The Settlement (2)
“Found him! It’s Zhongnan’s Mad Sword!”
“So the big catch showed himself from the start.”
“Pah—worth choking on all that dust to force our way through.”
Through the rising haze of dirt, the disciples of Paegeommun emerged into view.
The qi pressing in at once suggested a mixed force of First-class martial artists and Peak Experts.
Yet the men of Paegeommun were far from whole themselves. Some looked ashen, their qi and blood tangled out of order. They, too, had taken the full brunt of the aftershocks from the Peerless Experts’ clash.
And still every last one of them is smiling.
It was no forced grin. These were smiles born of genuine delight in the fight—smiles worn even by men already carrying internal injuries. Perhaps that was only to be expected of a sect said to be mad for the sword. That very frenzy was the strength that had lifted Paegeommun into the ranks of the Four Unorthodox Factions and the Five Righteous Alliances.
But we have no intention of giving way so easily either.
Even if the war’s outcome would be decided by the Peerless Experts’ battle, the struggle among the lesser ranks was no trifle. A sect’s rise or fall rested, in the end, upon the martial artists who belonged to it. A sect with no martial artists left was a sect whose bloodline had already been cut.
I’ll put down as many of them here as I can.
That, of course, was no simple task. Shockwaves from the Peerless Experts’ collisions kept erupting without warning; fighting here was little different from trading blows in a storm where lightning fell at random.
The one mercy is that the enemy faces the same conditions.
No matter how stubbornly they charged while ignoring their internal wounds, the fact remained that their bodies were not sound.
And that is the opening.
Cheonhwa swung Okgyeong, sheathed in Intent Qi Manifestation, and cut down the Paegeommun disciples who rushed him one after another. Pure white flame carved trails through the dust, not merely meeting their attacks but shattering them outright.
“As expected of the Mad Sword—we can’t even get close!”
“We won’t win fighting him head-on! Whittle him down with sword winds!”
Shouts rose from every side among the Paegeommun men. Madness for the sword did not make them fools. A portion of them launched sword winds and sword qi from a distance for suppression. Dozens of blade-gales streaked toward Cheonhwa—and in the instant before they reached him—
Kuuung!
An aftershock from the Peerless Experts’ collision exploded outward and swept the surroundings. The clustered sword winds and sword qi were caught in the blast and scattered into nothing.
Under these conditions, neither sword winds nor sword qi—nor even a method like Striking the Mountain to Hit the Ox—could be used properly. One might manage it by weaving an extremely fine structure of true qi, but the cost would outweigh the gain.
“Don’t fling sword winds or qi waves! They get swallowed by the aftershocks and vanish!”
“Wrap Intent Qi Manifestation around your blades and cut him yourselves!”
“Surround him and attack!”
Having grasped the truth as well, the Paegeommun disciples shifted tactics again and began to press Cheonhwa hard.
“Support the Flash Sword Dragon!”
“Don’t let those unorthodox dogs run wild!”
Orthodox martial artists nearby forced their way into the fray to aid him, and in moments the field dissolved into a chaotic free-for-all.
If this continues, our side will take heavy losses. If only there were a more efficient way to strike…
While he searched for some method, a single idea flashed through Cheonhwa’s mind.
There is already something on this battlefield that holds the greatest influence of all.
He cast a sidelong glance toward the ground where the Peerless Experts were fighting. Shockwaves burst out without cease, sweeping orthodox and unorthodox alike, and for those brief instants everyone had to freeze in place simply to endure the impact.
I will make maximum use of the moments the shockwaves force them to stop.
Cheonhwa turned his back to the Peerless Experts’ battlefield and stood firm. Before long another collision’s aftershock erupted, and a tremendous impact rolled across the field. Naturally Cheonhwa, the orthodox fighters, and the unorthodox fighters were all caught in it, and all of them halted for a beat to weather the force—
All but one. Cheonhwa alone moved through the shock as if strolling.
What in the world—?
How is he doing that?!
Orthodox and unorthodox alike doubted their eyes. The shockwave passed through Cheonhwa as though he were not there at all—beyond a leaf scattered on the wind, as if he had become the wind itself.
Heavenly Star Shift
Striking the Mountain to Hit the Ox was an art that used true qi and intent as a medium to deliver attacks across great distance. Heavenly Star Shift reversed that principle, taking the very medium of transmission as its foundation and letting every kind of attack flow past and through the body—a defensive form.
It only works because these are aftershocks of a collision, but the fact that it works is what matters.
It was not without drawbacks. The form was still unfamiliar, demanding intense concentration, and it could not be linked into other techniques. Yet the Paegeommun disciples were frozen in place simply to endure the impact, and the aftershock had even loosened the internal barriers they had wrapped around their bodies.
Cutting down an enemy who has stopped and exposed an opening is a simple matter!
One. Then another. Calmly he carved vital points and thinned their numbers. Of course, it could not last long.
“Attack before the next shock hits!”
As the aftershock subsided and the Paegeommun men recovered, they came at him again. Cheonhwa met their assault with flowing sword and heavy sword techniques in turn. Even without a means to strike many at once, he was confident so long as his only task was to hold. The Paegeommun disciples knew it too; impatience began to weigh on their blade tips, and that impatience bred wavering that opened gaps.
Cheonhwa was not so careless as to miss those openings.
Seogeok!
