Chapter 119
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 119
Chapter Title: Chapter 34: The Tiger's Maw (2)
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Flying Tiger and Sama Gulgi glared at each other as they slowly closed the distance.
Very slowly.
And it was when only about six steps remained between them.
Sama Gulgi smoothly advanced half a step further, prompting Flying Tiger to shorten his stride and lunge forward one step faster.
Tap.
It was a battle of spacing.
Sama Gulgi, wielding a relatively long weapon in the form of his longsword, aimed to launch his assault from around four steps away. In response, Flying Tiger sought to burrow deep inside to three steps or closer, forcing a chaotic melee.
That would make it hard for Flying Tiger to swing his blade freely as well, but it would constrain his opponent even more.
But when do things in the world ever go as planned?
Sama Gulgi's forward foot suddenly snapped back as if it had never advanced, and his longsword met Flying Tiger head-on.
It was a feint from the start, baiting Flying Tiger to leap into his range.
*Feint: An empty technique used to deceive the opponent. For example, pretending to throw a punch suddenly makes the foe instinctively assume a defensive posture out of surprise. Feints are employed to draw out the enemy's reactions through such false actions. In contrast, executing a real technique is called a true strike.
But what if Flying Tiger hadn't reacted? Then it would have become a true strike. Sama Gulgi had planned to build momentum from that half-step and charge right in.
Be that as it may.
Sama Gulgi's longsword cleaved between heaven and earth following the Three Divisions Stroke's introductory form, Heaven-Earth Dividing Stroke. A hazy gray aura rose from the blade.
Shrieeeek.
It was the moment Flying Tiger accelerated his stance and leaped in.
Just before, he had realized it was a trap laid by Sama Gulgi, but he intended to force his way through by ramping his momentum-driven speed to its maximum.
But it was a reckless gamble.
The swift, powerful blow from his opponent's stable posture was burdensome enough to counter on its own—not to mention the unforeseeable follow-ups that would pour forth afterward!
The instant Flying Tiger realized this, he twisted his body forcibly and gripped his Gwageumdo with both hands to block.
Claaang~
Flying Tiger was sent skidding back, his Gwageumdo trembling violently while his wrists throbbed with pain. Though he had clearly lost that exchange, his aim was to escape Sama Gulgi's range.
But before the tremors in his body could subside, Sama Gulgi lunged in, rendering Flying Tiger's intent futile. Rich in arena experience, he had accounted for such scenarios, immediately pursuing with a thrust aimed at Flying Tiger's brow.
It was the Three Divisions Stroke's latter three forms' opener, Human Point.
Clang.
Flying Tiger deflected the stabbing blade with his sword, barely glancing it aside. But his stance crumbled, and the tremors amplified further.
That was when Flying Tiger's ordeal truly began.
Clang—clang—clang—clang—
Sama Gulgi pressed him masterfully. Neither hasty nor leaving openings.
By skillfully adjusting pace and advancing with caution.
Flying Tiger repeatedly fell back on the defensive, searching for a chance to shake him off even at the cost of damage, but it refused to go his way.
Sama Gulgi remained unshaken by any bait Flying Tiger tossed out, steadily chipping away at his stamina and mental fortitude bit by bit.
Clang—clang—clang—clang—
The relentless exchanges of offense and defense surpassed thirty in the blink of an eye, leaving even the spectators breathless.
'That bastard means to grind me down to death. In that case...'
In that case, he had to play his trump card while he still had the strength left to do something.
In an instant, Flying Tiger's footwork grew wildly erratic as he wildly swung his Gwageumdo against the blade choking his breath.
It resembled a startled serpent thrashing about—a manifestation of the Small Cold Sword Style's Nine Lives Absolute Strike, Reverse Water Reflection.
Sama Gulgi, in turn, slightly loosened his offensive reins as before, aiming to ride out the furious waves.
But after three or four clashes, an unexpected shift occurred.
For some reason, the direction of Flying Tiger's thrusting blade suddenly veered off and extended straight—almost like the Monkey King's extendable staff.
That cunning sword tip targeted Sama Gulgi's hand.
Ting.
Sama Gulgi flinched and blocked Flying Tiger's incoming blade with his sword guard.
The guard was sliced but succeeded in its purpose: protecting its master's hand.
As the startled Sama Gulgi hastily retreated to assess what had happened...
'Left-hand sword?'
In the moment Flying Tiger's right foot pulled back, he had switched the Gwageumdo from his right hand to his left and thrust.
Thus, the blade's starting point differed, extending beyond the range Sama Gulgi had calculated. The difference stemmed from his retreating right shoulder versus the fully exposed left shoulder thrusting forward.
That extra two chi—about sixty centimeters—
Instantly flipped defense into offense and offense into dominance.
Whoosh.
Flying Tiger hurled himself at Sama Gulgi like a hawk, unleashing a ferocious barrage.
Clang—clang—clang—clang—
This offensive from Flying Tiger differed from Sama Gulgi's once more.
Where Sama Gulgi felt methodically 'by the book,' Flying Tiger was ferocious. As if snarling, 'Go ahead, stab if you dare. I'll poke you back two or three times harder.'
