Chapter 41
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Clash with the Lone Beggar
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Solomon, there was a twinge of regret he couldn't quite shake.
That said, his seething rage didn't change a thing.
That cursed old geezer was still one of the Beggars' Sect's premier masters right now.
'Dokgo-gae (Lone Beggar).'
A name befitting a lifelong beggar: lone and isolated.
In a way, it suited him even better than Old Blind Eye, whose looks matched his moniker to a tee.
Dokgo-gae hadn't earned that odd name for nothing.
From his days as a snot-nosed little beggar, he'd strutted around like he was the world's sole arbiter of absolute justice, leaving him without a single friend to call him "brother" even at his advanced age.
After all, finding an orthodox sect untouched by that bastard's meddling was damn near impossible—not just the Nine Great Sects and Eight Great Clans, but pretty much everyone.
And yet, he'd survived over a full Jiazi cycle—more than sixty years—of stirring up trouble like that purely because his martial prowess was that terrifyingly profound.
'Not sure if I can take him at my current level.'
The single strike of One Flash Death he'd unleashed in that ambush just moments ago.
It was a killing blow packed with all the long-suppressed fury he'd harbored deep inside.
Unlike the one that had decapitated the Shadow Squad Leader before, this was a supreme swift sword stroke brimming with genuine intent—far beyond mere comparison.
Be it the thrusting speed or the density and size of the sword force concentrated at the tip.
It was the absolute pinnacle, the best attack he could muster at his current level.
But...
"Tch."
Regrettably, it still fell woefully short of severing that stubborn old beggar's lifeline.
Dokgo-gae was just that monstrously strong.
"What a vile bastard!"
Boom!
Crack!
Rumble...
A massive ancient tree that had somehow endured unscathed until now suddenly tilted at a forty-five-degree angle under a brutal palm strike to its base, crashing down with a thunderous roar.
'Old man, your rotten temper's as fiery as ever.'
Storming into someone else's mountain and smashing a perfectly healthy tree like that—pure thuggery.
Of course, Gwang-il had completely forgotten about the trees he'd wrecked himself just minutes earlier by hurling Dokgo-gae into them.
Even if he remembered, he'd just chalk it up to something that wouldn't have happened if the damned fool hadn't climbed Point Cang Mountain in the first place.
Click.
'This won't be easy.'
Gwang-il readjusted his grip on the sweat-slicked hilt, steadying his ragged breath to calm his shaking resolve.
How long had it been since his body thrummed like this under the weight of murderous intent?
This shiver-inducing thrill felt both achingly familiar and strangely alien. Amid it all, Gwang-il's gaze and aura sank deeper, growing colder and heavier by the second.
Along with it faded his vital presence, ever so subtly.
"Hah! What a demonic fiend...!"
Dokgo-gae's displeasure, already soured by his grudge against Point Cang, swelled further at that unorthodox sword strike and what followed.
"Even Point Cang, scraping by as one of the Nine Great Sects, has run out of luck. How dare a mere third-generation disciple pull such sleazy tricks?"
Had it been raw hostility or killing intent, he might not have griped so much.
But look!
This Gwang-il punk was right there in plain sight, yet deliberately erasing his own presence!
As if performing some grand concealment technique while standing tall.
'He's no assassin, so why resort to such underhanded filth!'
He'd come here already suspicious of Point Cang's bizarre behavior—sealing their gates for months now.
Especially with one of the Western Outer Evil Palaces, the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace, having infiltrated all the way to the northwest frontiers of Yunnan!
And they had the gall to dump the cleanup on the Beggars' Sect's branch divisions while holing up in their mountain?
"Suspicious as hell. Your Point Cang's definitely plotting something nefarious."
True to form his entire life, Dokgo-gae jumped to his own conclusions without fail.
"First, I'll beat some manners into you, then we'll talk."
Ptoo! Ptoo!
Dokgo-gae spat thick globs of phlegm into his palms and shook them off with a flourish before charging forward through the brush without hesitation.
"Come on, show me that fancy swordplay again. This time, I won't hold back—I'll shatter that toothpick of yours to bits."
His goblin-fire-like azure eyes blazed fiercely, already scanning the surroundings for any trace of the vanished Gwang-il.
His senses, dense as a spider's web, stretched out to blanket a thirty-zhang radius in a perfect circle.
True to his status as one of the Beggars' Sect's elite, he scoured the area with terrifying inner power befitting his age.
"...What a slippery devil."
Of course, he still hadn't sniffed out so much as a single hair from his actual target.
"Even sneakier than those Shadow Squad assassins. How can we call someone like you a disciple of an upright orthodox sect?"
For Dokgo-gae, who'd always insisted on honorable, head-on duels, this was infuriating.
