Chapter 113
Chapter 113
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: The Truth (2)
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‘Must I really cut him down?’
Ouyang Jue lightly bit his lip.
To be honest, Jeok Sang was an unpleasant opponent to face.
More than anything, it was tragic.
That a veteran master who survived the war against the old Demonic Cult had been so wretchedly transformed was bad enough, but there was no way to save him.
‘I could show mercy and spare his life, or perhaps inform others and leave his fate to them, but…’
Would that truly be a fitting end for the Mount Tai Sword Gate?
Ouyang Jue pondered for a moment.
The brilliant past of the Mount Tai Sword Gate had faded, and its current state—nothing but ashes—would become a tale told throughout the martial world.
‘Moreover, this Jeok Sang here…’
Ouyang Jue's sword tip wavered with conflict. In that opening, the sharp blade swung by Jeok Sang flashed.
*Clang!*
The air was displaced, and he felt his body momentarily lift. Ouyang Jue realized that Jeok Sang's physique had also returned to that of his prime.
Physical prowess honed by decades of swordsmanship.
‘He'll be tough to handle.’
Thinking so, Ouyang Jue shook his head, trying to cast off his worries.
It was an uncharacteristic thought.
As long as his opponent wielded demonic energy and was connected to the Eight Evils, he was an enemy that had to be faced.
Even if Jeok Sang was a warrior worthy of respect.
Ouyang Jue's sword, which had been on the defensive, was immediately raised.
It was a truly exquisite moment, and Jeok Sang's eyes wavered for an instant.
“...!”
But the moment was fleeting.
Not only was there the power granted by the Asura Demonic Scripture, but the sword arts Jeok Sang had originally mastered were not so simple as to be easily broken.
In terms of sheer accumulated experience, he was far superior to Ouyang Jue.
Just this much.
The corners of Jeok Sang's mouth twisted into a sneer.
“You brat! Trying such a cheap trick!”
The sword art the Mount Tai Sword Gate prided itself on, the Seven Forms of the Great Sword, unfolded in Jeok Sang's grasp.
But Ouyang Jue could not yet tell what was coming.
An unfamiliar sword art, a strange figure.
He was an opponent unfriendly in every way.
Ouyang Jue's eyes narrowed. He had no choice but to adapt as quickly as possible and fight through it.
*Ruuuumble...!*
From Jeok Sang's sword path, Ouyang Jue sensed the distinct smell of the sea, characteristic of a man from Jiangdong.
It was heavy and cold enough to make one shudder.
*Grit.*
Ouyang Jue gritted his teeth and endured the immense pressure.
The Purple Mist True Energy, as always, brought him stability even in situations where his knees felt like they would buckle.
So, what choice was there but to trust in the martial arts he had learned and unleash everything he had with all his might?
*Whoosh!*
Severing Manifestation drew a fluid arc as it countered the Seven Forms of the Great Sword.
The foundation was still the Plum Blossom Sword Arts, but it was now supplemented with the principles of the Heavenly Escape Sword Arts he had grasped after his fight with the Black Dragon.
A single misstep could have turned it into a mongrel sword style, neither one thing nor the other, but these were the sword arts of his distant ancestor, Lü Dongbin, and a later scholar, Hao Datong.
In short, their roots were the same.
‘But is it alright to unleash it as it is?’
Seeing the sword energy radiating from Jeok Sang's blade, Ouyang Jue's expression hardened.
The pressure of having to use a teaching he had not yet fully mastered weighed down on his movements.
Somehow, after his encounter with the Black Dragon, it felt as though all his plans had gone awry. His confidence from knowing everything about the future had now faded.
‘Perhaps I'll face many failures from now on. I'm no longer certain I can avoid making mistakes.’
Just like right now.
On a journey to uncover the past of an incident from twenty years ago, he had met a new enemy.
A powerful foe he hadn't even known in his past life, no less.
Moreover, he was a man with deep ties to Mount Hua's past, which made killing him outright even more distasteful.
‘But am I going to stop for such a baseless fear?’
Ouyang Jue shook his heavy ankles as if to cast off the weight. Instead, he looked at the approaching Jeok Sang.
“Hoo.”
In a brief moment, Ouyang Jue took a sharp breath. At the same time, he took a half-step forward with the speed of lightning.
