Chapter 193: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 193: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style
Withstanding the sword of the Sword Saint.
It was a heavy task. Merely surviving would be an extraordinary feat in itself.
He would have to approach it with the mindset of enduring a natural disaster. Jeong Yeon-shin had been thinking that ever since he set out on his mission.
'It is a realm I must step into.'
There were swordsmen said to sever providence with a single strike.
The Commander of the Divine Sword Corps, the Wudang Sect Leader, the Lord of Heaven's Bane of the Thirteen Heavens of the Wicked Way, and even the Lord of the Hegemon Sword Sect, who had recently slain the Qingcheng Sect Leader.
In this world, there were Purple-rank monsters who embodied the strange, the violent, the chaotic, and the supernatural—their numbers rivaling even the great sects. They had conquered their generation. That was why they were peerless masters.
Their names transcended past and present. Storytellers did not hesitate to compare them to the absolute masters of old who had left their marks on the history of the Jianghu.
The renown of Sword Saint Hyeon So-baek was no different.
Among the common folk, he was regarded as the reincarnation of the Sword Immortal Lü Dongbin. Even a courteous strike, meant only as a test for Yeon-shin, would be difficult to withstand.
He had no way of knowing how many defensive moves he would have to execute in a single exchange. This was the sole remaining obstacle for the boy at the Alliance's gathering.
Right after Perfected Heavenly Pillar offered to help him, two of the three distinguished guests flinched. The successor disciples of the Diancang and Mount Hua sects adjusted their postures.
Had Perfected Heavenly Pillar not informed them of this beforehand?
A ripple spread across the pond beside the table where the four sat. The vibrations of their presence drew concentric circles on the water.
Atop the swaying surface, which carried a few maple leaves, the dappled sunlight wavered, as if reflecting the turbulent emotions of those seated together.
“My word,” a woman with a remarkable aura murmured.
She wore an exquisite, dark-colored sword at her waist and was clad in scarlet silk light armor. Her pitch-black hair barely brushed against her scabbard.
While her aura was honed to a sharp edge, the gentle droop of her large eyes gave her a kind appearance. The pure spirit of a Nine Sects martial artist lingered about her. She was the Small Sword Empress, Chwi So-ok.
Beside her, Taoist Yu-hyeon, the Hidden Dragon of Mount Hua, also sat up straight. It was a moment where they had no choice but to show respect. The Hwasan Sword Excellence, a man whose renown had shaken the world for over a decade, was about to discuss swordplay.
Perfected Heavenly Pillar had previously expressed regret over not being able to name the Azure Flame First Form. He had joked that countless people would gladly offer several sacks of rice just to have him name a technique.
But discussing swordplay was on an entirely different level. Along with Wudang, Mount Hua was one of the preeminent sword sects of the orthodox lineage. The advice of the Hwasan Sword Excellence held a value comparable to relief grain in times of famine.
It was said that even masters of equal standing sought his insights on the sword. Countless swordsmen of the Jianghu yearned for even a single word from him. The Small Sword Empress parted her lips slightly, her eyes widening.
“Should we excuse ourselves? I came here without knowing your intentions, Perfected One.”
“There is no need. When we practitioners travel through Yunnan, we always receive the aid of the Diancang Sect. As the successor disciple and the direct heir to the Shooting Sun Sword Technique, if you find this helpful, my efforts will not have been in vain. Besides, it is highly encouraging for a pillar of the Nine Sects to build a friendship with the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.”
Perfected Heavenly Pillar spoke in a flat, even tone, a stark contrast to the generosity of his words. Most swordsmen of the Mount Hua Sect were like this. Having trained in the rugged terrain of the West Peak, they possessed temperaments as unyielding as stone mountains.
Their habitually indifferent expressions were the very epitome of a swordsman. Yu-hyeon was the unusual exception. The Small Sword Empress smiled faintly.
“Thank you for your overly generous words. However, Commander Jeong and I are already quite close. We traveled together from Sichuan to Xiangyang and even joined forces to subjugate the Deep Martial Alliance. Though, rather than offering any help, I’m afraid I was the one who received his…”
Her faint smile held a playful glint. Before long, her gaze drifted toward the boy.
Jeong Yeon-shin could not think of a proper response.
The context made a simple ‘thank you’ feel awkward, but he couldn’t think of an equally teasing reply. As he stared back blankly, he saw the bridge of Yu-hyeon's handsome nose wrinkle as he sat cross-legged beside him.
He seemed to be holding back his laughter in front of his martial uncle.
Ignoring his Taoist friend, the boy spoke.
“I am curious about your intentions, Perfected One. Even if my swordplay is not yet complete, that alone does not seem reason enough for you to offer such a favor to a martial artist of the Desolate Fortress. Unlike the Nine Sects, our fortress does not share your path of cultivation.”
