Chapter 19
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: The Sore Finger
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The arena of the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament had by now become a chaotic slaughterhouse, qi and blood tangled in a deadly mess.
In that pandemonium, only two streaks of light blazed through the air, tracing wildly different paths.
Kwaaaang—!
With a thunderous boom, a Mosan Sect disciple was hurled into the air.
The path Peng Soyeon's saber had carved looked as if a giant had clawed through it, leaving devastation in its wake.
She didn't so much swing the blade as let it drag her along.
Sweat poured down like a waterfall, droplets clinging precariously to her eyelashes.
'Please watch... Brother. You're watching, right...!'
Her gaze wasn't on her defeated foe but fixed solely on Peng Jeongbo, who stood indifferently below the arena.
Longing.
The desperate craving for his approval gnawed at her from within, driving her into a frenzy.
Her frantic struggle was so precarious it squeezed the breath from every onlooker.
Srash.
In stark contrast, Yi Yi's footsteps were utterly silent, as if he trod without disturbing a single falling leaf.
A spear from the Nangong Clan struck like a venomous serpent at his vital points, but his form scattered like smoke.
In the instant the spear tip grazed his robe, his sword was already inside his opponent's guard, halted at the solar plexus.
'I won't... fight the flow.'
Senior Disciple's teachings echoed in his ears.
The state of selfless detachment, free from desire or fear. His sword lacked flashiness but was transparent as clear water, untainted by any murkiness.
The spectators, entranced by that serene beauty, let out gasps of admiration.
As time wore on, the contrast between the two grew ever sharper.
Peng Soyeon burned like wildfire, reducing all around her to ashes, while Yi Yi flowed like a stream, quenching everything in his path.
Countless prodigies of the martial world fell to their hands.
"Damn it... that girl's lost her mind!"
"That guy's sword... it doesn't even touch you, but it feels like you're being sliced."
The losers' laments filled the arena.
As the sun dipped low and the red sunset began to swallow Mount Wudang...
The final two names were called.
"Main draw match thirty-six! Hebei Peng Clan's Peng Soyeon! Mount Hua Sect's Yi Yi!"
At last, the eye of the storm faced the silent abyss.
Peng Soyeon's bloodshot eyes clashed in the air with Yi Yi's clear, deep gaze.
Tension thick as a drawn bowstring filled the arena; even the hushed crowd couldn't swallow without sound.
"You okay?"
Every muscle in my body screamed in protest.
Like a bowstring pulled taut, all my nerves on edge after a full day of nonstop combat.
My fingertips trembled uncontrollably.
Partly from exhaustion, but more from the deep-seated pain surging through my meridians.
Absorbing and deflecting the auras of so many prodigies had thrown my qi and blood into turmoil.
Senior Disciple's voice pierced my ear.
Her worried gaze fell on my hand.
I clenched my fist to hide the shaking.
"Fighting so many matches in a row with this focus all day... my hands feel like they're going to split open."
No sooner had I spoken than her warm hand covered the back of mine.
The moment her body heat touched me, my churning energy calmed as if by magic.
Her hand was soft, yet the inner strength within it anchored me like unyielding rock.
I looked up at the opposite waiting area.
Peng Soyeon stood alone, rooted in place.
Like an island cut off from the world, ignoring the surrounding clamor, staring fixedly at a single point in the void.
Her shoulders heaved roughly.
Killing intent enveloped her like drifting mist.
"Is Peng Junior Sister... going to be alright?"
The worry slipped out unbidden.
Even in the semifinals, she'd seemed to push beyond human limits.
Blood seeped from the hand gripping her saber, and her eyes had long lost focus.
"From what I saw in the semis... she was already at her limit."
"She's likely fallen into a state of no-self by now."
Senior Disciple's voice dropped low.
She withdrew her gaze from Peng Soyeon and met my eyes squarely.
A chill warning lurked in that look.
"It's a twisted trance born from an obsession that would burn herself up. Uncontrolled power is like a disaster. So Yi Yi, you must be extra careful."
Senior Disciple whispered as she straightened my robes.
"Soyeon has forgotten how to stop. She might not be able to halt her own blade. Got it?"
"...I'll keep that in mind."
I took a deep breath.
Cold air filled my lungs, clearing my mind.
Senior Disciple gave my shoulder a final light tap.
It was silent encouragement, a mark of trust.
'Let's go.'
I slowly opened my eyes and stepped toward the arena.
With each step, the murmuring noise faded into the distance.
Only the sound of my heartbeat and Peng Soyeon's ragged breathing from across the way rang crystal clear, as if they were the last sounds left in the world.
