Chapter 131
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 131
Chapter Title: 37. Kidnapping (4)
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Yangji's sword was unique right from its shape.
The intersecting curves engraved on the blade were unusual enough, but what truly caught the eye was the guard.
In longswords, that part was also called the "ancient bronze," because its flat, round shape—designed to protect the hand—resembled a copper coin.
Yet in place of the guard on this sword sat an iron sphere roughly one-and-a-half times the size of an adult fist. It didn't seem like something tacked on after the sword was forged; more likely, it had been cast as one solid piece from the iron itself. How that was even possible was another matter entirely.
The crucial detail was that the sphere's interior was hollow, housing bells that were anything but ordinary. In essence, the sphere served as a resonator, amplifying the bells' sounds.
By selectively covering the holes drilled into the hilt and shaking the bells, it produced distinct tones—much like the principle behind wind instruments such as the flute or daegeum.
That explained Yangji's peculiar grip. It was essentially the act of playing a musical instrument.
This bizarre weapon was dreaded not just by Ilgwang but by countless jianghu warriors. It was known as the Soul Spirit Sword, one of the Jianghu's Ten Great Strange Weapons.
Trrring~
As Yangji stepped back onto the Four Tiger Bridge, he lightly shook the Soul Spirit Sword. His expression wasn't great, either. Sure, he'd given Flying Tiger a good scolding, but he hadn't gotten much out of it—and in the end, he'd been the one shoved off the bridge.
Like a children's game: step outside the circle, and you're out.
So this time, Yangji taunted him deliberately, aiming to rattle Flying Tiger's composure.
"You don't look so good. Is your body alri—"
Before Yangji could finish, Flying Tiger flinched. Yangji yanked his stepping foot back and swept the Soul Spirit Sword upward in an "eol" stroke.
This time, a different melody of rolling bells rang out, and in an instant, Yangji shifted into a counterattack stance.
'Shake the charging foe with sound waves, then settle it with the sword? In other words, the sound is just a supporting tool, right?'
Flying Tiger leisurely analyzed Yangji and his grotesque blade.
How was this possible? Because Flying Tiger had never truly charged from his spot—he'd only feigned it. Yangji had startled himself into overreacting.
Embarrassing to watch, really.
Sure enough, Yangji's face flushed red, and Flying Tiger chuckled as he asked,
"Our esteemed guest elder went on about toasts and penalties for me. So is this ridiculous, embarrassing stunt a toast? Or a penalty? Or..."
"Shut your mouth!"
Tak.
In a rage, Yangji lunged, thrusting the Soul Spirit Sword forward. His right hand gripped the hilt, but his index and pinky fingers hovered slightly apart.
'Planning to wield sound waves like sword ki?'
It was some new attack variant.
Flying Tiger's gaze instinctively fixated on those fingers—then he cursed inwardly. He'd been distracted by the wrong thing and missed what mattered.
Even for a swordsman of Flying Tiger's caliber, the hands moved faster than the eyes.
Did that mean eyes were useless in combat?
Hardly.
Terms like "keen eyesight" or "sharp instincts" all tied back to visual acuity.
For a martial artist, sight went beyond mere observation—it judged feints from reality, discerned changes in an opponent's forms, and monitored the ever-shifting battlefield in real time.
The systematic training to master this in actual combat was called eye technique, held in high regard alongside hand, leg, body, and foot techniques.
Thus, clashes between masters often boiled down to a battle of eye techniques.
'How to conceal intent in one's own movements, and pierce the intent hidden in the foe's?'
That was why Flying Tiger had faltered.
Distracted by the demonic Soul Spirit Sword, he'd missed the explosive acceleration as Yangji thrust!
The interval was barely a blink. But by overlooking the initiation of that shift, the blade had already accelerated beyond Flying Tiger's ability to properly parry.
Even without the Soul Spirit Sword, Guest Elder Yangji was a true master. And with it, he could beguile not just ears but eyes as well—proof he wielded it masterfully.
So what now?
Flying Tiger rolled aside.
Degur... thump?
But evasion proved tricky—they were on the Four Tiger Bridge, after all. And below rushed a stream.
He hadn't even completed two rolls before crashing into the railing.
He knew the railing was there, of course. Desperation had taken over: dodge first, think later. That barely let him evade Yangji's thrust.
Only to slam right into it.
Crisis unresolved.
Yangji, having stabbed at empty air, spun his body and whipped the overhead Soul Spirit Sword down.
Raillings, nonsense—anything in the way, he'd cleave apart along with Flying Tiger.
Swaeek—
"Flying Tiger Warrior!"
Sama Gulgi cried out in shock as Flying Tiger seemed doomed. At that moment, Flying Tiger slipped under the railing to safety. The belated Soul Spirit Sword shattered the railing and slammed into the bridge's stone floor.
Splash~
Yangji was about to mutter something about a rat and leap after him.
Then Sama Gulgi hurled a hidden weapon from his sleeve. Yangji retreated, leading with the Soul Spirit Sword. He'd been watching the other foes, naturally.
