Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Engaging in the Decisive Battle
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“Disappointing. To think you believed such a shallow trick could fool me.”
Seop Dae-gang said.
His expression under the moonlight was as impassive as ever.
“What do you intend to do?”
“What do you think?”
Unlike usual, his speech was blunt and disrespectful.
Heuk Do-san glanced toward the tents. The distance from Ice Valley to the tents was over twenty zhang—about sixty meters—and with the snowfall, they were out of sight, and ordinary sounds wouldn’t carry that far, no doubt.
He could guess Seop Dae-gang’s intentions. He planned to eliminate him while everyone else was asleep.
If someone happened to witness his escape, a clash ensued, and he had no choice but to kill him— that would suffice.
No need to invoke alliance laws, defy Mo Yong-ak’s opposition, or deal with Hyeon-gak and Dang Yak-ran getting involved.
“A fine move.”
“You’ve gotten sharper.”
“But you overlooked one thing. The clash of metal rings out far, piercing even fierce winds. With the skill levels in those tents, they’d surely wake.”
Seop Dae-gang plunged the sword sheath he held into the snow.
Heuk Do-san narrowed his eyes slightly.
Seop Dae-gang was a master swordsman renowned for his blade work. For him to discard his sword meant he underestimated him.
“Young Master Heuk...”
Bing-seol tugged at Heuk Do-san’s sleeve. Her voice brimmed with fear.
“Step back.”
“What are you planning?”
“Don’t worry. Just prepare the flares.”
Bing-seol retreated five or six steps.
Heuk Do-san planted his feet shoulder-width apart. At the same time, he tensed his toes, packing the snow beneath for a solid launch.
A dagger and axe were tucked at his waist for easy draw, and a bow hung on his back—string slackened, but present—yet he drew no weapon.
A flicker of expression crossed Seop Dae-gang’s face for the first time.
Even if one side discards their weapon, the other wielding one poses no metallic clash concern.
And if there is a clash, wouldn’t you desperately wish for it in your position?
Seop Dae-gang’s face seemed to ask.
“You plan to face me barehanded?”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“If I draw my axe, I might kill you before I know it.”
Boom!
Heuk Do-san launched first. He shot forward like an arrow bursting from a fully drawn bowstring.
Seop Dae-gang’s eyebrows furrowed in an inverted eight. He charged too. In the blink of an eye, four fists crossed chaotically in midair.
Boom! Thud thud thud thud!
Five exchanges in a gale-like flurry.
A heavy pain surged through his wrist bones, spreading across his body. Heuk Do-san felt as if someone had crushed his wrist with an iron club.
‘This is orthodox martial prowess...’
The continent boasted five ancient sword sects rooted in the mountains. The jianghu revered them as the Five Mountains Sword Sects.
Mount Hua Sect occupied Mount Hua, known as the Western Peak, a grand faction with centuries of tradition.
Rooted in Taoism, it had absorbed much Confucian influence over time, its once lofty purity long faded.
Yet its martial arts had evolved for greater efficiency. Plum Blossom Swordsmanship exemplified this.
They say when mastered to the utmost, the sword tip blooms with flower-like qi resembling falling plum petals?
And there was the Falling Petals Pursue Glory Palm.
Mysterious footwork like the subtle spread of flower scent in a silent night—Dark Fragrance Float—infused with the majestic Purple Divine Art inner power, unleashed from the palm: the Falling Petals Pursue Glory Palm, the unrivaled supreme palm technique of the martial world, needing no introduction.
Seop Dae-gang’s palms unleashed exactly that in rapid succession.
Boom! Thud thud thud boom!
Heuk Do-san led with both hands, repeatedly guarding vitals. Each time, his palms, fists, and elbows that took the hits instead buzzed with pain.
Mount Hua’s arts were indeed extraordinary. A gap would appear, then vanish; a fist dropping from mid-arm would suddenly surge from the lower arm with ferocious power.
Seop Dae-gang’s relentless barrage left no room to breathe, evoking the cannon fire from Shandong Peninsula’s front lines.
“I see why people fear you. Among all the martial artists I’ve faced, you’re undoubtedly the strongest!”
Seop Dae-gang couldn’t hide his astonishment. He’d planned five exchanges at most—subdue him in five moves, then end it swiftly.
