A Tale Of A Scribe Who Retires To The Countryside [EN]: Chapter 482

482. Azure Dragon’s Descent

The transformation atop Jade Emperor Peak on Mount Tai was unmistakable, even from the shrine below. The shrine, once proudly perched there, crumbled, replaced by a bizarre, stony formation resembling a colossal flower bud.

Quararararak.

“Hyung!” Seo-rin cried, as if ready to rush forward. But a pale hand gently restrained her.

“It’s alright.” The hand belonged to Sa Su-yeon, her voice tight. She clutched her sword, Myeong [meaning ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’], to her chest, her gaze fixed on the sky above Jade Emperor Peak. Seo-rin followed her gaze and finally saw it: a faint, descending light.

“It’s Hyung!”

At Seo-rin’s shout, everyone looked up. A blade, gleaming like starlight, pierced the thick fog, plummeting earthward.

Shwiik.

The immediate result wasn’t visible, but the bizarre stone formation on Jade Emperor Peak began to collapse.

Kururururung.

It was an unnatural structure. Seeing Son Bin emerge unscathed from the rubble, Old Lord sighed in admiration.

“Hmm, Bin’s movements are quite impressive now.”

His descent like a shooting star with Baekro [Son Bin’s sword] was remarkable, even to Old Lord. His admiration was genuine.

“Does that mean he wasn’t before?”

The voice belonged to Princess Gyeonghui, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Young Master Son is undoubtedly a master, isn’t he? An absolute master. Isn’t that level of Shin-beop [mystical martial art techniques] natural for him?”

In Princess Gyeonghui’s eyes, Son Bin was second only to Muje in skill. She sometimes forgot, due to his gentle nature, that he had disarmed the Hocheon Three Divine Seats [powerful martial artists] on Mount Huang with a single strike, leaving nothing behind. If that wasn’t mastery, what was?

“Well, Bin is a very unique fellow…”

Old Lord mumbled, unsure how to explain. He couldn’t convince her that Son Bin was clumsy with Shin-beop or Gyeonggongsul [light body technique, allowing for enhanced speed and agility]. Swordplay and Shin-beop were inseparable, so it seemed impossible that his swordsmanship was masterful while his Shin-beop was novice-level. But Son Bin’s Shin-beop was simply riding the sword’s flow, unlike the ‘Shin-beop of a master’ that most people imagined.

Princess Gyeonghui would never believe that Son Bin still needed to be carried by Geomhui, Sa Su-yeon, Dang Wol-ah, or even Old Lord or Seo-rin over long distances.

“Well, that probably isn’t Shin-beop either.”

Old Lord shrugged, turning towards Son Bin. “Bin probably just modified his swordplay. He’s not interested in anything else.”

Son Bin could likely discover something greater than any Shin-beop, but he was only interested in the sword. He would choose to cut through space rather than move quickly, making it a swordplay application – a swordplay that strikes down instead of soaring into the sky.

“Anyway.”

Old Lord frowned. “What the hell happened to that Bi-geom [tragic sword] bastard?”

The summit, where the shrine had stood, was now visible. Gongson-geuk’s appearance was no longer human. His power resembled that of a demon god, like the Demonic Dragon or Maeung from the Pasa Desert.

Silence answered him. Dang Wol-ah and Geomhui were silent, and even Sarasvati stared at Gongson-geuk and Son Bin with grave expressions.

“Tsk.”

Old Lord clicked his tongue, loosening and then tightening his grip on Soryeong [Old Lord’s sword]. He feigned nonchalance, but even he was tense.

***

The summit was in ruins. The shrine was gone, replaced by remnants of an artificial structure.

“Why?”

Gongson-geuk stood in the ruins, his voice grating. “Your power shouldn’t be this weak, should it?”

It wasn’t mockery. Gongson-geuk stared at Son Bin with jet-black eyes.

Seureuk.

Instead of answering, Son Bin looked at Baekro. Woong. The starlight energy on Baekro was Hyeoncheon Daeganggyeol [a powerful energy art].

