Chapter 63
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Dispersion
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"But you survived, right?"
"Heh heh."
Qinghe True Person had already stopped moving his sword. He withdrew the flow of the Taiji Insight Sword and let out a hollow laugh.
"So, is that it?"
"...As if."
It was merely one technique that had been dismantled.
Though that technique contained his life's work as an ultimate art, it held no true importance for a martial artist.
What mattered was devoting one's entire heart to overcoming the opponent.
Qinghe True Person readjusted his stance and began unfolding the Taiji Sword once more.
However, So-hyang preempted the sword's flow, which was attempting to trace a circle amid what seemed like a faintly sinister smile.
"The same sword art won't work twice, will it?"
The Taiji Sword—a Wudang martial art that created a profound, heavy flow through continuous, undulating motions across all sides.
A sword technique that softly suppressed the foe with ceaseless movement and sustained its momentum by drawing circles.
The strategy So-hyang had devised was simple: prevent the flow from beginning in the first place.
"...!?"
She read and severed his attempt to retreat and swing horizontally.
"What...!"
She kicked away his left hand, which had extended to push her back with a face strike, and crushed the rotation of his sword.
"Urk!"
Though he tried to widen the distance with the elegant footwork of the Cloud Skirt Sect, she circled behind him first and stomped his back, halting his movement.
She struck.
She grabbed.
Pulled.
Blocked, blocked, utterly blocked.
He couldn't create any distance.
Qinghe True Person couldn't hide his panic.
The Insight Eye was a vision that beheld from a higher realm.
It could comprehend even Flower Realm martial arts and displayed foresight-like prowess when viewing those below Absolute Peak.
So-hyang's movements were clearly reflected in his eyes right now.
He could see the future, could clearly foresee her responses—yet still, he couldn't seize the advantage.
That was only natural.
Within a distance of just over three chi, where their swords could reach each other.
There was no way to escape So-hyang, who was deliberately blocking his movements within this radius.
Especially since So-hyang had long since reached the pinnacle in swordsmanship.
"...Urk!"
Qinghe True Person couldn't conceal his flustered demeanor.
He had known her swordsmanship was exceptional, but he hadn't imagined the gap would be this vast.
Even seeing her fully with the Insight Eye didn't mean he could comprehend her.
Qinghe True Person couldn't understand So-hyang's techniques.
"If it's a sword art that only unleashes its full power by drawing a circle, then just stop it from drawing the circle at all, right?"
In truth, it was merely overwhelming him with superior sword prowess—scarcely a proper counter or strategy.
-Still, it was undeniably effective.
"Ha, this is maddening..."
No matter if one counted lifetimes, the span of years lived or time devoted to the martial path— she was an unfathomably junior disciple.
He had known it bone-deep already, but such things were utterly irrelevant.
The familiar helplessness, the hazy remnants of inferiority, the despair he thought forgotten—all reared their heads once more.
"Kuhuhu..."
Qinghe True Person had never been one to obsess over accumulating martial prowess like other martial artists.
The reason he had striven to elevate his realm was solely to protect his sect's people.
Perhaps because of that, after the war with the Blood Cult ended, though he never neglected training and refinement, he no longer held the same desperation as before.
Living as the days flowed, his current strength sufficed to safeguard those within arm's reach and his disciples.
But would that hold true going forward?
The Blood Cult had begun moving again.
Even more cunningly twisted with malice than before, slyly hiding rats within Mount Wudang itself.
He needed to grow stronger.
To overcome the calamity that would come again.
To never lose another precious soul.
So how?
There was one answer: Taiji.
Wudang's foundation was Taiji itself; understanding Taiji would make him stronger in kind.
A circle embodying the harmony of yin and yang, where beginning and end were one, unending.
"Whoa there, I said no."
But this monstrous junior wouldn't let him draw that circle.
Even if he started, the process was interrupted, so he couldn't reach the end; unable to draw the line, he couldn't complete the circle.
No matter how he swung his sword or moved his feet, she severed it all half a breath ahead.
To his senses, it was even more so than that Sword Sovereign fellow.
Truly possessed—like something out of a ghost story, a skill befitting the eerie.
At this rate, he would be steadily pushed back until he bared his neck. Utter defeat without a sliver of hope.
