The Flood Dragon Meets the Azure Sky

On the ferry boat, Jang Gwang angled his curved broadsword and grinned.

"I'll yield the first move. It's your first time fighting on water, after all—I should give you a moment to find your footing."

His tone was leisurely, but his eyes brimmed with fighting spirit.

Thrum—

Namgung Cheon drew Changcheon and let it hang loose at his side as he answered.

"I won't refuse the courtesy."

With that single short phrase, Namgung Cheon's figure blurred.

Pwat!

The azure sword qi steeping his blade surged toward Jang Gwang's throat—a thrust simple in form, but razor-sharp.

Jang Gwang didn't panic. He rolled his foot, violently twisting the boat's center of gravity.

Lurch!

The ferry boat rocked hard. An ordinary warrior would have staggered and lost his footing entirely.

But Namgung Cheon's feet held firm, as if rooted to the deck itself.

'Oh ho?'

Jang Gwang's eyes widened. He leaned back to evade the slash while snapping his hips and sweeping his curved blade upward from below.

Kaang!

Sword qi crashed against saber force, scattering sparks. The heavy shock ran up through Namgung Cheon's wrist, but he rode the rebound, spinning his body with it—a downward slash charged with rotational force.

Rather than raising his blade to block, Jang Gwang kicked the boat again.

Bang!

The vessel swung sharply sideways, sliding Namgung Cheon's landing point out from under him—and in the same breath, Jang Gwang's curved blade coiled like a serpent, burrowing toward his flank. A crafty assault that turned the terrain itself into a weapon. This was how the Janggang Flood Dragon fought.

Namgung Cheon remained composed. Twisting midair, he swung his sword and knocked the incoming saber aside.

Chang!

With a ring of metal, he alighted on the bow. Even at the moment of landing, the boat did not stir ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so much as a hair—light as a feather settling onto water.

Namgung Cheon steadied his breath.

'Water truly is different, after all.'

The ground's repulsion was never constant here. The rocking of the boat, the pulse of the waves, even the direction of the wind—everything was a variable. Yet Namgung Cheon found himself savoring the very uncertainty of it. He closed his eyes, then opened them, and in that fleeting moment the verses of the Great Void Heart-Protecting Art flowed through his inner world.

'No-Mind, No-Self.'

His stray thoughts dissolved one by one. The lapping of the river, the creak of the timber beneath his feet, even the killing intent pouring off Jang Gwang—everything came into vivid clarity. The internal energy in his dantian began to undulate gently in time with that flow, moving like water itself: naturally, and only as much as needed, only where needed.

'I can see it.'

The next movement of the waves. The fine tremor of Jang Gwang's muscles as they contracted. A smile spread across Namgung Cheon's lips.

"Come again."

At the provocation, Jang Gwang's mouth curled up at the corners.

"Not bad at all. Then I'll play with you properly!"

This time, no tricks of rocking the boat. Jang Gwang came rushing in for true.

Shwaaek—!

He charged head-on, his curved blade laden with crushing saber force. The Water King's secret swordsmanship passed down through his line—the First Style of the Eight Styles of Hegemonic Water: Kwaedo Nanma, the Swift Blade Through Tangled Hemp.

Dozens of blade shadows assailed Namgung Cheon like a storm, fierce as a current tearing through water, relentless as wave after crashing wave. Namgung Cheon immediately stepped into the Heavenly Walking Steps, swimming between the shadows.

When Jang Gwang's blade curved left, Namgung Cheon's body had already read the trajectory and flowed right. When the saber came in as a thrust, he turned it aside softly with his own edge and slipped into the opening.

Chang! Chaechang! Kang!

The ring of steel never ceased. Jang Gwang hurled his attacks with ferocious abandon, yet not so much as a hem of Namgung Cheon's clothing was grazed—rather, as time passed, it was Namgung Cheon's sword that pressed Jang Gwang back.

'Is this even possible?'

Cold sweat trickled down Jang Gwang's brow. The battlefield of open water should have favored him absolutely. Every clash of blades sent the waves roiling, and the roiling waves shook the boat without pause. And yet his opponent stood as comfortably as if planted on flat ground.

"Hup!"

Jang Gwang swung his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blade in a great arc, trying to force Namgung Cheon back. But Namgung Cheon did not take the force head-on.

Changcheon Mansang Style: Unhae Jangcheon—Cloud Sea Obscuring Heaven.

His sword moved in a soft curve, as if gathering Jang Gwang's blade into an embrace. And in an instant, the saber force that had been flying in a straight line scattered ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like mist. Through the gap, Namgung Cheon counterattacked—Changcheon shot upward, splitting into dozens of sword shadows. A dazzling blade dance in which no one could tell real strikes from feints.

Chijik!

Shallow wounds opened on Jang Gwang's shoulder and thigh.

"Kkuk!"

Jang Gwang fell back, gasping for breath.

"Damn it. Faster than me, are you? I hate to admit it, but you're something."

He re-gripped his curved blade and lowered his stance.

"But it's not over yet. What comes now is the real thing."

A crimson aura rose from his entire body like heat haze, and his eyes flashed.

"Take this!"

Bang!

Jang Gwang stamped hard on one end of the ferry boat. Instantly the bow shot skyward, the whole vessel rising nearly vertical. At the same moment, his hand whipped down and struck the river itself.

