Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Clash with the Sword Saint
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Clang!
Creeeeng!
The vast cavern let out a resounding cry amid intense vibrations.
Sword light filled the surroundings, illuminating everything, while fragments of clashing qi scattered like flower petals caught in a late spring breeze.
“Hah!”
Deng Yeoping, who had been watching the two men's spar, exclaimed in admiration again and again.
His opponent was no match.
The gap was too wide.
Though it was the same sword force, the purity was on another level.
But what in the world was this?
Pa-ga-ga-gak!
The whip-like curved sword force skimmed the ground in pursuit of Jinmu, gouging furrows into the earth.
Chwi-rik, kwak!
The moment it closed in on Cheol Jiryang's front, power surged into the deeply embedded sword, bending the blade as if it might snap.
Thud!
With the sword springing back like a steel spring, Jinmu's body shot up at a diagonal angle. And along with it, his foot thrust straight like an awl.
Cheol Jiryang's eyebrows twisted.
Jinmu's greeting strike.
He had planned to receive it leisurely.
A First Generation Disciple of Wudang.
He represented Wudang's future, and at the same time, wasn't he a sturdy successor to blaze the path for the righteous factions?
When Cheol Jiryang drew his sword, it was partly to gauge Jinmu's skill, but also to appropriately suppress this martial artist who was growing far faster than imagined.
Too fast was not good.
Too fast could sometimes be poison. He worried that foundations not solidly built might crumble upon hitting a wall.
Sometimes, one needed to go slowly and steadily. Even when Jinmu drew his sword force and attacked, he thought the same. He planned to check leisurely, step by step.
And as a bonus, inflict minor injuries to make him bedridden for a while.
But what was this?
The skill gap was undoubtedly clear.
Yet he exploited the flaws in his swordsmanship so cunningly, dramatically narrowing that gap.
As if he had studied his Ward-Evil Sword Art for ages.
'Damn it.'
Ward-Evil Sword Art's Meteor Plunge.
It was a technique where dozens of sword forces split off like shooting stars, falling to trap the enemy's movements.
Due to its nature, if one didn't know it, they could easily be caught off guard and subdued. Even if they did, escaping was hard. Because the one unleashing it was none other than the Sword Saint Cheol Jiryang.
Not just one, but dozens of sword forces flowing independently—how could one dodge them?
And even if dodged, it seamlessly connected to Wildfire Scorches Heaven.
The sword forces that fell from Meteor Plunge surged up like wildfire, blanketing the sky.
It was the technique that severed the right arm of Demon Lord Goewol, the right-hand man of the great elder of the Moon Sun Cult.
During his journeys through the martial world, only one had escaped that linked technique.
The Lord of Evil Hegemony Heaven, Hyeokryeon Mugang.
Only that monstrous bastard, who grew stronger with every fight, had managed it.
Of course, in Hyeokryeon Mugang's case, his overwhelming prowess had crushed Wildfire Scorches Heaven outright.
But now, another one.
Even if he had only used half his inner power, Jinmu was pulling it off.
Of course, the method differed.
Like a water strider skimming the surface every which way, he dodged the meteor-like sword forces and attacked Cheol Jiryang before Wildfire Scorches Heaven could ignite, breaking the flow. With his concentration disrupted, the technique's momentum hesitated just a moment.
But Jinmu didn't miss that instant gap, thrusting his awl-like foot. And as he evaded, he spun like a top, unleashing sword strikes.
Dozens of slashes raked at his entire body. Coming from point-blank range, there was no dodging.
“Hup!”
With a shout, immense energy gathered on the drawn sword.
Daaaaang!
A harsh resonance rang out as he parried the strikes.
Jinmu used the rebound to leap back, preparing for Cheol Jiryang's counter.
But there was no movement.
Cheol Jiryang, sword lowered, stood frozen, staring at Jinmu.
“How did you...?”
At Cheol Jiryang's words, Jinmu, catching a moment to breathe, exhaled the breath he had deeply inhaled, chest swelling.
“Did you know the Ward-Evil Sword Art?”
Of course he did.
But he couldn't admit it outright. It would be too suspicious for Jinmu, holed up in the mountains, to know it.
“No way.”
“Yet you not only dodged but broke the technique's flow? The intervals are tricky, and one slip would mean a grave wound.”
