"Brother… as long as it's not us, isn't it okay?"
As the Sword Immortal spoke, his gaze fixed on me, and the middle-aged daoist followed his lead, turning his eyes to me as well.
What was going on? What did they mean?
Before I could figure it out, a middle-aged Daoist raised an eyebrow, his tone filled with caution.
"Now that I think about it, who is this person? It's the first time I've seen one without a uniform."
I could sense the wariness in the Daoist's voice. It was clear that unless someone here practiced the Dao like them, they wouldn't be so easily accepted.
Sword Immortal spoke in response, introducing me.
"This person is a man of the world."
"A man of the world?" The middle-aged monk was taken aback by Sword Immortal's words. His expression shifted from surprise to something more serious.
Without warning, the daoist quickly reached for something at his waist, and I instinctively grabbed the sheath of the Southern Heaven Iron Sword, thinking he was about to pull a weapon.
But to my surprise, he didn't draw a sword. Instead, he pulled out something entirely different—a flute.
The jade-green light that emanated from it was unusual and caught my attention. The instrument seemed to carry a significance far beyond its appearance.
What was it? And why did it seem like this was more than just a simple tool?
Sword Immortal stepped between the two of us, his hand raised to calm the middle-aged monk.
"Brother, please calm down."
The middle-aged daoist's expression was full of disbelief. "What in the world is going on? You're letting a worldly person into the fuse? If Jin-in Jeongyang finds out, there will be an uproar."
Sword Immortal replied softly, "It's not something the old man brought in."
The daoist's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you saying you didn't brought him in as your disciple? Are you implying he came into this world on his own? How can an unauthorized person just—"
Before he could finish, Sword Immortal's uvula trembled slightly, signaling something to me. It seemed like he was using some kind of secret message or technique to convey his thoughts.
The middle-aged daoist, who had been nodding in agreement, suddenly stopped and looked at me, his eyes wide with surprise.
"Is that really true?"
"Yes, it is."
The daoist let out a small exhale. "Huh. How could that happen…"
From his reaction, it seemed that he was struggling to believe that I was not meant to be here—perhaps even doubting whether I was truly from this period at all. There was no other reason for him to react with such shock if it wasn't for that.
The middle-aged daoist carefully returned the flute to his belt and spoke calmly, "If you've done that, it's the same as inheriting the legacy of the sword immortal. So, you're not completely unrelated to us."
"That's right," the Sword Immortal confirmed.
The middle-aged daoist then softened his tone and turned to me. "I apologize. I was unintentionally rude."
I felt a bit uncomfortable with the sudden change in his demeanor, but not wanting to make him feel worse, I responded with a gentle smile. "No, it's alright. I'm glad the misunderstanding has been cleared up."
He continued, "If you have inherited the Dao of Death, you're no different from one of our alumni."
"Brother," Sword Immortal interrupted, shaking his head.
The daoist immediately realized his slip-up. "Ah!" he said, nodding with understanding.
Their exchange was cryptic, spoken in a way that only they seemed to fully comprehend. It was hard for me to grasp the meaning behind their words, but it was clear there was something deeper at play that I wasn't yet fully aware of.
Sword Immortal sighed deeply, his face filled with regret. He looked at me with a mix of weariness and responsibility, as if carrying the weight of his actions and their consequences.
"As you know, all of this happened because of my disciple's mistakes," he said, gesturing toward the burned scriptures. "It's my fault for not raising him properly, for failing as a master. This is my karma to bear."
I couldn't help but shake my head, a sense of disbelief creeping over me. "How could this be your fault, though? It's that crazy guy's doing, not yours."
I was frustrated, especially after all that had happened. The idea of someone like him causing all this chaos under such a disciplined and experienced master seemed impossible. How could someone so reckless be raised by someone like
Sword Immortal? Or had it always been inevitable?
Sword Immortal's gaze darkened, and for a moment, I could see the depth of pain in his eyes. He spoke quietly, as if to himself, "There are some people who are destined to go astray, no matter how much you try to guide them. Perhaps it was my mistake to think I could change him."
I felt a bit stunned by the middle-aged daoist's explanation. "What do you mean by that?" I asked, still not fully understanding the gravity of the situation.
