Shaolin or Whatever (3)
Hye Yeon’s expression stiffened a little.
Sharp.
The sword?
No.
Every step he took, the stance he held, even the look in his eyes. Nothing about him was dull, not even a little.
Swordsman!
Shaolin might be a temple that was proficient in all eighteen kinds of weapons under heaven, but in truth, Shaolin’s real martial arts came from fist, palm, finger, and foot.
In other words, it was a place that put more emphasis on the body than on weapons.
Which was why, even for someone like Hye Yeon, this was almost his first time facing a swordsman who had reached this level in person.
The killing intent pouring off Yu I-seol pierced into Hye Yeon’s entire body. The sensation was like having needles driven into his skin, and before he knew it, his face had gone hard.
Swish!
With a sound like a bird skimming up off the water, Yu I-seol’s blade, heavy with sharp sword qi, shot straight forward.
In the jianghu, it was a flashy form called Immortal Points the Way, but the truth of it was nothing more than a simple straight thrust.
The most basic of the basic.
And yet when that basic move was unleashed by Yu I-seol’s hand, it was no different from a world-famous ultimate art.
Thud!
Hye Yeon instinctively stamped down with a firm stance.
Then the fist tucked at his side drove straight out with a burst of force.
What he used, too, was nothing more than a simple straight punch.
How many times had he thrown that fist?
Hundreds of thousands of times? Or millions?
Well. He probably couldn’t count them.
An unreasonably repeated strike, one done over and over again until it became second nature, eventually became a form in its own right.
No matter how sublime a technique might be, if it wasn’t honed, it was nothing but a shell.
A straight punch driven out each and every time with all one’s strength became complete by itself.
Without even consciously willing it, the dantian moved, and the rotational force rising from the tips of his feet, which had stamped into the ground, was carried cleanly into his fist.
Then it was released!
Whooosh!
Golden fist qi burst from the end of Hye Yeon’s punch like a raging torrent of water.
Seeing that Yu I-seol, who had been thrusting straight in, twisted her body slightly to the side.
One step to the right.
Whoooosh!
The fist qi brushed past Yu I-seol’s waist by a hair’s breadth.
But that was enough.
Having evaded the fist qi, she lowered her posture and slipped into Hye Yeon’s striking range.
Ordinarily, a swordsman facing a fist artist would keep distance.
But Yu I-seol instead closed it with frightening speed.
Slash!
Lightly, yet precisely, she flicked her wrist. That tiny motion, born at the fingertips, passed through the hilt and reached the sword’s tip, transforming into a sweeping attack that targeted Hye Yeon’s whole body.
The blade trembled and drew dozens of afterimages through the air.
Those sharp, exquisite shapes looked as though they would shred Hye Yeon’s body to pieces any second now.
And then, in that instant—
Swish.
Hye Yeon’s body blurred, then vanished from that spot as though it had simply dropped away.
At the same time, Yu I-seol pushed off the ground and launched herself sideways as well.
Whoooosh!
Then she swung her sword with full force into empty air.
At a glance, it was an incomprehensible action.
But at that very moment, Hye Yeon’s figure appeared exactly where Yu I-seol’s blade was cutting.
It was like a fish leaping straight into a net that had been carelessly cast out.
Even Hye Yeon seemed flustered for that fleeting instant, his face hardening as he twisted his body. But that alone made it impossible to avoid her vicious sword fully.
Shk.
The blade grazed Hye Yeon’s shoulder.
In that instant, he spun his body around and instead surged forward. Then he slammed his shoulder into Yu I-seol’s abdomen, where she had left an opening by swinging her sword.
Boom!
Yu I-seol’s body was flung backward like a cannonball.
Flying away like a snapped kite string, Yu I-seol turned her body twice in midair and landed lightly on the ground.
Drip.
A thin line of red blood slid from the corner of her mouth.
Hye Yeon was in no great shape either. The hem of his yellow monk’s robe where the sword had cut through was slowly turning red.
Only then did those watching the duel finally let out the breath they had been holding.
The Mount Hua disciples were no different.
Yoon Jong found himself clenching both fists without realizing it.
Good heavens.
On the surface, it could almost be dismissed as a single exchange. But how much was packed into that brief clash?
More than anything, what shocked Yoon Jong was the exactness of their forms and the speed of their judgment. Without the slightest hesitation, they chose only the best option available to them each time.
