Chapter 199: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style (7)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 199: Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style (7)
A soft gasp escaped the lips of the Martial World Alliance's supreme master.
The old swordsman’s eye was extraordinary. He could see right through the state of mind of any swordsman who took a stance before him. The grip on the hilt, the balance of the body, the placement of the feet, the very nature of the energy radiating from their entire being…
Through these myriad details, he could measure his opponent. The eyes of a peerless swordsman could pierce through an adversary, regardless of any mastery of eye techniques. It was even possible to gauge their character before a single strike was exchanged.
‘How peculiar.’
Hyeon So-baek carefully observed his young junior’s opening stance.
His high stance was exceptional. The black robe he wore fluttered without cease, draped in shockwaves as if it were a garment woven from the wind itself. To the master of the blade known as the Sword Saint, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing's presence seemed like a defense mechanism against his own mortality.
Hyeon So-baek saw the martial arts of a genius as no different from the melodies spun by an artist. They shared a common thread: the creator’s mental state was deeply imbued within them.
He couldn't tell how this sword would evolve. It was said that the Lord of the Desolate Fortress wielded a sword like solemn nature itself. Had the Commander of the Demonlight Wing infused the wind into his swordplay to follow in his master’s footsteps?
On the surface, he stirred up storms, but his muscles and true qi moved with the relentless speed of lightning. Beneath the shell of an outstanding genius lay the figure of a human curled up in anxiety.
As a man, Hyeon So-baek felt pity for the boy.
But as the Sword Saint, it was different. As a peerless swordsman, he was filled with admiration for his junior.
‘A fast sword that utilizes the entire body to perfection.’
It was a truly sublime style of rapid offense. One could feel his intent to strike first, no matter the target. The unique, free-flowing shockwaves of the new Commander of the Demonlight Wing swirled around him. It was a wind that resembled the abilities of the Brightfolk, poised to bolster his sword’s force no matter where he struck. The red autumn leaves at his feet were swept away in a chaotic flurry.
“It’s irritating that I can’t find a single fault with him.”
Sitting behind the Flash Art, the Thousand-Fist Dragon-Strength Retainer, Hahu Wi-jin, propped a knee up and rested his elbow on it. He let out a rough snort. As a supreme master of a noble clan, he was experiencing a peculiar sensation.
“Qilin's Judgment.”
The murmur came from Jegal Cheong-a, who was staring intently at the Commander of the Demonlight Wing.
Standing to one side, Ak Ye-rim flinched. A complex mix of emotions filled her gaze as she looked at the Flash Art. The recent events between the Commander of the Demonlight Wing and the Jegal Clan had put a definitive exclamation point on her confusion. She felt as if her world were collapsing. She had been completely overwhelmed by the Desolate Fortress's rising star in terms of both martial arts and righteousness. The world of the Orthodox Factions, so firmly established within her, had been shattered.
As the legitimate successor of the Shandong Ak Clan, she no longer knew how she should conduct herself.
‘Flash Art…’
Meanwhile, the duel between the old man and the youth proceeded, indifferent to the onlookers' thoughts.
“Take your time.”
The Sword Saint did not rush to strike. He waited for his junior to fully unleash his capabilities. The boy was a genius who could control his entire body at will. The longer he spent honing his sword momentum, the more his prowess would evolve.
Wuuuung—!
And indeed, it did.
A pressure similar to the Imperial Sword Form began to emanate from the Flash Art's body. Yet, the Sword Saint knew it was a completely different art. It was an intuitive realization. There was a vast difference in the nature of their martial arts; this was not a momentum unleashed to suppress an opponent.
Rather, the shockwaves he emitted simply to enhance his own movements were exerting pressure on his surroundings. It was a haughty, independent sword art.
‘He has completely tailored his sword momentum to his own body.’
The Sword Saint stroked his beloved sword with his left hand. He recalled a line of poetry that a young man known as the Hero of the Desolate Fortress had once recited, a line that had become quite famous. As a swordsman, the phrase ‘A youth's fleeting moment is worth a thousand pieces of gold’ resonated far more deeply than ‘To forever forge a worthy rival in the sword.’
