Chapter 239
Chapter 239
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 239
Chapter Title: Relentless Sparring
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In the Four Dream Plains, numerous disciples were sweating profusely while holding their horse stance.
"Ugh."
"My arms feel like they're going to fall off..."
It hadn't even been half a shichen yet, but they had already reached their limit. The disciples trembled like aspen leaves, letting out faint groans.
They had repeated the horse stance for one shichen every day.
Thanks to that, recently they had been able to finish it with just a light sweat.
But today was different.
'If only it weren't for these iron rings!'
'This is torture! Torture!'
Swallowing their anger and lamentations inwardly, they glared resentfully at their arms stretched straight forward.
Peeking through their sleeves, iron rings were firmly fixed around their wrists.
Each one weighed thirty jin.
One alone was heavy enough, yet they wore them on both wrists and ankles.
This was hardship beyond hardship.
Meanwhile, seated comfortably in a chair placed on the raised platform of the Four Dream Plains, Cheonhwi watched them with displeasure.
"Can't even handle that much... Sigh."
A sigh escaped him naturally.
Those two arms stretched straight forward had been drooping little by little for a while now.
And they hadn't even picked up their swords yet.
Cheonhwi clicked his tongue as he stared at the iron swords placed neatly beside them.
But he soon shook his head.
"Still, compared to the first day, it's like they've become fairies. Fairies."
He recalled the first day when they couldn't endure the weight of the iron rings and collapsed from just the horse stance.
At that moment.
Thud— thud—
The heavy sound of footsteps drawing closer broke his reverie.
Cheonhwi glanced back casually.
There, the Martial Training Pavilion Leader Hyeonyang was approaching, lightly carrying a fifty-jin heavy iron sword in his left hand.
'Oh, handling it easily. Must have trained diligently.'
Cheonhwi's gaze, which had scanned Hyeonyang, soon fixed on his left wrist.
"Huh, wearing two? With the iron sword too, that must be quite heavy."
"Can't wear it on my right hand, can I?"
Hyeonyang replied with a glance toward his limp right hand.
"Well, true."
"And this way, I can train my left hand even faster."
Cheonhwi nodded with a satisfied expression at Hyeonyang's follow-up words.
As expected, the most diligent one.
'Tsk, if only those guys learned from this attitude.'
Cheonhwi glanced at the disciples in horse stance and shook his head.
Then, looking back at Hyeonyang, he asked.
"How's it going? Used to the left-hand sword yet?"
At the question, Hyeonyang gazed at the fifty-jin iron sword in his left hand and smiled softly.
"Now the sword finally listens to me."
Oh ho.
Cheonhwi's eyes sparkled.
It hadn't even been a full year since he started training the left-hand sword. And it already obeyed him?
Impossible with ordinary effort.
'Must have trained like his life depended on it.'
Cheonhwi smiled faintly and said.
"That's good."
Hyeonyang nodded at Cheonhwi's words and opened his mouth.
"But why did you call me?"
At Hyeonyang's direct question, Cheonhwi stood from his chair and said.
"How about a spar?"
"A spar...?"
"You've gotten used to the left-hand sword, so it's time for proper martial arts training, right?"
"Through sparring?"
"Yeah. Sparring seems better than just talking."
"True."
Hyeonyang's eyes gleamed in response.
It was the moment he had been waiting for.
Confirming Hyeonyang's reaction, Cheonhwi lightly picked up the iron sword he had tossed carelessly on the ground.
"Then to the training ground."
Before the words finished, Cheonhwi's figure vanished like a snuffed candle.
"Whoa... Can't even see it."
He had been watching intently, yet only realized the movement after it vanished from sight. As Hyeonyang exclaimed in admiration at the astonishing footwork.
"...!"
"Martial Uncle?!"
A commotion arose among the disciples.
The disciples in horse stance flinched, staring in surprise at Cheonhwi who had suddenly appeared nearby.
"What are you trying to move for? Not even one shichen has passed."
Cheonhwi scolded the startled group.
"You're not tired already, are you?"
"Heup!"
"N-No way."
Cheonhwi grinned at the disciples denying it despite their obvious exhaustion.
"Right? I figured. No way the horse stance would be hard just because of this little extra weight."
The disciples smiled awkwardly for a moment.
"Keep the horse stance going then."
Cheonhwi's lips twisted slowly as he continued.
"No matter what happens from now on."
The disciples looked puzzled at his words, but instead of explaining, Cheonhwi lifted his head toward the platform.
Thud.
Hyeonyang stamped his foot, eyes shining.
Whoosh—
His robes billowing widely, Hyeonyang landed lightly in front of Cheonhwi.
Cheonhwi raised his iron sword, gazing at Hyeonyang whose expression had hardened tensely.
"Come on."
It was rare for a martial nephew to yield the first move to his martial uncle, but everyone present thought it natural coming from Cheonhwi.
