Chapter 167: Verification (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 167: Verification (1)
“The light is red.”
“What’s going on?”
The first-generation disciples whispered among themselves as they watched the crimson glow radiating from the Green Jade Buddha Staff.
Fortunately, it hadn't turned black. However, it wasn't the color they had expected either.
The mysterious red light left everyone tilting their heads in confusion. They couldn't bring themselves to rejoice, as the uncertainty was unsettling.
The elders of Qingcheng, who had been holding their breath in suspense, felt a wave of relief followed by a sudden jolt of anxiety. Even Sect Leader Song Jeong’s face betrayed a hint of bewilderment.
“What is the meaning of this?” Ji Jung asked Abbot Hye Seon urgently.
He was secretly hoping this was a sign of a demonic art.
“Amitabha…”
Abbot Hye Seon chanted a prayer, falling into deep thought before finally speaking.
“The mere fact that a bright light is visible at all is proof of pure, untainted energy. Benefactor Seok Myeong’s energy is undoubtedly that of the orthodox martial arts.”
“What do you mean? How can a red light be considered pure?”
“It is because the energy Benefactor Seok Myeong possesses is not yet perfectly refined.”
“If it isn't perfectly refined, then you cannot call it pure! Doesn't this mean it could still be a demonic art?”
When Nok Gwi-bo of the Diancang Sect stepped forward impatiently, Abbot Hye Seon’s brow furrowed as he shot back.
“How could this be a demonic art? I invite everyone gathered here to take hold of the Green Jade Buddha Staff and channel your own energy into it!”
He turned to the crowd and delivered a sharp rebuke.
“Forgive my bluntness, but I doubt anyone here could produce a perfectly white light. If you do not believe me, perhaps Benefactor Nok Gwi-bo would like to try?”
“……Hmph.”
Nok Gwi-bo could not hide his displeasure.
Part of him wanted to step forward and grab the staff just as Hye Seon suggested. But what if his own inner qi produced a color murkier than that red light? Not only would it be difficult to continue questioning the origins of Seok Myeong’s internal energy, but word would spread across the world that the Diancang Sect’s internal energy was less pure than that of the Qingcheng Sect. That would be a humiliating blow.
“Amitabha…”
Once the surroundings grew quiet, Abbot Hye Seon pressed his palms together and continued.
“I declare this on behalf of Shaolin. Benefactor Seok Myeong’s energy is clearly that of the orthodox path. Though it is not yet perfect, it is absolutely not of the heretical path or a demonic art.”
Hye Seon’s voice rang clearly in everyone’s ears.
Now, the verification of Seok Myeong’s internal energy was a closed case that no one could dispute. It was a declaration from Shaolin, the pinnacle of the martial world and the masters of the Demon-Subduing Evil-Destroying Divine Arts.
“Grrr…”
Step.
Just as Nok Gwi-bo, unable to contain his rage, was about to step forward again—
“So, what the Great Monk is saying is that while it is pure, it is not perfect, correct?”
Gwi Cheon-neung stepped forward, placing a hand on Nok Gwi-bo’s shoulder.
“That is correct,” Abbot Hye Seon replied with a polite gesture.
“Then can you tell us what kind of influence caused the light to turn red?”
Since the question was posed respectfully, Abbot Hye Seon’s response was slightly softer than before.
“This monk cannot define it precisely. Inner qi differs slightly for everyone depending on their temperament, their form of cultivation, and the martial arts they pursue. Forgive me, but even if one practices the orthodox arts of Wudang or Shaolin, if their technique is steeped in killing intent… the light may appear black despite its brilliance.”
“Hoh.”
“Furthermore, countless martial arts exist in the Jianghu, and while each seeks perfection, as long as we are human, a certain amount of turbid energy is bound to mix in. From the start, no human can perfectly absorb the energy of nature into their internal energy without any alteration.”
“I see. Then let me ask something else. When channeled into the Green Jade Buddha Staff, does the form of qi in the dantian always result in a single outcome? To put it simply, can the color change depending on the method of channeling or the heart method one has learned?”
“Generally, it remains the same, but it can manifest differently depending on the specific martial art practiced.”
“Then I find myself with a doubt.”
