Chapter 48: The Golden Martial Association's Stance (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 48: The Golden Martial Association's Stance (2)
‘Incredible! So this is a battle between true masters...’
Seok Myeong was profoundly shocked by the scene unfolding before his eyes. This was a fight on a completely different level compared to his own duel with Cheol Gun.
Song Hak’s martial arts, in particular, were breathtaking.
The Origin Wind Sky Sword he had unleashed was a technique from the 72 Wave Swords that momentarily surged one's inner qi before compressing it. Normally, the extent of its variation was merely generating sword wind around the blade. However, the technique Song Hak displayed created a literal wall of wind in all directions, centered on where he stood, rather than just around his sword.
This was a feat that could neither be attempted nor achieved without far surpassing the Peak Realm.
Papapapat!
While the onlookers marveled at Song Hak’s martial prowess, the ground was torn asunder in every direction. In that brief span of time, no fewer than thirty exchanges had occurred. Some attacks were invisible, while others flew from completely unpredictable angles. They were that fast, that lethal.
On the other side, Cheol Gun, who had barely regained consciousness, managed to force his eyes open. He was desperate, determined to engrave every single form before him into his mind.
Cr-crack!
As the two retreated for a moment, their internal power collided, causing small pebbles to swirl violently around them. It looked as if they were about to manifest their final ultimate techniques. Due to the battle between these Transcendental Peak masters, the martial arts training ground was cracked and parched like a rice paddy during a drought.
Yet, the expressions on Song Hak and Cheol Jung’s faces suggested they were only just beginning. They glared at each other, their features contorted with murderous intensity.
“You bastard!”
“You Unorthodox scum!”
Cheol Jung lunged first. Song Hak charged toward him a heartbeat later.
And at that very moment—
A dazzling halo of light descended from the sky, slamming down between them.
Kwaaaaang!
Stone fragments flew in all directions as the earth itself heaved. The internal power was so intense that the center of the training ground split wide open, and the resulting shockwave caused the surrounding stone steps to sink. The roof erected to block the sunlight had already collapsed into ruins.
“A-Astral Energy...?”
“Ah...!”
The Silent Taoist, who had been watching in silence, cried out. The other elders groaned in awe.
The training ground was split exactly in half. And there, hovering in the air above the rift, was an old man.
“That is enough.”
His tone was low, his voice heavy with authority.
It was Cheol Mu-jin. He had intervened, unable to let the situation escalate any further.
Step.
The moment Song Hak tried to take a step forward, ignoring the warning, Cheol Mu-jin’s gaze shifted toward him. Their eyes met.
“...!”
In that instant, Song Hak felt it—a massive pressure that felt like it would stop his heart. He felt as though his body would be crushed the moment he took another step.
‘What incredible pressure. It’s not inferior even when compared to the Sect Leader.’
Astral Energy, which only Absolute Masters could wield, and a murderous intent so potent it even silenced the raging Cheol Jung. Song Hak felt himself instinctively shrinking back.
“How is his condition?” Cheol Mu-jin asked the Masked Person who had appeared at his side.
Having leaped into the training ground at some unknown point, the Masked Person checked Cheol Gun’s pulse and nodded. “His internal injuries are deep, but his life is not in danger.”
“That is a relief.”
Cheol Mu-jin turned his gaze toward Seok Myeong. The Qingcheng Taoist was standing on the verge of collapse, leaning on his sword just to stay upright.
“Your wounds look severe. Stop pushing yourself and sit down. I will have you treated, so do not worry about what comes next.”
“Ugh...”
Perhaps it was because of those grave yet gentle words. The moment Cheol Mu-jin finished speaking, the focus in Seok Myeong’s eyes began to fade. He slumped down, eventually lying flat on the ground. Just as the elder had said, Seok Myeong had been holding on through sheer willpower alone.
“Eldest Disciple!”
Yeon-hui, who was nearby, rushed to Seok Myeong’s side and helped him lie down properly.
“Let us move elsewhere, Qingcheng Taoist,” Cheol Mu-jin spoke to Song Hak and then turned around. He walked over to Cheol Jung, whose anger had yet to subside, and patted him on the shoulder. “Do not overthink it.”
“...!”
“In times like these, one must keep things simple.”
With those words, Cheol Mu-jin left the area. Left behind, Song Hak and Cheol Jung glared at each other for a final moment before withdrawing their hostility and following after him.
*
Trickle, trickle.
A stream of water poured from an exquisitely carved dragon sculpture. The water flowing from its mouth fell into the center of a stone basin that stood waist-high. Somewhere out of sight, a waterwheel kept the flow constant.
The room was luxurious, designed as if a scenic mountain landscape had been brought indoors. Inside, several elders sat in meditation on the floor. Song Hak sat on the far right, opposite Cheol Jung. In the center, Cheol Mu-jin sat on a cushion. It was a traditional seating arrangement rarely seen in the Jianghu.
“Please, have some. It is Dragon Well Tea.”
Cheol Mu-jin offered a teacup with a pleasant smile. It wasn't a warm tea, but a refreshing, chilled brew. Perhaps because of the summer heat, he had prepared a cold steep instead.
“You likely haven't heard the name; it isn't a famous tea. A friend of mine lives in Hangzhou, and he says the water was drawn from a spring called Dragon Well. He said the taste was exquisite, perhaps due to the towering ancient trees and the serene, hidden scenery.”
