Chapter 48
Chapter 48
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Mad Gale Beggar (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
As my coordination with Jeong-hyeon began to mesh smoothly, Professor No Sam started increasing the frequency of his attacks at some point.
Now, his palm strikes were pouring endlessly from his left hand.
'Anti-Dragon Eighteen Palms!'
True to its name, which meant forcing even dragons to their knees.
Krroooom!!!!
It felt like the roar of a thundering dragon echoed, followed by an overwhelming surge of palm force.
The slightest lapse in concentration or a single careless step, and one of my limbs—or my head—would surely go flying.
'But it's worth a shot.'
And that made sense.
Professor No Sam was only using his left hand, so at my current level, I could barely fend them off.
Bam!!!!
Besides, fist and palm techniques inherently require both hands to freely mix feints, fakes, and real strikes. Using just one hand created occasional blind spots and openings.
'I charged into one of those gaps earlier and got a harsh lesson.'
Of course, Professor No Sam had a divine knack for turning those gaps into feints.
But if I didn't get greedy and just used those moments to catch my breath, I wouldn't fall into crisis.
'And Jeong-hyeon's there too.'
Jeong-hyeon was relentlessly chaining Wudang sword forms from the opposite side.
Even amid the frenzy of three fighters clashing—stances breaking apart, footsteps stamping everywhere—he somehow held the eastern position, scattering blue sword energy.
So if Professor No Sam's palm strikes were a storm, Jeong-hyeon was the lighthouse.
Of course, no matter how bright the lighthouse, launching a boat into a raging sea was madness.
But during my earlier attempt to strike from behind Professor No Sam and escape, I glimpsed a path to slice through that storm.
'If I can fully connect that path I saw earlier.'
I wouldn't even need to wait for our trump card, Woo So-reung. With that blue lantern as my guide and Regret in my right hand as my pole, I could cross this storm.
'It was instinctive flailing to survive, sensing death.'
The sword forms that unfolded from my restricted footwork had lost much of the Heaven-Splitting Swordsmanship's signature ferocity.
'But they were fluid and fast.'
In that instant, I caught a glimpse of why my sword didn't flow like Jeong-hyeon's.
Recalling that subtle insight, I began unfolding the Heaven-Splitting Swordsmanship once more.
Shiiiik!!!
Truth be told, I wasn't yet at a level to add anything to the Heaven-Splitting Sword Principles.
But trimming it down? That I could do.
'Reduce a full step to half.'
The first three forms of the Heaven-Splitting Sword Principles that my master had taught me.
The movements I'd unconsciously performed, trapped by their rigid forms.
I trimmed back the steps and thrusts meant to amplify ferocity.
'Shorten a full inch thrust to half.'
Then, the fierce swings from Regret began losing their brute strength and savagery.
Professor No Sam's reaction said it all.
"Eon brat! You're faltering! Starting to lose your steam?!"
But in their place, softness and suppleness emerged, revealing paths.
Heaven-Splitting Thunderfall, slashing down vertically.
Heaven-Splitting Whirlwind, slicing horizontally.
Heaven-Splitting Charge, thrusting straight ahead.
A clear path connecting the so-called first three forms of Heaven-Splitting Swordsmanship.
Seeing that path sparked a sudden thought.
'...This isn't some new form at all, is it?'
The trimmed first three forms meshing together felt like an existing technique in the Heaven-Splitting Swordsmanship.
Otherwise, they wouldn't interlock so precisely, like measured with a ruler.
Convinced, I twisted my lips into a smirk and began threading that path.
"Losing steam? Nah. We're just getting started."
I connected it, connected it again, and kept connecting.
The first few were clumsy and rough, even to my eyes.
But as I swung Regret in a half-trance, the forms soon linked perfectly, flowing endlessly like the mighty Yangtze.
Shiiiik!
It stemmed from observing Jeong-hyeon's Wudang sword, but its essence differed vastly.
If his sword embodied Taiji principles, endlessly undulating— the orthodox flow—
Mine held Heaven-Splitting principles, a raging torrent twisting through.
Shiiiik! Shiiiik! Shiiiiik!!
As I unleashed these sword forms, a cringe-worthy voice came from the master in my hand.
- Kekekeke. I sensed you grasping it when you talked about seeing the path, but you're climbing the next step already! That's Heaven-Splitting Torrent, one of the true three forms of Heaven-Splitting Swordsmanship!
'...As I thought. It was an original form.'
- Exactly! A mother bird can incubate eggs, but the chick must hatch itself. Without fully mastering the first three forms I carved into you, you couldn't comprehend it—and getting too fixated blocks discovery. You climbed that step yourself!! Your progress is at least two months faster than my youth; your ancestors in heaven must be beaming! Hahaha!!
While my master chuckled heartily in my hand,
Professor No Sam's face darkened.
"!"
It had to.
"D-Did this punk pick up a Millennium Snow Ginseng or something?!"
"I said we're just getting started, didn't I?"
Shiiiik! Shiiiiik!
Boom!! Kwang!!!
If Anti-Dragon Eighteen Palms flew like dragons through the sky, Heaven-Splitting Sword Principles tore that sky asunder.
My relentless sword strikes shook the heavens where dragons frolicked.
