Chapter 118
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: Heavenly Tribulation
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After the spar with the Southern General, So-hyang recovered from all her injuries in less than half a day, let alone a full day.
And then, like a colt with loosened reins, she roamed Beijing, continuing her spars.
With one of the two imperial scions closest to the line of succession backing her, she was able to cross blades with most of the imperial family's experts.
Thus, So-hyang left the bustling city streets filled with buildings and stepped into an open lot thick with yellow earth.
Clop, clop—the massive figure kicking up clouds of dust appeared.
As the dust cleared, it revealed a military officer with a thick-lined, fierce face and the sturdy build of a champion warrior.
However, So-hyang's gaze was drawn not to the man, but slightly elsewhere.
"...A horse?"
Large, intelligent eyes gleaming with wit, paired with ruggedly cracked muscles exuding raw wildness.
A red horse whose glossy coat flowed like sunlight radiating shine.
"I apologize for bringing another into what should be a one-on-one duel, but this general fights as cavalry with his comrade. I ask for your understanding."
Knight—heavy cavalry.
Ever since humans overcame physical limits through martial arts, most cavalry units had been replaced by pure manpower, but a few still honed classical mounted combat.
"Ahaha, no need to ask forgiveness? The more opponents I face, the better for me."
For instance, those like the Northern General, who demonstrated man-horse unity in martial prowess alongside spirit horses.
Just as humans transcended limits by taking in qi, beasts surpassed theirs by awakening spirituality and harboring energy.
When the two became one, even in the era after the War God, mounted soldiers could still exist.
Their energies intertwined solidly, amplifying not through simple addition but multiplicative synergy.
Most impressive was how they truly moved as one body—no exaggeration.
"Ho, a bond forged through communion with a spirit beast. So the Southern Beast Palace's arts work like this..."
The spirit beast's four legs delivered heavy, powerful yet flexible, swift, and unpredictable steps.
The warrior's trained arms and spear in hand concentrated that momentum into a single point.
Harnessing the unmatched size and height for overwhelming pressure, the crushing spear strikes chained fiercely with thundering hooves...
"Indeed, quite heavy."
But if she simply didn't meet them head-on, that was that.
So-hyang stepped onto the spear tip carrying the charge's momentum, drove it into the ground, and laughed delightedly.
"-What madness, keeping up with the Red Hare's speed...!?"
The essence of cavalry lay in massive mass mobilized into breakthrough force.
There was no reason to confront such a foe head-on; striking flanks, rear, or blind spots to preempt the charge was the proper response.
"But that wouldn't be any fun, would it?"
For So-hyang, the goal of combat was ascension, not victory. Choosing only easy paths led nowhere.
So-hyang had no comrade like the Northern General, but she possessed equivalent mass and mobility.
"...What!? Not dodging—"
Replicating the mounted charge with human legs alone, spear and sword clashed head-on to decide superiority.
"Cough...!"
In short, So-hyang had triumphed over the empire's foremost knight in a mounted charge duel.
"Whew, that was thrilling."
Starved for battle, So-hyang wasted no time after one duel ended, heading straight for the next opponent.
A circular building, a stage with purple drapes hanging over seats.
The performance hall where the imperial family enjoyed music.
"This girl is the palace musician of this hall. I do not particularly enjoy fighting, but if it is Your Highness Yeonhwa's command..."
A beautiful woman evoking purple anemones began plucking the pipa with dazzling fingerwork.
"Oh ho. Sound arts...?"
A type of qi projection manifesting physical force through sonic waves—a martial art shackled by talent, difficult to master without synesthetic fusion of sound and qi sense.
Rarely systematized due to few practitioners, yet she had reached a sublime realm, proving the palace musician's extraordinary gift.
Plucking strings.
Strings twanged to produce sound, profound power-laden waves flying toward So-hyang.
Continued plucking enveloped the surroundings in melodies so sweet that young and old alike would marvel.
Literally at the speed of sound.
"Sound wave attacks. Haven't seen one in ages."
"Eh."
Of course, So-hyang naturally tilted her head to evade the notes.
In her past life, most bullets were faster than sound, and generals' fists and spears seldom struck slower.
'Merely' sound speed made effective hits on So-hyang nigh impossible.
"No, that's not the point. How did you dodge invisible sound?"
The terror of sound arts lay in their stealth and disregard for distance.
Sound was inherently invisible.
Achieved masters could evade with instinct and senses once or twice, but fully dodging a barrage of sonic bombardment was—
"...? What do you mean? I could see it."
So-hyang tilted her head in honest puzzlement.
Air vibrations and qi flows were visible to the naked eye, no special senses needed.
"...? See what?"
The palace musician blankly repeated, stunned.
Seeing air vibrations? Discern all myriad notes from the subtle qi flows at plucking to dodge? Absurd.
What manner of monster...
"Hmm, right?"
Wearing an expression of genuine incomprehension, So-hyang approached the musician.
She had humored the conversation briefly, but this was mid-duel.
Words were for mouths; now, swords or melodies should converse.
"Hieeek! Stay back!!"
