Chapter 130

As soon as the sparring match ended, an informal hearing took place.

Seo-jun knew the reason.

It was probably because he mimicked the Baekboshingwon technique.

But it was different this time. When he’d copied the plum blossoms of Mount Hua, it would have been a huge problem if he got caught. Now? Well…

What could they really do? He was the Namgung Clan’s son-in-law.

Things were entirely different from the days when he had no backing. Now, he was a high-level martial artist who couldn't be ignored. So he didn’t even try to disguise his use of Baekboshingwon.

With his significantly elevated skill level, he had a more precise understanding of martial arts principles than ever before, so he copied Shaolin’s technique as accurately as possible to show Heyun the path forward.

The result was, of course...

“If my eyes aren’t deceiving me, that was undoubtedly Baekboshingwon.”

The Head began his questioning with a suspicious look.

Seo-jun stood his ground confidently.

After all, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Is it wrong to imitate a martial art just by observing it? The issue was ambiguous. There’s no copyright on martial arts.

To Seo-jun, copying a martial art was more like following a strategy guide in a game than outright plagiarism.

Breaking into a training ground to steal techniques would be a crime, but watching someone use them and following suit? There was nothing wrong with that.

The only difference was that, typically, people didn’t think they could replicate martial arts just by watching.

‘Then again, martial arts are treated like intellectual property because if they spread, it could lead to war.’

Martial sects were sensitive about their techniques leaking out because they feared possible counter-techniques and considered their martial arts as proprietary assets.

With symbolic techniques, unique characteristics could lead to wrongful accusations.

When someone without backing copied martial arts, it was common to punish them out of disrespect, and other sects would generally agree—it was usually no big deal. (In most cases, it was even common to spy on each other’s training, so there wasn’t much reason to feel wronged.)

But if that person happened to be the son-in-law of the Namgung Clan?

Trying to punish him could backfire.

Plus, it wasn’t even clear whether copying martial arts was wrong.

‘Isn’t it also skill if someone can copy a technique just by watching?’

‘Is the copied martial art truly the same as the original?’

‘Can this really be considered theft?’

‘How is it different from understanding and gaining insight from a technique?’

‘If one grasps the essence, wouldn’t the resulting martial art be similar by nature?’

‘Is there a reason not to use insights gained from observation?’

There were plenty of such ambiguous questions.

Enough to keep debates going for at least a few years.

‘Well, these are just my thoughts.’

He had never heard of someone who could replicate martial arts just by watching a few times, so he couldn’t say for sure how it would play out.

If someone like that ever appeared (or got caught), there might even be a chance for copyright to apply to martial arts.

‘But right now, there’s no such thing, right?’

Thus, Seo-jun stood confidently.

Still, feeling a little guilty about causing a scene, he simply told the truth.

“I just watched and mimicked it.”

“There’s a big difference between copying the appearance of a martial art and understanding its principles. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize that?”

“Well, I did observe the principles, so it seems reasonable.”

“Is that even an answer…?”

The Head found it difficult to press him further.

After all, he knew Baekboshingwon had never been leaked.

So was it really possible to copy it just from watching a few times? How could that be?

The Head, despite his wisdom accumulated over the years, had no experience with such a situation and thus didn’t know how to handle it.

There was simply no precedent for this, leaving him unsure.

“Why be so petty about someone copying a technique they just watched?”

The Fist King chimed in, making the situation even more complicated.

“Can you keep your mouth shut?”

“Haha, as long as I’ve got a mouth, I have to use it. Staying quiet will age me faster.”

Seo-jun chuckled awkwardly.

If the Head decided to spread the word about this, it might be a bit troublesome, but he doubted that would happen.

Even if it did, it wouldn’t cause major issues.

At most, people might become more reluctant to show him their martial arts openly, but there were plenty of ways around that.

For now, he could humor the excited elder Namgung Hyeok a bit, take a casual tour around Shaolin, and head back to the estate.

As Seo-jun looked around, his eyes met Jiam’s.

With a slight raise of his brow, Jiam’s face twisted.

Seo-jun considered teasing him but let it go.

The conversation between the Head and Pae Jin-gwang was drawing to a close.

“Hah… Fine. Since it seemed like you were trying to guide Heyun, I’ll let it go.”

Heyun had indeed gained some insight and taken a step forward, so in that regard, it was even something to be grateful for.

“Besides, judging by the clarity of your aura, your character is probably upright.”

