Your Voice Won’t Reach Me. (1)
I want to ask them. I wanted to show this scene to all those people who always went on about how you had to do your best no matter what enemy you faced, and ask them one thing.
After seeing this, do you still dare to claim your fighting spirit wouldn’t break?
Namgung Dowi stared, dazed, at the swirling demonic energy, the red plum blossom petals, and the surging blue flames.
Is this really what it looks like when two human beings fight?
This was less like two martial artists testing each other’s strength and more like a scene ripped straight out of mythology.
As the legitimate heir of the Namgung Clan, he could understand it. He knew it well in his head, because his father had told him countless times since he was a child. Martial arts were all fundamentally similar from beginning to end, but once they crossed a certain threshold, they transformed into something entirely different.
And yet... Namgung Dowi was certain now. Even Namgung Hwang, the man who had once told him that, would not have reacted any differently than he was if he were seeing this with his own eyes.
BOOOOOOM!
The sound of power colliding and exploding hammered at his eardrums over and over. If he hadn’t protected himself with internal energy, his eardrums would surely have been shredded.
As a swordsman of the Namgung Clan, he had believed without question that when it came to raw force, no martial art in the world could surpass theirs. But the pride he had carried all his life shattered in an instant before the sight before him.
And what tormented Namgung Dowi most of all was...
How can they charge straight into that?
Cheong Myeong and Jang Il-so had thrown themselves without hesitation into that hellish storm of demonic energy. That had been what had haunted him ever since they reached Hangzhou.
Was this something anyone could do simply by being strong? No, it wasn’t. The desire to survive was something both the strong and the weak possessed. It was an instinct you were born with. So to run with your own two feet into that hell, where even looking at it made your knees go weak, required something beyond strength alone.
And then, in that very instant—
Whoooooosh!
The demonic energy, which had swelled without end and raged like a storm, began to collapse beneath the red flowers and blue flames. Then, all at once, it vanished from sight.
“Ah!”
And Namgung Dowi saw it.
Cheong Myeong, charging at Dan Ja-gang with terrifying speed.
CLAAANG!
The sword, drawn upward from below, collided head-on with Dan Ja-gang’s hand.
Clang! Clangclang!
Grating, vicious sounds rang out again and again, and fragments of demonic energy and sword qi scattered in all directions like sparks.
Dan Ja-gang’s face twisted. The moment he reached out to seize the sword that had touched his palm, Cheong Myeong’s blade shot backward as if it had been an illusion. Then, in the blink of an eye, it split into dozens of sword images and poured down over Dan Ja-gang’s entire body.
Dan Ja-gang’s hand split into dozens in response.
Between flicking only the tip of a sword to create change and swinging a hand directly, there was no need to even think about which would be easier. And yet Dan Ja-gang’s hand kept up with the changes Cheong Myeong was throwing at him without much difficulty.
But only for a moment.
Flash!
The divided tips of Cheong Myeong’s sword all trembled at once, then split again into thousands of petals as they surged at Dan Ja-gang.
Dan Ja-gang’s eyes filled with shock.
Here?
He couldn’t block it. No one could stop such a torrent when it was pouring down like that, not even with their hands.
Dan Ja-gang drew back the hand he had been extending and roared. At the same time, the demonic energy surging from his body crushed the whirling petals all around him and forced them down.
Individually, they’re not strong!
He poured even more internal energy into the demonic energy.
Flash!
But then, through the spinning maqi, a pure white sword blade suddenly thrust out.
What?
It was an attack Dan Ja-gang, of all people, had never imagined. He hurriedly raised his hand and barely managed to block it. But that was all.
“Guh!”
Dan Ja-gang was forced back step by step.
Cheong Myeong gave him no chance to catch his breath. When Dan Ja-gang reflexively launched a palm strike, Cheong Myeong dropped low and slipped away, skimming just above the ground like a swallow. Then he closed in tight against Dan Ja-gang.
“You bastard!”
BOOOOM!
Demonic energy exploded from Dan Ja-gang once more and shot directly at Cheong Myeong. It was an attack infused with the certainty that no one charging in at that speed could possibly evade it.
But at that moment, Cheong Myeong drove Amhyang Maehwageom into the ground.
The sword that had bent as if it might snap sprang back with elastic force, and using that recoil, Cheong Myeong launched himself high into the air.
BOOOOM!
Dan Ja-gang’s demonic energy tore the ground to pieces instead. Before the thunderous blast had even died away, dozens of strands of sword qi burst from the tip of Cheong Myeong’s blade.
Red as blood, the sword qi shot toward Dan Ja-gang at blinding speed, intent on shredding him apart in a single stroke.
Sloppy.
A cold light flickered in Dan Ja-gang’s eyes.
As if some crude trick like this would work...
But then, a massive whooshing sound rose behind him.
What?
He spun around in alarm, and there, racing toward him with terrifying speed, were ten golden bracelets, clear as day.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
The earth was ripped up and launched high into the air, and the soil that had been forced upward came crashing back down a moment later like a landslide.
Whoosh.
The bracelets returned to Jang Il-so, settling back around his wrist with a crisp, clear sound.
“Hmm.”
Jang Il-so gave a little hum as if he found it interesting, but his eyes were dark and cold.
“At this point, I’m really curious what on earth your body is made of.”
Dan Ja-gang emerged from the shower of earth. Despite being caught in such a massive explosion, there wasn’t a single wound to be seen.
But the look in his eyes had clearly changed since the start of the fight.
So this is Zhongyuan?