This was a sword move that only the Commander of the Demonlight Wing could properly execute. An ordinary person would not even dare to utilize such shockwaves in a sword strike.
With that, his preparation seemed complete.
The moment the youthful old swordsman fell into a brief reverie, the Commander of the Demonlight Wing’s figure rapidly expanded in his vision.
He leaped, bringing his sword down. The sunlight catching his blade fell like a bolt of lightning.
Claaang—!
It clashed violently with Hyeon So-baek's sword.
A fierce shockwave rippled in all directions. A shower of maple leaves soared into the air, obscuring the figures of the old man and the youth. Bathed in the dappled red sunlight, they fluttered down like sleet. In that instant, the new Commander of the Demonlight Wing's talent was revealed.
‘Hmm?’
Amidst the scattering light and red leaves, the Sword Saint's eyes widened slightly. The boy was no longer in the same stance.
The white character for Desolate (荒) swirled among the leaves. Immediately after unleashing his sword force, he had spun his entire body. The shockwaves of his movement technique, combined with the recoil, whipped up a whirlwind. The rustling of his robes was fierce. With truly sensational agility, the Flash Art unleashed a second, lightning-fast strike.
‘He isn't trying to match me in strength. Wise.’
The Northern Light Sword drew a diagonal arc, plunging downward once more. The air tore under the onslaught of the white blade. Though it was a repetition of the first form, it took a completely different shape. The speed of the diagonal strike was barely different from the first. As if the high stance had been nothing more than a starting posture, the sharply howling sword wind alone clawed at the Sword Saint's sleeves.
For the Flash Art, there was no need to distinguish forms by their shape. As long as he mastered the principles of execution, he possessed the talent to deliver dozens of different attacks using a single form. After just two exchanges, the corners of the Sword Saint's eyes curved into a smile.
Sword talent. Truly, a genius of the sword.
Hyeon So-baek forgot his pity and smiled with deep satisfaction, gripping his wooden sword and striking diagonally. The principles of the Heaven-Piercing Mura Sword Technique were loaded into the simple trajectory. Seventh Form: Indestructible.
A colorless shockwave shot from his arm to the tip of his sword in an instant. It was an unwavering, single-strike sword move.
Boom! Keeeeeeng—!
The clashing blades grated against each other in a prolonged screech as the Flash Art's downward strike was deflected upward. Their sword paths merged in a violent tremor. Because the Sword Saint's grip was so steadfast, orange sparks flew smoothly, sending the full force of the recoil back to his opponent.
Rumble.
The hand of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing holding the sword vibrated violently. It was a miracle he didn't drop it. Even considering that the Sword Saint, feeling indebted to his junior, had held back to broaden the boy's horizons, it was still an impressive feat.
While experiencing a rare sense of exhilaration, Hyeon So-baek was also deeply astonished. He instantly understood the Lord of the Desolate Fortress's true intentions. Even she would have had no choice. How could anyone turn a blind eye to such a child?
Clang! Clang-clang! Shhhk!
Sparks scattered in all directions, withering away like flower petals. The hems of their black and white robes fluttered alongside the maple leaves. The sunlight shimmered along the blades brushing past their collars, their long breaths of internal energy intersected, the shockwaves of their footwork echoed from the ground with each step, and the fallen leaves rustled and crumbled beneath their feet.
The eyes of the onlookers gradually widened.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing was fully holding his own against the Sword Saint's guidance. While exchanging blows in breaths too short to unleash any grand forms, he spun thirty-five variations out of a single form. Every single one had a different trajectory. An endless barrage of sword strikes stormed from every direction.
To an untrained eye, it would have seemed as if that single form was an entire sword style in itself.
‘He is replacing form with pure intuition. That is a technique you cannot use even if you learn it.’