A sharp hiss of steel, and sword-light flared and died. Two Paegeommun disciples caught within the arc of his blade path fell where they stood. Tension and exhilaration both rippled through the remaining men.
“He’s filthy strong.”
“That’s what makes the fight worth having!”
They paid no mind to their allies’ deaths and instead rejoiced at an enemy’s strength—a sight that left even Cheonhwa chilled. Then survival instinct rang its alarm. Another aftershock was coming.
Kuuung!
The blast swept the field. Cheonhwa slipped free of the shockwave with the form of Heavenly Star Shift. A few other Zhongnan experts tried the same method to escape the impact—
“Cough!”
—but nearly half of them failed and took deep internal injuries. Heavenly Star Shift was an exceedingly difficult form, the reverse application of Striking the Mountain to Hit the Ox. Cheonhwa could prepare in advance, sensing when the next blast would come. The others had to answer in the instant it erupted; if their reactions lagged, they suffered as they just had.
Not everyone failed, however. Those who, like Cheonhwa, had let the shockwave pass with Heavenly Star Shift moved at once. Even a battle cry felt like a luxury in that brief span. Within it, they had to cut down as many Paegeommun disciples as possible.
“Kh—we can’t just take this!”
“If we fight while enduring the shockwaves—gahk?!”
“Wrap your protective arts thicker!”
“If you’re going to use the aftershocks, then so will we!”
The men of Paegeommun did not simply submit. Some tried to fight while ignoring the shockwaves and suffered grave internal wounds. Others poured out vast demonic qi to reinforce their barriers and weather the ambush. Those who had learned the Heaven-Overturning Qi Armor rebounded the shockwaves with reverse-repelling arts and even turned them into counterattacks.
And so the melee entered an entirely new phase—no longer a mere tangle of two sides, but a contest of who could better ride the aftershocks of the Peerless Experts’ collisions and carve down their foes. Amid that still more chaotic field, Cheonhwa never ceased to extend his sword.
On the battlefield where the Peerless Experts’ collisions never stopped, Yeobhwa was weathering the aftershocks. His protective arts could not absorb every impact, yet a body refined through outer martial training was strong enough to endure the force and keep moving. And if he could move, he could fight.
Through dust and shockwaves he drove his fists toward the Paegeommun disciples closing in. A soft whirl. Soft-hard force coiled around both hands and took the shape of empty-hand strikes—
An applied form of the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven, rewritten for fist arts alongside Cheonhwa
It was a true-qi technique he could now perform as naturally as breathing. The tightly compressed fist-winds held their shape even amid the shockwaves and did not scatter.
Kwagagak!
His fists drove out along the paths of the Five Elements Fist. The instant they met the enemy’s protective arts, the whirling soft-hard force tore the internal barrier apart. The heavy blow that followed drove into a vital point and carried the impact deep inside.
“Gahk?!”
The struck Paegeommun disciple staggered several steps back and dropped to his knees. His face had gone a livid green, and blood ran from his mouth—deep internal injury from the principles of the Internal Strike Method. Yeobhwa did not waste the opening; he finished the man with a crushing blow to the crown of the head.
The forms I practiced are working properly in real combat!
Everything he had poured into training had not been wasted. Joy swelled in his chest, but there was no time to linger in sentiment. Enemies still swarmed around him, and he still had to endure the endless aftershocks of the Peerless Experts’ clash.
It’s all right. I can do this.
The fist forms he had rewritten from the middle stances of the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven—if he could only use them at the right moments, he would be able to cut his way through even this brutal situation.
Then it came. A presence approached, scattering a vast tide of demonic qi. Yeobhwa turned his head by reflex toward the source—and his eyes flew wide when he saw its owner.
“Gal Sahyeok…?”
The owner of that presence was Yeobhwa’s sworn enemy, Gal Sahyeok. Yet his condition was wrong. His hair hung wild and unbound. His eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. He was pouring out demonic qi without restraint. The moment their gazes met, the man dragged the corner of his mouth upward into a grin.
“Danmokjeong!”
Shouting Yeobhwa’s secular name, Gal Sahyeok charged. He unfurled the Black Wind Divine Art to its extreme and closed the distance as if flying. Yeobhwa thrust out a fist by instinct and caught the sword stroke coming at him.
His blade force is stronger than when we met before.
The shock traveling up his fist made him frown despite himself. Given the nature of demonic arts, a rapid surge in strength was not so strange—yet Yeobhwa felt it was not the demonic arts alone.
This movement… it feels familiar somehow.
While he blocked Gal Sahyeok’s assault, Yeobhwa watched him carefully—and in motions wholly different from their last encounter, he felt a strange sense of recognition.
This is similar to the way the jiangshi move.
There was a difference—sword arts rather than palm methods—but the resemblance ran deep.
And that subtle suction I’ve felt from Gal Sahyeok this whole time. Nine chances out of ten, it’s the Essence-Stealing Qi Absorption Art.
From the vacant look in the man’s eyes onward, everything about him was wrong in one way or another. Yeobhwa set the questions aside for the moment. Beating the enemy before him came first.
I prepared for this day.
He had received help from many people to reach it. Was it not right, then, that he close this chapter with his own hands?
Yeobhwa’s qi-wave trembled. It was the telltale sign of Stored Jin about to be released. At the same time, the soft-hard force coiled around his hands rippled, and all the impact he had stored within it fused with the Stored Jin and detonated.