Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Wall (3)
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At those words, Cheol Geum-san seemed at a loss, pressing his lips tightly shut.
But the silence did not last long.
A belated, incredulous laugh escaped him.
“You?”
His gaze went beyond anger, bordering on amusement.
Even the first-generation disciples, who had always been close to Liu Zhangming, scoffed.
The difference in their levels was that vast.
Moreover, it came after a one-sided slaughter. Numerically, they were at an absolute disadvantage.
Despite this, Liu Zhangming spoke calmly.
“When I know this injustice, and the heavens know it, how can I possibly retreat?”
Liu Zhangming's gaze fell upon the blood-soaked second-generation disciples and Ik Hyeon.
A resolve he had never shown before, an indomitable fighting spirit, began to stir within him.
“Furthermore, this is the land of the Mount Hua Sect. Those who are uninvolved should get lost.”
Cheol Geum-san stroked his long beard with one hand.
He knew it too.
That Liu Zhangming had stepped forward to save Ik Hyeon, even without the company of other elders.
Cheol Geum-san's eyes twisted maliciously.
“Hah, with Jin-ak bedridden, now a fox dares to act like a tiger.”
It was a blatant insult.
For the very person who had put Ha Jin-ak in his sickbed to scold Liu Zhangming, the likely successor to the Senior-most Brother.
Having heard it, he could not simply let it pass.
It was a provocation that would have made any disciple of the sect immediately unleash a killing technique.
But Liu Zhangming merely let out a heavy sigh.
“...Haaah.”
With that, Liu Zhangming released the rage that had consumed him.
Seeing this, Cheol Geum-san's face hardened for a moment.
*‘I thought he would take the bait.’*
For him, renowned for the deep bond between his martial brothers, to suppress his anger.
But that was as far as his thoughts went.
The tide was in their favor. Even if Liu Zhangming could multiply himself by dozens, the gap was insurmountable.
Cheol Geum-san drew his sword.
“Do you see this?”
“...”
Liu Zhangming's gaze shifted to Cheol Geum-san's sword.
The characters for 'Mount Hua' carved on the blade's surface had been ground away with a whetstone.
In their place were carved the characters for 'Despise Hua'.
*Grip.*
The dam of his patience broke.
The limits of his endurance and tolerance crumbled in an instant, shattering the wall of his suppressed emotions.
Liu Zhangming, who had briefly bowed his head, lifted his chin once more.
Those two eyes.
A chilling, bright light flared in his eyes as he looked at Cheol Geum-san and his first-generation disciples.
*‘...?!’*
Cheol Geum-san instinctively extended his sword.
Graceful curves mingled with solemn straight lines, blurring Liu Zhangming's vision.
At the same time, a sharp noise shot out.
*Kkiiigagak!*
Like playing an iron zither on an ink stone, vibrations flowed through the ground, and a sonic attack, like the sharp plucking of a string, was unleashed.
The sword art Cheol Geum-san displayed was a harmony of a triple strike in one.
He even seemed able to freely distinguish between friend and foe.
A line.
Thinner than a silk thread, a fine line registered in Liu Zhangming's senses.
“Kuaack!”
A second-generation disciple grazed by that line spewed a fountain of blood.
Ik Hyeon managed to block it, but his complexion grew even worse.
A deep sigh escaped Liu Zhangming's lips.
“Truly.”
Though he wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, Liu Zhangming corrected his posture.
He straightened his slightly bent back and shook off the oppressive pressure he felt from the last strike.
It wouldn't be long.
Before that strike, which had incapacitated half the second-generation disciples, reached them.
*Grit.*
Liu Zhangming's grip tightened.
It was not a killing technique meant to slay his foe, nor a powerful blow to counter it.
It was solely to deflect that strike and save the remaining second-generation disciples.
“Haaaap...!”
The tip of Liu Zhangming's sword half-rotated, gliding through the air.
His half-bent knees were enough to support the movement.
It must be thanks to his recent training.
Liu Zhangming briefly thought of Ouyang Jue, who was far away.
*‘If he were here now, it would be so reassuring.’*
But he immediately erased the thought.
Such a shallow desire to rely on his junior brother was not something to entertain in this situation.
Instead, he poured everything he had trained for in Mount Hua into his next move.
The feeling of longing he had experienced upon reaching the peak of his power reared its head.
“...Plum Blossom Sword Arts?”
Seeing Liu Zhangming's sword path, Cheol Geum-san frowned.
It wasn't something to boast about, but the technique he had just used was his signature move, honed over a lifetime of sword training.
He wasn't called the Ink Stone Iron String in the martial world for nothing.
And yet, he intended to block it with the Plum Blossom Sword Arts?
*‘Insolent!’*
Gritting his teeth, Cheol Geum-san swung again, imbuing his sword with immense internal energy.
It was like a wave.
A wave fueled by the energy poured into the sword. A reaper that sank any opponent it struck without exception.
But Liu Zhangming did not yield. He unleashed his technique with an indomitable will, as if declaring he would not be defeated.
“Plum Shadow Forges a River.”
The shadows cast by the plum blossoms form a river, blocking the line from invading the second-generation disciples.
“Plum Fragrance Becomes a Current.”
The fragrance emanating from the plum blossoms becomes a current. Each ripple is a sword qi crafted by Liu Zhangming, a harmony where they interlock.
Liu Zhangming's sword danced.
“Plum Endures the Snowy Cold.”
The interlocking plum blossoms intertwine to create a grand spectacle, becoming solid enough to withstand even the cold of the snow.
