Chapter 77: Heaven and Earth Sword, Sixth Initial Form (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 77: Heaven and Earth Sword, Sixth Initial Form (3)
Swish! Swish!
At Hong Geom-baek’s command, dozens of members from the Eyebrow Life Team surged forward to block the path.
Despite his earlier bluster, Hong Geom-baek was retreating, his face pale as if gripped by a primal terror.
Rustle.
Meanwhile, the members of the Soul Killing Team were tending to Dan Ri-geon, who had finally regained consciousness. Now that their leader was awake, they saw no reason to follow Hong Geom-baek’s frantic orders.
However, Dan Ri-geon shook his head and gestured toward Hong Geom-baek’s position.
He felt it too.
The true threat wasn't a third-rate sect like the Azure Lake Gate or some wandering Taoist from Qingcheng; it was that gaunt man who had Hong Geom-baek so terrified. He knew that if they could just take that man down, the situation would be resolved.
As over a hundred men moved simultaneously, Song Yeo-guk spoke to Seok Myeong.
“Did I not promise you a duel?”
“Yes.”
“But you know that duels within the sect are forbidden unless they are between master and disciple, correct?”
“That is correct.”
“Therefore, I shall show you a different kind of duel.”
He took a step forward, his gaze fixed on the approaching horde. “Stand behind me.”
“…!”
Meeting Song Yeo-guk’s eyes, Seok Myeong moved cautiously to take his position behind the elder.
Song Yeo-guk continued, “This will be your first and last experience of its kind. Follow me and watch. Observe which attacks I use to fell the enemy, the paths my sword takes, and how I balance my strength. Burn every single detail into your mind. Do you understand?”
At that moment, Seok Myeong’s eyes sparkled with intensity.
He had been granted the chance to witness the martial arts of Song Yeo-guk—the man once legendary as the Swordsman of Swift Wind—from the closest possible vantage point.
“I am ready to learn.”
Song Yeo-guk stood his ground with grim determination.
Though he had spoken confidently to Seok Myeong, his physical condition was dire. He couldn't exert even a fraction of the power he once possessed.
But he couldn't back down.
He had to end this with his own hands. He had to ensure these Unorthodox Faction bastards would never covet this place again—to make it so they could never sleep soundly again.
Meanwhile, Seok Myeong hesitated for a moment, glancing toward Hyeok-jin.
While Song Yeo-guk and the Azure Lake Gate pushed forward, Hyeok-jin would have to face the enemy alone. Given the sheer number of foes, holding them off would be an uphill battle.
“Stay alive. No matter what.”
“Of course.”
Hyeok-jin nodded nonchalantly, though his expression carried a sense of responsibility even heavier than usual.
Seok Myeong turned his gaze away. There was nothing left to say. The only thing that mattered now was cutting down as many enemies as possible to lighten Song Yeo-guk’s burden.
That was all.
*
Whish! Whish! Whish!
Following in Song Yeo-guk’s wake, Seok Myeong found the man's swordsmanship to be simpler than he had expected.
The movements—slashing left and thrusting right—were steady, without a hint of hesitation. In terms of forms, they were clearly nothing more than the Basic Sword Techniques of the Qingcheng Sect. If there was one thing that set them apart...
Whish!
It was the absolute clarity of the execution.
It felt as though the men in black were falling before that simple swordsmanship without being able to offer even a shred of resistance.
‘It’s the Heart Planted Sword.’
Seok Myeong realized that Song Yeo-guk’s sword had reached a realm he couldn't yet fathom.
A sword that becomes one with the mind. Not clinging to rigid forms, but simply following the stirrings of the heart.
Watching from behind, it didn't look like Song Yeo-guk’s sword was aiming for the opponents; rather, it looked as if the opponents were throwing themselves onto his blade of their own accord.
Sh-sh-sh-shhh!
‘Ah…!’
Even in the heat of battle, Seok Myeong found himself entranced by that dazzling martial prowess. He wondered if such concise and beautiful swordsmanship had always been embedded within the arts of Qingcheng.
Swordsmanship has a flow. Usually, when teaching a form, it refers to a sequence of movements—the alternating application and release of strength. Seok Myeong had been operating his sword according to that principle, and recently, he had been contemplating how to entrust his body to the flow of the technique itself.
However, Song Yeo-guk was utilizing a flow on an entirely different level.
He utilized not only his own forms but also the enemy’s energy, striking back by returning that very power against them. Thus, no matter how many men tried to swarm him, they were no match.
‘Haa… haa…’
However, such high-level techniques consumed a proportional amount of mental and physical energy.
Song Yeo-guk’s sword was growing heavy, and his concentration was beginning to slip. He was already gasping for breath. He had been drawing out his internal strength even at the risk of shattering his dantian, but he had reached his limit. His ragged breathing was proof that his internal reserves were depleted and his stamina was gone.
‘I should have cut back on the drinking and practiced more, even just a little…’
Regret washed over him too late, but he quickly cleared it from his mind. What was done was done; he had to focus on the present.
Swish-swish-swish!
Five men in black leaped toward Song Yeo-guk simultaneously. Whether they had planned it or not, they perfectly surrounded him from all sides.
“Get down! Sea Wind Cloud Mist!” Song Yeo-guk roared.
“Hup!”