Because that martial nephew was none other than Cheonhwi.
"Very well."
Hyeonyang calmly raised his iron sword.
Grip—
Strength naturally flowed into his left arm.
Two iron rings and the iron sword.
With that weight, his arm muscles screamed in agony.
However, as Hyeonyang circulated his internal energy next.
Smooth—
The screaming muscles calmed.
'Let's pour everything I have.'
Feeling the power in his left arm, Hyeonyang exhaled slowly with a resolute expression.
His eyes grew composed.
At the same time, following his will, the Plum Blossom Qi Art surged, forming sword energy.
Hyeonyang quietly gazed at the faint red energy blooming on the dark iron sword. Soon, his hand dipped slightly.
And in that instant.
Flash!
His body shot forward like lightning.
As Hyeonyang crossed the space in one breath with Ink Cloud Thunderclap, the iron sword moved, rippling like waves.
At the same time, the plum blossom scent flowing from the sword tip spread in all directions.
'Much more proficient now.'
Cheonhwi inwardly approved and swung his iron sword.
Clang!
The two solid iron swords clashed, erupting in a harsh explosion as wind whipped up.
And as if that were the signal.
Clang! Kang!
Explosions continued to ring out.
"Pavilion Leader?!"
"...!"
The disciples watched their clash in astonishment.
Everyone knew Hyeonyang had recently begun training the left-hand sword since he couldn't use his right.
Yet it had barely been any time.
The left-hand sword he displayed now looked like the result of years of training.
Meanwhile, unlike the disciples' admiration, Hyeonyang gritted his teeth at the grueling situation.
'Hup!'
He swallowed a groan inwardly.
Each clash sent shocks that felt like they would tear his sword-gripping hand apart.
But he couldn't stop now.
'Not yet.'
Hyeonyang's eyes burned fiercely.
Crack!
His shoulder muscles twisted sharply.
Thud!
He stomped heavily.
"Heup!"
"Huk!"
The shockwave spreading from his foot swept over Cheonhwi and the disciples.
"Ugh!"
The disciples in horse stance couldn't withstand the wind and closed their eyes.
"Your stances and forms are perfect..."
An indifferent voice rang out.
Cheonhwi didn't blink an eye amid the swirling dust and wind.
"But still lacking."
Cheonhwi switched the iron sword to his left hand and immediately swung it.
Thwack!
Hyeonyang's eyes widened.
Cheonhwi had effortlessly deflected his left-hand sword, the flat of the blade whipping his side.
As he glared at Cheonhwi with bloodshot eyes from the intense pain.
"Martial arts aren't mastered just by mimicking explanations and forms. The key in left-hand sword is internal energy control..."
Relentless advice continued as the iron sword kept moving.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
"Mmph! Mmph!"
Hyeonyang's face flushed red as plum blossoms from enduring the blows.
Yet Cheonhwi didn't stop.
Experiencing it firsthand was fastest.
Isn't it said that a hundred hearings are not as good as one seeing, a hundred seeings not as one awakening, and a hundred awakenings not as one doing?
No matter how much one hears or sees, it couldn't compare to doing it oneself.
"Dodge to the left. Use footwork before the sword diagonals. Think of left-hand sword as reversing all your previous actions..."
Words poured like a waterfall as Cheonhwi's iron sword relentlessly pressed.
"Kuh, kugh!"
A groan finally escaped Hyeonyang under the merciless barrage.
The watching disciples' faces grew pale.
'Even so, to the Pavilion Leader...'
'He's insane! Crazy!'
'No respect left!'
They were aghast.
They accepted Cheonhwi treating them roughly, but never imagined he'd use force on the Martial Training Pavilion Leader too.
Yes, this is how it should be.
Meanwhile, Cheonhwi, who had been pressing Hyeonyang, brightened.
Normally, being overwhelmingly beaten would make one curl up or retreat, unable to even deploy sword arts.
But Hyeonyang was different.
He had no thought of retreating.
Instead, he desperately deployed Plum Blossom Steps and Orchid Flower Sword Style to counter or deflect the onslaught.
Incorporating Cheonhwi's advice.
'Great comprehension too. If he keeps growing like this, he might recover his previous prowess faster than expected.'
Cheonhwi grinned and swung his sword.
Clang!
The compounded shock made Hyeonyang drop his sword.
"Kugh!"
The flying iron sword thudded to the ground, kicking up dust.
Cheonhwi approached Hyeonyang, who was slowly walking toward the fallen sword.
"Shall we stop?"
Hyeonyang's eyes sharpened.
He moved his trembling left hand to pick up the iron sword.
"No, not yet enough."
A smile played on Cheonhwi's lips.
"Good."
As Hyeonyang assumed stance again, Cheonhwi swung, filling the Four Dream Plains with dull thuds.
Thwack! Thwack!