“I don’t think he’s that virtuous.”

Ignoring Pae Jin-gwang, the Head turned to Seo-jun.

“As long as you don’t use that martial art for unscrupulous purposes, I won’t say anything.”

“And if I do?”

“I’ll have to intervene before it’s corrupted.”

Namgung Hyeok frowned.

“This boy is part of the Namgung Clan as well.”

“As Shaolin, that’s a matter I can’t compromise on.”

“Namgung won’t sit idle.”

“Just ensure it doesn’t come to that. I’m just saying it to prepare for any possible outcome, so don’t waste your energy.”

The Head’s stance was less monk-like than expected.

Perhaps it was because he’d reached the level of Hwagyeong?

As Seo-jun scratched his chin, the Head turned away.

“This matter is settled, so follow me. There’s something important I need to discuss.”

The Head led the group to a modest room.

He only allowed those at or above Superclimax to enter, with others waiting outside. Namgung Myung, however, was an exception.

The group in the room now included the Head, Namgung Seo-jun, Namgung Hyeok, Pae Jin-gwang, Namgung Myung, Boyeon-shin-ni from Emei, and Wolmang from Cheongseong.

‘I didn’t even know Wolmang was here.’

Now that he thought about it, he recalled a few exchanges, but the man had left a faint impression.

“When the main rounds of the Yongbong Gathering begin, the Sixteen Great Factions will assemble once more, but I want to say something beforehand.”

Hearing the Head’s words, Seo-jun, who had been lost in thought, looked up.

Sixteen Great Factions, a term encompassing both the Nine Great Sects and the Six Great Clans.

They were gathering in one place.@@novelbin@@

Perhaps this was the true purpose of the Yongbong Gathering.

“What are you dragging it out to say?”

Pae Jin-gwang’s impatience made the Head’s eyes darken.

“There’s an unusual movement within the Demonic Cult.”

“Hasn’t it been the norm for those fiends to roam about? You shouldn’t try to understand their thoughts.”

“This time, it’s different. The Heavenly Demon has moved.”

The Heavenly Demon. Pae Jin-gwang’s expression turned grim upon hearing that name.

“The Heavenly Demon? Damn. If he’s moved….”

“It must be at the behest of Mara Pasun.”

The atmosphere suddenly felt heavy.

Seo-jun, not fully understanding, asked.

“Who’s Mara Pasun?”

“The Demon Immortal.”

Namgung Hyeok explained with a stern face.

“She’s the deity worshipped by the Demonic Cult, and the Heavenly Demon is her agent.”

“Demon Immortal? Isn’t an immortal supposed to reside in the Celestial Realm? Can they communicate?”

So does that mean Shaolin monks can also chat with the Buddha?

“There are ways, I’ve heard. In the case of the Demonic Cult, their Saintess inherits divine blood, allowing limited communication.”

Hearing this, Seo-jun’s face hardened.

Divine Blood. He’d heard of it.

Hadn’t a disciple of the Mount Hua Sect mentioned it?

“They botched a task, so their main branch intervened to handle it. Divine Blood left in the world poses a problem.”

So Divine Blood wasn’t just an inherited trait from the Sword God?

His mind was racing.

Then does Chun-bong have a connection to the Sword God? Is that why they tried to get rid of her? But why? Is there something else?

As Seo-jun remained silent, Namgung Hyeok continued.

“That the Heavenly Demon has moved is significant. It indicates Mara Pasun’s will.”

Usually, the Demonic Cult remained quiet.

While its followers caused chaos wherever they went, the Cult itself rarely took action. In the long history of Murim, there were only a few such instances.

But whenever they did make a move, it left a lasting mark on history.

A trail of blood-red footprints.

Wolmang, who had been silent, asked.

“Head, what exactly do you mean by the Heavenly Demon moving?”

“He didn’t act directly. Only the Four Great Protectors have been dispatched.”

“Well… a small mercy, then.”

“Indeed. If even half-divines had moved, there wouldn’t be anyone unaware of it.”

If they had broken free of their constraints and taken action, most of Zhongyuan would have been obliterated.

It would have been impossible not to notice.

That would truly be a disaster.

Boyeon-shin-ni spoke.

“In any case, because of the Demonic Cult’s movement, Kunlun won’t be participating in this Yongbong Gathering. They’re already at war with the Black Lotus, so their circumstances are challenging, but in the next meeting, we must organize support for Kunlun.”

“Wait.”

