Schemes Met with Schemes (2)
Seo Baek smirked upon seeing Ak Gwanbi.
“Perfect timing.”
“What’s that mean? You been waiting for me?”
“Not exactly.”
His faint smile vanished in an instant, replaced by his signature cold impassivity.
“My body’s been itching so bad I couldn’t hold out any longer.”
Smoothly, Seo Baek reached back and drew the sword from his back.
Ak Gwanbi grinned at the sight.
“They say a day-old pup fears nothing.”
“If it’s just a day-old pup, it might lack skill, but shouldn’t it at least have no fear?”
“No fear makes it hard to keep your neck, kid.”
“You only pick the truths. Judging by your style, you must be from the Shandong Yue Family.”
“Kid’s got sharp eyes, huh.”
“The way you play that three-inch tongue of yours—truly, the Yue Family Tongue Technique lives up to the hype.”
“……!”
Ak Gwanbi’s face twisted like a crumpled sheet of paper.
The Shandong Yue Family was renowned for generations for its domineering spear arts.
The Yue Family Spear Technique stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Shaolin Staff Technique as one of the two great polearm styles of the Central Plains martial world.
Shaolin used staffs because they forbade killing. Add a blade, and it became a spear—which was why Shaolin and the Yue Family were hailed as the twin peaks of polearm mastery.
But Seo Baek had swapped “spear” for “tongue,” dubbing it the Yue Family Tongue Technique. It was mockery pure and simple, insulting both Ak Gwanbi and his clan.
Insulting a man’s family made them blood enemies.
Ak Gwanbi knew it full well.
He’d been underestimating Seo Baek at first, but now he scanned him up and down with fresh scrutiny.
He looks not even twenty. Solid frame… but what the hell is that ridiculously huge sword?
In the martial world, they said longer spears were better, heavier daos were better. Length maximized a spear’s reach advantage; weight amplified a dao’s destructive power.
Swords were different.
Their length and form varied wildly by wielder.
But even so, Seo Baek’s blade looked excessively large and long.
“Kid, is that a sword?”
“Yes. Your eyes must be dim.”
“Melt that hunk of metal down, and you could forge a few proper swords. Or hell, make a big dao out of it.”
“A true divine sword shines only in a master’s eyes. Melting it down for a dao? Even a stray dog would laugh.”
“…….”
Every retort from Seo Baek landed without mercy, leaving Ak Gwanbi silent.
Anyone can see he’s a rat in a trap. What’s he got to be so cocky about?
In truth, Ak Gwanbi despised talkers—types like Namgung Jin.
He’d bantered with Seo Baek out of curiosity, since the infiltrator turned out to be a mere boy.
But losing the war of words soured his mood.
“Why’s a little brat like you headed to Shaolin?”
“Why? To stop the revenant outbreak and save the Central Plains.”
“…….”
“Guys like you don’t care if the world ends, as long as you get yours. But not all martial artists are like that.”
“You little shit……”
“The Five Families Alliance committed a grave sin by building a fortress here to defy the Murim Alliance. Now, I’ll deliver judgment.”
“Judgment? Hilarious, kid!”
Ak Gwanbi drew his twin spears from his back.
No more words needed.
He gripped them in both hands and slotted the bladeless ends together. The two spears fused into one long spear.
So that’s how you use it.
It had looked short for a man Ak Gwanbi’s height—eight feet tall—but now it made sense: a two-piece long spear.
Seo Baek’s first clash with a true master since venturing into the jianghu.
His prior foes had been two or three tiers below him. The trickiest had been Tang Clan’s Dang Hong and Jegal Clan head Jegal Myeongjae.
Dang Hong’s twelve flying daggers were unique.
But Seo Baek had deflected them with his broad blade, bypassed her dagger net, and severed her throat.
Jegal Myeongjae was tougher.
But Seo Baek’s edge came from the man’s inability to use Shika Heart Method—plus, as a revenant, Jegal had gained monstrous strength through sorcery.
Those fights were anomalies.
Ak Gwanbi, though, hailed from one of the Five Great Clans: the Shandong Yue Family. Facing an upright sect’s elite was new for Seo Baek.
He recalled his master’s teachings.
—What’s the spear art’s strength?
—Length. I can strike before their weapon reaches me.
—And its weakness?
—Length again. Close in tight with fists or golden bell strikes, and the long spear’s useless for attack or defense.
Ak Gwanbi leveled the long spear horizontally at Seo Baek.
In an instant, it shrank to a single point.
Seo Baek tilted his head or shifted his stance to track it, but the spear remained a dot.
Ak Gwanbi had his movements read.
When the spear became a point, not a line, escape was impossible. You couldn’t tell if it thrust or withdrew.
—A spear as a point is most dangerous.
—How to counter?
—Don’t track the tip with your eyes. The spear’s faster.
Whoosh.
In the instant of the air-splitting sound, Seo Baek rolled across the floor, dodging the tip. It grazed his robe’s side, unraveling the hem.
—No sound either. Dodge by ear, and you’re too late.
—Then?
—Feel the foe’s body. Thrusting requires footwork, torso twist. Even rapid stabs like quicksword need arm movement.
Wrist, arm—especially shoulder.
