Chapter 435: Grandmaster (9)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 435: Grandmaster (9)
The atmosphere had shifted, descending into a profound stillness.
They say a duel between high-level masters broadens the horizons of lesser martial artists, but today's match carried a weight far beyond simple observation.
“…….”
In the spectator stands where hundreds had gathered, only a tiny fraction dared to whisper. As if keeping pace with the breathless silence of the crowd, even the wind seemed to blow sluggishly. The humid air shimmered like waves under the scorching sun.
Amidst the solemn gravity that hung over the arena, only the voices of the two standing on the duel stage rang out clearly.
“I knew you would come out.”
“I didn't expect you to step up. Aren't you the head disciple of Diancang?”
“My start was the same as the current second-generation disciples. The Sect Leader only began teaching me after that. The Desolate Fortress's selection is free of age constraints, so there's no need for my sect to send an older second-generation disciple to face you, is there? If you lack confidence, I can step down.”
The woman, around twenty years of age, spoke with a gentle, smiling gaze. A dark-colored precious sword was fastened to the sash wrapped around her waist. Her appearance was extraordinary. She wore scarlet silk light armor, and her pitch-black hair cascaded down past her waist.
Unlike her seemingly gentle impression, the momentum radiating from her entire body was sharply honed. It felt as if a human had transformed into a drawn blade. She possessed an exceptionally outstanding talent for the sword.
The Small Sword Empress, Chwi So-ok.
The future of the Diancang Sect had stepped forward right from the start. This was one of the reasons the crowd held its breath. The Desolate Fortress had no chance of winning.
“No. I actually prefer it this way.”
Inhaling sharply, the girl clenched her fists.
Shin So-bin, the White Cat, known as the direct disciple of the Lotus Nezha, Seomye. Her pristine white sleeves, fluttering spotlessly in the wind, bore testament to her noble birth.
At the same time, Chwi So-ok drew her sword. With a sharp shring, a smooth silver arc was etched into the air.
“Bare-handed, I see. What about your weapon...?”
At her question, Shin So-bin slightly raised both fists to her waist.
“The Infinite Flower of Time Fist, the Scripture of Initial Overcoming, the Radiant Wing Step... whatever works.”
“I see. They did say you were the orthodox successor of the Flash Art lineage. I studied the Sun-Shooting Sword Technique and the Heavenly Yang Divine Step under my sect.”
It was a plain response. Having politely acknowledged her opponent's standing without making a fuss, Chwi So-ok turned her head toward one side of the spectator stands.
The absolute masters of the Jianghu were looking down at the duel stage. The lineup was staggering. Including the sect leaders of five of the Nine Sects, the Wudang Ancient Sword, and the Desolate Fortress Purple Ranks. The very people who had convened the Mount Hua Agreement had gathered in one place for the first time.
An invisible pressure dwelt in their gazes. They exuded the power of divine arts without even intending to. From a martial artist's perspective, none of them seemed human. It was difficult to even raise one's eyes to look at them.
‘Incarnations of divine ultimate techniques...’
The existence of Jeong Yeon-shin, who sat among them despite not even being twenty, felt utterly incomprehensible. Thus, the sight of him silently watching Shin So-bin at this moment was striking. His eyelashes cast shadows under the sunlight, and his brow was slightly furrowed, as if he were already deeply immersed in the fight to come.
Chwi So-ok had encountered such an atmosphere more than a few times. It was no different from when an old master with little time left in his life looked upon his true successor. The face of one facing the deepest imprint of their life, their final remaining legacy.
It was bizarre. Wasn't that too early an expression for a young Purple Rank to make?
‘Are they betrothed through the Desolate Shin Clan? It didn't seem like that, though.’
Chwi So-ok shook her head inwardly. How would that face change if she won? She didn't particularly look forward to it, but there was no other way. She, too, carried the honor of her sect on her shoulders.
[Begin.]
The Six Harmonies Sound Transmission of Abbot Beomheo of Shaolin rang out. The wave of Supreme Great Ability carried in his voice was as heavy as a temple bell. This was after a round of well-wishes had already been exchanged.
Turning her head back toward her opponent, Chwi So-ok's eyes widened slightly.
“I am ready.”
Having loosened her limbs, Shin So-bin took her fist art's starting stance. With a soft swoosh, she drew a half-circle with one leg as if sweeping the ground and stepped back, a wave of dust rising along her toes. It was the precursor to the Radiant Wing Step.
