Chapter 484

So, you can imitate a person’s voice purely with a Mechanical System or just store it and play it back?

That’s way too advanced of a tech for some primitive age in the Central Plain—like, come on, seriously?

Even if you’re a Blood Sect Technician, you can’t just throw in some guide voice saying the door will open when the Stone Door blows open.

Forget about guide voices; the Stone Door can’t even lift itself up!

It’s a thoroughly manual effort, opened by human hands with a pulley system.

The Blood Sect Technicians are over there, sweating it out, grunting as they crank the Stone Door open.

You might say that’s a bit too manual, right?

But you’ve got to consider that the Shinguic Tomb was carved out of the mountain.

If you’re going to attach some mechanism, you need to dig out the space for it yourself.

Honestly, if it’s going to be operated by people anyway, it’s more efficient to just sweat a bit rather than carve out a whole mountain.

While the Blood Sect Technicians are dripping sweat, the fight is still on.

The noise from stone scraping against stone sounds like a mill going, but with blades flying everywhere, who cares about a little mill noise during this crazy swordfight?

However, for the reckless warrior known as Meldae, fighting against the Steel Blood Sword Heavenly Warrior, that sound hit him like a thunderbolt.

“Door! Door! It’s opening!”

And they’re getting all hyped up over a single door opening!

But you’ve got to understand Meldae’s perspective.

He’s suffering under the attack of a horrifying monster—a real monster, wielding a blade like a demon (Seomun Qing, an orthodox Daoist).

Meldae’s torso was soaked red like a distressed checkerboard, while Qing was reveling in the slaughter without a care in the world.

And then came the sound of that mill again.

He saw the door slowly beginning to rise.

For Meldae, it was a beam of light—an ultimate salvation!

“Door?”

“Yes, the door! It’s open!”

“Not needed!”

Suddenly, what’s with all this door talk?

Qing didn’t even care about the door anymore.

What mattered was that the guy in front of him was wearing the Steel Blood Sword’s uniform.

This wasn’t some innocent village—no, this was the guy who wiped out an entire clan in a peaceful little village just to secure a waiting room for his own crew.

To save that dirty life, he’s digging up an innocent door!

And then, wait? Door? What door? The Stone Door?

Qing’s glazed eyes suddenly sharpened.

The bloodlust that wrapped around his mind lifted, and only the characteristic void of a wise yet half-mad Daoist remained.

In essence, Qing had completely snapped back to normal.

The overly wide grin that had felt burdensome faded away to a subtle calm.

Thanks to that, the eerie vibe that had felt monstrous vanished as if it had never existed—transforming the hellish slaughter into a scene of pure orthodox Daoist serenity.

In that moment, Meldae felt relieved.

Ah, it’s over. I’m alive…!

And just as Meldae was ready to let out a sigh of relief—

His heart ached!

“Ugh, why…?”

Meldae glanced down at the blade lodged in his solar plexus, questioning with trembling eyes.

“There was a nameless village at the foot of No Mountain, but now it’s gone. Why? Because the Steel Blood Sword bastards erased it.”

“Just for those hicks…”

At the same time, Qing’s sword angled downwards.

Qing’s belief remained unwavering.

A sword must not exit in the same direction it entered.

Meldae’s body was sliced cleanly from solar plexus to groin, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

For the record, Qing was perfectly normal at this point.

With Meldae’s insides spilling out, he frantically absorbed the sight of the door that had finally opened.

And with one last word, he murmured,

“The door… it opened…”

Even with the door finally open, it felt bitterly frustrating to be dying.

Even as you tell him he’s dying, he still blames the door. What’s wrong with these sect guys?

Qing swung his sword, splattering blood all over.

Hmm, why’d someone have to be standing right there?

A random warrior got drenched in guts and innards as they turned in horror.

“Damn it, who—ugh, my neck aches. Is it going to cramp up?”

