Chapter 147: Seok Myeong's Wrath (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 147: Seok Myeong's Wrath (2)
As Seok Myeong pressed the pressure point on the back of his neck, Seok Jin lost consciousness, his upper body slumping forward. Seok Myeong caught him and gently laid him on the ground.
Then, he slowly stood up. He took one more look at his fallen junior disciples.
“Yeah, I’ve been in a foul mood ever since I stepped foot in here.”
Two men were watching him. Under their heavy gaze, Seok Myeong continued speaking, his voice low and steady.
“I had a premonition that something was going to happen. A truly disgusting sensation.”
Feeling an inexplicable prick of guilt, Lee Gon subtly averted his eyes.
Goma, seemingly bored of waiting, let out a sharp snort. “Hmph. How strange. My mood has only been improving since I arrived.”
“You’re in a good mood?”
“Indeed.”
“……”
Seok Myeong stared at him silently, his expression devoid of emotion. Meeting that icy gaze, Goma asked, “I take it you’re Seok Myeong.”
“Where are you from?”
“The Diancang Sect.”
“I thought I smelled something foul. So you’re the dogs of Diancang.”
“……”
Goma’s face contorted. He was another 'sword' of Diancang—a member of the Ghost Gate, a group that secretly handled the dirty work the orthodox sect couldn't be seen doing.
“Hah. Well, now.”
Because he had spent his life dealing with the world's ugliness, his speech and behavior were far from those of a refined Taoist. Still, hearing himself called a ‘dog of Diancang’ by a green youth—and a First Generation Disciple of the rival Qingcheng Sect at that—was utterly absurd.
“Can I ask you one thing?” Seok Myeong said.
“Go ahead.”
“Why would someone of an Elder’s rank hide his identity just to pick a fight?”
“……”
“There’s no use trying to deceive me. Seok Jin, Yeon-hui, and Seok Jun aren't the type to lose easily to any of the Rising Stars. The fact that my junior sister and brothers were defeated so helplessly is proof enough that you’re an Elder, isn't it?”
Goma let out a bitter chuckle. He neither confirmed nor denied it. Seeing this, the corners of Seok Myeong’s mouth curled upward into a cold smirk.
“Let me give you a hypothetical.”
“……”
“If a First Generation Disciple of Qingcheng fights an Elder of the Diancang Sect, who do you think would win?”
“The Elder, obviously.”
“Right?” Seok Myeong nodded and continued. “Then let me ask again. If a First Generation Disciple of Qingcheng attacks with the intent to kill a Diancang Elder, will the Elder win or lose?”
“The Diancang Elder wins.”
“Right. That would be common sense, wouldn't it?”
Seok Myeong’s expression turned ice-cold, as if he had been waiting for that exact answer.
“Then it won't matter if you die.”
“…?”
“Am I wrong? Think about it logically—that’s an impossible outcome, after all.”
*
Pshhh—!
The moment Seok Myeong finished speaking, Goma moved.
It was a surprise attack. Closing the distance in an instant with his movement technique, he thrust his fist forward. He fully expected to blow the boy away in a single strike.
Whish!
“…?”
But his hand passed through nothing but an afterimage. Seok Myeong’s figure had glided backward at a similar speed, slipping away effortlessly.
“Hmph!”
Goma sneered inwardly, finding it amusing, and increased his speed further. It was a rapid sequence of footwork, flowing like a wave from the Phantom Separation Step into the Flowing Cloud Body Lightness Law. There was no direction the boy could move that would escape his reach.
As expected, he closed the gap with Seok Myeong once more in a single breath and reached out to seize his collar. Close-quarters combat was another of his specialties.
Flutter—!
‘What?’
But the second attempt failed just as surely as the first. He had approached even faster this time, yet Seok Myeong had slipped away as smoothly as flowing water veering around a rock.
What was even more shocking was the movement that followed. Seok Myeong’s figure, having slipped away, reappeared directly behind his back.
“A mere Qingcheng brat!”
Grit!
Goma’s face twisted. Unlike before, his feet began to move with frantic speed.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Yet, strangely, the opponent he thought he was distancing himself from remained right at his heels. It was unbelievable. For a man who lived with the conviction that he would never lose in terms of movement techniques, this situation was hard to swallow.
Swish! Zip!
The two figures flickered like ghosts. As Goma created illusions with the Phantom Separation Step and drifted like a cloud with the Flowing Cloud technique, Seok Myeong countered with the Flying Stream Step and the Illusory Lost Track Step.
The Flying Stream Step, which allowed for a fluid approach, combined with the Illusory Lost Track Step, which shortened space, was the perfect answer.
‘This little brat!’
As the chase continued, beads of sweat formed on Goma’s forehead. The tension rose from the tips of his toes because of Seok Myeong’s internal method, which prevented Goma from locating him even as he kept appearing behind his back.
“Gah!”
It happened in the brief moment Goma twisted his body. Before he could even regain his stance, Seok Myeong appeared and threw a punch.
Boom! Thwack! Rumble.
The strike was packed with immense internal energy; Goma was sent skidding backward, smashing through a tree before tumbling across the ground. He scrambled back to his feet, but Seok Myeong didn't charge. He just stood there, watching him intently.
“Diancang Elder. Don’t be so nervous.”
“……”
“I haven't even started yet.”
“You little bastard…!”
Shring.