"Whoa, turning the tables like that... He looks seriously pissed now, huh?"
Ho Ye-hwa, immersed in the duel, marveled freely, but Jaeng-geum grumbled in dissatisfaction.
"He's got some decent skill, sure. But flying off the handle and putting on such a rabid show... Tsk, not impressed."
"Rabid show?"
"Look at him. Frothing at the mouth and lunging to tear into his foe like a mad dog? A swordsman's heart when wielding the blade should be a clear mirror, like still water."
"Pfft, now that you mention it, yeah, he does look the part. But his basics are solid, and his sword handling is proficient. You can tell he's been properly trained."
"Huh? By whom? Anyone but Sama, who hasn't wavered an inch amid all that..."
"......"
Ho Ye-hwa mulled over Jaeng-geum's words. There was an implication there.
'This guy's got his eyes set on something. Probably thinks he'll snag a spot if Sama rises to lead the family later? Heh, dream on. You grovel like Sama's some 'Dragon Among Men,' but the fool can't even handle one snarling tiger cub without sweating—how dare he speak of dragons? Then again... who am I to mock? Heh.'
Ho Ye-hwa let out a self-deprecating chuckle.
Come to think of it, he and the other top-tier cleaners among the young bloods—those crushed by Flying Tiger, like Tam-jeok-hwa and Jaeng-geum—shared much in common.
They had all trained in prestigious family arts but found their paths to prominence blocked.
The reasons varied: illegitimate birth, parents involved in rebellions, and so on. But they were all doomed to skulk in the shadows under their families' watchful eyes for life.
Or so it should have been.
That's why, when the organization approached them with, 'How about becoming human butchers?' they bit without hesitation. The heavens themselves needed to turn for them to catch a breath.
Such circumstances had left each of those five with some fundamental flaw.
One ruined by bloodlust.
Another idiot sniffing around for a taste of power.
One a sexual deviant, another a freakish gambling addict.
And he himself, driven by chronic anxiety, couldn't shut up for a second like some blabbering fool...
Crash-clang-bang.
His self-pitying reverie was shattered by a clamor of noise, followed by cheers or shouts.
Ho Ye-hwa's eyes widened like saucers as he frantically scanned left and right, baffled.
It had happened without warning. He'd only been lost in thought briefly, and he hadn't even closed his eyes—his gaze had followed Flying Tiger and Sama Gulgi.
Yet he hadn't seen what occurred between them? And even Jaeng-geum, who had focused solely on the duel unlike him, looked clueless too.
Then perhaps...!
At any rate, the outcome was clear.
Flying Tiger had dropped his Gwageumdo and tumbled away, coughing up blood with wet hacks.
A severe wound.
And Sama Gulgi clutched his longsword, panting heavily. But his pale face bore a tumult of emotions.
Perplexity, shame, rage, and confusion.
Thus, the duel between Flying Tiger and Sama Gulgi ended in Sama Gulgi's unsatisfying victory.
How had it come to this?
There were five spectators to their clash: Ho Ye-hwa and Jaeng-geum, plus Ilgwang, Bong Yeon-ja, and Gon-son the Monk. None lacked renown as experts in their domains, all battle-hardened veterans who had survived unscathed in the jianghu thus far—their instincts were sharp as a result.
Thus, though Ho Ye-hwa and a few others were briefly stupefied, their eyes soon turned to two particular individuals. If something incomprehensible had happened, one of those capable of it must be responsible. And conveniently, two such figures were present.
Bong Yeon-ja, the poison and hidden weapons specialist, met the stares with a cold snort.
And Gon-son the Monk, whose talismans warranted calls of 'superhuman strength and divine power,' shrugged with a grin.
"Why's everyone eyeing this poor monk like that? Did something happen?"
Aha, that bastard's the culprit!
Right, rumor has it he's long been acquainted with Unseong Chilrang?
Slick and sinister-looking as he is.
Better not cross him. Who knows when he'll stab me in the back. Gotta watch out.
......
Various thoughts flitted through the onlookers' minds, but Ho Ye-hwa alone flushed red and confronted Gon-son the Monk. It was because he, who had recommended Flying Tiger and pushed the matter forward, was now screwed thanks to this guy.
"What the hell is this? Laying hands on someone we brought in for the organization's needs, without even the master's permission."
"You accusing this monk? Heh~ Come on. Got any proof? I tell you, even he had no idea. So don't drag innocents into this."
Gon-son the Monk denied it flatly, looking genuinely indignant.
But Ho Ye-hwa scoffed.
"Hmph, can you swear that on the faith of the god you believe in?"
"...You're crossing the line. Daring to take the sacred Heavenly Lord’s name in vain."
"......"
Ho Ye-hwa was so flabbergasted he let out a hollow laugh. The one who farted gets mad, they say—and this guy fit the bill perfectly.
Killing intent flickered in Ho Ye-hwa's eyes. Though he usually chattered idly and had recently lost face getting trampled by Flying Tiger, he was no pushover. A human butcher with dozens of lives on his hands.
It was then, as Ho Ye-hwa and Gon-son the Monk glared at each other.