Recognizing the source of the discomfort, they casually turned their neck to loosen it.

Of course, one’s pride is one thing, but starting a spat with a smiling butcher is another.

Though Qing may be lady-like in demeanor, the hands are still covered in battle.

“Hey there, friend. When did you reach the realm of merging? I thought I was catching up, but must you stay ahead like this? This truly is my sword buddy’s style!”

When a master who attained Divine Sword Merging splatters filth, all you can do is take it, right?

If you start causing trouble, you’ll end up getting hit by both the filth and the sword.

“Heh. What’s so hard about that? If you come at me, that’s nothing, eh? Oh, by the way, how does one achieve Divine Sword Merging with dual swords? Do you just end up with two swords?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? A pair of swords means both blades work as one weapon, effectively treating two swords as a single weapon.”

“Is it right to call that merging? I mean, is that even possible? Consciousness is one, isn’t it?”

“But the weapon is one, isn’t it?”

“It’s two swords, though?”

“Isn’t it said that a paired sword forms a single weapon? So, sadly, dual swordsmanship can be considered a flawed martial art.”

“What?!”

Mo Yong Joo-hee’s eyes flared.

If he weren’t the eldest son of the Namgung family, she might have called for a Life and Death Match over such a serious insult, and the head of the Namgung family would have had to step in for an apology.

But as it happened from their first meeting, Namgoong Shin-jae isn’t one to mince words.

Perhaps it’s because he didn’t grow up in a family where he needed to choose his words carefully as the Namgung eldest son.

Or maybe he was just born that way.

“Isn’t it so? The foundational premise of a warrior is a singular weapon and one similar martial art. Be it a sword or a dagger, a longsword or otherwise, they don’t often fail to wield a left-hand technique. If a weapon gives you ten points of power, a so-called similar martial art, such as boxing, gives you about three. So, when you combine the strength from the weapon and the left-hand technique, you attain a total of thirteen points, don’t you think?”

The conversation of masters is a treasure in itself.

For a supreme master who has reached Divine Sword Merging and another supreme master discussing things, despite the circumstances, it’s worth listening in even at the cost of losing face.

As the rogue martial artists eavesdropped, some nodded along, while others frowned.

Those tilting their heads:

They get swords, but what’s a dagger? And what’s a longsword?

(The answer being a broad sword, a short sword, and a spear.)

Those nodding:

Yeah, yeah. It checks out that boxing is similar martial arts!

Martial arts practitioners are akin to similar warriors.

But even that three points seems too generous.

Shouldn’t it be one point or maybe even half a point?

The rogues frustrated by that were precisely those similar warriors.

But what can they do, getting angry as similar warriors?

“However, if you wield two swords, that’ll only give you ten points combined, so isn’t that worse than leaving one hand empty?”

“Oh! Now that’s convincing.”

Qing nodded.

Mo Yong Joo-hee looked a bit disappointed, but honestly, Namgoong Shin-jae was mostly right when it came to swords.

So Qing chuckled along and let it slide.

Namgoong Shin-jae was spot on regarding only swords.

The rest, he got it all wrong.

“In that regard, the ultimate martial way can undoubtedly be considered dual swords. Holding different swords on both sides means ten points on the left and ten on the right, totaling twenty points, right?”

Look at this!

In the end, the conclusion sounds absurd.

“So, having two weapons is definitely better, right? Then why does everyone opt for dual weapons while leaving one hand empty?”

“Because not everyone in the world is a genius like me. Doesn’t it sound absurd to wield different swords in each hand? It’s a rough and difficult path, so they get scared, compromise, and give up.”

“Huh?”

Qing’s eyes sparkled.

Given her history, she can’t miss a chance to tease someone.

“Is that really hard?”

“It is. From the outset, swordsmanship is designed to respond to every direction. Naturally, those paths stretch into the world, making it nearly impossible for two sword techniques to harmonize without obstructing each other. But just because it’s nearly impossible doesn’t mean it is—”

“Ha! Hand me those swords.”

