Chapter 46: Severed Meridian (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 46: Severed Meridian (5)
The young swordsman and the noble youth stood facing each other.
It was an awkward distance—too close for a swordsman, yet too far for a pugilist. The opening exchange of the duel would be decided by whoever could first secure their optimal range.
Shifting his weight back and forth, the Second Young Master asked, “Do you need me to yield the first move?”
“There’s no need.”
“Then I shall go first.”
Boom!
Executing an Earth-Trembling Stomp, the Second Young Master lunged forward, his fist aiming straight for Namgung Jun’s nose. The power packed into the blow was so immense that a fierce wind whipped against Namgung Jun’s face.
Yet, Namgung Jun showed no intention of dodging. He merely swung his sword upward, seemingly a beat too late.
This will be easier than I thought.
Just as the corners of the Second Young Master’s mouth began to curl into a smirk at the underwhelming reaction, a flash of blue light surged from his left.
A sword strike, twisting and arcing like a bolt of lightning, shot up toward his armpit.
How?
By all rights, Namgung Jun’s strike should have been late. Even accounting for the reach of his blade, this was impossibly fast. The sword strike accelerated continuously, reaching an incredible velocity. The Second Young Master couldn’t even begin to fathom the profound principles behind such a technique.
Slash!
With the hairs on his body standing on end, the Second Young Master twisted sharply to the side, barely evading the blade. The hem of his uniform tore by a hair’s breadth. A moment later, and his entire arm would have been severed.
Landing after a spin in midair, the Second Young Master’s face was a contorted mask.
“You crazy bastard.”
Panting heavily, he realized that he wasn’t the one who had been trying to snatch victory in a single blow—it was the young swordsman.
Namgung Jun glanced at the scrap of cloth that fluttered to the ground and let his sword hang loosely.
“Not bad. Your senses are well-honed.”
He evaluated his opponent with the leisurely air of a superior master. The Second Young Master found it absurd, but his vigilance spiked. The single move Namgung Jun had just displayed was simply that impressive, that powerful.
Did I miscalculate?
He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. Judging solely by the aura he could sense, the boy was definitely weaker than him. Perhaps innate talent had allowed him to execute such a slash, but the Jianghu was not a place where one could survive on talent alone.
In the Jianghu, brilliant talents were as numerous as the stars, but most were quietly swallowed by the darkness of the night sky, vanishing without a trace.
Would the boy before him be any different?
A raspy voice scraped from the Second Young Master’s throat. “I am not someone who will fall to the likes of you.”
He had survived the brutal succession struggle of the Martial Strike Sect. He had absolutely no intention of letting this chance for a comeback slip away.
Whoosh!
The Second Young Master channeled his internal energy to its absolute limit. With that, the true martial arts of the Martial Strike Sect began to manifest.
The Martial Strike Sect possessed techniques that focused heavily on close-quarters combat. The gossips of the Jianghu often said that if the fists of the Shaolin Temple were fierce and majestic, the fists of the Martial Strike Sect were wild, rapid, and swift. At a glance, their pursuits of strength seemed similar, but their textures were entirely different.
If the Shaolin Temple’s fists were a grand, winding river, the Martial Strike Sect’s were a raging torrent crashing down in a torrential downpour.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
The Second Young Master perfectly demonstrated the characteristics of his sect’s fist techniques. His muscles swelled as he unleashed a barrage of strikes. Fourteen consecutive punches shot out, hammering toward Namgung Jun’s vital points.
However, his knuckles could not reach their target. The sword, standing tall in the center like a pillar of heaven, blocked every single one.
His sword path should have wavered by now…
The Second Young Master couldn’t hide his awe at the heavy, rebounding force that traveled up his arms. Any ordinary swordsman would have struggled just to block the assault, and it wouldn’t have been strange for the blade to shatter under his fists at any moment.
Yet, Namgung Jun went beyond merely blocking; he launched chilling counterattacks from the front, a display of threatening Sword Force and exquisite technique.
“I need to knock that sword away first.”
Closing the distance once more, the Second Young Master’s hands and feet repeatedly struck the blue-hued blade. The sword trembled slightly under the continuous clashes, but Namgung Jun’s stance remained rock-solid.
The Second Young Master kicked upward, aiming for the hand holding the sword. Namgung Jun simply twisted his wrist, blocking the kick with the pommel of his hilt.
