Chapter 145: Provocation (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 145: Provocation (3)
“The night is growing late, and I’m getting bored. Lee Gon, if you aren’t going to finish this quickly, I’ll handle these two myself.”
Suddenly, the man in the black Taoist robe, who had been standing silently in the rear, stepped forward.
Lee Gon, who had been momentarily still, caught the man’s drift and asked, “Would you like to?”
“Yes. If that fellow shows up, you handle him. I’ll finish these two off once I’ve seen what they’re made of.”
Step.
As he took a single step forward, Yeon-hui and Seok Jin’s expressions stiffened.
Something felt wrong. He was openly talking about toying with them, yet instead of indignation, a subtle chill ran down their spines.
“Ah!”
Yeon-hui, who had been watching the man closely, let out a sharp gasp.
Until now, his back had been to the moon, making it impossible to see his face clearly. But now, by the light of the yellow candles flickering on the walls, she saw him for the first time.
His face was hideously disfigured.
Covered entirely in burn scars, it hardly looked human.
“Tsk, women are all the same,” the man in the black Taoist robe chuckled. “No need to be so shocked. These aren't wounds; my face became like this while I was tempering my martial arts.”
“…”
Yeon-hui wondered what kind of martial art could possibly do such a thing to someone’s face.
Click.
But she didn't have the luxury of idle thoughts. Sensing an inexplicable danger, she raised her sword and focused.
“Come at me together if you’re going to,” the man said, rolling up his black sleeves.
He wore the robes of a Taoist, but his tone was that of a common street thug.
“To be honest, I have no interest in fledglings like you. I hope you show me everything you’ve got. Otherwise, you might get seriously hurt.”
“…”
Yeon-hui’s temper flared again. Seok Jin felt the same.
The man was utterly arrogant. No martial artist could stomach being told so bluntly that they weren't even worth being considered an opponent.
“I’ll handle this, Seok Jin Sahyeong,” Yeon-hui said, stepping in front of him.
Though Seok Jin had made great strides recently, he still couldn't be compared to her. Yeon-hui had been a Qingcheng swordswoman for years and had far more experience in the Jianghu; she felt she was better equipped to handle this.
“So, the girl is stepping forward?”
“Hmph. I knew the Diancang Sect lacked manners, but I didn't realize you were slow-witted as well. After what happened recently, I thought you’d have learned what kind of place Qingcheng is.”
As Yeon-hui retorted boldly, the corners of the man’s mouth curled up.
“Careful, little girl. Keep flapping that mouth and you might just die.”
“Wh-What?”
Yeon-hui scowled and drew her sword.
A sharp shring echoed through the air.
Hummmmm—!
As she channeled her energy, a powerful force enveloped the blade, manifesting a two-foot-long Sword Aura.
Seeing this, Seok Jin’s expression brightened. His junior sister was skillfully wielding Sword Aura. Just looking at her gave him a sense of reassurance.
“Ho? Quite skilled for your age.”
The man in black looked at Yeon-hui with composure and beckoned with his finger.
“Come, you Qingcheng brat.”
“Hah!”
Yeon-hui let out a kiai and lunged.
At the tip of the sword in her hand, a vivid Sword Aura of over two feet shimmered.
*
“Ho! That girl is quite something.”
Gu Jong-myeong let out an exclamation of admiration as Yeon-hui manifested her Sword Aura.
Nok Gwi-bo of the Diancang Sect, standing behind him, added casually, “They call her one of the Seven Peaks of Martial Women.”
“Now that I think about it, Qingcheng has quite a few talents,” Gu Jong-myeong said, sounding amused.
Just then, Elder Pan Yu-seong of the Kunlun Sect turned toward Nok Gwi-bo and Gwi Cheon-neung with a worried look.
“But won't your side be pushed back if they fight like this?”
“Why do you think so?”
“Well, that boy standing further back seems quite skilled as well. If he joins forces with one of the Seven Peaks, your Diancang disciple might be overwhelmed.”
At those words, Go Ju-gang laughed.
“He is not a disciple.”
“Pardon?”
“Isn't that right, Elders of the Diancang Sect?”
At Go Ju-gang’s friendly prompt, Nok Gwi-bo and Gwi Cheon-neung chuckled.
Nok Gwi-bo looked around at everyone and asked, “Does anyone here know of the Light Splitting Divine Sword, Goma?”
Gu Jong-myeong nodded.
“Is there anyone in the Jianghu who doesn't? He is one of the Four Immortals of the Martial Forest, a master of the Fast Sword Style that the Diancang Sect is so proud of.”
The Four Immortals of the Martial Forest.
Their martial prowess was at least on par with the Hundred Great Masters. However, despite belonging to the Orthodox Faction, they were so eccentric and biased that people called them the Four Demons of the Martial World behind their backs.
One of them was Goma, the pride of Diancang. He was a master known for parrying opponents' blades with the rings on his fingers and overwhelming them with his blindingly fast swordplay.
“Why bring up the Four Demons… I mean, the Four Immortals all of a sudden?”
A few people looked confused.
“It is him,” Go Ju-gang smirked.
“What?”
“That man is him. One of the Four Immortals, the Great Monk Goma of the Diancang Sect.”
“…!”
Everyone’s eyes snapped toward Nok Gwi-bo. Then, they looked back at the man in black preparing to fight Yeon-hui.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“This is not what we agreed upon!”
Pan Yu-seong of Kunlun and Taoist Unyang of Wudang shouted at Go Ju-gang, the Leader of the Martial Alliance.
The Four Demons were recognized as being among the top hundred masters in the Jianghu. Using such a person for a test was like bringing a tiger to a rabbit fight.
