, can't you? The Immortal Spirit Pill is right in there."
"..."
Jeong-un did not answer. Still, his words were true.
He hadn't even gotten close yet. All that had happened was the opening of the previously closed door.
Yet the presence of dense internal energy was so distinct it could be felt right on his skin.
'Just how much internal energy did they infuse into it?'
A sense of bafflement rose up in him.
Step, step.
The man and his guard entered without hesitation.
They strode forward as if Jeong-un standing behind them didn't even register.
'... Not like there's a way back anyway.'
The man had said he had already been here before.
That implied the existence of an exit to the outside.
That meant the path the man was following likely led to it.
Jeong-un followed at a set distance, his left hand resting on the sword guard, ready to draw at any moment.
When he had just passed through the iron door—
Bang!
—the door slammed shut behind them, as if on cue.
Jeong-un wasn't even surprised anymore. That was always the way in this place.
Even if there was no cultivation pill inside that wooden box, he wouldn't be surprised.
'The odds are low, but...'
Even so, the force of internal energy radiating from the box was too great.
How could this be possible merely with a cultivation pill? He couldn't help but wonder.
Even if the pill wasn't perfectly refined, he was curious about what could be inside.
Scratch, scratch.
He walked slowly toward the center platform.
The closer he got, the thicker the remnants of internal energy felt.
The two ahead were already in front of the platform.
But Jeong-un neither rushed nor cared that someone else would get their hands on the prize first.
He was a bit curious, but he had never counted that elixir as his goal from the start.
'What are they relying on?'
He'd seen what happened to those who'd consumed the elixir in the previous chamber—they became utterly deranged.
If, by chance, he ended up like that in front of them, it would be no different from having consumed a deadly poison.
"As soon as I saw it, I knew. That old man put some feeble formation on this box as well."
The cult leader of Ming Sect raised a hand, running his fingers along the box as if savoring the lingering internal energy.
At that moment, Jeong-un was scanning the surroundings.
He was searching for traces of an exit.
'The ceiling is high.'
Other than that, there was nothing significantly different from before. The room was still blocked on all sides.
And this time, there wasn't even a passage leading elsewhere.
It was clear that this was the last chamber, yet there wasn't any sign of an exit.
"Looking for the exit?"
"What?"
"If you open this, the exit will open too."
"..."
The man smiled brightly at Jeong-un.
Then, slowly, he asked, "You've heard the epithet of the one who made this place, haven't you?"
"Divine Physician."
"Right. A man renowned for saving lives. But why, then, did he build such a place before he died—setting a deadly stage for future martial artists who find it?"
"I don't care."
"After saving so many lives, he came to realize something: that nothing takes more lives than a martial artist. Just as much as disease or famine."
Jeong-un furrowed his brow, tilting his head slightly.
The focus of the man's speech had been oddly off from the beginning.
"What are you getting at?"
"If it were you, wouldn't you have thought so? Every time you save a martial artist, how many more lives will that person's sword steal?"
The man simply circled the platform, as if he had no intention of opening the box.
The guard kept his gaze fixed on Jeong-un, unmoving.
"My thoughts are no different from that old man's. Most martial artists are useless. For many of them, the joy of life is to fight for no reason. And those who claim to seek enlightenment by cultivating martial arts—what of them? Once they gain strength, they simply seek power and try to justify it."
"And the martial arts you've learned?"
"That's to fulfill my duty—a means to make the worthless submit."
'He's insane.'
It was ridiculous.
The whole premise—that all martial artists killed people—was absurd from the start.
Humm...
At the same time, Jeong-un quietly began circulating One Illumination Movement Technique.
With every breath, true ki slowly welled up within him.
He was glad the man was rambling—it gave him time to prepare.
"This box doesn't open easily—it must be bathed in a martial artist's blood. That's what he wanted, for people to keep fighting over it till the very end."
"You really are out of your mind."
He then introspected his body.
There were no serious injuries. Despite many battles, he hadn't been wounded.
His lower dantian still felt frustratingly empty of true ki, but there was nothing to be done.
Even so, he'd be able to unleash one all-out sword strike.
"Keep listening. I'm quite upset, since my original plan has gone awry."
The man spread out his right hand and with his other fingers stroked his palm—
just as if he were caressing the blade of a sharpened sword.