He looked at me with a solemn expression before continuing, "A long time ago, we made a vow. We swore never to intervene in the world again, never to return to the Three Celestial realms, or become involved in worldly matters. If we break that oath, not only will we be barred from ascending to the 36th Heaven, but we will lose the Spiritual Essence as well."
I didn't know much about the specifics of their vows or the consequences, but from the way he spoke, it was clear that this was a serious matter. The spiritual essence was likely something important to them—something that bound their very existence to a higher realm. Losing it would mean more than just the loss of power or status; it seemed like it would be a deep, existential punishment.
Sword Immortal, who had been silently listening, added with a heavy heart, "That's why we're unable to act outside of our given boundaries. Our past decisions, our vows, are not easily cast aside."
I could see the weight of these words on Sword Immortal's face, his eyes filled with the burden of his own choices. It was a harsh reality—their commitments to their vows seemed more important than even the safety of the world around them.
"So, you're saying that no matter what happens, you can't interfere?" I asked, my frustration mounting. It seemed like a ridiculous situation—people bound by rules, unable to act, while everything was falling apart around them.
"Unfortunately, yes," Sword Immortal replied, a trace of sorrow in his voice. "We are bound by our oath, and breaking it comes with a price we cannot afford."
I couldn't fully understand what they were talking about. It seemed like it was referencing something from an ancient or mystical belief system, but the overall message was clear: they are unable to leave this fuse.
If it's as serious as they claim, why wouldn't they just go through with it and face the consequences?
The swordsman noticed my confusion and explained further.
"Losing one's spiritual essence means abandoning the path of cause and effect, losing both the soul and the higher spirit. In the end, it means complete erasure from existence."
I was stunned. Such severe consequences were unimaginable.
"Then how did he manage to leave?" I asked.
The man, Ja Gyeong-jeong (first disciple), was part of the same group, yet he had somehow managed to break free from these restrictions. This meant he had either found a way to bypass these rules or had accepted the dire consequences that came with it.
At this, Geomseon shook his head.
"We, the eight Daoists, are the only ones who have taken that oath…"
Eight Daoists?
Was he referring to the highest-ranking Daoists in Peach Blossom Sect, including Sword Immortal?
Then, could the disciples who didn't take the oath possibly unite to capture this person?
Is that even possible?
Sword Immortal addressed that question.
"However, all of Peach Blossom Sect's disciples also swore not to get involved in the secular world. Even if they didn't take the oath regarding the spiritual consequences, how could a daoist break their vow?"
"…He broke that oath…"
"It's like he has abandoned the path to spiritual fulfillment."
The middle-aged Daoist clicked his tongue.
In the end, it seemed that among the disciples of Peach Blossom Sect, there was no one left who could go out and capture him.
When Sword Immortal mentioned earlier that he would leave, it was clear he was expressing his intent to take responsibility, even if it meant risking extinction.
The short sword observed the situation and commented, "Looking at the atmosphere, it seems like he's asking for your help."
I understood the implication but responded thoughtfully, "I get that. Of course, I noticed that much. But the problem is, I don't think I'm in a position to help with the mission."
The short sword pressed further, "Why not?"
I hesitated before replying, "Think about it. I have to stay and wait while the scriptures here are being restored, and eventually return to where I was. But what if I go out to capture that person and something happens, or I can't come back? If that happens, everything could be thrown into chaos. I don't even know when or what time it is outside the walls."
The short sword suggested, "Then just say no."
I sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "It's not that simple. In a way, I am living a second life because of the legacy left behind by Sword Immortal."
I could sense his intentions, yet it left me conflicted.
The short sword, observing my hesitation, commented softly, "That too. You must be very embarrassed, too."
I was caught in my own dilemma when Sword Immortal spoke again. "I'll be honest with you, since you've probably picked up on it by now. I would like to ask something of you."
He was right—I hadn't merely sensed it, but had clearly understood by listening to the conversation between the short sword and me. Yet, granting Sword Immortal's request seemed far from simple.
I struggled to find an immediate response. Before I could say anything, Sword Immortal raised the sword he was holding high into the air.
At first, I didn't know what he intended to do, but then a bright light began to shimmer from the blade, and it soared upward into the sky.