Son Bin had shattered Gongson-geuk’s crimson blood blades, which even Ilseom couldn’t cut, but not solely with Hyeoncheon Daeganggyeol. After that strike, Gongson-geuk had recalled ‘us’ more clearly.

“I can see it.”

Gongson-geuk’s eyes gleamed with undisguised joy and greed. “Those fragments you have.”

Son Bin knew what he meant and why Gongson-geuk was obsessed. He sighed and looked up.

“You guys.”

Son Bin looked into Gongson-geuk’s eyes. “Do you still want to drink my blood?”

The question shook Gongson-geuk, unleashing a suppressed desire.

“Still want to drink it?”

Gongson-geuk’s mouth split wide as he laughed, revealing bone. “Yes, ‘we’ want to drink your blood.”

―Krrrururung.

The eerie voice echoed like a beast’s cry. It wasn’t a hallucination.

―Even if it means giving up ‘worlds’.

Kwagwagwag.

Blood blades erupted from Gongson-geuk’s body, like countless spear tips or whips, rushing towards Son Bin, each gleaming with jet-black energy.

Seureuk.

Son Bin stepped back, raising Baekro with both hands.

“Hoo.”

He half-closed his eyes, took a breath, and then opened them.

Huuuung.

Baekro, imbued with Hyeoncheon Daeganggyeol, drew an elegant line in the air.

Kagang, Kagagang.

The blood blades couldn’t surpass Baekro’s gentle dance.

Kagagagak.

The clash intensified, but Baekro danced on, and Son Bin steadily stepped forward, leisurely and naturally, never stopping.

“You bastard!”

Gongson-geuk roared.

Chwarararak.

Blood blades poured from his body, an incomprehensible sight, as if he was pouring out all his blood. But Son Bin wasn’t surprised. He moved along the slender possibility he saw, a flow that Okryong [a past figure] would have called ‘twisting the world’.

And then.

Sabak.

As Son Bin stepped, Baekro blazed with light, raised towards the sky.

Huuuuung.

Gongson-geuk didn’t avoid it, willing to exchange it for ‘worlds’. His blood blades rushed towards Son Bin’s back.

Kwagwak.

But Son Bin didn’t stop. As he stepped, Baekro fell towards Gongson-geuk’s eyes, dragging ethereal light.

Seogeok.

Gongson-geuk froze. The blood blades froze too.

Pasak.

The blood blades shattered, scattering into the fog.

Pasaseuseu.

Son Bin was revealed, but his expression wasn’t bright.

“Huhu, huhuhu.”

Gongson-geuk, cut in half, laughed behind him, a bizarre sound.

Seureuk.

Gongson-geuk reappeared before Son Bin, crimson rising from his wound, covering Baekro’s mark.

Kureureuk, Kkureureureuk.

The wound vanished, a horrific sight.

“It’s a pity.”

Seuk. Gongson-geuk turned, mockery in his eyes. “It was a great strike, but your sword can no longer harm me.”

Kwagwagwak.

Blood blades poured out. Son Bin retreated, wielding Baekro.

Kang, Kagagang.

Baekro and the blood blades collided, sparks flying. The blades were sharper than before.

“You’re retreating, Son Bin!”

Gongson-geuk laughed arrogantly, hands behind his back, the blades darker than before.

“You’re retreating before me! Why aren’t you using that power!”

Gongson-geuk shouted, bursting with joy. He knew why Son Bin wasn’t breaking the blades: the more he used that power, the more they would awaken, bringing Gongson-geuk closer to those beings.

“Khahahaha. Now no one can stop ‘us’!”

Kagagang.

Son Bin wielded Baekro tirelessly, but more blades rushed at him.

Kagagagak.

“Now the world will kneel!”

Gongson-geuk’s eyes were jet-black, as dark as an abyss.

―And the world will call ‘us’ fear.

Kwagwagwak.

Beyond the blades, a voice echoed, no longer Gongson-geuk’s.

―We are disaster, we are judgment. We will be the despair that swallows this world.