"I was going to cut off your head and use your blood to open this box, just to watch your eyes in the instant they went blank. It would have been a short moment, but seeing your severed head's gaze would have been truly delightful."
"Your tastes are abysmal."
"But the plan has changed. Now that you've seen through me, I can't expect a look of surprise from you, can I...?"
'I need to strike in one decisive blow when the chance comes.'
A strange intuition flickered.
Even though Jeong-un saw no sign of hostility from the man, he was preparing to draw.
He knew the man possessed inhuman bodily movement—
certainly someone who had reached the realm of a master.
He was already quite aware the man was on a whole different level.
'Even a master dies if struck by a sword.'
He trusted his swordsmanship. As long as he landed a hit, that was enough.
So he had to assume the man might dodge with the same strange technique as before.
Jeong-un spoke calmly, "All this commotion for such a trivial reason? You could have just entered, taken the cultivation pill quietly, and been done with it."
"... I see now. That's your problem right there."
The Ming Sect cult leader looked down at Jeong-un with the face of someone who genuinely felt sorry for him.
"You don't know how to seek the pleasures of life. Sometimes people even take the long way around on purpose, even when there's a closer path. Is there always some great reason? No, there isn't. People even do that just to look at a single small flower."
"You're hardly one to talk, considering you've driven hundreds to death."
"You remain prejudiced. Those hundreds of lives mean less to me than a single blade of grass. You should keep that in mind."
At that, Jeong-un looked at the cult leader for a moment.
A mirage of anger flickered in his pitch-black eyes.
"..."
Step, step.
Then, throwing caution aside, Jeong-un strode straight toward him, closing the distance he'd intentionally kept.
"...?"
When he drew close enough to see the man's face clearly, he spoke directly to the cult leader, who stared back at him in puzzlement.
"You must kill me today."
"What?"
"If you don't, someday I'll be the one who kills you."
The cult leader's lips parted involuntarily, his brow furrowing in disbelief—the first time he looked flustered.
"What did you just say...?"
"Having trouble hearing too, huh?"
The man stared at Jeong-un in a daze, then chuckled.
"... You really mean it. You closed the distance so naturally because you know it's your best range."
"Think what you want."
"Why fight me to the death? With your sensitivity, you must know you can't match me, not even for a single exchange. If you beg me now, I might spare your life. Try making that face."
"I'll be sure to cut off your tongue."
At last Jeong-un couldn't hold back, spitting out harsh words.
If he wasn't biding his time for the perfect moment, he'd have kicked off the ground several times already.
Then, as the man stared hard at Jeong-un, realization dawned and he murmured, "You desire this cultivation pill, don't you?"
"...?"
"Yes, for all your high-minded airs, you're still just an ordinary martial artist. You'll suffer all your life for that pitiful ambition."
Finally, the man said something on target.
'An ordinary martial artist—yes, that's true.'
He did possess ambition.
But the rest was wrong. For Jeong-un, improving his martial skills was simply pure joy.
Still, that didn't mean he was blinded by ridiculous greed.
It was just his nature.
If he'd only ever chased after absolute strength, he wouldn't have pursued such refined true ki in his dantian.
One Illumination Movement Technique, which he had made his own, mirrored his temperament—hence why his internal energy cultivation was so unusually slow.
The man, oblivious to Jeong-un's inner world, kept rambling, "What a pity. The pill made by that old man is absolutely necessary for the greater cause of Ming Sect."
"The greater cause? In the end, aren't you taking it as an individual? How does personal profit serve a greater cause?"
The man's mouth curled in a sneer.
"Naive child. Cultivation pills aren't just for building up true ki. Their uses are many. Especially rare ones like these—there's nothing they can't be used for. Well, you don't need to know how Ming Sect will use it."
Whatever his goal, it didn't matter much to Jeong-un.
They were just throwing words at each other pointlessly now.
When Jeong-un took another step forward, the cult leader's eyes flashed sharply.
"... Now that I know your purpose, that's enough."
In an instant, red true ki coalesced in his outstretched right hand.
It was vivid—like blood, unmistakably powerful just by sight.
His hand, now brimming with ominous energy, swung sharply to the right.
Boom!
At the same time, Jeong-un forcefully pushed off from the ground.
The instant he sensed true ki gathering on the man's hand, he moved swiftly.
With all the speed at his command—
he charged forward like a gale.