“Primordial Pacification Mantra,” Perfected Heavenly Pillar intoned, invoking his Taoist title.
“You have forged a karmic bond with Yu-hyeon. Have you not saved his life twice? The life of Mount Hua's successor disciple, who has inherited the Purple Mist Divine Art, is not a trivial matter. It is a debt of gratitude that should be repaid over a lifetime, but since Yu-hyeon lacks the ability to do so, I am repaying it on his behalf.”
In that case, it’s not my debt.
The boy decided to put his mind at ease.
Ever since he had formed the Law-Transcending Halo Qi with the help of the Seventh Apostle, he had become highly sensitive to debts of gratitude and grudges. The Jianghu was a world of favors and vendettas.
All reputation and influence originated from favors and grudges and were resolved by them. Even masters of the Unorthodox Factions found it difficult to maintain their standing in the Jianghu if they repaid kindness with malice. It was an unwritten rule of the era.
Now, as the leader of a Desolate Fortress martial unit, he could not simply accept help from anyone. This held true even if the other party belonged to the most righteous and fair lineage of the Orthodox Factions.
He had to eliminate anything that might influence his future actions so that he could wield his sword solely for the sake of the people. Beside him, the young Taoist’s eyebrow twitched. He gave Yeon-shin a playful look filled with understanding, as if to say he knew his circumstances.
Yeon-shin merely gave a slight nod and parted his lips.
“I am listening.”
“I will show you a training method almost too simple to be called a teaching. It is, quite literally, a small starting point.”
Smiling faintly, Perfected Heavenly Pillar gestured toward the empty air.
Swoosh!
An invisible shockwave shot out. An incredibly sharp wave of internal power brushed past the tree branches. A single branch fell from the pine tree that cast a quiet shadow over the pond. It was a long, thick bough.
Perfected Heavenly Pillar caught it gently.
“Our Sect Leader is an extremely gentle man. He rarely raises a switch to his disciples. So, I did it instead.”
At his words, Yu-hyeon flinched. However, no one paid him any attention.
The eyes of both Yeon-shin and the Small Sword Empress were fixed on Perfected Heavenly Pillar's hands. The way he stroked the rough pine branch was unique.
Slide.
With a single light stroke, various forms of energy flowed out. Waves of power crisscrossed in the air like colorless, scattered sunlight. The principles of multiple techniques manifested in his grasp.
Yet, the thick branch was shaved evenly into a straight line.
His calloused fingertips carved out the shape of a narrow-bladed sword. It was the extraordinary feat of a master. Perfected Heavenly Pillar fashioned a narrow wooden sword right where he sat.
It took less than three breaths. The bark that fell from between his fingers piled up in a small heap.
“I began with the first form of our sect's Plum Blossom Sword Art, Plum Blossom by the Roadside, and stopped just as I was initiating the seventh form, Scattered Plum Blossoms. It is a technique that rapidly transitions the flow of internal energy in the palm to the next form. I linked the initial power flows of each stance.”
In other words, he had carved the wood using the residual shockwaves generated by halting his swordplay mid-execution.
Yeon-shin's eyes gleamed. He had never known such an intriguing method of martial arts training existed.
Sects with long histories were distinctive in this way; even their teaching methods had a unique flair. A boyish curiosity finally washed over the face of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, shining in his upturned eyes.
Perfected Heavenly Pillar smiled.
“Try to contain all the subtle principles of your swordplay within your hand. No matter how many forms you cycle through, the bark must be peeled away evenly. Since the intent of each sword move varies wildly, you must introduce countless variations to your true qi circulation to craft a proper wooden sword. You have likely heard tales of masters facing their foes with a mere branch snapped from the roadside, yes? You can view this as an extension of such anecdotes. For a shockwave to be properly delivered, it must itself be honed.”
This was a training method to master the profound secrets of linking sword forms. Though he spoke of it lightly, it was undoubtedly a secret transmission of the sect. For Yeon-shin, whose swordplay was still unrefined, it would be of immense help—far more than for those who practiced fully established martial arts like Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Art.
If there was a gap in his transitions, he would inevitably suffer a repeat of what happened when the Commander of the Law Enforcement Unit broke through his Radiant Brilliance Sword Style. This remained true no matter how powerful each individual form was.
“To make a wooden sword…” the boy murmured.
Gazing quietly at his junior swordsman, Perfected Heavenly Pillar asked, “Would you like to try?”
“Yes.”
Yeon-shin nodded readily. His judgment was as clear as the qi in his Upper Dantian. His swordplay lacked a profound link, a unifying thread that ran through all its forms. He knew that during this Alliance gathering, his nameless sword art would finally be completed.
“It is fortunate we have an evergreen nearby. Pine trees look sturdy, but up close, they are quite finicky. They are the best for training.”
