Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Play to Win (2)
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I have to admit what needs admitting.
I've still got a long way to go.
At first, I figured that inside the Mind-Image Sword Debate space, I could unpack everything I knew—descending like a genius dancer from the shadows, carving through everything invincible.
But after getting dog-walked like a mutt, turns out that's not how it works.
Martial arts aren't just manifested through fixed forms.
Take the sword I was just swinging around.
Speaking of the Flying Heaven Sword Art.
It consists of six forms, from the 1st Form, Flying Wing Lightning Flash, to the 6th Form, Heavenly Light Single Flash.
Each form follows a set trajectory, executing precise movements.
Plus, whether it's supple sword unity or rigid sword unity, it's all woven into the essence of the forms.
If we're using game terms, each individual form is like a single skill.
You pull up the forms you've memorized in your head and chain them together—that's the standard process for unleashing martial arts.
In simple terms, it's like stacking combos with the forms: EQ, flat, RQ, W, or whatever.
…That's what I used to think.
But that old codger's sword I faced earlier was different.
It was clearly the same form lunging at my heart over and over.
Sometimes a lightning-quick swift sword, other times a heavy sword that read my moves and countered perfectly, or mixed with feints as an illusory sword.
The most basic postures that make up a form—
Step forward, swing, twist the body slightly, slash, thrust—all that series of motions, broken down one by one from the form itself, methodically picking me apart.
I was pissed, but there was nothing I could do.
On top of that, decomposing the forms with the knowledge I held as 'correct' in my head? At least with my current grasp of martial logic, that's impossible.
It's like knowing the answer key but shying away from calling it wrong.
But.
If I don't do that, I can't win—
With that conviction.
I swung the sword whose form hadn't fully taken shape in my mind yet.
That nameless old man's sword.
I didn't know how he circulated his inner power, what the actual trajectories were, or how he distinguished the forms.
Since I knew nothing.
I broke down what I'd seen into the tiniest pieces.
Chopped and chopped until only the bare minimum form remained.
Then infused it with the sensations I'd felt.
Hostility.
The stench of blood.
Killing intent like it would tear me apart right then.
The courage to sacrifice your own arm without a second thought to sever the enemy's throat.
Yeah.
Just like a single wolf.
A solitary hunter with every step stained in blood.
Infused with the ferocity that never backs down, even against a mighty foe.
…!
Moyong Wicheon felt a flash of bewilderment.
Not only had he precisely deflected a sword that should've been impossible to block.
From that moment, it was like facing a completely different person.
The straightforward swordsmanship vanished, replaced by irregular, unpredictable thrusts like those of a street ronin.
"No chance!"
He bellowed a pointless kiai, swinging his twin blades wildly to fully crush the already half-broken Geum Sihyeon.
But sometimes, an unexpected burst of power lightly swept aside the attacks.
What had seemed a feint right up to the rush suddenly materialized, snaking toward his throat like a viper.
And.
Most fundamentally—
Like the man himself had changed entirely.
A subtle hostility and killing intent began binding Moyong Wicheon's body like intangible shackles.
Feeling this pressure from a swordsman his own age…?
The growing bewilderment weighed heavily on Moyong Wicheon's heart.
"Haaap!"
Sensing he couldn't lose momentum any longer, Moyong Wicheon drew up every last drop of his remaining inner power.
Heaven-Earth Flash-Breaking Sword.
Absolute Strike. Heaven and Earth Return to One.
The sword imbued with Heaven's qian intent merges with the sword of Earth's kun intent, shaping the cosmos and pursuing primordial unity.
Originally designed assuming sword aura, it drained so much power he felt momentary exhaustion.
But in exchange, between the crossing swords, black-and-white forms—too vivid to call mere sword qi—shone brilliantly.
In a real body, his qi and blood would twist here.
Only possible in the Mind-Image Sword Debate.
The moment Moyong Wicheon, resolved to settle it with this single strike, looked at his opponent.
…!
Moyong Wicheon sensed his mistake.
"Y-You shameless wretch!"
Unfortunately, Moyong Wicheon was still a flower in a greenhouse.
He'd assumed that when he unleashed an absolute strike, the opponent would counter with his own—a perfectly obvious, romantic clash.
But Geum Sihyeon.
Had no such intention.
The instant sword qi rose, he'd already focused his power at his soles in preparation to evade.
Moyong Wicheon's Heaven and Earth Return to One cleaved empty air.
But.
Seeing that, he resolved to even draw his innate true qi, pouring maximum power into the blade.
"Think a cheap trick like that'll work?!"
As a result.
Condensed inner power flowed along the blade, forming a strand of sword qi that chased straight after the fleeing Geum Sihyeon's back.
