Chapter 169: Verification (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 169: Verification (3)
"The Nine Currents Sword?"
The elders, recognizing Seok Myeong’s martial art, each chimed in with astonishment.
"Isn't that the technique of Taoist Song Gang, the Master of the Martial Study Hall?"
"How can the Master of the Azure Cloud Pavilion know that art...?"
The Nine Currents Sword. More accurately, its formal name was the Nine Star Flow Sword Art.
Five years ago, after returning from his travels through the Jianghu, Taoist Song Gang had first demonstrated this martial art at the training grounds of the Azure Martial Hall.
"Taoist Song Gang?"
Song Gil, the Second Elder, paused. He noticed Song Gang standing beside him, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Song Gil placed a steadying hand on Song Gang’s shoulder and spoke softly.
"Did I not tell you repeatedly? There is no such thing as a useless martial art in this world."
"Yes..."
Song Gang, the Master of the Martial Study Hall, was overcome with emotion—and not simply because Seok Myeong was performing his technique.
Back then, the Nine Currents Sword he had demonstrated at the Azure Martial Hall hadn't received much attention. On the contrary, several elders had disparaged it, claiming the art he created was far too aggressive and dismissing it as a mere heterodox sword style.
— I feel as though I have labored in vain.
— No, that is not true. There is no such thing as a useless martial art in this world.
Song Gil knew exactly how much that rejection had pained Song Gang. To a martial artist, having the technique they poured their entire life into go unrecognized was like an artist or a musician having their very existence denied.
Perhaps that was why Song Gang, despite being the Master of the Martial Study Hall with the authority to register Qingcheng’s martial arts, had never officially submitted it. He had only ever shared a few verses of the manual with his closest disciples.
'And yet, he is performing that very art...'
The Master of the Azure Cloud Pavilion was showcasing it here and now. A man already recognized as the most brilliant mind in interpreting the martial arts of both Qingcheng and other sects.
"I am truly... ashamed. All this time, I thought the Master of the Azure Cloud Pavilion was walking a path separate from the rest of Qingcheng."
Song Gang composed himself and spoke to Song Gil. He thought he had calmed his heart, but his eyes were still brimming with tears.
"Yet, he did not overlook even the humble martial arts of a single elder. To think I said those things without knowing... I am beyond sorry for my past behavior."
"That’s just the kind of fellow he is. The Master of the Azure Cloud Pavilion, I mean."
As Song Gil and Song Gang spoke, Song Hak suddenly interjected.
"He is a truly absurd disciple. After the last emergency meeting, I decided to observe him with my own eyes. I had a general idea, but seeing him in person was quite a spectacle."
"How so...?"
"He wakes up at the Hour of the Dragon and gets held up teaching the young novice disciples of the True Martial Hall. After that, he spends his time listening to the grievances and worries of all the first-generation disciples. Once the day is done, he spends several hours deep into the night restoring the books in the Azure Moon Storehouse."
"..."
"A martial artist never has enough time for their own cultivation, yet he wastes his time so ignorantly. I couldn't believe it even as I watched—I wondered when he actually found the time to train his own martial arts. And yet, he has lived his entire life that way."
"Hah... that is remarkable."
These were the words of Song Hak—a stiff, stubborn elder who had never once offered Seok Myeong a compliment in his life.
Because of who said it, the words carried even more weight. Every member of the Song generation present knew just how much Song Hak disliked Seok Myeong—or more accurately, the lineage of the Azure Cloud Pavilion.
Many of Song Hak's own martial uncles had staked their lives on the restoration of the Azure Cloud Pavilion, only to meet their ends. It was only natural that Song Hak viewed the Azure Cloud lineage with a cold eye.
"If it were me, I could never live so foolishly."
"..."
Everyone nodded at Song Hak’s words. Seok Myeong’s actions went beyond mere loyalty or diligence; they felt almost foolish.
Time and resources were scarce, and there was so much to do. Yet, he never uttered a single complaint. While one might think of him as a good disciple, being too much of a pushover could be a problem in its own right. Against an openly hostile elder like Song Hak, such a personality usually gained nothing.
But it was because of that very nature.
"He is hopelessly dull and absurdly diligent. But that same fellow... the moment I insulted his master, his eyes flipped."
"Ho."
"So, what else could I do? He’s a fool who knows nothing but Qingcheng, so I had no choice but to take him in. A master’s role isn't just to teach a disciple martial arts. One must care for their character and take responsibility for their actions."
And so, in the end...
That profoundly "foolish" sincerity had managed to seep into Song Hak’s heart, which had once been as impenetrable as an iron wall.
As the other elders' gazes turned peculiar, Song Hak suddenly flushed. He felt as though he were making excuses.
"Hmph!" Song Hak snorted and turned his head away. "Of course, I still dislike that brat Seok Myeong."
"Hehe."
"Haha."
The elders chuckled and shook their heads. Song Hak’s words said one thing, but they all knew his heart. It brought a strange sense of warmth to the atmosphere.
Swish! Clang! Clang! Kacha!
In the center of the grounds, Seok Myeong continued to display overwhelming martial prowess. Each move he made was a technique belonging to one of the elders, imbued with the spirit of Qingcheng.
'You’ve grown well. Truly.'
They felt proud of Seok Myeong, and deeply grateful.
*
"Hahaha."
Sshhh.
Nok Gwi-bo briefly retracted the energy gathered in his sword. He was flabbergasted. His opponent wasn't treating him as an equal, but as an inferior.
'He faced me using martial arts he hasn't even properly mastered?'
The boy’s words weren't a provocation or a taunt. He was being sincere. That only made the humiliation sting more.
'I must admit it. This boy is not some mere first-generation disciple.'
