Let’s Go Catch Those Wudang Bastards! (5)
Thunk!
Tap!
The two men, having climbed to opposite ends of the cliff and faced each other across the gap, quickly scanned their surroundings.
Before long, Chung Myung’s eyes widened slightly.
“There!”
He could see the place where swords had been thrust into the ground in thick clusters. A few spears and axes were mixed in here and there, but the overwhelming majority were unmistakably swords.
Which meant—
“This really is the Sword Tomb!”
At last, the suspicion that had nagged at him all the way here was put to rest.
So then?
Chung Myung’s eyes darted quickly.
It’s there! Not that junk! Something else!
He couldn’t care less about some divine weapon or whatever. There was only one thing he was after.
That’s right!
In the middle of the densely planted swords, a bulging rock jutted upward.
And on top of it sat a small wooden box.
There was no reason to place a wooden box in the middle of a divine-weapon graveyard. Which meant—
That must be the Honwon Dan!
Whether it contained only the Honwon Dan, the refinement method as well, or just the refinement method, he couldn’t tell. In any case, that wooden box was the target.
The moment Chung Myung was about to move, a heavy voice pinned him in place.
“You’re the Mount Hua Divine Dragon?”
Chung Myung tilted his head up a little. Across from the box, Heo Sanja stood with his sword drawn, glaring at him.
Oh?
Killing intent?
Chung Myung sneered as he opened his mouth.
“Yeah, so what?”
“And you still managed to get here. After making this whole mess?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Heo Sanja’s face twisted.
If Chung Myung hadn’t seized the treasure map from Mu Jin and spread it all over Namyeong, they wouldn’t have had to go through this hell. And Mount Hua would never have entered this place in the first place.
But those bastards had poured poison into the well and still managed to reach this place in the end.
Whether to call it impressive or just vile was hard to say.
“I acknowledge your ability. But this is as far as you go. Retreat quietly. I will not show mercy today. No matter that you’re only a third-generation disciple, if you insist on fighting me, I will cut off your head.”
“Whoa, scary.”
Chung Myung let out a flippant laugh.
“But don’t you think saying that is kind of weird?”
“...Hm?”
There was a mocking smile at the corner of Chung Myung’s mouth.
“You’re already radiating killing intent all over the place. Isn’t that what you really want? For me to jump at you so you can slice me up nice and neat right here?”
“....”
Heo Sanja said nothing.
Because he had realized that might be his true intention after all.
Am I really seeing that child as such a threat?
In terms of sheer viciousness, he shouldn’t have been all that dangerous. No matter how clever the boy was, compared to a descendant of the Zhuge Clan or people who specialized in military strategy, he ought to be less troublesome.
But the moment he actually laid eyes on Chung Myung, his thoughts changed.
Let’s admit it.
That bastard was dangerous.
Of course, even among the Mu and Jin generations, Wudang’s disciples were not people to be looked down on. But when it came to that brat, comparison was impossible.
They were simply not cut from the same cloth.
If he allowed that boy to keep growing unchecked, one day Mount Hua might well devour Wudang whole.
At this moment, Heo Sanja was feeling the same emotion Sama Seung of the Southern Edge Sect had felt long ago—no, even stronger than the fear and murderous intent Sama Seung had once experienced.
“Retreat.”
Heo Sanja said sternly.
“You’re right. I am no longer following the Dao. So do not make me commit a sin. You shake me that much. Enough to make the long years of cultivation I have built collapse!”
Oh?
Chung Myung looked at Heo Sanja with interest.
If the roles were reversed, what would he do?
Well, me? There’s no one stronger than me anyway, so I wouldn’t be acting like that in the first place.
The best choice here was to kill Chung Myung. In the midst of such chaos, no one could hold him accountable for a death.
If things went badly, he might be condemned by the world, but there was no reason to trade practical gain for the fear of criticism.
But Heo Sanja was urging Chung Myung to withdraw once more. He meant that even if Chung Myung might threaten Wudang in the future, he would not kill a young Daoist disciple now.
So Wudang is still Wudang, huh?
Even after seeing every ugly thing this world had to offer on the way here, they still held to their principles. That old elder was showing exactly why Wudang’s name still rang so loudly under heaven.
But.
“Like hell I’m backing off.”
Chung Myung stepped forward instead, and a storm-like aura burst from Heo Sanja’s body.
“You refuse my favor, and—”
“Ugh, enough with the favor crap. You’re always half drunk from all that lousy sacramental wine anyway, so stop spouting nonsense and just fight already.”
“You little—!”
Heo Sanja clenched his teeth.
When had he ever been spoken to with such filthy disrespect by some brat?
I warned him enough.
That thought only made him feel calmer.
He had tried to suppress the urge to cut off that brat’s head on the spot and let him go kindly, but if the boy was going to behave like this, then he no longer needed to hold back.
“Taaaat!”
With no more words needed, Heo Sanja charged.
Chung Myung also rushed toward him.
The two of them launched themselves over the densely planted swords at the same time.
Chwaaaaaak!
It looked as though a swath of blue silk had been unfurled in the air. Brilliant sword aura surged toward Chung Myung. It was similar to Mu Jin’s, but the level was entirely different.
Chung Myung could not fight this one the way he had fought the others.
His opponent was a Wudang elder. The strongest man he had met since awakening in this body.
Strength gathered in Chung Myung’s hand as he gripped his sword.
Still charging forward, he kicked off the hilt of a sword beneath his foot and twisted his body.
Chwaaaak!
The blue sword aura narrowly sliced past the front of his robe. As the fabric was cut away, a cold sensation stabbed into his chest.
This is no joke!
If this had been the Chung Myung of the past, he would have blown that attack away with a single gesture. But for the current Chung Myung, even this sword aura was threatening enough.
