Deep Fire - 5
"How arrogant."
That was Sima Jingyeong's reply to the declaration. An enemy whose identity was unknown, wielding power that seemed firmly in the Transformation Realm. Yet he showed no fear, even in the face of such leisurely composure. It was because his own realm matched it.
There were no more than a hundred such experts across the Central Plains. Once one reached that height, there was no telling who was superior until blades crossed. Those who cowered at an opponent's stance could never even aspire to the Transformation Realm.
He trusted solely in his own abilities. The foe was strong, but he possessed the genius tactician's mind of Mount Shinsan and an invincible sword. Proof of that lay in his moniker. Stationed not in the shadowy underworld but in Seongdo's Murim Alliance, he embodied the pinnacle of the righteous faction, upholding every propriety.
"This old man's name is Sima Jingyeong. Born under the roof of the Sima family, I honed the Eighteen Heavenly Swords. At fifty, I gained a minor enlightenment and devised a technique to shore up my shortcomings. It is called the Mancheon Baekgyeol Sword. Circumstances leave no room for mercy in my sword arts—take care."
"Jang Cheon."
He answered.
"Patriarch of the Jang family. Master of Heuk-yo. And... martial uncle to Cheon Sohyang. This seat shall employ the Black Arrow Eight Methods. Even knowing it won't save you—die accordingly."
"Arrogance incarnate indeed... What hubris!"
A sigh laced with lament. As Sima Jingyeong's aged voice rang out, he swept his hand through the empty air. At once, the three swords strapped to his back unsheathed themselves, orbiting him like loyal hounds.
Imperial Sword Flight. From the outset, he revealed the divine prowess of the Transformation Realm without restraint. There was a saying for it: the battles of Super First-Rate experts and those of the Transformation Realm followed entirely different trajectories. They did not engage in the same form of combat. The moment one glimpsed that realm, they were thrust into a wholly alien battlefield.
This was precisely what it meant.
"Regret your arrogance in death!"
The distance between them was twenty paces. For an ordinary swordsman, engaging immediately would have been impossible. Yet the three swords traced bizarre arcs toward Jang Cheon.
The Mancheon Baekgyeol, a technique Sima Jingyeong had created for himself. A sword art demanding Imperial Sword Flight as its entry requirement—the pinnacle of flying sword mastery.
The blades shot across twenty paces, scattering into Jang Cheon's blind spots. He sought to gauge the first move. Sima Jingyeong watched Jang Cheon's expression calmly.
Was he flustered? No. Expressionless. Boredom even seemed to flicker in his eyes.
Jang Cheon could not wield such esoteric arts. Even three hundred years ago, he had disdained Imperial Sword Flight. Heuk-yo's demonic power, alive as it was, rejected being "wielded" like a tool.
So how had he ascended to the Manifestation Realm? Simple. He had won without it.
"Hmph!"
A slight hesitation. The faintest tremor. His half-sword, held at mid-guard, quivered briefly. That was the only prelude.
The instant Sima Jingyeong registered it, he leaped backward. A chilling sound exploded in his wake.
Boom!
A noise even peak Super First-Rate speedsters heard on rare occasions. When a sword moved too swiftly, it rent the air. If that ruptured air outpaced sound itself, it birthed such thunderous roars. For Jang Cheon, it was routine.
"A terrifying swift sword!"
"...Still got some leisure, eh?"
For a split second, the figure who had blurred into a black gale revealed itself. Only in that brief window of swinging his blade could one glimpse even its outline.
Sima Jingyeong's fingers danced rapidly.
"Return! Sever!"
Inner energy flowed ceaselessly from his dantian, linked to his swords without interruption. That bond was forged by focused will and profound reserves. The three blades, released moments before, now pursued Jang Cheon belatedly.
Should he meet them? Allowing one strike could fell the foe outright—he was confident of that. Jang Cheon calculated briefly. Taking the Transformation Realm expert's head with this exchange. At the cost of exposing his greatest advantage.
The enemy was a strategist. He would have one final card hidden. Better to conceal it. With that decision, Jang Cheon postponed Sima Jingyeong's death just a little longer.
He spun, slashing once with his half-sword. While channeling a thread of inner energy into his dantian.
Detonation Line. A grotesque notion that defied all Central Plains inner energy theory. It provoked recoil and friction, inducing artificial qi deviation. It summoned crushing pressure enough to burst meridians in an instant, harnessing it as raw power. That destructive force swept all before it.
The principle of the Black Arrow Eight Methods—arts usable only by one who had attained immortality.
"Show me your worth."