Watching him charge in a fit of rage, Seok Myeong drew his sword. It wasn't the Dragon Spear Spirit Sword, but the Azure Clarity Sword his master used to carry.
Flash.
As the distance closed to a hair’s breadth, Seok Myeong twisted his body. And as they drew near again, he swung his sword immediately.
Slash!
In the space where Seok Myeong and Goma were about to cross paths, Seok Myeong’s blade forced its way in first. The sword sliced clean through the fingers of Goma, who hadn't even managed to set his stance properly.
“Aaaargh!”
Goma’s scream erupted, but Seok Myeong didn't stop. He closed in again and plunged the blade into Goma’s shoulder.
Thuck!
It was a display of dazzling speed and precision. By moving one step faster and striking one breath sooner at the moment of impact, he achieved this result.
“Th-This is impossible!”
Watching from above, Nok Gwi-bo of the Diancang Sect gasped in horror. Gwi Cheon-neung’s jaw also dropped in disbelief.
Seok Myeong was a member of the younger generation, barely over thirty. Though he was famous enough to be called one of the Six Dragons, rivaling the Five Dragons, that fame was strictly limited to the Rising Stars. He was by no means a proven master among the Hundred Great Masters of the Jianghu.
And yet, he was overwhelming one of the Four Demons of the Martial World. He was handling Goma—one of the top experts of the Diancang Sect—as if he were a mere child. Furthermore, he was doing it with simple swordsmanship and footwork, not some special ultimate technique or divine art.
“Agh! Dammit!”
With his fingers severed and his shoulder pierced, Goma’s rage reached its peak.
“Youuuuuu!”
With a monstrous roar, he clenched both fists. Even though one hand was missing fingers, he moved it without the slightest regard for the pain. A massive wind began to gather in his hands, infused with powerful qi.
Clang—!
Dust, dust.
Unlike the furious demon before him, Seok Myeong sheathed his sword. He brushed off his clothes. He looked at Goma as if he were a man out for a casual stroll and spoke.
“All noise and no substance. Some Diancang Elder you are.”
“Grrr….”
Goma’s face turned beet red at Seok Myeong’s sarcasm. His rage boiled over so intensely that the veins on his forehead bulged, and his eyes turned so bloodshot the whites were no longer visible.
“You brat!”
Goma curled his fists and poured all his cultivation into them.
Rumble—!
A black cloud rising fifty feet high began to rotate and surge toward Seok Myeong. And inside that cloud was another whirlwind. The inner cyclone was rotating in the opposite direction of the black cloud spinning to the right.
A double-rotating whirlwind that transcended mere fist energy. Like a Sword Bullet that surpassed Sword Aura, something exceeding ordinary fist qi soared into the sky.
And just as it was about to crash down upon Seok Myeong—
Seok Myeong drew his sword and gave it a light upward flick.
Shuaaaa—!
There was nothing in that single strike. No Sword Force, not even the common Sword Aura. And yet, the massive fist energy that looked ready to swallow Seok Myeong and the surrounding space whole was annihilated without a hint of resistance.
“W-What did you…?”
Goma’s eyes widened in shock. In that moment, Seok Myeong burst through the thick cloud of dust and swung his sword.
Swish! Thud.
Goma, dazed by the shock, watched as his right arm fell to the ground.
“Aaaaaargh!”
He screamed, but Seok Myeong’s voice remained cold.
“Look, I’m not supposed to be able to kill you.”
“Ugh… Argh….”
“That’s the common sense we all know, right?”
“Ptui!”
Without even a moment to staunch the bleeding of his arm, Goma lunged. Whether from shame or fury, his eyes were bulging so wide they looked ready to pop out.
Flash.
Seok Myeong easily evaded his attack. No matter the assault, Goma was no match for him. Seok Myeong had already reached a realm several stages higher than him, not just in martial arts level but in internal energy as well.
“Heh. Even if it’s not me, you’re dead! You’ll never get out of here alive!”
Realizing that none of his attacks would work, Goma’s expression turned cold again. He had returned to a state of grim determination, like a man standing at the edge of a cliff.
“Don’t make that face.”
In contrast, Seok Myeong’s expression hadn't changed once.
Click.
He sheathed his sword again.
“I can feel the glares of the spectators well enough.”
“…!”
Goma’s eyes went wide. Could it be that in the midst of this fierce battle, he had realized the Elders were watching?
“The rumors were actually understated.”
Goma gritted his teeth. His eyes, fixed on Seok Myeong, were now filled with a resolute will.
“You will surely die in this place.”
For some reason, Goma picked up his severed arm from the ground. He closed his eyes and began to mutter as if reciting an incantation.
A moment later, heat began to radiate from his body. The heat grew stronger and stronger, expanding outward.
“Hah!”
When a significant amount of energy had gathered, he let out a shout and lunged toward Seok Myeong like a projectile. A dark light, different from pure white radiance, was erupting from his hands.
‘Now.’
Seok Myeong’s hands, which had been feigning carelessness, moved rapidly.
Tap, tap, tap.
There was busy movement coming from behind. Likely the audience who had created this mess. However, Seok Myeong had no intention of letting this disguised Diancang Elder leave in one piece. He intended to eliminate the man who had done this to his junior disciples right here and now.
Chring.
This time, what Seok Myeong gripped was not his master Song Hye’s sword. It was the Dragon Spear Spirit Sword—the blade capable of fully containing his Black Ink Energy.