Watching this scene intently, Chwi So-ok spoke.
“Why aren't you a Blue Rank?”
“Isn't it for a similar reason to why you came out to face a White Rank?” Shin So-bin replied, tilting her head slightly.
In truth, as soon as she heard the rumors about the Mount Hua Agreement, she had postponed her Blue Rank promotion, which was already underway at the time. It was to ensure absolute victory. Her grandfather, the Head of the Desolate Fortress Elder Council, and her mother, the Head of the Desolate Shin Clan, had been greatly shocked and tried to stop her, but their words fell on deaf ears.
As if any further words were unnecessary at this moment, the ground shattered beneath her feet.
Thud!
She kicked off the stage and lunged forward. The sound of the air was fierce. A rush that seemed to crush the wind with her entire body. In an instant, the distance began to close.
Chwi So-ok, adjusting her grip on her sword, showed a gleam of intrigue in her eyes instead of sharp light. It was a truly reckless momentum. Was she trying to settle the match in a single exchange without even testing the waters?
She must have found it burdensome to drag out the exchanges against the thousand-year-old martial arts of the Nine Sects. After all, wasn't the strength of the Flash Art lineage in short, decisive battles?
‘Because her opponent is me.’
The title of Small Sword Empress was not an easy name to obtain at her age. Excluding monsters like the Five Bright Vessels, or the White Qilin, the Lazy Flame Dragon, the Sun Lotus Sword Enchantress, the Hero of the Desolate Fortress, Mount Hua's Hidden Dragon, the Young Lord of Heaven's Bane, the Young Master of Taemo Mountain Fortress, and the Eon Family Fist Dragon, she could be considered the absolute best of the rising stars.
It was not a realm where the White Cat of the Desolate Fortress could set foot.
Hum—
Her precious sword let out a resonant ring.
If she were a Shaolin martial monk or a Wudang disciple, she would have fortified her defense here. For they possessed divine arts sturdier than the northern walls. But the Diancang Sect was different. They dealt in the most primal methods. Born in Yunnan, a land teeming with strange, violent, chaotic, and supernatural forces, exotic flowers, and all kinds of tribal clans, their sword tips left no room for retreat.
Yet, they were counted among the Nine Orthodox Sects. This meant their depth was terrifying.
‘A short, decisive battle? My sect has spent hundreds of years fighting exactly like that.’
She arched her back slightly.
Swoosh.
Like a drawn bowstring. It was the starting stance of the Body Protection Scripture: Bow Body Springing Shadow.
It was the moment Shin So-bin stomped her foot heavily about ten steps away. A faint, whitish energy surged up from Chwi So-ok's lower spine to her shoulder blades. The moment stone fragments scattered in all directions, Chwi So-ok launched her entire body forward.
Whoosh!
Her figure surged forward as if flying. Her instantaneous acceleration was truly staggering, incomparable to Shin So-bin's.
Chwi So-ok thrust her sword forward in midair. Simultaneously, a deep blue light erupted like sparks from the tip of her precious sword. It was the Sun-Shooting Sword Qi.
Blood erupted from the body of Shin So-bin, who was lowering her stance after planting her foot. This was the result of being hit helplessly by the sword qi that sealed her movements. Though she winced, she pulled her fist back to her flank, chambering it. The vibration from her previous stomp had already traveled up to her waist.
‘Infinite Flower of Time Hand: Advancing Thunder...!’
Twisting her body, she threw her fist. From right to left. It was a punch that heavily struck the side of the sword, which had already reached right before her eyes.
Boom!
A heavy vibration penetrated the surface of her fist. Shin So-bin pressed forward, unbothered. It took only an instant for her elbow, which had naturally bounced off after striking the sword, to slam into Chwi So-ok's shoulder. It was a pre-prepared release of force.
As a circular shockwave erupted in a pale flash, Chwi So-ok's upper body tilted heavily to the side. Yet, Chwi So-ok did not even let out a groan. Before anyone knew it, she was thrusting her left palm beneath her right hand, which held the sword.
Her palm slid and made contact with Shin So-bin's abdomen. The Diancang Sect's Great Arch Palm Technique immediately unleashed a translucent force. Chwi So-ok's left hand did not stop at merely executing the palm technique. She grabbed the wrist of Shin So-bin, who was being blown backward, and pulled her back in. At the same time, she swung her sword, now held in a reverse grip in her right hand, toward Shin So-bin's neck.