In that very moment, a loud, thunderous sound echoed through the cave. The ground trembled beneath us as dark clouds gathered ominously through a gap in the ceiling. Then, in a flash, a bolt of blue light streaked down through the opening, cutting through the darkness before it fell into the cavern below.
The sound of thunder was deafening, and blue sparks crackled in the air as lightning struck the ground. The floor where it hit turned as black as night, scorched and charred by the force. I found myself staring at the sword Sword Immortal was holding, trying to understand what kind of power it held.
Sword Immortal, noticing my surprise, calmly explained, "This is Divine Thunder, one of the eight sacred tools of Peach Blossom Sect."
"Ah…" I muttered in realization.
"It is a precious artifact, capable of defeating demons and summoning thunderstorms. A nobleman from Yeosan gifted it to me during the time when I was training," Geomseon continued.
"Is this… a legal tool?" I asked, almost in disbelief. The power it displayed was overwhelming.
The sword was terrifying. Lightning and thunder, forces that were typically part of nature's divine harmony, were now being wielded by a weapon. Creating such phenomena with a sword made it feel less like magic and more like a highly advanced tool, a weapon crafted for a specific purpose. It made sense that it was called a "Daoist instrument"—it was no ordinary weapon.
The middle-aged Daoist continued to express his frustration. "That traitor stole half of these sacred Buddhist instruments and ran away."
"That's very serious," I murmured, finally understanding why the middle-aged Daoist had been so agitated. The implications of such a theft were unimaginable. The thought of such powerful tools being used for malicious purposes was chilling.
The middle-aged Daoist clicked his tongue in disapproval. "At least it's not a betrayal by the female disciple. If that were the case… really…"
I shook my head, appalled at the thought. The idea of such powerful tools falling into the wrong hands was too terrifying to even consider. The Sword Immortal nodded in agreement, his face somber.
The middle-aged Daoist turned to me, his tone persuasive. "You see, just think about it. If he uses these dangerous tools to disrupt the world… it's truly terrifying, isn't it?"
"Elder, they've cultivated the Dao. Would they really carelessly abuse the teachings of the Sword Immortal? The elder was simply worried that these stolen weapons might fall into the hands of wicked people…" I replied, trying to offer some reason.
The Daoist responded bitterly, "He killed three Daoists to steal the scriptures. Having already violated the very core of the Dao, what's to stop him from committing even more heinous acts?"
Sword Immortal fell silent at those words, his expression grim. I sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the situation. The stolen tools were dangerous, and their misuse could lead to disastrous consequences.
As the daoist pointed out, I too found myself wondering just how many people could possibly stop him if he were to unleash the full power of those sacred tools upon the world.
The real problem was much more pressing, however.
"…If he possesses several tools like those, how am I supposed to catch him?" I asked, realizing the magnitude of the issue.
Even when we competed earlier, his calmness had not disappointed me, but in fact, it only made me more certain of the difficulty ahead. I couldn't even tell if I could win, even if I transformed into a blood demon and fought with everything I had. So how could I possibly capture him?
"Are you suggesting I use the elder's sacred tool?" I pointed at the Divine Thunder sword Sword Immortal was holding. Something about it felt odd. I could sense the will within the other swords, but this sword was different. There was no voice, no presence, just an empty blackness.
Sword Immortal shook his head, his expression serious.
"That won't work."
"Why?" I asked, perplexed.
"I don't know what kind of chaos would ensue with just the four sacred tools already released from the fuse. If you fail, even Divine Thunder Sword could be taken away."
"…Then how am I supposed to catch him?" I asked, frustration creeping in.
Was I supposed to risk my life to retrieve the sacred weapons with nothing but my bare hands?
If that was the plan, I would have to reject it. Repaying a favor was one thing, but sacrificing my life without proper reasoning was something else entirely.
"Look, don't jump to conclusions. Do you think he would ask such a favor from you without any countermeasures in place, even if it meant a death sentence?" Daoist said.
Sword Immortal remained silent in response to the daoist's question, and I couldn't help but feel that there was something more to this situation than met the eye.
At this, the middle-aged Daoist frowned, casting a sharp glance at me. "Surely you didn't think of that?" he asked, his tone laced with concern.
Sword Immortal shook his head in response. "That's not it. This matter cannot be decided by just one person. This is…" His voice trailed off, as if searching for the right words.
