Chapter 40
Paeng Pung-gyeol landed with an expansive footwork stance, stamping down fiercely as he swung his massive great axe.
Bu—woong—! The air tore away in chunks with a resounding push, the sound echoing sharply. The sheer power suggested that if it connected, it would pulverize anything in its path.
Tian Ailang slipped both fists naturally into the knots of the ambient qi, thrusting them toward the oncoming axe. Along those channels flowed a colossal force mighty enough to topple Mount Tai itself.
Strength met strength. The clash between Tian Ailang and Paeng Pung-gyeol unleashed yet another wave of cataclysmic repercussions.
Kwa-gwa-gwa-bang—! A ferocious explosion rocked heaven and earth. The soldiers, overwhelmed by the intensified collision, didn't dare linger and scrambled farther back in panic.
“Yo ho ho, parrying this great axe with bare fists? Impressive!”
“Hahat!”
Tian Ailang and Paeng Pung-gyeol grinned and charged once more.
Tian Ailang hurled the scattered rubble around them flying with his internal energy.
Pa-pa-pa-pat!
“Yo ho ho.”
Paeng Pung-gyeol swept aside the barrage of incoming stones effortlessly with the broad face of his axe. In that instant, Tian Ailang slipped behind him and thrust a palm strike toward his back.
“Hup!”
Just before the force emission, a surge of protective battle qi blasted outward from Paeng Pung-gyeol's back.
Du-woong! It sealed off the space entirely, denying even penetrating force, let alone a direct blast.
Before Tian Ailang could retract his repelled hand, he sensed something hurtling toward him.
“Kuk!”
A small axe grazed his side, spinning back to Paeng Pung-gyeol mid-flight. Tian Ailang hastily stanched the bleeding from the shallow gash and glared at his foe.
Two axes?
Paeng Pung-gyeol's right hand gripped a large-bladed axe, his left a smaller one.
Paeng Pung-gyeol smirked down at his weapons.
“Full Moon and New Moon. They separate. New Moon's shaped like the axe I used for my first kill.”
“I can feel your attachment to those axes.”
Unbeknownst to themselves, the air and tone between Tian Ailang and Paeng Pung-gyeol had shifted. They'd met as intruder and deviant, but their martial exchange sparked some deeper emotional current. Their mutual reverence for the arts marked each other as true warriors.
Paeng Pung-gyeol nodded.
“Like extensions of myself.”
“Naming weapons feels so foreign.”
“Yo ho ho.”
Paeng Pung-gyeol beamed.
“You—even with a weapon in hand—wouldn't use it, would you?”
Tian Ailang cocked his head. Would I?
“Yo ho ho, a weapon, you see... The moment you name it and call to it, it gains a soul.”
One of Tian Ailang's eyes twitched.
Paeng Pung-gyeol flashed a cryptic smile at him.
“Yo ho ho, tough to grasp? But someday, that named weapon will speak to you. Not in words like a man's, mind. Just an exchange stirring in your heart. The world has a term for it.”
“What is it?”
Tian Ailang leaned in, rapt.
Paeng Pung-gyeol, clearly relishing the talk, chuckled on.
“Body-sword unity.”
“Huh?”
“For me, it'd be body-axe unity.”
“Hearing the weapon's voice brings you to the realm of body-sword unity?”
Before they knew it, the fight halted. They traded insights on the martial way.
“Exactly. Take the sword: Beginners swing by will alone, stacking realm upon realm. Some claim subjugating the sword to your intent is martial supremacy. But they'll hit a wall.”
“Hmm...”
Tian Ailang glimpsed understanding.
“Moving the sword flawlessly to your will matters, sure. But tune to its voice, and the sword's own senses awaken.”
“The sword's senses?”
Tian Ailang's eager attention fired Paeng Pung-gyeol up.
“Yo ho ho ho, yes! Commune with its voice, and it moves itself beyond your awareness.”
“Itself?”
Paeng Pung-gyeol nodded.
“Say you strike from blind. I might not notice, but the axe guards on its own.”
“Can't you do that barehanded?”
Paeng Pung-gyeol shook his head.
“No—that's just perceiving it and reacting. Like my protective qi earlier.”
“Hmm?”
“Top masters fight more by sense than sight.”
Tian Ailang nodded, agreeing.
“Amid endless strikes and guards, one slip spells disaster. Could cost your life.”
“True.”
Tian Ailang recalled their duel—the razor exchanges where lapse meant death, senses blazing alive across his body.
“Right. But what if I slip at the crux? Or foe's move trumps mine?”
“Hm...”
Tian Ailang's eyes lit with insight, fixed on Paeng Pung-gyeol.
“Yes—even my tiny error, the weapon sharing my mind covers it alone.”
“Can't say I feel it yet, but I get it somewhat.”
Paeng Pung-gyeol's smile warmed.
“You would. Yo ho ho.”
Tian Ailang recalled the Twin Ghost Swords left with Song Sogeol. Their sword names and powers had restored his qi and ushered new heights—but not this body-sword unity.
If chance comes, I should swing a blade or weapon myself.
Collecting his thoughts, Tian Ailang asked Paeng Pung-gyeol.
“Why share this martial truth with me? Masters' enlightenments aren't handed out lightly.”
Paeng Pung-gyeol eyed Full Moon and New Moon.