Stopping a fast sword thrust at full power mid-swing was not difficult for the head disciple of Diancang. She intended to end the duel by placing the blade against her opponent's neck.
‘To show that even in a short, decisive battle, my sect reigns supreme...’
Chwi So-ok could not pursue her thoughts any further.
Suddenly, Shin So-bin's upper body dropped low. Having regained her balance in an instant, she sank into a horse stance. She would not be pulled. Her captured arm was forced downward, letting out a sickening crack. Her long, braided black hair naturally flew upward and was cleanly sliced by Chwi So-ok's sword.
Strands of hair scattered in the air.
A colorless spark of lightning flashed in Shin So-bin's eyes. Time was flowing at an extremely slow pace. She thought: Now is the time.
At first, it was curiosity about the martial arts created by a senior of her own age, and after that, she was drawn to the mnemonics that felt as if they were being chased by something. The sentiment embedded throughout the martial art. That somehow fast and desperate feeling.
She had always tried to fathom the intent of Jeong Yeon-shin imbued within the martial art. Her training had been a continuous process of guessing with what heart Jeong Yeon-shin had created each stance, and that interpretation had long since penetrated deep into her body. It was as if her entire body's acupoints were made of Jeong Yeon-shin.
It echoed in her mind.
—Stop chasing me.
You damn time.
The mnemonic that compressed the duel to an extreme degree settled into Shin So-bin's heel. It was the Radiant Wing Step. Without even lifting her toes, she slammed her heel down once more.
Crackle!
The footwork shockwave that erupted from the ground dispersed, completely neutralizing the invisible force and blue sword qi that had enveloped Chwi So-ok's entire body.
“……!”
The blade of the Diancang precious sword struck weakly against Shin So-bin's collarbone.
Chwi So-ok, who had changed her grip above her head with astonishing skill to hold the base of the blade and strike downward, widened her eyes. It was because no power had been delivered into the strike. Simultaneously, Shin So-bin unleashed a punch with her fist chambered from behind her waist.
Following her fist, dozens of small ripples were etched into the air, one after another.
Clang—!
The air shook. The punch shattered layers of invisible body protection qi and slammed into Chwi So-ok's flank. A cloud of dust billowed up from beneath their feet.
Chwi So-ok coughed up blood. Now, the two were practically embracing each other.
A metallic clang echoed from the stage floor. Chwi So-ok had dropped her sword.
“What... stance is this?”
“The Infinite Flower of Time Fist: Fist Flower. It's the third stance.”
While some in the crowd gasped, Shin So-bin let her completely dislocated left arm hang limply.
“I thought I would win,” she muttered softly.
Chwi So-ok, who was placing her fingers on the death point of Shin So-bin's neck with her sword-free hand, let out a small laugh.
“That Fist Flower stance, it incorporates the Internal Heavy Hand Technique, doesn't it? If you had put more power into it, my dantian might have shattered.”
“Yes, well...”
“Let's call it a draw. It's getting hard for me to move as well... and it's not like someone has to die, right?”
The two slowly stepped back. Both were in a wretched state. Needless to say, Shin So-bin had taken the Sun-Shooting Sword Qi with her entire body and even broken her own arm. Chwi So-ok, who had coughed up blood from severe internal and external injuries, also looked heavily battered. In particular, her right arm, which had held the sword, was trembling violently.
Looking down at them with his single eye from the platform, the Shaolin Abbot slowly spoke.
[Following the wise judgment of the benefactors, I declare a draw.]
The words that concluded the first duel between the great sects. Only after the voice of Divine Monk Beomheo rang out did the venue erupt with cheers. Along with words of admiration for the spirit and talent of the two rising stars, and the divine ultimate techniques they had mastered.
Sigh.
Shin So-bin let out a deep sigh and raised her head. Her eyes immediately met those of Jeong Yeon-shin, who was sitting in the leaders' spectator section. Her grandmaster was wearing quite a sight of an expression.
Others would see only the typical composure of a Desolate Fortress Purple Rank on that face, but the experts of the Demonlight Wing could read the young commander's heart through even the slightest change in expression. Right now, a hint of gravity could be seen.
Shin So-bin lightly lifted her hair, which had been cut short near her ears.
“Does it suit me?”
“Now you finally look the part for close-quarters combat.”