The abyss eyes stared at Son Bin.

―Everything of yours will be ours. Even those ‘fragments’.

A jet-black blood blade passed Baekro and pierced Son Bin’s left shoulder.

Peok.

Son Bin groaned, seeing the blade, like an insect’s foreleg, protruding. His blood flowed down it.

“Kheuheu.”

The blades stopped. Gongson-geuk, or the being within, laughed.

―Excellent.

He said, licking his lips. ―This is the supreme feast. The best feast to celebrate ‘us’ arriving here.

He said, ―With this, this world is ‘ours’.

“Is that so?”

Son Bin smiled bitterly, releasing Baekro.

Seureuk.

Baekro drooped, its beautiful blade shining sadly. The being’s smile deepened.

But Son Bin didn’t care.

“But not yet.”

Sarak.

Son Bin raised his right hand to the blood blade, to his flowing blood.

―It’s a foolish act.

The being mocked. As a ‘Raja’ [a king or ruler, often used in a spiritual context], Son Bin could suppress the blades, but that was all.

―The blood scales are still….

But the words stopped. Son Bin put his hand on the blade and said softly.

“Awaken[醒], Overflow[濫].”

―What?

The being asked involuntarily. The result was immediate.

Kwagwagwagwagwak.

The blood blade exploded under Son Bin’s hand. He was thrown back.

“Keuk!”

He groaned, but he saw it: the countless blades swelling as if bursting. The blood and lives of the Blood Demon Gongson-geuk began to awaken at Son Bin’s command.

It was an explosive change the beings hadn’t anticipated.

Kwareuk, Kwareureuk.

Gongson-geuk’s body swelled, about to burst. The new blades tried to cut him, but they too swelled. Each part grew as if alive, a terrible sight.

―Kuaaaaa.

A scream burst from Gongson-geuk’s mouth, his face distorted beyond recognition.

―This, this can never….

Seuk.

Son Bin gripped Baekro. “I have suppressed the curse of the Blood Jade passed down to the Zhuge Family, that is, blood and life.”

Son Bin looked at Gongson-geuk, swollen and about to burst. Sarasvati had said only a Raja could suppress the curse.

“Then Old Lord said, ‘Wouldn’t it be possible to awaken it in reverse?'”

―Kkeureuk, Kkeureureureuk.

The being couldn’t answer, its voice gone. It couldn’t move or create blades. Countless blood and lives were awakening and overflowing.

“So you guys.”

Son Bin raised Baekro. “It is not because of me, but because of the wisdom of an ordinary person that you fail.”

Seureuk.

Baekro drew a diagonal line, an ordinary strike that broke the tension holding back the overflowing blood and lives.

Peoeeong.

Gongson-geuk burst like a drum. The blood and lives scattered, losing power in the fog. Pasasasa.

The summit wasn’t covered in blood. The blood and lives crumbled like dust.

Seureung.

In the thick fog, Son Bin sheathed Baekro and walked forward.

“Kkeueueuk.”

Gongson-geuk’s head floated in the air, his face old and shabby.

“…In the end, it has come to this.”

The voice was mixed with wind, but Son Bin heard it. It was Bi-geom Gongson-geuk’s last words.

“Son Bin….”

The old Gongson-geuk looked at him, full of regret and loneliness. “…Who am I? What am I for…”

Pasak.

The words stopped. Gongson-geuk’s head became red dust, and Son Bin saw something jet-black floating there.

Uuuung.

It looked like a bead, but it was the entrance to an abyss, full of emptiness.

Seureuk.

Son Bin raised both hands, embracing the bead.

Kkeuaaaang.

The abyss shook, screaming, sucking in the atmosphere. But Son Bin didn’t stop. As his hands, his body, seemed about to be sucked in.

Huuk.

A huge azure dragon with blue light appeared on the summit.

Tak.

And Son Bin’s hands gripped the black abyss.

(Author’s words) Son Bin put his hand on the blade in front of his shoulder and made it swell. Thanks to that, he was able to get out naturally.