Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Forced Choice (5)
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The fight had tipped decisively at some point beyond a stalemate.
Nangong Yong-ho, who had approached the spar with a light heart, was losing his composure to the sword strikes unleashed by Nangong Yun-ho.
Clang!
"Urk!"
Before he could even execute a form, attacks shook the elbow that formed its axis, the knee, and his center of gravity.
The forms were fearsome enough, but what tormented him more were the bizarre rhythms driving the relentless, swirling assaults.
'Hoo.... Again!'
Shing!
The moment he tried to draw breath, a thrust came.
'Phew. Kgh.'
The instant he exhaled, a ghostly slash followed.
Disrupting the flow of his breathing technique like a specter, his breath came unevenly.
And with his breath disrupted, his qi and stamina refused to obey.
Nangong Yong-ho was utterly dumbfounded by the swordplay that severed his breath, surged relentlessly, and sealed his forms from the start.
'No way. Has my brother mastered some counter to the Nangong Family's martial arts?'
Counter technique.
A method that exploited martial arts weaknesses in reverse.
Nangong Yong-ho soon shook his head.
'The Nangong Family's arts are absolute. Who could counter the World's Greatest Sword Family's techniques?'
Unfortunately, Nangong Yong-ho's guess was partly correct.
The difference was that instead of a simplistic approach targeting form weaknesses, it was closer to imprinting every Nangong Family form in his mind and exploiting any gap however possible.
It was possible only for Nangong Yun-ho, who had grasped the essence of the Nangong Family's arts deep within while watching his grandfather's sword dance.
What need was there to mention the blood, sweat, and grueling repetitive training that accompanied it?
Ching. Cha-ching-ching-ching!
Nangong Yun-ho deflected the chaotic onslaught with ironclad defense, beyond reproach.
The Little Sword Dragon. Or Ten Instant Kills. The name felt ghostly distant.
Like the two sides of a coin that would never meet, present yet untouchable, a phantom.
Clang!
"Urk!"
His wrist throbbed from the rebounding sword.
The trembling hand gripping the sword was trouble enough, but the churning qi was worse.
Just from having his breath stolen, the qi that had flowed steadily now frayed thread by thread, his head ringing.
Drip. Drip.
Whether backlash from forcing flashy attacks, nosebleed dripped steadily to the floor.
His vision blurred, and amid the haze, his mind filled with searing shame and burning desire to win.
'Not even appealing to the students, let alone the instructors.'
'What about Bronze Hall? I heard it's a mess— you've been there a while, so you know.'
'You've done enough already. What's left to learn in a place like that?'
His own recent careless words echoed, shattering his calm.
"Raaargh!"
With qi severed and heart raging, boiling heat seemed to scorch his brain.
"You think I'm going to lose?!"
Primal urge filled his mind, awakening base desires.
"I just need to win!"
Spamming even larger, flashier forms was the natural progression.
Ching! Clang!
But unfamiliar forms shattered more easily, more simply.
"Aaaargh!"
Drip-drip-drip.
Qi in turmoil burst blood vessels in his eyes, and Nangong Yong-ho roared like a enraged beast.
"Yong-ho!"
"Hey now. Where do you think you're going?"
Thud.
Nangong Il-jun's eyes blazed with killing intent at the scabbard blocking his chest.
"Move this. You know leaving him like that could drive him into qi deviation, right?"
Qi deviation.
When mind, energy, and body fell out of balance, leading to rampage.
Even if lucky, severe internal injury; usually, qi reversal caused paralysis or death.
Not common when cultivating orthodox righteous arts, but the situation was poor.
'The kid's always won his whole life, so the shock hits harder.'
Never losing was a great boast.
Conversely, it meant no experience with defeat, no immunity.
Especially against a brother he'd dismissed.
But the opponent was persistent.
"Adults don't interfere in kids' fights."
"You really want to die?"
Thud.
Kicking the table, the leaned sword spun up.
Snatching it midair, Nangong Il-jun growled.
"Last warning. Interfere, and I'll cut you down."
"Oh dear, how scary."
Snap.
His mocking tremble snapped Nangong Il-jun's patience.
Grip.
Thumb infused with power flicked the sword while the other hand shoved the scabbard, drawing.
The instant he resolved to behead the rogue before him, Nangong Il-jun's brows furrowed deeply.
'The sword.... won't come out?'
Grip. Grip.
Pulling with force, the sword didn't budge.
"Heh. Quite the unique scabbard."
Seeing where the finger pointed, Nangong Il-jun finally understood.
The iron-forged, sharkskin-wrapped scabbard had two chopsticks protruding.
Table chopsticks had pierced it and impaled the blade.
'When did he move?'
Scalding heat atop his head cooled, chills running down his spine.
"The one who should be angry is us from the start."
'He's going to strike.'
Flash.
The moment light flared before his eyes, the opponent had already sheathed his blade.
Click.
"I'll let it slide today."
Crack.
His sword snapping in two hands sent fresh goosebumps over Nangong Il-jun.
'Incredible speed draw.'
His body hadn't reacted.
Who the hell was this guy?
"Let the kids settle their own matters."
Glug-glug.
Watching him down the bottle alone, Nangong Il-jun's eyes wavered.
Meanwhile.
The spar hurtled into fierce battle.
Shriek! Shrieeek!
Nangong Yong-ho poured full power into every swing with unbridled roars.
