The Price of Greed (4)
Sword Immortal Tak Mu-ja. One of the Immortal Emperors and Kings among the Thirteen Seats of Heavenly Might, he stood at the pinnacle of Wudang Sect's martial arts in his generation—an invincible master. It was meaningless to debate who held the edge among the Immortal Emperors and Kings in their clashes, but at least in terms of fame, the One God and Two Immortals had risen earlier than the Three Emperors and Four Kings by several years. Thus, the world acclaimed them as closest to the title of supreme under heaven, out of respect rather than pure skill. It was an evaluation born of age and renown.
The Sword Immortal was one of those Two Immortals and the strongest successor to the Taoist sword lineage. And his disciple now stood before Yeon Hojeong.
'Ok Cheong, disciple of the Sword Immortal Tak Mu.'
Yeon Hojeong's eyes gleamed fiercely.
'Yeah, I've heard that name before.'
It was said that when Tak Mu-ja, hailed as the greatest martial prodigy since the sect founder Sam Feng Jin-in, first laid eyes on Ok Cheong, he praised the boy as innately gifted with the talents of a Martial God. The rumor spread like wildfire across the Central Plains. For a pinnacle expert like Tak Mu-ja to take a disciple was earth-shaking enough, but to call that disciple's talent comparable to a Martial God's? It was bound to stir a frenzy.
'But...'
Yeon Hojeong remembered the Taoist name Ok Cheong.
'Ok Cheong died.'
Back when Yeon Hojeong had made his name as the Black Dark Emperor. Before the Saneumgyo fully invaded the Central Plains, they had hunted down and eliminated one formidable master after another. Ok Cheong was one of them.
And it was known that when Ok Cheong fell to the Saneumgyo's shadowy assassin, he had already reached the level of an Immortal Emperor or King.
'He died back then. Never got to see his face, and now here he is in this era.'
Curiosity flickered across Yeon Hojeong's face.
"Ok Cheong... I've heard a lot about you."
Ok Cheong's brow twitched. Heard a lot about me? From a stranger, and with such an insolent tone.
But Ok Cheong paid no mind to the man's speech. What mattered was sparring with a master who could provide the breakthrough he needed against his wall.
"Are you Yeon Ho-jang?"
A mashup of his nickname Wall Mountain Tyrant and his name, Yeon Hojeong.
Yeon Hojeong grumbled.
"Don't butcher someone else's name like that. I'm Yeon Hojeong."
"I know it's rude. Still, I'll beg your pardon and make my request."
Smoothly, Ok Cheong dropped to his knees right there. His posture carried a solemn dignity.
"Please spar with me."
Yeon Hojeong glanced at Muk Bi. She shuddered and turned away. Clearly fed up with Yeon Hojeong's knack for attracting trouble.
Yeon Hojeong smacked his lips.
"I'm training right now. Sorry, come back later."
"Then I'll wait here until your training ends."
Stubborn as a dog.
"Snow's dumping down like crazy, and you'll wait?"
"Yes."
"Your hair'll freeze into icicles."
"......"
"Jeez."
Yeon Hojeong asked with a look of utter incomprehension.
"Why go out of your way to spar with me?"
Ok Cheong's mouth opened naturally.
"I've heard the Wall Mountain Tyrant's martial arts burn like wildfire—fierce and relentless, leaving no room for counterattack. A combative style."
"......Hmm."
"They say you're a master of an unconventional martial path focused on offense, yet your shifts between attack and defense flow as naturally as water. A practical fighter who's forged your own school."
"What a cringeworthy rumor."
"I thought you were exactly the opponent I need right now."
Ok Cheong pressed his forehead to the snow-covered ground.
"Please, grant me your guidance."
Yeon Hojeong looked at Muk Bi. Watch and learn, kid. Show that much sincerity to Father later.
"No helping it, then."
Ok Cheong lifted his head. Vitality slowly returned to his eyes, filled with emptiness moments before.
Whoosh.
Yeon Hojeong, Gwang Yong Bu slung over his shoulder, nodded.
"Let's have at it."
"Thank you. Truly, thank you. I'll never forget this favor."
"Favor? You might win, who knows."
Shing.
Ok Cheong drew his sword. The famed Pine Pattern Ancient Sword of Wudang—a standard Taoist iron sword with a slightly rounded tip and a somewhat blunt edge.
Yeon Hojeong watched him steadily. Ok Cheong drew a deep breath and slowly lowered into stance.
Woooong.
A blue aura cloaked the Pine Pattern Ancient Sword. In that instant, Muk Bi felt a chill.
'Sharp.'
The blade was undoubtedly blunt, yet cloaked in that pure energy, it radiated a terrifying edge.
It meant Ok Cheong's sword was honed to razor sharpness.
It didn't resemble Wudang's immortal-path martial arts. And that sharpness was real—one wrong move, and it'd slice in the blink of an eye.
As Muk Bi watched Yeon Hojeong with worry—
"Hm......"
Yeon Hojeong scratched his cheek.
"Can we start now?"
"Pardon?"
Ok Cheong blinked like a fool.
Yeon Hojeong smacked his lips.
"Fine, then. Here I come."
Flash!
'Gah!'
Ok Cheong recoiled in shock. Yeon Hojeong, who had been five jang away, was now within one jang.
Incredible speed.
Instinctively, Ok Cheong unleashed Wudang's signature sword art, Taeguk Hyegeom.
At the same time, Yeon Hojeong's Gwang Yong Bu moved like lightning.