To create distance, he needed to draw a circle first—but to draw a circle, he needed distance...
Truly infuriating.
"Just...! Get away from—!"
The words spat through gritted teeth were mere words, meaningless.
So-hyang still clung to Qinghe True Person like glue, blocking every attempt to trace a circle.
He needed to draw the circle, the circle—but he couldn't.
"Ah."
In that instant, a question suddenly arose.
Why must he draw a circle?
To embody Taiji.
Then why must he draw a circle to embody Taiji?
Because a circle is a form of circulation where start and end merge inseparably.
But.
Yin and yang are one. Start and end are not distinct.
He had been drawing circles to embody Taiji, but if Taiji was already embodied, was there truly need to draw the circle?
Taiji was not distinct from Wuji, the origin of the universe and all things.
The origin () was not distinct from the circle (), and the circle () not from the point ().
If start and end were not distinct, there was no need to draw a circle with the sword.
The ceaseless undulation across all sides could suffice within the mind's sword motion.
Qinghe True Person's sword began exerting attractive force anew—perhaps inferior to a perfect circle, but potent regardless.
"Oh...?"
So-hyang noticed his state drawing nearer to no-self and grinned brightly, pressing him even harder.
Hammering, tempering, drawing forth enlightenment from within.
External pressure suppressing him, inspiration bursting from inside.
Once ignited, Qinghe True Person's mind blazed ever fiercer.
Like a snowball rolling downhill, one realization sparked a chain of others.
His inner image ripened toward fruition, naturally yielding a solution born of external stimulus.
Instead of gradually accumulating flow and momentum, he needed instantaneous emission.
If start and end were one, front and back identical, what reason for pull and push to differ?
A point-Taiji drawn in an instant without swinging the sword.
Until now, he had pursued completion and perfection via circles—but with points, perhaps imperfection sufficed.
Collision and explosion over rotation and harmony.
Reverse logic over natural order.
The flow of Qinghe True Person's qi transformed into the nature of Reverse Taiji.
"...? Isn't that a demonic art—"
Taiji Insight Sword: Reverse Convergence, Dispersion.
An explosively propelled thrust hurtled toward So-hyang's face in an instant.
"—Haha!"
No chance to block as before—an extreme-speed thrust piercing sharply.
So-hyang countered in turn.
If he mobilized all his accumulated martial arts, she must summon all her realizations.
Manipulation of the body beyond perfection, infused with the subtleties of True Iron and intent, even redirecting his force via rebound principles.
What culminated was an extreme-speed thrust like gazing into a mirror.
Arrow tip met arrow tip—
A cracking sound echoed as something shattered, followed by a deafening roar.
Trickle, trickle—the sound of flowing water.
So-hyang and Qinghe True Person lay side by side in a small valley at the base of Mount Wudang.
Astonishingly, this wasn't the original valley; it was newly formed where part of the shockwave from the clash high above had struck the ground.
So-hyang's condition wasn't great.
"Ow, my back."
She had sustained no meaningful damage, but having exhausted her spirit qi down to the roots, her spirit sword was temporarily overloaded and unable to manifest qi.
The constant veil of spirit qi she wore had vanished, leaving her snow-white robes caked in dust and mud, filthy and disheveled.
In contrast, Qinghe True Person's state was far graver.
"—Hack."
The Taiji Insight Sword itself was an ultimate art that burdened the body and disrupted qi and blood; adding the radical qi operation from his momentary enlightenment only worsened it.
Moreover, his final strike had reversed Taiji into something akin to demonic arts.
His qi and blood were in utter turmoil; he coughed up blood.
"...A-Are you alright?"
"Heh heh, compared to the war, this is a mere scratch. No need for such worry."
Qinghe True Person waved her off, brushing aside So-hyang's concern with a laugh, then raised his sword as if to say this was the real issue.
Pine Pattern Ancient Sword.
Wudang Sect's divine treasure and symbol of the sect leader.
"Tsk tsk, snapped clean in half."
The storied famed sword, etched with pine motifs, had clashed with So-hyang's spirit sword and split neatly from tip to hilt.
"...Ah."
So-hyang smiled awkwardly, glancing at Qinghe True Person to gauge if he was too upset.
"Heh heh, why worry over such a thing?"
