Became a God-Level Martial Artist

Chapter 30: Just Coaxing and Calming

Flower Moon Pavilion, an establishment run by a father and his son.

It had always been bustling with guests thanks to its renowned cuisine, but now, a dreadful scene had unfolded.

More than a dozen martial artists lay sprawled across the floor, their bodies crudely severed.

In the middle of it all, the middle-aged owner of the inn held the corpse of his son in his arms, weeping endlessly.

The gathered crowd let out sighs of grief.

A father wailing over his son’s death, the sight of so many corpses—it was not something one often saw in such a small village.

Before long, a group arrived, causing the people to step back in shock.

Even those unfamiliar with martial arts could sense the extraordinary presence emanating from them.

On the white martial robes they wore, the character for Alliance (盟) was embroidered across their chests.

They were the White Sword Hall (白劍黨), an elite unit of the Murim Alliance, created for the sole purpose of hunting down enemies of the martial world.

Do Won-hyeok, Hall Master of White Sword Hall, frowned.

Having reached Peak Master Level in his mere forties, he had slain countless enemies of the martial world. Before even reaching fifty, he had become the youngest ever to lead the hall.

Looking over the tragic sight around Flower Moon Pavilion, the Hall Master spoke.

“It is clearly the work of the Food Butcher.”

The Food Butcher was a demonic figure designated by the Murim Alliance as a First-Class Enemy of the Martial World.

Even those classified as Third-Class Enemies could, by themselves, annihilate small or medium sects.

First-Class Enemies, second only to Special-Class, were akin to a plague upon the world by their very existence.

While his subordinates swiftly examined the corpses and surroundings, the Hall Master approached the grieving father.

The most difficult moments of this work were not facing powerful demonic cultivators, nor chasing down cunning ones who fled.

It was moments like this—standing before victims just after one of these fiends had unleashed a bloodbath.

Each time, Do Won-hyeok felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness. No matter how many demonic weeds were plucked, more always grew back.

He knew in his mind that eradicating every demonic cultivator in the world was impossible, yet every time he saw such carnage, he felt powerless.

The Hall Master bowed his head to the owner of Flower Moon Pavilion.

“I am Do Won-hyeok, Hall Master of White Sword Hall under the Murim Alliance. We failed to arrive sooner, and this tragedy unfolded. I am sorry.”

The bereaved father gazed at him with empty eyes.

Those eyes—every time Do Won-hyeok faced them, it felt as though his heart were being shredded.

“...It cannot truly be called revenge, but we will pursue the Food Butcher and slay him as swiftly as possible. On the name of White Sword Hall. I ask for your cooperation.”

The Hall Master skillfully drew out testimony.

The father, having received a promise from such a high figure of the Murim Alliance, forced down his grief and recounted what had happened.

Though emotional and lengthy, Do Won-hyeok listened patiently, organizing the story in his mind.

In summary:

A man had come alone to Flower Moon Pavilion.

He ordered many dishes, tasting each one carefully.

He distinguished between those cooked by the skilled father and those made by the still-inexperienced son.

Declaring the son unworthy of being a cook, he insulted him and suddenly swung his blade.

“By chance, was it a round knife used for slaughtering chickens?”

A butcher’s knife, often called a chicken knife, thick and blunt, designed to cleave bones with ease.

When the innkeeper nodded, Do Won-hyeok was certain the culprit was the Food Butcher.

The fiend was known for his peculiar preference for using chicken knives or square cleavers.

“Thank you. I will make sure to kill him for you.”

It was the only promise the Hall Master could make to one who had lost his family.

When the investigation was nearly complete and the White Sword Hall prepared to leave, the innkeeper approached.

“He mentioned the Seong-un Inn in Yichang.”

“Seong-un Inn?”

The Hall Master tried to recall the familiar name. With so many villains in the world and endless information flowing in, memories often grew hazy.

According to the innkeeper, as the Food Butcher was leaving after his slaughter, another man approached him and recommended a place called Seong-un Inn in Yichang.

He gestured toward a corpse—apparently, the man who had recommended the inn to the Butcher had not escaped death either.

Just then, one of the subordinates searching the body gasped.

“It’s a wooden tag bearing the emblem of the Southern Black Lotus!”

“Southern Black Lotus!”

At that, Do Won-hyeok remembered Seong-un Inn. He had come across the name while investigating the death of the Prosperity Association Leader, the second son of the Southern Black Lotus Lord.

Strange incidents had kept occurring around that small inn, making it memorable.

And now, even the First-Class Enemy, the Food Butcher, had supposedly been directed there by someone under the Southern Black Lotus.

In other words, the Southern Black Lotus believed that Seong-un Inn was deeply involved in the Prosperity Association Leader’s death.

“We depart for Yichang at once. Send word to the Alliance, requesting reinforcements of at least Hall Master-level experts.”

The Food Butcher was a Peak Master Level martial artist.

Do Won-hyeok was confident in a one-on-one fight, but such enemies of the martial world never fought fair.

They might seize hostages, release poison, or burn down entire villages before fleeing.

