Chapter 162
Chapter 162
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 162
Chapter Title: Dark Clouds (2)
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Leaving the corpse in the white robe behind, Ouyang Jue hurried forward.
But what stood before him was not Jeok Sa-goeng, but more men in white robes.
Reminiscent of moths drawn to a flame, Ouyang Jue’s face contorted into a deep frown.
'Disgusting.'
Ouyang Jue spat on the ground and walked on.
Purple Mist True Energy flowed along the blade of Severing Manifestation, making the already sharp sword even harder and keener.
Yet, there was no fear in the eyes of the white-robed men.
Their gray pupils held no emotion.
They simply charged forward, not even blinking as their comrades fell before them—a truly bizarre sight.
'So they won't even give me a moment to catch my breath.'
Ouyang Jue's teeth ground together with a sharp sound. He had swung Severing Manifestation so many times that his wrist and forearm ached.
*Swish!*
Once again, the blade of Severing Manifestation swung, and a dozen white-robed men fell dead.
But more men immediately filled the gap, and deadly techniques, indiscriminate of friend or foe, filled his entire field of vision.
*Sssshhh...*
Each deadly move the white-robed men executed became a fine thread, weaving through the air.
Ouyang Jue was naturally caught in the middle. There was no room to dodge.
*Thud.*
As Ouyang Jue stepped back half a pace, a dull thud sounded behind him.
A stinging sensation on his skin told him the rough thorns of an old tree had pierced his robes.
'I was hoping to deal with this quietly and move on…'
The sun was gradually rising, and the scent of the sweet olive was fading.
The smell of blood was so strong that even Gwak Un-pae, who was far away, would soon be able to notice it.
"If you don't want to die, fall back."
Though he knew they wouldn't listen, Ouyang Jue put force into his voice.
Then he stepped forward half a pace again.
At the same time, the sword energy condensed on his blade transformed into sword force, emanating a fearsome aura.
*Crrreeak...!*
The old tree, unable to withstand the pressure from the sword force, began to crack.
*Crunch.* A groove formed beneath Ouyang Jue's feet. This was the external manifestation of nearly thirty years of internal energy circulating through his meridians.
His face flushed red, Ouyang Jue let out a light sigh.
"...Hooo."
After mastering the Grand Circulation, Ouyang Jue had no trouble wielding a great amount of internal energy.
While his body still had some physical weaknesses, that was something time would resolve.
Perhaps that was why, unlike two years ago, he no longer felt it was impossible.
Moreover, his body was no longer so frail that it would be harmed by the energy he himself emitted.
Ouyang Jue grinned as he swung Severing Manifestation through the white-robed men.
With just a single swing.
*Kwwwaaaaaaah!*
The air screamed along the arc of Severing Manifestation's swing.
The deadly techniques, the fine threads woven by the white-robed men, either distorted or snapped, unable to withstand the power of his sword force.
*Craaack!*
Naturally, the weapons that clashed with Severing Manifestation shattered without leaving even a speck of dust, and even the crazed men's eyes widened in shock.
"What in the...!"
"So your eyes are completely dead, but you still have tongues to speak, I see?"
The white-robed men did not answer Ouyang Jue's taunt. No, it would be more accurate to say they couldn't.
"Kuaaargh!"
The eyes of the men who had lost their beloved weapons rolled back. With a crazed glint in their eyes, they seemed to embrace even the sensation of their bodies being split apart by Severing Manifestation with a sense of ecstasy.
Even Ouyang Jue wore a look of disgust at the sight.
'I don't know who's behind this, but their methods are truly vile. Not even the old Demonic Cult, known through legends, could achieve this level of brainwashing.'
Ouyang Jue considered himself far from righteous, but seeing this made him clench his jaw.
It wasn't that a sense of justice had suddenly welled up within him.
It was just... sheer irritation.
What on earth did these men do to deserve becoming meat shields to block his path?
If someone had a grievance, shouldn't they face him themselves?
"Cowards."
