Chapter 55
Chapter 55
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: Victory
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Hwangboyun found the current situation highly disconcerting.
He had stepped up to capture the mad doctor who carved names willy-nilly between patients, but he never imagined things would escalate this far.
'It wasn't entirely out of left field...'
No matter how fiercely individualistic the Ledger Sword Society was, tight-knit groups naturally formed among them.
Even among those branded as eccentrics, everyone had their match—and no matter how much of a den of lunatics the Ledger Sword Society was, surely no one died without a single friend to their name.
So that Dismantling Sword Wi Sowol, whom he called the Dissecting Quack, must have at least one friend.
Honestly, even Hwangboyun thought Wi Sowol's plan was far too blatant.
He figured she'd drag along one friend or colleague at most.
But he never dreamed it would be this guy—utterly unforeseen.
"Hmm, I don't really want to fight you, you know?"
"You know me?"
"Not know you? Hardly."
First time seeing him in person, though.
His name was proudly listed in the Jianghu Who's Who that Hwangboyun had studied.
"I see. You're one of them too. From one of the Eight Great Clans."
Even as he insisted he had no desire to fight, not a trace of fear showed—instead, he radiated pure battle spirit.
Yet his words sought to dodge the clash, so it was either a ploy to mislead his foe or reluctance born of shared roots.
"That's right. Jegal Ho, the Balance Chivalrous Demon."
His features were far too distinctive to mistake.
Not many from the Eight Great Clans had defected to the Ledger Sword Society, and only one lugged around a sword and a set of scales.
"Bare-handed brawling. From the Eon Clan? You're young. But that's some exquisitely refined battle aura. Haven't seen talent like yours in Eon since Baek Gong."
Hwangboyun considered announcing his name, then realized he was still dressed as he had been back at Ssanghwa Pavilion and clamped his mouth shut.
Instead, he savagely ripped away his skirt and sleeves, baring limbs corded with beautifully honed muscle.
"You're butting in because there are two of us here, right? I won't interfere. Then you've got reason to stand down too, yeah?"
Jegal Ho's moniker was infamous.
He carried scales everywhere and settled every affair with perfect equilibrium: an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth.
The trouble was, he applied that not just to monetary dealings but to acts of justice too.
If bandits snatched commoners and tormented them viciously, he repaid them in kind.
His hands were brutally ruthless.
Ruthless enough that even his fellow righteous faction couldn't defend him.
In time, he crossed the line entirely.
While pursuing a ruthless killer who had butchered an entire family, he slaughtered the killer's kin too—all to balance the scales.
The righteous murim denounced him.
Even so, did he have to slaughter nursing infants?
Eventually, he fled his clan and turned to the Ledger Sword Society.
When Hwangboyun first heard the tale, like any other righteous sect disciple, he deemed the man's brutality excessive.
But learning that the killer had slain the household servants too—and that the man had immediately rushed off to decapitate the fiend—Hwangboyun began to doubt his own right to condemn him.
Thus, if possible, he wanted no quarrel with the man.
For all its mercilessness, collective punishment was formal law under the Great Ming Code.
Setting aside the savagery, Jegal Ho at least never slew the innocent.
'And besides, Sowol losing? I can't even picture it.'
The weird cultist was obviously going down to Wi Sowol—why stick my neck out?
It'd just be meddling in their sect affairs(?).
Jegal Ho flatly rejected Hwangboyun's proposal to step back and merely stand watch, as if it required no consideration whatsoever.
"Can't do that. The scales are still tipped."
"Ah... yeah, I get it."
Hwangboyun had learned firsthand that traveling with the physician meant reaping her benefits at least once.
He could guess the rest.
If he owed a life debt, he repaid with his life.
That was Jegal Ho's idea of balance.
"So for that reason, you'll team up with that quack to behead our Sowol?"
"If I must."
"Roger that. Time to smash you."
Scratch that bit about not killing innocents.
He's gunning for our innocent Sowol right now.
Hwangboyun thrust both fists forward.
The starting stance of the Thunderclap Divine Fist.
Jegal Ho's face fell at the unfamiliar form—one he'd never seen in the Jinju Eon Clan's arsenal.
"Not Eon Clan?"
The instant Jegal Ho's head tilted ever so slightly—
Hwangboyun charged.
Heavenly King Step's Flame-Light Divine Surge unfurled without warning.
Bare-handed against a drawn sword, his charge was boldness incarnate.
Yet Jegal Ho betrayed no urge to evade or withdraw.