Seok Myeong immediately pressed himself flat against the ground.
Sea Wind Cloud Mist was a technique from the Azure Cloud Red Mist Sword style that Seok Myeong had practiced during his secluded cultivation.
Slash-slash-slash!
Sure enough, blades swung indiscriminately, grazing just above his head. If not for Song Yeo-guk’s warning, Seok Myeong would have been caught in the crossfire.
‘So that’s how the flow should be connected!’
Lifting only his head, Seok Myeong watched Song Yeo-guk’s swordsmanship in awe.
While Seok Myeong simply moved quickly according to the flow, Song Yeo-guk began his forms with a subtle, thin redirection. Even while operating with such delicacy, if the opponent’s flow quickened, he quickened along with it. He altered his own breathing and flow to match the enemy’s attack perfectly.
Thud. Roll, roll.
Splat!
The effect of the form was astonishing. It wasn't particularly fast or powerful, yet the heads of the five men fell simultaneously. It was extreme naturalness—achieving the maximum effect with the minimum amount of force.
“Huff… huff… Now, stand in front of me.”
Seok Myeong moved according to his words.
“I will support you. Move!”
“Me, sir?”
“Yes. There is no time!”
As he spoke, sweat poured down Song Yeo-guk’s forehead like a waterfall.
Step.
As soon as Seok Myeong stood in front, the enemies came pouring in.
“Chah!”
Seok Myeong moved his sword with blinding speed.
First, he closed the distance to the man in front. He parried the swords flying in from all directions and immediately thrust his blade forward.
‘Hmm…!’
Song Yeo-guk let out a low groan of approval.
It was clean. With precise movements, Seok Myeong cut down the enemies without any wasted effort. Moreover, he used a form that targeted the lowest, weakest point according to the situation.
‘I can see why he understood the Vertical and Horizontal Cutting Sword.’
Song Yeo-guk could sense the level of Seok Myeong’s martial skill and his ability to interpret techniques. With this level of understanding, he wouldn't have relied solely on manuals. He would have been able to accurately understand the flow of qi, not just the flow within the dantian.
‘But he is still unrefined.’
A swordsmanship that renders the enemy’s strength into nothingness—it seemed he hadn't reached that level yet. If he could achieve that, he would have no rival among his peers.
However, Song Yeo-guk was so engrossed in Seok Myeong’s potential that he was overlooking one thing: he was currently expecting Seok Myeong to possess an enlightenment that reached the Absolute Realm.
*
Thud! Crack! Bam!
Meanwhile, the number of men in black swarming Hyeok-jin was no less than those facing Seok Myeong and Song Yeo-guk. About a dozen men surrounded him, targeting him relentlessly from every angle.
“Kuaaa!”
No matter how much Hyeok-jin’s skills had improved—even to the point of eliminating their action captain, Beoncheonjang—he still lacked experience fighting against large numbers. Under normal circumstances, he would have fallen already.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Fortunately, he had learned how to defend and attack using the Right Sword Left Saber style, and he was holding his own by dealing with the enemies appropriately. But even that was reaching its limit.
Swish!
“Kh!”
Dozens of light scratches had already appeared, and he had been stabbed by enemy blades several times. The most concerning injury was his left shoulder. Strength was gradually draining from his left arm, which held the saber. Had a tendon been severed? Blood also flowed from a gash on his head, blurring his vision.
“Die!”
In a pack, the beast that shows weakness becomes the prey. A man in black rushed toward the faltering Hyeok-jin.
“As if!”
But Hyeok-jin’s sword was faster.
Slash.
The man’s sword cut through empty air, while Hyeok-jin’s blade buried itself in the man's chest. Crimson blood ran down the blade, soaking Hyeok-jin’s palm.
“Who do you think you’re killing?!”
Though his vision was fading, Hyeok-jin shouted even louder. However, taking that as a signal, two more men rushed him. Hyeok-jin raised his saber toward the sky and thrust his sword straight forward.
Thwack! Bam!
It was half a success and half a failure.
“Agh!”
He managed to plunge his sword into the opponent rushing from the right, but in exchange, his own shoulder was pierced.
Swish! Thud!
However, Hyeok-jin endured the pain and brought down his raised saber, killing the man on his left.
“I will never fall to the likes of you!”
These were the men who had tormented him, swarming like moths to a flame. Even if it meant seeing his own blood, he would kill every last one of them.
Pui!
He spat out the salty blood that had entered his mouth. The gore that had splashed on his face earlier had gotten into his eyes, making his vision even more dizzying.
In the distance, he could see Song Yeo-guk and Seok Myeong fighting desperately. On the other side, he saw the group from the Azure Lake Gate who had rushed to join the fray.
“Dammit… I still have the strength to fight.”
Thud. Clatter.
The saber had already slipped from his grasp, rolling on the ground. His sword also hung limp, as if it had lost all its weight. Perhaps because he had lost too much blood, a wave of vertigo washed over him.
“The bastard is exhausted. Strike!”
Just as the remaining men in black were about to pounce—
Zip! Zip! Zip!
Sharp daggers were driven precisely into the foreheads of three men.
“You’ve become a pathetic sight. Want some help?”
“…!”
At that moment, Hyeok-jin’s eyes flew wide open. A very familiar voice drifted from behind his back.