Murim Psychopath Chapter 43

Chapter 43: Heavenly Wind Sword Art

At Namgung Byeok’s hollow laugh, the elders lowered their heads. They too could imagine how he must have felt at that moment.

Everyone present who had watched Namgung Hye knew how deeply she admired and cherished Do Heo-ok. As her father, he had to drive a dagger into his own daughter’s heart. There was no way he could have been at ease.

But preventing the crisis that had befallen the family was far more important now. There was simply no other choice.

“I, too, have something to say to the Family Head.”

As soon as Namgung In finished speaking, Namgung Jung stepped forward. Namgung Byeok gave a nod, granting him permission to speak.

“If we are going to detain Do Heo-ok anyway, then I believe we should also search the Hall of the Emperor, since it has yet to be investigated. The possibility may be slim, but someone assisting Do Heo-ok could be hiding here. Furthermore, the one who left the Bone Inscriptions may also be hiding somewhere within. Whatever his reasons may be, he is someone who has drawn his sword against the Namgung Family. As long as we do not know his true intentions, leaving him within the family is no different from swallowing a red-hot sword. Therefore, while searching the Hall of the Emperor, we should also send scouts outside the family once more to determine the enemy’s numbers and identity.”

Although Namgung Jung still believed Do Heo-ok could never have done such a thing, it remained an undeniable fact that an unknown force had surrounded the family.

If that was the case, then for the time being, it was only right to assume the worst and act according to Namgung In’s proposal.

“I have heard your opinion well. Does anyone else have anything to add?”

No one answered Namgung Byeok’s heavy voice.

“Then we shall end today’s meeting here. The Heavenly Wind Division will continue searching the family grounds as before. The Unhindered Sword Division is to immediately bring Do Heo-ok, who is staying at the Temporary Reception Pavilion, here. The Hall of the Emperor Sword Division and the Vault of the Firmament Sword Division will thoroughly search this Hall of the Emperor. Everyone else will head toward Hefei outside the family and determine the enemy’s strength. The elders will remain on standby at the Council of Elders and prepare for any emergency. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yes, Family Head.”

Namgung Byeok quickly assigned roles to everyone.

The assembled members responded in unison before pouring out of the Hall of the Emperor like an ebbing tide to carry out their respective duties.

Silence soon descended upon the once-noisy hall.

Yet Namgung Byeok’s mind remained as chaotic and deafening as ever.

Above all else, what continued to torment him was…

“When the Moon Is Full, the Emperor Falls; Slowly Advancing, I Become King.”

The ominous feeling that those words would come true exactly as written.

“…Just who is that man, and what is his purpose?”

It was his curiosity about the intentions and identity of the one who had written the Bone Inscriptions.

Capturing him would resolve everything, but Namgung Byeok doubted that either the Heavenly Wind Division, the Hall of the Emperor Sword Division, or even the Vault of the Firmament Sword Division would ever find him.

Had he been someone so easily caught, he would never have brazenly committed such an act in the first place. Besides, when Namgung Il had first entered the Hall of the Emperor earlier, that man should already have been in his custody.

“An enemy? An ally? Or perhaps…”

Whoever he was, Namgung Byeok wished he were an ally. No, even if he had at least known the man was an enemy, he would not have felt this uneasy.

Not knowing.

Every person inevitably feared the unknown. Even the ruler of a great family like the Namgung Family was no exception.

Much less now, when an unprecedented crisis had descended upon them.

Before long, only Namgung Byeok’s quiet sigh echoed softly through the Hall of the Emperor, breaking the silence.

● ● ●

While Namgung Byeok was sighing over the mysterious intruder connected to the Three Sacred Lights and the Bone Inscriptions,

Dong Bong-su, the very person responsible for all of it, was performing a “dance” empty-handed inside his room at the East Heavenly Guest Hall.

Enemy? Ally?

Such distinctions meant absolutely nothing to him.

He stood only on his own side.

It was not the ordinary notion that there were no eternal enemies or allies.

He was simply someone who walked alone.

That was Dong Bong-su, and that was the way he lived.

Of course, to adapt, survive, and continue hunting within Shin Murim Online, there would be times when he shared drinks with his enemies, or if necessary, chewed the livers out of those who appeared to be allies.

But fundamentally, Dong Bong-su belonged to the kind of creature that advanced alone.

If one insisted on speaking of enemies and allies, then everyone except himself was either an enemy or prey.

The very concept of an ally had never existed within his instincts to begin with.

Whoosh.

Dong Bong-su swung his fists powerfully from side to side several times. Then, without warning, he thrust one forcefully forward before pulling it back again.

The sounds produced by that continuous series of movements spread through the room, low and powerful.

Why was Dong Bong-su dancing?