Suddenly, Sword Immortal trembled, his gaze shifting towards a particular direction. It wasn't just him. The middle-aged Daoist also looked in the same direction. Without a word, both men dropped to one knee and raised their arms in unison towards that place.
I was confused by their actions, not understanding what was happening. Then, as if some invisible force had guided them, they stood up from their kneeling positions.
The middle-aged Daoist spoke to Sword Immortal with a tone of realization. "As expected, Jeongyang Jinin was also watching."
Sword Immortal responded with a solemn expression. "This has gotten so big, how could he not know?"
I was left bewildered. What were they watching? What was unfolding? The tension in the air was palpable, and I could sense something significant was happening.
When I looked at him in puzzlement, Geomseon spoke calmly, "First, go to the Sacred Flame Hall."
'Sacred Flame Hall?' I thought, still unsure of what he meant.
I followed Sword Immortal and the middle-aged Daoist as they led me out of the cave. We headed toward the largest temple near the lakeside, a grand structure with eight floors.
Upon entering the first floor, I was struck by the sheer number of daoists memorizing sutras. It was a sight that dwarfed what I had seen at Sacred Sword Hall. The atmosphere here in the Great Hall, the world of the Immortal Sage of Primordial Beginnings, the Immortal Sage of Eternal Peace, and the Supreme Master of the Great Essence—all of whom were considered the highest authorities in Taoism—was filled with a profound presence.
"I guess old man Sword Immortal is the representative here…" said Short Sword, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and understanding.
"Hehehe," Sword Immortal chuckled, walking ahead with a lighthearted laugh.
I didn't respond to his words, but I couldn't help but think the same thing. Given Sword Immortal's behavior and the reverence shown by the middle-aged Daoist, it was clear that the highest-ranking person in the Peach Blossom Sect was here.
When I reached the highest floor, I found a modest office, smaller than the Great Hall but still grand in its own way.
'Ah!'
The room held eight seats, two of which remained unoccupied. The other six were taken by monks whose appearances were striking and unusual, each standing out in their own distinctive way.
What on earth are those women?
As Short Sword remarked, I turned my attention to two women sitting side by side. One was draped in a simple white cotton robe, delicately holding a lotus flower, while the other wore a single shoe, with a flower basket resting beside her.
On either side of them, there was a monk in a tattered, worn uniform, holding a gourd in one hand, while a serene white mule sat quietly behind him.
'How strange. This is all so bizarre.'
A middle-aged daoist greeted the others seated and then took his place in one of the vacant spots.
Across from the empty seat sat the only person whose attire differed markedly from the others. Instead of the typical daoists's robe, he wore a ceremonial uniform that had more the air of a high-ranking bureaucrat than a religious figure.
"I have arrived after receiving a summons from Jinin Jeongyang," the Sword Immortal spoke respectfully, bowing his head toward the person at the head of the table.
The individual at the head of the table was an elderly man, his round stomach swelling as if he were pregnant with child, the protrusion visible despite his loose robes. He held a large fan in his hand, a strange yet commanding presence about him.
The short sword, Sodam, commented, "Look at the stomach... it's bloated like a boat."
I immediately reacted, "Stop."
Trying to maintain my focus, I warned, "If you do that, my eyes will keep drifting there."
I tried my best to avoid looking at the old man's protruding stomach, sitting before me, so I focused elsewhere.
But despite my efforts, the old man's gaze locked directly onto mine.
It felt as though he possessed the mysterious ability to see through everything.
At that moment, the elderly man, Jeongyang Jinin, finally spoke.
"I have already shared the brief details with the others here…"
I hadn't seen or heard anything, so how could he possibly know what had happened?
Sword Immortal spoke, as if feeling guilty for the situation, his tone apologetic.
"I apologize to Jinin and everyone here for what happened due to our lack of foresight."
The old man shook his head in response to Sword Immortal's words.
"Didn't I tell you before, when I was teaching you? Everything unfolds as it should."
"True," Sword Immortal responded, acknowledging the truth in the old man's words.
The old man then added, "I too failed in raising my disciples, so I have no intention of blaming you for this…"
"…But," the old man continued, his voice turning serious, "this is something I cannot ignore. I would like to hear what solution you propose, Sword Immortal."
