Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: Nine Dragons Tournament (2)
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* * *
“Yaaawn…”
Ouyang Jue’s mouth opened wide.
It had been two hours since the Nine Dragons Tournament began.
A total of thirty-four matches had been held, and just as many young warriors had crossed blades.
A contest between the rising stars, bearing the honor of their sects!
A place where young blood clashed to determine who was superior!
Even now, a match was in full swing on one of the stages.
“Haaap!”
“Witness the essence of the Heavenly Peak Sword!”
Clang, clatter!
Sparks flew as gauntlets and a sword collided, and the swordsman charged fiercely as if to swallow them whole.
Thud, thwack!
A flurry of fist-and-foot techniques pushed them apart, resulting in a standoff.
They exhaled, catching their breath for a moment, and gathered their focus to prepare for the next blow.
The martial artists watching from the side were also extremely serious.
They knew that one day, these fighters could be their opponents.
They scrutinized them more meticulously than anyone, searching for any possible weak points.
Those who fought, and those who watched.
Neither side wasted a moment, each hoping to become the victor of the Nine Dragons Tournament.
However, there was only one person.
Only Ouyang Jue harbored different feelings.
*Good grief, that's not how you're supposed to swing a sword!*
He steadfastly endured the urge to critique every single move.
*Is this how a foreman feels watching a laborer carry a load awkwardly?* Annoyance welled up inside Ouyang Jue.
*This makes me feel like a complete old man.*
Twaaang!
Watching the sword bend like taffy for a moment against the gauntlet, Ouyang Jue cursed the swordsman inwardly.
*You idiot, you call that a defensive form?*
If anyone were to hear his inner thoughts, they would have berated him for being so critical when he was a rising star himself.
But that statement would be half right and half wrong.
The rising stars here were, at best, at the very entry level of the first-rate. A stage where they could only 'coat' their blades with sword ki thanks to elixirs.
And Ouyang Jue now?
His body and internal energy were lacking, but the enlightenment he carried from his past life was enough to border on the absolute realm.
To such an Ouyang Jue, how would their martial arts appear?
The sigh that escaped Ouyang Jue’s lips was particularly heavy.
*I'd rather watch dancers perform a sword dance. Ugh. What is that?*
Just then, the Wudang Daoist on the stage shouted loudly.
“Disciple of the Mount Hua Sect, Ouyang Jue, please come up to the stage!”
“Yes, yes.”
No one had challenged him until now. He wondered which rising star it could be.
*I hope it's someone who's actually learned martial arts properly, not just relied on elixirs.*
Ouyang Jue cleaned his ear with one hand as he stepped onto the stage.
A faint smile touched Ouyang Jue's lips as he saw the man who followed him up.
“I was wondering who it was. Fellow Daoist?”
“…”
At those words, Yang Ji-hyeon, a rising star of the Kongtong Sect, bit his lip hard.
*I'll pay you back for the humiliation I just suffered!*
However, he didn't know.
Having arrived late to the stage, he had no way of knowing why Ouyang Jue hadn't been challenged yet.
At the same time, it was an opportunity for others.
“Is Ouyang Jue finally being challenged?”
“By whom?”
“Yang Ji-hyeon of the Kongtong Sect… isn't this his first Nine Dragons Tournament?”
Though there were nearly ten stages, the attention focused on this one was hotter than all the others combined.
Suddenly the center of attention, Yang Ji-hyeon looked back at Ouyang Jue with a slightly flustered expression.
“Did something happen with you?”
“Nothing in particular.”
“R-right? I must be mistaken…”
Ouyang Jue smiled brightly and replied.
“I only twisted the legs of ten people.”
*He must be joking, right?*
One of Yang Ji-hyeon’s cheeks twitched. But the atmosphere around them was too serious for it to be a lie.
He even heard voices in his ear.
“Seeing him today, the rumor that he defeated the Three Evils of Shaanxi doesn't seem to be an empty one.”
“…You think the Kongtong Sect will lose, don't you?”
They were already tentatively predicting Yang Ji-hyeon’s defeat.
Some even considered him a sacrificial pawn.
“I hope we get a chance to see Ouyang Jue’s sword arts.”
Such a remark might seem opportunistic, but considering the Nine Dragons Tournament was both an inter-sect exchange and a competition, it wasn't a poor judgment.
Whether they were Daoists learning the Way or Buddhist monks from Shaolin, once they learned martial arts, they were all hungry for victory.
*I feel like I've become a complete spectacle.*
As a bitter smile formed on Yang Ji-hyeon’s face, Ouyang Jue shrugged his shoulders.
“Are you going to stand there all day?”
He was wide open.
That was the first thought that came to Yang Ji-hyeon’s mind when he looked at Ouyang Jue.
Not only his stance, but the fingers holding his sword were so loose that even a child could snatch it away.