Ssshk!
At that moment, the man's hand slashed through the guard's neck.
It didn't cut—it twisted, melting sideways like wet paper.
The guard's face, with his neck broken askew, remained blank—
as if accepting his fate.
Fwoosh!
On the final step, Jeong-un ducked low and lunged forward using a forcible stride.
Boom!
True ki from his rear leg instantly scraped up all the cultivated power in his body.
True ki raced through his meridians at tremendous speed.
His sword-arm trembled faintly with the force of the draw.
Shhk!
The man, without a glance at Jeong-un who was charging at him,
slammed the guard's head into the wooden box.
The guard's shattered, unrecognizable head struck the box and burst like a gourd.
Shing!
Jeong-un's sword slid smoothly from its dark scabbard.
As soon as it left the sheath, the blade radiated a thunderous golden light,
now wrapped more powerfully than before in vital ki.
Whoosh—!
He swept the blade straight at the man's mouth.
Click.
At the same time, a small sound came from the box.
And, at last, the cult leader's twisted eyes turned toward Jeong-un.
In that instant, their gazes met.
[You carry something in your body that defies all reason.]
It wasn't a sound, but something closer to a mental transmission.
Rather than hearing syllables in order, the meaning of the sentence itself rang in his head.
A technique distinct from ordinary sound transmission.
'It doesn't matter.'
Already, the blade was slicing through the man's grinning lips.
It was the most powerful move he had ever performed.
With this blow, Traceless Flash had evolved yet again—he could feel it.
When at last he had cleanly split the man's head—
"...?"
—the sensation in his hand was the same familiar emptiness.
'Why...?'
At that moment, he felt a wave of bursting energy closing in from his side.
Turning, he saw the man's smiling face.
A deception...
No, it was more than that—it felt almost like a doppelganger.
Wham!
The man's technique struck from the side.
Agonizing pain—Jeong-un twisted his body midair, lessening the impact.
He avoided crashing headlong to the ground, landing on one knee.
In an instant, he realized the trick used against him.
'... Heavy striking technique?'
No matter how hard he tried to stir One Illumination Movement Technique, true ki wouldn't respond.
The internal energy that had circulated through his body like a heartbeat was now completely still.
His inner organs' energy flow had been knotted in an instant.
From in front, the man's voice came—
"A remarkable extraordinary slash. But you must realize—even the fastest blade cannot cut what cannot be cut."
"..."
He didn't answer.
That was the plain truth. He'd certainly landed a cut, yet it was as if he'd sliced the empty air again.
Was this some supernatural sorcery?
The man picked up the box with one hand and smiled.
Then, stepping lightly—he was suddenly right in front of Jeong-un's nose,
almost skipping with glee.
He thrust the box into Jeong-un's face.
"Here—it's the fortuitous encounter you wished for."
Jeong-un wasn't listening to his words.
As he met the man's blood-red gaze, he realized just how vast and boundless the world of martial arts was.
At the same time, as the box's lid was released, dense internal energy leaked out, blurring his senses.
It was an intense, overwhelming energy unlike anything he'd ever felt.
'Not even having taken the cultivation pill...'
He muttered to himself, drifting into a hazy state.
For the first time since arriving here, Jeong-un found himself feeling a hint of desire.
"See with your own eyes. And be tormented for eternity by what you cannot obtain."
The man's eyes sparkled as he taunted, lips curling up.
With a faint scraping sound, the lid of the box slid open.
Fwaaa—
The lingering energy stored for ages exploded forth, flooding the room.
Inside the box, a blindingly white cultivation pill gleamed.
It looked nothing like a medicinal concoction.
He could not even guess what it was made of.
The cult leader's eyes blazed with greedy crimson hunger.
At that moment—
Ssslk.
The cultivation pill unraveled.
"...?"
It didn't break or collapse.
It simply scattered, dissolving into the air like smoke.
Watching helplessly, the cult leader's eyes widened.
"That wretched old man—there's a limit to how twisted one can be!"
His enraged voice ripped through the cave.
Jeong-un, in his daze, was simply breathing.
It was a natural reflex. He had always breathed this way.
And so, on that unconscious inhale—
a torrent of profound true ki poured in, more intense than he had ever experienced.
The cult leader's eyes bulged.
"You lunatic!"
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Showboating comes with consequences...
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】