Possessing a Murim Clan’s Youngest Son - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Master of the Demonic Path

 

[These are the database system search results.]

 

Name: MyoHanDo (Frozen Aberrant Blade)

 

Class: Rank 3

 

Type: Short Sword

 

Characteristic: Causes slowness or stiffness depending on the level of the Sword.

 

Specialty:

 

The strange-looking Myohan sword was created by Yeom Byeong Eum 150 years ago. Yeom Byeong Eum was a slave-turned-general who rose to fame as a master craftsman. Before his death, Yeom Byeong Eum created one final named-sword: MyoHanDo.

 

At that time, the Gongju, Seol Won Gyeong of the Northern Sea Ice Castle that was in decline at the time, using the Frozen Aberrant Blade, restored glory to his country.

T/N: Gongju is similar to a duke.

 

After Seoul Won Kyeong’s death, his successor, Seol Ga Chang, placed the Frozen Aberrant Blade in his father’s grave. There was a widespread rumor that the sword had been stolen by grave robbers, but it had never been confirmed.

 

‘Oho, to think that there was such an admirable side of the system…’

 

‘So that means that in the system’s database, there is a list of sacred objects as well as their stories.’

 

Perhaps the system is being considerate by making sure I don’t overlook an important item.

 

Han Yibi hurriedly found and lifted the sword from the man’s belt.

 

‘Eek, it’s small yet heavy.’

 

It was very heavy.

 

Yet it was just half the size of a regular sword.

 

At that moment, a light “di-ring” melody reached his ears.

 

“Now what’s this?”

 

The status window had undergone a visible change.

 

Among the list of the 108 fates, the Frozen Aberrant Blade icon had lit up.

 

Han Yibi’s eyes widened.

 

There must be a special storage area for the items of the 108 fates.

 

“This is the so-called ‘Collection’, right?”

 

As expected, the system really had everything.

 

Anyways, taking into account the short body of the sword, Seol Won Gyeong, the former ruler of the Northern Sea Ice Castle, must have been a very short man.

 

But…

 

“How was such a treasure held by the assassination squad?”

 

Then, another thought entered his mind.

 

“These bastards… is there something more to this? They were defeated by a strange old man but he must have been someone powerful…”

 

“The attackers, who defeated the Jongri family which is of a military background, must not be ordinary individuals.

 

 

Yibi began to think that he was on to something and his mood improved.

 

‘But… where do I store this heavy sword?”

 

Han Yibi decided to simply store it in his upper jacket, as was common in murim novels.

 

However…

 

“Huh? After storing the sword it feels like it became lighter…”

 

Strangely, Han Yibi did not feel the weight of the sword.

 

Thinking something had malfunctioned, Han Yibi re-inserted his hand into his upper jacket. While doing so, his status window activated.

 

“So this acts as some sort of inventory!”

 

What a convenient system!

 

Han Yibi took out the Frozen Aberrant Blade, once again feeling its weight.

 

“Aha! It works.”

 

Thinking that there might be something more, Han Yibi started searching through the Masked General’s clothes.

 

There was a sword. Despite being quite sharp, it wasn’t anything unusual.

 

Although the sword was in good shape, the system did not react to the Masked General’s sword.

 

“It should still be better than a rusty sword.”

 

Han Yibi also took the General’s sword.

 

For over an hour, Han Yibi exhaustingly carried and dumped the bodies of the Masked Assassins off of the cliffside.

 

Carrying the big corpses was almost like special military boot camp training. It felt like he would collapse at any moment.

 

However…. He didn’t give in to the feeling of vertigo.

 

[The old man should think a bit more positively of me because I at least cleaned up.]

 

And finally, it was the Masked General’s turn.

 

When lifting the body, some black characters became visible on the inside of the Masked General’s clothing.

 

“Huh? Did I see that correctly?”

 

Han Yibi placed the Masked General’s corpse on the ground and checked the inside of his clothing.

 

“Ah! I did see correctly after all.”

 

It was so.

 

Many tiny characters had been written on the inside of the General’s clothes.

 

In murim novels, these settings must be examined carefully. Therefore, Han Yibi took out the Frozen Aberrant Blade.

 

Cutting the sleeve off the Masked General’s attire was difficult as the sword was dull.

 

As if he was ripping off the sleeve, Han Yibi slowly cut it bit by bit with the Frozen Aberrant blade.

 

It was an ugly sight to behold.

 

“Is it disrespectful to do this to a dead person?”

 

Despite being unsure, his hands were already cutting off parts of the dead Masked General’s clothes.