To safely subdue a Peak Master Level demonic cultivator, at least three to four times the force was required.

With the Southern Black Lotus also entangled, caution was paramount.

“Yes, sir!”

As the orders rang out, White Sword Hall scattered like the wind, determined not to be late this time.

Clang—!

A ceramic wine bottle flew through the air of Seong-un Inn and shattered against the wall.

The diners turned wide-eyed toward the broken shards, spilled liquor soaking into the wooden floor.

“That bastard…”

Seomun Ak scowled deeply and moved to step forward.

The one who had thrown the bottle was a man in his forties. From the moment he had entered the inn, his swaggering attitude had grated on him.

From the looks of it, he had picked up a bit of martial arts somewhere and threw his weight around locally, but at best, he was only Third Rate.

He could never imagine that the average martial level of those working at Seong-un Inn was above the Peak Master Level.

But Baek Sang suddenly grabbed Seomun Ak’s shoulder, stopping him. When Seomun Ak looked at him in puzzlement, Baek Sang gave a small nod and stepped forward himself.

‘How dare he cause trouble in this inn.’

Baek Sang glared at the man and advanced, thinking this might be a chance to earn favor with Jin Seong-un, who might one day become his teacher.

“You there!”

Baek Sang raised his voice at the man.

The drunkard glared back, enraged. How dare a mere inn servant defy him publicly?

With the Prosperity Association gone, there was no one left nearby who would treat him so disrespectfully.

“What did you say?”

The man boldly retorted, his drunkenness fueling his insolence.

Baek Sang, making a face as if to say this fellow won’t do at all, reached out. His intent was simply to drag the man outside without disturbing the other guests.

But faster than him—

Tak. Jin Seong-un grasped Baek Sang’s wrist.

Baek Sang turned to him, bewildered, and then witnessed something he could not comprehend.

“I apologize, Hero. You are a martial artist, after all.”

“A martial artist? Y-Yes, that’s right.”

In truth, the man had never considered himself one. He had merely bought and learned martial arts off the streets, never once acting within the martial world.

But Jin Seong-un deliberately spoke in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Martial artists’ bodies are like tigers’, so ordinary liquor often feels no different from water to them. I must have offended you by serving common wine, which surely tasted like plain water to a man such as yourself.”

From the corner, No Sang-won chimed in.

“Unbelievable! For such strong liquor to taste like water to him!”

A smug look flickered across the man’s face.

Jin Seong-un immediately brought out an even stronger wine and presented it.

“This is my gift to you, to apologize for my ignorance.”

“Ahem, very well, I accept.”

The emotions of the intoxicated were volatile.

To be publicly flattered in front of many quickly lifted his spirits.

Especially so since he was not truly well-versed in martial arts.

Setting the new bottle on the table, Jin Seong-un promptly went to clean up the broken shards and wipe the floor.

Baek Sang and Seomun Ak could not understand. With his martial skills, Jin Seong-un could have easily thrown such a man outside.

But their confusion soon turned into admiration.

The drunk, cheered by the compliments and bolstered by the stronger wine, began ordering more dishes and drinks.

No Sang-won’s timely additions helped as well.

“Again? He orders again! Truly, martial artists never seem to grow drunk!”

For a boastful man like him, it was impossible not to order more drinks after such words.

In Baek Sang’s eyes, No Sang-won should quit the cloth shop and become a professional shill instead.

In the end, Seong-un Inn earned several times more money from the man than from the bottle he had thrown at the start.

As business neared its end, only No Sang-won and his close acquaintances remained.

Baek Sang carefully approached Jin Seong-un, who was quietly clearing the tables.

“Were you not offended in the least?”

The respectful tone, born of the thought that Jin Seong-un might one day be his teacher, quickly shifted back to casual speech—since Jin Seong-un clearly disliked formality.

Jin Seong-un answered lightly.

“As long as I’m selling liquor, it cannot be helped. If I meant to throw out every fellow like that, I should not be a servant but a martial artist.”

“Heo!”

“Pride doesn’t put food on the table.”

Saying this, Jin Seong-un resumed clearing the tables. Watching him silently, a sudden realization struck Baek Sang.

‘That’s Taiji (太極)!’

Dragging out a drunkard by force would have been easy. They possessed overwhelming martial strength, after all.

But to appease him, lift his mood, and make him open his purse—that was difficult.

Especially for someone like Seomun Ak, whose temperament could never allow such a thing. Thinking on it, Baek Sang found the earlier scene even more impressive.

“Softness overcoming hardness!”

To subdue the strong with the soft.

It was the very principle that the Wudang Sect held dearest in their study of Taiji.

At last, Baek Sang began to understand why the Elder so desired Jin Seong-un.

Jin Seong-un, seeing his expression, asked as if to say what nonsense are you spouting?

“Just coaxing and calming.”

“Heo!”

Yes, that was it.

Coaxing and calming.

The Wudang sword did not meet attacks head-on; it coaxed and calmed.

No matter how fierce or domineering the strike, before Wudang’s softness it became meaningless.

Just as the bottle thrown in malice had instead made the drunkard spend even more money.