Cheol Mu-jin explained the tea’s origin to break the stiff atmosphere. But despite his efforts, Song Hak remained rigid and silent. Cheol Jung was the same, remaining cautious because of the recent clash and the threat the Qingcheng Sect had posed to Cheol Gun.
“Thank you.”
Finding the continued silence burdensome, Song Hak eventually accepted the gesture and brought the cup to his lips. He judged it foolish to continue souring the atmosphere in enemy territory, even if they were from the Demonic Path. Moreover, Cheol Mu-jin was his senior in terms of martial generation.
As he drank the tea, Cheol Mu-jin continued. “Do not misunderstand. This matter arose purely from my own personal affairs.”
Cheol Mu-jin felt the need to clarify. Because of the name 'Golden Martial Association,' there was a high possibility that the other side would involve the entire Qingcheng Sect. If that happened, the conflict could escalate unintentionally—something neither he nor the Golden Martial Association desired.
As expected, Song Hak seemed to have considered this as well, as he took Cheol Mu-jin’s words seriously. “I also do not believe you are a man who acts lightly.”
The moment he finished speaking, Cheol Jung’s eyes turned sharp. He sensed an unspoken blade hidden within those words. Noticing Cheol Jung’s gaze, Song Hak looked back at him. The two exchanged looks so sharp it wouldn't have been strange if they drew their swords right then and there.
“Ahem!”
“...”
“...”
When Cheol Mu-jin cleared his throat, Song Hak looked down at the floor, and Cheol Jung turned his gaze to the ceiling.
“By the way, I had no idea Qingcheng had such an interesting disciple. I do not usually pay much heed to rumors in the Jianghu, but I thought I knew the prominent Rising Stars of Qingcheng. I heard of a boy who is one of the Seven Well Heroes. Was his name Seok Min... or Seok Hu...?”
The Seven Well Heroes referred to the seven Rising Stars representing Sichuan. They were famous enough to be known throughout the Central Plains.
As soon as he finished, Song Hak’s gaze snapped back to Cheol Mu-jin. “It is Seok Jun.”
“Ah, right. Seok Jun.” Cheol Mu-jin tapped his head as if he had just remembered. At the same time, he stole a glance at Song Hak. For some reason, Song Hak seemed to react sensitively to the mention of that disciple’s name.
“Yes, there is such a boy. But this boy, Seok Myeong, was quite special. His words, his actions, and even the audacity he showed in defying me—I could see the grit of Qingcheng in him. So, out of curiosity, I pitted him against Cheol Gun. As expected, today’s duel was quite remarkable.”
“He is still young. Both in character and skill. That final attack only managed to slip through Cheol Gun’s Sword Bullets by chance; it was not a proper breakthrough.”
“Oh?” Cheol Mu-jin glanced at Song Hak again. Then, he looked at his own son, Cheol Jung. “Did you see it that way as well?”
“Yes,” Cheol Jung answered as if it were obvious.
“Hmm.”
Cheol Mu-jin said no more. He had wondered, but it seemed no one else knew. That unidentified energy the boy had released at the end—it hadn't slipped through the gaps between the Sword Bullets; it had shattered the energy before penetrating. It wasn't the three-colored energy, but it was a pity he couldn't see it clearly as it overlapped with the Sword Bullets.
“How is Young Master Cheol Gun’s condition?” Song Hak asked. He seemed genuinely curious about that part.
Cheol Mu-jin answered kindly. “Well, it is not bad. More importantly, how is Seok Myeong?”
“His wounds appeared quite severe. He will likely need to convalesce for at least half a year.”
“Half a year? Just how bad is it?”
“His qi has stagnated.”
Cheol Mu-jin’s eyebrows twitched. Concern clouded his eyes. “If his qi has stagnated... does that mean the energy will not move to his Dantian?”
“That is correct.”
“Haha. Dear me, that is a serious problem.”
If the qi could not move, it meant the walls protecting the Dantian had crumbled, signifying a massive internal injury. It wasn't just a matter of resting for half a year; even simple movement could be difficult. Yet, as he watched Song Hak speak so calmly, Cheol Mu-jin wore a strange smile.
‘I think I understand the situation now.’
To his eyes, Song Hak didn't seem particularly angry. This was despite a member of the Qingcheng Sect suffering an internal injury that could potentially end his career. Of course, since they were in enemy territory and Cheol Gun was also injured, he might speak that way, but it didn't feel like that. He didn't seem to be suppressing his anger; he truly seemed indifferent.
“Then, I shall take my disciple and depart.”
At Song Hak’s sudden declaration, Cheol Mu-jin shook his head. “Leave him here.”
“What do you mean by that? Seok Myeong is a disciple of Qingcheng.”
Song Hak was desperate. He wanted to take Seok Myeong right now and interrogate him about everything. He wanted to know where that ferocity—releasing three different energies at once—had come from. Was it a secret transmission from the Azure Cloud Taoist, or a new attempt by Seok Myeong himself?
Furthermore, he had to hold him accountable. He had to punish him for letting rumors spread that he lost to Cheol Gun of the Golden Martial Association, and for deserting the sect after claiming he would become a Qingcheng swordsman. With this, he could expel this eyesore from Qingcheng without any opposition.
However...
“Leave him here.”
He had run into an unexpected wall. And a massive one at that: Cheol Mu-jin.