This calculation generously accounted for the bastard’s decade-plus of battlefield hardening.
Yet reality unfolded differently. Their brief clash had exceeded thirty exchanges.
After the initial brief exchange, he’d been on the unrelenting offensive.
But somehow, the bastard blocked his ferocious assaults with unheard-of movements and techniques. Now he even spoke.
Talking mid-fight—let alone a life-or-death duel—was madness. A disrupted breath meant the end.
“What in the world happened to you?”
“I struggled to survive.”
“That’s it?”
“Nothing teaches like desperation.”
“You’re saying battlefield combat is the ultimate training? Foolish talk. Desperate living isn’t confined to battlefields.”
“Are you calling it ‘desperate’ to chase ambition while slaughtering innocent civilians?”
“How many innocents die guiltless across the world? A cart racing down the road crushes ants and mantises alike.”
“Shut up. They’re human, just like you. Their only crime is weakness.”
“The strong survive, the weak perish. That’s the sole law ruling the jianghu. Isn’t that how you grew strong?”
“Not at all. I grew strong just to live. Not to trample others like you.”
“That’s why you’re a dog to the bone. That’s why Mo Yong-ak left you. A soaring phoenix and a yapping earthbound mutt can’t match.”
“...?”
“Remember this. No matter how fierce, a dog remains a dog unless reborn. I’ll show you the price for your battlefield tricks.”
Seop Dae-gang halted his onslaught abruptly, retreating three steps. Simultaneously, he twisted his palms up from his lower dantian.
A purple mass of light gathered in his overturning palms. The phenomenon just before Purple Divine Art’s power erupted fully.
‘Falling Thunder Palm!’
Krrrack!
A heaven-splitting roar echoed. The air warped drunkenly as a flashing bolt hurtled forth. It was lightning incarnate.
Struck, one’s five viscera and six bowels would shred like rags. No chance to react—the bolt slammed Heuk Do-san dead-on.
Thud thud thud!
Snowballs at his feet exploded outward like from a bomb, scattering everywhere.
For an instant, Heuk Do-san’s surroundings filled with pattering snow chunks. When they settled, he knelt on one knee.
His hair hung loose, whipping wildly in the wind; his clothes shredded, exposing flesh.
“Young Master Heuk!”
Bing-seol screamed, rushing forward.
Heuk Do-san thrust a hand back. Bing-seol halted abruptly in her tracks.
Heuk Do-san slowly rose.
Seop Dae-gang was aghast.
An unbelievable sight, even with his own eyes.
No one beneath heaven could stand after taking Falling Thunder Palm head-on.
“What is this...!”
“My master always said: Water is soft yet cuts all; an ant is small yet can topple pillars.”
Just now, Heuk Do-san had purged all resistance within, fully absorbing Seop Dae-gang’s lightning.
It pierced straight through his spine, erupting from his feet. That’s why the snow exploded.
“My turn now?”
Heuk Do-san stomped—Stamping Foot.
Boom!
Majestic energy burst from his toes. The ground shook violently for five or six zhang around. Hard to keep balance amid the quake.
By then, Heuk Do-san’s form plummeted from a zhang-high air toward Seop Dae-gang’s head. Ghostly movement.
Seop Dae-gang, in horrified panic, raised both hands to block. Heuk Do-san’s hand blade smashed down forcefully atop the crossed wrists—like a “ten” character—then struck the crown precisely.
Crack!
With a dull impact, Seop Dae-gang’s torso buckled slightly. Meanwhile, Heuk Do-san dropped like a Thousand Jin Hammer, unleashing a storm of fists.
Thud! Thud thud thud thud!
Seop Dae-gang was truly exceptional. Even dazed, he frantically blocked every fist.
But before the ceaseless storm of ferocious assault, two decades of Mount Hua’s ironclad arts inevitably cracked.
Thwack!
His left shoulder jolted from a direct fist hit. His chest guard opened wide. Heuk Do-san seized the split-second gap, pummeling the chest.
Crack crack crack thud!
Seop Dae-gang’s upper body shook like an explosion. Amid it, he lunged a left palm at Heuk Do-san’s philtrum, toxic intent.
Heuk Do-san bent his waist with Iron Bridge technique, evading the left palm.
He darted left, alternating hand strikes to the ribs, then leaped while backhanding the jaw with his right fist.