In the end, Cheol Geum-san's ultimate technique fell to the ground like a kite with a snapped string.
Finally, the tip of the sword, held tightly in Liu Zhangming's grasp, pointed at Cheol Geum-san.
“From time immemorial, the fragrance of a single plum blossom travels ten thousand li.”
This is called the Ten Thousand Li Fragrance of the Plum Blossom.
Liu Zhangming's pupils turned completely white.
Reflected within them was a single figure: a nameless monster who had lost the name he gained in Mount Hua.
At the same time, he was also a fiend who had failed to uphold justice and duty.
A shameless man who had cast out his own disciples.
And a beast with a human face and a beast's heart who had driven the sect's Senior-most Brother to his death.
“I cannot forgive you.”
The presence Liu Zhangming emitted suddenly faded. No, it became colorless and odorless.
In that moment, Cheol Geum-san felt as if Liu Zhangming's presence had grown distant.
“What are you...!”
Cheol Geum-san's voice trembled.
There was something incomprehensible, a glimpse of something he shouldn't be seeing right now.
“What kind of enlightenment did you attain to reach such a state...?!”
Liu Zhangming did not answer.
He thought Cheol Geum-san was trying to buy time or let out a pathetic final scream.
“You knew the Senior-most Brother would end up like that, yet you remained silent!”
The rage Liu Zhangming spewed shook the path on Mount Hua.
It was something beyond the peak, something that couldn't be explained by that level.
But he was overlooking something.
“...What.”
A state beyond one's control cannot be wielded for long, and even handling it is an ordeal.
As Liu Zhangming hesitated, unable to easily unleash the Ten Thousand Li Fragrance of the Plum Blossom, Cheol Geum-san immediately shook off his fear.
The only chance left was now.
At that thought, shame flushed his face red.
“A brat like you dares, dares!”
A killing intent surged within him, a desire to kill him immediately.
Cheol Geum-san's sword lashed out, filled with a vicious aura. It was a simple slash, without any set form or technique.
The emotion he felt was too intense to be described merely as shame.
Just a first-generation disciple.
A novice who had just reached the peak.
The fact that such a person, Liu Zhangming, had almost overpowered him was incredibly unpleasant.
He wanted to crush his dantian and smash his face right now.
“Hehe, hehe!”
A purple demonic energy sparked across Cheol Geum-san's face.
It was so dense that every Taoist nearby could recognize it.
“Good heavens, demonic energy?!”
“How could this be... He was practicing demonic arts.”
But the first-generation disciples reacted as if it were nothing. They even tried to use this opening to annihilate the remaining second-generation disciples.
Just then.
*Swish!*
A chilling, sharp sound sank into the path.
“...?”
Cheol Geum-san stared blankly down at his arm.
It was gone.
The hand that was about to cut down Liu Zhangming had vanished.
A middle-aged man appeared, filling the empty space.
“As if it weren't enough for a Mount Hua elder to be secretly practicing demonic arts, he was even corrupting his disciples.”
Just what kind of insidious demonic art made this possible?
The middle-aged man—no, Gwak Un-pae—revealed his cold eyes.
“Don't even expect me to treat you as a senior brother.”
“That is not necessary, Uncle Gwak.”
“...?”
Liu Zhangming forced his trembling hands to still and pointed at Cheol Geum-san.
“That man can no longer receive anything from Mount Hua. I have decreed it so in place of the Senior-most Brother.”
“Ah, is that so.”
Gwak Un-pae replied simply, raising his fighting spirit as if this was what he had hoped for.
To receive nothing meant one thing.
“Therefore, I shall take back all the martial arts and the sinews of your limbs.”
Mount Hua would take back everything it had ever taught him.
Gwak Un-pae was neither the Master of the Law Enforcement Hall nor the Master of the Disciplinary Hall, but there was one thing.
He surpassed everyone else in Mount Hua in one aspect.
*‘The Sword's Cry!’*
Cold sweat trickled down the side of Cheol Geum-san's face.
Mount Hua's greatest killing sword.
The skill that was said to have decapitated six underworld martial artists the moment his sword was drawn from its sheath remained.
Then, Gwak Un-pae spoke coldly.
“Don't try to block it. It would be better to deflect it.”
His right hand moved toward the hilt.
“That is, if you don't want to die a painful death.”
*Shhhring, kaga-gang!*
The sword cried out.
* * *
Meanwhile, Ouyang Jue, having left the Zhongnan Sect to handle the situation, was hurrying on his way.
At the same time, he recalled Cheol Geum-san's unusually grim face.
He had a bad feeling.
“Great hero, get on here!”
As soon as he reached the east gate, a horseman prepared in advance by Bai Chuan signaled him.
*Pang!*
Ouyang Jue's body seemed to float up, then quickly settled onto the saddle.
It was truly an incredible movement technique.
Even the horseman, who prided himself on having seen countless martial artists, felt his hands tremble slightly.
*‘I heard from the Guild Leader that he wasn't even of age yet. Where did someone like him come from...!’*
But he didn't voice his thoughts. Bai Chuan had given strict orders to treat him with the utmost respect.
Silence.
Right now, that was a virtue, and likely the kind of utmost respect Ouyang Jue desired.
The horseman asked carefully.
“Is there anything else you require?”
“No.”
After his short reply, Ouyang Jue lightly kicked the horse's belly.
“...Hiyah!”
In the gradually darkening twilight.
A lone rider kicked up a light cloud of dust as he galloped along the road to Mount Hua.