“Yeah, somehow I pulled off that impossible feat.”
Jinmu made a grand show of looking shocked himself.
Impossible? He had analyzed Cheol Jiryang long ago.
He had mobilized the entire Hao Clan, even the Silver Wing Unit, digging into not just his swordsmanship but his personality and family affairs.
To bring him down.
Sword Saint Cheol Jiryang. Born to the renowned sword clan Wall-Evil School of Shandong Province.
Seventy this year. One younger sister, one wife, one concubine, two sons, three daughters. Quite the brood.
His family, excluding himself, remained at the Wall-Evil School in Shandong. They hadn't allowed him to join the Justice Alliance, fearing the clan might abuse power.
If he hadn't taken another concubine or had more kids, Jinmu's memory was accurate.
But even with all that research, in a life-or-death fight, Jinmu knew his current level couldn't block even one technique from Cheol Jiryang.
In clashes between masters, knowing the opponent's swordsmanship didn't guarantee victory.
Techniques didn't come in sequence, and they were chopped up and used randomly to prevent anticipation.
But this spar was the second test, following the earlier momentum.
Cheol Jiryang never used killing moves. Nor did he go all out. Why? Because it was the righteous side.
And he would surely demonstrate his techniques one by one, most courteously. If one knew the counters, victory was possible.
Moreover, Jinmu knew Cheol Jiryang, but Cheol Jiryang didn't know Jinmu. That alone was thrilling. Just seeing the flustered look on his face brought laughter.
'Heh heh heh, ponder all you want, you bastard. Even in your dreams, you won't guess I'm Hyeokryeon Mugang.'
Ward-Evil Sword Art? Cheol Jiryang?
So what?
The Ward-Evil Sword Art was heavy and light. Flow away the heavy, crush the light with weight.
Jinmu smirked inwardly, glancing at the three in the sparring ground's corner, mouths agape.
Deng Yeoping's jaw was practically unhinged, Zhuge Hyeopjin's eyes bulging.
Zhuge Sansan... round doe-like eyes...
Damn it. Anyway, they were utterly stunned, at a loss.
'Kuk kuk, my name's about to skyrocket. Watch closely, everyone. I am Jinmu, destined to rule the demonic and righteous martial world!'
Jinmu slowly held his sword diagonally.
“Did you receive my greeting well?”
“...”
Cheol Jiryang stared at Jinmu, then burst into laughter.
“Kuhahaha! My, I've truly misjudged you. If this weren't a secret spar, I'd have been greatly embarrassed.”
What? Secret spar? Then rumors? My reputation?
Such a sly bastard!
“But even in a private match unknown to all, as Sword Saint and Justice Alliance Leader, I can't lose face.”
Eh? What?
Cheol Jiryang suddenly grinned.
Why the smile? Jinmu eyed him puzzled.
Duung-sil.
The sword in his hand suddenly began to float.
Eh? What's that?
“I won't hold back anymore and will give you my all.”
Oh no, this is bad.
Jinmu's eyes widened, shock deepening in his pupils.
Whiririri.
Cheol Jiryang's energy rapidly expanded, the still air whipping into a storm.
And, shuuuk!
Replacing the floating sword, a blue sword force surged from his hand, taking sword form.
“This is the final stage of swordsmanship I've comprehended. Ever heard of Qi Sword Control Technique? When grasped in hand, it's called Energy Sword Technique. Heh heh.”
“...”
Cheol Jiryang smiled warmly.
Hey, hold on, man!
Is this the time to smile?
Shouldn't something like that appear as the hero's final ultimate technique to slay the villain at the epic's climax?
Unleashing Qi Sword Control Technique against a young Taoist in his twenties, at seventy years old?
“Heh heh, surprised, eh? No worries. Seeing your achievements, you might reach my level before thirty. Think of this as prior experience.”
Crazy, calling this consideration...
He's just sore about losing, the narrow-minded bastard.
Damn it, we're screwed.
This damned old monster had picked the perfect moment.
At this rate, he might really end up in the Justice Alliance infirmary.
“Now, let's see you take this! Hahaha!”
Shuwaaaang!
Grinning so smugly while unleashing such a technique.
Jinmu panicked at the lively sword strikes slicing through the air like a flopping fish and charged forward.