Sensing the opponent’s body motion was the only way to survive Yue Family Spear Technique.
Shh-shh-shh. Ak Gwanbi unleashed three thrusts as one.
But Seo Baek twisted away with footwork, untouched this time.
In the darkness, Ak Gwanbi’s spear strikes.
Every finger twitch, every hair’s sway, every breath’s air current—he felt it all.
Then, Ak Gwanbi’s torso subtly rotated, elbow pulling back.
Now.
Seo Baek angled his sword and charged forward.
He’d dodged sideways before; now, straight at him.
Ak Gwanbi, who’d dominated by making his spear a point, widened his eyes as Seo Baek became the point instead.
Footwork like gliding over a frozen lake.
Dust on the floor undisturbed by his steps.
A boy not yet twenty executing lightness skill mastery…….
Ak Gwanbi shook off his shock in a heartbeat.
Representative master of the current Shandong Yue Family.
Recognizing the boy’s lightness skill was no joke, he now saw him as a true expert, not some green kid.
Not bad, kid. But that’s as far as you go.
Ak Gwanbi retracted his extended arm.
Another explosion of shoulder and arm muscles, and nine rapid thrusts would rain down in a blink.
A variation he’d developed from Yue Family Spear Technique:
Ak Gwanbi's self-developed technique, fusing Yue Family Spear arts.
Shh-shh-shh-shh-shh-shh-shh-shh-shh.
Nine spear strikes pierced Seo Baek’s body like a hedgehog…….
Or so Ak Gwanbi’s illusion made him think.
Seo Baek had vanished from his sight in that instant.
Dodged?
Ak Gwanbi faltered. The kid’s lightness skill was advanced, but this level?
Sure enough, through the unfinished nine strikes, Seo Baek’s form flashed closer like lightning.
Like piercing rain unscathed.
But Ak Gwanbi regained his composure.
Superior lightness skill elevated martial prowess several tiers. But lightness alone couldn’t fell a foe.
You had to land the fist or sword.
To Ak Gwanbi, Seo Baek lacked that.
That greatsword! Choosing a monster you can barely lift? Amateur trash wield showpieces like that.
Shh-shh-shh-shh.
Seo Baek’s sword moved slowly horizontal. To Ak Gwanbi’s eyes, anyway—the actual speed was surely lightning-quick.
The motion matched his expectation.
Horizontal slash. Sword as dao.
Swinging such a heavy greatsword proved Seo Baek’s strength was no joke.
But they fought in a warehouse loft.
Even a massive warehouse had a loft: thick pillars everywhere, thrusting vertically.
A plain horizontal swing here? The blade would lodge uselessly in a pillar.
Ak Gwanbi smirked cruelly. Decent lightness and external arts, but a fool with terrain. Fighting without considering surroundings was third-rate drivel.
He retracted his arm for a second Lightning Instant Kill.
Your folly seals your doom.
Suddenly, a crack rang in his ears.
The sound of an axe splitting logs in one stroke.
“……?”
Seo Baek’s sword cleaving a pillar thick as a man’s waist.
Two more pillars lay in the blade’s path amid the forest of supports. Yet it sliced through them seamlessly, advancing.
As Ak Gwanbi reeled from monstrous strength he’d never witnessed, a strange sound hit his ears.
Seo Baek’s sword shattering his left-side ribs entirely.
Song Hyeon and Wang Yi Sam, clad in Pearl Eon Family warriors’ garb.
Their scheme unraveled swiftly.
Paeng Jagol, sensing something off, had hidden in the shadows and nabbed them.
Paeng Jagol grinned viciously.
“How the hell did you hide this long with such a sloppy ploy? Heh heh heh.”
“Nothing special. Your eyes were just too dim to spot us.”
Song Hyeon glanced around subtly. No other warriors besides Paeng Jagol.
No immediate encirclement.
Then…….
“The fire flared high, but you doused it quick. Solid firefighting prep, huh?”
“Mountainside—fire spreads fast, big trouble.”
“Or maybe the fortress has something flammable stashed?”
“…….”
Paeng Jagol, so smug before, clammed up.
He didn’t need to answer; Song Hyeon guessed his thoughts. He’d baited the questions deliberately to probe fortress intel via Paeng Jagol.
Seo Baek won’t back down easy.
“Wang Yi Sam, go help Seo Baek.”
“Me alone? Just me?”
Wang Yi Sam balked, uncomprehending.
“I’ll handle this one and catch up.”
“But he looks like a real expert……”
“Your presence or absence changes nothing. Go, quick.”
“…….”
Song Hyeon’s icy glare made Wang Yi Sam swallow hard and bolt.
“A-alright, I’m off!”
Wang Yi Sam obeyed masters without question.
Song Hyeon knew that trait, so he’d pressed hard on purpose.
At least he listens well.
Paeng Jagol didn’t care if Wang Yi Sam fled.
Song Hyeon shrugged.
“One guy slips away— you cool with that?”
“Heh heh heh, small fry like him? He’ll tangle himself in the net. I hunt the real game.”
“I’d prefer that too, but looks like I drew small fry.”
“……Me, small fry?”
“Aren’t you?”
Shing. Song Hyeon drew Blue Edge Sword, its icy gleam piercing the dark.
“No time. Let’s end this fast.”