Chapter 25
Chapter 25
************************-
Translator: uly
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Polishing the Soul-Pulling Thrust Variations
************************-
I'd returned with the North Sea Ice Lord's martial arts, but there wasn't really anywhere to use them.
Martial arts I couldn't learn. Spirit elixirs I couldn't consume.
Did that mean I could wield the sword she'd left behind?
The moment I drew the blade, a vicious chill spread through the surroundings. Some of my flesh froze solid, forcing me to give up in the end.
It was self-destructive. Without this special scabbard, I couldn't even carry it around.
For now, I'd set it aside. Since I couldn't use it, I focused on my original strength.
That was the limit of what I could manage, I figured.
The first variation of Soul-Pulling Thrust-Pae-myo-had reached proficiency. It had been tough practicing alone, but now I had one person willing to serve as my sparring partner.
"You still haven't fully mastered Soul-Pulling Thrust? I've already learned up to Gu-ak."
"I'm a bit slow on the uptake."
"Your cultivation is higher than mine, isn't it? Peak realm after breaking the wall, right?"
Number 20 couldn't wrap her head around it, but she still humored my practice. After our swords clashed a few times, her face grew stiff.
"...It's that thing, you know... kind of sneaky."
She, who usually blurted out rude remarks without hesitation, was glancing at my expression.
"I get what you mean by slow learner now."
"Feel free to say it straight."
"Learning new stuff must be painfully slow, huh?"
"......"
"But your foundational swordwork is ridiculously refined... Like a blade forged through relentless effort despite the slow progress..."
Number 20 nodded, having instantly seen through my condition.
"Weird breed."
"Isn't that rude?"
"Just facts."
She truly commanded peak first-rate skill. Despite being far younger than me, her accomplishments were impressively advanced.
"You know Soul-Pulling Thrust is the basic form of Nine Heavens Blood Demon Sword, right?"
"I do."
"You know what the four variations of Soul-Pulling Thrust represent?"
"I read about them in books."
"Hmm... Let's hit the essentials first."
My cultivation level was higher, yet she taught me.
She didn't seem to mind our reversed roles one bit.
"This settles the debt. Got it?"
"If that's what you want."
She took her stance.
"Soul-Pulling Thrust looks like a plain sword swing. On the surface, anyway. Tyrannically overbearing swordsmanship. No feints or illusory blades mixed in. But it's heavy and fast. Specialized in clean cuts and severing. That simplicity makes the trajectory predictable, though-easy for masters to block."
Number 20 brought her sword down.
A crisp Soul-Pulling Thrust.
"If the incoming sword flies straight, it's easy to counter, right? Doesn't matter how powerful-if it misses, it's pointless. That's why the creator devised four variations. Like the first form of Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art, Ghost Hand One Demon. Stand in front of me."
"This distance okay?"
"Yeah, perfect."
Number 20 aimed her sheathed sword at me on a slant.
"We'll nail the first form of Soul-Pulling Thrust, Pae-myo, before moving on. Gotta get that solid. Watch. What is Pae-myo? A countering blade. You read the opponent's attack, then strike back. See how far apart we are?"
"Two steps would close it."
"Pae-myo's an extreme counter technique. Predict the sword's path and riposte to match. Dodge and assault in one motion. The more precarious the distance, the higher the hit chance."
"...Not usable in every situation, then."
"Gotta read your opponent's martial flow first. Success means a lethal wound. Fail, and your head rolls."
She flicked her sword. Come at me, the gesture said. I launched my sheathed blade at her in turn.
Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art's second form: Soul-Pulling Thrust.
But the instant it extended, she ducked beneath the tip. Barely evading the arc, she smacked my waist.
No time to dodge-a fluid chain of motion.
My waist smarted.
"...Kuh!"
"I know the Soul-Pulling Thrust forms, so it was easy to dismantle. Point is... how well you read the foe-that's the key to this variation."
I crossed blades with her. A few more exchanges, and I started getting the feel. After that, I could mimic her moves, albeit with difficulty.
A partner made all the difference. I could test every sword form at my disposal.
Number 20's complexion, receptive at first, paled with each passing day. She finally snapped at me.
"Hey, you practice lunatic! Cut it out already?!"
"Only six hours since we started."
"Six hours my ass! My stamina's shot!"
When she refused to spar, I reviewed my lessons. A month later, the sword started feeling natural in my hands.
I clashed swords with Number 20. A spar with reined-in internal energy.
My flying sheathed blade hammered hers. Number 20 teetered, body tilting back.
"You... all damn brute force...!"
Crack!
The scabbard shuddered. Her stance crumbled.
A gap yawned in her form toward me. Number 20 thrust.
Soul-Pulling Thrust. The base form.
I read the interval first. Righted my toppling body.
Power to the core. Toes traced a circle. I moved just like that first day she'd taught me Pae-myo.
Reading the gap to my foe.
Feeling the form's power.