Dan Ja-gang’s gaze fixed on one point.
Especially that swordsman.
Cheong Myeong was watching him, catching his roughened breath. The sword Cheong Myeong had unleashed just moments ago still remained vivid in Dan Ja-gang’s mind.
To those with little understanding of martial arts, it would have seemed like nothing more than a series of chain attacks unleashed in the blink of an eye. But hidden within them was an absurd upward progression of technique.
Strength to change, change to illusion, and then speed.
In the time it took to take a single breath, he had poured out four entirely different methods.
It wasn’t difficult for someone who specialized in fast swordplay to unleash dozens of quick strikes. But for such a swordsman to suddenly release a powerful blade style, then shift into countless changes, was nearly impossible.
No—most swordsmen spent their entire lives refining a single form of use and still failed to reach its absolute peak. And yet that swordsman was accomplishing the impossible as though it were nothing.
The confusion one felt when the opponent’s sword suddenly changed was something no one could imagine unless they had experienced it themselves.
And then... Dan Ja-gang’s eyes moved to Jang Il-so.
Those eyes like a venomous snake, and that wicked, unnatural aura—both of them kept irritating him. Merely meeting his gaze made it feel as if a poisoned dagger were already aimed at his back.
The vicious killing intent, something he had rarely encountered even within the Demonic Sect, transcended the level of martial skill and froze a man in place.
If he thought about the meaning of the word “threatening,” that man’s presence was even more aggravating than that swordsman’s. Because if Dan Ja-gang showed even the slightest opening, those fangs of a poisonous serpent would without hesitation sink right into it.
The only thing those two, so unlike one another, had in common was this:
Skilled.
Anyone could tell from the sword they drew, from the way they instinctively searched for an opening in their opponent. Both of them were terrifyingly battle-hardened...
CRASH!
In that instant, Cheong Myeong became a beam of light and shot toward Dan Ja-gang. He hadn’t missed the slightest opening created when Dan Ja-gang’s gaze shifted to Jang Il-so.
Flash!
Cheong Myeong’s sword, wrapped in sword qi the color of sunset, fell toward Dan Ja-gang’s head.
That obvious trick!
Dan Ja-gang reached out with a hand covered in demonic energy, trying to seize the incoming sword. But then—
Whoosh!
With a sound like flames igniting, Cheong Myeong’s sword blurred. And then it passed straight through Dan Ja-gang’s hand.
What...?
Slaaaash!
Cheong Myeong’s sword regained its form above Dan Ja-gang’s head. Then it twisted like a snake again and shot toward Dan Ja-gang’s throat.
Dan Ja-gang hurriedly jerked his neck aside to avoid it.
“Kuh!”
This wasn’t some sort of spell. When Dan Ja-gang tried to block the sword, Cheong Myeong had shifted the blade path at the instant of impact and slipped past his hand. The whole sequence was so fast and natural that it only looked as if the sword had vanished.
Easy enough to explain with words, impossible in actual practice. This wasn’t even the realm of technique anymore. It was closer to divine skill.
Flash!
The sword that had barely grazed past Dan Ja-gang’s throat stopped dead in midair as though it were a lie, then swept horizontally as if it meant to cut his throat open on the spot.
Thrust, stop, cut.
Those should have been three separate motions, yet the whole process was so swift and seamless that it felt as though they had always been one. If there was a better teaching example for explaining how the attacks aimed at an opponent came together to form a single technique, then he had never heard of it.
Clatter! Clangclangclang!
In that moment, Dan Ja-gang seized the sword that had come for his throat with both hands. He clearly understood that letting Cheong Myeong run wild would be bad for him as well. His blackened grip tightened, locking the sword in place so it could not move an inch.
You bastard!
With the sword trapped in his hand, Dan Ja-gang hauled back with all his strength, intent on smashing a fist straight into Cheong Myeong’s face.
But Cheong Myeong simply let go of the sword in midair.
Dan Ja-gang, who had been exerting all his strength against resistance he believed was still there, staggered for a moment.
“No you don’t!”
Then a chilling voice came from behind him.
Jang Il-so’s red robe billowed like a banner.
Crash!
Jang Il-so’s chain strike, driven by a stamping step, poured like a downpour into Dan Ja-gang’s back, while Cheong Myeong, flipping his body in the air, unleashed his chain kick like a waterfall crashing down onto Dan Ja-gang’s head.
“Krrgh!”
Dan Ja-gang instinctively realized that one hand alone would never be enough to deal with this. He hurled the sword he was holding upward and spread both hands. The demonic energy that billowed up like dirty smoke blocked Jang Il-so’s fists and Cheong Myeong’s kicks.
BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM!
Cheong Myeong’s foot, which had unleashed over ten chain kicks in an instant, dropped fiercely. Seeing that, Dan Ja-gang drew up internal energy in a heartbeat—
Tap!
Cheong Myeong suddenly let the force drain from his descending leg, used Dan Ja-gang’s demonic energy as if it were a stepping stone, and vaulted upward to snatch the Amhyang Maehwageom floating in the air.
BOOOOM!
Twisting his body, Cheong Myeong kicked off the air and shot toward Dan Ja-gang like a hawk diving after prey. Killing intent flashed in his eyes.
Then Amhyang Maehwageom slashed downward from above with ferocious force.
Thuuuum.
The tip of the sword touched the ground.
A suffocating silence fell.
And Dan Ja-gang’s eyes trembled wildly for an instant.
Slash!
One of Dan Ja-gang’s shoulders split open with a vicious tear, and blood burst out like a fountain.