Chapter 33
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Combined Strike
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So-hyang's judgment was spot on.
The Zhuge Clan's signature formation martial arts.
They unfold their domain to amplify their abilities, perceive movements within the space in three dimensions, and reflexively output responses the moment they register them.
There are various variations, but most don't stray from this framework, and they all share a chronic flaw.
Because computational power has its limits.
If one could handle infinite calculations, they could respond to every variable, implement complex formations, and even amplify their innate abilities. But that was only possible for the founder two hundred years ago.
In reality, even most peak-level martial artists can't manage that level of computation, so they tend to produce somewhat mechanical, rigid movements.
In the end, it means the baseline and peak performance are sharply divided by innate comprehension.
That's also why, even when supreme arts are passed down to all who reach the peak, the core figures of the clan are mostly direct descendants.
The Zhuge bloodline is truly exceptional; the closer to the direct line, the more likely they are born with genius-level comprehension.
Of course, the Origin Core Formation Art also enhances the functions of the upper dantian as proficiency deepens, but even that effect scales with one's foundational comprehension.
Of course, being able to make judgments without the slightest delay is a tremendous advantage, but for ordinary people, the limits are clear.
However, the Zhuge Clan aren't fools. Over time, they devised ways to compensate for the flaw.
If intelligence falls short, pool your heads together.
Parallel distribution of computational power through layered formations.
Efficiency gains through cooperation and division of labor.
The solution was the Combined Strike Formation.
The formations unfolded simultaneously by multiple martial artists merged seamlessly into one, filling the space with even denser internal energy.
That alone exerted an immense pressure, binding the opponent's movements.
"Ho, this is somewhat..."
But in the end, that's secondary. The truly crucial part is the explosive increase in computational power.
It's not just adding up their individual abilities—it's multiplicative amplification, allowing even finer perception and calculation of movements within the formation.
A complexly interlinked, higher-dimensional formation that completes like a chemical reaction, pushing each person's abilities to their limits.
It's on another level from their previous mechanical, rigid swordplay.
Sword strikes flew at So-hyang from all eight directions, none interfering with each other's paths, interlocking like precision gears.
With their minds linked through the deployed formation, they moved not as individuals, but truly as one.
"Ah, this is new!"
A combined strike formation to overwhelm a superior expert with numbers—it didn't exist in her previous life.
No matter how great a martial artist, getting ganged up on by a crowd with weapons is logically hopeless, right?
History records such figures from the past, but they were just legends on paper, so So-hyang would lament that she'd been born in the wrong era.
The close-quarters combat systems used by trained soldiers were somewhat similar, but she'd never experienced such techniques firsthand.
A glint appeared in So-hyang's silvery-white eyes.
The Zhuge Clan was originally renowned for military strategy. They shine more in groups than alone.
In terms of combined strike proficiency, no one in the Central Plains martial world surpasses the Zhuge Clan.
If comparing power, Shaolin's One Hundred Eight Arhats Formation comes closest, but that's because the Arhats themselves are brutally strong—the formation itself is basic.
"Hahaha! No breathing room, huh!?"
So-hyang dodged the intricately weaving dozen swords with fierce movements.
Their linkages were artistic; she couldn't evade multiple strikes with minimal motion.
"-Eek!"
Twisting her neck as if it might snap, bending her waist as if to slap her back on the ground, even rolling across the floor.
"This is...!"
She barely managed the first few volleys, but she was hitting her limit.
The heavy chest mass shaking violently with her unprecedented acrobatics was especially annoying.
If not for this, she could've dodged a few more times—though the outcome wouldn't change.
"Ahaha, can't keep dodging forever!"
Each of their attacks was a setup move. The longer the combo, the narrower the evasion space.
It was like a game of master-level shogi—something skill alone couldn't overcome.
There simply wasn't physical space left to dodge.
"But then, I can just block, right?"
So-hyang raised her hand to catch a blade, and with the screech of grinding metal, its path began to twist.
A fatal error disrupted the perfectly meshed gears.
One sword deviated from its trajectory.
"Wha, whoa!?"
That sword pushed another, the shoved sword blocked yet another, the ricocheting blade stabbed into the floor, tripping a comrade's foot.
Shoulders collided, feet tangled on embedded swords, balance lost—comrades who moments ago supported each other became obstacles in that instant.
"A, aaack!?"
Like a clown troupe's farce, a single counterattack toppled their linkage like dominoes.
Truly technique beyond reason.
"Wha, what...!"
Their judgments froze at the incomprehensible sight. So-hyang didn't miss the opening.
First, to repay their earlier sword strikes, she targeted the peak expert leader at full maturity.
"Hey, nice to meet you!"
She bounded lightly before him in one leap, thrusting her fist with springy elasticity.
"Don't get cocky-!"
Even in chaos, his response was immediate.
The formation held, amplified computations intact.
He countered with fluid, pristine motion upon approach.
The reflexively drawn sword through the formation had no delay, its completion near-perfect.
"Gurk!?"
But the one surpassing perfection twisted slyly to deflect the counter and slammed her fist into his jaw.
The leader collapsed unconscious without fully unleashing his sword silk-wrapped blade.
"...L-Leader!!"