So thought the Perfected Heavenly Pillar of Mount Hua. It was a sight he worried might have a bad influence on Yu-hyeon, who stood beside him with his mouth agape. Normally, the foundation of a sword art is built only after swinging a blade tens of thousands of times. Yet, the Flash Art's sword style had short, sensory routines, as if he had skipped that entire process. His body instinctively knew when and in which direction to strike. If that weren't the case, his management of shockwaves during rapid attacks could never be so natural.
In a close-quarters exchange of single strikes, he had no need for fixed forms beyond the method of circulating his internal power. His talent had transcended years of training. He was an astonishing genius of the sword.
The Sword Saint's attitude was equally surprising. With a broad smile on his face, he parried the Flash Art's sword moves. It was highly uncharacteristic of a peerless master who, due to his eccentric nature, usually refused to show his face even at sect founding ceremonies. Dozens of sword lights intertwined elegantly. He seemed deeply engrossed in the exchange with his junior, as if nothing in the world could be more delightful.
The Alliance's intention to humiliate the expert from the Desolate Fortress was utterly shattered.
Without blinking, the Perfected Heavenly Pillar spoke. "Perhaps the Alliance Leader should take a disciple as well. I understand the rising stars of the noble families are strong candidates. The Sword Saint's lineage will become the symbol of the Alliance, but I wonder if a suitable successor will ever appear…"
"After seeing that? Who would dare step forward?" replied the Tang Clan Leader, his short arms clasped behind his back.
At that moment, Jeong Yeon-shin realized the duel was drawing to a close. He spun his body in a wide arc along with his sword. The burden on his meridians had reached its limit. The accumulated impact of the shockwaves was constricting the fine vessels in his right arm.
The Sword Saint was a peerless master. He had redirected all the force generated during the fight back to Jeong Yeon-shin. Since even the body protection qi draped over his body was inferior to the old swordsman's, not even he could rely solely on his physical durability.
‘The final strike.’
The tendons on the back of his hand bulged. An energy wave rose from the elegant line of his triceps. A transparent wave of internal power pulsed heavily. The muscle fibers tingled all the way down to his thumb. This was the energy he had accumulated while bearing the burden, combined with the Sword Saint's own sword force.
Hyeon So-baek's eyebrows shot up.
‘He has harvested it all like a farmer.’
Jeong Yeon-shin pressed forward, heedless of the Sword Saint's expression. The hilt in his hand had grown burning hot. An explosion of true qi erupted from the ground as he pushed off. He swung the Northern Light Sword.
It was a horizontal slash extending from the inside of his body outward. The maple leaves crumbled within the long, lingering white radiance.
Autumn had settled upon the sword’s path.
Whoosh—!
The Sword Saint, Hyeon So-baek, faced a form born of endurance. The peerless swordsman's eyes narrowed.
‘How could he think of such a thing…'
It was a sword move that endured and endured, only to burst forth with brilliant light. It was not a blade that should be wielded with such an indifferent expression, yet it seemed to be a style created without any elaborate concepts.
The Sword Saint found that aspect sorrowful. It carried the intent that if one simply endured, they would eventually see the end. He could feel a sense of pent-up grief. Through a single strike, he perceived the boy's entire attitude toward life.
The Sword Saint did not strike back.
Swish.
Lowering his sword, he executed an evasive footwork technique. As if using the earth-shrinking art, he parted the heap of maple leaves beneath his feet and stepped aside. At the same time, a terrifying shockwave from the sword strike swept past his flank.
Craaaash!
An invisible sword wind surged forward, carving a sharp path through the shredded shrubbery. The shockwave, unleashing immense destructive power, reached the edge of the garden's pond, drawing long ripples across the water. Only after lingering with the clear sound of waves for a long moment did the sword wind finally dissipate.
“……”
Silence fell.
The Commander of the Demonlight Wing lowered his divine sword, his brow furrowing. Seeing that he looked ready to demand an explanation, regardless of whether his opponent was the Sword Saint or not, Hyeon So-baek spoke first.
