Chapter 77
Chapter 77
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: Who is the Culprit?
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Han Ibi narrowed his eyes and stared at the graph once more.
"Ah! There's a pattern after all. A pattern unlike any ordinary martial art..."
That was when it happened.
Thwack!
With a massive thud, Jong Ri-hyeok slid backward across the ground.
He'd barely dodged a direct hit, but he'd taken a solid blow to the back.
The force was so immense that he was shoved several jang all the way to Han Ibi's position.
Watching the scene, Han Ibi thought,
"Whoa... that's some insane internal energy. Can't even compare it to the two of us."
At that moment, Jong Ri-hyeok, his face twisted in excruciating pain, shouted toward Han Ibi.
"What the hell are you doing just standing there? You think I'm sparring leisurely right now?"
But even then, the iron tongso came sweeping back in relentlessly.
It was clear the intent was to overwhelm without giving a moment's respite.
Jong Ri-hyeok had no choice but to grip his sword anew and dive back into that brutal barrage of swings.
Then, a flash of insight struck Han Ibi's mind.
A shiver raced down his spine.
"Music."
Han Ibi thought again.
"This is melody."
The bizarre trajectory of that savage assault was none other than a "tune."
In other words, the peaks and troughs created by the vibrations of "sound," along with the arrangement of "rhythm," lay hidden behind what had seemed like the irregular "Tongso Staff Method."
To confirm his theory, Han Ibi activated his Eagle's Eye Technique once more and began analyzing the trajectories.
No doubt about it.
Everything matched his hunch perfectly.
The middle-aged man's next swing aligned exactly with Han Ibi's prediction.
Finally, Han Ibi had uncovered the rule behind that seemingly chaotic clubbing.
It was all thanks to the Eagle's Eye Technique.
Han Ibi thought,
"He's performing right now. Playing music doesn't require blowing into it with your mouth. Right now... he's playing a melody through his martial arts. The piece he's performing builds like a storm, then suddenly gives a breath of relief. That moment is the turning point where this music's 'theme' repeats. Normally, an enemy would be too tense to act... but now I've grasped the flow of the trajectories and can predict the future to some extent."
That was when it happened.
Thwack!
A massive sound rang out.
In the end, Jong Ri-hyeok's left shoulder took a direct hit from the iron tongso.
Jong Ri-hyeok let out a silent scream amid the deep agony.
At this rate, the next swing would shatter his skull.
It was time for him to step in for real.
His thoughts had been long, but his action was instantaneous.
Han Ibi immediately thrust his Hanjo Sword in a surprise stab at the middle-aged man's flank.
The man flinched in surprise and defended his side.
Clang!
Unlike before, he flailed about, barely managing to block.
Both the middle-aged man and Han Ibi grimaced simultaneously.
But the reasons were polar opposites.
The middle-aged man because Han Ibi had pierced his opening...
While Han Ibi grimaced with regret over how his attack had shattered this beautiful melody.
"What... am I serious right now...? Beautiful?"
Han Ibi was startled by his own thoughts.
Yes...
Paradoxically, through his trajectory analysis, Han Ibi had unwittingly become captivated by this silent music that only he could perceive.
The middle-aged man's martial art appeared crude and disorderly on the surface.
Yet beneath it lay a tune so... profoundly beautiful.
And the one who had ruined that beautiful melody was none other than himself.
A single break could collapse the whole. At least in music.
Music was a high art form sustained by the harmony born from variations in pitch.
Han Ibi's crude disruption had marred this great masterpiece entirely.
Lost in these thoughts, Han Ibi hesitated, and the middle-aged man resumed his silent martial performance.
Now, the target had fully shifted from Jong Ri-hyeok to Han Ibi.
The middle-aged man's molars ground tight.
His cheek twitched outward.
He seemed seriously pissed.
Han Ibi opened his Eight Trigrams status window.
The steps for "Kun" and "Li" lit up simultaneously.
Swish!
The iron tongso grazed past Han Ibi's forehead by a hair's breadth.
If not for the Hanjo Sword's "swift" attribute, his head would've been smashed flat, sprawling him on the ground.
Han Ibi felt a chill down his spine.
Such clashes repeated several more times.
Jong Ri-hyeok, tending his wounds nearby, sensed something odd and said,
"Why aren't you attacking?"
Indeed.
Anyone watching would find the situation bizarre.
But Han Ibi had his reasons.
"How can I smash this stiff bastard without destroying this beautiful music?"
He had to admit it first.
That he wanted to keep listening to this song.
This absurd desire to win without ruining the music.
"What a weird thing... Haven't listened to music since college graduation, too busy scraping by..."
Still, he couldn't die praising the music.
Han Ibi began slipping in simple thrusts from the Light Breeze Ocean-Splitting Sword, targeting gaps with his Hanjo Sword.
Few attacks, but their timing was impeccable, striking vulnerabilities perfectly.
Yet the middle-aged man showed no agitation, continuing his forms.
