Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Thunder Dragon's Debut
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A middle-aged man clad in a magnificent fur robe let out a hearty laugh and spoke.
"Kyojun! What the hell is that? Get up already!"
"Yes! Sect Leader!"
Upon hearing the Iron Blood Sect Leader's words, Kyojun mustered strength throughout his body and rose to his feet. The figure standing at the forefront was undoubtedly the supreme authority of the Twin Sword Families and the overlord dominating Luoyang's martial world—the Iron Blood Sect Leader. The six experts arrayed behind him were the sect's elders, and those behind the elders were the hall leaders upholding the Iron Blood Sect's foundations.
Judging by their martial prowess and numbers, they seemed in no way inferior to the Nine Great Sects and Eight Great Schools. I swallowed hard without realizing it, and the Iron Blood Sect Leader gazed at me with leisurely eyes before speaking.
"Baek Woong, was it? Your business isn't over yet."
"......"
I racked my brain. What was the reason for the Iron Blood Sect Leader's sudden appearance and address? Naturally, he had some ulterior motive. I rolled my eyes this way and that before replying.
"No, my business is done. The match ended in my victory, just as I wanted, didn't it?"
My finger pointed toward Kyojun's broken blade. Hall Leader Kyojun's face flushed red with shame upon seeing the blade lodged in the wall. In other words, I was asserting that my business had been settled right here and attempting to withdraw swiftly.
'I did well to wrap it up quickly. If I'd just waited around, I'd have been forced to face one of them without question.'
It was half bullying, but I figured it might work. In a duel, the challenger held priority by custom. On top of that, my calculation was that the renowned Iron Blood Sect Leader wouldn't casually try to kill me.
The Iron Blood Sect Leader stood there in silence, arms crossed. Then, out of nowhere, he turned to Hall Leader Kyojun and said.
"Hey, Kyojun! Did you lose?"
Kyojun bowed his head in embarrassment before composing himself and answering.
"Yes."
"Good, well done. It's a relief you didn't die."
"......"
"Then, Baek Woong, prepare for the next match."
Huh?!
What the hell?!
I panicked at the sight of the Iron Blood Sect Leader casually addressing me like an old friend and naturally urging on the next match. It was an attitude that brooked no argument whatsoever. Naturally, since there was nothing to gain from further matches here, I protested.
"What are you talking about? The match is over, so I'm leaving the Iron Blood Sect now."
The Iron Blood Sect Leader laughed. His mouth curved into a smile, but his eyes betrayed no change.
"Hahaha... What nonsense is that? If you're so insistent, then repay your debts right now."
"Debts? What are you on about?"
The Iron Blood Sect Leader glanced around the training hall. He stroked the splintered wooden floors and walls here and there before speaking.
"All this was smashed by your Lion's Roar, wasn't it? Pay up for everything."
"......!!"
"The Iron Blood Sect is demanding compensation from Baek Woong right now. Don't you get it?"
I nearly let my sword slip from my hand in utter exhaustion.
What bullshit!
Sure, the building had taken some damage from my Lion's Roar, but that was just par for the course in a jianghu duel—why the hell should I foot the bill? I opened my mouth to protest on the spot, but in that instant, I felt hundreds of gazes stabbing into me.
Ssshh—
"......"
In that moment, it hit me. This was enemy territory, and the dozens—no, hundreds—of warriors gathered here were primed to swarm me and slit my throat at the drop of a hat. The Iron Blood Sect might be classified as righteous faction, but at their core, they were sword-slinging killers; if they decided to bury one man, it'd be over in a flash.
The Iron Blood Sect Leader had no intention of settling for monetary "repayment." I wasn't fool enough to miss that.
As I swallowed hard, the Iron Blood Sect Leader spoke.
"I won't tolerate winning and running. This is the Iron Blood Sect."
"Urk... What bullshit is this."
"You'll need to fight at least two more times. Win both, and I promise—no compensation required."
"And if I refuse?"
"Got some balls."
A cruel smile crept across the Iron Blood Sect Leader's lips.
"If you can escape from here—and if you're up for crossing swords with the Iron Blood Sect down the line—that's fine by me! It'll give us a nice jianghu jaunt for once."
I realized I had no choice. I might escape here on pure internal energy, but I couldn't even guess the injuries I'd sustain. The Sect Leader's martial arts, and the elders' too, were perilously close to the martial world's pinnacle. Even if I got lucky and fled, I'd spend the rest of my life hounded like a mad dog by the Iron Blood Sect bastards. And I simply didn't have the stamina or margin for that.
'Damn... Damn...!!'
I saw through the Iron Blood Sect Leader's game.
[We don't let you win and run.]
He'd shown up to stack the deck and force the matches to end in the Iron Blood Sect's victory. No doubt the countless challengers before me had managed to topple one or two sect warriors early on, only to lose after these half-threatened consecutive bouts. The Iron Blood Sect had probably guarded their honor this way from day one.
