Chapter 253. The Time of the Freezing Wind (3)
A cold wind roughly shook the collars of the two men's robes.
Thud! The Gwangryongbu slammed into the ground, sending a fierce vibration rippling outward.
Mo Yong Woo clicked his tongue anew at the overwhelming pressure radiating from the massive axe.
"I thought the same when I saw it before, but wielding and swinging a weapon like that... truly impressive."
"Once you get used to it, nothing beats it."
"Wasn't it over eighty geun in weight?"
"That's right."
"Like grabbing a man and swinging him around."
Yeon Hojeong's expression, which had been smiling at Mo Yong Woo, turned impassive in an instant.
Whoooosh.
A heavy gust pushed back the biting winter wind.
'There it is.'
Mo Yong Woo sensed the quality of the wind shift in that single moment. It was sharp yet weighty—a bold wind laced with the glint of a beast's fangs.
"The martial art you've mastered—is it called Sasinmu?"
"Yeah."
"I've never heard of it."
"There are plenty of ancient supreme arts that faded into obscurity without ever gaining fame."
"Fair enough."
Shh.
Mo Yong Woo lowered his stance. It wasn't much—just a slight bend at the waist and his left foot pulled back a single pace.
Flash!
Yeon Hojeong's eyes gleamed.
'He's changed.'
With the shift in posture came a transformation in aura. Standing still, he had exuded the refined air of a lofty scholar, but the moment he crouched and placed his hand on his sword hilt, it hardened into something as unyielding and cold as forged steel.
The change was so seamless that anyone not paying close attention might have missed it entirely.
'He's different from me in every way.'
Yeon Hojeong's shifts were abrupt, almost flashy—like his weapons and his very nature. His Sasinmu overwhelmed foes with swift, ferocious momentum even before the fight truly began, giving it a wild edge at first glance.
Mo Yong Woo was the opposite. Serene and fluid, yet no less fierce when it counted.
'Moyong Gun's martial arts aren't the family heirloom. Even in my past life, and when he showed them while faking my death this time, they weren't the Moyong clan's publicly known arts.'
Martial arts that wielded thunder qi were rare gems scattered across the entire martial world. That was what Moyong Gun practiced—a destructive thunder qi unleashed in lightning-fast, devastating strikes.
'Which means this is my chance to clash with the true orthodox arts of the Moyong clan.'
The corner of Yeon Hojeong's mouth curved upward.
'This'll be fun.'
His heart pounded even without drawing forth his Vermilion Bird Qi. A bout with the Moyong clan's heirloom arts—and a family head's secret transmission, no less.
"Well then."
Yeon Hojeong stepped forward with his left foot.
"Shall we begin?"
"Whenever you're ready."
Crack!
No sooner had the words left his mouth than Yeon Hojeong charged.
Mo Yong Woo's eyes flickered.
'Fast! And...'
Threatening. He lunged like a predator spotting prey, his immense speed belying an utterly impassive expression. His eyes gleamed with the crystalline clarity of a beast's gaze, sending chills racing across Mo Yong Woo's skin.
And just like that, Yeon Hojeong closed to within a jang of his foe.
'He's here!'
Flash!
A drawn-sword assault at divine speed, powered by the mighty inner energy of the Geon Gon Pal Gyeok Simbeop. The hefty Tang Ma Greatsword cleaved the air faster than any swift blade.
That was when it happened.
Boom!
An explosive shockwave erupted from beneath Yeon Hojeong's feet as he hurtled forward.
'Evasion?!'
Shrieeek!
The drawn strike sliced empty air. Yeon Hojeong, having unleashed the shockwave with a heavy stomp, had already evaded the sword and leaped skyward.
It defied all convention from the very first exchange. In a casual spar, one held back, but here he'd charged with full force, dodged a head-on clash, and taken to the skies.
'And moreover.'
Mo Yong Woo looked up.
'It's not the axe!'
Yeon Hojeong thrust out his left palm.
Wham!
Mo Yong Woo sank even lower into his stance.
'Terrifying palm strike!'
The descending palm force carried a weight that was no joke. Though executed in a split second, blocking it had taken every ounce of strength to avoid shattered bones.
Feint from the start, followed by a palm instead of the axe. Only then did Mo Yong Woo grasp the nature of this fight.
This wasn't a mere spar—it was a real battle mimicking life-or-death combat.
Whish-whish-whack!
Yeon Hojeong seamlessly flipped behind Mo Yong Woo. Astonishingly, in that brief transition, he unleashed three kicks targeting vital points with godlike precision, even as Mo Yong Woo's stance crumbled.
Bam-bam-boom!
Mo Yong Woo's hand techniques were no slouch either. He deflected all three intricate kicks.
Recognizing the fight's true nature sharpened his reactions. Yeon Hojeong wasn't just any fighter, and neither was Mo Yong Woo.
Thud!
Ruuuumble!
The instant his feet hit the ground, Yeon Hojeong surged forward with elastic footwork.
Flash!
His body and weapon hadn't even closed in, yet Mo Yong Woo felt his collarbone to his flank threatening to split open.
A ferocious beast's murderous intent.
Mo Yong Woo swung the Tang Ma Greatsword.
Craaaang!
The axe's shaft clashed with the greatsword, unleashing a deafening roar that pierced the ears.
'Heavy!'
The impact from that single clash was immense. He'd nearly lost his grip on the sword. A fraction less inner energy, and his tiger's mouth would have torn.
'Not just the axe's weight! Yeon-je's power itself is on another level!'
In that moment, Yeon Hojeong unleashed a storm of ferocious blows.
Craaaack-clang!
Mo Yong Woo retreated repeatedly, weaving a sword veil. The delicate, fluid barrier shattered the instant the axe's blade touched it, scattering like sparks.