Thud. Thud.
At last, I stood in the arena.
The red sunset reflected off Peng Soyeon's saber blade, casting an eerie crimson glow.
There was no retreating now.
The referee's hand sliced through the air and dropped.
"Taaah!"
A massive boom shattered the arena's stone floor.
Her figure had vanished from sight long ago.
Only a red afterimage and a flesh-rending saber wind assaulted my skin like it would tear it apart.
Peng Clan Saber Art's ultimate technique: Primordial Thunderclap Saber. The blade she wielded was no mere hunk of iron.
'Can't block it.'
Instinct screamed the warning.
Taking it head-on would snap my sword and cleave me in two.
I held my breath and channeled inner energy into my toes.
Executing Plum Blossom Steps, I twisted my body aside.
Kwaaaang! By a hair's breadth, the saber grazed my cheek and slammed into the ground.
Shrapnel scored my face, but there was no time to feel the pain.
"Raaargh!"
Peng Soyeon roared like a beast and swung her saber upward in a reverse grip from the base.
A relentless chain attack, leaving no openings.
I didn't retreat—instead, I plunged into her guard.
As Senior Disciple had taught, the Primordial Thunderclap Saber traded power for wide swings.
I had to leap into the eye of that storm, the gap in its massive force.
Bam! Bam!
My sword deflected her saber.
A heavy shock traveled up my arm to my shoulder, vibrating through my bones.
Her saber was weighty yet swift, savage yet precise.
Peng Soyeon's eyes had rolled back white, focus long gone.
Only raw killing intent burned fiercely.
'Can't last like this...'
Her assaults grew more ferocious with every moment.
Like a candle fueling its own flame by consuming itself, she devoured her limits to pour out more power.
Get caught in this momentum, and it was over. I had to shift the flow.
I steadied my breathing.
As her saber arced down toward my crown, I didn't raise my sword vertically—instead, I tilted it at an angle.
Softness overcomes hardness.
Tsutsutsutsu—!
Saber met sword, sparks flying.
I used her force against her, sliding my blade along hers.
The massive saber's trajectory veered slightly.
Peng Soyeon, off-balance, pitched forward.
"Haat!"
The opening.
Seven Plum Swords ultimate technique: Plum Blossoms in Full Bloom.
In an instant, my sword tip split into countless paths, embroidering the air.
Like plum petals scattering in the wind, razor-sharp sword qi surrounded Peng Soyeon from all sides.
"Kuh...!"
Peng Soyeon instinctively pulled her saber back to defend, but her momentum had already crumbled.
Her blade cleaved empty air, insufficient against the onslaught of petals.
The sword qi grazed her robes, sheared her hair, pressing in relentlessly.
'What that girl needs is someone else to cut her down.'
A voice seemed to brush past.
I twisted my sword path.
Not to slice flesh, but to bind her strikes.
Seven sword shadows coiled around her saber blade, clinging tenaciously.
Terror flashed in Peng Soyeon's eyes.
No matter how immense the power, a saber you couldn't swing was useless.
"Th-this... puny thing!"
She screamed in fury, wrenching desperately to free her saber.
I felt her pour all her inner energy into the blade's heavy tip.
Her wrist tendons bulged as if to burst.
That was the moment. With her power focused at the end, the grip on her hilt loosened ever so slightly.
'Now.'
Without hesitation, I flipped my sword and struck the inside of her wrist—at the Hegu Acupoint—with the flat.
Thak—!
A dull thud, and her hand sprang open limply.
Against her will, the massive saber flew into the air.
Claaang—!
A cold metallic ring echoed across the arena.
The weapon, an extension of her very soul, clattered on the ground.
She stared at her empty hand in disbelief.
Her madness-glazed eyes shook uncontrollably, filling for the first time with raw fear.
Silence.
For that split second, all sounds in the world seemed swallowed.
Then, a roar that tore the heavens shattered the quiet.
"Waaaaah!"
Thousands of spectators surged to their feet as one.
Thunderous applause and cheers crashed like waves against my eardrums.
The name of Mount Hua—and Yi Yi—filled the skies over Mount Wudang.
Yet amid the uproar, I looked only at the woman before me.
Peng Soyeon gazed vacantly at her fallen saber.
Her empty hand trembled; her shoulders shook pitifully.
With her rampaging aura drained away, only a fragile girl yearning for approval remained.
I slowly sheathed my sword.
Click.
The sound of the guard closing reached her ears; Peng Soyeon slowly raised her head.
Her tear-streaked face met my gaze.
As Senior Disciple and my senior brothers would have, I extended my hand calmly.
"Good match, Junior Sister."