Gwi Cheon-neung bowed politely toward Abbot Hye Seon and continued.
“This elder has heard that Taoist Seok Myeong of Qingcheng usually keeps his energy well-restrained, but when his junior disciples were injured, he suddenly displayed a bizarre energy suspected to be of the heretical path. If, as the Great Monk said, the practitioner’s character and killing intent are all reflected in the inner qi, then wouldn't this test be insufficient to prove everything? Taoist Seok Myeong might have a boiling, wicked art inside him, but he could be desperately maintaining his composure right now just to escape this crisis.”
“That is…”
Abbot Hye Seon groaned slightly at Gwi Cheon-neung’s words.
He certainly hadn't meant it that way, but since the other party was determined to find fault, it was difficult to cut him off. Above all, it was frustrating because the man was using Hye Seon’s own words as the basis for his argument.
“So, what is it that the elders of the Diancang Sect want to say?”
When Sect Leader Song Jeong asked with an exasperated expression, Gwi Cheon-neung raised his voice as if he had been waiting for this moment.
“Forgive me, Sect Leader of Qingcheng. Your sect’s first-generation disciple, Taoist Seok Myeong, is renowned for his swordsmanship. Therefore, wouldn't it be best for everyone to clearly verify here and now whether he is hiding any sinister martial arts?”
“Verify, you say.”
Tap. Tap.
Song Jeong stood quietly by his chair, tapping the armrest before letting out a long sigh.
“Fine. If you find it so hard to believe, let us do this. You elders of the Diancang Sect may personally exchange blows with the Master of Azure Cloud Pavilion.”
“We are relieved that the Sect Leader has made such a bold decision.”
Smirk.
Gwi Cheon-neung smiled and clasped his hands in a polite gesture.
Behind him, Nok Gwi-bo and Ji Jung also felt the corners of their mouths twitch upward as they looked at Gwi Cheon-neung.
‘So this was the plan.’
Their minds were in sync. The Diancang elders immediately understood what Gwi Cheon-neung was thinking.
As things stood, their ambitiously launched plan would crumble, and they would have to return to the Martial Alliance empty-handed. Thus, he intended to provoke the opponent into a dangerous gamble.
‘I’ll take this chance to crush that brat’s potential.’
Ji Jung nodded at the murderous glint in Nok Gwi-bo’s eyes.
They would strike his neck during the heated duel, feigning an accident. Though they might lose their moral high ground, it was the only strategy that would allow them to avenge Goma right now rather than letting that loathsome Qingcheng brat go free.
“However, blades have no eyes, so I hope there will be no resentment even if the result is a bit different from what was expected.”
The moment Gwi Cheon-neung smoothly took a step forward, throwing out a cautionary remark to cover his tracks—
“Indeed. Blades have no eyes. So you all had better be careful. Seok Myeong lacks experience in the Jianghu, so he is still quite deficient in showing mercy to his opponents.”
Crunch.
In an instant, Gwi Cheon-neung’s expression stiffened.
It was unexpected. He thought the Sect Leader was granting permission out of a frustrated, cornered heart, but instead, the man was coming back even stronger.
‘Look at this guy.’
“……I will keep that in mind.”
He felt a fire rising within him, but he suppressed it. He would see if that leisure remained on the Sect Leader's face the moment that novice Seok Myeong’s head went flying.
‘Let’s kill him.’
‘Understood.’
Gwi Cheon-neung signaled with his eyes, and Nok Gwi-bo nodded. They had intended to kill him anyway, but this sealed the boy’s fate.
“Master of Azure Cloud Pavilion. Come here.”
Meanwhile, Song Jeong beckoned to Seok Myeong. Seok Myeong, who had been letting out a sigh of relief while holding the Green Jade Buddha Staff, hurried over.
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“You may kill them.”
Song Jeong’s cold words pierced through the air in a low whisper. Startled, Seok Myeong asked back.
“……Sect Leader?”
“The likes of Diancang dare to climb Mount Qingcheng and put on airs just because they have the Martial Alliance at their backs. They tried to kill us, and they came here with the intent to kill. Do not let this end half-heartedly.”
“…….”
“Cut them down mercilessly with the sword of Qingcheng. I will handle the aftermath.”