Thick veins bulged on Mo Yong Woo's forehead.
'Damn!'
Grrr rumble!
The axe blade upturned the earth, sweeping from low to high. No time to spectate leisurely—this axe's movements entered the realm of the incomprehensible. How much raw power and profound inner energy did it take to wield an eighty-geun weapon like a swift sword?
Mo Yong Woo brought his blade down with full force.
Craaaaaang!
'Urk!'
His body lifted into the air.
'Fearsome!'
No matter how heavy the weapon, this was an upward strike met with a full-power downward slash—yet he'd been overpowered, his entire body airborne.
A monstrous advance born of footwork and raw might.
Flash!
Finally, Mo Yong Woo saw it.
Flash! Flash!
A pure white wind enveloped Yeon Hojeong's body, his eyes flashing brilliant yellow like a true tiger's.
Thud! Thud! Boom!
White Tiger Overlord's three paces forward. Each step shook heaven and earth, every footfall a stomping shockwave in itself. Even airborne, the impacts jolted Mo Yong Woo's core.
Roooaaar!
A faint tiger's roar echoed. The White Tiger Art's Tiger King Nine Thunder Strikes bared its savage maw.
Craaaack-clang! Boom!
"Urgh!"
Mo Yong Woo finally let out a groan.
'No way!'
All the prior attacks had been mere warm-ups? Blocking a single strike of the Tiger King Nine Thunder Strikes sent shocks through his joints like they might dislocate. It was a ferocious art where even defending was a loss.
One wrong block, and internal injuries would follow instantly.
'But.'
Mo Yong Woo, pushed back far, exhaled deeply.
Whoooosh.
A profound aura of azure true energy emanated from the Tang Ma Greatsword.
In that precious moment to regulate his breathing, he finally drew forth the Moyong clan's patriarchal sword art: Geon Gon Baek Pal Geom Hae.
Flash!
Yeon Hojeong's eyes deepened.
Three jang closed by White Tiger Overlord's pace—yet Mo Yong Woo closed faster.
Their weapons collided head-on.
Craaaack-clang! Rumble!
The shockwave from axe and sword upheaved the soil and scarred nearby trees.
Clang! Craaang! Craaaang!
Mo Yong Woo gritted his teeth. With the opening form of Geon Gon Baek Pal Geom Hae, The manifestation of willow-like energy., he neutralized the Gwangryongbu's might.
The axe's slash seemed to weaken—only for this fearsome brother to abandon combos for a one-strike kill.
Booom!
An unbelievably heavy blow. A simple overhead chop, yet impossibly hard to evade. Without the pinnacle Geon Gon inner energy, the peerless Tang Ma Greatsword forged by a master smith, and Mo Yong Woo's rigorously tempered body, it would have cleaved him in two.
And that wasn't all.
Craaang! Boom! Wham!
Wielding grand, threatening one-strike-kill techniques, he seamlessly shifted patterns with subtle variations. Defense was grueling enough, but pinpointing what to defend against amid the chaos was maddening.
A battle-hardened veteran would tip his hat to such otherworldly attacks.
Had he fully internalized the forms? Amid the Tiger King Nine Thunder Strikes, he wove in palms and kicks to disrupt the senses, then crushed with destructive axe blows at critical junctures, eroding his foe's strength.
'Incredible.'
Mo Yong Woo kept yielding ground. No room for counterattack, barely holding defense.
Yeon Hojeong's arts, resolved for true victory, were that formidable.
'I wanted to see Geon Gon Mu Hae, but he won't even give me breathing room.'
No injustice here—only admiration for Yeon Hojeong's battlecraft.
'A genius of combat... and he targets my weaknesses with exquisite precision every instant. Can't even catch my breath.'
Craaaack-clang!
The pitch-black shaft and dragon-shaped blade danced through the air.
Cumulative shocks numbed his limbs. No internal wounds by fortune's grace, but enough trauma to lay him up for a full day.
Mo Yong Woo closed his eyes.
Flash!
Booom!
The Gwangryongbu embedded half a chi from his left foot.
"...Hmm."
Yeon Hojeong's eyes narrowed.
"Eyes closed, stance relaxed... What? Giving up?"
Mo Yong Woo opened his eyes and shook his head.
"Give up? This is a total not-counting defeat."
"Figured you'd counter somehow."
"Yeon-je. You pressed without mercy, no room even for defense—and you say that?"
"Thought you'd pull out some brilliant move if I really pushed."
"...Sorry to disappoint."
"No such thing. Not disappointed. Just realized even you are human, brother."
"Huh?"
Crack!
Yanking the Gwangryongbu from the earth, Yeon Hojeong stroked his chin.
"You're definitely strong. Your attacks' weight were superior, of course, but in momentary sharpness, you match me."
"Doesn't sound like praise."
"Your initial approach speed was top-notch too. Honestly, that moment surprised me."
"For real?"
"Dead serious. That's why it's a shame."
"...?"
Yeon Hojeong smirked.
"You've reached Mujongjibyeok, but you haven't fully consolidated your arts yet. That's why, with your talents, you're pushed so one-sidedly."
Mo Yong Woo's eyes wavered.
Yeon Hojeong turned away.
"Was gonna drink more, but looks like you need some alone time, brother. Catch you later when you're free."
"W-wait, Yeon-je!"
"Just remember this: when the butterfly sheds its cocoon and spreads its wings, when the beast seizes its prey and crushes its throat—that's the most dangerous moment."
"...!"
"Fail to properly consolidate what you have, and you could rot for years at the entry to Mujongjibyeok."
Strolling away casually, Yeon Hojeong paused as if struck by a thought.
"Brother."
"...Speak."
"Moyong Gun will return soon."
"...!"
"Make sure you check what he brings back with him."