Chapter 59: Heavenly Strength Big Dipper Formation (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 59: Heavenly Strength Big Dipper Formation (1)
“Pfft!”
“Haha!”
Hyeok-jin and Cheol So-yeon burst into laughter simultaneously. It wasn't the kind of laughter born from genuine amusement; it was pure, unadulterated mockery.
Grit.
For the first time, Cheon Wi-seol’s expression contorted. Though the lapse in his composure lasted only a fleeting second, Seok Myeong did not miss it. Behind him, the swordsmen of the Iryong Squad looked even more grim, their faces darkening with suppressed rage.
Seok Myeong was just about to return to his original seat when Cheon Wi-seol spoke again. For the Elder, this was not a slight that could be easily overlooked.
“Did you just say it was ‘pretty to look at’?”
Seok Myeong kept his gaze fixed forward as he replied coolly, “I did.”
“Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“Heh... Hahaha!”
Cheon Wi-seol let out a hollow laugh, as if he had just heard the most absurd thing in the world. He had gone out of his way to show a mere glimpse of the formation's power, yet he was incensed that someone would judge the entirety of his family’s heritage based on that alone.
The Heavenly Strength Big Dipper Formation.
It was a top-tier sword formation whose power was recognized even by the Martial Alliance. It was the absolute foundation upon which the Cheon family had built its current status. And yet, that very formation had just been insulted.
Even if he was a disciple of Qingcheng, was it acceptable to look down on others like this? Was this the arrogance the Qingcheng Sect showed to other martial families?
“You brat! How dare you humiliate our family! Father, there is nothing more to see. We must immediately take him—”
“Silence!”
The fury laced in the shout was palpable. At the sound of his father’s roar, Cheon Wi-jin instinctively recoiled.
Cheon Wi-seol turned his gaze back to Seok Myeong. His expression was now colder and more serious than it had been at any point during their meeting.
“Will you tell me why?”
“...”
“There must be a reason you think so. A disciple of a prestigious sect would not throw out such reckless words without cause. However,” Cheon Wi-seol’s voice dropped to a low, threatening rumble, “if there is even a single lie in your explanation... you will have to take responsibility for it.”
Seok Myeong remained unfazed by the warning. It was a blatant threat, but he understood the man's anger. Without letting emotion cloud his tone, Seok Myeong spoke calmly.
“Elder, do you know the meaning of the word ‘Multiplication’?”
“Multiplication? Do you mean ‘Rising’?”
“I do not mean the character for ‘Up,’ but the one for ‘Mutual.’ And the second character is not ‘Rise,’ but ‘Multiply.’ It is a term used in the Four Calculations.”
“And?”
Cheon Wi-seol was growing increasingly displeased by what felt like a lecture, but Seok Myeong’s inquisitive nature had already flared up.
“Originally, the weaker a sword formation is, the more it focuses on achieving a ‘Sum’ of each person’s position. A strong sword formation does not stop at a sum; it seeks the effect of ‘Multiplication.’ However, in the case of the warriors I just saw, they only achieved a sum.”
“Why do you think that?”
“The formation I saw was a Living Sword Formation. A Living Sword Formation is not meant to threaten the enemy; it focuses on immobilizing or defending against an opponent. And yet?”
“And yet?”
“They were different. Even though I had no intention of attacking, they pressured me. Because they operated it for a purpose different from its original utility, they failed to exert its full potential. That is why I said it was a formation that was merely pretty to look at.”
It was a cold evaluation of their application of force. Behind his calm tone was a sharp reprimand regarding how they handled the sword formation.
“Who do you think you are to evaluate our formation?!” Cheon Wi-jin’s emotions boiled over. He glared at Seok Myeong, his face flushing a bruised shade of red and blue. He had found the man disagreeable from the moment they met, and this was the final straw.
However, there was one person watching Seok Myeong with a particularly stiff expression: Cheon Wi-hyeon, who stood beside Wi-jin. From the moment Seok Myeong had entered, he had not taken his eyes off him.
“Then shall we see if it is a ‘pretty formation’ this time as well?”
Cheon Wi-seol broke the brief silence. He had acknowledged Seok Myeong’s words, but he had not withdrawn his hostility. First, the Martial Challenge Letter. Then the woman beside him. And now, this boy was pointing fingers at his sect’s traditions. No man in his position would find this pleasant.
“If you are going to show me a pretty formation, I would be glad to see it,” Seok Myeong replied.
“Heh, hahaha!”
At the Qingcheng Taoist’s behavior—agreeing without even looking back—Cheon Wi-seol let out another dry laugh. Any lingering hope that he might have misjudged the boy vanished. The words Seok Myeong spoke weren't a compliment; they were a provocation designed to make himself stand out.
“You’d better be prepared this time.”
He issued a warning laden with hidden thorns and then shouted toward the sparring grounds.
“All those at the rank of Captain or higher in the Iryong Squad, gather and prepare the formation!”
