Chapter 172
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 172
Chapter Title: Ninefold Veiled Sword (2)
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Short, concise, simple.
He honed his strikes, focusing on points rather than surfaces. The fruits of his training were evident. Even with his massive frame, all superfluous motion had vanished, transforming into a perfect single-point path fist technique.
Whoosh, whoosh!
He repeated the same motion countless times. A refining process that could easily grow tedious. To the eye, they all looked identical, but change was occurring. An exceedingly subtle shift, invisible to any who hadn't reached that realm.
Peerless hegemony.
Considering the ideals his school's fist arts pursued, it might be hard to grasp why he focused on a single point's destructive power. Yet that pinpoint devastation was the very essence of fist techniques. If one could channel full power into a single point, a flawless fist strike could be unleashed in any circumstance.
Maximize the impact point and infuse it with refined energy, and it would become an invincible fist art. Thus, the foundation of fist techniques lay in forging the body from a rock-solid lower half up through the torso, grounded in relentless straight-punch practice.
A perfected straight punch transcended the bounds of common sense. No other skill could rival its domain.
Thud! Boom!
He'd struck lightly, yet the destructive force exceeded even his expectations. Ripples from the point of impact on the wall utterly pulverized the far side. Without channeling internal energy, the naturally trailing aura had coalesced into a proper emission. Basic energy projection, yet complete in its own right.
Huff, huff!
Sweat poured from his iron-forged body like a spring. A simple thrust and retraction consumed vast amounts of stamina and spirit. He poured his full heart and power into every single motion. None were wasted.
Within the static movement dwelled an intensely dynamic destructive force.
Sip, whoosh!
Deep breaths restored his depleted energy. The repetitive training was grueling. No one had ordered it. It was entirely self-imposed.
Heh!
His focus never wavered. A faint smile even played on his lips. No trace of agony amid the bone-grinding tedium of repetition.
'Heavens, what a prodigy.'
That was Guo Yunbaek's honest sentiment as he watched Cheol-ho train. He'd been impressed before learning the boy's age, but hearing he wasn't even in his twenties doubled the awe.
'True to the basics, utterly efficient.'
He was a living textbook for any fist practitioner. Young warriors dazzled by flashy forms or devastating special techniques needed to witness this.
'The hardship must be unimaginable, yet he's a born genius.'
Cheol-ho was a once-in-a-century talent.
Surprisingly, the Pine Tiger Sect harbored another of equal caliber. Mujin and Muho were fully formed exceptions, but Taejin and Mijoo were innate prodigies too. He wondered what marvels they'd become upon fully blooming.
Yet it wasn't mere talent that astonished him.
Guo Yunbaek himself had shattered barriers upon becoming the Pine Tiger Sect's guardian, ascending to new heights. It wasn't hyperbole to say he'd neared the ranks of the Divine Continent's top twenty-one experts. Even he was left speechless by Cheol-ho's regimen.
"Aren't you tired?"
"Tired? I'm still sorely lacking!"
What was truly admirable was how he relished the martial arts. For a boy his age to impose such brutal training on himself was extraordinary.
One might slack off training in solitude, yet his diligence was a lesson even for Guo Yunbaek.
"You're no match for your master, but I'll lend a hand."
"Thank you, Elder Guo!"
It was a fine offer for Cheol-ho. No one better to test his training gains than Elder Guo. Whatever the elder's motives didn't matter.
'I'll never go out with Master!'
The Pine Tiger Sect without his master was paradise on earth. Even bone-scraping drills felt sweet. Not a hint of strain. His routine of training, meals, and sleep brimmed with joy.
'No room for complacency!'
He had a steadfast goal: master the unified inner-outer fist arts and claim the edge over Taejin. His master stayed docile at home, at least. But once he stepped out, anxiety gnawed—what calamity might unfold?
Guo Yunbaek drew his spear. He showed no mercy for the boy's youth. Cheol-ho's prowess surpassed the rookie saints of the martial world.
"Come at me."
"Yes, sir."
Cheol-ho lunged with a basic thrust step, unleashing his Peerless Single-Point Cannon.
Guo Yunbaek's spearwork, rooted in the foundational forms of the Six Flower Spear, bordered on the divine. Exchanges unfolded endlessly. A clash between a grandmaster of his generation and a saint heralding a new era.
'Still evolving mid-bout!'
Guo Yunbaek took genuine delight in Cheol-ho's growth. Childless and without disciples, he felt a master's pride.
Cheol-ho yielded not an inch to the spear shadows blossoming through the air. Victory mattered less than honing his skill. He fought with the conviction he'd surpass Guo someday.
Clack!
Guo Yunbaek withdrew his spear.
"That helped immensely."
"Think nothing of it. Keep at it, and one day you could vie for the throne of the world."
Words to stir any heart, yet Cheol-ho accepted them with calm equanimity.
Guo Yunbaek clicked his tongue in admiration. Even he, at that age, had once swelled with arrogance over lofty dreams. Cheol-ho had aced this subtle test.
'Shedding my mortal shell once will suffice.'
He'd done it once; nine remained. He'd surely find a lovely maiden and live blissfully with his master.
