Put Your Neck on the Line, You Bastard! (4)
Namgung Hwang’s eyes widened in shock.
An overwhelming torrent of saber aura was pouring down from above his head. It was as if the entire world had been drenched in black ink.
“Kkh!”
Namgung Hwang drew his sword like a flash of lightning and leaped toward the oncoming saber aura.
“I am Namgung Hwang!”
With a thunderous shout, Namgung Hwang’s blade cleaved the incoming force in two. A sun-bright white sword qi split the black darkness apart.
“Haaaaaah!”
Chwaaaaaaaaaak!
The sight of Namgung Hwang, wreathed in white sword energy, soaring upward through the black saber aura made the hearts of everyone watching pound hotly in their chests.
But then—
“You!”
As the Black Dragon King swung his moon blade again, the saber aura surged with even greater ferocity.
Chwaaaaaaak!
“Haaaaaaaaah!”
Namgung Hwang roared and split the rain of saber aura apart.
The Black Dragon King’s aura proved exactly why he was called the god of the Yangtze, yet Namgung Hwang also clearly demonstrated why the Namgung Family was hailed as the greatest family under heaven.
Unfortunately, this was not a battle meant to prove individual might. That fact alone decided the fortunes of both men.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaang!
The black saber aura, split left and right by Namgung Hwang’s sword, did not lose the slightest bit of momentum as it crashed down toward the people below.
“R-run!”
“Aaaagh!”
With the saber aura suddenly raining down from overhead, the Shaolin and Wudang disciples went pale and hurled themselves in every direction.
But this was a cliff. Attacks that could be avoided without much difficulty on flat ground became far deadlier here, their power magnified by the terrain.
“Aaaagh!”
“Aaaagh!”
Those who failed to escape in time were swept up by the saber aura, coughing blood as they tumbled helplessly downward.
“Jinhoe!!”
“Hye-myeong! Hye-myeong!”
Shaolin and Wudang.
Even their names alone were enough to command respect as elite sects of the martial world.
Yet even they found it difficult to withstand the saber aura unleashed by the Black Dragon King, one of the leaders of the Five Hegemons of the Jianghu. The climbers on the cliff were sent toppling one after another, blood spraying into the air.
What the pouring oil and the arrow storm had failed to accomplish, the Black Dragon King’s single strike had done.
“You!”
Veins bulged in Namgung Hwang’s eyes.
“Black Dragooooon!”
“Kwahahahahahaha!”
The Black Dragon King burst into booming laughter.
“That face is worth seeing, Emperor Sword.”
Namgung Hwang clamped his lips shut hard enough to draw blood as he clung back to the cliff and looked down. Not only Shaolin and Namgung, but the Namgung Family members below had also been struck by the Black Dragon King’s saber aura.
Watching the wounded men groaning beneath the cliff made it feel as though he had swallowed a lump of burning charcoal. His insides seethed.
Yet Namgung Hwang could not unleash his anger all at once.
Sapa.
Yangtze River Eighteen Water Forts.
The Janggang Waterway he had fought until now was, to put it kindly, not a force he could call strong.
The bandits’ level could not possibly compare to the Namgung Sword Corps, and the fortress chiefs were naturally far below the Namgung Family elders, even lower than the captains of a single sword unit.
So it had been true that, deep down, he had looked down on them.
But the Black Dragon King’s saber aura was enough to smash that arrogance to pieces in an instant.
Black Dragon King.
The king of the Yangtze who ruled the Water Bandits.
He was on a different level. At the very least, he was wholly unlike the other bandits.
Namgung Hwang’s sword qi could split mountains with a single stroke and sever rivers with another. But that one strike from the Black Dragon King had not been fully cut apart.
How?
How could such a man emerge from among those crude rabble?
The righteous sects cultivated everyone within their ranks. The wicked sects, by contrast, produced men of a different caliber who trampled their way to the top. That was what it meant. Now Namgung Hwang understood it in his bones.
“Family Head Namgung!”
At that moment, Heo Do-jin-in shouted like thunder and shot past Namgung Hwang. Startled, Namgung Hwang came back to himself at once and ground his teeth again.
What, did you think I was scared?
The moment he saw Heo Do-jin-in rushing ahead of him, the blood in his entire body surged in reverse.
