Heavenly Flower Pursuit of the Dao Art (2)
In a training hall deep within the inner compound of the Sichuan Dang Family, Cheonhwa threw himself into his practice.
He had a month until the main tournament. While everyone else devoted themselves to the exchanges they had never managed before, he was the opposite—and not solely because of his diligence. Far too many people wanted to meet him.
As the great disciple of his generation, he could not simply refuse every visitor. So, swallowing his discomfort, he had accepted Jeokhwa and Myeonghwa’s help and gone through the motions of socializing—but even that had its limits. From the great sects down to the middling ones, nearly every participant at the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering had crowded around him. Without the excuse of protecting his training hours, he might have been hounded day and night.
Junior Sister Yeonhwa is not someone you can face with half-hearted resolve.
Cheonhwa knew her potential well. Back at the main mountain they had sparred once a month, and every time Yeonhwa had shown startling growth.
Almost a full month has already passed since we left the mountain for the Gathering.
Add the main-tournament preparation period and it came to nearly two months. He had no doubt that Yeonhwa would have grown still further in that time.
I’ve been so buried in my own matches and training that I never managed to watch hers. I can’t guess how far she’s come—but complacency would be fatal.
Steadying himself, Cheonhwa adjusted his grip on Okgyeong and settled into stance. What he was refining was the mid-stage apex formula of the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven—the condensation of its subtleties—that he had grasped in the preliminary finals.
Heavy as a weight sword, fierce as a hard sword, dyeing the very space around it like a blunt sword—all of those natures balanced beneath the Middle Way.
But the drain is just as extreme.
Because so many sword principles were packed into a single form, the backlash was severe and the internal energy consumption brutal. Without full mastery of the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art, the Vast Heaven Qi Art, and the Dark Heaven True Qi, it would have been utterly unmanageable.
In return, the power matches the cost.
An ordinary First-class martial artist would never withstand a single strike. Even a Peak Expert under restrictions could be forced into an even fight. Measured against superior martial arts, it lacked nothing.
It has already gone beyond something you can simply call the apex of a sword art.
Up through the early apex it had still felt like an extension of the original forms. From the mid-stage apex onward, it felt entirely like Cheonhwa’s own sword. Calling it merely an apex formula no longer seemed enough; it needed a name of its own.
Some martial arts include key formulas meant to supplement and elevate a specific art.
The most famous of those was the Huashan Sect’s Plum Blossom Sword Formula—also called the Plum Blossom Sword Art. It held the core of Huashan’s superior learning; train it, and any higher sword art you already possessed rose naturally to a higher realm.
It will take time to finish another formula and complete the mid-stage sequence. I can think on the name carefully until then.
How far would the mid-stage apex of the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven carry him against Yeonhwa? He could not say until the lid was lifted. Yet he also could not deny the quiet anticipation of sparring her again after so long.
In the quiet training hall, the sharp whistle of a jade-colored wooden sword cutting empty air rang out again and again.
Yeonhwa moved between training hall and guest quarters, pouring herself into practice.
Learning that Cheonhwa was her first opponent in the main tournament had startled her—but it was also something to welcome.
It’s the perfect chance to measure how much each of us has grown.
She had watched every one of Cheonhwa’s matches at the Gathering and knew exactly how far he had come.
We were walking almost side by side, then one day he pulled ahead—and when he suddenly reached the extreme of First-class, I was genuinely shocked.
Even those born with talent often failed to reach the extreme of First-class until after they passed twenty. Cheonhwa, born with ordinary gifts, had produced an extraordinary result through chance encounters and relentless effort.
So I worked twice as hard not to fall behind.
She had digested the energy of Seol Wol-hwa and fully mastered the Dark Heaven True Qi—yet the distance between her and Cheonhwa only seemed to grow.
Common sense says he still needs time to break through the wall. I should be able to catch up in that window…
She felt how lazy that thinking was. Cheonhwa had not stopped growing even at the Gathering. After endless attempts, he had reached the mid-stage apex of the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven against a Peak Expert of the Shaolin Temple. By the time the tournament ended, he might well have perfected it.
She was called the foremost genius among the third-generation disciples; her talent was exceptional and her effort never flagged. Still the gap only widened.
To close it, Yeonhwa created a martial art of her own: the Heavenly Flower Pursuit of the Dao Art.
A large part of the gap between me and Junior Brother Cheonhwa comes down to foundation—basic physical capacity.
Cheonhwa had fully mastered the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art, and through various fortunes his external cultivation ranked among the best in the entire Zhongnan Sect. Yeonhwa’s external arts, by contrast, were nothing special. So she reverse-engineered the external achievements he had made and applied them to herself.
My original goal was to reproduce the full mastery of the Balanced Heaven Qi Accumulation Art. In practice, it was impossible.
What Cheonhwa had completed was the product of time, effort, and chance. Differing conditions—gender among them—made perfect replication impossible. Still, nothing better existed as a reference, so she shifted toward creating a new external art on that foundation. Even while fighting through the preliminaries she refined the Heavenly Flower Pursuit of the Dao Art, and at last achieved results that satisfied her.