Black Arrow Eight Methods, second form: Sever.
Kagagagak!
A horizontal line devoured the air. Jet-black sword aura, forged of dense inner energy, morphed into a black streak hurtling forward.
Sima Jingyeong paled. He had seen this style at the main gate, but facing it head-on carried a different weight.
"Curve and Spin!"
With his shout, the swords desperately warped their trajectories. Dodging the black line by the slimmest margin—a feat possible only for one who had reached the Transformation Realm. An instinctive pursuit of optimal efficiency even in dire straits. A maneuver enabled solely by his mastery of Imperial Sword Flight.
Yet.
"Gah!"
The black line was faster than he anticipated. Fiercer, too. It accelerated beyond expectations—sword aura accelerating on its own. Another subversion of martial norms.
Sima Jingyeong tilted his hand sharply sideways. His swords abandoned counterattack, tracing wider arcs. He aimed to exploit any opening ruthlessly. But there was a price.
Clang!
Two swords clattered pitifully to the ground. Sima Jingyeong's face drained of color. The rebound from his spirit-linked blades, struck by the foe's technique, had lashed back. Even Imperial Sword Flight's shock absorption failed here.
"Hoo! Mad... the arts of a madman!"
And it didn't end there. A murky shadow flickered in his left blind spot. Sima Jingyeong folded his torso backward. For an instant, the ledger of the reaper unfurled before his eyes. He flipped his body three times in frantic footwork, evasion blooming gorgeously in midair—pure desperate thrashing.
At the same moment, he crooked a finger. Two swords rose from the Black Shadow Corps corpses, shooting toward Jang Cheon. No longer sloppy circles. He had realized haphazard feints wouldn't touch that speed.
"Ha."
The advantage of Imperial Sword Flight lay here: ignoring stances' pros and cons. Jang Cheon felt his senses sharpen in this rare clash with a flying sword master. He should have ended it just now. Despite ample margin and time, his blade had felt sluggish. The consequence: this second counterattack incoming.
"I've rusted too, it seems."
Thinking back. Three hundred years bound underground. Expecting honed instincts was unreasonable. Time for a more refined approach.
He sensed the straight sword's trajectory arcing from behind. Calculated. Straight-line swords followed fixed paths. With keen insight and skill, even this was possible.
"This'll do."
Jang Cheon's hand seized the incoming blade. He had grasped an Imperial Sword Flight sword.
Sima Jingyeong's eyes widened. Yet the sword in Jang Cheon's grip thrummed futilely, unable to escape. Perfect timing—he needed a blade anyway. The Black Arrow Eight Methods strained not just the body. Even one use had cracked the half-sword scavenged from the corpse massively.
Crack!
He crushed the edge in his fist. Thus, an improvised half-sword was complete. Jang Cheon eyed Sima Jingyeong, new blade in hand.
Transformation Realm, eh. Just the level to tune his rusty senses. End it in three exchanges.
Right then.
Another figure leaped from the pavilion. A middle-aged man with a long greatsword. An eyepatch over one eye made him stand out all the more.
Sima Jingyeong's expression brightened slightly.
"Right on time. Thousand-Mile Lone Traveler."
"I heard unnatural explosions. Who the hell is that guy?"
"...No info beyond Transformation Realm. Stay sharp."
Thousand-Mile Lone Traveler nodded cautiously. He had witnessed the Transformation Realm's threshold firsthand. For Sima Jingyeong, it was a godsend. Far superior to Yi Pil-do. Not all Super First-Rate were equal. Too weak, and they'd just drag him down.
"But even two might not cut it. We should abort the plan."
"Jahyo Bang is here."
Thousand-Mile Lone Traveler replied. He had just spoken with the chief strategist on his way down. Sima Sim was hastily devising new tactics.
"They sent a monster too. If he joins us, we can win."
As he spoke, Sima Jingyeong's head snapped left. Farther out, barely at the edge of his senses, a sinister, ominous aura erupted violently.
That must be the monster Thousand-Mile Lone Traveler mentioned.
"...On par with me."
Two Transformation Realm experts changed everything. At that pinnacle, two became a hundredfold force. Especially with Thousand-Mile Lone Traveler joining.
Sima Jingyeong reordered his priorities inwardly. No longer that unknown wench. This man before him. He had to prevent escape until reinforcements arrived. From now on, the foe would flee at full speed.
But.
"......"
Jang Cheon's reaction was far from flight. Instead, he slowly raised his sword. As if willing to wait as long as it took for the new Transformation Realm powerhouse charging in to arrive.