Chapter 388
Translator: penny
Chapter: 397
Chapter Title: Defying Wudang's Might
Throughout history, countless sects had surpassed Wudang in renown.
If one counted every era when Wudang had declined or fallen, there would have been at least ten sects greater than Wudang.
But.
In over a thousand years of murim history, those sects above Wudang had been forgotten and vanished, while Wudang remained, still shaking the world to this day.
Wudang's power was always among the top ten, regardless of the age, and it was a prestigious sect with an ancient history to match.
So how many had ever thrown down a direct challenge right in the face of such a famed giant like Wudang?
And by a young expert barely out of his twenties, no less!
Shock too great leaves one breathless.
Everyone gathered on the sparring platform stood with mouths agape, eyes trembling, plunged into silence.
Even the boisterous Mad Dragon crew clamped their mouths shut, fidgeting uneasily as they stared at Namgung Hyuk.
They couldn't help but be dumbfounded by Namgung Hyuk's sudden provocation of Wudang's sect leader.
'What the hell is he planning?'
'Is this... part of Second Brother's scheme too?'
'...He's not seriously thinking of starting a war with Wudang, is he?'
Things were spiraling out of control.
It could lead to a situation far graver than the demonic sword issue.
And if, god forbid, it actually came to war?
Anxiety and tension rooted them to the spot; no one dared move.
The entire arena felt frozen solid.
Heo Won Daoist glared at Namgung Hyuk, his face flushing red then pale.
But unlike before, he didn't step forward.
Because Wudang's sect leader, Heo Jong Daoist, stood silently.
Heo Jong Daoist's eyes narrowed.
His cold gaze was icier than the ice of the North Sea, his expression stiff as stone.
His aura gradually chilled, but Namgung Hyuk's provocations continued unabated.
"You said you can't acknowledge it. So what are you going to do about it?"
"......"
"In the end, there's only one way, isn't there?"
Something felt off about the flow.
The Mad Dragon crew's faces were already blank with anxiety, shaking nervously.
'No, no.'
'Second Brother, please. Let's keep it simple, simple.'
'Th-that's bad. Really bad......'
They sensed it instinctively.
Namgung Hyuk would absolutely go through with it—especially in his current mad state.
And their fears came true.
"If I prove I can wield this demonic sword better than Wudang, that'll settle it, right? Fine. Let's prove it."
"......"
"One of you step up."
His tossed-out words left not just Hye Gwang and the elders of the Nine Great Sects on the platform gaping, but the spectators below as well.
Even Heo Jong Daoist, facing him directly, faltered for a moment.
What the hell was this?
Prove it? Step up?
'Me? An elder?'
How much disdain did this crazy kid have for Wudang to spout such nonsense?
Even though the path he'd intended had opened, they were stunned, baffled, and furious at the crude method.
"Ah, Amitabha."
"Uh, ugh......"
"Infinite Buddha, Infinite Buddha......"
Hye Gwang, Ja Yang, and Baek Jong muttered Buddhist chants and Daoist invocations, groaning in frustration.
Ja Yang and Baek Jong especially looked pale as ghosts, as if on the verge of enlightenment.
Heo Jong Daoist said nothing, watching Namgung Hyuk's confident expression.
It wasn't that he had nothing to say—it was the silence before the storm—and everyone tensed accordingly.
At last, Heo Jong Daoist spoke, his expression and voice unchanged from the start.
"If that's the only way to resolve it, this seat has no objection. Wudang acts in consultation for the justice of murim and the reclamation of the demonic sword, upholding the Dao!"
With one phrase, he framed his involvement as serving the greater good.
And signaled his resolve was firm.
Ja Yang Daoist hurriedly looked at Heo Jong Daoist.
"Sect Leader! You're not seriously accepting that boy's challenge, are you?"
"Hahaha! Do we want word spreading that Wudang's sect leader and elders bullied a young expert?"
"Th-that's......"
"But!"
Heo Jong Daoist's lips twisted faintly.
His gaze passed over the flustered elders to fix on the confident Namgung Hyuk.
"As the boy says, we can verify if he's worthy to wield the demonic sword. If he has the skill to prove it, Wudang will say no more on the matter."
"Th-that's......!"
"I know what worries you elders. It might look like murim's elders are oppressing a child."
"Y-yes, exactly......"
"Then ten exchanges will suffice."
Ja Yang Daoist could say no more at Heo Jong Daoist's curt words.
He could feel the sect leader's iron will to push this through.
Namgung Hyuk smacked his lips.
"Ten exchanges?"
"Indeed. Considering our stations in the jianghu......"
"Whatever. So who's it gonna be?"
"......"
A chill settled over Heo Jong Daoist's face.
He glanced sideways.
Heo Won Daoist's expression hardened.
"Elder Heo Won will face you."
"Hmm, not bad."
Who in the world would call facing a Wudang elder in this situation "not bad"?
'Arrogance knows no bounds.'
Yet that very arrogance had dragged the situation here.
[Senior Brother Sect Leader... this won't save face. Because of the demonic sword...]
[The damage is done since I already stepped in. Wudang's face is as lost as it can be.]
[But...]
[Face lost means we must restore our dignity, no?]
As they exchanged transmissions, murder quietly flickered in Heo Jong Daoist's eyes.
[That brat aims to be murim's linchpin. He's deeply involved in the Five Great Families' alliance and tied to Shaolin as well. He's the link connecting it all.]
[And?]
[We cut it. Decisively! Kill him or cripple him within ten exchanges.]
He glared at Namgung Hyuk with gleaming eyes.
Namgung Hyuk cracked his neck side to side and grinned.
"If I win, you drop the demonic sword issue, right?"
"If Wudang loses, we'll shelve the demonic sword matter. And we pledge no retaliation hereafter."
