Chapter 147
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Knife Mountain Sword Forest (6)
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The elder had been about to turn back after his duel with the Zhao Family Manor Lord fell through, when Choe Oe-jin made another proposal.
He offered to pit him against the strongmen of Shaanxi instead. For instance, other experts from Zhao Family Manor, or renowned warriors whose fame spread far and wide—he would arrange life-or-death bouts or spars with them. They might not be the so-called big fish, but it was an offer to overwhelm him with the next tier down through sheer numbers.
From the elder's perspective, it wasn't a bad deal. They might not hold the same allure as the Zhao Manor Lord, but he was always thirsty for clashes with the strong.
And so, the elder became Choe Oe-jin's guest. Every half month, he would spar with elder-level figures under the Martial Qin Alliance, leading him to stand here today.
After hearing the full story, Jin Ga-yong pondered for a moment before making a courteous request to the elder.
How about they have a pure duel, just the two of them, some other day in a fine location? He added that given Zhao Family Manor's current poor circumstances, they couldn't properly receive a guest today as a matter of propriety.
The Shandong elder found it absurd.
"I'm tired of waiting any longer, and I've never cared for empty formalities in the first place. No need to set a separate table for me."
"In that case, I beseech you."
"You want me to consider your situation? Heh heh heh. I thought I'd been plenty patient waiting this long already, or have I not?"
"Must it truly be now?"
"Hmph. I'll nail it down right here, so listen well. If you die by my hand or dare to flee, I'll personally sever the head of your junior fellow hostage, Yosan Sword. If you want to save him, defeat me right here and now! Clear enough?"
Compromise was off the table. And to think he dared drag his junior fellow into it with such bullying...
Jin Ga-yong's face hardened, and soon he issued a cold warning.
"Don't blame me. I gave you the chance, but you kicked it away yourself."
"If you've got the skill, anytime!"
The Shandong elder's eyes gleamed as he gripped his sword hilt.
But ignoring the elder, Jin Ga-yong tossed out a somewhat out-of-left-field question.
"Earlier, you said that unless one concerns himself with the man wielding the sword, why should he care about some mere external object? Is that truly how you feel?"
"Did I ever say even an empty word to that effect?"
"Well now. I agree it's a fine mindset that any practitioner ought to engrave upon his heart. However..."
The Shandong elder narrowed his eyes at Jin Ga-yong. This was supposed to be a quick fight—why was his tongue so long?
Should I just slash first and see?
But Jin Ga-yong pressed on undeterred. As he did, he raised the Soul Sword in his left hand and caressed the orb that served in place of the sword's pommel (bells rattled inside it).
Ting-a-ling~
"You've rolled around the jianghu long enough as an elder, so surely you've heard or witnessed it yourself. In this jianghu, there exist things so bizarre and supernatural they're hard to explain, much like tales of monstrous strength or divine anomalies."
"Are you referring to that Soul Sword you're holding? Warning me to beware it?"
"Precisely."
"Hmph, disappointing. Even if that thing's former owner, the dead Yang Ji, brought it before me himself, I'd find it laughable."
The Shandong elder's point seemed valid at first glance.
No matter how exceptional the Soul Sword's abilities, what use was it if one couldn't wield it?
And by common sense, it was hard to believe Jin Ga-yong knew how to handle it.
Its owner had clearly been the late Yang Ji, the visiting warrior. Even if he'd stayed at Zhao Family Manor like Jin Ga-yong, he wouldn't lightly share such a supreme secret as how to wield the Soul Sword.
Thus, the Soul Sword in Jin Ga-yong's hand was merely a decent blade, nothing more.
Rumble-rumble~
As if mocking the Shandong elder's thoughts, the bells within the Soul Sword's orb began to chime finely.
Jin Ga-yong had injected qi into the orb's interior via the palm of his caressing left hand, thereby activating the bells.
And with that, Jin Ga-yong lightly swung the Soul Sword through the empty air.
...?
No sound came.
One would expect at least the whoosh of a sword cutting air, yet even that was absent. What manner of strangeness was this?
The Shandong elder was startled, and Jin Ga-yong spoke coldly.
"I wouldn't know about Shang Wu-ke, but this Jin is different. Come at me. I'll answer for your ignorance and rudeness."
"You... you know how to wield the Soul Sword? But it was Yang Ji's blade—how?"
"Seems you didn't know who this weapon's former master was. Nor why Shang Wu-ke came to our Zhao Family Manor in the first place."
"...!"
That was food for thought.
The elder mulled over Jin Ga-yong's words for a moment before nodding.
At the very least, one thing was clear.
He now grasped why a weapon owned by a mere visiting warrior like Yang Ji could be called one of the Ten Great Famous Blades of the jianghu, its prestige resounding.
After all, weapons didn't gain fame simply for being superior on their own. They needed tales to stir hearts or pluck heartstrings—stories worth retelling, like some figure renowned across the four seas slaying a vile foe with it, feats that spread far by word of mouth.
In that sense, Yang Ji fell short. He might have received some respect as an expert in the jianghu, but he lacked the caliber to forge such legends.
Thus, Yang Ji had merely been one of the transients the Soul Sword passed through, unworthy of true ownership.
And judging by Jin Ga-yong's tone, some predecessor of Zhao Family Manor had once been its master. Moreover, for some reason, Jin Ga-yong himself seemed to wield it properly.
In other words, someone qualified now held the Soul Sword.
