Chapter 137
Chapter 137
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 39
>Chapter Title: Infiltration (4)
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[Chapter 39: Infiltration (4)]
Back to the present.
Mok Kyung-un sneered at Wi Maeng-cheon, the blind Yiak leader of the Five Evils Society, who was thrown into chaos by Ji Hang's death.
"Disappointed that things didn't go according to plan?"
"You bastard..."
"You must have racked your brains quite a bit. It would've worked smoothly on anyone else."
-Grit!
The blind man, Wi Maeng-cheon, ground his teeth.
He had no idea how it had happened, but one thing was clear: his scheme had failed.
It was a plot he had simulated dozens of times.
He had prepared for most variables, so how had he slipped away?
But now wasn't the time to dwell on the failure's cause.
-Tight!
Strength surged into Wi Maeng-cheon's hand gripping his sword hilt.
With the original plan derailed, the only option left was to kill him personally.
Otherwise, things would spiral beyond his control.
Wi Maeng-cheon spoke quietly.
"I don't know how you escaped suspicion, but coming here was a grave mistake."
"A grave mistake?"
-Slash!
No sooner had Mok Kyung-un questioned him than Wi Maeng-cheon's sword cleaved through the air.
In that split second, Mok Kyung-un had widened the gap by half a step.
Thanks to that, the blade barely missed slitting his throat, merely grazing past.
"Fast."
"......"
Wi Maeng-cheon said nothing in response.
Unlike their last clash, where he had merely tested his skills, this time he had swung to kill—and yet, he had dodged it.
'...He's definitely surpassed the peak.'
He had estimated him at the early transcendent stage.
Having exchanged moves several times before, factoring in the power behind the sword made it seem certain.
That alone was astonishing.
Only seventeen years old.
A kid not even of legal age had reached such a realm—his talent was undeniable.
However,
'You'll die here.'
-Whoosh!
Wi Maeng-cheon's sword traced a complex trajectory as it surged toward Mok Kyung-un.
Mok Kyung-un's eyes shook rapidly at the accelerating blade.
This was his first real bout with a true master since gaining enlightenment from the Blood Valley report.
Wi Maeng-cheon's swordsmanship exceeded his expectations.
-Slash slash slash!
It was beyond dodging.
Mok Kyung-un countered with defensive sword forms to withstand the onslaught.
-Clang clang clang clang clang!
Their swords clashed over a dozen exchanges in an instant, blue sparks flying in the darkness.
With each collision, Mok Kyung-un's form was pushed back bit by bit.
A clear sign he was outmatched in internal energy.
'Innate genius got him to the transcendent realm, but those two flaws can't be helped.'
The first was internal energy.
When speaking of its depth, years mattered because it accumulated over time.
No matter how talented Mok Kyung-un was, he couldn't match the decades of cultivation Wi Maeng-cheon had amassed.
And the second—
-Clang clang clang!
As they clashed evenly, Wi Maeng-cheon's sword suddenly deviated from its path, thrusting toward Mok Kyung-un's thigh from an unexpected angle.
Mok Kyung-un was forced to alter his sword path to block it.
-Clang!
In that moment—
-Thud!
Wi Maeng-cheon's heavy kick slammed into Mok Kyung-un's abdomen.
His body was shoved back another four steps.
Sensing it by sound, Wi Maeng-cheon smirked.
'Experience... he lacks experience.'
Mok Kyung-un's forms were flawless, but his lack of real combat and master-level duels left him unable to handle variations.
His techniques were straightforward.
He responded with appropriate counters, but it wasn't enough.
In life-or-death battles, experience was irreplaceable.
-Whoosh!
Catching up to the retreating Mok Kyung-un, Wi Maeng-cheon poured more internal energy into his assault.
Having found the opponent's weakness, he intended to press relentlessly and end it.
'Flaming Star Vigorous Sword, Fourth Form: Reckless Eternal Flash.'