Chrrrk.
Unexpectedly, it wasn't a weapon—but the money pouch Yangji had given him.
Sama Gulgi hadn't aimed to kill; he just wanted to force a retreat, to draw Yangji's attention from Flying Tiger to himself.
"That's enough of that. Now let's play, shall we? Apologies, but I can't accept that money."
Sama Gulgi advanced cautiously, sword trained on Yangji.
Step by step.
Yangji snorted derisively but had no choice but to turn toward Sama Gulgi.
Thus, a beat late, their duel was about to unfold as originally planned.
But it wasn't smooth sailing. From behind Yangji, a young man who'd been observing—Go Dan-o—shouted urgently.
"Guest elder!"
The call carried a warning. Urgency had reduced it to a name.
Surely not?
Yangji recoiled a step and glanced below the bridge where Flying Tiger had fallen—only for Go Dan-o's follow-up cry to make his heart sink.
"Not that side!"
In that instant, Flying Tiger popped up from the opposite railing and flung something.
Whish—thunk.
Flying Tiger hurled one mandarin duck tile, embedding it in Yangji's thigh.
He'd leaped to the water's edge, circled under the bridge to the far side, and seized the opening Sama Gulgi created to loose his hidden weapon.
Seeing Yangji stagger back, Flying Tiger crowed triumphantly,
"Well done, Sama Gulgi!"
"Ah..."
Sama Gulgi was flustered. He'd meant to help Flying Tiger, but not like this.
Enraged, Go Dan-o drew his greatsword and charged, bellowing,
"Coward!"
"What about it?"
Flying Tiger shrugged shamelessly, released the railing, and leaped back to the water.
Splash~
Having done his part, Flying Tiger now planned to bow out. Unlike some, he was remarkably free from qualms about being called dishonorable.
Go Dan-o desperately wanted to pursue and cleave him in two with his greatsword, but he couldn't. With the wounded Yangji retreating and the woman who'd come with him to protect, he couldn't abandon his post.
Moreover, the mountain bandit lookalike who'd lurked in the rear now shoved Sama Gulgi aside and stepped forward.
"Nice work, little brother. And Sama Gulgi, tag out."
The newcomer—One-Stroke Freeform Ilgwang—flashed a savage grin and slammed his iron rod, elongated by two heads beyond his own, into the ground.
Thud.
"Allow me to introduce myself. Your opponent is me, One-Stroke Freeform Ilgwang."
Meanwhile, the woman who'd arrived with Go Dan-o supported Yangji behind the bridge, inspecting his wound. She carefully extracted the mandarin duck tile along its groove; blood welled up. She produced bandages and wrapped it securely with practiced hands.
Go Dan-o, eyes fixed on the introducing Ilgwang, asked,
"How's the guest elder, miss?"
"Fortunately, the wound doesn't look deep. If he weathers this crisis..."
The young lady called "miss"—Yi Jin-ok—drew her waist sword. With resolve, she declared,
"So, Dan-o, let's fight together."
Go Dan-o stared ahead, thinking.
Grateful words. But today's fight wouldn't be easy. The three villains before them were no amateurs, nor mere bandits. Otherwise, the guest elder wouldn't have fallen so humiliatingly. Sure, it involved dirty tricks—but that required skill to pull off.
'Even if this young lady's trained in fine martial arts, she lacks real combat experience. To those veterans, she's just prey. One hand short already... too dangerous.'
Steeling himself, Go Dan-o asked Ilgwang,
"What's your goal? You're no ordinary bandits. Are you after me? Or the Zhao Family Manor?"
"Heh heh heh. Amid this fight, you casually pry into everything."
Ilgwang smirked stickily and began twirling his iron rod.
—Miss, when the fight starts, hurry away with the guest elder.
A sudden transmitted voice.
Yi Jin-ok startled—"Huh?"—and nearly stepped forward, but Yangji tugged her collar. With a grim look, he shook his head.
Yangji had already reached an agreement with Go Dan-o via transmission: while Go Dan-o held the strong foes, they'd slip away. Staying would only hinder, not help.
But how could they?
Yangji persuaded the hesitant Yi Jin-ok to trust Go Dan-o; with his skill, he could handle himself. It rang true, so she reluctantly—and somewhat dazedly—agreed.
"Now!"
Ilgwang strode forward and swung his iron rod viciously. Go Dan-o parried with his greatsword, shouting,
Clang~
A deafening metallic clash sent Ilgwang and Go Dan-o rebounding four or five steps each. They promptly charged again, savagely swinging their weapons.
"Good! But... still tough, huh? And yeah, definitely suspicious."
Flying Tiger, lucky as ever, lounged on a large rock by the stream a short distance away, muttering to himself. The classic spectator pose.
On the bridge, the two warriors clashed fiercely, while Go Dan-o's comrades fled the way they'd come.
So what was good, what tough, and what suspicious, in Flying Tiger's eyes?