The Undefeatable Swordsman-Chapter 17. Dream Awakening ()

The women were looking at the guy's naked upper body.

'Damn! How dare that lowly porter take his shirt off here? He probably did that because he's uneducated!'

Song Woo-Moon's appearance was thanks to his parents. His father, Song Dae-Woong, was truly masculine, even ferocious at times. As for his mother, Baek Jin-Jin, saying that she was one of the prettiest women in the village did not do her justice at all. When she was young, she was as beautiful as Si-Hyeon. Her beauty could be ranked among the top in the country.

Woo-Gang, Woo-Moon's younger brother, resembled his father more. His jawline was square and his face was manly, while Woo-Moon had inherited both of their parents' facial features equally. In other words, his jawline was rather slender, giving off a feminine feel, while his thick eyebrows and stout mouth gave off a masculine feel.

Although he wasn't bulky and thick, his muscles were well-defined and toned, proportionally adorning both his torso and his legs. And thanks to the metamorphosis his bones had undergone through, he gained a physique that was ideal in terms of both martial arts and aesthetics.

His face was neither too masculine, nor too feminine, and he sported a beautiful, muscular figure. Thanks to these physical assets working together in perfect chemistry, Woo-Moon exuded a powerful charm.

As a result, the women stared at Woo-Moon, unable to turn their gazes away from him, and Yu Mun-Gwang, who was thus deprived of their attention, burst into anger. Even Si-Hyeon, who was cold, arrogant, and never even bothered to look at him properly, was looking at the porter.

Mun-Gwang cursed in his mind. 'You bitch, I guess you're no different from the rest of the whores, after all!'

It was never a bad thing to be attracted to the charm of the opposite sex. However, Mun-Gwang, whose pride had been cracked, kept swearing in his heart.

Unlike other girls, Si-Hyeon didn't just look at the beauty of Woo-Moon's face and muscles. Rather, she looked at Woo-Moon with curiosity, since she knew him as the waiter at the inn she had visited a few days ago. After looking at him for a few moments, she couldn't help but exclaim to herself. With her keen eyes, she had finally realized that Woo-Moon's physique was perfect for learning martial arts.

Woo-Moon eventually finished drawing water from the well and headed back to their tent.

Having reached peak hostility toward Woo-Moon, Mun-Gwang took a weapon hidden in his bosom with his right hand.

"Oh! There's a bee here," he said, holding the nail-shaped weapon in his right hand, and he pretended to catch an imaginary bee with his left. At that moment, all the women's eyes turned away from Woo-Moon and toward Mun-Gwang's left hand. In that instant, he flicked his right wrist and threw the nail at Woo-Moon.

'Fucking porter! Take this!'

He thought about simply going to Woo-Moon and beating him up, but that just seemed ridiculous. Who wouldn't think that it was out of jealousy? In fact, Woo-Moon had done nothing wrong. Hence, Mun-Gwang attacked him without anyone knowing.

The Dragon-Piercing Nail Art was the Kunlun Sect art that Mun-Gwang put the most emphasis on. Since he was quite the coward and he didn't have confidence in fighting people head-to-head, this hidden weapon technique was his favorite.

The flying nail spun, describing a curve in the air as it flew toward Woo-Moon.

'You dare piss me off, fucking asshole?! Hahahaha... Eh?'

Mun-Gwang was convinced that the hidden weapon would pierce Woo-Moon's shoulder, which would cripple him for the rest of his life.

Instead, Woo-Moon simply grabbed it as it neared him.

"W-what?" Mun-Gwang was so embarrassed he unknowingly voiced out his thoughts.

"What's the matter, young hero?"

"Is something wrong?"

"Oh, no. Haha, it's nothing."

Cold sweat flowed down his back as he tried to think of an excuse. Then Woo-Moon suddenly looked at him.

When he saw Woo-Moon's gaze, Mun-Gwang actually thought, in his cowardice, that Woo-Moon was in fact an Absolute Master hiding his identity. At the thought of such a person staring at him, his stomach ached and his face turned pale instantly.

From Woo-Moon's perspective, he just suddenly felt a gust of wind and heard a whooshing sound coming from behind. His instinct warned him, so he threw the water buckets he was holding in his right hand into the air and moved his hand to his back.

'What's this?'

He had actually caught a large nail flying at him. However, when he looked at where the nail had come from, he didn't see anyone there. Hence, he glanced behind him instead, noticing the disciple of the Kunlun Sect looking at him. The water buckets fell from the air at that moment, and he caught them all without even looking at them.

Woo-Moon had little experience with the hidden weapons used in the gangho[1], and couldn't find out who had thrown it at him.

He just tilted his head in confusion and headed to where the porters were, oblivious to how much he had just frightened Mun-Gwang through that simple glance.

That evening, Woo-Moon wandered around the market in a village quite far from where the guild had set up camp for the night. He then returned, having bought a fluffy cotton pillow from a store.

Indeed: Woo-Moon had come all the way here because one of the guild's inexperienced young men complained that he had forgotten to bring his own pillow.

'If you just wanted to be comfortable, why didn't you just stay at home instead of joining the caravan?!'

Grumbling in his heart, Woo-Moon headed back to the guild's campsite.

He suddenly felt depressed, wanting to wield his sword to his heart's content instead of wasting time like this.

Taking a look at his surroundings, he found nobody around him. Well, who would walk on a secluded trail on this gloomy night anyway?

Woo-Moon put down the pillow and drew his sword from its scabbard. His eyes lost focus in ecstasy, and the next moment, the tip of his sword embroidered the air with a silver line, moving in a completely unpredictable pattern.