If so, this fight would be...
"Heh heh heh, splendid. I like it very much."
The Shandong elder was purely delighted.
The stakes had grown far beyond expectation.
If he won this bout, his swordsmanship would edge closer to perfection! And if he lost... his long, arduous journey would meet its end here.
How could that not send thrilling shivers down his spine?
Clang.
The Shandong elder drew his sword from its sheath and declared boldly.
"Very well. I'll look forward to it in earnest. Enough chatter—shall we cross blades?"
Step by step.
The Shandong elder and Jin Ga-yong advanced toward each other.
At this, the elder extended his blade parallel to the ground, while Jin Ga-yong slowly rotated his right hand on the hilt, warming up the Soul Sword.
Thrum-thrum-thrum~
The Soul Sword emitted a heavy bass tone unlike any before, signaling the battle's start.
And so, the two began.
While on the other side, the other two were drawing to a close.
Poke.
A Jeok-gang's chain sword pierced Sama Gul-gi's thigh, drawing blood, and in response, Sama Gul-gi's sword slashed at the advancing A Jeok-gang.
But it was too slow.
Whoosh—
The sword Sama Gul-gi swung merely cleaved empty air where A Jeok-gang had withdrawn, lacking even the flair of a miss.
In truth, A Jeok-gang's chain sword strikes were equally plain, their patterns obvious. It was simply that Sama Gul-gi's body had reached a state where he couldn't even dodge those.
Thus, in go terms, the board brimmed with black and white stones, and they had entered the phase of filling ko—empty points where filling them offered no advantage either way.
They raced toward an obvious conclusion.
'Is this really it? The end? I... can't accept it!'
One step.
That was the exact gap between them now.
Yet the thought of crumbling without closing that single step was unbearable to Sama Gul-gi.
In that instant, his eyes flashed wildly.
As if possessed, he burned his remaining inner energy, mustered his strength, and lunged forward two steps.
With all his might, he attempted a single-point thrust at A Jeok-gang.
Slice.
...
Sama Gul-gi stared blankly as his thrusting hand—and the sword gripped tightly in it—parted from him.
A Jeok-gang had dodged left in that moment and struck down at Sama Gul-gi's wrist. He'd anticipated a final counterattack, conserving a breath for it, making this a perfect riposte.
Splat.
Sama Gul-gi's hand hit the ground first, A Jeok-gang swung his chain sword, and Sama Gul-gi himself rolled onto the cold floor soon after.
There was no pain.
Only his spirit collapsing.
Huff. Huff.
A Jeok-gang could barely stand himself. He braced his bent knees with both hands, supporting his upper body, and panted raggedly. Once he'd caught his breath, he staggered on wobbly legs toward Sama Gul-gi to finish it.
"Unforgetting Sword, any last words?"
"..."
Sama Gul-gi lay dying, soaked in his own spilled blood. The wounds riddling his body played a part, but his heart had broken first.
Thus, he met A Jeok-gang's question by clamping his mouth shut, merely staring at his severed hand and sword.
All that he was lay there.
A Jeok-gang nodded.
"Understood. I'll send you on your way. If King Yama asks who sent you hence, say it was A Jeok-gang."
Snicker.
A bitter smile tugged at the lips of the dazed Sama Gul-gi. A memory had surfaced.
Just before clashing with A Jeok-gang, Sama Gul-gi had given only his sobriquet, omitting his name.
Since one of them would die regardless, no need to share a name unworthy of remembrance.
A Jeok-gang had grinned amusedly and replied:
'Is that so? In that vein, I'm A Jeok-gang. No point in nicknames for those leaving the jianghu, so I'll skip mine.'
Sama Gul-gi had brushed it off then as nonsense, but now he grasped its meaning—and smiled wryly.
Those living in the jianghu needed sobriquets; those departing did not. And to King Yama, one ought to give the name bestowed by one's parents.
That had been A Jeok-gang's point.
A Jeok-gang lopped off his head. Then, gazing at the sky, he laughed triumphantly.
Roll-roll-roll~ Thud.
As the severed head tumbled, someone stopped it with their instep.
That someone sighed, then squatted down, turned the head straight, met its eyes, and attempted conversation.
"Hello? Name's Hobi. They say you were looking for me?"
"..."
"Hm, not so hello-worthy, I suppose."
Flying Tiger muttered as much while closing the wide-staring eyes of Sama Gul-gi. He brushed off the dirt from its rolling, smoothed its crumpled expression.
Looking more presentable now, it evoked the handsome man he'd been in life.
"Flying Tiger, you knew that man?"
A Jeok-gang asked.
Flying Tiger had just picked up the head and placed it beside the body before rising.
He clapped his hands clean and said,
"Who knows. Knew him, but maybe not... something ambiguous like that?"
"..."
"He was a stubborn, loyal sort. Not quite extraordinary—his ears were a bit too thin for that—but had he been met in different circumstances, different place, might've been worth befriending."
"Did I err on your account?"
"Nah, if not for Brother A, it'd have been my job anyway. Thanks for the assist. And truth be told... he wouldn't mind. We had a promise."
"...?"
The day before yesterday, Sama Gul-gi had knelt before Flying Tiger and begged.
Just arrange to meet Hobi, and he'd offer even his head. Who knew how sincere, but he'd said as much then, and Flying Tiger had vaguely acknowledged it.
So both the beggar and the one who'd granted it had kept their word. The order was a bit reversed, but all the same.