Maybe it was smarter to throw the match here and bolt. But whoever they sent for my next two fights would come out aiming to cripple or kill me for sure. Either path was a tightrope walk; my head throbbed like it might burst.
I'd underestimated the Iron Blood Sect—and the entire martial world. In a wuxia novel, this was the point where the Sect Leader might admire my skills or spirit, let me go with magnanimity—maybe share a drink or even recruit me into the sect.
But reality? To the Sect Leader, I was just a strong ronin who needed removing, nothing more. And the jianghu pulled dirty tricks without hesitation to protect its honor.
'Am I screwed either way?'
No options left.
Die with a blade in my back mid-escape, or die in the fight.
'Fine then—bet it all on my luck.'
Steel myself for death, I said.
"Fine. But one request."
"What?"
"Weapons. A good spear and a good sword."
"......"
Murmurs rippled.
The Iron Blood Sect disciples stirred. In this situation, me asking for weapons must've looked bizarre. Maintaining such calm at the crossroads of life? Even the Sect Leader's eyes now crinkled with amusement, unlike before.
"You're one hell of an interesting guy. No sect, for real?"
"Why keep asking? I told you—no."
"Remarkable... Truly remarkable. Even the righteous factions' three great eccentrics couldn't easily raise someone like you."
With a sigh, the Iron Blood Sect Leader looked around and bellowed.
"Hey! Someone fetch a spear and a sword."
His command held absolute sway here. The moment it fell, several disciples bolted off, soon returning with precisely what I'd asked for: prime spear and sword. The Sect Leader handed the pair to me.
"This do?"
"More than enough."
No nitpicks possible—these were elite weapons. Brand-new, gleaming silver, forged from top-grade steel. The kind even high officers would wield; nothing to complain about on principle.
Moments later, the Iron Blood Sect Leader snapped his fingers.
"First Elder. You're up for the match."
"Understood, Sect Leader."
Swish.
The man dubbed First Elder adjusted his square hat and stepped forward. Quite short, his face looked tiny next to my full height. Drawing his oversized longsword seemed almost clumsy in proportion.
"I am Jin Pyong, Ghost Shadow Swordsman, First Elder of the Iron Blood Sect. Let's have a fine match, Baek Woong."
I had no clue how strong the Ghost Shadow Swordsman Jin Pyong truly was.
Which meant his martial attainment had reached such a profound realm that even my insight couldn't fathom it. All my qi sense picked up was raw internal energy potency—and even that was tough to gauge precisely, as he had thoroughly subdued his presence to wield the still sword.
One thing I could tell: he was the type to finish fights in a single blow.
'Damn it. Dying here?'
My mind reeled. Random thoughts flooded in, but one burned clear: I couldn't die here eating a loss. Sword gripped awkwardly, I asked Jin Pyong.
"I'm from some backwater village, so I don't know your reputation. By any chance, do you possess arts comparable to a Huashan Sect elder?"
"......!!"
Jin Pyong's face registered shock, and those nearby looked baffled. Probing a warrior's prowess so directly was rude among martial artists—not to mention awkward for the man himself to answer. As Jin Pyong hesitated, the Iron Blood Sect Leader beside him burst into laughter.
"Kahahaha... Talk about guts. I'll field that one.
By my eye, First Elder's skill stands equal to any Nine Great Sects elder! Against Huashan Sect, it'd end in mutual destruction; a Zhongnan Sect elder, and he'd hold the edge."
Ghost Shadow Swordsman Jin Pyong shot the Sect Leader a glance, his face faintly flushed with genuine embarrassment.
"Sect Leader, you're gilding my face too much."
"What's the harm? It's the truth—no one can argue."
"...My thanks."
"Now, focus on the match."
They traded words, but my gut burned.
Nine Great Sects elder level!
A bona fide Peak Expert. Rare as they come in the world, but par for the course for an officer in a powerhouse like the Iron Blood Sect.
Spear and sword in hand, I hesitated a moment before stabbing the spear into the ground. Took a deep breath and assumed the proper Thunder Shadow Swordsmanship stance.
'Thunder Spirit Eight Forms is out. Stick to the familiar Thunder Shadow Swordsmanship.'
No question Thunder Spirit Eight Forms outclassed Thunder Shadow Swordsmanship. The spear art's apex offered fluid offense-defense shifts and far greater versatility. I'd trained it relentlessly for that reason, but swords just suited my nature more. After years fighting primarily with the blade, I couldn't half-ass it with spear now.
One thought dominated my mind.
Luck!
Sword aimed, I said.
"Ghost Shadow Swordsman. Yield the first move to this junior?"
"...Was planning to, but you're the first to say it outright today."
Jin Pyong sounded incredulous, but I ignored him and bellowed.
"Hah!"