Clang!
As a muffled metallic ring erupted, the Second Young Master’s body tilted sideways in midair. He unleashed his kicking techniques once again, a succession of whip-like, blurring kicks. He then landed with an Earth-Trembling Stomp and thrust his fist toward Namgung Jun’s flank.
The moment his knuckles collided with the blade, the Second Young Master’s hand opened, and he snatched the sword’s flat. It was a type of Grappling Hand. At the same time, he formed a Hand Blade with his left hand, intending to snap the weapon in two.
“In your dreams.”
Namgung Jun was not one to stand by and watch. He shifted his right foot half a step to the side and choked up his grip on the hilt. Just as the Second Young Master reached out to grab the seemingly retreating sword, Namgung Jun’s bent arm sprang forward. The sword tip, which had drawn back as if shrinking, shot out with a sharp whoosh.
Squelch!
In an instant, the sword pierced straight through the Second Young Master’s palm.
“Argh!”
A burning pain flared through his hand, but the Second Young Master did not falter. Instead, he tried to use the opening to strike Namgung Jun, not hesitating to trade his own flesh for a telling blow. But such tactics were useless.
Namgung Jun thrust his sword deeper, forcing the Second Young Master to hesitate. He refused to yield an inch of momentum, his calm, sharp eyes watching his opponent from beginning to end.
“Krah!”
Letting out a bizarre cry—part scream, part battle yell—the Second Young Master lunged at Namgung Jun. It would be disastrous if the distance widened. He had to close the gap at any cost to have a chance.
At close range, fists and sword clashed in a dizzying blur. It was a fierce collision where neither side yielded. Amidst the showering sparks, drops of blood pattered to the ground.
The blood belonged to the Second Young Master, whose arms and legs were now accumulating wounds. In contrast, not a single thread of Namgung Jun’s clothing was torn.
Namgung Jun didn’t back away to widen the distance. Shifting his grip, he fully displayed his capabilities even within a pugilist’s range. He was not bound by distance.
He pressed down with his hilt to deflect a fist, then bent his elbow to bring the blade sweeping inward. Faced with such irregular, relentless thrusts, the Second Young Master hastily arched his back. Had he not, another hole would have been pierced through his body.
This bastard. It’s as if an old master is residing inside him!
The Second Young Master was bewildered by how skillfully Namgung Jun handled his sword, even at a range that should have favored a fist-fighter. Was this kind of swordplay also mere talent? No, it wasn’t. It felt less like talent and more like the seasoned experience of a veteran master.
Yet, the one before him was just a boy. How could he display such swordsmanship? Such instantaneous, flashing movements weren’t something that could be learned; they belonged to a realm that required years of experience.
I’m the one who should be controlling the distance.
The more punches and kicks the Second Young Master threw, the more helpless he felt. No matter what attack he unleashed, the boy before him showed no signs of being endangered. Even when he used a rough, violent style more suited to unorthodox thugs than a member of the Righteous Faction, the boy countered without a hint of panic.
“Let’s end this!”
The Second Young Master realized he had no hope of winning if he dragged the duel out any longer. Without hesitation, he unleashed his ultimate technique. Dozens of fist shadows bloomed from his hands, spinning fiercely as they swept toward Namgung Jun’s flank.
The Martial Strike Sect. I have a rough idea of which branch of martial arts you focused on.
Namgung Jun’s eyes grew infinitely deep. He read and deciphered the flow of the ultimate technique. The sword, raised in the center, slashed horizontally with immense fury—a strike that precisely penetrated the flow of the fist technique. His sword moved again, scraping and tearing through the attack.
Under the relentless swordplay, the Second Young Master’s ultimate technique rapidly lost its power.
Clang!
Deflecting the final straight punch aimed at his solar plexus, Namgung Jun spun his body, fully absorbing and redirecting the rebounding force into his blade.
His sword swung directly toward the Second Young Master’s neck.
“Second Young Master!”
Thwack!
The middle-aged man, who had been about to rush forward in a panic, froze at the sound. If the blade had cut into flesh, it wouldn't have sounded like that. Only then did the martial artists of the Martial Strike Sect realize that Namgung Jun had struck not with the edge, but with the spine of his blade.
However, that didn’t mean the impact was light. The Second Young Master collapsed, clutching his neck.