“Plum Blossoms, Spreading.”
The plum blossoms spread, and spread.
The flurry of strikes blooming from the tip of Severing Manifestation disrupted the forms drawn by the Seven Forms of the Great Sword.
Whenever Jeok Sang's stance faltered slightly, Ouyang Jue would immediately swing his right elbow and strike him in the solar plexus.
*Thwack!*
It was a move adapted from the White Crane Palm, originally a fist and palm technique, into an elbow strike.
To that, he added the Penetrating Force, a skill typically seen only in the internal fist arts of Shaolin.
It was a masterful elbow technique that would be difficult for anyone but Ouyang Jue, who had learned countless martial arts while living as a wanderer, to even attempt.
“...Keuk!”
No matter how much he fortified his body with demonic energy and numbed the pain, how could he endure a shock that pierced his entire being?
Jeok Sang unknowingly opened his mouth wide and spat out dark red blood. Clots mixed in the bloody fluid gave off a foul stench.
But Ouyang Jue's assault was not yet over. Jeok Sang, too, had raised his sword again to fight back.
“Plum Blossoms in Full Bloom.”
The flurry of strikes drawn by Severing Manifestation gradually grew in scale. The blade, which had been striking point after point, was now drawing lines, becoming more brilliant.
Dozens of steel lines converged on Jeok Sang.
It was a single move that would daze any martial artist who faced it.
The sharpness contained within Severing Manifestation was beyond imagination, enough to create a storm of blood with the slightest touch.
It was as if the taut strings of a seven-stringed zither were flying at him.
But Jeok Sang remained composed, as if confident he could cut through the spectacle bearing down on him.
Soon, a potent internal energy mingled with demonic energy seeped into his sword's tip.
“Lone Soul, Single Sword!”
*Slice!*
A great guillotine that severed the dozens of lines.
Watching this, Ouyang Jue took a step back, his body trembling slightly.
He felt a sense of relief, as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
The Iron Blood Sword, a warrior who fought in the war against the old Demonic Cult, would never have unleashed a killing move using demonic energy on the grounds of the Mount Tai Sword Gate.
Only then did Ouyang Jue begin to see Jeok Sang differently.
Freed from his conflict, Ouyang Jue's sword became more precise and sharp. The wavering in his eyes as he watched Jeok Sang's movements also vanished.
Jeok Sang's body, on the other hand, was gradually breaking down.
“Grrr...!”
Jeok Sang had already been training an internal art incompatible with demonic energy. The sword arts of the Mount Tai Sword Gate were also far removed from demonic techniques.
It wasn't for nothing that he had fought on the front lines in the war against the Demonic Cult twenty years ago.
Whenever Jeok Sang exploited one of his openings, Ouyang Jue felt an indescribable surprise.
His straightforwardness, which followed no particular Dao, possessed a profound subtlety, simple like a valley stream crashing down from above.
In terms of clarity alone, it was far superior to that of Mount Hua or Wudang.
Because of this, even the Buddhist energy from the Diamond Fist-Seal Armor faltered, unable to fully exhibit its evil-dispelling properties.
If, by some chance, Jeok Sang had been in his right mind while wielding demonic energy... it would have been truly terrifying.
A demon of a man, one who would be spoken of throughout the history of the martial world, would have been born.
Ouyang Jue did not let his guard down for an instant, slowly cornering Jeok Sang.
He never even considered that he could win in a single breath.
‘I have no choice but to stall until his body can no longer handle the Asura Demonic Scripture.’
Ouyang Jue's attacks gradually became looser, yet more structured.
And so, after more than two hundred exchanges,
Jeok Sang's muscles and bones began to twist.
“You baaastard!”
Watching Jeok Sang charge at him, shedding tears of blood, Ouyang Jue felt a flicker of curiosity.
Who on earth did Jeok Sang see him as, to display such madness and killing intent?
The old Demonic Cult, the Martial Alliance, Nangong Cheon, the Hebei Peng Clan... or perhaps the Eight Evils or the Zhenzhou Yan Clan.
Many suspicious candidates swam through his mind. But he couldn't be certain of anything yet.
Perhaps another power had used Jeok Sang to create this very misunderstanding.