His master had said looks mattered most.
Reality.
Training done, he returned to the Pine Tiger Sect. Another fulfilling day. He savored the master's absence.
Mijoo waited at the main gate.
"Bro! Looks like you made gains—you're beaming!"
"Feels good."
"Even better without Dad, right?"
"Yeah... no!"
Cheol-ho swallowed hard at Mijoo's innocent gaze. He'd let his guard down, saying nothing, and she'd struck the opening.
Like father, like daughter—so devious! His mind went blank... urk!
Gazing at Mijoo's face left him defenseless as an unguarded fortress.
"I miss Dad, but you don't, huh?"
"As if! I miss Master too!"
"Too late."
He ached to swat her, but he endured with a bright smile. Seeing her flinch back only fueled his ire.
"W-whoa, you mad?"
"Mad? What can this big bro do to earn your trust, Mijoo?"
"Fine, I'll think. Bet there's something."
He'd figured master's absence meant pure training, but the Pine Tiger Sect housed his daughter. No slacking—dread gripped him at what she might demand.
"Bro, wanna play tag?"
"It's getting dark."
"When's Dad coming?"
"Let's do it. Tag's best at night!"
Cheol-ho never underestimated Mijoo's skills. She and her brother were no kids to toy with.
Heave-ho!
Mijoo hopped onto So's back. The basic thrust step was footwork, distant from true lightness skill. And So was the king of beasts besides.
Back to his true form!
"Catch me if you can!"
Damn it all.
'Master, please take Mijoo with you!'
The So Manor needed to seize the Oseongmun's territory and all of Danyang to break even. Only then would it align with the Northern Hebei Peng Clan's aims in backing them.
Yet they proceeded without haste.
From the previous manor lord to the current one, the So family had always been cautious. With Peng support, they'd nurtured warriors and concealed their fangs until reaching sufficient scale.
But after Oseongmun's fall, the Peng Clan provided full backing. The timing had to advance. With Oseongmun gone, rival powers were circling. Fail to claim it first, and it'd slip away. An alliance between Guo Manor and another great clan or old faction would spell disaster.
The So Manor's core leadership—previous lord, current lord, and elders—convened.
The reason: a letter from Guo Manor.
Its contents were outrageous.
"'If you're scared, drop dead'? That timid Guo Cheol-yong wrote this?"
"The seal is unmistakably his."
Previous lord So Uncheon had yielded the seat to his son but wielded immense influence still. Small wonder—he was fierce enough to shame his eighties.
"Guo Cheol-yong's got a radical streak, unlike his late father."
"He'd endured all he could, no doubt."
They'd dispatched the Strong Dragon Squad to provoke in Guo territory. Petty matters, but persistent ones wounded pride. This extreme letter, though, was unforeseen. Unless truly cornered.
"No dealings with outsiders?"
"None. Even if there were, time's short. Direct outsider meddling would rile the Peng Clan too."
The Pengs sought to expand into Jiangsu through proxies. Direct involvement invited rival sects and clans. Stuffy as it was, justification was key.
"Strange. He knows our ties to the main Peng house—why provoke first?"
"Even rats bite cats when cornered. No better plays left."
Humans weren't rats. No sense cornering oneself. Best to feign ignorance and stall. That was Guo Manor's limit.
"With our house's fate on the line, we can't ignore even minor thorns."
"Too late to back out now. Guo's gone all-in; we can't yield."
The lord spoke true.
They'd declared a sparring arena in the contested border zone. Guo might've leaked rumors first. Balk now as suspicious, and the world would mock So Manor.
Tatata!
A warrior rushed into So Un Pavilion.
"Jin Yeo-sang here, with urgent news."
"Enter."
Jin Yeo-sang was an elite from the Strong Dragon Squad, handpicked by the clan.
"What's the commotion?"
"Deputy leader and squad returned."
"And?"
"Hauled back on a cart."
"Hauled?"
They'd sent the deputy to rattle Guo nerves and forge duel pretext. Fights as planned were fine. Carried back—not walking—changed everything.
Irritated, So Uncheon bolted up. He needed eyes on this himself.
Thud!
The carted deputy and squad were a sight. Trampled head to toe, no patch unbruised, bloodied black and blue.
"Wake him."
They roused Yeo Gu-hwan, worst off. Consciousness returned amid agonized groans. He'd resisted to the last, nearly shattered in body and spirit. Then, humiliation seared in, he shuddered in shame.
"What happened?"
"Guo scum dug a trap and ambushed us. Without their cowardice, we wouldn't have lost!"
Emotions colored his tale subjective. Beaten one-sided before swinging, surrounded, jeered, and shamed.
"Tend to him."
"Yes."
After rousing another for details, So Uncheon returned to So Un Pavilion. Seated, he showed no anger—uncharacteristically, a smile tugged his lips.
"Overconfidence."
Numerical edge or not, subduing Strong Dragon deputy Yeo Gu-hwan wasn't simple. They'd flaunted strength. The letter? Initiative grab.
"Teach them it's foolhardy bluster. Send word to the lord and Northern Hebei Peng Clan."
"Yes, Father."