Faith in what they had built.
Without confidence in the path one was walking, that would have been impossible.
“...Was Sago that strong?”
Jo Gul let out a low groan.
He had fought Hye Yeon before, so he knew. He knew just how strong that red-faced monk was. Hadn’t Jo Gul been able to do nothing but stare when Hye Yeon unfolded his forms right in front of him?
His movement had been as natural as flowing water, and every motion had been honed so many times that there was not a single extraneous part to be found.
The Hye Yeon he had personally faced had been shocking enough to stun him.
And yet Yu I-seol was matching that Hye Yeon. If she could not overpower him, she at least was not being forced back.
“While the sahyungs were lying around sleeping, Sago was swinging her sword.”
“... ...”
“Don’t misunderstand, though. I’m not saying effort solves everything. I’m just saying Sago put everything she had into her sword except for the time she spent eating and sleeping.”
Jo Gul lost the will to speak and shut his mouth.
It was easy to say.
But who in the world could truly put that into practice?
It was true that Chung Myung had driven them like they were in hell. But to be honest, while he was away, there was no one here who had pushed them to the same degree when training as he had.
The only one who had actually done it was standing on the martial stage right now.
“Watch carefully.”
Chung Myung said, eyes calm as he watched the match.
“There’ll be something for you to feel.”
Yu I-seol lightly touched her abdomen.
Her insides had been shaken, but she hadn’t suffered a serious internal injury.
What she had felt through that brief exchange came down to two things.
The first was...
Strong.
Stronger than she had imagined. Far stronger.
It felt like striking a sword against an iron wall. She couldn’t see a single attack that could break through that man’s defense. The fact that she had managed to wound his shoulder was only the result of startling a man who lacked practical experience; it had not been something she accomplished purely through skill.
And that same trick would not work a second time.
And the second was...
If I fight him head-on, I’ll never win.
The difference in inner energy was enormous.
Yu I-seol’s internal force was by no means inferior.
Of course, Mount Hua had lost its original basic inner energy method, so it could not strengthen its disciples’ internal force all that much. But Yu I-seol had taken both the Honwon Dan and the Jaso-dan, so her inner energy was in no way lacking compared to any disciple of a great orthodox sect.
And yet there was still a clear gap.
The enormous inner energy contained in each of Hye Yeon’s punches felt as though it could crush her body. If she allowed even a single strike to land, she would no longer be able to continue fighting.
In the end, what she had to do was walk a razor-thin line.
She had to pierce through her opponent’s iron wall without ever allowing a single attack to land.
Could she do it?
A slight wrinkle touched Yu I-seol’s brow.
How are you supposed to get stronger if you only ever do what you can? If you don’t try, how are you supposed to know whether you can do it or not? Just doing the same things you can already do forever and repeating them for the rest of your life? Kids these days have no drive. None at all!
Old fossil.
But he wasn’t wrong.
You met a strong enemy? Then be happy. It means anything you throw at them will be received without a problem. So go on and smash them with everything you’ve got.
I don’t even need to hear it.
Strength gathered at the tips of Yu I-seol’s feet.
That’s exactly what I was thinking!
Crack!
As the blue-stone floor split, Yu I-seol rushed at Hye Yeon at terrifying speed.
Clang!
A single sword strike, descending like lightning, was blocked by Hye Yeon’s palm. Even though he had stopped the blade barehanded after all the sword qi had been drawn into it, not a scratch appeared on him.
But that had been expected already.
Yu I-seol’s sword slid smoothly down over Hye Yeon’s palm.
The transition from hard to soft.
The blade, flowing softly along his arm, now targeted Hye Yeon’s chest. But Hye Yeon was not someone who would be beaten so easily.
Thump!
His arm exploded with rebound force. The sword that had been flowing along his forearm was thrown off by the rebounding qi, and Yu I-seol’s front line was opened.
Then came the following punch!
Thoom!
The casually thrust fist slammed into Yu I-seol’s left shoulder. A single blow carried enough shock to twist her entire body.
And yet Yu I-seol did not retreat, even as she coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood.
Crunch!
Instead, she stepped forward. Her foot came down on Hye Yeon’s ankle just as he planted his leg to brace himself. His foot smashed through the thick blue stone and was driven deep into the ground.
Tap!
Then Yu I-seol sprang backward.
The sword began to tremble violently, then started pouring out streams of red plum blossoms.
