Chapter 63
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: The Top Sword is a Weakling (3)
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The original plan of the Mount Hua Sect had been to treat Moo-jin to a cup of tea, chat a bit, stroll through the sect's beautiful scenery together, and then spar in a good atmosphere.
Not to drag some kid from a local training hall into an immediate brawl. After all, the great Mount Hua Sect had standards and etiquette when it came to treating guests.
"All because of that fool Uncheon..."
"Don't worry about it. It's not the first time he's pulled something like this."
The elders heading to the training grounds let out heavy sighs.
"We're so sorry, Sect Leader. We never should have called Uncheon."
"It's fine. The guy probably just thought it was a spar, so it's understandable."
"Hoo. That rascal's been causing every kind of trouble since way back. How does he never fix that habit?"
The elders, grumbling about Uncheon behind his back, suddenly stopped in their tracks.
By the time they arrived at the training grounds, they could already see Kang Moo-jin and Uncheon warming up atop it.
"Uncheon will still win, right?"
"Of course. No matter how impressive Golden Ghost Indestructible is, he can't match Uncheon."
"He's up against Mount Hua's top swordsman, after all."
Separate from their complaints about Uncheon, the Mount Hua elders had absolute faith in his victory.
This was no ordinary man—he was the Sword Demon of Mount Hua.
The unrivaled top sword of Mount Hua, whose swordsmanship had reached an unattainable realm no one else in the sect could chase.
A genius hailed as such since childhood, who'd never lost a single sparring tournament, a transcendent master even among Peak Realm experts.
The monstrous talent everyone said would enter the Ten Martial Honored within five years.
"No way the Sword Demon of Mount Hua loses."
"That punk never loses. He could face one of the Ten Martial Honored right now and hold his own."
"Exactly. He's just too young to make the list yet, but his skills are the real deal."
The elders, for once praising Uncheon, turned their gazes toward Moo-jin.
Even facing off against a giant of the martial world like the Sword Demon of Mount Hua, Kang Moo-jin remained astonishingly calm.
As if he'd never felt tension in his life, he simply stood there casually rotating his wrists and ankles.
"Impressive composure."
"Looks the part too—great bones and frame."
"In a few decades, he'll be on Uncheon's level."
"Yeah. He's lacking now, but give him time."
The elders alternated glances between Moo-jin and Uncheon, who showed no tension whatsoever, chatting idly among themselves.
In their eyes, this spar's outcome was already a foregone conclusion—one side's victory was crystal clear.
"Make sure to serve him some fine tea so he doesn't get too down after losing."
"Don't worry. I've got thirty-year-old plum blossom tea ready."
"Heh heh. Been a while since we get to show off Mount Hua's martial arts beauties."
The Mount Hua elders grinned as if they were off on a flower-viewing excursion.
"Standing so stiff there, rookie. Already scared?"
The Sword Demon of Mount Hua, Uncheon, slung his loosely gripped sword over his shoulder with a sly smirk.
"Scared before the spar even starts? Looks like you're really afraid of your lies getting exposed."
"...?"
Kang Moo-jin just stood there, not even assuming a proper stance.
He didn't need one, but to the Sword Demon of Mount Hua, it looked like fear-frozen rigidity.
"Kekeke. That's why you shouldn't lie. Fake fame always crumbles eventually."
Shing—
The Sword Demon of Mount Hua raised the sword from his shoulder and pointed it at Moo-jin.
The gray-haired Daoist, pointing his blade with considerable flair, drew slight admiration from the Mount Hua elders. It was befitting of the sect's representative swordsman, and they were satisfied.
"Come on, big-mouth rookie. This senior will generously yield one move."
"Hmm. Senior, that's not quite right."
"What?"
"Yielding is what the superior does to the inferior."
Moo-jin smirked and crooked a finger at Uncheon.
"I'll yield the first move to you."
"...You bastard!"
"Oh, right—for the sake of respecting your elders, I should yield an extra one. This junior will spot you two moves. Come at me."
Crunch—
Uncheon ground his teeth and gripped his plum blossom sword tightly.
"...Fine. If you wanna die that bad, I'll end you today!"
Bloodshot eyes glaring, the Sword Demon of Mount Hua poured internal energy into his blade.
Woooong—!
A sharp sword aura manifested over his weathered plum blossom sword, swiftly evolving from mere threads into full-fledged sword gang.
"Ooh! Sword gang already!"
"To manifest sword gang that fast! His skills have advanced even further!"
Amid the Mount Hua elders' exclamations, Uncheon vibrated his sword tip, tracing a line through the air.
The quivering tip split into dozens of sword shadows in an instant, and from those dozens of tips bloomed hundreds of plum blossom petals.
Darker than ordinary plums—almost crimson—the Sword Demon of Mount Hua's petals filled the training grounds in a flash.
"Die buried in plum blossoms."
Uncheon swung his sword wide, eyes dripping with killing intent fixed on Moo-jin.
Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art. Plum Blossom Blood Rain.
Hundreds of blood-tinged plum petals shot toward Moo-jin.
Propelled like a storm at his back, each petal was a sword gang capable of slicing rocks and severing iron.
"...Brother!"
Yu-hwa's face went pale as she saw the fallen petals carve deep gouges into the training grounds.
Papapapabat—
Hundreds of petals stabbed into Moo-jin's body like daggers. The training grounds shattered in an instant, debris splintering as dust filled the air.