Fortunately, Qinghe True Person laughed heartily, showing no concern.
"You didn't sabotage it on purpose; it broke in fair sparring."
It wasn't something to take offense over or quibble gains and losses—nor had he truly suffered any loss.
"Exchanging one sword for the insights of two Absolute Peak masters? If anything, I'm the grateful one."
Sparring with the sect leader was akin to guided training, and she had even induced invaluable enlightenment.
His own cultivation, stagnant for decades, had advanced—a boon personally and for Wudang Sect as a whole.
"All told, what I gained far outweighs the loss, so truly, think nothing of it."
Even at full power, she had held back; there was no grudge to bear.
"Still, since you accepted my challenge and this mishap occurred, I'd like to repair it."
"Appreciated, but how? Though you smashed it, this is still a famed sword of note."
It was custom-forged two centuries ago, bought from the Golden Merchant Guild leader for a fortune plus various rights.
No swordsmith of equal caliber could repair it, and with it halved, forging anew might be better.
"I'll repair it myself."
"...Hm?"
Not through connections, but personally repairing his sword. Qinghe True Person eyed So-hyang dubiously.
"Truly...?"
No need for elaboration; the Insight Eye discerned the veracity of her words.
"Mm, the sword I use is one I made myself. Trust me and see."
To prove it, she even handed her spirit sword to Qinghe True Person.
"Urgh!?"
Beyond the astonishing weight—as if packed with hundreds of similar swords—he recognized the sword's exquisite craftsmanship.
"...Very well. This quality, I can entrust it to you. But shouldn't I compensate you instead?"
"Ehehe! Good is good; why quibble? I'll do it for free, so take it."
"Hm, then I won't refuse. Much obliged."
"Of course! I'll make it sturdier than before, so look forward to it."
For a conversation between two mud-caked figures in a wrecked valley, it was remarkably heartwarming.
And atop Mount Wudang's summit.
Wudang Sect's sect leader, Qingha True Person, was repairing the crumbling ground at his master's request.
"...What did we just witness?"
"Even just hearing it makes my head ring..."
"...That's Absolute Peak... So distant."
Behind them, on the hut's porch, three Peak Realm martial artists sat dazed, having spectated the sudden cataclysmic spar.
Farther back, in the hut's inner chamber, atop the tea table lay a single brush.
Beside a teacup still warm, a finely crafted brush rested.
A writing brush exuding faint pine scent, its very appearance purifying the mind.
Yet without warning or sound, it began emanating an ominous aura.
Having sensed the two monstrous martial artists withdraw far away, it seized the opportunity.
This was peculiar. The Blood Brush So-hyang had seen brimmed with demonic nature but wasn't a spirit-awakened great demon with ego.
It couldn't exhibit such intelligence—unless it had awakened spirit in the interim.
Regardless, the Blood Brush sluggishly extended its energy, imbuing its surroundings with power.
It infused nearby books with its blood qi to conceal its demonic essence and seeped blood from its bristles into an adjacent brush, transforming it into a sort of offshoot.
A contingency, should its main body be destroyed here.
The sticky energy slithered stealthily about the room, evading even the sect leader's qi sense—quintessential Blood Cult insidiousness.
And the two sprawled at the mountain's base watched it all blankly.
Qinghe True Person's eyes—unique blend of black and white, the Insight Eye—flashed.
Too distant for encompassing detection, So-hyang mimicked the Insight Eye, her pupils gleaming white.
"Hm, that thing was clearly just a tool without awakened intellect."
It hadn't possessed the capacity to expand corruption so rapidly at once. Plainly, its total blood qi reserves had been insufficient...
Qinghe True Person took So-hyang's mutter and posed a question.
"So, it's receiving remote commands?"
"Probably? Looks like it's being supplied blood qi from afar too—clever to evade your notice, Sect Leader."
Qinghe True Person's eyes deepened; So-hyang's eyes shimmered iridescent with spirit qi.
Seeking the faint link conveying commands and blood qi.
"Let's see how far it goes..."
The boy with disheveled white hair grinned ferociously, gaze piercing toward the summit.
Under the scrutiny of eyes rivaling Flower Realm in 'vision,' the blood-infused brush thrashed wildly, extending blood qi threads every which way in excitement.