-Slash slash slash slash slash slash!
His sword wove countless shadows, dazzling trajectories pressuring Mok Kyung-un.
It was hard to believe it came from a blind swordsman.
Even Mok Kyung-un was inwardly impressed.
Having seen countless manuals in the Blood Valley report, his eye for swordsmanship had sharpened.
Wi Maeng-cheon's technique was near perfection, with few flaws.
It made him want to clash properly.
-Clang clang clang clang clang!
Mok Kyung-un's Demon Instant Sword met Wi Maeng-cheon's Death Command Sword, filling the air with metallic rings.
Their blades moved so swiftly that ordinary eyes couldn't follow.
-Slash!
The sword grazed Mok Kyung-un's cheek, drawing blood.
Wi Maeng-cheon's form had twisted into another unexpected variation.
'Fun.'
More engaging than sparring with Blood Valley disciples.
Their attacks were straightforward and simple, but Wi Maeng-cheon's blade pressured him with changes from unforeseen angles.
-Slash!
Another near miss along his ribs.
All barely skimming vital points.
One slip, and the duel could end—the blade tightening around his neck with growing precision.
'Bad luck.'
Wi Maeng-cheon's face grew smug as he dominated.
The victor was decided.
In five or ten years, it might be different, but right now, Mok Kyung-un was no match.
Superior experience and internal energy.
'Foolish, Mok Kyung-un.'
You shouldn't have come alone.
He acknowledged the prodigious skill beyond his years, but you chose the wrong revenge target.
With cunning enough to escape his trap, you should've used dead Ji Hang as pretext to pressure the Dark Sect Leader, your master.
Blame your folly.
-Slash!
-Clang!
Wi Maeng-cheon's sword flicked Mok Kyung-un's upward.
A fatal opening appeared at last.
Wi Maeng-cheon's lips curled viciously.
'Overconfidence in yourself. That's your downfall.'
Certain of victory, he thrust at the exposed throat.
Mok Kyung-un's stance couldn't dodge or block.
'It's over.'
His sword pierced toward Mok Kyung-un's neck.
But then—
-Screeech!
The instant the tip touched, it slid across the surface like oil, barely grazing.
'What?'
What happened?
It should've been a clean finish.
Why didn't it pierce, instead slipping as if blocked?
He couldn't comprehend.
-Thud!
As distance closed, Mok Kyung-un's knee rose toward Wi Maeng-cheon's chin.
Wi Maeng-cheon deflected it with a palm strike from his left hand, using the recoil to leap back.
-Bam! Tat tat tat!
Six steps apart, he furrowed his brow in disbelief.
It made no sense.
That was an advanced technique beyond Mok Kyung-un's level.
-Hah!
A gasp escaped Cheong Ryeong's lips as she watched from the rooftop, pipe in mouth.
The reason was simple.
-He mastered the Repel Form.
What Mok Kyung-un had just shown was the Repel Form, first of the Shatterthought Eight Forms.
If the Adhere Form could pull anything, the Repel Form pushed away whatever touched the body.
Even she, who had been with him constantly, hadn't known.
He hadn't mentioned gaining the insight.
Of course, there was a reason.
'Tricky.'
The Repel Form differed from the Adhere Form in activation.
It required precise contact timing to repel—matching the split-second before a sword struck was incredibly hard.
It also depended heavily on the user's capacity and true energy; stronger forces were harder to repel.
That's why Wi Maeng-cheon's sword had slid rather than bounced.
'Still a ways to go.'
Unfinished, he hadn't told even Cheong Ryeong.
But it was useful enough.
It had deflected a lethal strike.
Wi Maeng-cheon spoke then.
"...You have some hidden technique. But will the same trick work twice?"
-Whoosh!
He launched at Mok Kyung-un mid-sentence.
A transcendent master, he had already realized how to counter that subtlety in moments.
-Hummm!
His sword was engulfed in blue light.
Sword aura.