All that remains is to confirm it in real combat.
Complacency was still forbidden. A full month remained before the main tournament. In that time Cheonhwa might achieve another dramatic leap. To catch the boy who was almost certainly training even now, Yeonhwa turned her steps toward the practice hall.
Time flew. As the days passed, people gathered one after another in Chengdu of Sichuan Province.
The city had already been livelier than usual because of the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering. With the main tournament approaching, the numbers exploded. Dang-ga-ta could not absorb every outsider, so the districts of Chengdu nearest the town naturally reaped the benefit.
In one of the city’s inns, the mid-ranking pillars of the Zhongnan Sect had gathered.
Gakhyeon, a first-generation disciple and the Sect Leader’s own pupil, had come as the party’s representative. Second-generation disciples including Inwol accompanied him as escorts. A good number of third-generation disciples had followed simply to watch the Gathering. Housing them all meant renting every guest room the inn possessed.
When the innkeeper received a heavy purse along with the declaration that the entire place was reserved, the corners of his mouth climbed nearly to his ears.
“Has word been sent to Cheonhwa’s side?”
“Yes. They should be here shortly.”
Inwol nodded as he answered Gakhyeon’s question. Speak of the tiger and he appears: five figures stepped into the inn.
They were the five third-generation disciples who had advanced to the main tournament, Cheonhwa among them. The five offered formal greetings the moment they saw Gakhyeon and the second-generation seniors, then moved deeper into the inn where the others waited.
At once the third-generation disciples poured out and surrounded them.
“All five of you—you worked hard!”
“We heard! Every single one of you made the main tournament?”
“The senior uncles and grand-uncles said it’s the first time that’s ever happened since the Gathering began!”
“I could believe it of Ubo or Junior Sister Yeonhwa, but the rest of you climbing through as well?!”
“People talk about how strong our generation is for its age, but I never expected proof like this.”
“Hey, hey—speak straight even if your mouth’s crooked. It isn’t the whole third generation that’s impressive. It’s these five. Ubo and Junior Sister Yeonhwa are in a class of their own, sure, but the other three still rank high among our peers.”
“Would you look at this guy, raining on a perfectly good day? That’s it—everyone, let’s straighten him out.”
“Aaaagh! I only spoke my conscience! No violence!”
They chattered at full volume and even started roughhousing among themselves. The familiar racket almost made it feel as though they had returned to the Zhongnan Sect.
Cheonhwa would gladly have soaked in the noise, but he saw Gakhyeon’s expression twisting. If he left them to it, a scolding was inevitable. He lightly clapped his hands, channeling internal energy into the sound.
A sharp crack like torn air froze every third-generation disciple in place. When their eyes fixed on him, Cheonhwa spoke.
“I’m grateful for the grand welcome, but could the rest wait a little? We still have unfinished business with our seniors.”
The third-generation disciples read the room at once and cleared the space as quietly as they could. The tension in Gakhyeon’s face gradually eased.
“You’re more skilled at handling your sect brothers and sisters as great disciple than I expected.”
“They’re just excited after so long. For the most part they respect what I say.”
“Make good use of that respect while you have it. Otherwise someone will start climbing over your head.”
“You say that as if someone already did.”
“Of course someone did. So I showed him the difference and broke the habit.”
Gakhyeon delivered the blood-chilling remark as if it were nothing and took the seat of honor. The others found their places and sat.
“First of all, all five of you have done well. That every one of you reached the main tournament is an achievement without precedent.”
Gakhyeon’s praise startled Cheonhwa and the others alike. Praise from Gakhyeon was rare; their results must have pleased him more than they knew.
“But even if all of you advanced, you must not grow careless. As you know, the main tournament—unlike the preliminaries—can only be won by pure strength.”
In the preliminaries, favorable draws could carry a fighter through relatively easily. From the main tournament onward, no such luck could be expected. Only the cream of the rising talents from across the Central Plains had gathered here. Even the best bracket had its limits. In the end, what a participant needed to climb higher was his or her own skill.
“More than that—with five of you, the bracket may force brother against brother.”
Cases of multiple disciples from one sect advancing only to meet midway were countless. Unlike the preliminaries, the main tournament set match order at random; they could even face each other in the first round.
“So steel yourselves for it.”
“……”
At Gakhyeon’s words, Cheonhwa and the other four could only offer bitter smiles.
“Great-Uncle Gakhyeon… the truth is, this bracket already has one match between our own.”
“Tch. Five people—of course the odds of drawing someone from the same sect right from the start are high. So who faces whom?”
“That would be… me and Junior Sister Yeonhwa.”
“……”
For a moment Gakhyeon’s words failed him entirely.
Cheonhwa and Yeonhwa—the two third-generation disciples of Zhongnan classed as beyond ordinary measure—sparring from the very first round?
He muttered before he could stop himself.
“Did someone rig the bracket?”
The situation was so absurd that the thought rose unbidden.