“Well, this wasn't part of my plan,” Alliance Leader Go Ju-gang shrugged.
“Then who authorized this?”
“It seems my subordinate, Ji Jung, arranged it. You all know the history between Qingcheng and Diancang, don't you?”
Go Ju-gang pointed to the old man who had been traveling with him—Ji Jung of the Diancang Sect.
“Leader! You’re going to let this proceed knowing that? If even one person gets hurt, the Alliance’s authority will be tarnished! And Qingcheng won't just sit idly by!”
This time, Taoist Unyang protested vehemently. The purpose of this gathering was to verify if demonic arts had infiltrated Qingcheng, not to start a feud with them. He was worried about the unintended consequences, but he was even more concerned about someone getting hurt.
“Well, what’s the harm in a few scratches?”
“What?”
The one who answered amidst the confusion was Nok Gwi-bo.
“In the past, Qingcheng caused damage to our main sect and never even offered an apology. Even so, we forgave them.”
“Now see here, Seonsa Nok Gwi-bo…”
“A few minor injuries should be fine. Think about it. If an orthodox disciple has truly learned demonic arts, would they reveal it in a normal situation? Would they show their true power just to avoid a few flesh wounds?”
“…”
Everyone fell silent. No one could guarantee that wouldn't be the case.
“To make that Seok Myeong fellow show his true colors, we need to rattle his cage a bit. Diancang will take full responsibility. The rest of you can just sit back and watch the show.”
“Sigh…”
“Ahem…”
The elders remained quiet. They knew the situation wasn't right, but they also understood the gravity of the matter. And if Diancang was willing to take the blame, there was no need to be overly proactive in stopping them.
From a pragmatic standpoint, they could let things play out and then, if necessary, turn around and join in condemning Diancang later.
Tsk, tsk. Even within the same Orthodox Faction, everyone’s interests are so different.
Go Ju-gang smiled inwardly as he saw the once-furious Unyang grow quiet. No matter how much of a priest or monk one was, when it came to the relationship between sects and the Alliance, pragmatism always came first. Seeing the true face of the Orthodox Faction made him want to laugh.
They talk about how terrifying demonic qi is… but in the end, they’re all thinking the same thing.
A dangerous but alluring power. Any sect leader would covet it. Go Ju-gang, as the Alliance Leader, had become very accustomed to this way of thinking.
“Amitabha.”
Meanwhile, Abbot Hye Un, standing to the side, remained expressionless. He simply turned away and closed his eyes.
*
Clang! Clang!
Yeon-hui hadn't intended to go all out from the start. Although she had manifested her Sword Aura, it was meant as a threat; she intended to gauge her opponent’s level and respond accordingly.
Voom!
But that thought vanished instantly. The moment she closed the distance, a shockwave forced her to unleash her Sword Aura fully.
Boom!
The moment she stepped back from the massive blast, a palm strike was fired at her without giving her a moment to breathe. This time, it was accompanied by a powerful gust of wind.
“Ugh!”
Yeon-hui hurriedly corrected her crumbling stance and manifested her Sword Aura once more.
Because she had forced her internal energy up in rapid succession, she felt a surge of nausea as she unleashed the aura, but crushing the energy closing in on her was more urgent than worrying about internal injuries.
Boom!
Another explosion followed. The impact was so great that the ground was gouged out, and stone dust scattered into the air.
N-No way!
As she tried to steady herself, Yeon-hui couldn't believe her eyes.
Voom!
Yet another palm strike, laden with internal energy, came flying at her.
This is impossible!
Qi has a flow and a sense of continuity. After using the internal energy from the Dantian, one must circulate the energy within the body. Therefore, there is inevitably a gap between one discharge of energy and the next.
It varies depending on training, but for a typical martial artist, it takes about one full breath—or at best, half a breath or a quarter of a breath. Alternatively, one can bridge that gap by drawing up a large amount of energy at once and then distributing it.
However, she had never experienced anything like this—a barrage of attacks with absolutely no gaps.
This is the level of an Elder.
The thought flashed through her mind. If this was the result of him distributing his energy evenly, then the total amount of internal energy he possessed must be astronomical. He was someone who could never appear among the ranks of First Generation Disciples.
After just two consecutive attacks, Yeon-hui was already reeling.
“Ah!”
Just as she was trying to regain her senses—
Swish!
The man in the black robe—whose identity as a Diancang disciple was now highly doubtful—unleashed a third palm technique. The force of the strike took physical form, flying toward her like a gale that threatened to swallow her whole.
Yeon-hui’s vision clouded over.
Her internal energy was spent. In her unbalanced state, there was no way to defend against the incoming attack, even with her eyes wide open.
“Hah!”
At that moment, Seok Jin, who had been watching, stepped in. In an instant, he squeezed out every ounce of his energy and slashed at the force.
The Black Ink Energy generated from the tip of his sword flew out and tangled with the massive gale.
CRAAAACK!
A wind so powerful it was hard to keep one's eyes open erupted, and the world seemed to dim.
“Pant, pant… Damn… I couldn't even cancel it out?”
Seok Jin grumbled, sounding exasperated. When his strike collided with the black-clad master’s attack, the energies didn't annihilate each other; his strike had only managed to deflect the gale slightly.
This wasn't a clash between equals. He was feeling the weight of a staggering difference in power.
Whoooooosh—!
As the cloud of dust began to clear, the expression on the scarred man’s face had changed.
Even though he hadn't been hit, he was staring at Seok Jin with a look of intense gravity.
“That energy you just threw…”
“…”
“What the hell was that?”