Ouyang Jue muttered in a self-deprecating tone.
He felt he, who had used explosives and deceived others, had no right to say such a thing.
'Still, isn't this going too far?'
Ouyang Jue's hand reached for the face of one of the men.
*Ssk.*
Hoping to at least send the body to the man's family or sect, Ouyang Jue lifted his mask.
But what lay beneath was even more hideous.
"...You madmen!"
He knew what kind of group the Eight Evils were, and how dangerous they were, but...
Seeing the man's face, his skin stained black, Ouyang Jue felt a chill run down his spine.
Jeok Sa-goeng was in danger.
*Thwack!*
Ouyang Jue's feet shot forward.
* * *
"Hmm, hm-hmm, hmmm."
With the moonlit night at his back, Jeok Sa-goeng hummed a tune.
It was "An Affectionate Jianghu," a song no martial artist sang these days.
An old song, sung only by aging minstrels reminiscing about the past.
But Jeok Sa-goeng liked this kind of song.
It made him recall how hard he had lived and what memories he had made.
As he strolled through the forest like this, a dark voice came from somewhere.
"Is that 'An Affectionate Jianghu'? I like that song too."
"..."
Jeok Sa-goeng didn't bother asking the uninvited guest who he was. He simply, quietly, tightened his grip on his Ink Flame Spear.
He had long suspected that forces would come after him now that he had left the Martial Alliance.
And even if it were the remnants of the old Demonic Cult, Jeok Sa-goeng was confident he could prevail.
"How disappointing."
Hearing the voice again, Jeok Sa-goeng sensed his opponent had drawn closer.
Not right upon him, but ten or eleven paces away.
Close enough for a hidden weapon to pierce his throat.
Jeok Sa-goeng let out a shallow breath, his gaze growing colder.
"I was hoping we could share some old stories after all this time."
"How can we talk when you won't even show yourself?"
"Haha. That's a fair point."
With those words, a man emerged from between the trees.
Strangely, however, the man's face was hidden by a peculiar mask.
It depicted a demon shedding tears.
It was so lifelike that it seemed as if tears were actually dripping from the mask.
Jeok Sa-goeng asked in a relaxed voice.
"I told you to show yourself, yet you hide your face."
"This is moving beyond disappointment and into dismay... Have you forgotten my voice?"
"What nonsense are you spouting!"
As Jeok Sa-goeng roared, the man drew the sword hanging at his side.
Engraved on the blade were the words *Ryeobulmang* (Never Forget a Companion).
Only after seeing that did Jeok Sa-goeng realize who the man was.
"Sword Demon, Gyo Gang-cheon?!"
"So you finally recognize me."
Unlike Gyo Gang-cheon's curt reply, Jeok Sa-goeng couldn't hide his bewilderment.
It was only natural, as Gyo Gang-cheon was known to have retired into seclusion decades ago.
Jeok Sa-goeng's voice trembled slightly.
"Senior... No, how can you possibly be alive?"
To that, Gyo Gang-cheon muttered something else instead of answering.
"Seeing that impudent brat still alive really makes me feel how much time has passed."
"Answer me!"
"It's exactly as you think."
A hint of sadness tinged Gyo Gang-cheon's voice for a moment, but the emotion was fleeting.
A sharp, blue sword force spread along the blade Gyo Gang-cheon held.
"The Eight Evils you people talk about these days. I'm just one of them. Isn't that simple? All we have to do is kill or be killed."
"You can't be!"
Jeok Sa-goeng stared at Gyo Gang-cheon with disbelief.
"You're not... a monster like the Eight Evils!"
"Do you dare think you know everything about me? Back then, I was just enjoying a minor diversion. It just happened to last a bit long and go a bit deep."
Dismissing Jeok Sa-goeng's words, Gyo Gang-cheon twirled the tip of his sword.
"Are you going to die whining, or die fighting?"
"..."
Jeok Sa-goeng realized this could no longer be resolved with words.
But the Gyo Gang-cheon he remembered was not an opponent he could easily defeat.