It was a brief reply. Sitting beside Jeong Yeon-shin with his short legs crossed, the Perfected Ancient Sword smiled faintly. Lady Yul-ha's lips also curved into a smile. These were people who had experience raising disciples.
Meanwhile, in a spot somewhat removed from them, an old woman holding a sword nodded, commending Chwi So-ok's hard work. The wrinkled face of the Sword Empress, Geum Seon-seon, was like a clear lake. She did not lose her composure even though the victory she had originally anticipated had slipped away.
“…….”
In the silence, the sword immortal of the great mountains of Yunnan silently awaited her turn.
* * *
It was now the Desolate Fortress's turn to send out a Blue-robed Warrior.
The Lazy Flame Dragon stepped forward. His opponent was a first-generation disciple about ten years older than Chwi So-ok, the Pure Yang Sword Lee Cheong, who had once dominated the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering south of the Yangtze River. He was also known to have completely mastered all of the first seven stances of the Sun-Shooting Sword Technique.
The Lazy Flame Dragon won.
Using the ultimate technique "Flame River" of the Infinite Flower of Time Hand, he practically swept away both his opponent and the stage. He completely incinerated the opponent's sword and clothing. A wide scorch mark was etched into the stage floor. It almost looked like a hasty brushstroke.
“If I had carved my name here, that would have been quite a sight too.”
No, not yet. The Lazy Flame Dragon rubbed his brow as he stepped down from the stage.
“Anyway, what a shame. This blue color feels a bit insufficient to contain this young master's skills.”
“I will pray for your Black Rank promotion. I am sure you can do it, Young Master Hwangbo.”
Sitting where the Desolate Fortress experts had gathered, Namgung Hwa-shin encouraged the Lazy Flame Dragon with a serious face. The poppy addict of the Demonlight Wing looked at the younger brother of his deceased friend with a strange expression. If the Great Tongue Sword had said it, it would have surely been a tease, but Namgung Hwa-shin was far from joking.
Meanwhile, below the stage, Ma Jin was facing a middle-aged swordsman. The Naraka Reaper of the Desolate Fortress and the Moon-Piercing Divine Sword of Diancang. Below the Purple Ranks and the Sect Leaders, they were practically the strongest forces of the two great sects.
The Lazy Flame Dragon glanced at Namgung Hwa-shin.
“I am in the middle of learning it. He said it is not yet time,” Namgung Hwa-shin said. His face was no longer shadowed. This was true even though the experts of the Namgung Clan were watching him from the spectator stands across the stage. He carried an air of having found his center.
Just then, a loud roar echoed from the stage. The Naraka Reaper and the Moon-Piercing Divine Sword had exchanged a single blow. Before anyone knew it, Ma Jin's blackened prosthetic arm was rolling on the ground, while the Moon-Piercing Divine Sword also let his arm hang limply, having dropped his sword.
The two bowed to each other and stepped down from the stage. Abbot Beomheo declared a draw.
With that, the excitement in the spectator stands reached its peak. However, no more cheers erupted. Contrary to the blazing, scorching atmosphere of this moment, the surrounding noise sank endlessly. And in the end, not a single sound could be heard.
“…….”
When had she stepped up?
Before anyone realized it, a woman was standing in the middle of the stage. She held a sword whose blade was filled with pure white light, letting it hang down. It felt as if the massive stage, large enough to hold hundreds of people, was completely filled by this single person.
The Sword Empress.
She did not look like an old woman. With the appearance of a beauty who looked even younger than the Small Sword Empress, she gripped the hilt of her sword, her long hair fluttering smoothly like ebony behind her back. She had regained her youth in an instant through her immense orthodox internal energy. A robust yet transcendent aura flowed from her entire body.
She slowly parted her lips.
“I am Geum Seon-seon of Diancang.”
“I am Jeong Yeon-shin of the Desolate Fortress.”
Before anyone knew it, the newly appointed Purple Rank was facing her. As the midday sun poured down brilliantly, the hem of the long robe he wore fluttered in the color of sunset, as if bringing an early dusk.
“…Your bearing resembles his.”
“Do you mean my maternal grandfather?”
The Sword Empress nodded at Jeong Yeon-shin's words.
“He was a man who galloped through the Jianghu with an untamed nature just like yours. I thought we would meet again someday.”
“He is not quite like me, but he is still in good health.”
“Some memories are better left as just memories. I have no desire to see him in his old age.”