“Now’s my chance.”
Yang Ji-hyeon muttered to himself without realizing it.
Right, why was he getting scared of an opponent he hadn't even properly fought?
This was unbecoming of a disciple of the Kongtong Sect.
Yang Ji-hyeon’s gaze deepened, and the breath he drew in passed through his throat, cooling his racing heart.
Soon, a small knot of energy condensed over his fist.
Its color was a deep blue, and its shape resembled a tiger's claw.
Ouyang Jue recognized what Yang Ji-hyeon was about to unleash.
*The Seven Injuries Fist.*
The fist art known as one of the two great techniques of the Kongtong Sect, alongside the Demon Subduing Sword Arts.
It is also called the beginning and the end of internal heavy fist arts.
As such, the principles of the Seven Injuries Fist were exceptionally simple, but mastering it was difficult.
To attempt the Seven Injuries Fist meant he had a certain degree of confidence.
Ouyang Jue’s entire body tensed.
“Now, let’s begin.”
Ouyang Jue no longer saw Yang Ji-hyeon as someone to be teased.
Here, where sword and gauntlet met, they were enemies.
This unwelcome sense of gravity.
It wasn't bad.
A pleasant smile graced Ouyang Jue’s face.
“Shall I go first? Or will you, Fellow Daoist?”
At those words, Yang Ji-hyeon knew instinctively.
He sensed that this would be his last chance to take the initiative.
At the same time, a sense of humiliation arose.
*Who the hell does this bastard think he is!*
Yang Ji-hyeon restrained the urge to shout such a thing. This was still an open match with many eyes watching.
When the numbers dwindled, and only about ten remained.
Then, he would formally request a one-on-one duel.
Yang Ji-hyeon’s roar filled the grounds of the Nine Dragons Tournament.
“I gratefully accept your offer!”
“Please be gentle.”
Though he said that, Ouyang Jue hoped his opponent would press forward with even more force.
Boredom and tedium were not to his taste.
Pow!
The Seven Injuries Fist, imbued with all of Yang Ji-hyeon’s strength, exploded against the flat of the sword.
Screech.
Ouyang Jue deflected the attack with ease, but he couldn't stop his heel from sliding back.
Seeing Yang Ji-hyeon’s veins bulge, Ouyang Jue smirked.
*He’s really putting his back into it.*
This, too, must be another struggle for Yang Ji-hyeon.
Of course, he had no intention of losing.
Ouyang Jue clenched his jaw and channeled the Purple Mist True Ki into his sword.
Sssshhh…
The violet Purple Mist True Ki flowed faintly over the surface of the blade.
The Purple Mist True Ki didn't just flow; it formed a new edge over the blade.
“…!”
“Heavens.”
Adept Hyun Geom and the elders of the Wudang Sect, who had been watching quietly, shot to their feet.
But the clash between Yang Ji-hyeon and Ouyang Jue was not yet over.
Paang!
Yang Ji-hyeon was engulfed in the sensation of his body being thrown backward.
He had seen it, too, for just a moment.
The sword ki formed from the Purple Mist True Ki.
The Seven Injuries Fist that struck it lost its power. In fact, it was pushed back with a rebounding force against its user.
A lump of blood rose from his chest and caught in his throat.
*He tried to end it quickly with the Seven Injuries Fist, but it was turned back with a rebounding force.*
That meant the sword ki wasn't just formed on the surface, but was intricately woven all the way through.
*His level… is completely different!*
Crack!
Yang Ji-hyeon’s canine ground hard against his lower teeth. The sound scattered his negative thoughts.
He had to stop his body from being pushed back.
Without a moment's hesitation, Yang Ji-hyeon gathered his five fingers like a short spear and slammed them into the stage floor.
Crunch!
His fingernails bent back in an instant, and the skin tore, making his vision flash.
For Yang Ji-hyeon, who had just established himself as a rising star, pain was still a challenge to be overcome.
But Ouyang Jue was still in front of him.
He was looking down at him with an expression of interest.
That gave Yang Ji-hyeon strength.
“Keok, ptui.”
He spat out the blood clot from his internal injury.
That didn't improve the situation. In fact, his internal injuries were worsening at an even faster rate.
In a normal friendly match, it should have ended here.
But…
*I want to fight him more.*
Although Yang Ji-hyeon was merely a rising star, he knew this one thing for certain.
An opportunity like this didn't come easily.
A martial artist who could draw out such mature sword ki at a younger age than him would soon reach a much higher realm.
When that time came, he wouldn't even have the chance to be in the same space, let alone spar with him.
If not now, when would he ever get a chance to face him!
Jjeoong!
Using his arm planted in the floor as a pivot, Yang Ji-hyeon swung his right foot out sharply.