On the contrary, he advanced half a pace, rooted his lower body like iron, and drew his sword back behind him.
The stance evoked a bowstring drawn taut to the limit.
The essence of the Jegal Clan's hereditary Dragon Coil Sword Art was interception and riposte.
Like a slumbering dragon rousing to whip up storm winds and rains.
The dragon latent in the blade lay hidden until it mounted the enemy's gale and soared skyward.
The sword hidden behind him surged upward in a vast arc from below.
Kwaaang!!
A deafening roar erupted, as if heavenly thunder had detonated.
The result of Jegal Ho's Dragon Coil Sword Art—Coiled Dragon Emergence—clashing with Hwangboyun's Thunderclap Divine Fist—Dry Thunder Onslaught—the opening forms of each.
Having weathered Hwangboyun's first blow, Jegal Ho bellowed.
"Hwangbo Clan!"
"Took you long enough!"
Chiiijeeng! Kwaaang!
Hwangboyun hammered on without pause, unleashing a furious barrage.
Yet Jegal Ho's blade parried every single fist strike.
Dragon and tiger locked in perfect mutual maiming.
The archetype itself.
Tigerishly ferocious and blindingly swift, the fists brimmed with the majestic inner power of the Four Heavenly Kings Divine Art—even a graze would pulp flesh and muscle under the pressure.
But were tiger fangs the only things sharp in this world?
Dragon claws might hide, but their edge was second to none.
The air-splitting whooshes chilled the blood.
Evasion and counterattack blended in exquisite harmony; despite clear disadvantage, it sent chills up Hwangboyun's spine.
The Eight Ledger Swords.
Moments that made him truly feel the terror these masters wielded over Honam.
Since leaving his clan.
Hwangboyun's own assessment: his growth had been explosive.
Meeting Wi Sowol taught him real combat; stacking actual experience embodied her lessons.
Senses once honed solely in spars now encompassed all directions and corners.
Precognitive insight contemplated the Ten Directions World enfolding him; his body, suffused with the Infinite Step Samadhi Scripture's teachings, instinctively unleashed optimal techniques without conscious thought.
His duel with the Pagun Sword—a definitively superior foe leaking blind killing intent—had elevated him yet another realm higher.
Just like right now.
'Here it comes!'
The world was slowing.
Hwangboyun's eyes flew wide at the sensation of resurfacing into that bizarre sensory realm from his Pagun Sword fight.
Jegal Ho's intercept rocketing forth with ascending dragon momentum.
Its trajectory blazed vivid in his vision.
Kuung-! Whiiiryuryuryu-!
Masters' duels demanded utter focus even on half-breaths.
Thus, the Heavenly Wind Leg Arts—which inevitably called for grand motions—were typically sidelined, but not now.
By slipping the Dragon Coil Sword Art at the barest margins, he carved out time.
Motion diverting the blade flowed seamlessly into true stepping as one motion.
And then Hwangboyun's storm-wreathed elastic leg rocketed in like a comet.
"Huryaaaaat!!"
A kiai drawn deep from the core.
The roar rivaling a lion's thundered into Jegal Ho's eardrums precisely as Hwangboyun's instep whipped his flank.
Chjjjeogeok-! Kuaaaang! Teong, teoteong!
The protective aura cloaking Jegal Ho's body utterly shattered under the blow, scattering as qi shreds.
Jegal Ho's body launched away.
Before he could thrust his sword, he slammed face-first into the ground, skipping across it like a water strider.
As he tried levering himself up with his sword as a cane, leaking breaths gushed from his lungs and he crumpled bonelessly.
The decisive strike that sealed the match.
Hwangboyun clenched his fists tight, then threw one arm high, tracing a V with index and middle fingers.
"Azzzaaa! Hwangboyun, total victory!!"
An astonishing accomplishment.
Hwangboyun, who had been decisively overwhelmed in a single exchange against the Seongheon Church's sacrificial leader, the Pagun Sword.
And that after the Pagun Sword had already wheeled through several peak masters.
Yet he had squarely toppled the Balance Chivalrous Demon head-on—a foe strong enough to hold his own against even that Pagun Sword.
Unbelievable growth.
Outlandish talent.
However.
"...No need to help after all, huh."
Hwangboyun couldn't bask in the joy—his benchmark was simply too freakish.
Wi Sowol had completely subdued Seopun Mok of the Ledger Eight Swords as well.
"Huh...?"
But this time, there was one thing Hwangboyun hadn't foreseen.
Blood was flowing from Wi Sowol's body too.