Nangong Cheon, in particular, was a clear suspect, but touching him carelessly would result in severe backlash.
‘If their goal is to use one enemy to control another... I'll just be playing into their hands.’
Realizing he needed to approach this carefully, Ouyang Jue cleared his thoughts.
There was a limit to what he could figure out by mulling it over alone. This was a matter that required gathering small clues and putting his head together with someone trustworthy, like Cheol Pung-gae.
“I'll kill you!”
At that voice, Ouyang Jue quietly raised his head.
Cracks had spread across Jeok Sang's entire body to an indescribable degree.
Not only had he been constantly exposed to demonic energy, but this fight had pushed him to his limit.
Ouyang Jue's wrist trembled slightly.
He wasn't the type to get sentimental or sorrowful over such things, but he was human, too.
Just like with the fool he met in Chang'an, he was the kind of person who could feel pity and remorse.
Just as Ouyang Jue once again steeled his resolve and prepared his ultimate strike,
“...Ugh.”
Jeok Sang collapsed where he stood and rolled onto the ground.
Even so, he tried to drag himself toward Ouyang Jue, scratching at the ground with his fingernails.
Of course, his hands were not unscathed. His nails were torn off, and blood flowed. Ugly stains spread across his already cracked body.
“Mount Tai... Sword Gate... is.”
“...”
“I... just wanted... to...”
The color of the bloody tears Jeok Sang had been shedding lightened slightly. A single teardrop fell onto a new sprout of grass that had begun to grow with the arrival of spring.
Ouyang Jue relaxed his tightly clenched fist.
In this state, he couldn't fight. The demonic energy had invaded him to the bone; he could no longer maintain his sanity, and his twisted body would find it difficult to even perform martial arts.
All that was left was to end his pain.
Ouyang Jue, with Severing Manifestation held loosely, struck the back of Jeok Sang's neck.
*Clang!*
For a moment, the demonic energy of the Asura Demonic Scripture blocked Severing Manifestation.
It was just like a demonic art to force its user to fight by drawing out even their innate true energy, regardless of whether they lived or died.
Ouyang Jue let out a deep sigh.
“I have no choice.”
He had wanted to end it with as few wounds as possible, to at least leave the corpse intact, but he had no choice but to use a powerful technique.
As Ouyang Jue infused seventy percent of his internal energy into Severing Manifestation, Jeok Sang's lips parted weakly.
“A... favor.”
“...?”
“Could... you do me... just one... favor...?”
At those words, Ouyang Jue stopped his downward strike and brought his ear closer to Jeok Sang.
‘Has he come to his senses?’
“When you go down... if you... meet... someone who has learned the sword arts of the Mount Tai Sword Gate... please... accept them... into the Mount Hua Sect.... I beg you....”
One word, then another.
Jeok Sang spoke in short, broken breaths, but his eyes were clearer than ever, filled with a desire for life.
But Jeok Sang himself knew.
That his body could no longer live, and that it shouldn't.
Only now, at the brink of death, did he realize what he had done.
If he had any regrets left, they were atonement and his remorse for the Mount Tai Sword Gate.
The former was something he could no longer do, something he was too ashamed to even face, but the latter was different.
But soon, Jeok Sang realized that even the latter was a selfish wish and laughed weakly.
“...Heh, heheh...”
How could he ask another to do what he himself failed to accomplish in life? Wasn't that foolish and despicable?
Jeok Sang's last words were short and simple.
“I'm sorry....”
Whether it was to Ouyang Jue, to the warriors he had killed, or to his own sect, the Mount Tai Sword Gate.
Jeok Sang attached no name to his apology before breathing his last.
Then, a secret manual slipped out from within his robes.
The Seven Forms of the Great Sword, the Lone Soul, Single Sword, and even the Light-Treading, Thunder-Splitting Sword he had completed in his later years.
All of them were sword arts and martial studies meant for the disciples of the Mount Tai Sword Gate.
*Ssk.*
Picking up the manual, Ouyang Jue bowed twice as a sign of mourning.
Hoping his respects would also reach the legendary spirit said to reside on Mount Tai, he added one more bow.
“If fate allows, and if the situation permits, I will surely honor your wish.”
It was just before sunset when Ouyang Jue was finally able to build a burial mound for Jeok Sang.