SDG 68

Chapter 68

Until I saw it with my own eyes, I hadn’t realized that a formation was spread around the pond.

I didn’t know the details of formations, but I knew enough to understand what that meant.

‘A high-tier formation.’

Formations were techniques that twisted the laws of nature to manifest supernatural effects.
Normally, formations weren’t too difficult to decipher.
The problem lay with ones like this—upper-tier formations.

Without specialized knowledge, even finding them was difficult, let alone breaking them.

‘It’s good that I at least figured out how to open the formation’s gate, but…’

The problem was that the method required a strike from a true transcendent master.

Although I’d handled Yu Guk without too much trouble, my actual martial level wasn’t anywhere near the transcendent realm.
In fact, I wasn’t even sure I had truly reached the pinnacle realm.

‘At best, I’m mid-level among first-rate experts.’

It had been less than half a year since I’d awakened as Geum Jamun, recovered from my terminal condition, and resumed training.
That kind of growth speed was absurd.

Of course, my body as Geum Jamun played a major role in that.
The demonic energy techniques I’d used to cure my terminal state had turned out to be an unexpected blessing.

After all, demonic techniques were still martial arts.
Their properties might be impure, but learning them had laid a foundation for me to cultivate true martial arts afterward.
Normally, the side effects of such techniques would prevent anyone from taking advantage of that, but—well, who was I?

I was Zahashin, the Sword God of the Purple River—someone who had even faced the Heavenly Demon himself.
A petty demonic technique like Goruma Gong was nothing to me.

Still, even I hadn’t reached the pinnacle within the given time.
That’s just how martial arts worked—building an unshakable tower over time.

Of course, there were shortcuts.
But shortcuts always came with consequences—side effects, instability, limits.
A tower built without the material of time would have weak foundations.
You’d never know when it might collapse.

‘My current pace is the best I can do. Any faster and it’d all come crashing down.’

So I decided to train properly.
And “properly” didn’t just mean perfecting my martial techniques.
It meant perfecting the Way itself.

That required a tower stronger and broader from the start than anyone else’s.
That’s why I’d been deliberately restraining my own progress.
And I never once thought that choice was wrong.

Even now, that belief hadn’t changed.

‘If I broaden my perspective… I don’t actually need to be a transcendent master to open that formation.’

It was obvious that Gongjin hadn’t used his full strength when he unleashed that punch.
If he had, the entire area—including the formation—would’ve been obliterated.

Which meant… it was possible.

I didn’t need to be a transcendent to replicate that strike—just reproduce its essential qualities.

‘If only I could completely understand that strike from earlier…’

If I could mimic it, even partially, I could open the formation myself later.
It’d take practice, sure. But still doable.

First, though—

‘If I could see it one more time, I could be certain.’

The Divine Sword forgets nothing.
I still remembered every detail of that punch.
But memory and understanding were different realms.
I needed another observation.

I waited patiently.

When Lady Seol entered the formation, I saw the gate close behind her.
Meaning she’d have to open it again to come back out.
That would be my chance.

Just as I settled in to wait, Gongjin, who had been staring at where Lady Seol vanished, suddenly turned to me.

After a moment’s scrutiny, he furrowed his brow slightly and spoke.

“I do not know what pitiful circumstances brought you here, but the dead should not meddle in the affairs of the living. Causing harm is even less permissible. So I’ll give you this chance—depart while you can.”

Ah. A misunderstanding.

Apparently, he could sense my presence but not see me clearly.
Otherwise, his reaction would’ve been far more cautious.

And that made sense—
I didn’t look like the usual ghosts people imagined.
I looked… exactly like myself in life.

Typical spirits appeared grotesque—long disheveled hair, torn mouths, blood weeping from empty eyes.
I, however, looked clean and calm.

Had he seen me clearly, he’d have realized I wasn’t a ghost at all—and that would’ve alarmed him.
A living being showing up here in this state? Suspicious at best.