One wrong move, and he could die.
The very reason the moniker "Sword Demon" had become so widespread in the martial world was because of Gyo Gang-cheon's existence.
"...Very well."
Jeok Sa-goeng steeled himself. He trusted the Ink Flame Spear in his right hand.
The martial arts he had honed his entire life were not to be taken lightly. Not even if his opponent was the Gyo Gang-cheon!
Jeok Sa-goeng's knuckles turned white.
At the same time, Jeok Sa-goeng's figure shot forward.
*BOOM!*
A thunderous roar that shook the mountainside clawed at Gyo Gang-cheon's ears.
But he merely smiled with a relaxed expression.
"I don't recall offering you the first move."
The sword in Gyo Gang-cheon's hand lifted upwards, exuding a menacing aura.
For a moment, Jeok Sa-goeng felt as if that sword was a guillotine.
A blade that could slice his body in two in an instant.
A cold sweat trickled down the side of Jeok Sa-goeng's face.
*CLANG!*
As the Ink Flame Spear spun once, the sword penetrated its defense.
Wasn't it said that Gyo Gang-cheon's first strike could cleave mountains, and his second, the heavens? More than forty years had passed since that fame spread.
After so much time, even a martial artist would grow old, their skills dulling to some extent.
But Jeok Sa-goeng was learning firsthand that it was no exaggeration.
*Crack.*
A strange sound came from his shoulder.
An impact that would have crushed it instantly, had it not been protected by internal energy, bore down on Jeok Sa-goeng.
"Hoh."
An exclamation of admiration escaped Gyo Gang-cheon's lips.
"To think the brat from back then could block my first strike like this. You've truly matured as a warrior."
"Damn it all..."
To think he'd hear the very words he had said to Jo Hun.
Jeok Sa-goeng let out a hollow laugh and refocused on the fight.
His blazing gaze alone seemed sharp enough to pierce through Gyo Gang-cheon.
*Whoosh!*
Parry, seize, thrust.
What were mere basic spear techniques transformed into the pinnacle of skill in Jeok Sa-goeng's hands.
When Gyo Gang-cheon thrusted, he would deflect the blow outward; when he slashed, he would press inward, twisting its trajectory.
Between those movements, a thrust shot out like a flash of light.
It was a unique spear art he had never even named, but for an unspeakably long time, Jeok Sa-goeng had held immense pride in it.
He had roamed the martial world with a skill forged entirely on his own, without belonging to any sect or clan.
Jeok Sa-goeng's spear art was a masterpiece he had carved out himself.
Then, a sudden regret came over him, and Jeok Sa-goeng's lips parted.
"...Heavenly Light."
It might seem strange to say such a thing in the middle of a fight, but Jeok Sa-goeng was struck by a sudden whim.
To think he now wanted to name a technique he had never felt the need to name before.
Gyo Gang-cheon would scoff if he heard it.
But Jeok Sa-goeng did not lose his seriousness.
The martial world may have become more heartless than before, but still, wasn't it a man's nature to want to leave a name behind?
*Kwakakakaka!*
Jeok Sa-goeng's thrusts accelerated rapidly, striking at Gyo Gang-cheon's entire body. They were four or five times faster than before, causing even Gyo Gang-cheon to lose his composure for a moment.
It was a speed truly befitting the name Heavenly Light.
*Swish.*
As Gyo Gang-cheon took half a step back for the first time, Jeok Sa-goeng seized the opening and immediately pressed forward.
*Whoooosh...*
The wind howled as the Ink Flame Spear spun half a circle. It was as if the surrounding air, the spear, and Jeok Sa-goeng had become one.
"Heaven's Return."
The spear force imbued in the Ink Flame Spear mixed with the wind, creating a bizarre sound. It was nothing short of a small typhoon.
Gyo Gang-cheon burst into loud laughter.
"Yes, that's it!"
"...!"
*Flash!*
The spear Jeok Sa-goeng had honed his entire life clashed with Gyo Gang-cheon's sword.