Namgung Jun looked down at him with haughty eyes. “Be grateful that this was a duel to settle the matter.”
“Ha!” The Second Young Master stared at Namgung Jun in disbelief, then muttered, “I was trying to secure the Red Cloud Fire Ginseng to lay the foundation for my comeback, but it’s all ruined now.”
“Still, you gained something.”
“Gained? What on earth did I gain?”
“For starters, you survived,” Namgung Jun said calmly as he sheathed his sword.
The Second Young Master was left speechless.
*
The Second Young Master’s miserable defeat cast a chilly air over the ferry dock. The martial artists of the Martial Strike Sect looked ready to pounce the moment an order was given.
“Second Young Master.”
Despite his subordinate’s call, the Second Young Master shook his head. “Forget it. We’ll all end up dead at this rate.”
“Mmh.”
“Just open the way. I have no desire to become fish food.”
The Second Young Master had realized it. Even if they managed to tie down the Black Cloud Wandering Maiden, another monster would still remain. There had been no chance of winning from the very beginning.
“A wise choice.”
The gloomy voice belonged to neither Namgung Jun’s group nor the Second Young Master’s men. It drifted from the shadows beneath the roof of a nearby pavilion.
A man in black emerged as if he were a part of the shadow itself. Upon seeing him, the eyes of both the Martial Strike Sect members and the Tang siblings widened. He was literally clinging upside down to the underside of the roof like a bat, moving through its shadow.
“Nether-Fathoming Hall Master!”
“Is that the Inverted Bat Traverse of the Nether-Fathoming Hall?!”
The man in black, the Nether-Fathoming Hall Master, looked down at them while still hanging from the edge of the roof. Thick, viscous killing intent dripped from his bloodshot eyes.
“Nether-Fathoming Hall.”
At the Hall Master’s call, assassins who had been hiding upside down in various shadows around the dock revealed themselves.
“Oh no!”
“When did they surround us?”
The martial artists of the Martial Strike Sect panicked. Although only fifteen or so assassins had shown themselves, there was no telling how many more were still hiding.
Shring!
The moment they appeared, the assassins drew the twin swords at their waists. They were an awkward length—too short to be called longswords, yet too long to be daggers. But held in both hands, they became menacing weapons that could easily disrupt an opponent’s sense of distance.
“Heavenly Sword. I thought this was an urgent matter,” the Hall Master said, his voice directed toward Lee Se-ha.
“You were on your way for a mission anyway, weren't you?” she replied.
“Should I kill them?” the Hall Master asked, his arms crossed as he hung upside down.
“Let them go. That’s not what I called the Nether-Fathoming Hall for.”
“Why?”
“Jun proposed a duel to settle the matter with the Second Young Master, and he won an overwhelming victory.”
“A duel to settle the matter.” The Nether-Fathoming Hall Master’s bloodshot eyes turned toward Namgung Jun. When Namgung Jun clasped his hands in a respectful greeting, the Hall Master responded with a slow blink before shifting his gaze to the Second Young Master.
“Go. If you are still within my sensory range after ten breaths, I will hunt you down.”
The situation had already been overwhelming with just Lee Se-ha and Namgung Jun. Now that another supreme expert had joined, any chance of victory had completely vanished.
“We withdraw. Quickly!”
As the Second Young Master issued orders, Namgung Jun’s voice pierced his back. “I hope you keep your promise.”
His words carried multiple meanings: a request to leave the Tang siblings alone and a warning of retribution should he break his word. Feeling a cold chill at the sheer determination in the boy’s voice, the Second Young Master shook his head.
“No matter how unorthodox I may be, I still value my honor. I will keep my promise.”
“I’ll trust you.”
As he was retreating, the Second Young Master suddenly turned his head. “Do you realize what you’ve done? You’ve made an enemy of our sect just to save the insignificant Tang siblings of Sichuan. It will only hinder your future. Do you not regret it?”
“If I cared about external pressure, I wouldn’t have stood against the Sun-Moon Demonic Cult in the first place.”
At his resolute tone, the Second Young Master simply shook his head and withdrew.
“A complete defeat… The Azure Star Sword, the Azure Star Sword…”
His muttering drifted away, scattering across the gently flowing ripples.
And so, the boat carrying Namgung Jun’s group began to glide smoothly away, riding the quickening current.