"Oh? That's it? Shouldn't you throw in a Taecheong Pill or something? And an apology—you hounded an innocent man."
The more one saw, the more...
'Laugh while you can.'
"Fine. We accept all. But if you lose?"
"Tell me what you want."
"Wudang reclaims the demonic sword for the greater good. And the Namgung Family apologizes before Wudang and all present."
Ho ho, look at that?
Namgung Hyuk smiled slyly.
"Deal. Come on."
People were stunned to see him nod vigorously without a hint of hesitation.
Things progressed like lightning frying beans—instantly.
Somehow, someway, it ended up with a Wudang elder pitting ten exchanges against a Namgung young expert.
More precisely, enduring ten exchanges.
Hye Gwang let out a groan, eyeing Wudang and Namgung Hyuk.
'Heavens, I came to mediate at Junior Brother Hye Gong's earnest request...'
Shaolin's future hung on that boy, so Hye Gong had asked to ensure nothing went wrong.
But things were going awry.
If this was all karma and ties...
'Then I'll have to mediate. If it gets dangerous, I'll stop it somehow.'
"This old monk will referee your match."
Heo Jong Daoist smiled thinly.
With Shaolin mediating, no one else would object.
"Very well."
At his acceptance, space instantly cleared on the sparring platform.
Faces around were filled with bewilderment.
Especially the Five Great Families' elders—they were on the verge of flipping out.
Good lord, a match with a Wudang elder!
The martial might of the Five Great Families and Nine Great Sects was worlds apart.
Even among elders, laymen rated Nine Great Sect elders at least half a level higher.
Their prowess was so profound and mysterious, worthy of the moniker "Cloud Dragon" or beyond.
And among them, Wudang and Shaolin stood a cut above.
Even among Nine Great Sect elders, Wudang and Shaolin were rated highest.
"Hmph, rumors say he took down the Black Dragon Lord, but surely..."
"How can you compare a villain slaughtering commoners to Wudang! No matter how strong the Black Dragon Lord, he can't match a Wudang elder!"
"Ugh!"
Namgung Hyuk's feats?
Transcending young expert martial arts?
Not for nothing was it Wudang!
Anyone could call themselves Nine Great Sect elder level, but that was just euphemism for their incredible skill.
In truth, none could compare to an actual Nine Great Sect—let alone Wudang—elder.
The Mad Dragon crew couldn't hide their anxiety watching the two face off naturally on the platform.
So Geolgae smacked his forehead.
"...I give up. Master, we're screwed. Even if you come, there's nothing you can do now."
Dang Myeongjin gaped.
"...The mourning clothes..."
Hwangbo Chung sniffled.
"Fuck."
Dang Myeongok set down her notebook and murmured.
"...Detox and crash the fight?"
Hey, that's...
Unlike the panicked group, Paeng Jung-hyuk, Namgung Ryong, and So Hye-yeon stayed calm.
"I believe."
"Believe what? Our Mad Dragon getting his head smashed—oh, no, it's an elder! An elder!"
"Hyuk. Is strong."
We know he's strong, we know.
But the opponent's filthy strong too—that's the problem.
So Geolgae sighed heavily and turned back to Heo Won Daoist and Namgung Hyuk.
On the instantly prepared sparring platform, Namgung Hyuk and Heo Won Daoist faced off three zhang apart.
Heo Won Daoist ground his teeth at Namgung Hyuk, still smirking even now.
He murmured lowly.
"Swords have no eyes."
"Ugh, eyes would be creepy."
"...Anything can happen in a match, so don't blame my sword."
"You blame stuff all the time."
This punk?
Heo Won Daoist twitched his brow and drew his Songmun Noble Sword.
Chaaang!
With a clear metallic ring, the keenly sharpened blade gleamed.
He'd heard the punk beat the prime disciple and eleven second disciples.
But that wasn't a proper situation.
The kids hadn't used lethal force for subjugation and fell to poison and ambush.
Even if true, it changed nothing now.
Wudang arts deepen with time and training.
The gap between one year and ten pales compared to twenty and thirty—by dozens of times.
'With face already lost...'
One pursues profit.
He'd demonstrate Wudang arts' profundity, an insurmountable wall for the world.
Heo Won Daoist circulated his Taiji Divine Art.
Wudang's signature fluid inner energy surged into the sword.
Shuuuuaaaa!
Waves seemed to crash, then mist formed at the blade tip.
A serene yet fierce energy flowed.
Mist trailed down the blade, swirling.
"First exchange."
Heo Won Daoist murmured and stepped toward Namgung Hyuk.
The stately energy poured forth like a breached dam.
The calm swells became a tsunami crashing down.
A fierce, heavy strike overturning the image of Wudang swords as stately and soft.
In an instant, space warped, sucked toward Heo Won Daoist's blade.
Tsunami.
A literal tsunami.
'I'll kill him with one sword!'
Even Hye Gwang gaped at the savage aura.
Shwaaaaa!
The tsunami engulfed Namgung Hyuk.
Kwaaaang!
With a roar, the ground upheaved, and Namgung Hyuk flew.
Shrieks erupted from all sides.
"This, impossible!"
"Gasp!"
"Wha?"
Hye Gwang glared at Heo Won Daoist.
"Elder Heo Won!"
Heo Won Daoist smiled thinly.
Wudang's welfare trumped the crowd's condemnation.
Now it's over...
"H-how?"
Heo Won Daoist widened his eyes in shock.
Hye Gwang's gaze whipped around.
Brushing off pale dust, Namgung Hyuk—who'd rolled five zhang—stood casually.
He spat and said.
"Nine exchanges left."
"......"
"Come on."
The arena reeled in shock at Namgung Hyuk beckoning with his finger.