Too late to dodge.
Feeling his strength ebb, Moyong Wicheon smirked in triumph.
Shuuu—
A sound of something rushing fast.
Moyong Wicheon instinctively looked up into the air.
"You mad bastard—"
Geum Sihyeon's sword dropping precisely above his head.
If he'd had even a scrap of strength left, he could've dodged.
But having summoned everything in that instant, he couldn't twitch a finger.
In the end.
Before Heaven and Earth Return to One could devour Geum Sihyeon.
In the blink Moyong Wicheon drew his power, Geum Sihyeon's upward-tossed sword pierced his avatar first.
Along with the sensation of his vision staining red—
Winner: Ten Thousand Gold Treasury Fortress Genuine Mahjong Tiles Plenty Official
Loser: Sky-Cleaving Sword Ghost
The world of the Mind-Image Sword Debate, where mutual destruction doesn't exist.
Severely distinguished victor from vanquished.
"Another dirty trick…!"
Moyong Wicheon gnashed his teeth.
But.
A trick like that would only work once.
They'd already agreed on best of three, two wins.
He'd thoroughly butcher him in the remaining two rounds.
[Challenge opponent to rematch?]
[Accept ■ / Decline □]
And.
In the ensuing second round.
To the sword of a form Moyong Wicheon had never seen, swung by Geum Sihyeon—
He was thoroughly butchered.
No one who saw it.
No matter how they judged it.
It was his utter defeat.
Haaa….
With a deep sigh, I removed the headgear.
"Geum Sihyeon! Geum Sihyeon!"
"Not bad at all!"
"Uwaaaah! My money!"
"Why's it your money? Puhaha!"
The heat swirling in the Heart Lotus Pavilion poured over me.
Moyong Wicheon stared blankly, lost.
I approached and offered my hand.
His unfocused eyes looked up at me, brows twitching for a moment.
But with so many watching, he lacked the nerve to throw a tantrum—meekly took my hand.
[GodofBlade_11]
Sword God, huh.
Arrogant ID.
I could roast him plenty later.
For now, time to bask in the winner's privileges.
"Don't take it too hard. Your opponent was me, after all."
Recalling Moyong Taek's bottom-dealing face, I curled my lips into the smarmiest smirk.
Moyong Wicheon's face crumpled horribly as he slapped my hand away.
But it's an undeniable fact.
If it bugs you that much, you should've won.
Feeling utterly refreshed in my chest.
I shared a brief, warm moment of camaraderie with my classmates cheering my victory.
Then headed to Moyong Taek in the corner, who'd even laid out a mat to divvy up the gambling payouts.
High-fived Unhak, who was helping him out.
"Whoa! Knew you had it, Geum Sihyeon!"
Gazing at Moyong Taek's beaming smile blessing my win.
"Fifty percent."
I demanded a perfectly fair and just cut.
Moyong Taek's face twisted for an instant.
Up close like this, you could really see the family resemblance with Moyong Wicheon.
"Even so, fifty's a bit much…."
"Sixty."
"Hey!"
"Seventy."
"Guhh… Fine, fifty…."
"There you go."
I'd seized the winner's rightful due as well.
Brothers tag-teaming to hand me profit and joy.
Catching Najo and Sojeo beaming from the spectator seats, I slipped out of the Heart Lotus Pavilion.
Grab the pooch I left with the dorm keeper, head back to the dorms, wash up, and crash.
I hadn't moved my body, but.
Exerting that much focus left my head throbbing.
Strolling leisurely along.
Passing the heart of the Hundred Flowers Academy.
Through the area lined with grand halls—
—?!
Something living burst from an alley, grabbed my robe hem, and yanked me inside with surprising strength.
For a split second, I tensed, thinking it was Moyong Wicheon or his gang ambushing me out of grudge.
But the eye color we locked on in that instant, and the familiar petite frame that felt almost fragile.
I knew them well.
Let myself get dragged without resistance into the deserted alley.
The kidnapper.
Cheon Luri slammed me against the wall.
This the so-called wall slam?
With her arm not even up past her head gripping my collar, it just looked kinda pathetic and cute….
Tucking away that death-wish thought deep in my brain, I met Luri's eyes as she gazed up at me with head bowed.
"Mm, Luri junior? What's this about?"
No way it's a confession, right?
I still don't get the mentality of those who freeze the ring with three○maru.
But.
The words spilling from Luri's mouth.
"You, Demonic Cult?"
…?
That left me baffled.
What?
Like, 'Won't you become an oni?' vibes?
A foreboding premonition of ending up a donut flashed through my mind.