“Heoooo Doooojiiiin!”
With another shout, Namgung Hwang kicked off the cliff and charged upward.
Right beside him, Beop Gye followed swiftly.
Heo Do-jin-in, Namgung Hwang, Beop Gye.
The supreme masters representing the Nine Sects and the Five Great Families kicked off the cliff at once, rushing to take the heads of the wicked sects’ overlords.
“Hahahahahaha! You bratty little things!”
Hot blood surged into the Black Dragon King’s eyes.
“If that’s what you want, I’ll take you all on!”
He kicked off the ground and hurled himself down the side of the cliff. The sight of that massive body falling from the heavens radiated an oppression beyond imagination.
“How dare you!”
Heo Do-jin-in ground his teeth and was just about to send his sword flying when—
“Your opponent is me.”
With a cold, spine-chilling voice, a sharp sword aura pierced toward Heo Do-jin-in’s throat.
Kagak!
Heo Do-jin-in smoothly swept his sword to brush away the incoming aura, and his eyes sharpened.
“Man-geum Daebu!”
Before anyone knew it, Man-geum Daebu had come down from the cliff and stood vertically on the sheer rock face as if his feet had been glued there, looking down at Heo Do-jin-in with leisurely composure.
“If it’s the throat of Wudang’s sect leader, Heo Do-jin-in, it’s worth putting my own neck on the line. No matter how you look at it, that’s a profitable deal.”
Heo Do-jin-in’s expression turned dark.
A bloodless miser.
A merchant from hell who traded in everything.
A peddler who walked the blackest roads.
There were too many words to describe Man-geum Daebu, but only one came to Heo Do-jin-in’s mind now.
“The Sapa's First Sword.”
“Just a title. Worth less than a penny.”
Heo Do-jin-in adjusted his grip on his sword.
Damn it.
Then he quickly glanced left and right.
The fire lines had mostly been extinguished by the aftermath of the clash and Chung Myung’s efforts, but there were still a few burning lines snaking toward the lower part of the cliff.
Still, there was no way to pull back.
The aura leaking from Man-geum Daebu told him everything. The instant he turned his back, that spine of his would be severed. That eerie killing intent and sticky pressure had already clamped around his ankles and refused to let go.
Even if he was Wudang’s Heo Do-jin-in, if his opponent was Man-geum Daebu, the Sapa's First Sword, he would have to gamble his life.
“Heo of Wudang! I’ll take your life!”
“Good. Come and see whether you can.”
Man-geum Daebu and Heo Do-jin-in dashed across the cliff as if it were level ground and collided.
Kwaaaaaaaaaang!
Beop Gye surged up onto the cliff, cutting through the aura clashing from the Black Dragon King’s moon blade and Namgung Hwang’s great sword. His graceful footwork was so refined it even surpassed that of Heo Do-jin-in and Namgung Hwang.
I have to take the high ground! I can’t let any more people die!
Just as Beop Gye grit his teeth and leaped upward, another voice rang out.
“Shaolin’s Yeon-dae Gu-pum. Indeed, truly lives up to its reputation.”
At that instant, dozens of shadowy hands appeared above his head.
Beop Gye’s eyes flew wide open.
Launching dozens of palm strikes at once was not in itself anything remarkable. Even a first-generation disciple of Wudang could do that much.
But if those dozens of hand shadows all took different forms, then the matter was entirely different.
“Haa!”
Beop Gye swept both hands through the air. In the same instant, dozens of palm images bloomed along his fingertips like the hands of Thousand-Hand Guanyin.
Kwaaaaaaaaaang!
The two palm forces entwined and collided.
Unable to withstand the backlash, Beop Gye stumbled back down the cliff more than ten paces.
“……”
In Beop Gye’s shocked eyes, he saw a figure strolling down the cliff with his hands clasped behind his back.
“But when it comes to movement techniques, I’m not so far behind either.”
“……Cheonmyeon Susa.”
The Hao Sect leader, Cheonmyeon Susa, had barred his way.
With a stiff expression, Beop Gye rubbed his hands together.
Shaolin’s fists were the strongest under heaven. Shaolin’s palms were, without question, the strongest under heaven as well. But the impact from that clash had left unmistakable pain in his wrists.