Baek Sang nodded to Jin Seong-un with the look of one who had grasped something profound.

Meanwhile, sweeping the floor beside them, Seomun Ak stared at Baek Sang with a face that said what kind of bullshit is this? Clearly, the Wudang siblings had eaten something wrong the previous night.

At that moment, two drunken figures staggered into the inn. From the heavy reek of wine, they had already been drinking heavily.

“Seong-un, have you finished with business?”

It was Hyeon-un and Shin Mok. For days, the two had been enjoying their reunion with drink and talk.

Arm in arm, the pair chuckled as they looked at Jin Seong-un.

“...Not yet.”

“That so?”

Hyeon-un smiled warmly. Though once doubtful, now that he had opened his heart, merely seeing Jin Seong-un filled him with strength.

“There’s a place you must come with us to right away.”

“...Where to?”

“Lake Zhang in Jingzhou.”

It was a great lake near Jingzhou.

Not far, yet not so close that Jin Seong-un did not feel troubled.

“As you can see, I am still in business, elders.”

But Hyeon-un and Shin Mok seemed not to hear him. They had already resolved themselves.

“Excellent. Let’s go!”

“Let’s go! I’ll teach you how to care for the inn’s wood. Nowhere else will you hear such knowledge!”

At Shin Mok’s words, Jin Seong-un’s eyes flickered with interest. Few had the chance to learn from one of the world’s finest craftsmen.

Maintaining and repairing the inn was also part of its business.

The problem was, business would not end for another two hours.

As Jin Seong-un hesitated, a voice called from the kitchen—it was Seo Yu-gyeom.

“Go. With both a servant and a cook here, what is there to worry about?”

Seo Yu-gyeom believed Jin Seong-un should sometimes take a break like this. Especially since Baek Sang, Baek Seol, and Seomun Ak would not work here forever, now was the time.

With Seo Yu-gyeom encouraging him, Baek Sang chimed in as well—already knowing Hyeon-un’s plan.

Even No Sang-won and his friend, already drunk, urged him to go.

Jin Seong-un glanced around the inn, still hesitant.

Thanks to Baek Sang and Seomun Ak working diligently, there was little left for him to do lately.

And at this hour, the only guest was No Sang-won.

With Seo Yu-gyeom in the kitchen, there was little risk. Yet as the innkeeper, leaving still felt uneasy.

Regardless, as though his answer were already decided, the two elders strode out, calling:

“Come now! Let’s go!”

Their determination was clear.

Hyeon-un wished to drink with Jin Seong-un, and Shin Mok wished to see for himself the youth Hyeon-un held in such regard.

With two of the age’s greatest elders pressing him, it was difficult to refuse further.

Jin Seong-un sighed softly and followed after them. Before leaving, he gave instructions to Seo Yu-gyeom, Baek Sang, Baek Seol, and Seomun Ak.

“Do not worry and go, sir.”

Baek Sang nodded with a reliable smile. Was this not the very reason he was here—to support the Elder’s intentions?

Thus, Jin Seong-un left with the two elders. Luckily, with business nearly finished, no new guests came for a while.

Even the last guest, No Sang-won, paid and stumbled out drunk.

Just as they were about to close shop—

“Is business done?”

A man entered the inn.

Seomun Ak and Baek Sang exchanged glances. For a servant, a guest arriving at closing time was hardly welcome.

Seomun Ak’s eyes said plainly: Just send him away.

But Baek Sang, having just sworn to trust Jin Seong-un and let him go in peace, could not easily do so.

After a moment’s hesitation, he said:

“Not yet. Please, take a seat.”

Seomun Ak’s glare spat silent curses.

Nevertheless, Baek Sang guided the man to a table.

The newcomer was fairly large—about Seomun Ak’s size, or slightly smaller.

Fortunately, Baek Sang sensed no martial aura from him.

Of course, it was possible he was a master beyond their ability to perceive—but highly unlikely. Yichang was not such a place.

“What may I prepare for you?”

The man looked Baek Sang up and down with interest before speaking.

“Everything.”

“Pardon?”

“Bring out every dish you can prepare at once.”

Baek Sang hesitated.

Seomun Ak shot him a resentful look that said See? I told you we shouldn’t have accepted him. The man reeked of trouble.

“What, do you think I cannot pay?”

The man smirked as Baek Sang forced a smile.

Then, chuckling, he placed a heavy wallet on the table. The sound was solid, and Baek Sang’s eyes widened.

“Do not worry. I am simply a man who loves food, traveling the world for it.”

Baek Sang nodded. He had heard of such people. Just as martial artists roamed the Jianghu, wealthy gourmets traveled for food.

Though usually, such gourmets traveled with guards in tow.

“I will bring it shortly. Please wait a moment.”

As Baek Sang turned toward the kitchen, the man called after him with a laugh.

“Yes, tell the cook as well. To prepare it with his very life on the line.”

Baek Sang paused briefly.

A most troublesome guest indeed.

Still, seeing how much he had just sold, Jin Seong-un would surely be pleased upon his return.