"Hah... Such a powerful technique right from the start."
"Tsk. Isn't Uncheon going overboard? A proper spar should exchange moves."
Plum Blossom Blood Rain was the Sword Demon of Mount Hua Uncheon's finest technique among the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art.
Practically his ultimate move—and he'd unleashed it first thing!
Thus, the Mount Hua elders were convinced the match was over in one strike.
However.
"Haaat!"
The Sword Demon of Mount Hua didn't stop. He poured even more energy into his blade, compressing the sword gang over and over.
Its pinkish hue, like plum blossoms, sharpened into blazing flames.
"Kahaha! Try taking the second move too!"
Uncheon swung his now twice-lengthened blade, unleashing a fiery crescent of gang energy.
"Th-that madman!"
"He's using Heaven-Severing Blazing Fire Sword here?!"
Heaven-Severing Blazing Fire Sword—literally "severing the heavens with scorching flames."
This sword art, exclusive to Mount Hua elders, was too murderous for orthodox martial arts—prohibited except against vile heretics.
And Uncheon had unleashed it full-force on his sparring opponent, Kang Moo-jin.
"N-no!"
"W-we have to block it...!"
As the elders stomped in panic, the Heaven-Severing Blazing Fire Sword's gang struck exactly where Moo-jin stood.
Kwaaaang—!
A massive blast rocked the grounds again, dust billowing thickly.
"A physician! Call a physician quick!"
"Too late. He's already dead!"
"No one survives a hit like that!"
The dust was too thick to see Moo-jin, but the elders were certain he'd perished.
Even the wielder, Sword Demon Uncheon, sheathed his sword.
"Uncheon! Have you lost your mind?! How dare you use a killing sword on a guest!"
Uncheon snorted at the furious elders.
"When blades clash, someone dies. Isn't that what a spar is—kill or be killed?"
"You mad bastard...!"
The elders were dumbfounded, while Uncheon haughtily raised his chin.
"Kahaha! This is the power of Mount Hua's top sword. Rookie!"
"Brother..."
Only Yu-hwa slumped to the ground in despair—right then.
"Hm?"
Uncheon felt an odd sensation and looked down.
Something ominous emanated from the empty training ground floor.
"An earthquake...?!"
Kwaduk—!
A hand burst from the ground, grabbing Uncheon's ankle.
"...!!"
Uncheon's eyes bulged in shock.
A hand suddenly erupting from the training grounds? Naturally alarming.
"Gotcha, you punk."
"Y-you bastard!?"
Kwaang—!
Moo-jin erupted from the ground, one hand clamped on Uncheon's ankle.
"Let go, you filth!"
Suspended in midair by Moo-jin, Uncheon swiftly swung his sword to sever the arm and escape.
However.
Kaang—!
"K-kaang?"
His blade didn't cut flesh—it chipped. His prized sword of fifty years dulled like a toothless crone in seconds.
"You punk. Daring to use killing intent in a spar?"
Moo-jin's face twisted demonically.
"You tore my clothes!"
Whoosh—!
Moo-jin hoisted Uncheon's body overhead and slammed him into the training grounds.
Kwaang—!
"Keurk..."
Uncheon's nose gushed twin streams of blood as his head-first impact pinned his ankle.
"Y-you bastard..."
"My outfit...!"
Moo-jin yanked Uncheon's ankle up again, then smashed him into the opposite side.
Kwaang—!
"Is ruined!"
Once on the left. Once on the right.
Kwang—! Kwang—! Kwang—! Kwang—!
Moo-jin mercilessly hurled Uncheon's body left and right, pulverizing the training grounds.
Uncheon struggled at first but couldn't withstand Moo-jin's monstrous grip.
"Keurk..."
After dozens of head-smashings, he fainted with a final death rattle.
"What? Mount Hua's top sword?"
Moo-jin scoffed, dropping the unconscious Uncheon's ankle with a tongue click.
"Some top sword. Total weakling."
"..."
"..."
The training grounds, filled moments ago with the elders' excited voices, fell deathly silent.
They gaped like they'd been silenced by a formation, mouths agape but voiceless.
"Wh-what in the world?!"
"...Impossible..."
Even seeing it with their own eyes, they couldn't believe the scene before them was real.
The Sword Demon of Mount Hua... defeated?
Mount Hua's top sword crumbling to an escort agency's mere guard?!
"How can it be... this overwhelming?!"
"Losing without even landing a hand? To that fool Uncheon?"
Even stretching their minds to accept the Sword Demon's defeat, this manner of loss was... unbelievable.
No—impossible to believe.
Who could've imagined Mount Hua's top sword getting his head repeatedly smashed into the ground, nosebleed pouring, until he passed out in ignominy?
No matter the imagination, picturing such a shocking defeat was beyond them.
No matter his rotten personality, Uncheon symbolized Mount Hua's sword—the pinnacle swordsman.
"Tsk tsk tsk. Incredible. Truly incredible."
As everyone reeled in stunned silence, Mount Hua's Sect Leader Ungeom the Immortal clapped and exclaimed in admiration.
"Those eighteen Shaolin baldies... no, the Arhats—bet he smashed them like that too. Feels damn good. Those monks must be humiliated."
"Sect Leader..."
The elders squeezed their eyes shut.
We're in the exact same boat right now...
"Heh heh. What's with the long faces?"
Ungeom the Immortal elbowed a nearby elder.
"Admit it—he had it coming."