The Life-Chasing Sword
The next morning, the Heavenly Fragrance Fairy came to Ouyang Qiangang's residence in person. Her eyes were deeply sunken, like those of someone who had not slept a wink all night.
Sensing that something was off, Ouyang Qiangang spoke first.
"It seems the favor you mentioned has taken on a definite shape, Pavilion Mistress."
"As perceptive as ever, Young Master."
The Heavenly Fragrance Fairy gave a wry smile and nodded before continuing. "That's right. It's been settled."
"And this favor of yours would be…?"
"It is… a request to save someone."
Ouyang Qiangang met her eyes squarely. "Save whom — and from whom?"
"The man who needs saving is a powerless scholar who has spent his life chronicling the history of the gangho. His epithet is Ink Brush; his name, So Jin-woo. And the one hunting him is…"
Her voice dropped lower still.
"Wei Liang, the Life-Chasing Sword — a master counted among the very best of the Azure Heaven Murim Alliance's Law Enforcement Hall."
At her words, the air in the room turned heavy in an instant, and Ouyang Qiangang stiffened as well. He had no idea who the Life-Chasing Sword Wei Liang was, but the Azure Heaven Murim Alliance was a colossal power — one of the Five Hegemons of the world, spoken of alongside the Demonic Cult of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains as one of the two supreme pillars of the age. Anyone counted a master within its Law Enforcement Hall was no ordinary martial artist; even a child could work that much out.
Ouyang Qiangang asked carefully, "The Murim Alliance, of all things… Do you truly believe this is something I can handle?"
"More than enough."
"I think you're overestimating me."
"My eye for people happens to be remarkably accurate."
Ouyang Qiangang knit his brow. "I hardly think the Pavilion Mistress lacks the power to save him herself. Why entrust this to someone whose abilities have never even been tested?"
"If I moved personally, the Murim Alliance would turn its gaze upon the Heavenly Fragrance Pavilion. That is what I wish to avoid."
"Hmm…"
"You are entirely unknown in the gangho, Young Master. Even if trouble arises, to the Azure Heaven Murim Alliance you will be nothing more than an unidentified third party."
A soft smile gathered at the corners of the Heavenly Fragrance Fairy's eyes. "This is something only you can do for me."
"It hardly seems like something only I can do."
"Of course, if I searched, I could find a martial artist stronger than you. But there is no one I can trust as I trust you."
Ouyang Qiangang fell silent for a moment. Crossing a Peak master of the Azure Heaven Murim Alliance was an enormous risk — but her intelligence network was indispensable if he was to find his primary target, and there was no time left to hunt for alternatives.
He made up his mind.
"Very well. I'll take the job. But first, I want to confirm that it doesn't violate my principles."
Relief lit the Heavenly Fragrance Fairy's eyes. "Have no fear. He is an innocent man. Tomorrow night at the third watch, go to the old Guan Di temple northwest of Nanchang. He will be waiting for you there."
She smiled radiantly and went on. "Once the matter is finished, I will erase every trace so that the Azure Heaven Murim Alliance cannot track you. You needn't worry about the aftermath."
"Understood."
Ouyang Qiangang then asked, in a tone as casual as he could manage, "If the Law Enforcement Hall of the Azure Heaven Murim Alliance is hunting him, this can hardly be a trivial matter. May I ask why this Ink Brush So Jin-woo is being pursued?"
"Of course not."
The Heavenly Fragrance Fairy let a mischievous smile play at the corners of her eyes. "For those of us who deal in information, absolute secrecy is iron law."
Two days later, at the third watch of the night. In jet-black darkness where even the moonlight was faint, a mournful wind swept through the old forest, keening like the wailing of ghosts.
Whoooooo—
In the deepest reaches of a forest long emptied of human presence, northwest of Nanchang, an old Guan Di temple — a shrine to the war god Guan Yu — stood like a phantom, its roof half caved in and its pillars rotting away.
Dressed in black and masked, Ouyang Qiangang lay hidden atop the temple's highest beam. He clicked his tongue inwardly.
'The Pavilion Mistress swore So Jin-woo would arrive first and be waiting for me… yeah, right…'
Before long, the crack of snapping branches and the sound of ragged breathing drifted in from the forest. Then a middle-aged man in scholar's robes staggered through the temple doors.
He was a wretched sight. His clothes hung in ribbons, and dark blood welled without pause from his shoulder and flank, drawing stains across the earthen floor. His steps swayed as though he might collapse at any moment, and his face had gone the gray of ash.
Ouyang Qiangang knew at a glance that this was Ink Brush So Jin-woo.