Kang! Kkang!
No respite.
The strikes, moving solely by his will, relentlessly pursued Jinmu without pause.
While Jinmu dashed about, sweating through his feet, pouring out every Wudang sword art he knew, the damned Cheol Jiryang stood leisurely afar, merely twitching his fingers.
Jinmu ground his teeth inwardly. This was the terror of Qi Sword Control Technique.
First, unpredictability.
Freely floating in the air, who knew where it would strike from.
Second, no restrictions on movement.
All sword arts unfolded exactly as the user imagined. And that imaginer was the Sword Saint Cheol Jiryang.
Fuck...
“Hahaha! Take this too!”
Don't.
“Oh ho! Impressive! Truly impressive! Uhahaha!”
Don't, you bastard!
Unlike Jinmu, who wanted to cry, Cheol Jiryang was exhilarated.
Even without full power, deploying Qi Sword Control Technique, yet Jinmu held on.
Combining Wudang's sword arts, footwork, staff methods, fist arts, leg techniques into a seamless new martial art.
“This is truly amazing! My body's itching; I can't hold back!”
Pang!
He moved.
Already barely dodging, now Cheol Jiryang gripped a pure-ten sword force of deep blue and lunged at Jinmu.
Ah, we're fucked.
Thud!
He blocked dozens of strikes, but that was the limit.
The moment he parried the strike aiming for his nape, a heavy blow slammed into Jinmu's twisted abdomen.
“Kuhk!”
He nearly vomited. That single fist strike shattered his balance.
But... who said he'd take it lying down!
Biting back the pain, Jinmu twisted his torso back with dogged tenacity, swinging his elbow.
C crack!
Cheol Jiryang's hand knife followed, chopping the back of Jinmu's neck.
Damn it. Still too much.
As consciousness faded, Jinmu hurled every curse he knew at Cheol Jiryang.
“...”
Cheol Jiryang's smile vanished as he watched Jinmu collapse limply.
He felt a chill from that final strike.
The tip of Jinmu's elbow, stopping an inch from his vital point.
A palm thrust without preparation motion.
The technique Yang Sobang mentioned.
If he hadn't severed it with his hand knife, who knows what might have happened.
'Heh, in that situation?'
Offering flesh to strike bone. Flesh severed, bone broken.
Aiming for the enemy's life while taking wounds was easy in words, hard in practice.
Especially after taking a direct hit from his fist.
Not a martial art. Pure instinct.
'Like a wild beast.'
Jinmu felt less like a Wudang Taoist and more like a beast roaming the peaks freely.
'Heh! And he's barely in his twenties.'
Cheol Jiryang gazed down at the fallen Jinmu.
'Heh heh. To make me think I need to train harder in my old age. In ten years—no, five—Wudang's name might echo across the Central Plains, thanks to this kid...'
A smile returned to Cheol Jiryang's face.
“Alliance Leader.”
Deng Yeoping, Zhuge Hyeopjin, and Zhuge Sansan hurried over.
“Grand Strategist.”
“Yes, Alliance Leader.”
“We can't recruit Taoist Jinmu, it seems.”
“Pardon?”
Zhuge Hyeopjin's face twisted at Cheol Jiryang's words.
“Alliance Leader!”
Jinmu's prowess far exceeded expectations.
He was essential for their goals ahead. Not just for Dragon-Phoenix Pavilion, but to prepare for those called 'Palace' who might appear later.
“Grand Strategist, wild beasts can't be caged.”
Cheol Jiryang smiled broadly.
“This one's like that.”
What had he sensed?
Not just Zhuge Hyeopjin, even Deng Yeoping tilted his head in confusion.
“But keeping him in the Alliance would benefit us more.”
“True. For fights against Moon Sun Cult or Evil Hegemony Heaven, and preparing for those 'Palace' folk. But no need to cage him. He's a Wudang Sword, isn't he? Just let him roam free.”
“...”
Cheol Jiryang patted Zhuge Hyeopjin's shoulder and turned to Zhuge Sansan.
“Sansan.”
“Yes, Alliance Leader.”
Zhuge Sansan answered in her hoarse voice.
“Take him to the Infinite Branch Hall to rest. And when he wakes, tell him I received Taoist Jinmu's greeting very well. Hahaha!”