Wolmang interjected.

“I’m just asking to be sure, but has there been any indication of communication between the Demonic Cult and the Black Lotus?”

The Head shook his head.

“We don’t believe so.”

“Well, that’s some relief.”

“Relief… In the midst of a war with the Black Lotus, now with the Demonic Cult involved, it hardly seems appropriate.”

“Well, better than being up against both of them.”

Wolmang tried to lighten the mood with a comment, but the reaction was chilly.

Wolmang clicked his tongue and fell silent.

The atmosphere was heavy.

Namgung Myung, attending as the Young Lord, also remained silent.

As Seo-jun observed cautiously, he began to grasp the weight of the name “Heavenly Demon.”

‘So that’s why Jiam lost it.’

No wonder his “I am the Heavenly Demon” statement had sent Jiam into a frenzy.

Apparently, it wasn’t a name to joke around with.

Having not grown up in Zhongyuan, Seo-jun had never taken it seriously, but now he realized the name “Heavenly Demon” had been passed down through generations in the Demonic Cult, signifying more than he’d thought.

And then a thought crossed his mind.

“I’ve found it. The seed of the Ten Thousand Demons.”

Was the woman who sent him to Murim from the Demonic Cult coming to find him?

Seo-jun’s eyes darted around anxiously.

After the heavy meeting ended, the group returned to the estate without the mood for a Shaolin tour.

Time passed quickly, and it was already the first day of the preliminary rounds for the Yongbong Gathering.

Heading toward the preliminary venue with Chun-bong, Seo-jun looked at the overwhelming crowd with a tired expression.

“Whoa… What’s with all these people?”

It was packed.

Without a trace of a joke, he had an urge to cut the crowd down by half.

“…win.”

“Huh?”

Chun-bong muttered under her breath.

When he listened closely, she was whispering to herself repeatedly.

“I’ll win. I can’t lose. At least until the finals… No, I have to win it all.”

Her determination was evident.

Seo-jun grinned and lifted her up in a big hug.

“Aww, our Chun-bong. Of course you’ll win! Doesn’t Oppa always come through? How about we just hit Superclimax before the main rounds?”

“I’m serious.”

“Me too. Dead serious.”

“…Hmph.”

Her lips jutted out in a pout.

Resisting the urge to pinch them, Seo-jun pushed through the crowd, arriving at the training grounds.

Looking around, there were no low-level martial artists.

Everyone here had an aura indicating at least Superclimax level.

Some martial artists appeared to be just top-notch, but their combat prowess didn’t seem to fall short of Superclimax experts.

The qualifications for the preliminary rounds must have been strict.

In the Mount Hua sect’s previous sparring tournament, passing the preliminaries required chopping a log.

Given the larger number of competitors in the Yongbong Gathering, the test must have been even harder.

Of course, Chun-bong qualified with a free pass, so she wouldn’t know.

But there was no need to worry about potential complaints.

Martial artists weren’t concerned with public opinion.

While orthodox sects may pay some attention to the people, they weren’t swayed by their opinions.

They only cared about what other sects said, not public perception.

The word of a single Superclimax master held ten thousand times more weight than the voices of a million people.

Listening to common folk’s grievances was seen as benevolence, an act of charity from those in power.

That’s Murim.

Most of the people he had met so far were fairly mild-mannered, but the more extreme martial artists didn’t even consider anyone below Superclimax to be human.

One only became “human” at the Superclimax level. Below that, one was inhuman.

Seo-jun had only heard this in passing but understood the rationale.

Would a superhuman who had lived for hundreds of years consider mortals who barely reached a century as their equals?

Sure, he’d been born Superclimax himself, but it wasn’t uncommon for frogs to forget their time as tadpoles.

It was just the way things were.

They likely had their own philosophies.

Perhaps they saw ordinary people as pre-humans, yet to prove their worth.

As long as they didn’t mess with anyone he cared about, Seo-jun had no problem with that.

“Move to the training ground according to the number you’ve been assigned!”

Lost in thought, Seo-jun suddenly realized the preliminary rounds had started.

“I’ll be back.”

Chun-bong, her face set with determination, adjusted her attire. Seo-jun cheered her on seriously.

“Kill them all, Geum Chun-bong.”

“Are you insane?”

“Then don’t kill them, just beat them up.”

“Hmph, of course.”

Chun-bong grinned as she grabbed the sheath at her waist.

“I’m Geum Chun-bong.”