Nok Gwi-bo suppressed his rage and began to analyze the situation coldly. Seok Myeong had parried his sword aura by striking it with his own. That wasn't a fluke or a coincidence.
He had to acknowledge his opponent's strength. Goma’s death... had been a result of a genuine gap in skill.
Screeeech.
As Nok Gwi-bo took a breath and widened his stance, Seok Myeong’s eyes narrowed.
Grind!
An unpleasant sound of crushing gravel echoed from the blue stones beneath Nok Gwi-bo’s feet. Along with it, a shimmering heat began to rise.
Seok Myeong spoke the name of the martial art he had only ever seen in books.
"The Heavenly Dragon Boundless Divine Art?"
"Hmm."
Sect Leader Song Jeong’s eyes sharpened as he saw the heat radiating from Nok Gwi-bo.
The Heavenly Dragon Boundless Divine Art. It was the representative high-level martial art of the Diancang Sect. This internal method, which bore an incredibly arrogant name, was a unique Diancang technique that distributed all of the practitioner's internal energy evenly throughout the body to draw out their latent potential.
His goal was likely to further enhance the power of the Light Splitting Twenty-Eight Swords.
'He’s truly going all out. However...'
Song Jeong tilted his head in confusion.
Rumble.
The wind picked up, and dust swirled from the ground. It was a formidable and impressive display of power. Yet, as Song Jeong watched the duel, he felt strangely at ease. Even though his opponent possessed power that surpassed the Absolute Realm.
'Is it his momentum? No, is it his presence?'
Song Jeong turned his gaze toward Seok Myeong and nodded unconsciously.
Ssssh.
Just looking at him brought a sense of peace. To be precise, he had an intuition that no amount of killing intent or overwhelming pressure could dare to breach Seok Myeong’s current state.
Zzzzzzt—!
Nok Gwi-bo, having squeezed out every drop of his inner qi, raised his sword. A faint glow appeared in his eyes, and a searing heat began to gather at the tip of his blade.
The Sword Extreme Bullet.
It was the same pinnacle of sword aura that Seok Jun had briefly shown, but this was at a far higher level of mastery. Regardless of his character, he was indeed an elder of a great sect.
"First-generation disciples, move further back!"
Anticipating the aftershocks of the energy, Song Jeong calmly warned the disciples.
"Fall back! Everyone!"
Thud, thud, thud.
Seok Jun gestured for them to move, and the lower-ranking disciples retreated until they were practically pressed against the outer walls of the courtyard.
"Mmm."
"Hmph."
Even the elders of Qingcheng stepped back a few paces from their original positions. A sword has no eyes. The power of the sword aura Nok Gwi-bo was emitting was enough to critically injure someone just from the shockwaves.
"So that is Diancang’s secret art... the Heavenly Dragon Boundless Divine Art."
Seok Myeong remarked, noting the air currents that resembled a flame art. When Nok Gwi-bo stared at him without answering, Seok Myeong held his sword at a diagonal angle.
"It seems you’ve finally decided to give it your all."
Hummmm—!
As if waiting for that moment, a deep, ink-black energy began to flow from the tip of his sword. Then, without a word from either side...
Flash!
Almost simultaneously, they lunged toward each other.
Crunch! Thud! Thud!
Nok Gwi-bo’s charge carried far more weight. Each step pounded the earth like a celestial hammer, and the rising heat from the trembling ground wrapped around his body.
"...!"
Seok Myeong, who had been charging in a straight line, suddenly abandoned the head-on collision and activated the Illusory Lost Track Step.
Swish, swish, swish.
Nok Gwi-bo pursued Seok Myeong with a similar movement.
"Secret Cloud Shadow Chasing!"
The Sect Leaders recognized Nok Gwi-bo’s movement technique instantly. If Qingcheng had the Illusory Lost Track Step, Diancang had the Secret Cloud Shadow Chasing. While the former created illusions through constant high speed, the latter created afterimages by fluctuating between slow and fast speeds.
Clang! Clang! Swish! Swish!
The exchange of forms began. Most of the first-generation disciples couldn't even follow the movements with their eyes. It wasn't just the speed; a haze had begun to rise from the violent clash between the two. While a master had the vision to pierce through it, it was still too much for the disciples.
Clang! Clang! Kakakang!
When the battle reached a stalemate on the ground, the two took to the air to continue their exchange.
"A-Amazing."
"Incredible!"
Though they couldn't see clearly, it was obvious the battle was fierce. Nok Gwi-bo certainly lived up to his title as a sect elder. The terrifyingly fast strikes of the Light Splitting Twenty-Eight Swords were lethal, and each missed strike tore deep gashes into the ground.
Sizzle.
Internal energy so thick it seemed to scorch the very air was hounding Seok Myeong.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"Is... is the Eldest Disciple being pushed back?"
One of the first-generation disciples, barely managing to track their movements, raised his voice. Seok Myeong, using the Illusory Lost Track Step, was gradually being forced backward. The direction in which his afterimages were flickering was clearly toward the rear.
"Ah!"
However, the moment the retreating Seok Myeong swung his sword, the situation reversed instantly.
Whirrrr!
Seok Myeong’s black ink energy coiled around his opponent’s sword aura. In that instant, everyone gasped in shock.
BOOM—!
For a split second, the two energies annihilated each other, sending a powerful shockwave in all directions.
But then.
"Gah!"
In that briefest of moments—the tiny fraction of a second after the heated sword aura and the black ink energy had canceled each other out—a new energy flickered back to life.
A faint energy regained its strength and shot toward Nok Gwi-bo.
It wasn't the black ink energy from before.
It was a brilliant, translucent Azure Wind Sword Aura.