“You kept executing a single form, only to change your sword momentum at the very end. What is the name of the first form?”
“…It is Qilin's Judgment.”
He respects his elders well enough, the Sword Saint thought, clasping his hands behind his back.
“And the second?”
“I haven't named it yet.”
“That is rather fortunate, then.” The Sword Saint, Hyeon So-baek, smiled. “What name would suit such sublime swordsmanship? This old man hopes that you will remain in autumn for a long time, never touching the frozen earth before you wish to. Ever azure.”
“……”
He was speaking of the boy's lifespan. It was just like Heonwon Chang's poetry—a manner of speech whose meaning was hard to grasp unless one was in the know. The remark reminded Jeong Yeon-shin of how the man had wanted to embrace him upon their very first meeting.
The Sword Saint continued. “Yes, ‘the ever-azure sword’ sounds fitting. I pray that its azure hue flows endlessly, like the Yangtze River. May I offer you the name Nine Azure Rivers (九碧成河)?”
So spoke the absolute master of the blade.
Nine (九) was a widely beloved number on the continent because its pronunciation was nearly identical to the word for long-lasting (久). It also carried the meaning of longevity. A sword style that remained azure for a long time, flowing like the great river. It felt similar to the very essence of the form itself.
Jeong Yeon-shin slowly nodded.
“…I shall do so.”
The Sword Saint's expression brightened. It was as if old age and youth coexisted within his middle-aged face. They said there wasn't a single peerless master who wasn't eccentric, and Hyeon So-baek indeed possessed a unique temperament.
And so, the final event of the Alliance Foundation Ceremony came to an end.
The duel between the Sword Saint and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had been a matter of utmost interest, but the masters gathered here were those who dwelt at the very peak of the Jianghu. Today's events would not spread as mere rumors. However, Jeong Yeon-shin had gained more than enough fame from his journey to the Alliance. He had also fully synthesized his swordplay.
Sliiiide.
With the quiet sound of a sheathing blade, the dim radiance was sucked back into the scabbard. His waist vibrated faintly. Jeong Yeon-shin fell into deep thought as he put away the Northern Light Sword. The sword moves he had conceived in Hanzhong unfolded in his mind.
First Form: Qilin's Judgment (審克麒麟).
Second Form: Nine Azure Rivers (九碧成河).
Third Form: Azure Flame First Form (靑炎一式).
These three forms laid the foundation for the Commander of the Demonlight Wing's signature technique. He did not yet know how many more trajectories would be created in the future. It was a sword style harboring infinite possibilities.
“It looks like the way you use your sword has completely changed.”
Yu-hyeon approached without hesitation. The fact that the Mount Hua Sect's hidden dragon and the Commander of the Demonlight Wing had formed a friendship was already widely known. He was unlike the other rising stars, who hesitated to even take a step toward them.
“It's your own unique sword style, right?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of martial art is it? I feel like it's going to become famous. It definitely will.”
All eyes turned toward them at Yu-hyeon's question. It wasn't just the rising stars; it was a question that even drew the attention of the supreme masters who were walking away. The new Commander of the Demonlight Wing lowered his gaze slightly, lost in thought.
‘This sword style…’
Its nature was distinct. It blended subtlety into a fast and destructive sword path. It was faithful to the inherent purpose of a sword: a method of turning the blade into lightning to strike down enemies. The intent to flatten the Jianghu sects that surrounded the Desolate Fortress like rugged hills.
The words slipped from his lips unconsciously.
“Lightning-Flash Sword Ridge Style (劍雷殲陵劍).”
It was a brief reply.
Suddenly,
Sshhh—
The autumn wind that had been coolly caressing the garden drifted away. Fallen leaves, scattered like old cotton, blanketed the ground. A few yellow and red leaves fluttering in the air gently landed on the bridge of Jeong Yeon-shin's foot. It seemed to announce the end of his long mission to the Alliance.
At the very end of autumn, before the eyes of numerous masters, the sword style of the Commander of the Demonlight Wing made its name known to the world.