The one-sided spar continued as before.
But Hyeonyang didn't give up.
Though his movements dulled over time, his sword gained sharpness from absorbing Cheonhwi's advice.
"..."
The disciples in horse stance had forgotten their own training, unable to tear eyes from the match.
At first, they pitied him.
They knew better than anyone how painful each blow was.
And mentally, it must be grueling.
Losing his right hand, getting thrashed by his martial nephew in front of the disciples he taught, receiving instruction.
If it were them, they'd flee in shame and humiliation.
Yet Hyeonyang didn't.
"Kugh! N-Not yet."
Watching Hyeonyang rise repeatedly to face Cheonhwi despite the beatings, their hearts burned hot.
Soon, they broke stance and cheered.
"Pavilion Leader!"
"Just a bit more!"
They shouted vigorous encouragement.
Partly empathizing with Hyeonyang, but also harboring one earnest wish.
'Please land just one hit on him!'
Of course, they respected Cheonhwi.
But the training they'd endured these past years was brutally harsh.
Dark Fragrance Pills, beatings disguised as spars.
And now iron rings and swords.
'Pavilion Leader! Please!'
'Just one good hit!'
As the disciples cheered with desperate eyes, hoping for payback for their sufferings.
What are those guys up to?
Cheonhwi glanced at the shouts, then chuckled in disbelief.
'Looks like they want me to get hit.'
Cheonhwi's lip curled up.
'Later, then.'
Turning from them, Cheonhwi swung his iron sword, precisely striking Hyeonyang's side.
Thwack!
Blood vessels burst in Hyeonyang's eyes.
Yet even then, biting his lip, he swung his iron sword with all his might.
Tap.
The sword tip grazed Cheonhwi's shoulder.
It was the faintest touch.
But the first time his sword had reached Cheonhwi.
"Woooah!"
The disciples roared.
Hyeonyang smiled faintly and spoke.
"It... touched..."
As Hyeonyang collapsed from exhaustion, Cheonhwi reached out to support him.
"Good job."
Carefully laying the fainted Hyeonyang down, Cheonhwi looked at the cheering disciples and said.
"Glad you're happy, but..."
The disciples swallowed hard.
"You broke horse stance?"
"W-We..."
"Got a bit excited..."
Realizing their mistake, the disciples broke out in cold sweat.
But instead of punishment, Cheonhwi chuckled.
"Fine, let it slide this time."
Everyone looked shocked.
'Let it slide? From this martial uncle?'
'Did the sun rise in the west?'
Then Cheonhwi's lip twisted.
"Instead, spar with me one by one."
Shadows fell over the disciples' faces.
'Knew it!'
As they despaired.
"What? Don't want to?"
At Cheonhwi's words, they flinched violently and shook heads frantically.
"N-No way!"
"An honor to spar with Martial Uncle!"
Cheonhwi nodded.
"That's right. The Pavilion Leader put in such effort, how would it look if his disciples refused spars?"
Cheonhwi's eyes darkened.
This was why he sparred Hyeonyang openly in view.
'The Pavilion Leader's so serious, how can they refuse?'
As expected, the disciples' eyes widened.
Seeing their resolved expressions, Cheonhwi twirled his iron sword—not a club, the sword.
"Seems you're ready..."
Cheonhwi raised the iron sword.
"Let's go."
With his words, he swung.
From that moment, screams echoed endlessly in the Four Dream Plains.
"Agh! M-Martial Uncle! Stop!"
"Uwaaaak!"
"Kyaaak!"
Grinning at their inevitable screams, Cheonhwi said.
"What? Move faster. How will you ever hit me like this?"
"H-Hit?"
"W-What do you mean?"
The disciples denied in panic.
"Come on, drop the act. You wanted me hit."
"T-That..."
"Then dodge well."
With a twisted smile, Cheonhwi swiftly swung the iron sword.
Thud! Thud!
"Uwaaak!"
"M-Martial Uncle! Not me! I didn't think— Kyaaak!"
Scanning the disciples sprawled on the ground without exception, Cheonhwi clicked his tongue and slung the iron sword over his shoulder.
'This level of skill isn't enough.'
Cheonhwi's eyes narrowed.
The martial world was about to descend into chaos.
He couldn't protect all of Mount Hua Sect alone in such times.
'Tsk, if it were the Divine Cult, no such worries.'
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had many followers and experts, so he didn't need to micromanage.
But Mount Hua Sect was different.
Few disciples, few experts.
'Can't split myself.'
In the end, each had to survive on their own.
And for that, each had to build strength.
'To minimize sacrifices.'
Cheonhwi raised his sword and said.
"Alright, back up."
Thus, at Mount Hua, the harsh training continued relentlessly at that moment.
Meanwhile, a group quietly slipped out from the Green Forest chief stronghold, Mount Heng Stronghold, located in Honam, and began heading north covertly.