'To make it this far in that state… the man's willpower is something else.'
But there was no time for admiration. Judging by So Jin-woo's condition, his pursuers could not be far behind.
'Akasha, raise perimeter surveillance to maximum. Deploy the nanobots, and report the instant anyone approaches.'
Understood, Doctor. Deploying one hundred nanobots now to monitor all movement within a radius of fifteen jang — roughly forty-five meters. Given your current level of internal energy, Doctor, this is the maximum range I can cover.
Face contorted, So Jin-woo glanced back over his shoulder and cast a frantic look around the temple interior.
At that very moment, Ouyang Qiangang dropped soundlessly from the beam and landed before him.
"…!"
At the sight of the masked figure who had appeared without so much as a whisper of sound, despair and terror surged together across So Jin-woo's bloodless face. He thought his pursuers had finally caught up with him.
But then his expression changed. He had seen Ouyang Qiangang raise a hand and form the promised sign — the one the Heavenly Fragrance Fairy had taught him.
His eyes wavered violently. Where the fear of death had been, disbelief now bloomed.
So Jin-woo asked in a trembling voice, "Wh… who are you…?"
Ouyang Qiangang answered in an even tone. "I was sent by the Mistress of the Heavenly Fragrance Pavilion."
At those words, the last thread of tension So Jin-woo had been clinging to snapped with an almost audible pop. Relief dawned in his eyes.
"I'm… saved…"
His eyes rolled back, and he crumpled forward like a puppet with its strings cut. Ouyang Qiangang lunged and caught him in his arms a heartbeat before he struck the floor.
Then, with swift precision, he pressed the man's vital acupoints to staunch the bleeding, fed him medicine for internal injuries, and smoothed golden wound salve over his wounds. The whole process was over in the space of two blinks.
Emergency treatment complete, Ouyang Qiangang was just bending to lift So Jin-woo onto his back when—
Doctor, four figures are approaching at high speed from beyond the fifteen-jang perimeter. Estimated arrival: within two seconds.
Almost before Akasha's warning had finished ringing through his mind, four men in black martial uniforms slipped soundlessly out of the dark forest So Jin-woo had fled through.
The man at their head looked to be in his fifties, gaunt and wiry, a three-foot longsword in his hand. His gaze was keen as a razor, and a cold, merciless aura wreathed his whole body.
Without needing to ask, Ouyang Qiangang knew instinctively who he was: Wei Liang, the Life-Chasing Sword, a master of the Azure Heaven Murim Alliance's Law Enforcement Hall. The three men at Wei Liang's heels were every bit as formidable, each radiating a presence far beyond the ordinary.
The moment they stepped into the temple courtyard, the air itself seemed to freeze. The killing intent they exuded — disciplined, distilled — was of an entirely different order from the crude bloodlust of common thugs.
Words were pointless. At a curt jerk of Wei Liang's chin, his three subordinates drew their swords without a sound and charged.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—
'Akasha, maximum combat mode!'
Understood, Doctor.
The instant Akasha accelerated Ouyang Qiangang's cognitive processing, his dynamic vision sharpened to its absolute limit — and the whole world seemed to slow to a crawl.
Shielding the unconscious So Jin-woo with his own body, Ouyang Qiangang met the three-blade formation head-on. Three swords came at him from three different angles, weaving a meticulous net that sealed off every path of retreat.
Shhh-shhh-shhh-shk—!
To an ordinary martial artist, the attack would have registered as nothing more than three streaks of sword light. But in Ouyang Qiangang's eyes, not only the trajectories of the blades but even the faint distortions they carved into the air stood out in perfect clarity.
Rather than retreat, he unleashed the Nine Palaces Subtle Trace Steps and bored straight into the heart of the net.
Ssshhk—
His figure blurred like mist, and all three blades slipped past, missing the hem of his robe by a hair's breadth.
"Hah—?!"
In the very instant the black-clad men reeled at seeing their flawless joint assault pierced so effortlessly, Ouyang Qiangang shifted from the Nine Palaces Subtle Trace Steps into the Flash Spring Step, closed the distance in a heartbeat — and the Gale Chain Palms erupted from his hands.
SHWAAAAAK—
Dozens of palm shadows flew at the men with terrifying speed, as though strung together on a single thread.
True to the gale in its name, the Gale Chain Palms was a palm art of blistering, unrestrained speed. Perfected across all twelve stars, it could unleash one hundred and eight palms in a single second; having attained the tenth star, Ouyang Qiangang could strike seventy-two palms per second. A storm of strikes too fast to follow with the eyes — let alone the senses — engulfed the three men like a tempest.