He hooked his right arm down, elbow-stamping the left shoulder.
Crack! Thud! Crunch!
Even as fists hammered his chest, Seop Dae-gang stretched a hand to grab Heuk Do-san’s collar—as if vowing to break him while breath remained.
Heuk Do-san savagely struck Seop Dae-gang’s windpipe, seized the throat, hoisted him, and slammed him to the ground.
Splat!
Seop Dae-gang sprawled on the snow—utterly wretched.
Left shoulder dislocated, twisted unnaturally; internal blood refluxed from throat injury, gurgling nonstop.
But the final throat blow trapped the clots inside; he only gasped raggedly.
Utterly defenseless.
Heuk Do-san said coldly.
“I know your type well. Vermin who never bow until shown utter power.”
The way to handle them was one: destroy thoroughly.
So that upon seeing him again, they’d piss themselves fleeing, revenge unthinkable.
Heuk Do-san flipped Seop Dae-gang with his instep. He mounted the prone waist, seized both legs, yanked them.
Finally, he drew his dagger, pressing it to the Achilles tendon. To sever the meridian—ruining him as a martial artist, though daily life intact.
Then—
“Argh!”
A sudden scream. Turning, Hong Gongtak held Bing-seol captive. Blade to her nape, gleaming murderously.
“Didn’t expect the ambush.”
“Drop the blade.”
“Can’t do that.”
With those words, Heuk Do-san released the legs, gripped Seop Dae-gang’s hair, pressed dagger to his nape.
“Mount Hua’s seventeenth-generation disciple versus Heavenly Demon Divine Cult witch. Whose life fetches the higher price?”
“You miscalculated.”
Hong Gongtak squinted, clutching something, and said.
“If I toss this toward the tents, your four allies die.”
Meaning Dang Yak-ran, Hyeon-gak, Gong Cheon-ak, Yeom Jin-sang. Gong Cheon-ak injured made sense, but Dang Yak-ran and Hyeon-gak were beyond Ghostly Ten Freaks.
Asleep, though? Different story. No expert blocks an unseen blade.
“Weren’t they your allies?”
“Betrayers come from allies.”
“Sichuan Tang Clan and Shaolin Temple won’t sit idle?”
“Who’ll know?”
Same as a decade ago.
Cowardly bastards.
“Last warning. Drop the blade.”
Heuk Do-san discarded the dagger, stood.
“Drop the axe too.”
He tossed the waist-tucked axe.
“Back ten steps.”
He retreated exactly ten.
Then—
“Urk!”
Seop Dae-gang flipped suddenly, vomiting a basin of blood. Throat-blocked blood burst free; his breathing eased.
“Sword Lord!”
Hong Gongtak tried dragging Bing-seol closer.
Seop Dae-gang raised a hand, blocking him. Propping on the ground, he sat, wrenched his limp left arm.
Crack crack—shoulder popped back.
‘Monstrous bastard...’
Seop Dae-gang scooped snow, chewed and swallowed. To soothe throat swelling from the strike.
Regulating breath briefly, he astonishingly stood hale. He drew his nearby planted sword, turned to Heuk Do-san.
He toed Heuk Do-san’s fallen dagger and axe toward him.
“Take them.”
Flames blazed in Seop Dae-gang’s eyes—fury at the first to defeat him lifetime. He craved sword rematch; confidence in blade against any.
“Life-or-death duel with a hostage? Your style?”
“Gongtak, kill the witch.”
“...!”
“Now.”
“As you command!”
Hong Gongtak pressed Bing-seol’s shoulder to kneel. A blade rose high.
That instant, from snow-gust behind Hong Gongtak, a massive black shadow bolted like lightning.
Krrrack!
Upper body bowed like a bow from back strike. Shadow seized hair, hoisted, smashed face repeatedly into ground, hurled away.
Thud!
Flying three zhang, Hong Gongtak crashed beside Seop Dae-gang, writhing in agony.
Immense divine strength.
All eyes turned to the shadow. Bing-seol choked out.
“Seventh Star Lord...!”
“You alright?”
“How...?”
“Step back.”
Gong Cheon-ak pushed past Bing-seol, advancing. He eyed Seop Dae-gang and Hong Gongtak loftily, saying.
“Now it’s fair.”