In truth, although it looked like a dance, it was not one.

Calling it a sword dance would perhaps have been more accurate.

The only reason those fierce movements resembled a dance was because there was no sword in his hand.

What looked like a madman spinning wildly around every corner of his room was, in reality, his reenactment of the battle aboard the sailing ship against Go San-gong.

It was as though he were physically recreating a modern virtual combat simulation.

Whoosh.

As the imaginary battle against Go San-gong reached its climax, the movements of Dong Bong-su’s fists and body became increasingly violent.

As always, even while his body moved, his thoughts never stopped.

While his brain replayed the battle, it simultaneously analyzed ways to break his own movements.

‘I almost died.’

The more he replayed the battle, the more clearly he realized just how close he had come to death.

If I had been Go San-gong, and Go San-gong had been me…

‘I wouldn’t be standing here now.’

The Heavenly Wind Sword Art Go San-gong had used was an excellent sword art.

He simply had not used it properly.

If Go San-gong had only employed the techniques of the Heavenly Wind Sword Art at the proper moments…

His own defeat would have been certain.

‘Weak.’

He keenly realized just how powerless he still was.

He had believed he had grown much stronger, but he still had a long way to go.

Perhaps the uniqueness of being a game character had unknowingly planted within him the fatal weakness known as complacency.

In a sense, martial arts were far more overpowered than game skills.

The people of this world had mastered such martial arts.

And in a place crawling with people like that, he had allowed himself to become complacent.

Once again, he warned himself that complacency was forbidden.

‘I have to become stronger. I have to become much stronger if I want to survive.’

Leveling up was a given.

He also resolved to study martial arts with all his effort.

The movements and swordsmanship he had observed from Go San-gong possessed discipline within their structure.

Although Go San-gong had failed to make meaningful use of them, the Heavenly Wind Sword Art itself was incomparably superior to Dong Bong-su’s flailing or the gymnasium swordsmanship he had learned back in Korea.

Martial arts.

Through that battle, Dong Bong-su finally understood why the people here called it mugong rather than simply martial techniques.

Martial arts were not merely techniques that made one’s body faster or attacks stronger.

Even when performing the exact same sword swing, Go San-gong’s refined through martial arts had been incomparably more precise and natural than his own.

For survival, he had to master martial arts.

By the time he had reaffirmed that determination, Dong Bong-su had finished reviewing the earlier battle.

Bang! Whoooosh.

But he did not pause even for a moment.

He continued dancing.

The instant he resolved to learn martial arts, his body had naturally begun moving that way.

Before he knew it, Dong Bong-su had become Go San-gong himself, performing the Heavenly Wind Sword Art.

During the earlier dance meant to review the battle, he had reenacted himself at Level 7 fighting Go San-gong.

Now, he had become Go San-gong, fighting the Level 7 Dong Bong-su.

The Heavenly Wind Sword Art reproduced through his hands lacked the cultivation method and possessed only its outward form, yet that form alone astonishingly resembled Go San-gong’s.

The restoration of form.

His perfect reconstruction of the battle had made it possible.

Whoooom. Whoosh.

Heavenly Wind Flowing Clouds.

Heavenly Wind Thunderclap.

Heavenly Wind Opens the Heavens.

Again and again, Dong Bong-su imitated the three techniques of the Heavenly Wind Sword Art, whose names he himself did not know and cut down the imaginary version of himself.

In the process, he realized once more just how fortunate he had been during last night’s battle.

If he had been the one properly executing the Heavenly Wind Sword Art, then the “Level 7 Dong Bong-su” would never have reached Level 10.

But then,

Fwooooosh.

Strangely, the more his movements continued, the further they drifted from Go San-gong’s Heavenly Wind Sword Art.

At the same time, the sound of the wind produced by his hands gradually grew fainter.

What exactly was happening?

His movements were undoubtedly becoming fiercer.

And yet the “sword wind” he produced only continued to weaken.

That wind was completely different from the sharp “Heavenly Wind” Go San-gong had unleashed.

It certainly was not because of the difference between infusing internal energy and not.

Rather, Dong Bong-su’s sword wind had become strangely gentle and unhurried.

More precisely, it was changing into something that resembled him,

Nothingness.

It was as though the Heavenly Wind Sword Art unfolding from Dong Bong-su’s hands, along with its sword wind, was naturally becoming Dong Bong-su’s own.

If any elder of the Namgung Family or someone of even higher standing had witnessed his dance now, none of them would have recognized it as the Heavenly Wind Sword Art.

No.

In truth, the sword art Dong Bong-su was performing had already ceased to be the Heavenly Wind Sword Art in form.

If it absolutely needed a name…

Perhaps…

Windless Sword Art.

Whirrrrr—.

Whirr…

Wh…