Still, that wasn’t bad for me.
It meant he wasn’t wary.
He probably thought I was just some wandering spirit with a grudge against Lady Seol.

So, easing his guard wasn’t difficult.
I simply took a few steps back.

That alone was enough to put him at ease.

“You can speak, so you must’ve accumulated great virtue in life. For such a one to become a vengeful spirit—how pitiful. Amitabha.”

He was a little curious but didn’t press further.
Turning away, he refocused on the pond.

So long as I didn’t harm Lady Seol, he wasn’t going to interfere.

‘So this is what they mean by a pragmatic monk, huh.’

A typical monk would’ve prioritized human souls absolutely and sought to purify me on the spot.
But Gongjin clearly wasn’t your average monk.

‘He’s definitely not the kind who hides in a monastery all day.’

He wasn’t rigid-minded—and I liked that.
A martial artist needs flexible thinking.
Only those with adaptability survive this treacherous martial world—
they bleed less, die less.

The saying “the rigid breaks easily” existed for a reason.
Though, thinking of someone like Jincheon, I couldn’t say it was a perfect rule.

Anyway, I was at a safe distance now, still able to observe.

And after a long wait, my patience was rewarded.

Gongjin struck the formation again.

This time I focused completely—
and gained far more information than before.

At the same time, I was certain.

‘To replicate that even roughly… at least three months.’

If Gongjin continued guarding this place, I might never get a chance to try.
But—

‘Three months? Realistically, ten days should do.’

I recalculated the necessary effort to open the formation, excluding Gongjin’s power level.

‘It only needs to achieve a similar effect, after all.’

When I saw his second strike, I understood completely.
It didn’t have to be identical.

Because—

Kyaaah!

Lady Seol screamed from within the formation.
The shockwave from Gongjin’s strike had swept her up, even shaking the pavilion itself.

That hadn’t happened the first time.
Naturally—his technique had changed.

Which meant—
as long as certain conditions were met, the gate would open.

‘At this rate… I could probably do it right now.’

I glanced toward Gongjin again.
Lady Seol had reappeared, furiously hurling curses at him.

The amusing part was Gongjin’s face.
He pretended to be unmoved, but I caught the faint upward curl of his lips.
He was enjoying it.

For all his stoic monk appearance, the man was deeply human.

‘How long does he plan to keep guarding this place, I wonder.’

That was the only remaining issue.
The timing.

‘It’s not like I can just ignore him and proceed. But confronting him directly isn’t an option either.’

Fight a transcendent master head-on?
Honestly, I didn’t know.
I was confident, yes—but I’d never actually fought one before.
Hard to be objective about something like that.

One thing was certain, though—

‘Winning quietly would be impossible, even for me.’

To take down a transcendent without making a sound?
Even a top-level master couldn’t do that in a fair fight.

A surprise attack might work—
but that wasn’t even an option.

Killing someone for personal convenience, someone unrelated to me—
that would make me a murderer, no better than the assassins I despised.
Even if it meant giving up the Gold Flower Merchant Guild’s treasure, I wouldn’t stoop to that.

‘I’ll withdraw for today.’

Originally, I’d planned to scout with Geumdu’s help, infiltrate directly, and finish it all in one go.
But not today.

Of course, I wasn’t leaving empty-handed.
Once I returned, I’d use the Hao Clan’s information network.
Someone of Gongjin’s caliber—Hao Clan surely had records on him.

If I could gather intel, I might find a solution.

But just as I turned to leave—

‘…He’s following me?’

Gongjin himself had begun to follow.

The reason was obvious—
He intended to exorcise me.

Only then did I understand.
The reason he’d let me stay at a distance was not mercy—
it was surveillance.

He planned to keep me within his sight until he could personally deal with me.

A laugh escaped me.

‘So Lady Seol was acting as his restraint all along.’

As someone once said—“Even dung can be medicine.”
Apparently, that was true.

Not that it mattered anymore.
Because I didn’t need to do a thing.

Someone else was already watching through my eyes.