The Sword Empress shook her head slightly. Then, she gestured with her chin toward Jeong Yeon-shin.
“Let us begin.”
Jeong Yeon-shin, who had been staring at her, opened his mouth, drawing his sword with one hand.
“May I strike as you command?”
“I am always ready.”
“…In that case.”
Those were his final words. The duel between peerless masters began as abruptly as that. First, Jeong Yeon-shin's figure vanished as if sinking into the spot where he stood.
And suddenly, like an illusion, the vast stage split in a straight line.
It was cut in two by a dash that had transformed into a flash of light in an instant. It happened before the crowd could even blink.
Flickering in and out of existence, Jeong Yeon-shin surged forward, his entire being extending like a jagged bolt of lightning tearing through the mortal realm. In his grip, the Divine Sword: Lingering Thunder thrust outward, a strike so profoundly fast and absolute that it seemed to transcend the very fabric of space itself. It was merely a single thrust, yet it carried the weight of a natural disaster. The tip of his blade, moving as though it had accelerated along an entirely different axis of time, arrived at its destination before the eye could even register the motion, colliding head-on with the blade the Sword Empress had intuitively raised to defend herself.
At first, there was absolutely no sound. An eerie, absolute silence descended upon the grand arena, as if the sheer velocity of the clash had outpaced the world's ability to process it. The laws of physics seemed to hold their breath in the face of such overwhelming martial prowess.
“……!”
A jagged crack materialized on the surface of the blade the Sword Empress had put forward, a spiderweb of fracturing steel that existed for only a fleeting, breathless moment. Then, the true kinetic force of the impact manifested in full. Much like the calm surface of a pristine lake violently disturbed by a massive falling boulder, transparent ripples of distorted air violently expanded outward from the point of collision. The spatial distortion rippled through the atmosphere, carrying an overwhelming, invisible pressure that violently pushed her back against her will.
A monstrous, cataclysmic shockwave suddenly surged in all directions, ripping the very air apart and flattening the surrounding atmosphere. Caught in the dead center of that explosive epicenter, the Sword Empress’s figure was blown backward with the unstoppable, devastating momentum of a fired cannonball.
KABOOM—!
Only then, lagging seconds behind the actual strike, did a deafening, thunderous roar finally sweep through the venue, threatening to rupture the eardrums of every spectator present. The grand stage instantly detonated from the residual force, sending massive, shattered fragments of stone and earth flying high into the air in a chaotic storm of debris. Amidst that blinding cloud of dust and pulverized rock, both the Sword Empress and Jeong Yeon-shin had completely vanished without a single trace, their movements now far too fast for the mortal eye to track.
It was a profound, ultimate technique, one that was being revealed to the martial world for the very first time in history.
Sky Torrent.
With only a single, heaven-defying thrust of the sword.
A violent, unstoppable rapid suddenly flowed across the canvas of the night sky, painting the heavens with a terrifying, sublime majesty that left all who witnessed it breathless.
“That is...!”
Up in the elevated spectator stands, the expressions of the Perfected Ancient Sword and the revered leaders of the Nine Sects underwent a drastic and immediate transformation. Their eyes widened in sheer disbelief and awe. The day, which had originally been calm and quiet, had suddenly, violently twisted into a raging torrent of overwhelming martial pressure and suffocating sword qi.
Yet, before these exalted masters could even fully process or marvel at the profound depths of Jeong Yeon-shin’s sword stance, a new, terrifying sensation washed over them. They suddenly sensed someone else’s presence—an entity so vast, ancient, and suffocating that it completely eclipsed the ongoing duel.
Pure survival instinct took over. The Shaolin Abbot, who was already floating backward in midair while maintaining a perfect lotus position, reacted instantly to the unseen threat. Alongside him, the Perfected Ancient Sword, Lady Yul-ha, Abbess Baekyak, and Perfected Clear Water each twisted their bodies in a desperate, split-second evasion, their highly honed reflexes screaming at them to move out of the way.
—What a pathetic farce.
The voice echoed from the very top of the platform, dripping with absolute disdain and an authority that commanded the heavens.
—You are stealing my grandson's time.
It was a direct sound transmission, yet it carried such immense, tyrannical power that it felt as if it would physically shatter their eardrums and crush their internal organs into paste. Immediately after those crushing words resonated through their minds, a heavy, deep pink shadow fell upon the shattered ground, descending upon the battlefield with the oppressive weight of a collapsing mountain.