More than that, the tremendous internal energy embedded in it made his whole body tense on instinct.
If it lands, I won’t even have bones left to pick up.
Those idiots who claimed Wudang used soft sword energy needed their mouths sewn shut.
Soft?
Was it soft when it smashed a person into pulp? Was that what soft meant?
No matter what style of sword it pursued, there was not a shred of restraint in this blade. On the contrary, it was packed with the intention to smash him to pieces properly.
Otherwise, why would he swing it with such force that even a brushing strike carried enough power to tear a person into five separate parts?
“You wanna play, huh?!”
Flames lit in Chung Myung’s eyes.
Chwaaaak! Chwaaaak! Chwaaaaaak!
Like a strip of silk being endlessly drawn out, sword aura after sword aura flew toward him without pause.
“Hah!”
With a short shout, Chung Myung instead hurled his body toward the incoming sword energy. Then he leapt, planted a foot against it, and used the force to propel himself forward.
“What?”
Heo Sanja was so shocked his heart nearly shot up into his throat.
He kicked sword aura?
He wasn’t even sending energy back to meet it. He was stepping on sword aura and running straight forward? Sword aura wasn’t some wooden plank floating in the air—was that even possible in any sane world?
Just what kind of monster is this?
What monstrous control.
It was a realm no one could even dream of unless they could handle energy as naturally as their own limbs. It was something even Heo Sanja could not have attempted.
There was only one meaning to that.
He didn’t know how deep the boy’s internal strength or swordsmanship ran, but in terms of energy control alone, that young Mount Hua Divine Dragon was undoubtedly superior to Heo Sanja.
He had no idea how such a thing was possible, but he could not deny what his own eyes had seen.
Even as Heo Sanja was still reeling from shock, Chung Myung was already closing in rapidly.
“You little shit!”
Heo Sanja roared and rushed forward. Then he brought his sword down on Chung Myung, who was charging with all the sword energy he could muster.
KWAAAAAAANG!
The burst of force swept across the surroundings. The swords embedded in the ground trembled violently and began to slowly rise out of the earth.
“Cough!”
Chung Myung spat blood from his mouth.
He had blocked it. He had even diverted part of the impact aside. And yet Heo Sanja’s sword still shook his insides completely. It felt as if a great mountain had come crashing down on top of him.
You damn horse-nosed bastard!
Skilled.
Wudang’s sword was, in the end, the sword of softness. A sword that subdued an opponent through gentleness.
But the instant Heo Sanja grasped Chung Myung’s characteristics, he abandoned softness and met Chung Myung with heaviness instead. He had assumed that no matter how many tricks Chung Myung had, the boy could not possibly match him in internal power.
And Heo Sanja’s judgment was dead-on.
No matter how talented Chung Myung was, it was impossible for him to catch up to the internal energy of elders who had spent decades refining theirs. The reason he had not been smashed into paste by a single blow was only because of the special nature of the internal energy he practiced.
Heo Sanja’s eyes wavered as their blades remained locked.
“You blocked it?”
A third-generation disciple.
Not a first-generation disciple, not even a second-generation disciple. Barely old enough to be twenty, just a third-generation disciple. And that third-generation disciple had blocked a sword strike that carried Heo Sanja’s full power.
“So you beating Mu Jin wasn’t a joke after all. What in the world are you made of?”
“Well, it’s not like we’re in the mood for a nice conversation, are we?”
Then maybe you should ease up on the damn sword.
No shame at all. None whatsoever!
Just then, Heo Sanja said in a heavy voice,
“Listen to me.”
Chung Myung, who had been about to keep mocking him, shut his mouth.
“It is forbidden to accept disciples from another sect, but if you wish it, I will use whatever means I can to take you in as a disciple of Wudang. And if you desire, I will even make you a second-generation disciple.”
“Huh?”
“With your talent, relearning martial arts would be but a small obstacle. Come to Wudang. I will make you the future sect leader of Wudang.”
What’s he babbling about?
Chung Myung couldn’t help but snort.
Well, for someone else, it might have been tempting. Wudang, of all people, offering to take you in as a disciple—and even raising your generation by one level.
But the person standing here was Chung Myung.
“No. Has this old man lost his mind? What are you doing, trying to sell yourself into someone else’s sect?”
“If not that, then—”
Heo Sanja bit his lip hard before speaking.
“I will take you as my own disciple! Then you will become Wudang’s first-generation disciple.”
“No thanks.”
Chung Myung smiled faintly as he replied. Even so, Heo Sanja still refused to give up.
“It is praiseworthy to be devoted to the sect you belong to, but a man must also know how to seize opportunity. Being Wudang’s sect leader would be better than being Mount Hua’s disciple!”
“I said no, already!”
Chung Myung tightened his grip on the sword.
“Why not? With your mind, you can’t possibly fail to know what is advantageous!”
“Man, this old guy sure is stubborn.”
“Wudang can offer you far more than Mount Hua ever could.”
“You really don’t get it, do you?”
The corner of Chung Myung’s mouth curled sharply.
“I don’t have the hobby of becoming a disciple of someone weaker than me.”
“...What?”
“And also!”
With a sharp burst of force, Chung Myung knocked Heo Sanja’s sword aside. Then he flipped backward into the air and dropped down at high speed.
“Hyaaah!”
KUUUUUUUUNG!
With the tremendous stomp of his foot, all the swords embedded in the ground shot up into the air at once. Chung Myung kicked the rising divine weapons repeatedly and sent them flying toward Heo Sanja.
“What’s so great about Wudang, anyway!”
“...!”
Chung Myung drew up all his strength.
“I’m going to!”
He kicked a sword away.
“Make Mount Hua!”
The divine weapons, launched one after another, shot toward Heo Sanja like arrows.
“The greatest under heaven!”
In this life!
Absolutely!