He judged that a densely compressed aura would resist slipping.
'Time to end this.'
He hadn't used qi reinforcement until now to protect his blade with edge energy.
Mok Kyung-un's Demon Instant Sword was harder and sharper than his Death Command Sword, straining it on clashes.
But channeling all into offensive sword aura—
-Claaaaang!
-Boom boom boom!
One clash sent Mok Kyung-un staggering nearly three steps.
Power surged dramatically.
However—
-Crack!
Fine cracks appeared on the blade.
Affected by the shift, but it would hold a few forms.
Enough to finish.
-Whoosh!
Wi Maeng-cheon unleashed another domineering assault.
That instant—
"Running out of tricks, I see."
"What?"
"Your forms are repeating."
'!?'
-Clang clang clang clang!
As swords met, Wi Maeng-cheon's face twisted.
Sword aura reinforced, yet Mok Kyung-un hadn't yielded an inch.
They were even.
But more shocking?
"You bastard... what?"
That last form was identical to his Flaming Star Vigorous Sword, Seventh Form: Shatter Eternal Stone.
Mok Kyung-un had perfectly mirrored it.
Wi Maeng-cheon couldn't believe it.
Thus—
-Slash slash slash!
He struck again, only for—
-Slash slash slash!
Mok Kyung-un to mirror it perfectly, like a mirror.
Wi Maeng-cheon was dumbfounded.
What was this?
His unique art, Flaming Star Vigorous Sword, was a one-heir secret unknown outside.
Yet this punk mimicked it.
He couldn't know the energy circulation; this was their first clash with it.
'Impossible.'
How?
In a life-or-death duel, learning the opponent's swordsmanship on the fly?
Genius had limits.
This was cheating.
-Grit!
Shock was brief; rage boiled over.
Blind, he had honed it through blood and sweat—seeing Mok Kyung-un copy it effortlessly fueled hatred.
'Daring to steal my swordsmanship.'
Unforgivable.
Fine, could he copy this too?
Mimicking forms was one thing; true essence wasn't.
Decades mastering Flaming Star had let him vary it intricately.
Even variations, surely beyond this punk...
-Slash slash!
'No?'
Wi Maeng-cheon jerked his head aside and leaped back, dodging.
Sweat beaded on his forehead at distance.
Those three forms—variations.
Even he would've varied them identically.
'...Hah.'
What kind of monster was this?
Mimicking variations at near his level.
Beyond innate talent.
A true monster.
-Gulp!
Wi Maeng-cheon swallowed dryly, tense.
Fail to kill him here, and he'd threaten Second Young Master Jang Neung-ak's path.
He had to die, stakes be damned.
Before growing untouchable.
His internal energy still held the edge; now he could—
-Flinch!
A chill ran down his spine.
A vicious foreboding gripped his senses.
Without thinking, he flared sword aura and raised his blade.
But—
-Craaack!
The aura-clad Death Command Sword shattered.
And—
-Slash!
'!!!!!!'
Something icy cold grazed his throat in a flash.
Instinctively, Wi Maeng-cheon clutched his neck.
'What... what...'
That strike's energy had nearly tripled.
The sudden surge left him reeling.
Had he not been at full power until now?
As he reeled, Mok Kyung-un whispered in his ear.
"Why strut around when you can't even see? Keeping quiet might've preserved your neck a bit longer."
'This... this bastard...'
"Sweet dreams."
With that, Mok Kyung-un pressed a finger to Wi Maeng-cheon's forehead.
Sensing it, Wi Maeng-cheon screamed inwardly.
'Sto-stop! Please! Please!'
But—
-Pok!
Wi Maeng-cheon's consciousness snapped.
Mok Kyung-un had flicked the forehead he barely held.
His severed head thudded limply to the ground, blood spurting like a fountain from the neck stump.
-Spurt!
[Chapter 39: Infiltration (4)] End
ⓒ Han Jung-wol-ya