My body shot toward him like the wind. Moving at double my usual speed, my vision blurred as sword trails like light afterimages etched the air. To ordinary eyes, it'd look like a mere gust—undeniably fast.
Clang!
Yet Ghost Shadow Swordsman Jin Pyong casually swung his massive longsword one-handed, parrying my opener with ease. He swayed slightly—not perfectly smooth—then shed the impact via footwork. A clear chasm from Sword Hall Leader Kyojun, who'd been blasted away on first clash.
Swish.
At once, Jin Pyong's blade tip wriggled like a serpent. I couldn't identify the incoming technique, but leaving it be screamed danger. So I hammered down strong sword like a club on his upper guard. He wove in sword essence to deflect, then his eyes flashed.
"Chaha!"
Thwack.
"Urk..."
Shoulder ripped open in agony, I bit my lip and fell back. His blade had surged serpent-swift, unblockable. I'd reacted in a split-second to dodge lethal injury, but Jin Pyong's swordsmanship didn't stop—whirling to sever my neck.
I staggered clumsily, then rolled backward into the Naeryeo Ta Gon technique. An ugly rolling dodge, ripe for jianghu mockery, but prime for survival. Mid-tumble, I sprang up on knee-spring tension and unleashed another Thunder Shadow Swordsmanship form—only for Ghost Shadow Swordsman Jin Pyong to deflect it smoothly once more.
In the lull, Jin Pyong spoke.
"Truly astounding internal energy. Swordsmanship's middling, but it keeps you from an easy end."
"No need to mock—I know."
He seemed purely awed by my internal energy.
"As the rumors say, no famed sect could cultivate such power in over fifty years of premier arts... Just how did you acquire it?"
"......"
I gave no reply.
The fight boiled down to internal energy versus swordsmanship. My blade couldn't touch his heel, but my bolstered defense, offense, and agility let me hang on the defensive. Yet every one of Jin Pyong's strikes packed killing intent; one solid hit, and I'd drop dead.
The gulf was palpable now. I'd never imagined my internal energy could weather his sword essence. Proof positive he was a Peak Expert.
"Then, how about this."
Fwoosh.
Jin Pyong muttered, and suddenly azure flame erupted along his blade. In truth, his qi condensed so fiercely it had solidified visible to the eye. Recognizing it, my strength ebbed as I whispered.
"Sword Qi..."
Far beyond mere blade wind; manifesting it turned any weapon into a divine sword, auto-attaining Sword Union. The pinnacle of techniques. I'd witnessed it only twice before: Chief Instructor Jin So-cheong's and the assassin leader's. Sword Qi's terror lay in piercing qi defenses and exploding the body on impact.
But theirs had been refined, clean blade-shapes—not this flickering flame. Curiosity won out; I asked.
"Why's yours like that? Others were blade-shaped."
Ghost Shadow Swordsman Jin Pyong's brow twitched. He answered in a tone like a death-row gift.
"Means I'm stronger than them. Sword Qi evolves: stronger, it passes Sword Flame to reach Sword Gang."
"......"
So they called this stage Sword Flame.
Why hadn't Jin So-cheong taught me? I concluded he'd deemed Sword Qi or Flame beyond me, so no point. Fair assumption—I'd never live to use it.
'End of the line here...'
In final defiance, I asked.
"Beat you, and who's next?"
"Won't happen."
Too curt. But I bellowed desperately.
"Tell me anyway."
"...The Sect Leader would face you."
"How much stronger is the Sect Leader?"
"What pointless curiosity. In greater Luoyang, only Huashan Sect Leader and Supreme Sword Sect Leader stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Don't presume to compare at your level."
Swoooosh.
He'd answered everything—but at the cost of stoking Ghost Shadow Swordsman Jin Pyong's wrath, it seemed. To him, a nobody like me uttering the Sect Leader's name was presumptuous. Same end either way, I tightened my sword grip.
"Let's finish this."
Ghost Shadow Swordsman declared firmly and charged this time.
The match concluded precisely at the 350-second mark.
Blade scars whirled everywhere; the training hall lay in ruins like it'd eaten an explosive, not a single intact spot. Blood-drenched head to toe, I staggered with longsword in grip, consciousness fraying at the edges.
I'd resisted with every ounce—but no contest.
My vast internal energy meant nothing; Ghost Shadow Swordsman Jin Pyong, true central plains-traversing Peak Expert, commanded at least sixty years' cultivation to deflect my strikes. His Sword Flame even repelled them outright.
Ghost Shadow Swordsman Jin Pyong stared silently at the two wounds on his shoulder and arm. Then, in praise, he said.
"Hone that swordsmanship ten more years, and I wouldn't have been your match."
"......"
"Farewell."
Slash!
A foul foreign sensation hit briefly, then my vision vaulted to the ceiling. Willess, the training hall ceiling flashed into view for a moment.
This was my third death.