Shwaaa!

A colossal pillar of water crashed over Namgung Cheon's field of vision. Terrain-craft of the most cunning kind—a water technique meant to capsize the boat, shatter his balance, and land a fatal blow through the blinding spray.

But—

Shwaak!

A single stroke of azure sword qi split the deluge clean in two. The figure revealed between the parted waters was a marvel to behold: Namgung Cheon stood at perfect ease upon the near-vertical hull, as though it were a level plain.

"…!"

Horror flooded Jang Gwang's eyes. It was the moment he realized that parlor tricks of this caliber wouldn't touch the man at all.

Namgung Cheon gazed down at him, his expression as calm as ever.

"Show me this 'real thing' of yours properly. Such trifles won't work on me."

Namgung Cheon's sword leveled at Jang Gwang.

The deck of the Golden Dragon Ship had fallen so silent that even breathing seemed to stop. Everyone clung to the railings, gazing lost in awe at the duel unfolding on the river below.

When Jang Gwang had first come surging in with his ferocious assault, the onlookers had assumed the outcome a foregone conclusion. An unfamiliar battlefield of open water, and the overwhelming reputation of the Janggang Flood Dragon—call Namgung Cheon the Sword Ghost all you liked, there was no way he could show his true strength on a ferry boat that didn't even offer a decent place to plant his feet.

And yet.

"Is that… even possible?"

Baek Yeop of the Qingcheng Sect murmured blankly. The scene reflected in his eyes defied all common sense. Namgung Cheon had evaded every one of Jang Gwang's fierce blows and answered with a counterattack of his own. And though the boat lurched and spray obscured the view, his balance had not wavered once. If anything, the longer the fight went on, the more often Jang Gwang's blade was slicing empty air.

"He's being pushed back—Jang Gwang is being pushed back!"

Someone cried out in a voice thick with disbelief. And so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was. Jang Gwang held the initiative, but that was all; not a single attack was landing.

Namgung Hwi found himself gripping the railing without realizing it. Gooseflesh crawled up his arms. It was a battle-trance—jeonryul, a shudder of awe.

'He isn't merely dodging.'

Namgung Hwi's eyes were precise. When a wave rose, his brother lifted his body with it; when the boat tilted, he shifted his weight. Like one body with the river itself, he rode the current instead of fighting it—surging over it, through it.

'That footwork—what in the world is it?'

It resembled the Namgung Clan's Infinite Steps, yet was wholly different—far freer, far more radical. 'Cheon-ah, just how far have you gone?'

Then, beside him, Mujin spoke up.

"Young master, did you know?"

Namgung Hwi glanced at him, and Mujin went on.

"Your brother, young master Namgung Cheon, grows stronger by the day. When we first met, we were an even match."

Kaang!

A sharp ring of metal rolled across the river. Jang Gwang's curved blade came rushing for Namgung Cheon's throat, but Namgung Cheon gave his sword the slightest twist and let the attack slide past—and at the same time, subtly tilted its angle further. A masterstroke of technique that turned the opponent's own strength against him and toppled his center of gravity.

Mujin continued.

"But a month later, he was half a hand above me."

Pwat!

As Jang Gwang staggered, his balance lost, Namgung Cheon's sword bored in like a serpent. Jang Gwang threw himself backward in haste, but could not stop his collar from being sheared away.

"And right now…"

Mujin's eyes narrowed. An unbelievable scene was unfolding on the water. Jang Gwang was flailing his curved blade in a desperate frenzy, and Namgung Cheon was evading every strike of it with room to spare.

Mujin added with a wry smile.

"He's grown stronger than he was even then."

"…"

The sight before their eyes proved that Mujin was no braggart.

At that moment—

"Ha! Damn it all!"

Jang Gwang's grumbling carried over from the ferry boat. He halted his assault and retreated, wrenching in great gulps of air, sweat beading thick across his forehead.

"I thought loaches only lived in rivers—turns out the Namgung keeps one too. You slip away beautifully, I'll give you that."

Jang Gwang clicked his tongue. Even on a battlefield of his own choosing, his opponent showed not a trace of fatigue. If he let this drag on, he would exhaust himself and collapse on his own.

'One strike, then.'

Jang Gwang's eyes changed.

"Very well. I concede the point—I underestimated you."

He re-gripped his curved blade.

"So from here on, I come at you with everything. Block or dodge, that's your problem!"

Wuwoong—

Crimson sword force erupted from his blade. At the same moment, a blue light began to shimmer around his left hand.

"Never thought I'd have to unfold this one!"

Even as he thrust his saber at Namgung Cheon, he slammed the power in his left hand down upon the Janggang itself.

The final style of the Eight Styles of Hegemonic Water: Suryong Seungcheon—the Water Dragon Ascends to Heaven.

Kwaaaaa!

With Jang Gwang's roar, the surrounding riverwater spiraled upward, boiling into a colossal pillar that writhed like a living dragon. Within the narrow confines of the ferry boat, there was nowhere to run.

Yet Namgung Cheon met the rising pillar of water head-on. And slowly, he raised his sword. At its tip, an azure radiance gathered.

Changcheon—the Azure Sky. A brilliance worthy of its name.