Qing’s skill acquisition is tied to a crippling terror that smacks you from beyond the universe.

In her hometown, there’s this ancient status that corrupts your psyche and physiology, laying waste to your consciousness—with memories stretching into the unconscious realm they call primordial memory.

However, her learning was unorthodox, brutally effective—perhaps even too lazy to separate between right-handed and left-handed swings.

She just slammed both down with no distinction.

In one hand, the Moon Lady Sword Dance (real).

In the other, the Hundred-Eight Sura Sword.

And there it was! The only sole inheritor to humanity’s ultimate martial art, unleashed along with the infamous Demonic Arts of the Ten Great Evils.

Of course, the Moon Lady Sword Dance might feel a bit slighted.

If she’s going to dance them both, at least use a purple technique to match; it’s embarrassing to slap on gold like that.

Yet, Qing has always had a knack for stirring up injustice, often without intending to.

If things went that way, everyone would be toting around two weapons, wouldn’t they?

Clang! The two swords collided wildly, culminating in a short burst of swordplay.

“Wow, that’s not easy.”

“Oooh! Impressive! But I’d still say it’s more like imitation. Dual swords are meant to decompose each form into parts, recombining them to harmonize. Each sword’s essence shouldn’t be compromised. You merely selected two compatible forms!”

Qing’s eyes widened in shock.

What a genius, truly, a sword genius.

Add on that foresight too.

– And speaking of swords? Was that truly the vicious and flamboyant swordplay of the Hundred-Eight Sura Sword? How on earth did you master such a cruel technique? What a magnificent sword style! Do show me more when we duel later.

“…?”

Did he really catch on to that? Qing briefly hesitated.

What’s the conclusion here? Why?

But Namgoong Shin-jae comprehended it all.

No, not just understood—he was amazed.

What a sword master!

How could a genuine swordsman overlook renowned sword play?

Prior to the Ten Great Evils, it was about the sword!

There’s no good or evil in the swordsmanship pursuit; there are simply techniques and methods!

Of course, if it weren’t for the swordsman, none would’ve even come close.

It’d just be a reincarnation of the Sura Sword from earlier times.

But back in the days of the Warring States, when the musical Zongzi died and Baek Ah ceased his playing, were they not called zhi-yin—the highest form of friendship—for recognizing the beauty of music?

For merely acknowledging a sound as a friend’s music, no less, and to be recognized by the greatest swordsman alive?

That was when—

“Hey, are we just going to keep talking? Shouldn’t we get moving? Everyone’s waiting.”

A pleasant Jo Ah-yo Lee Hye-hye interrupted.

“Wait, aren’t we all free to carry on? The door has opened, right?”

“Huh?”

Qing looked around with a frown.

“What’s with you all? Why are you listening to others banter? Let those leaving go and let those resting rest. If anyone wants to tend the wounded, then stay; figure it out yourselves.”

At that, the crowd felt a tad aggrieved.

In truth, no group can function without a leader.

Even if one doesn’t step up, human nature dictates that someone becomes the de facto leader.

And considering the overwhelming might displayed, even having severed the Mountain Tai Demon Lord’s head, wouldn’t that take priority?

Even though the door has opened, they were all being watchful while absorbing the irrelevant dual sword discourse.

Qing waved her hand.

“What are you doing? Go do your jobs.”

At her prompting, the warriors exchanged awkward looks before disappearing beyond the Stone Door.

Some helped the wounded, while others settled down beside the injured, wearing expressions of utter fatigue.

“We’ll just take a break. Looking at how everyone is scrambling, I don’t think we need to hurry.”

After watching the mess, it didn’t feel like there was a need to rush.

Once the next round of splitting into groups came up, everyone would likely be back into waiting mode anyway.

Unless someone decided to set traps or engage in that hellish ritual of eliminating each other—who knows what fun awaits!

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