 

“Despite looking dull, the blade cuts quite well.”

 

Han Yibi had not been mistaken. Many black characters and images were drawn on the interior of the Masked General’s clothes.

 

“There must be something more to this…”

 

Han Yibi waited for a moment, but the system did not react.

 

It didn’t seem like it was one of the 108 fates.

 

“Nevertheless… there might be something more to this.”

 

Han Yibi then proceeded to push the corpse off of the cliff after taking the Masked General’s upper jacket.

 

He then returned to the hut.

 

 

 

Dirty blood stained the earth.

 

After thinking for a moment, Han Yibi plowed the earth with his Frozen Aberrant Blade.

 

“Hahaha, as expected, I’m a genius.”

 

“It wasn’t perfect but it would suffice.”

 

It was at that moment.

 

The figure of an old man approached from afar, accompanied by the sound of his footsteps.

 

The old man had a burlap bag over his shoulder.

 

Han Yibi greeted him with an awkward smile.

 

The old man, while frowning said.

 

“This brat. You still didn’t leave yet?”

 

Han Yibi said while laughing awkwardly.

 

“You must be tired after the long journey. Anyways, it’s because I thought I should clean up nicely for you.”

 

The old man glanced at his surroundings and entered the hut without a word.

 

 

“Damn it! I worked so hard all day long but he didn’t even give me a second look.”

 

Han Yibi also carefully walked towards the hut.

 

Han Yibi went to bed feeling extremely tense.

 

He was therefore able to wake up at the slightest rustling noise made by the old man.

 

Han Yibi copied the old man, who, like the previous day, prepared to head out without a word.

 

As he had no belongings, there was nothing for Han Yibi to prepare anyways…

 

Luckily, the old man had not ordered Han Yibi to leave.

 

He was only walking with large strides towards the top of the mountain.

 

Han Yibi hurriedly followed behind the old man.

 

Han Yibi’s chest was pounding as if his lungs would soon explode.

 

The sound of his heart thumping reached all the way to his ears.

 

“Damn, does he think he’s a cheetah? Why is he going so fast?”

 

It was so.

 

The old man climbed up the steep mountainside at an unbelievable speed.

 

Han Yibi, who desperately followed behind him, was on the verge of collapse.

 

“Ah! I can’t go any further!”

 

Right before Han Yibi was going to give up, the old man stopped.

 

Like a dog during the midsummer heat, Han Yibi let his tongue out of his mouth and stared at the old man as he panted.

 

Suddenly, the old man began to push his way through the dense undergrowth.

 

Startled, Han Yibi hurried after him.

 

He found the old man squatting on the ground.

 

Han Yibi carefully bent down and stared curiously at the old man who was carefully digging the ground with his hands.

 

What is he doing?…

 

As if he was holding a newborn baby, the old man carefully lifted up a root from the ground.

 

I see.

 

 

Han Yibi had been right about the dry grass, which had let off a stuffy smell back at the hut

 

The old man was an herbalist.

 P/R Note: I’m using “an” because I pronounce herbalist as erbalist, however “a” is perfectly correct too. 

 

Could he be a poison-user?

 

Han Yibi was surprised.

 

In murim novels, the masters that seek herbs were originally doctors or poison-users.

 

“He doesn’t look like a doctor, which means that…”

 

Han Yibi remembered the cold, black eyes of the old man when he was fighting the masked attackers and broke out into a cold sweat.

 

If the old man was actually a poison master then he must be extremely cautious about his every move.

 

This was because the moment he let his guard down, he could be killed instantly.

 

The old man held out his hand as he stood up abruptly, causing Han Yibi to flinch.

 

He looked down at the old man’s hand.

 

The old man held a burlap bag, seemingly wanting Han Yibi to carry it for him.

 

In other words, he wanted Han Yibi to be his porter.

 

‘Ahaha. If it’s like this then our relationship must have improved.’

 

Han Yibi willingly took the burlap bag.

 

At the same time, the old man began to leave the undergrowth, resuming the mountain-march.

 

Clutching his chest, which felt as if it were once again going to burst, Han Yibi followed behind the old man.

 

 

 

A few days passed like that, the daily routine more or less the same.

 

In the morning, they marched up the mountain, digging up and storing herbs in the burlap bag and occasionally hunting rabbits, pheasants, and other wild animals while preparing the herbs for drying when they returned back to the hut.

 

Just one time.

 

It was just one time.

 

With his own hands, the old man cut open a rabbit’s stomach and removed its intestines to cook it. Showing his technique to Han Yibi.

 

The next time, Han Yibi had to do the same gruesome act.