With their strongest neutralized, the rest couldn't respond properly.
She methodically dished out jaw-cracking punches to the survivors, then wiped her spotless forehead with a refreshed expression.
"Ah, that was fun!"
Oh, and she didn't forget to tuck a gold ingot into each of their bosoms.
Unique martial art of formation techniques.
Higher-dimensional formations constructing separate realms.
Intricately exquisite combined strike linkages.
It was certainly a thrilling experience, but just that—an experience, not true combat.
"Tsk, still lacking."
In the end, she hadn't even drawn her sword, breaching them barehanded.
Their basic class mismatch made it inevitable.
"Guess I'll have to face a transcendent expert after all..."
For a proper back-and-forth at equal footing, she'd need to clash with a transcendent master.
That was the goal from the start, yet here she was, wrecking the household instead.
So-hyang looked at the strewn martial artists and trashed furnishings, smiling sheepishly.
"...Yeah, went a bit overboard?"
It was pure pandemonium—no fatalities, but everything else was in ruins.
Knocked out the gatekeepers, smashed security formations, took down an entire armed unit.
So-hyang felt a twinge of guilt—she still had a human heart—but decided to focus on her original objective.
"That said, after all this chaos, the transcendent expert still hasn't shown?"
Not to brag, but this was invasion-level, warranting personal intervention.
What could she do? If they wouldn't come greet her, she'd crash their party.
"You watching? Coming to meet you now?"
So-hyang turned, addressing the empty air, and lightly slashed with her hand blade.
Space parted cleanly, revealing not the black-and-white void of the Illusionary Array, but the colorful outside world.
A modest office filled with ink and paper scents.
So-hyang had sliced toward the strongest gaze felt from outside.
"Hello, are you the Zhuge Clan Lord?"
In other words, the middle-aged man with deep brown hair pinching his brow was the head of the Zhuge Clan.
"...This is insane. What the hell are you?"
So-hyang replied with a bright smile.
"Nothing much. Just a martial artist here to request a spar with the Zhuge Clan."
The clan lord's expression twisted further, doubts unresolved.
"Then just apply formally! Why the fuck pull this shit?!"
"I greeted the gatekeepers politely, requesting a spar, but they wouldn't allow it...?"
Admittedly misleading, but not a lie.
"You, ah, this fucking, crazy...!"
The lord clutched his nape, swallowing furious curses as his face reddened.
Seeing this, So-hyang's soft heart prompted an excuse.
"...B-But no one died or got seriously hurt. Knocked 'em out clean, no aftereffects. And I left compensation gold, though it might not be enough?"
"Huuuuh..."
As the Zhuge Clan's representative, he was the strongest and smartest among the bloodline.
Thus, he could roughly guess this beauty's behavioral pattern.
Barging in shamelessly, beating up martial artists, yet tossing gold out of some conscience.
"Fine, got it. Just your typical lunatic."
In the barbaric society of the martial world, such types were surprisingly common.
Martial artists with "ghost" or "mad" in their nicknames—obsessed with ascension, devouring norms for breakfast.
Some retained a modicum of sense, but their self-willed actions made them worse.
Not evil, but mad.
The issue: a transcendent expert with a face he'd never seen.
The Central Plains is vast, but transcendent masters number barely a hundred.
Most know each other or have circulating intel.
Even newly ascended, it didn't add up.
With such distinctive looks, any wanderings would spread rumors—yet no record of her movements.
"Oh, that's because I'm new to the rivers and lakes."
"...New?"
What kind of debut does a transcendent make post-ascension?
And picks our house as the first stop?
"...Hah, feels like qi deviation."
At this point, understanding was futile.
"So... will you spar with me?"
Regardless, So-hyang had one focus.
A proper spar, real combat, an equal opponent to clash full power.
Attacking the Zhuge Clan might seem playful bullying, but she was deadly serious.
In this martial world, awakening without a peer for exchange was horrific.
Equal duels, ensuing insights, pursuing higher martial arts—
In the end, So-hyang was sword-mad.
"If I refuse, will you leave quietly?"
"...That might be tough."
The lord met So-hyang's smiling, troubled gaze.
Eyes gleaming, voice low—pure maniac.
"Then why even ask..."
The lord tilted his head back, drew a deep sigh, gnashed his teeth.
So, she storms in, trashes the place,
Tosses gold like compensation, then demands a spar like it's nothing.
Veins bulged on the lord's forehead.
"You think I'm a pushover?"
Without warning, the clan lord's office exploded.
Zhuge Clan's 32nd Lord, Zhuge Hyeon.
Known simply as Heavenly Mechanism during his wanderings,
A talented martial artist who reached transcendent realm just past forty.
After ascending and inheriting leadership, he focused on clan duties, leaving no notable exploits, thus just called Zhuge Clan Lord without further titles.
Hence, the world doesn't rate his skills highly.
One of the so-called Top Hundred Masters, transcendent experts.
As heir to one of the Five Great Clans' arts, upper-mid tier at best, but lags behind other major sects' figures, they say.
Perhaps due to the Zhuge's characteristically frail impression, or their arts' high floor but low ceiling trait.
So it's perceived.
Is that really the case?