And Jeong-hyeon's seamless sword claimed the earth where the dethroned dragons sought to descend.
Shiiiiik! Shiiiiik!!
Bam! Bam!! Bam!!!!
"Th-These damn brats?!"
The weary one-armed dragon finally unleashed twin palms toward both flanks.
"Don't you punks know respect for elders?! Let's catch our breath, you bastards!!!!!"
I opened my mouth toward that dragon.
"You just used both hands."
Eon Yong-un, the seventy-ninth examinee, pointed out the use of both hands.
Hearing that, No Sam stared blankly at his right hand.
'Damn. So I did.'
It wasn't wounded pride.
Quite the opposite.
'Thought I'd have some fun after so long, and it ends like this?'
No Sam felt ennui.
Since earning the moniker Lazy Wind Moon Beggar, people treated him like a beggar too lazy even to curse—and academy students saw him as one of the easygoing professors.
But in truth, No Sam was the most diligent among beggars.
Before Lazy Wind Moon Beggar stuck, his title was Mad Gale Beggar— a beggar mad for battle.
To be battle-mad as a beggar required immense diligence and clear purpose.
One day, in his youth, blinded by competitive zeal, he realized nurturing the next generation mattered more and took up teaching.
Yet was the righteous world too unyielding?
Over two cycles of mountains and rivers, the later-generation students seemed more keen on the academy diploma than chivalry or martial prowess.
'Neglecting basics, half-assing everything in droves.'
Thus, No Sam's ennui.
But these two examinees hoping to pass the gates seemed different from past students.
'Rock-solid fundamentals.'
The one called Jeong-hyeon looked like a young Wudang Daoist. Modern Wudang swordsmen chased flashy Taicang Sword lineage, so young disciples started with Lesser Pure Sword.
'But this kid mastered Taiji Sword?'
And deeply at that.
Even more astonishing was the Eon Yong-un beside him.
'Fierce, brutal sword forms I'd never seen—at first I thought demonic arts.'
No demonic aura, though. Scrutinized, it boiled down to horizontal cuts, vertical slashes, thrusts.
Essentially street-level Three Calamity Swordsmanship enhanced with unique footwork and mental method.
'Polished Three Calamity Swordsmanship to that degree?!'
What tenacity would make even Bodhidharma weep?!
And it wasn't just grit.
'Growing in this brief clash.'
Amid life-or-death stakes against far stronger foes, he possessed tremendous talent for growth.
'And they came for a five-point trial with that skill?!'
Judging one reveals ten; no way their scores sucked elsewhere.
Thus, either martial spirit or lacking chivalrous points among peers.
The former was martial prowess; the latter, chivalry.
Couldn't steal a Wudang disciple, so the young Daoist aside—the Eon kid was disciple-worthy talent.
But not yet certain of his character or heart.
'Tch. A bit more sparring would tell.'
For the first time in ages, embers reignited in No Sam's ennui-choked heart.
Longing for true students and the passion of his Mad Gale Beggar days.
His rarely used brain whirred.
'Chief Examiner Lim said total exam time is one hour, patient wakes around half. Maybe I can spar longer?'
To my call-out on both hands, Professor No Sam stroked his chin, pondering instead of coughing up the promised bead.
My master in hand clicked his tongue.
- Look at that beggar wheeling his eyes. Up to no good, clearly. Sheesh!
'Nah, no way.'
- Hey! Doubting me? That's why they say 'beggar bastard' and 'beggar talk'!
And damn if it wasn't spot on.
"Ahem. Extending the exam a bit. Come at me again. This time, both hands."
"......?"
Jeong-hyeon widened his eyes at me.
I shot back immediately.
"What beggar nonsense is that?!"
"Khmm. I am a beggar."
"Beggar or not, as exam proctor, own your words."
"...Well, true. But this could benefit you too."
"Benefit my ass. Just hand over the bead."
"...Hmm. Uh. Right! When you first woke me, what'd you call me?! Demonic, right?! Demonic cult bastards act flaky like this. I know from experience!"
In this unfolding farce, my master in hand let out a hollow laugh.
- Ha. See? Textbook beggar bullshit.
'Yeah. What a grade-A beggar geezer. No more respect for the old coot.'
Then it happened.
As beggar hatred stacked—master first, now second—
Focus returned to the pupils of little So-reung, laid nearby.
"Jeong-hyeon!"
"Yes, Young Master Eon!"
"Unleash your ultimate! No choice—trump card time!"
I tossed a signal only we'd understand, then charged Professor No Sam with sword forms.
Jeong-hyeon, holding the east, scattered blue sword qi. No Sam rolled up sleeves, bellowing, unleashing golden palm force.
"Good!"
Watching, I thought inwardly.
'Good my ass? Who said we'd play your way?'
As I pondered that, unfolding sword forms while tri-colored energies tangled wildly.
Ah! The waited-for Woo So-reung!
Our little So-reung blitzed faster than her shadow could follow, snatching at No Sam's waist like a hawk.
"?!"
Shock flooded Professor No Sam's face.
I gifted him a twisted smirk.
"You called yourself demonic, so this is fair? Righteous later-gen snatching an elixir meant for Heavenly Demon, right? Isn't it?"