The true essence of his "Tongso Staff Method" was the "Sound Soul Form Method."
Each form appeared random on the surface.
But concealed within was immense "unity" and "completeness."
If the opponent slipped even once in response... it would spell their doom.
That one chance.
One opportunity was all he needed.
But...
Something felt off. The forms stuttered, creating frustration.
What was this irritating sensation...?
"No way!"
Suddenly, realization dawned.
The source of this unpleasant feeling.
He was being disrupted.
More precisely, Han Ibi was twisting the "key" and interfering.
Playing the same music but shifting the pitches.
That was Han Ibi's method!
Han Ibi curled his lips into a smirk and thought,
"I'll play it instead. A low-class show-off like you doesn't deserve to lead this beautiful melody!"
But mirroring trajectories wouldn't end it.
Han Ibi inverted the melody and rhythm, performing his own silent tune.
The middle-aged man finally panicked, thrown into chaos.
"How... how does this punk know the Sound Soul Form Method?!"
Did his master secretly teach it to someone else without him knowing...? Or...
All sorts of wild speculations raced through his mind.
Until now, it had just seemed like crude clubbing... no, tongso battering.
But clashing with Han Ibi's swordplay exposed its patterns to all.
The middle-aged man, who had seemed utterly unflappable, couldn't help but falter now.
Amid the fierce exchange, he said,
"How... how do you know it?"
"Know what?"
"How do you know this martial art...? Do you know my master...?"
"I don't even know who you are—how would I know your master?"
"Then how...?"
"Oh, right! I do know one thing."
The middle-aged man's eyes narrowed.
Han Ibi continued,
"That it's ridiculously simple. Like a kid's level, maybe?"
"What do you...?"
Han Ibi could tell.
Thanks to the Eagle's Eye Technique, he could "see" the score.
The man's performance was decent, but ultimately just a child's clumsy practice of a master's piece.
Steeling himself, Han Ibi gripped his Hanjo Sword tight.
He preserved the piece's structure while inverting notes and throwing off-beats.
Like an unannounced ad-lib in a live performance...
The middle-aged man's performance began to crumble!
The Hanjo Sword's heavy yet razor-sharp blade started tearing gashes in the man's robes.
Han Ibi was even enjoying it.
Sweeping through space like a score, his sword dance felt utterly fulfilling.
He swung the Hanjo Sword even more fiercely.
Clang! Clang!
Surprisingly, the middle-aged man now spent more time defending against Han Ibi's attacks.
The battle's momentum had flipped completely from the start.
And in an incredibly short time!
No matter the gap in skill, knowing the enemy's trajectories precisely left nothing to fear.
In truth, if Han Ibi had just curbed his reluctance a bit, he could've slain the man ages ago.
But his newfound insight into "swordplay as music" was so thrilling and fun he couldn't stop.
It was like using the man as a sparring partner to test his epiphany.
Thus, Han Ibi's face flushed bright red with excitement.
But to Jong Ri-hyeok watching from the side, clueless, it looked like Han Ibi was in dire straits.
Any second now, that iron flute might smash his head, making him anxious.
Whoosh!
Finally, as soon as Jong Ri-hyeok patched himself up, he joined Han Ibi in the assault.
From the middle-aged man's perspective, it was maddening.
He was already overwhelmed by Han Ibi alone—now backup arrived...
Shortly after Jong Ri-hyeok jumped in, the man fell into clear disadvantage.
But oddly, Han Ibi's expression soured.
Shockingly, he felt annoyed at the interruption to his solo performance.
"Tch tch. Can't exactly tell him to back off... Guess I gotta end this properly now."
Han Ibi expanded his offense, driving toward the performance's climax.
All possible because he knew the enemy's score inside out.
The duel increasingly looked one-sided as time passed.
But in reality, if the middle-aged man had switched scores, he could've turned it around easily.
Yet fear narrows one's vision.
That was his exact situation.
Terror that his martial art was fully exposed stifled any adventurous alternatives.
Sticking to what he believed he did best... that was his only strategy now.
Buoyed, Han Ibi's Hanjo Sword soared high and low, completing the sword dance.
In that razor-edge moment when the man's head seemed about to fly...
Boom!
A loud bang echoed as smoke billowed up.
Jong Ri-hyeok, with his seasoned江湖 experience, yelled,
"Hold your breath...! Stop breathing!"
Hearing the shout, Han Ibi instinctively held his breath.
All movement froze in that split second.
Not missing it, the middle-aged man bolted away.
His white robes torn in places, stained with his own blood—a pathetic sight.
Compared to his dashing entrance like a descending immortal, his exit was utterly shabby.
Stunned by the unexpected move, Han Ibi took a step to pursue...
But Jong Ri-hyeok blocked his path.
Leading Han Ibi under the watchtower away from the smoke, he said,
"Guys using poison—better be cautious. Right now, tending to the sect members comes first."
Han Ibi nodded.
(To be continued)