Chapter 116: Crisis of the First Generation Disciples (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 116: Crisis of the First Generation Disciples (1)
Swish. Swish. Shhh.
Seok Myeong was once again lost in his sword training.
Only yesterday had he finally managed to bridge the gap in the third form that had been plaguing him. Lost in a trance, Seok Myeong worked on refining the twelve forms of the Qingcheng Sword Technique.
The essence of the third form lay in the parrying thrust.
But how should he parry, and how should he thrust? Should he meet the blade head-on to deflect it, or should he lead it away? When exactly was the right moment to execute the counter-thrust?
While the initial inspiration for the style had come in a flash, the specific forms required meticulous refinement.
To solve this, Seok Myeong recalled a movement he had learned from Hong Jun-gyeong of the Cutting Sword Gate before returning to the Qingcheng Sect. It was a technique that redirected an opponent’s momentum to deflect their blade before sliding up the length of the sword for a counter-thrust.
The Qingcheng Sword Technique also possessed forms that redirected an opponent’s power. However, those were deeply imbued with raw strength. In other words, they didn't just return the force; they poured their own power into the clash as well.
When Seok Myeong tried to execute it that way, he found that while the flow was continuous, there was a major flaw. It lacked harmony.
One must be soft when softness is required and strike hard when strength is needed. Only then does softness become strong, and strength become soft. Flow and harmony had to operate as one.
"Whew. Let’s stop here for today."
Practicing the movements until his muscles screamed, Seok Myeong eventually braced himself against the floor and slumped down. Through this grueling daily training, he had grown gaunt. Yet, the light of qi flowing through his eyes had become even clearer. He now looked so serene that he wouldn't seem out of place compared to a high monk who had cultivated for decades.
"Creating a sword technique is truly this difficult."
Seok Myeong felt grateful for the day he had gained the inspiration to form the basic framework, despite the hardships. Without that foundation, he wouldn't have even been able to imagine what kind of forms to use.
"I should sleep for a bit."
Peering through a fist-sized hole at the deep darkness outside, Seok Myeong lay down. Staring at a wall where water dripped steadily, he waited for sleep to take him, debating whether to wash first or just close his eyes.
Piiiiing—!
"Ah!"
It happened then.
A sudden, sharp whistle of air-piercing force struck Seok Myeong’s ears. Startled, he bolted upright and looked toward the source of the noise.
"This is...!"
The sound was incredibly intense.
"It’s not just simple sword qi," he muttered to himself.
For the vibrations to reach this high into the Heaven Pillar Prison, the technique had to be at least as powerful as a Sword Bullet. A sense of foreboding washed over Seok Myeong. He rushed to the wall near the entrance and shouted.
"Is anyone there!"
His voice echoed through the stone walls, but there was no answer.
"Is anyone there! Hey!"
Seok Myeong shouted again, louder this time. But despite his repeated calls, there was no reaction.
"What is going on?"
Whenever he had shouted before, a warrior from the Azure Sky Pavilion would approach and ask what was wrong. Since his guilt hadn't been finalized, they generally tried to listen to his requests. But this time, there was no response at all. Did that mean there was no one outside?
Seok Myeong paced restlessly, his anxiety growing.
"Something has happened. I’m sure of it."
That wasn't just any air-breaking sound. He was certain of it.
At that moment—
Piiiiiiing—!
An even greater vibration struck his ears, and Seok Myeong’s eyes widened. He ran back to the wall and screamed.
"Is anyone there! Someone, please say something!"
Again, silence. Seok Myeong’s frustration reached its peak.
"I don't have time to just sit here."
Seok Myeong picked up his sword and stared at the wall before him. Regardless of the punishment he might face later, he intended to break through the door and get out.
Wait. Can it even be broken?
The problem was the durability of the Heaven Pillar Prison. This was a dungeon that had once held the most vicious prisoners. Among them were monsters of the unorthodox path with high-level martial arts; as a prison designed for them, the door wouldn't break under ordinary force.
"I have no choice but to try."
Seok Myeong channeled the energy flowing through his body into his sword. The tip of the blade began to glow brilliantly, and soon, a dark shadow coalesced at the point.
Black Ink Energy.
It was larger than before. Where it had once been barely a foot long, it now surged to nearly three feet.
"Hah!"
Having made up his mind, Seok Myeong unleashed the Black Ink Energy toward the wall.
K-boom!
A massive explosion erupted. Dust billowed, and stone fragments scattered in every direction. The wall shook violently, accompanied by a tremor that felt as if the entire mountain were quaking. Seok Myeong tensed, worried the ceiling might cave in.
Wooooom—!
As the dust cleared, the situation was revealed. Piles of crumbled stone blocked his path, and the deeply gouged wall slowly came into view. Seok Myeong’s eyebrows twitched.
He had failed. Despite the impact that felt like it would bring the cave down, the stone wall remained intact, save for a few small cracks.
"If I try that again..."
Seok Myeong looked up at the ceiling. If he wasn't careful, the ceiling would collapse first. If he tried a few more times, he might break the stone wall, but the chances were high that the ceiling would bury him before that happened.
"This is the only way out..."
Seok Myeong’s heart began to race even faster. It was unbearable to be trapped here while knowing something was happening outside.
What if I concentrate the energy more and make it stronger? Like the Astral Energy I saw back then, condensing it...
Gathering power. Smaller and smaller. Condensing the force even further.