With those words, the old man's gaze shifted towards me.
"Devious criminals outside might not be much of a concern, but the real problem is the disciple who stole the Buddhist instrument..." Sword immortal's voice trailed off, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on him.
A daoist, seated across from the white mule, broke the silence with a calm, measured voice.
"We won't be sending out the other dao disciples to deal with this, do we?"
Sword Immortal shook his head slowly, rejecting the idea. "Is that even a possibility? Sending dao disciples is not an option," he said, his tone laced with quiet sorrow.
The woman holding the lotus flower then spoke, her voice serene yet imbued with authority.
"If the traitor were to unleash the sacred weapons, it will only lead to catastrophe. How can we retrieve the sacred instruments and catch that child?"
Before anyone could respond, the woman next to her, wearing only one shoe, let her words fall like a heavy stone.
"Fellow daoists, surely you don't intend to ask this young man for a favor. He should not be here. His very presence is already disrupting the natural order."
A slight bitterness stirred within me. Do I even want to be here?
If it weren't for the one who caused all this chaos—who had taken the Sodam Sword—none of this would have unfolded.
I was about to voice my displeasure, but a middle-aged daoist holding a flute intervened. His voice was steady and calm, cutting through the tension.
"He didn't come here of his own volition. Even if you wish to send him away, it's impossible until the damaged scriptures are restored."
His words were a shield, a defense that shielded me from the accusations. Gratitude surged through me as I turned to him, my eyes meeting his in silent acknowledgment.
At that moment, a monk wearing a tattered clothes and holding a gourd spoke up.
"First, let us hear the female disciple's story. There's no need to rush into a decision."
"Thank you, Priest," Sword Immortal replied politely.
Listening to the conversation around me, it was clear they were all considering the death penalty. Even those who had devoted themselves to the dao had varying perspectives on the matter.
I felt out of place, unsure of what I was doing in this tense situation, caught between competing ideas.
Sword Immortal spoke again, his voice steady but carrying the weight of responsibility.
"As everyone knows, we, the Daoists of Peach Blossom Sect, are forbidden from becoming entangled in the affairs of the worldly realm. However, we cannot allow sacred tools to create chaos in the world. Therefore, I propose the following."
Sword Immortal turned and pointed directly at me.
"I ask that this young man to act as our representative and apprehend my rogue disciple."
'Representative?'
I couldn't help but feel unsettled by the suggestion.
"Elder, I'm sorry, but I still—"
"Please, wait a moment," Sword Immortal interrupted, his voice calm but firm. "Listen to everything I has to say, then make your decision."
I fell silent, taking a deep breath.
Alright. For now, I needed to hear what the Sword Immortal had to say. It wasn't too late to refuse if I truly couldn't agree with their proposal.
"This young man arrived here thanks to a treasure I left for him in the future. Do you truly believe that this is all just a coincidence?" Sword Immortal's words hung in the air, and the daoists murmured amongst themselves, their minds racing.
TheDaoist holding the gourd was the first to speak, his voice sharp.
"So, are you implying that all of this was destined? A natural occurrence?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying," Sword Immortal replied without hesitation.
The Daoist frowned, clearly taken aback. "How can you be so certain?"
"And do you believe," Sword Immortal continued, his voice calm but unwavering, "that it's merely a coincidence that this young man, out of so many, found the treasure and arrived here just as a disciple of mine, one with ill intentions, caused such chaos?"
"Th... that..." The Daoist stumbled over his words, struggling to counter Sword Immortal's logic.
"Does it really seem like mere chance that this young man appeared in a situation where no one else could step forward?" Sword Immortal's gaze sharpened, emphasizing his point.
'!?'
The gourd-holding daoist's brow furrowed deeper, and he fell silent, no longer able to challenge the claim.
The other Daoists in the room exchanged uncertain glances, each one absorbed in their own thoughts.
'...It's not a coincidence?' I too felt a sense of unease creeping in as Sword Immortal's words sank in.
When I reflected on everything that had happened so far, it did feel as if the pieces were aligning in ways that couldn't be explained by simple chance. Something deeper was at play here.
At that moment, Jeongyang Jinin, who had been sitting at the head of the table, leaned forward, his voice steady but filled with an undeniable weight.