Perfected Heavenly Pillar cut off another club-like branch. As always, a sharp shockwave swept through the air.
This time, Yeon-shin caught it. A rough texture filled his palm. It was extremely thick.
“Hone a single wooden sword cleanly. That is all. Your sword moves will be bound completely into a single style. That is what true swordplay is. I trust it won't take you long.”
Yeon-shin channeled his internal power as he listened to Perfected Heavenly Pillar.
The halo rotated within his heart, and the Law-Transcending Halo Qi arising from that wheel of light flowed straight into his palms.
At the same time, the shockwave dwelling within the Laogong points of his palms whipped up like a gale. It was the first form of his nameless swordplay.
Crack!
He clearly felt the bark being shaved away, but the moment he gathered the residual shockwave to execute the second form, the branch crumbled into pieces.
A small puff of dust brushed over Yeon-shin's hand.
Beside him, Yu-hyeon exclaimed, “So there is something you can’t do!”
“Don't laugh,” the boy muttered, tasting an unfamiliar failure. It was a natural reaction, even for someone who had never had a friend his own age before.
Yu-hyeon's smile vanished without a trace. Watching from across the table, the Small Sword Empress let out an amused breath.
“It's not easy, is it? It would be so even for you. The more profound the forms, the harder this training becomes.”
“It is difficult to fashion even a single edge.”
“Even crafting a wooden saber, let alone a double-edged sword, requires a considerable level of mastery. Especially so with your sword moves. Yes, aim for a single-edged blade first.”
“Thank you for your guidance.”
In response to the boy's clasped-hand salute, Perfected Heavenly Pillar brought his own hands together. Though he spoke informally due to their past connection, his gesture showed he was treating Yeon-shin, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, as an equal.
“It may be a humble training method, but the greater your struggle, the more immense your achievement will be. So, please devote yourself to your training as a small token of my gratitude. The role of the Desolate Fortress is more critical now than ever. With martial power like yours, you could save thousands of lives.”
Perfected Heavenly Pillar spoke in a solemn tone.
He was not referring solely to the Unorthodox Factions. The stance of the Martial World Alliance was clear.
While the immortals of the Nine Sects remained passive regarding worldly affairs, the Alliance—whose leadership consisted primarily of the great families—dreamed of overthrowing the Desolate Fortress. The Jianghu, in their eyes, had to be a world of free masters.
The martial clans were groups that gathered and dispersed in such a land. They gained renown by clashing with the Unorthodox Factions. Whenever they had the leeway, they helped the common people to spread their chivalrous names. Yet, where the eyes of the world did not reach, they used their martial might to secure their own interests.
Even as they routinely demolished taverns and Guandi temples, they walked above the clouds, shouting about the non-interference between the government and the martial world. Such a "pure" ecosystem was the ideal world for the various clans to acquire name, power, and wealth.
However, after the expulsion of the Yuan Dynasty, the Ming Imperial Family was established, and the rise of local aristocrats who grew powerful through martial arts was more taboo than ever. The Jianghu held its breath under the razor-sharp blade of the Desolate Fortress. The order and livelihood of the people were established as the highest priority.
The martial sects were suppressed. Naturally, discontent accumulated. The repercussions from the destruction of the Hwangbo Clan and the extermination of the Namgung direct line were also immense—to the point where the aristocratic clans of the martial world would stop at nothing to secure their own interests.
Yeon-shin truly realized these circumstances after seeing off the distinguished guests of the Nine Sects. It was right after he successfully crafted a single-edged wooden saber on his second attempt.
“A wooden saber, what in the…!”
The memory of the young Taoist's pale, astonished face had barely faded when the young Commander of the Demonlight Wing ushered Jegal Cheong-a inside the main gate.
He had told her to come find him once the Sect Founding Ceremony was over. She was here as instructed.
Now, amidst the commotion of Eon Family's Number One Fist falling to the Commander of the Demonlight Wing, the handsome young unit commander and the girl, stiff with tension, stood facing each other by the pond.
Brown, dried pine needles scattered in the wind.
Under a sky of exceptionally deep indigo, Yeon-shin asked why she was there. He held the wooden saber pointing downward.
“Speak.”
Jegal Cheong-a trembled under the calm gaze of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
Perhaps because she had witnessed his duel with Eon Hwa-ryeon, her small lips, which were usually set in an indifferent line, seemed somewhat dry.
The girl slowly parted them.
“If you listen to what I have to say, you will have to fight your way through many people in a short time. Renowned, elite martial artists…”
“I said, speak.”
Suddenly feeling a sharp ache in his knees, the boy furrowed his brow.
It usually hurt at night, but now it was acting up during the day as well. The familiar pain brought a wave of irritation. Again. I'll have to adjust my combat rhythm and train again.