Craaaack!
The upward strike snapped the Pine Pattern Ancient Sword.
Thwack!
"Gaaack!"
The whirlwind Yeon Family Fist, One Revolution Blue Wave strike, sent Ok Cheong's eyes rolling back.
Clutching his gut and trembling, Ok Cheong collapsed. Before losing consciousness, Yeon Hojeong's voice faded into his ears.
"What the hell, this idiot? Fight starts and he goes limp like a ragdoll... Is all Wudang martial arts like this...? Now I get why he croaked......"
"Hah!"
Ok Cheong jolted awake.
"Huff! Huff! Ugh."
He clutched his stomach without thinking. Dull pain throbbed from his abdomen—enough to bring tears to his eyes.
"Nngh."
Ok Cheong circulated his Honyeon Jin-gyeol.
Woooong.
Mixed Origin Qi rose from his dantian, easing the agony in his gut. Now it was bearable.
Ok Cheong looked around.
'Where am I?'
A room. Spacious, but sparsely furnished.
Then, the last memory before blacking out hit him.
"Gah! Wall Mountain Tyrant!"
Yes. He had challenged the Wall Mountain Tyrant Yeon Hojeong to a spar and got knocked out in just two exchanges.
'Two exchanges... Me, taken down in two exchanges...?'
Ok Cheong couldn't believe it. His fists clenched, trembling violently.
Lately, heart demons had plagued him, stalling his progress. But his martial foundation, built from childhood, was etched into his bones. He could subdue most masters in three sword strikes—yet he couldn't last two exchanges?
'This can't stand. I have to face him again.'
Then—
Craaack! Snap!
"Keurk!"
A bizarre groan and the thud of a body hitting the snow.
Ok Cheong turned to the window. On the second floor, he looked down to see a tall youth with a flashy axe on his shoulder glaring at someone.
"Damn it all. How many times is this now? Just stop showing up already, you bastards."
His voice dripped with endless irritation.
In that moment, Ok Cheong's mind cleared.
'Yeon Hojeong!'
Thud!
Ok Cheong leaped out the window and landed.
Yeon Hojeong turned to him. Ok Cheong flinched as he opened his mouth.
Yeon Hojeong's face was flushed red like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
"What now?"
"......"
"If you're up, get back to your room."
The atmosphere made it hard to speak.
But Ok Cheong couldn't back down.
"My apologies. This poor Taoist has troubled Wall Mountain's Tyrant without cause. Truly, a martial prowess to astonish the world."
Yeon Hojeong scowled. His words sounded like he'd leave any second.
He suppressed his rising anger.
"You're still a long way off. That's why you train harder, right?"
"Indeed."
"Anyway, head back now. Your sword's on the table, go get i—"
"Forgive me, but... could I ask for one more bout?"
"......"
"I beg you. I can't leave like this."
"Take your stance."
"......Hm?"
Looking up at Yeon Hojeong, Ok Cheong felt his legs weaken.
Yeon Hojeong's eyes blazed with murderous intent.
"Stance, Taoist."
"Eh? Ah, yes."
Ok Cheong awkwardly assumed the starting form of Wudang's Seven Star Fist.
"......Jeez."
Boom!
Piled snow erupted three stories high. Fortunately, Ok Cheong's body only flew two stories before crashing down. Miraculously, no fractures.
As consciousness faded, Yeon Hojeong's voice reached him again.
"Next time, I'll shatter your damn legs. Muk Bi! Drag this Joint Faction punk away too... Ah, these crazy bastards are back again... Die, you son of a—!"
"Hah!"
Ok Cheong's eyes snapped open again.
"Huff! Huff! Cough! Cough cough!"
Harsh coughs wracked him. His body felt utterly drained.
"Nngh!"
Struggling up, Ok Cheong touched his jaw.
'Not broken?'
The final memory resurfaced vividly. Yeon Hojeong's half-palm strike, too fast for the eye, had slammed his jaw, sending him flying into the ground.
Without his tempered body and Honyeon Jin-gyeol, bones would have shattered badly. Hell, his jaw surviving intact was a mercy—without that restraint, his head might've flown off.
Ok Cheong peered out the window.
"Already night...?"
Then, a chilling voice.
"Yeah, night."
"Gah!"
Startled, Ok Cheong whipped his head toward the voice.
There sat Yeon Hojeong, axe on his shoulder, drinking alone. A candle flickered in the table's center as he tilted his cup—an eerily ominous sight.
"Yeon... Ho-jang?"
"Told you not to mangle my name."
"......Pardon?"
"Call me Tyrant, damn it."
"Ah, yes!"
Why? Ok Cheong couldn't help but grow deferential without realizing.
Yeon Hojeong, watching him quietly, smiled bitterly.
"If you're compos mentis, get going. I need to finish this and sleep."
"Ah...!"
Only then did Ok Cheong realize he'd stolen Yeon Hojeong's bed.
He scrambled off and bowed.
"My apologies for the intrusion."
"Got it? Now scram."
"Ah... but if I may...?"
Yeon Hojeong impassively lifted Gwang Yong Bu. Ok Cheong paled.
"Gah! Not a fight! Absolutely not!"
"......?"
"......"
"Hmph."
Thud!
Yeon Hojeong set down the axe and waved dismissively.
"Fine, come back tomorrow. Crash somewhere."
"Yes, sir!"
Ok Cheong bolted from Pa Gun Pavilion faster than ever.