"Are you implying that all of this was meant to happen?" His gaze was sharp, probing.
Sword Immortal did not hesitate. "Didn't Jinin himself say it? Everything unfolds according to reason."
"Hmm." Jeongyang Jinin's response was a low murmur, as if contemplating the deeper meaning behind the words. He seemed troubled, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind.
After a brief silence, he spoke again, his voice slower this time, tinged with concern. "Even so, how can this young man cultivate the Dao without any sacred tools? How can he stand against Gyeong- Jeong (first-disciple), who possesses them?"
The woman wearing only one shoe, who had been silent until now, nodded in agreement, her voice firm. "I share Jinin's thoughts. While it's true the young man's actions are extraordinary, it's still like leaping into a raging fire without protection. His odds are slim."
She paused, looking toward the others before continuing. "Therefore, with respect, I wish to ask a favor of both the Sect Leader and the fellow daoists present here."
The room fell quiet.
"Ask?" Jeongyang Jinin inquired, raising an eyebrow.
The woman nodded. "I request that one of you passes on your skills to this young man during his four years at Peach Blossom Sect."
'!!!'
A wave of surprise swept through the hall. Every monk, Daoist, and practitioner in the room exchanged astonished glances, their thoughts racing. The idea of passing skills to an outsider was not a small matter—it was unheard of for someone to be entrusted with such a responsibility so quickly.
The tension in the air was palpable. All eyes turned toward the woman who had spoken, awaiting the reaction of the others.
The Taoist sitting before the white mule scoffed, his voice laced with disbelief.
"Look, sister. Are you truly asking me to accept this person as a disciple? If that happens, this person will also fall into the fuse..." His words trailed off, as if the idea was utterly preposterous.
The woman holding the lotus flower responded calmly, yet with resolve. "As I said, I am requesting that he be granted the status of an agent. This pertains to capture of the rogue disciple."
"Under..."
The monk in front of the mule snorted, incredulous, while the reactions from the other Daoists were no different. They regarded me as though I were unworthy of such a proposal, their gazes sharp and critical.
'What should I do?' I felt a similar sense of confusion. The request had come so suddenly, and the weight of it was overwhelming. Who would have thought these extraordinary Daoists would actually ask to offer their talents? It was unheard of.
As the atmosphere in the room grew tense, their leader, Jeongyang Jinin, suddenly broke the silence with a booming laugh.
"Hahahahahahahaha!"
The daoists turned to him, clearly puzzled by his sudden burst of laughter. They were taken aback, unsure of what had just transpired.
After laughing for a while, Jeongyang Jinin shook his head and turned toward Sword Immortal, his expression now serious.
"I'm still hoping for a lucky break," he said, his voice calm but tinged with meaning.
Sword Immortal bowed his head slightly. "...I'm sorry."
Jeongyang Jinin's gaze softened. "If this is as natural as you say, then this must also be the answer."
At his words, the woman holding the lotus flower was visibly startled. She raised her voice in protest.
"True! Are you really going to grant the request for the disciple??"
Jeongyang Jinin's smile didn't waver. "Is there a better solution than this?"
He paused, his eyes briefly scanning the room. "Rather than sending the disciples away…"
"Did you not tell me to give up the Dao of Heaven and leave?" The question was sharp, biting.
At that, the female monk holding the lotus flower fell silent, her words swallowed by the gravity of the situation.
Jeongyang Jinin smiled once again, then turned toward Sword Immortal. "You've already taught this young man a technique, so all that remains is to teach him more."
Sword Immortal shook his head, clearly troubled. "The entire cause of this lies with me. How could I let the others take responsibility for it?"
Jeongyang Jinin raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you will teach him?"
Sword Immortal's response was resolute. "That's right. If you permit me, I intend to teach this young man the Divine Thunder Sword Technique."
"The Divine Thunder Sword Technique?" The others murmured in disbelief.
"Yes," Sword Immortal confirmed, unwavering.
"It would be an insult to display a skill of this magnitude casually, especially when even the Emperor himself would barely be worthy to have such a technique to be bestowed upon him."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing down on everyone present. The daoists exchanged glances, their expressions betraying their shock and unease. This was no ordinary situation; the gravity of the request was undeniable, and the thought of passing on such a revered technique left them deeply unsettled.