It looked as if endless silver rain showered the ground around him. Rather than just going through the motions once or twice, Woo-Moon continued his training by using the Divine Phantasm Step. In the end, he felt relaxed, and his irritation subsided.

"Whew...." After finishing the sword dance, he exhaled deeply.

Just then, unexpectedly, he heard applause from next to him.

Clap clap clap clap!

"Oho! What great swordsmanship! I can't believe I've never seen it before. I'm so close to saying I've wasted my life."

The speaker was a man in his mid-thirties that looked like a Confucian scholar. He was the same person who carefully watched Woo-Moon's house while drinking alone in the opposite building not long ago.

Clad in snow-white clothes, the impressive man approached with a smile.

"You have excellent sword skills, young hero. May I ask the name of your master?"

The man exuded a unique atmosphere that couldn't be treated lightly.

No matter how much he thought about it, Woo-Moon couldn't figure out where it came from. Nevertheless, he answered the man's question. "I don't have a master."

That was true. Although he learned martial arts through the landscape painting of the old immortal he had met when he was still a kid, he hadn't officially become his disciple, so it would be a bit embarrassing to call the old immortal his master.

Hearing Woo-Moon's answer, the man clapped. "As expected! You are a young hero who stumbled upon a lucky chance and will save the world from crises in the future."

"... Huh?"

"At times like this, I shouldn't be too fussy about it. That would make it difficult for you to hide your identity, wouldn't it?" As he spoke, the man nodded to himself. He looked very excited.

"Well, that's not it..."

Woo-Moon tried to butt in, but the man didn't listen at all. Instead, he kept going.

"So, the sword art you just performed, I'm unfamiliar with. It's quite absurd for such mysterious sword art to be completely unknown in this day and age. Which horde of evil are you currently tracking? Blood Demon Cult? Four Calamitous Clans? Immortal Demon Society? Heretic Cult? Or is it a group that was recently formed?"

"Well, it's not like that..."

"I know, I know!"

The man joyously writing his own novel agreed with Woo-Moon's statement as easily and firmly as a sword passed through a head of cabbage. Woo-Moon had never seen such a peculiar individual.

The man smiled brightly. "It was just a joke. Hahahaha!" fr eewebn ovel.com

"Ah, I see..."

The man was indeed quite weird.

Woo-Moon cut their conversation short and turned away from him. He was pretty late anyway, and he knew that he had to get back quickly.

For some reason, the man followed Woo-Moon.

"Hey! This is fate! It would be quite disappointing for you to just leave like that. Where are you going? If we're heading in the same direction, let's travel together! I'm going to Go-Ryang Pyeong now! Hey!"

Woo-Moon, reluctant to associate with the strange man, increased his pace.

'Why is he following me? A crazy old man is following me!'

* * *

"How did this happen? Ugh..."

Someone gently tapped Woo-Moon's shoulder as he sighed. "Haha! Why are you sighing so deeply, young hero?"

In the end, Woo-Moon couldn't get away from the man. The scholar continued to pursue him tenaciously and even skillfully joined the business trip. He claimed to have great strength, making him a good fit as a porter.

The guild also readily agreed, saying that having more people wouldn't hurt. This allowed the man to continue following Woo-Moon.

"Young hero, can't you show that to me one more time? And do you really know no other techniques?"

He constantly pestered Woo-Moon to show him Raging Wind, Heavy Rain and other techniques for him.

"Didn't you already see them? And I'm not lying. I really don't know any other techniques. Let me sleep, please!"

Woo-Moon couldn't sleep at all. Seeing the eastern sky gradually getting brighter, he felt like he had stayed up all night. Of course, if he cultivated, he could relieve some of the fatigue he had accumulated, but there were certain things only sleeping could resolve.

Above all, Woo-Moon normally slept a lot, so he really felt exhausted now. He glared at the man, who was still very lively, with resentful eyes. His energy only made Woo-Moon hate him even more.

"Ahem, ahem. Why are you glaring at me so blatantly? Young hero, it's cumbersome. Unfortunately, I have no interest in men."

Woo-Moon became momentarily emotional, but he managed to hold it in. He then suddenly realized that he knew nothing about this man.

"I don't even know your name. Could you please tell me?"

"Me? Are names even that important? Just call me 'no-name'."

"Okay, Mr. No-name."

Woo-Moon quickly turned his head to the other side, and the nameless man clung to him. "Uh-huh, are you sulking because I didn't tell you my name? Oh my... it seems that you're still too young, little kid. Come on, show me your swordsmanship one more time. That'll make you feel better."

"I'm not sulking! And how would showing you my sword skills make me feel better?"

"Look at you! You're really pissed off. Don't do thaaaat. Don't be angry."

"No!"

Although he was middle-aged, his behavior was even more childish than Woo-Moon's. Dawn broke as they argued.

The nameless man was walking while humming a tune that sounded quite pleasant to the ear, but he suddenly stopped. He closed his eyes and focused deeply on something.

"It's not far away," he murmured.

Just in time, the caravan stopped for lunch. The nameless man grabbed Woo-Moon's arm.

"Come with me."

"What's the matter?"

"I'm going to give you a big present. Look forward to it."

1. Gangho (jianghu in Chinese) literally translates to "rivers and lakes," but figuratively refers to the world of martial arts. The difference between murim and gangho is that murim strictly refers to martial artists and their organizations, while gangho refers to the world where such people and organizations interact. Isolated martial schools and so on may not participate in the gangho, but they are a part of the murim, while not all people in the gangho are martial artists. ☜

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