"Fine. If that's how you wanna play, this old beggar has a few tricks too."
But as a seasoned veteran of the jianghu, he quickly adapted to the situation.
And soon...
"Haaah!"
Boom boom boom boom boom!
Crack!
Rumble rumble rumble!
Rooooar!
Palm strikes blasted indiscriminately in all directions.
In the wake of those savage blows, one lush corner of Point Cang Peak rapidly transformed into a vast clearing.
'That crazy old bastard?!'
Gwang-il, who had been suppressing his presence and biding his time for an opening, could only seethe at the destruction.
Luckily, his position remained undetected, but this was practically his own backyard—he couldn't just stand by and watch the wanton devastation.
'You really wanna go all the way, huh?'
At his current growth rate, he could kill the old man without much trouble in a couple years anyway.
Still, right now, he had no choice but to step up, even if it meant taking some losses.
"Even now! You won't come out?!"
Boom boom boom boom!
Rumble rumble rumble!
BOOM!
Roooar!
'Damn it all!'
At this rate, half of Point Cang Peak—where the sect was based—would collapse entirely!
Could he really stand there optimizing for minimal damage and perfect opportunity while letting it happen?
"..."
Using the chaos of explosions and dust clouds as cover, Gwang-il gradually closed the distance.
'No need to go for Sun-Piercing Sword.'
Killing Dokgo-gae here and now was impossible anyway.
It wasn't about excuses between major sects; their skills were evenly matched at present.
Plus, his compatibility with this bullheaded brute was abysmal.
The guy had shunned the Beggars' Sect's famed staff arts to master only the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms his whole life.
Unless he pierced the throat or heart in one shot, instant death with a single sword strike was off the table.
Not at his current peak level, at least.
'But that doesn't mean I have no options.'
He had a trump card to exploit the blind spot of this stubborn fool who'd never weathered a chaotic great war.
Besides, all this racket would've already drawn his junior brothers from their training inside the sect gates.
He needed to neutralize the old man before they got hurt.
Having stealthily circled to Dokgo-gae's right rear...
At the three-zhang limit of concealment, Point Cang Sword finally erupted in ashen brilliance once more.
"There you are!"
Normally, he'd compress the sword force into a ring-like blade to minimize the visible glow.
But against this brute who bulldozed with raw power, he'd had to summon every ounce of inner energy he could muster.
BOOM!
"Kuh!"
"You bastard!"
A deep azure palm force met the ashen lightning of One Flash Death.
The resulting explosion was far shorter than Dokgo-gae's landscape-leveling blasts earlier.
But it rang in the ears with far greater ferocity.
'Again!'
The first sword blocked since his regression.
Yet Gwang-il didn't falter, thrusting the exact same strike with the same resolve.
Having his killing swift sword parried? He'd experienced it countless times in his past life.
What mattered was unleashing identical strikes without pause or deviation until the foe dropped dead.
That was the fate and destiny of a swift sword specialist honed to perfection.
Screeeee!
"Not a chance!"
Roooar!
Roooar!
But Dokgo-gae wasn't about to let a hole get punched through him.
He was skilled enough to react to this horrifying swift sword and even counter it.
Thus, he unleashed Twin Dragons Fetch Water without hesitation: left palm clashing the incoming blade while the right targeted Gwang-il's lower abdomen in retaliation.
'Now what, punk! What can your precious Point Cang swift sword do in this bind?!'
Certain of victory, Dokgo-gae's mind eased with leisure.
This was precisely the fatal flaw keeping Point Cang at the bottom of the Nine Great Sects.
Their dazzling swift swords were undeniably threatening.
But so what?
Against a master who could clash head-on, they shattered helplessly.
'Not even Sect Leader Gwan-hae or that smug Gwan-ho could stand against this old beggar.'
And here a third-generation nobody with decent talent was rampaging like a thunder god.
'I'll beat the nonsense out of him!'
He planned to grill him harshly on that ghostly stealth technique from earlier and this non-Sun-Piercing swift sword now.
Interfering in another sect's arts was a jianghu taboo, sure.
'But a so-called orthodox disciple?!'
Spouting such blatantly evil path techniques—how could a jianghu elder ignore it?
True to form, Dokgo-gae decided everything on his own stubborn judgment.
But he overlooked one crucial fact.
Splat!
"Gahk?!"
The one he faced wasn't some green rookie with talent—he was a battle-hardened veteran who'd clawed his way through experiences harsher than any in the current era.
"H-How...!"
"Stubbornly stupid as ever."
Slash!
Faster than the Point Cang Sword lancing out like a beam from his right hand, his sharply extended left fist thrust covertly.
Slipping under the rigidly extended twin palms, it stabbed upward into the old enemy's flank, promptly carving a fist-sized hole there.