As soon as the command fell, several men leaped forward like pouncing tigers.
*
“Seok Myeong-hyeong, your complexion doesn't look good. Perhaps it would be better to stop here?” Hyeok-jin spoke with genuine concern. He had already noticed that Seok Myeong was not his usual self. It wasn't just his gait or his color; his overall physical condition seemed precarious.
“What? Has he not recovered yet?” Cheol So-yeon asked, puzzled. Given the martial prowess of the Seok Myeong she knew, he shouldn't have been affected at all by the earlier formation. Seeing his complexion pale meant he must have been severely impacted.
Hyeok-jin looked back and forth between her and Seok Myeong, surprised that she was aware of his state. Seok Myeong, however, gave no answer.
“Did they put something in that medicine? Is there someone suspicious among our people? Huh? Well?!”
Seok Myeong started to say something to Cheol So-yeon but stopped. She looked ready to thrash her own allies if they displeased her. What could he possibly discuss with such a volatile young lady?
“But what are you planning to do?” Cheol So-yeon asked, changing the subject. “Just looking at you, it seems you can barely stand. What will you do if they come at you for real?”
“I have a plan.”
“What plan? When your body is in this state?”
“He’s right, Brother. Your condition looks truly terrible,” Hyeok-jin chimed in.
Seok Myeong looked at Hyeok-jin and spoke softly. “It is a bit bad, but I must overcome it.”
At those words, Cheol So-yeon’s eyes widened as she snapped, “Stop here! You’re going to get seriously hurt!”
“I appreciate the concern, Young Lady, but that is my responsibility.”
“Wh-who’s worried about you?! I don’t care if someone like you gets hurt! It’s just... because things will get troublesome for us later!” Cheol So-yeon, her face suddenly flushing, stood up and stomped away to the back of the hall.
Seok Myeong watched her go with a faint smile.
“Still, Seok Myeong-hyeong...” Hyeok-jin’s worry didn't fade. “I’ve heard of it too. Their Heavenly Strength Big Dipper Formation is said to be incredibly strong. Because of the misunderstanding, they’re taking your words as a direct insult. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but in this condition...”
“Hyeok-jin.”
“Yes.”
“That is exactly why the advantage is mine. Can the sword of an agitated man truly be sharp?”
“Ah.”
Hyeok-jin’s eyes widened. He hadn't realized Seok Myeong had intentionally provoked them to cloud their judgment. He had thought things were simply spiraling out of control.
Seok Myeong patted Hyeok-jin on the shoulder and stepped forward toward Cheon Wi-seol.
“Are you ready?”
“We are.”
“Then proceed.”
Seok Myeong moved slowly, entering the center of the sparring grounds. The eyes of the masters forming the formation were fierce. It was only natural; the man who had mocked them and their subordinates now stood within their reach.
“Begin.”
At Cheon Wi-seol’s command, the attention of everyone present focused on Seok Myeong and the seven captains.
*
Can I withstand their energy with only External Styles?
The reason Seok Myeong had provoked them again, despite the pressure making it difficult for him to even stand, was to test himself. He wanted to see if he could withstand their collective energy using purely physical strength, and if so, to what extent.
The protective Astral Energy of Internal Arts creates a temporary wall by circulating internal energy. But was such a feat impossible for External Styles?
No.
External Styles possessed the power of raw muscular strength, fundamental agility, and hardy durability. If he could endure the pressure of the Heavenly Strength Big Dipper Formation with this, it would become a vital key for his future Martial Journey.
Let’s try it.
Seok Myeong bit his lip hard and stood his ground. He took the same posture as before and steadied his mind.
“Prepare the One Point Movement!”
At the command of a seven-foot giant with protruding teeth, the men moved in perfect unison. Their disciplined movements and sharp gazes were on an entirely different level than the swordsmen from before.
Whirrrr—!
As one man stepped forward and leveled his sword at Seok Myeong, the rotation within the formation began to concentrate its weight on him. The True Qi expanded, and the force pressing down on Seok Myeong became several times heavier.
Stagger.
Seok Myeong’s frame wavered. At first, he seemed to withstand the power they emitted, but it was only temporary; his lack of a solid foundation was immediately exposed.
It certainly isn't easy.
External power was a force that was difficult to grasp. Unlike before, when he had focused on a single point to crumble a stone pillar, he now felt pain from even the slightest shift in their power. It was a natural result; the sensation wasn't as distinct as internal energy, and the strength wasn't continuous.
It would have been different if he had trained in External Qigong from the beginning—if he had mastered basic arts like the Golden Bell Shield or the Iron Shirt step-by-step. Trial and error were inevitable when using External Styles, which he had only acquired as a byproduct of his Internal Arts.
“Ugh!”
As he pushed his strength to its limit for the hundredth time against the crushing weight of the Heavenly Strength Big Dipper Formation, Seok Myeong staggered back once more.
A moment later, blood began to flow from his mouth and nose.