Evasion at the precise moment.
All three aligned perfectly. I slipped past the grazing blade and struck her waist.
Snap!
Number 20 sprawled on the ground.
"Ow, that huuuurts!"
"...Tch. Power still feels short."
"What... what kinda power... Been training external arts or something?"
"Doesn't Ghost Hand One Demon's form itself bolster external cultivation?"
"Who in their right mind hones it this far? Spend that time on the next form instead! One new form alone boosts you noticeably!"
"First Demon used to say something often."
"Wh-what?! First Demon?! What'd she say?!"
"Easily won power comes with reasons."
She always told me to build from the ground up.
"Said if you don't wanna die, skip the sword and just swing fists forever."
"...No way First Demon talks like that. She's so refined. Don't slander her!"
Living in a fantasy.
I turned my head smoothly. Best not to shatter it.
"I'll drill Pae-myo more."
"The rest? At this pace, you'll be bones by the time you finish Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art."
"Ah. Other Soul-Pulling Thrust forms? Let's learn together. Mutual benefit."
"...Your volume's already insane."
"Not enough."
"Ugh."
Number 20 beckoned me with deadpan eyes.
"Grab two wooden sticks over there. Sword-length."
Student to teacher, I followed without question. Returned with branches; she took one.
"Second form's for arm-wrestling blades. Ma-cha. Butt them together. Moderate internal energy. Don't snap 'em."
I did as told. I felt her internal energy rising.
The touching sticks quivered.
"Imagine swords: Ma-cha wins the clash and snaps the opponent's blade. Worlds apart from brute-forcing energy into it."
"What's the exact difference?"
"Energy flow direction. Focus solely on the contact point. Compress the qi outlet razor-thin for explosive burst output. Like so."
Crunch.
Moments later, my stick snapped in half and hit the dirt.
"Ma-cha's pressing stance induces the lockup. Can't flip energy ops on a dime, so pre-boost the key spots."
"Clash your compressed energy spot on purpose?"
"Spot on."
"Miss?"
"Unpowered blade snaps instead."
Every last one extreme to the core.
As if Soul-Pulling Thrust disdained the very idea of failure.
"Next, Gu-ak. Pure iai draw. All-or-nothing opener. Scrape-accelerate from the sheath, one-shot the foe... Ace it, and first exchange ends it. Stance is wide, though-whiff big-time."
"Final one..."
"Dunno hands-on, but book's Pyo-rim. Variation that sprays sword strikes like scattered rain. Light power per hit, sole multi-foe form."
All taught. I mimicked every sword she'd shown.
Pae-myo, Ma-cha, Gu-ak, Pyo-rim.
Rivalry sparked, Number 20 paced my grind. Fell flat most rounds, but she pushed hard.
"Number 30's off somehow."
"How so?"
"Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art's got nine forms, yeah? Standard: lock one, advance next."
"Correct."
"Power spikes per form. Insight, body, energy-all surge. Post-Ghost Hand One Demon and Soul-Pulling Thrust? First-rate usual. Masses hit peak post-third."
"Third... Tyrannical Demon Path?"
"Yep, Pae-ryeok-ma-do. But you're peak realm without full Soul-Pulling Thrust vars. Still drilling Ghost Hand One Demon to boot..."
Number 20 idly toed the air beside me. Pristine Ghost Hand One Demon-Demon Horn.
"...Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art turns you rabid inevitably. Deeper mastery, likelier. Flip side... no sign from Number 30. Peak or not."
"Hmm."
"My take: chase quick wins, art corrupts you. Number 30's bedrock foundation? Madness hits, you tame it."
Not groundless. First Demon hammered basics plenty.
But didn't feel like the whole story.
Those razor-edge fights. Near-madness gripped me time and again.
Not mere pain. Basics alone won't cut it. Mastering the totality ties to willpower.
Body in motion, refusal to quit.
I flowed into Ghost Hand One Demon lightly. Form set, first-stage infinity still ahead.
"Then Number 20 trains with me too."
"...Killing me already... ugh... hate losing to you though... Fine. Catch up soon-stay sharp."
"Waiting."
Two grind better than solo.
Obvious truth proved: rivalry shoved me to Soul-Pulling Thrust's fourth variation effortlessly. Neck-and-neck spurred massive gains.
"...Hoo."
Number 20 transformed too. Dormant sword tip now faintly sheathed in aura.
Realm charging peak. Wall cracking.
I clutched my honed blade.
From scabbard, bloodsword accelerated.
Amid battered rocks beyond repair, I pictured my potential plain.
---Sssch.
A line scored the massive boulder. It split in two; shards flew wide.
Cut not mirror-smooth. Far from old Number 20's polish.
Crude, but severed clean. The behemoth before me.
Grown: cultivation. Sword. Heart.
I smiled softly. Near-simultaneous: orders from above.
"Number 20. Number 30."
The cold voice we'd heard before delivered.
"Mission."