PAPAPAPAPAPAK—
"Gwaaah!"
With no room even to flinch, the men took seven palms apiece square in the chest and were hurled backward, screaming. The crash sent dust billowing through the temple courtyard, blotting out the scene before slowly settling again.
It had all happened in the blink of an eye.
Seeing his fallen subordinates, Wei Liang's face hardened like stone. Their bodies were coated white, as though sheathed in a thin layer of frost.
"Khh… khh…"
Coughing up blood, the three men forced themselves upright — and realized the depth of their internal injuries. But that was not the true horror. It was the vicious cold they felt burrowing into their heart meridians like a venomous serpent!
White-faced with shock, they had no leisure even to glance at one another. They dropped to the ground in desperation and entered breath regulation. It was the last thing one should do before an enemy — but there was no other way. They trusted Wei Liang to cut the enemy down for them, and they knew that if they did not drive out this cold at once, they might end up crippled, or dead.
Wei Liang cast a brief glance over his subordinates as they sank into their trance, then turned his eyes on Ouyang Qiangang. "Who are you?"
Ouyang Qiangang answered with a shrug. "We're hardly on family-registry-checking terms, are we?"
Sensing that the man had no intention whatsoever of answering, Wei Liang's mouth twisted. "I look forward to seeing whether you can still talk like that once I've taken you."
"People call that sort of thing a pipe dream."
Lips clamped shut at the retort, Wei Liang readjusted his grip on his sword and raised his power to the tenth star. The masked man had felled all three of his subordinates in a single second. Underestimating such an opponent was unthinkable.
From the tip of Wei Liang's blade, a frost-blue sword aura — the very emblem of a swordsman who had reached the Peak — rose like a heat haze.
"Whoever you are, you die here."
He charged, sweeping his blade up in a long diagonal arc.
Shiiing—
His life-taking ultimate art — all twenty-seven forms of the Life-Chasing Sword Art — unfolded in an unbroken chain, and deep-blue sword light swallowed Ouyang Qiangang whole. It was a sword dance of death: ferocious, relentless, granting no room to evade.
'Akasha, how much time is left in maximum combat mode?'
Five minutes, Doctor.
'Plenty, then. Let's secure the data on Wei Liang's sword art first.'
Understood.
Mid-blade, Wei Liang's brow furrowed. Strangely, Ouyang Qiangang was not counterattacking — he was only evading. Pushing the Nine Palaces Subtle Trace Steps to their very limit, he slipped through the murderous web of sword shadows like a butterfly gliding through a storm, always by the narrowest of margins.
Data collection in progress… Recording complete: all trajectories of the twenty-seven forms, force distribution, and internal energy circulation patterns.
Wei Liang's heart grew heavy. He had unleashed every one of the twenty-seven forms of his Life-Chasing Sword Art and still failed to subdue his opponent. He raised his internal energy yet again and drove the technique forward with even fiercer momentum.
But this time, something was different. The desperate edge had vanished from Ouyang Qiangang's movements. Now, with the barest minimum of motion — as though walking a path already laid out before him — he evaded every one of Wei Liang's strikes with ease. When the sword angled right, he shifted half a step left; when it lunged for his waist, a slight twist of the hips let the blade slide harmlessly past.
That was impossible — unless one already knew the opponent's forms.
Cold sweat ran down Wei Liang's spine. Before long, he grasped the essence of this grotesque situation.
'Th… this bastard is reading every path of my sword art!'
His life-or-death ultimate technique — perfectly deciphered by the masked man before his eyes. For a martial artist, it was an unbearable terror, and an unbearable humiliation.
Reason abandoned him, and he roared in fury. "How do you know my Life-Chasing Sword Art!"
It was the move that lost him the duel. Fury scattered the flow of his sword, opening a hairline gap — and Ouyang Qiangang did not miss it.
Instead of answering, he unleashed the Flash Spring Step and bored into Wei Liang's open chest like a bolt of lightning. And the Explosive Thunder Flame King Fist, charged with his every ounce of power, slammed mercilessly into the unguarded torso.
KWAAANG—!
"Khh… huk!"
The overwhelming force of the Explosive Thunder Flame King Fist shattered Wei Liang's heart-protecting qi and crushed his sternum.
Whooooosh— THUD!
Wei Liang hurtled backward, vomiting blood, and moved no more.
Ouyang Qiangang let out a long breath, hoisted the unconscious So Jin-woo onto his back, and — unleashing the Heavenly Meteor Movement Art — vanished into the darkness beyond the Guan Di temple.