“……So that’s the famous Thousand Face Hand?”
“I’m honored. Truly honored that Shaolin’s Beop Gye recognizes my signature art.”
Cheonmyeon Susa chuckled as if he were genuinely amused.
“Though Shaolin’s Guanyin Hand seems to be less impressive than I heard. I’m not sure whether it’s the martial art that’s lacking or the person.”
“……Amitabha.”
Beop Gye’s gaze sank darkly.
“You’ll soon discover that it’s neither, benefactor.”
“Hahahaha. So even you monks have pride, do you? Then come on, show me.”
Cheonmyeon Susa lightly sprang upward and spread both arms wide.
Beop Gye, too, assumed a firm half-palm stance and soared after him.
Hand shadows and palm shadows.
As the blue sky above the cliff was obscured by the man-made silhouettes of hands, a black shadow spread across the rock face.
The supreme masters representing each faction clashed atop that sheer cliff.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaaang!
Kwaaaaaaaaaang!
Before long, the summit was swallowed by massive detonations and scattering fragments of qi.
“Th-this……”
“What in the world……”
Those climbing the cliff stared at the scene, mouths hanging open.
They had heard tales of supreme masters until their ears were callused raw, but no one had ever seen such a battle between such towering experts with their own eyes.
And that was only natural.
The martial world had been soaked in peace for nearly a hundred years. It had been well over a century since the righteous and wicked factions last waged war on one another.
Supreme masters represented the honor of their sects. They were men who stood to lose too much from a single defeat. That was why they could not easily cross hands.
But now things were different.
To survive, to protect their sects, they had to cut down the enemy’s throat no matter what.
Kwarururururung!
Sword qi and saber qi clashed; water qi and fist radiance erupted.
The shockwaves from qi colliding shook the entire cliff as if explosives had gone off, making it seem as though the whole thing might collapse at any moment.
“That…… is the realm of the supreme.”
A hollow laugh slipped from Mu Jin’s lips.
The instant he witnessed the majestic spectacle of supreme and supreme colliding, a tide of his own smallness crashed over him.
Was the sect leader really that strong?
Fragments of qi splintered from colliding blades and tore into the cliff, leaving deep scars. What should have required his full strength to create was being carved across the rock simply by the excess power of the clash.
Heo Do’s sword was truly astonishing.
But Man-geum Daebu’s sword did not fall even a single inch behind Heo Do-jin-in’s.
The others were no different.
It was a dead even match.
The clash between the Black Dragon King and Namgung Jangcheon, and the contest between Beop Gye and Cheonmyeon Susa, were both battles in which neither side yielded even the slightest bit.
Kwarururururung!
The cliff shook as if it were about to collapse, and shattered stone fragments rained down like a landslide.
“Stick close!”
“We’re falling!”
Mu Jin grit his teeth and clung to the cliff.
Try to break through that and head upward? Even a thousand lives wouldn’t be enough, let alone ten!
What are we supposed to do in a situation like this……?
And then it happened.
“Haha!”
A loud laugh, completely out of place with the current situation, drew Mu Jin’s gaze.
Whipping his head around, Mu Jin saw it.
Chung Myung, with the Five Swords of Mount Hua surrounding him like a protective escort, was racing along the cliff and charging straight for Jang Il-so.
“You cleaned your throat good and proper, you fucking bastard!”
Mu Jin’s mouth fell open in shock.
While everyone else was fixated on the clash of supreme masters, frozen stiff with fear, only one group—the Five Swords of Mount Hua—was responding in kind to the flow of battle.
As if they already belonged to that realm.
“M-Mount Hua Divine Dragon!”
The shout tore from Mu Jin’s mouth without his meaning to, and in that same instant Chung Myung kicked off the cliff and shot upward.
“Jang Ilsooooo!”
Chung Myung’s sword, flying like a bolt of lightning, came crashing down over Jang Il-so’s head like a thunderclap.
“Haha!”
Jang Il-so burst into shrill laughter and lifted a hand to block Chung Myung’s blade.
Kwaaaaaaaaaang!
The rings on every one of his fingers collided with Chung Myung’s sword, producing a tremendous boom.
Chung Myung’s face twisted.
And Jang Il-so’s face, full of mockery.
The eyes of the two men locked as sword met hand.