The palace musician shrieked in terror, frantically plucking strings nonstop.
If stealth failed, overwhelm with volume—an abundant score leaving no room to dodge, poured onto So-hyang.
"Ahem, I've faced plenty of similar things in my youth."
Explosions, flames, wind pressure, sonic waves—not mere projectiles, but space-devouring area destruction.
Weapons the old man of her past life endured endlessly, already overcome.
So-hyang raised her sword finger and roughly tore the air.
Atmosphere rent open, forming a transient vacuum that smothered incoming sonic waves from all directions.
Be it heat or waves, without air as medium, no real damage.
The realization allowing her to stand firm against modern weaponry—the principle of sword pressure.
"...Kyaaak!? What was th—"
Seeing an explosive burst from the sword without unleashed inner power, the already pale musician's face turned ashen.
Slender fingers moved desperately, plucking, striking, strumming to unleash a torrent of notes.
Ever-changing, bewildering chaos.
Razor-sharp sword tones.
Siege hammer-deep striking tones.
Piercing tones stabbing through.
Melodies and waves echoed storm-like within the hall, layering into a symphony laced with murderous intent toward one lone audience member.
One musician composing like an orchestra, a killer symphony for a single listener.
So-hyang considered vacuum via sword pressure again, but chose a novel approach.
Repeating comfortable responses led to stagnation.
She recalled the sword of Kang Pyo, the steadfast warrior who made resonance his true aspiration.
He honed vibrations into sharpness to cleave all barriers, but So-hyang focused on the echoes themselves.
Before long, the spirit sword in hand quivered finely, emitting a clear cry.
Fist met with fist, charge with charge.
Sound with sound.
A blade-sharp sword cry clashed against the symphony, frequencies meshing and shattering in cancellation.
"-Eh, uhe? Sound arts...?"
"Oh, it works."
Not content with inventing sound arts on the spot via swordsmanship, she utterly dismantled a lifetime of dedicated mastery—an unprecedented event.
Her life's efforts denied, the palace musician's eyes glazed vacantly.
The Eastern General wielding twin swords.
However, sword wielders gaining the upper hand against So-hyang was nigh impossible.
Especially as an orthodox swordsman focused on refined sword techniques over qi projection.
"Hmm, twin swords traditionally split offense and defense... but is obsessing over that distinction necessary?"
"Urk, what do you... Ah!"
Dissecting sword forms from root to tip, the duel devolved into instructional sparring.
"...Thank you for the lesson."
"No, I learned much too."
The Western General wielding a man-sized hammer as weapon.
"Ah, so the Thousand-Pound Hammer can be wielded this aggressively? I've learned a move."
"...Not words for the one blocking my hammer with one hand."
"Hey, it's heavy, sure, but not unmanageable."
"...No."
His style relied on grand physique and superhuman strength for brutal assaults, but So-hyang possessed even greater might.
"Thank you for humoring me."
"...No trouble."
With a graceful smile and courteous bow, the general awkwardly mirrored her in a sullen expression.
Imperial grandmaster versed in both Fiery Yang Earth Arts and Yin Cold Earth Arts.
Demonic Cult ambassador at Peak Demon realm.
Eastern Depot admiral skilled in stealth and assassination...
So-hyang sought out opponents one after another, sparring daily without respite for a full week.
And now.
The Imperial Princess sighed as if the earth might cave in.
"E-even I permitted it, but did you not fight utterly mercilessly...?"
So-hyang, braiding Moon Shadow's hair with an oddly glossy face, grinned sheepishly.
"Ahaha, I'm truly grateful, Your Highness."
"...Sigh, do you know what the capital's citizens have been calling you lately?"
"Hm? What?"
The empire's heart, the capital Beijing, boasted low crime rates and rare disturbances.
No underworld sects, bandits, or clashing martial artists like in typical cities or counties.
Dozens of transcendents resided there, and elite Golden Guards—peak experts—protected it.
Yet for a week, transcendent clashes thundered deafeningly within...
"Heavens, they call it the Heavenly Tribulation. Treating my friend like a calamity...!"
She hid her embarrassed face, yet couldn't deny the truth.
"...Haa, but thank you for holding back."
No deaths, few severe injuries requiring extended recovery besides Southern General Ouyang Ji.
To laymen, it seemed apocalyptic, but So-hyang had moderated to light gauging spars, not full sincerity.
"Which is why I ask: you're still unsatisfied, aren't you?"
The princess narrowed her signature golden dragon eyes, meeting So-hyang's gaze.
Peering into surface psyche fragments, she discerned the half-sated desire now blazing fiercer.
"What can be done?"
It was pouring water into a bottomless jar, akin to climbing endless skies.
A craving surpassing even the starving ghost devouring kin and self.
"In that vein, I've brought good information."
A wandering calamity ranking top among transcendents.
Sword ghost enthralled by the War God's demon sword.
"The Dreamwalking Sword Demon... know of him?"
In other words, a foe strong enough to kill.
Madness erupted from her pale eyes, long shrouded tight.
"Tell me the details."