This move!
Hold the opponent in place and open the distance.
Of course, for Hye Yeon, having his foot driven into the floor amounted to nothing more than a momentary delay. But that momentary delay was enough for her.
More perfectly.
This still wasn’t enough.
More. Even more. More!
As though it were alive!
She could not stop at mere precision. No matter how perfectly she painted the plum blossoms, if she was satisfied with that alone, then she would be no different from Zhongnan.
Only by pouring true intent into them could they become the plum blossoms of Mount Hua!
Yu I-seol gradually forgot herself.
I...
A dark night.
And the moon, hanging in the sky, thin and waning.
Beneath it, a man was swinging a sword.
With beauty beyond compare. With despair beyond compare.
The sword that had broken apart and never quite connected, falling in pieces, dropped away with a dull, helpless tremor. The image of someone collapsing into sobs, unable to endure it, was etched so clearly before her eyes that it could not be forgotten.
Here.
It was here.
The plum blossoms that had never been allowed to bloom. The plum blossoms that could never, ever come to fruition.
The plum blossoms the man had tried to draw with his entire life were now unfolding in Yu I-seol’s hands.
The living, breathing petals of plum blossoms swirled on the wind flowing from the tip of her sword and spread until they covered Hye Yeon’s entire body.
To anyone watching, it seemed impossible for Hye Yeon to evade every one of these sword strikes.
And yet, at that moment—
“Amitabha!”
Wooooooong!
Hye Yeon’s entire body was enveloped in a golden radiance.
His eyes half-opened.
His hands naturally settled into the posture of a half-palm.
Those who recognized the meaning of that stance were horrified and sprang to their feet.
“Supreme Great Power of Non-Action!”
Someone screamed in a convulsive voice that stabbed into everyone’s ears.
And then—
Wooooooong!
Hye Yeon’s whole body finally turned completely gold, and soon after, red radiance began to pour out in all directions.
It was vast and sacred.
The plum blossoms that had seemed ready to tear Hye Yeon’s body to pieces melted away, like eyes meeting sunlight, inside the flood of golden light.
The Buddha light bearing the power to destroy evil crushed every false thing in its path. And it did not stop there; it began pushing back against Yu I-seol’s entire body.
Rattle, rattle.
If she did not resist, she would simply be forced back.
But Yu I-seol did not retreat so easily.
Rattle, rattle.
The bones in her body sounded as though they were being twisted out of place.
Gnashing her teeth, Yu I-seol bled freely from nose and mouth, yet she kept advancing—one step, then another.
Hye Yeon’s eyes shook.
Why?
The result was already decided.
Yu I-seol’s sword would not reach his body, and it never would.
So why was she advancing? She must know perfectly well that no matter how desperately she struggled, she could not leave even one more scratch on him.
Foolish!
Hye Yeon pushed his inner energy even higher.
If she did not resist, she would simply be pushed back and fall from the martial stage. So why deliberately injure herself resisting like this?
Rattle, rattle.
With a horrifying sound, Yu I-seol’s outstretched ankle twisted.
Click!
But Yu I-seol planted that twisted ankle on the ground. Then she brought the next foot forward once more.
Blood streamed down until it was enough to soak her front completely, and yet there was not even the slightest tremor in her eyes.
Why?
At last, Yu I-seol lifted her sword.
Her arm trembled violently, like a child trying to raise a heavy blade, but she still raised it all the way to the end.
And then she brought it down slowly.
No—“brought it down” was too strong a phrase. It was closer to a blade losing strength and falling.
There was no force behind it, no inner energy at all.
Shk.
But Hye Yeon could not dodge it.
A long gash split across his chest.
At most, it was only a cut in cloth.
But it was a wound he should never have received.
“...It reached.”
At last, Yu I-seol lost her strength and sat down where she stood.
Thud.
The result was clear.
But Yu I-seol’s face was not that of a loser, and Hye Yeon’s face was not that of a victor.
Hye Yeon stared down at his wound, his face drained white.
How in the world...?
How could she refuse to retreat even in that situation, and still manage to wound him?
Hye Yeon turned his head reflexively.
The direction of his gaze landed on Chung Myung, who was watching him from among the Mount Hua disciples with a meaningful look on his face.
“Your spine’s gonna go cold, you damn bald monk.”
Hye Yeon’s palms were slick with cold sweat.