"I need Astral Energy... but that’s a power I can't use yet."
Seok Myeong could not manifest Astral Energy. He believed his enlightenment hadn't reached that level yet. Furthermore, the nature of his power was different. He was using Black Ink Energy, a force no one else had ever used.
"I can't condense it... but..."
Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind.
— The difference between a branch breaking and not breaking is simply a change in posture.
— You say it's just posture...?
— Indeed. It is merely posture, but it is not a light matter. If you thrust with your palm facing the ground, you only use the strength of your arm. But if you thrust with your palm facing the sky, you use the full strength of your body. The strength of the lower body circulates and unfolds through the wrist; this is Taiji. To use all of one's strength, and further, to use the opponent's strength against them—that is all Taiji.
"The Taiji Principle."
Seok Myeong muttered Hong Jun-gyeong’s teachings.
Taiji was a force that circulated endlessly. He imagined a spinning top that rotated and deflected even massive external forces. What if, instead of condensing the qi, he followed the Taiji Principle and made the energy smaller by making it rotate?
It’s possible.
The posture of flipping the palm—Hong Jun-gyeong had said that alone changed the transmission of force. Then, rotating the energy to make its mass smaller should also be possible.
"Hup!"
Seok Myeong poured his qi into the sword once more. As expected, a massive three-foot surge of Black Ink Energy rose from the tip of the blade.
Seok Myeong attempted to move the energy at the sword's tip. The energy responded to his will. It began to spin slowly, gradually growing smaller and smaller. From two feet to one foot, the circulating energy eventually shrank to the size of an eyeball.
"Hah!"
Seok Myeong unleashed that energy toward the wall.
Crack!
A sound like a snapping bone rang out. Then, silence filled the cave. Seok Myeong looked down at his sword. For a moment, he thought he had accidentally extinguished the energy.
But then—
Rumble!
A fist-sized crack appeared in the center of the stone wall and rapidly branched out in all directions. Suddenly, a massive vibration surged through the entire wall, and in an instant, the stone collapsed.
Boulders the size of a man's leg fell away. Behind the stone, a layer of Black Iron three feet thick was revealed.
*
Boom!
An impact so powerful it seemed the outer wall would burst apart erupted. The combatants stopped their fighting and turned their gaze toward the source.
"Krrraaaaagh!"
The blood-drenched monster rose once again. Watching this, Song Hak let out a boisterous, incredulous laugh.
"Good heavens. To think such a creature exists, and it's not even a jiangshi."
Song Hak remained focused even as he spoke. How startled had he been just moments ago when he saw the monster’s sudden speed? Its movements were as fast as its body was durable. He couldn't afford to lower his guard.
"Kaaaaah!"
As expected, the monster let out a screech and charged with incredible speed. It thrust its qi-infused claws toward Song Hak.
Swish.
The Song Hak the monster pierced turned out to be an afterimage. He had executed a footwork technique in that split second. After confusing the creature's eyes with the Illusory Lost Track Step, he reappeared above the monster’s head in the blink of an eye.
"This time will be different."
With a shout, Song Hak plunged his sword downward. His blade pierced the monster’s crown, and a terrifying amount of true qi exploded in a chain reaction from the tip.
Thump!
At that moment, the ground gave way and smoke billowed up. The monster, driven into the earth, stopped moving entirely. It was dead.
"Huff, huff."
Song Hak, having unleashed a massive amount of true qi in succession, glared around. He moved his body to find his next opponent.
"...!"
In that instant, sensing something strange, Song Hak looked down at his feet.
And then—
K-boom!
An explosion occurred, sounding like a Thunderbolt Bomb had gone off. Song Hak jumped instinctively, but the force of the blast sent him flying thirty feet into the air before he slammed into the ground.
"Cough... what on earth did they put inside this thing's body!"
Song Hak struggled to stand, staggered a few steps, and eventually slumped back to the ground. Before he knew it, he lost consciousness.
*
"Leave me be."
Seok Jun, who was being supported, shook off Yeon-hui’s hand after only a few steps.
"We have to go, quickly."
"I’m fine. More importantly, aren't our junior brothers fighting?"
In Seok Jun’s eyes, he could see about fifteen disciples charging at the monsters. They were all fighting for their lives.
"I understand how you feel, but in this state, you're no match for them."
"I can at least buy some time. My left hand is fine, so I can still swing a sword."
Seok Jun’s stubbornness was legendary. In terms of pride and self-esteem, he was second to none in the Qingcheng Sect. Even in this situation, he wasn't the type to back down just because his body was injured.
"If you're going to be like that, then let's fight together."
Yeon-hui bit her lip, having made up her mind. Seok Jun turned to her and said,
"You should escape as quickly as—"
"Why? I have my pride as well."
Yeon-hui said, drawing her sword. Seok Jun tried to stop her but gave up. He realized she was saying exactly what he had been thinking. Come to think of it, he wasn't the only stubborn one.
"Agh!"
Just as they made their resolve, a man fell from the air. It was a First Generation Disciple named Seok Gang. Yeon-hui, who was close to him because they were the same age, rushed over and caught him.
"Junior Brother Seok Gang!"
"Cough!"
His condition was horrific. One of his arms and legs had been severed, and the blood flowing from his chest was staining his clothes a deep crimson.
"You monster!"
Rage began to burn in Seok Jun’s eyes as he watched. Spotting the monster attacking the First Generation Disciples, he crossed his sword into his left hand and charged forward.