“Call it a whim. You just... click with me.”
“......Creepy reason.”
Tian Ailang slyly shifted, shielding his groin.
“Yo ho ho ho! Even better!”
“Haha...”
The encircling soldiers gaped as Paeng Pung-gyeol and Tian Ailang—locked in murderous transcendent barrages moments ago—now stood idle. Too distant to catch words, they merely watched for cues.
Then, every soldier fixated on them whipped heads toward the mountainside. Screams erupted in chaotic frenzy.
Paeng Pung-gyeol and Tian Ailang turned too.
“Getting rowdy.”
Paeng Pung-gyeol bellowed for Captain Chae.
“Captain Chae!”
His distant subordinate bolted over.
“Yes, Elder!”
“Go see what's up and handle it.”
“On it!”
Captain Chae and a squad thundered toward the uproar.
“Now~ Round two?”
Paeng Pung-gyeol bubbled with glee, but Tian Ailang fretted.
That aura from there... Chanho's. But why's Song Sogeol...?
To the distracted Tian Ailang, Paeng Pung-gyeol murmured warning.
“Lost in thought? One blink, and Full Moon or New Moon claims your head! Yo ho hot!”
Paeng Pung-gyeol flicked New Moon lightly.
Whick!
Tian Ailang leaped back, dodging wide. Sararak. His chest cloth shredded razor-sharp.
No respite—Full Moon arced massively from overhead. That behemoth axe, beyond mortal lift, qi-charged and plummeting like a falling peak.
Tian Ailang surged qi to his toes, unleashing Shrinking Ground Step rearward. Energy-hungry, yet heaven and earth's endless qi lightened him boundlessly.
Kwaang!
Monstrous.
Full Moon's impact cratered the earth like a bomb blast.
Paeng Pung-gyeol swept the lodged Full Moon sideways.
Kwa-ga-ga-ga-ga-gak————! A colossal roar as the ground itself weaponized, hurtling soil and stone at Tian Ailang—fierce qi-laced, blotting escape like ten thousand arrows.
Tian Ailang flung arms wide, erecting a protective qi wall. The barrier absorbed the onslaught.
Ta-da-da-da———!
“Kruk!”
Tian Ailang reeled from brutal rebound agony, qi draining in a flash. It refilled almost instantly.
“Huu.”
No pause. Tian Ailang ducked low, barrel-rolling groundward.
New Moon spun at him from behind—like sentient, ignoring Paeng Pung-gyeol's hand to pursue relentlessly.
With Qi Control Axe Art.
Tian Ailang evaded the chasing New Moon, treading air like solid earth.
“Yo ho ho, delightful! Echoes Wudang Sect's Plum Blossom Step and Shaolin's Four Taels Shift Thousand Catties, or Kunlun's Cloud Dragon Great Eight Forms... No secret arts stolen, so pure instinct... Yo ho ho ho!”
Tian Ailang reeled, mind in chaos. Sidestep New Moon's wild angles, and Full Moon loomed; evade the giant and counterattack, New Moon pierced the gap.
Witnessing Paeng Pung-gyeol defend solely through offense, Tian Ailang marveled. Attack truly the finest shield.
Dodging alone changes nothing.
Afar, clashing auras raged—Chanho and Song Sogeol berserk. His prolonged delay scrapped the hit-and-fade; now even Song Sogeol strained alongside Chanho.
If brothers fell through his fault, the guilt would crush him. No more losing the precious.
Tian Ailang's urgency spiked. Body in ceaseless motion, he honed focus. Qi gales nicked perilously close—still, pure concentration.
Focused. Focused deeper. Senses sharpened keener.
Clothes rent by qi blasts, wounds piling—focus held. Eye vessels burst.
Focused harder. Heaven's qi, earth's qi swelled vivid. Sense radius bloomed.
Expanding grasp mapped the camp like bird's-eye—overlook from skies.
Chanho registered in senses. Felt as seen.
Saw Chanho's swift sword felling troops. Farther, a throng approached. Foe or friend? Unknown—but numerous, urgency redoubled.
Tian Ailang's eyes bloodshot, vessels ruptured crimson.
Undeterred. Dodged Full Moon, New Moon—senses locked tight.
The group closed at blistering speed. Among them, a monstrous master. It sensed Tian Ailang and Paeng Pung-gyeol too—like locked gazes.
Desperation clawed. Tian Ailang collapsed his vast senses. Fifty zhang, thirty, ten, five... to two zhang—six meters.
Like force-feeding boundless awareness into a pinpoint. Yet within that cramped sphere, everything registered.
No need for eyes, no deliberate watch—Full Moon, New Moon trajectories clear. Paeng Pung-gyeol's intent pulsed tangible. Predicted: New Moon's path, Full Moon's swing.
“Kruk...!”
Deeper focus, vaster overload wracked his frame. Upper dantian screamed near-burst.
Equivalent exchange? Godlike sense crushed the flesh.
Mind fogged toward blackout—endless natural qi circulation barely anchored sanity.
Whiiiiiik————! New Moon whirled behind, qi-fueled frenzy.
Sensed naturally. Absolute dominion over the two-zhang realm.
This—the Qi Arts fifth stage's absolute perceptual domain, as Grandfather described.
Tian Ailang spun rearward, hand outstretched to New Moon.
To onlookers, he seemed begging for self-amputation.