 

However, luckily, instead of rubbing sticks together in order to create fire like a primitive man, he was at least able to use a HwaSeopJa.

 

T/N: HwaSeopJa is a lighter that originated from ancient China (577 BC). The inside of a HwaSeopJa (which looks like a small wooden capsule), could be ignited by simply blowing on it.

 

It was the seventh day.

 

After the old man had fallen asleep, Han Yibi headed out to practice Jongri Mae’s martial arts technique.

 

That is if it could even be called practice.

 

The Jongri Righteous Sword Technique.

 

Surprisingly, Han Yibi’s brain, which had been synchronized with that of Jongri Mae, had remembered it.

 

Some parts of the technique were imperfect which was likely due to Jongri Mae having neglected his practice.

 

Han Yibi took out the Frozen Aberrant Blade and attempted to open it.

 

However, the sword was short, too short.

 

How could a heavy sword with such a short reach even be called a weapon?

 

Han Yibi became suspicious of the system, thinking it may be trying to trick him.

 

It’s probably better to use the Masked General’s sword. After all, it’s called the Righteous Sword Technique, not the Jongri Short Sword Technique.

 

 

 

I must have been blinded by greed to have trusted that woman.

 

It had been two weeks since he had entered the hut as an uninvited guest.

 

Han Yibi had now become accustomed to climbing the mountain.

 

It was a relief that he had even been able to do that.

 

“You know… it really does seem strange.”

 

Han Yibi thought to himself.

 

To Han Yibi, all the various grasses looked the same, but the old man was able to correctly identify those for medicinal use.

 

Of course, he didn’t think that this was out of the ordinary. For herbalists, this was a basic skill.

 

What Han Yibi viewed as strange, was that he got the feeling that the old man was looking for something else.

 

In other words, one could say that although he was actually searching for medicinal herbs, the old man was also looking for something different at the same time.

 

Han Yibi asked the old man who was walking ahead of him.

 

“Uh- sir.”

 

Of course, the old man did not respond.

 

However, Han Yibi was not discouraged and said.

 

“Uhm… What mountain is this?”

 

He did not receive a response.

 

After waiting for a bit, Han Yibi asked again.

 

“Is this mountain by any chance…”

 

“You stupid idiot.”

 

Heuk.

 

“Are you saying that you’ve been wandering around the mountain without even knowing its name?”

 

That’s obvious. I’m from Seoul after all.

 

“This is Magok Mountain*”

T/N: This is an actual mountain in Korea.

 

“Ah-ahaha, I- I see. Magok Mountain. What a nice name.”

 

That was a lie. The strange mountain seemed to be full of evil energy just like its strange name.

T/N: The joke doesn’t translate well into English. The literal meaning of the Magok mountain is “horse valley mountain”. The character for horse is pronounced the same as the character for demon, which is part of the word for evil energy.

 

He continued to ask the old man.

 

“By the way… It’s been a while since I’ve been with you… but I have yet to know your name.”

 

As expected, the old man stayed silent.

 

Feeling frustrated, Han Yibi said.

 

“Sir. I don’t have any intention of bothering you, but since we see each other every day, I would like to know your name.”

 

“Song Myeong Cheon. My name is Song Myeong Cheon.”

 

Wham!

 

Han Yibi was shocked.

 

Of course, he didn’t display it.

 

Although he didn’t make a direct appearance in “Dreams of Becoming a Snake”, his name was mentioned multiple times.

 

According to the characters in the novel, Song Myeong Cheong was a very respected master who was banished after committing a great crime.

 

As if forgetting his status as a master, he attempted to assassinate ‘Tak Bu Yong’, the respected, generous headmaster of Mu Dang Pa.

In the end, his attempt failed, but in the process, many masters of righteous factions were killed.

 

This event is remembered by many as the “Shocking Terror” and made him a common enemy of many in murim.

 

It was precisely because of this reason that he was given the nickname “Master of the Demonic Path.”

 

Such an individual… was with him currently!

 

“Ah yes. Sir. That was your name. Even your name sounds awe-inspiring.”

 

“Hm. Don’t flatter me. I hate such empty words.”

 

“Yes. Yes. I understand. But sir…”

 

“…..”

 

“Do you perhaps have an herb you are searching for? Last time, you were looking for…”

 

At that moment Song Myeong Cheong shouted at him.

 

“Do you want to die?! I replied to your questions out of pity and now you think I’m your friend?!”

 

Han Yibi let out a yelp and shut his mouth.

 

He did, however, realize that the old man was definitely searching for something.

 

(Continued in the next chapter)