Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: Nine Deaths One Life (14)
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Even a frail, unremarkable twig that snaps easily in a child's hand becomes difficult for an adult to break when bundled together with several others. That was the subtle principle embedded in formations.
Formations were battle arrays deployed primarily by martial artists who had honed their skills, and only second-rate warriors or higher—who could properly circulate their internal energy—could deploy them.
Even then, it required bone-grinding effort to synchronize perfectly. Formations weren't something one could achieve alone; they were flows created in harmony with one's comrades.
Such formations were deployed in two main scenarios. One was to counter an enemy's formation. The other was to stand against an absolute master beyond approach.
"Deploy the formation!!!"
At Dragon Hall Leader Moyong Heisu's crisp command, the warriors moved with perfect discipline. Nine per formation, eleven formations in total, completed in an instant.
This was the Moyong Clan's pride: the Dragon Nine Palaces Sword Formation. Identical swords, yet each executed with distinct subtleties unique to the Moyong Clan, unfolding in unison.
It resembled a dormant earth dragon, coiled underground, vibrating its body as the moment arrived to ascend to the heavens. Yet their opponent didn't so much as twitch.
What would happen if one person faced a hundred warriors?
Most people would boldly declare the hundred would win. Not wrong. From ancient times, numerical superiority had been the foundation of military strategy.
Overwhelming with numbers could close even significant gaps.
In truth, the martial world was no different. No matter how vast the gap between first-rate and second-rate, sheer numbers could narrow it considerably.
But there was a decisive reason martial artists couldn't confidently answer the same question. Absolute exceptions: masters who had reached the pinnacle.
If the difference between first-rate and second-rate was like adult versus child, the gap between pinnacle and first-rate was like heaven and earth. Numerical superiority, favorable terrain, powerful weapons.
Even fulfilling every advantageous condition emphasized endlessly in the military treatises of great generals—still, an uncrossable chasm remained.
That was why they were called pinnacle experts.
Even encircled immovably by the Moyong Clan warriors' formation, not a flicker of unease showed in his eyes. Soon, Nameless slowly raised his sword toward the sky.
Vertical Slash
A swing devoid of any excess motion. Nothing more. No subtlety, no form or technique—just an utterly ordinary strike.
Yet that alone sufficed. Like a casual practice swing before training, the honest two-handed stroke completely severed the Dragon's neck.
KABOOM!!
A thunderous roar like a falling lightning bolt assaulted their eardrums. From the billowing dust erupted Moyong Clan warriors, scattered like autumn leaves in a gale.
It wasn't that their skills were lacking. Even if prolonged isolation had let them stagnate like stagnant water, they were still a renowned great clan listed among the Five Great Clans.
A fact: their martial prowess was incomparable to motley minor sects. And they had chosen the best option available.
'Not arrogance either. We acknowledged him as an untouchable master and confronted him with a formation capable of facing an army... How did it end like this?'
One strike. A mere strike had slammed nearly twenty warriors into the ground, unconscious. Nearly three of the eleven formations shattered in that single blow.
Moyong Heisu felt profound despair at the fact they were all still breathing. Surviving such destructive power meant their foe had shown mercy.
In other words, nearly twenty percent of their forces scattered by a strike not even at full power. If he struck without mercy, unleashing pinnacle techniques in full?
'Forget subduing or capturing—we might not even buy time for the Patriarch to arrive. At this rate...'
Annihilation.
The horrific outcome she dreaded began vivid in her mind.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
I startled at their sudden clamor.
Patting my chest, I inwardly sighed in relief. I'd thought they were just glaring off, but their noisy movement made me swing my sword without thinking.
Fortunately, I'd held back. Probably no deaths. Especially after seeing the leader mourn her subordinate earlier. I wanted to avoid killing if possible.
Of course, if they swung lethal strikes, I'd have no choice but to kill in full-force self-defense. So far, though, no killing intent.
"Why does the great hero aid a traitor?"
"Traitor? You mean Young Lord Moyong Hyeon?"
"Yes."
Judging force futile, Moyong Heisu asked with a pale face. Why help the Young Lord? You know better than anyone.
"Let me ask in turn. Have you ever doubted the Patriarch's actions, even slightly?"
"No."
"Truly?"
"I am the blade of the Dragon guarding the Moyong Clan. I harbor no doubts toward my lord's will, executing his commands faithfully. Nothing more."
"A loyal retainer."
Loyal retainers come in two types, people say. One spares no effort to guide their lord righteously. The other questions nothing.
A bamboo-like retainer silently fulfilling orders. Moyong Heisu seemed the latter. Persuading her verbally was near impossible.
"From what Young Lord and Sua told me, that Patriarch lacks any decency as a man. Grip the hilt, and he's no different from a tyrant."
"That's an internal Moyong Clan matter. No reason for an outsider to interfere."
This one's spouting principles?
Simply put: why meddle in family affairs, stranger? Fair point. I had no real ties—just doing this for connections.
The current Moyong Clan was split between Patriarch and Young Lord factions. By protecting Sua, I'd effectively sided with the Young Lord.
But if his faction lost to the Patriarch's? Forget martial arts or inner pellets—I could face Moyong Clan pursuit.
'That'd be trouble.'
Couldn't say I was cozying up for martial arts, though. Racking my brains, I gave the most plausible excuse.
"Ignore one injustice, and it returns tenfold upon you."
"......"
"I've seen with these eyes righteousness upheld amid injustice, heard pleas for aid with these ears. How could I, as a fellow warrior, turn away?"
"......Indeed, well said."
Surprisingly, Moyong Heisu gravely nodded in agreement. I blinked in surprise. Thought words wouldn't sway her.
"Mission accomplished perfectly. Well done."
But a firm voice from behind revealed her true intent. She'd bought time. Until a master who could face me arrived.
There it was. As the saying goes, one glimpse reveals all. The warriors so far had felt manageable—easy even, in practice.
But this voice, utterly new, pressed my shoulders like reinforced steel. Quietly, I looked up at the approaching man.
Clad in the Moyong Clan's signature white martial robes, a stern-faced man with a trimmed beard. Around his early forties. He regarded me and spoke.
"True warriors recognize each other without words. Surely you sense it too."
No sooner said than ferocious aura poured from him. An unprecedented pressure tensed my body slightly.
But it didn't end there. No need for probing—he drew his sword at blinding speed, lunging. I hastily raised mine to block.
'As expected.'
I easily discerned his identity. Movements leagues beyond the others. His subordinate-like treatment of Moyong Heisu clinched it.
'Must be the famed Dragon Hall Leader.'
A battle with a top first-rate warrior. This won't be easy.