Losing reason, wildly flailing contrasted sharply with Nangong Yun-ho, who stood firm like an ancient tree deflecting wind.
Cha-ching-ching!
At opposite poles of momentum, one stood tall, the other shamefully pushed back.
The pushed one was the Little Sword Dragon, Ten Instant Kills, the Nangong Family's prodigy.
Pushing back despite full assault, Nangong Yong-ho slammed the ground with his fist and screamed.
"Impossible! This can't be!"
Consumed by victory lust, red-faced, he raised his sword.
Unlike before, atop the silver-gleaming blade, blue energy gathered.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.
Mighty aura from the blade unleashed scorching winds.
Facing it, Nangong Yun-ho quietly raised his left hand amid the sword winds, pointing, right hand hiding sword behind back, lowering stance.
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.
Nangong Il-jun bellowed amid the whirlwind.
"No! Yong-ho!"
Sword aura in a spar?
Seeing reasonless Nangong Yong-ho, he rushed forward.
"Hey now."
Thump.
Scabbard blocking again, Nangong Il-jun raged.
"You bastard! You just going to watch the kids get hurt?!"
"They grow through fighting. Why keep getting mad?"
"If either gets hurt, I won't let you off."
"Do as you like."
In that hesitation, sword aura fully unleashed, Nangong Yong-ho kicked off the ground.
Swoosh!
Even in victory lust, admirably clean footwork.
Leaping airward like wind, unleashing lightning sword aura groundward.
Hummmm.
Vast sword aura plummeted midair, kicking up dust.
Unavoidable reaper's blade poised to cleave lowered Nangong Yun-ho's head.
That instant.
Nangong Yun-ho, eyes closed, lips moved.
"Phoenix Soaring to Heaven."
Springing from deep crouch, shaking both hands like thunderbolts.
Ping!
Before sword aura fell, Nangong Yong-ho's wrist twisted, a sharp cry as he lost balance midair.
Ping!
Whirr. Boom.
Rebounding sword aura fragments grazed the octagonal pavilion pillar.
Crack.
Ornate roof collapsed in ruin.
"Y-Yong-ho! Yong-ho!"
Fortunately, Yong-ho was safe.
Nangong Yun-ho had caught him falling back-first, unconscious.
Limp in his arms, Nangong Yong-ho's lips mumbled.
As if trying to say something, but Nangong Yun-ho feigned ignorance, dropped his sword, and declared.
"I concede defeat."
"Cough. Cough."
Internally injured Nangong Yong-ho tried speaking but slipped repeatedly.
Nangong Yun-ho clasped hands toward Nangong Il-jun rushing to lift him, saying.
"Uncle. Having been greedy and still lost, I have no face left to stay in the family. Please understand me leaving the clan."
"Yun-ho."
"Instructor."
"......"
"Now I have no place under heaven. Only Bronze Hall's shabby dorm awaits."
So saying, Nangong Yun-ho brushed dust from his prepared beggar bundle and slung it over his shoulder.
"Farewell then."
As if always planning to leave, no hesitation shown.
Step. Step.
Watching Nangong Yun-ho's receding back, Nangong Il-jun restrained his trembling hand again and again.
On the way back.
Steadying his churning heart as he walked, a low voice came.
"Why throw it?"
To his steadfast master's question after silence, Nangong Yun-ho quickly replied.
"Just followed what you taught."
"What'd I teach?"
"Even if you lose everything, choose what lets you smile at the very end. You said so through Moyong miss, didn't you?"
In those worry-filled days, that one phrase had been so welcome.
Recent memory surfacing, Nangong Yun-ho murmured with rare bright smile.
"Thinking back, you were right, Instructor. Reflecting on my worries, it was my attachments delaying resolve."
Indeed it was.
"I want to return to the family. Gain recognition from all. Could I become heir? All my greed."
The answer was to discard.
Even losing all, recalling today at the end, he'd smile.
Thinking as instructor said, all lost, answer came quick.
"Haha. Even without family, no regrets. Fame, recognition—what are they? Ah, and I even spanked goblin brother's butt at the end. Done my duty as brother, no?"
Abandoning family, yet laughter came.
As instructor said, deep in his chest, chuckles bubbled up.
"Did you?"
"Pretty good choice, right?"
Instructor smiled faintly.
Nangong Yun-ho smiled back.
Whack.
Happiness vanished in a flash.
Warm heart filled with icy pain.
Thud. Whack.
"Ack!"
Clutching shin, Nangong Yun-ho whimpered.
"Wh-why?!"
"Why? You bastard."
Thump. Thump.
Smacking back and head wildly, Chu Un-hwi gnashed.
"Damn it! Bet your own if you wanna gamble. Why my money too?!"
"D-didn't you permit it?"
"Thought you'd double it. Ugh, you fucking bastard."
"You turned away without regrets when leaving."
"Losing and asking for money's embarrassing."
Thud-thud.
Stone fists battered head and ribs mercilessly.
Pain so fierce happiness evaporated, regrets filling void.
Tower of respect crumbled fast, no trace left.
"Ugh. Ugh. If I can smile at the very end...."
"Smile then. Today is your end."
Aaah.
This, no good.
Amid merciless beating, Moyong So-hye's words surfaced.
Instructor said.
Whispered cutely in ear.
- The jianghu is bad taste from the start.
Truly so.
Nangong Yun-ho realized his instructor, past and future jianghu bulk, embodied bad taste itself.