A soft whistle escaped Ouyang Jue’s lips.
*Fist-and-foot techniques from that position? His body is unusually flexible for a man.*
But he was not an opponent who would be easily taken down.
Pak, tudak!
Ouyang Jue bent his ankle and kicked Yang Ji-hyeon’s right foot away.
Of course, Yang Ji-hyeon didn't just stand there either.
“Hyaaaap!”
Yang Ji-hyeon charged recklessly at Ouyang Jue on the cracked and splintered stage.
Despite being injured with every clash, he did not retreat.
Five seconds, ten seconds, twenty seconds.
With each exchange of blows, a cut was left on the gauntlets Yang Ji-hyeon wore.
Then, around the time the metal parts were completely shattered.
Step, shing.
Ouyang Jue took a step back on his own and sheathed his sword.
Then he asked Yang Ji-hyeon.
“Is that enough?”
“Keoheok, keuk.”
Yang Ji-hyeon scraped together the air from the corners of his lungs and answered with great difficulty.
It was an effort just to push his fallen body up.
“…I am satisfied.”
“Fellow Daoist Yang, may I ask for your Daoist name?”
“Myeongun, Master of the Dark Clouds.”
At those words, Ouyang Jue nodded as if in understanding.
*I guess I wouldn't have known just from his secular name.*
He had thought his fighting spirit was too great for a rising star who was just beginning to make a name for himself.
*So he was the Fist King.*
Ouyang Jue looked at Yang Ji-hyeon with new eyes, as if seeing a treasure.
If he built a connection with him now, he could become a powerful ally.
And for good reason. The future Yang Ji-hyeon was a master who was undefeated in one-on-one combat.
Even when he was blinded by the Tang Clan's schemes, he did not despair.
Instead, he famously used it as a stepping stone to become even stronger.
That was why Ouyang Jue had also considered the Fist King a respectable martial artist.
But now…
*He's a total greenhorn, isn't he?*
Coming up to him just because he was interested and saying he wanted to be friends.
Moreover, a moment ago, Yang Ji-hyeon had been on the verge of a fatal injury.
If Ouyang Jue hadn't backed off first, he would have had to recuperate for at least half a year due to deep internal injuries.
And yet, Ouyang Jue couldn't just blame him.
“My match with you, Fellow Daoist, has been the most enjoyable I've had in a while.”
“…Hmph, is that a compliment?”
Ouyang Jue didn't answer but helped Yang Ji-hyeon to his feet.
“…”
For a moment, a silence fell over the Nine Dragons Tournament.
The match was over, but a residual respect for Ouyang Jue and Yang Ji-hyeon seemed to linger.
It was then.
—Let's speak privately for a moment.
Adept Hyun Geom called Ouyang Jue over.
* * *
“In all the thirty years I've watched the Nine Dragons Tournament, I've never seen a rising star like you.”
Being praised by an old, strict, and serious Daoist master like Adept Hyun Geom, Ouyang Jue felt awkward and changed the subject.
“Then how many times have you experienced it so far?”
“Once every five years. Six times in total.”
“…It seems this is a much bigger competition than I thought.”
“Did you not hear about it at Mount Hua?”
Adept Hyun Geom let out a brief, incredulous laugh.
“The Nine Dragons Tournament is the largest competition held in Shaanxi. You can especially look forward to the prize for this year's competition.”
“It did look like a fine sword.”
At Ouyang Jue’s subtle probing, Adept Hyun Geom laughed heartily.
“Hahaha. You could say that fate itself brought it to us. To be honest, I'm still in a daze.”
At those words, Ouyang Jue felt a sense of doubt.
Severing Manifestation was no ordinary sword. No matter how unknown its maker was, it was an item that could have been sold for a high price.
But from the way he spoke, it seemed it wasn't bought or received as a gift for the competition, but rather obtained through some sort of fortuitous encounter.
Feeling the need to investigate further, Ouyang Jue asked casually.
“Are you saying that fate brought it to you?”
“That's right. Well, it's not a particularly important matter, so I suppose it's fine to tell you.”
Adept Hyun Geom cleared his throat softly.
“Actually, Severing Manifestation was given to us by a man who visited Wudang. Despite bringing such a fine sword, the man didn't even accept any reward.”
“Do you happen to know his name?”
“Hmm, I don’t know his name, but he did have a title that’s floating around.”
“A title? Was he a martial artist?”
“No, he wasn't a martial artist…”
As if struggling to remember, Adept Hyun Geom’s brow furrowed for a moment before smoothing out.
“The Omniscient One, was it?”
Once he remembered the title, Adept Hyun Geom could also recall the man's appearance.
“I remember him being around your age.”
The Omniscient One.
From the moment that word was spoken, Ouyang Jue remained frozen, unable to properly hear anything else Adept Hyun Geom was saying.