Pat. Pat.
Song Jeong tapped Seok Myeong on the shoulder.
And in that moment.
“First-generation disciple Seok Myeong accepts the Sect Leader’s command.”
A thick killing intent swirled in Seok Myeong’s eyes, almost as if they were catching fire.
*
Meanwhile, as the martial artists and elders cleared a wide circle, Taoist Unyang of the Wudang Sect lamented.
‘Sigh. Just what kind of confidence is this?’
He had wondered what Qingcheng was relying on to act so boldly, and then the Green Jade Buddha Staff of Shaolin appeared. If that had been planned in advance, then the Sect Leader of Qingcheng was certainly not a man to be trifled with.
However, the actions following that were hard to understand.
‘This is excessive arrogance.’
No matter how much Seok Myeong’s reputation had soared recently, he was strictly a first-generation disciple. Whether it was internal energy or sword technique, a duel against an elder of the Diancang Sect was unheard of.
No, this wasn't just a duel. It was practically a fight to the death that would only end when one side fell.
‘It’s going to be a life-and-death struggle.’
Gu Jong-myeong of the Mount Hua Sect also clicked his tongue.
Although Diancang’s name carried slightly less weight than Mount Hua or Wudang, the skill of their elders was not significantly different from those of other sects. In particular, Nok Gwi-bo and Gwi Cheon-neung, who had mastered the Light Splitting Twenty-Eight Swords to the limit, were not opponents a first-generation disciple could handle.
No matter how highly Seok Myeong was evaluated as one of the Six Dragons, this was like a teenage boy entering a life-and-death battle with a thirty-year-old veteran.
‘But…’
Gu Jong-myeong frowned as he looked back at the Qingcheng Sect.
No one stepped forward to stop it. Far from being worried, they seemed to be secretly anticipating it. This was even truer for the elders than the first-generation disciples.
‘Huh?’
Above all, Gu Jong-myeong was greatly shocked by the coldness in Sect Leader Song Jeong’s eyes.
Shiver!
Was this what it felt like the moment a tiger, having silently hidden its presence, bared its fangs? The goosebumps erupting on his arms were the same sensation he had felt when struggling against life-and-death enemies during his travels in the Jianghu.
And that feeling intensified when he saw the eyes of Seok Myeong, who had just returned from hearing a few words from Song Jeong.
“Haaa……”
Step. Step.
Emotionless eyes. An extreme coldness that didn't even harbor malice. This was not the Seok Myeong he had seen from a distance at the Martial Alliance.
Clang.
The moment Seok Myeong drew his sword, the chill intensified once more.
The silver tassels and the blade’s surface shimmering in the sunlight—at a glance, it was clearly a famous blade, perhaps even a divine weapon. He was sure the boy had been carrying a worn, old sword last time…
“The… Dragon Spear Spirit Sword?”
“Do you know it?” Gu Jong-myeong asked Yu Yeok-gil, who was groaning beside him.
“I believe it is a family treasure of the Cheon family. It isn't among the four greatest swords under heaven, but it is said to be among the top ten… But how did it end up with the Young Hero…”
Yu Yeok-gil’s voice trailed off, looking half-dazed.
At the same time, Seok Myeong took his starting stance.
It was a movement so smooth and natural that one could hardly perceive when the sword had been drawn.
Zing!
‘There is something I don’t know.’
Feeling a chill run down his spine, Gu Jong-myeong instinctively looked toward Jin-cheon and Unyang of Wudang.
The momentum contained in that starting stance was clearly that of the Taiji Wisdom Sword.
“Hoh…”
“My goodness.”
As expected, the shock was evident on their faces as well. It was clearly a sword style steeped in the secret techniques or insights of the Wudang Sect. One would not be a man of Wudang if they failed to recognize a branch of their own sect’s arts.
‘This is no ordinary matter.’
Only then did Gu Jong-myeong realize where this chill was coming from.
The genius of the Qingcheng Sect. Even so, the confidence he displayed against an elder of another sect was staggering. This was something that could not be understood with conventional common sense.
‘That first-generation disciple… is incredibly strong.’
At least one thing was certain. A great storm was about to sweep through the Jianghu today.