Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Unification (2)
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*Screeeech… Thud!*
Bent to its limit, Sang Won-gyeol's body shot forward, a blur that deceived the eye.
A Heart-Piercing Elbow, honed through what must have been thousands, tens of thousands of repetitions.
As the ball of his right foot dug into the ground, his swinging elbow became a terrifying weapon.
Imbued with dense internal energy, it radiated an even more menacing aura.
*Clang!*
However, the blow only managed to push back the Severing Manifestation for a moment.
Seeing this, Sang Won-gyeol was momentarily stunned.
‘His skills are nothing like the rumors!’
Along with the sharp edge of the Severing Manifestation, the unique heat of the Purple Mist True Energy seared his elbow.
This wasn’t good. The surprise attack from behind was a problem, but failing to end it in one blow was worse.
It was enough to cause another problem.
A murmur spread.
Noticing the growing noise from the crowd, Sang Won-gyeol narrowed his eyes. Most of them were voices of condemnation directed at him.
What came next from Sang Won-gyeol's mouth was a cowardly accusation.
“Even if you are a disciple of Mount Hua, how dare you disgrace our gate in front of its master! I will teach you a lesson right here!”
For words directed at the Mount Hua Sect, a major gate of Shaanxi, they lacked a certain conviction.
But the greed of individuals knows no bounds.
‘No matter what evil deeds the Black Dragon Gang committed…’
‘They aren't as great an evil as the Demonic Cult, are they? Besides, this is the martial world; before being fellow Daoist gates, we are different sects.’
Hostile gazes pricked at Ouyang Jue's skin.
As it was, all those who resented the talk of Mount Hua and Zhongnan unifying the Daoist gates of Shaanxi were gathered here.
In that light, wasn't Ouyang Jue the most unwelcome presence of all?
Though they couldn't cheer openly, many eyes wished for Sang Won-gyeol to defeat Ouyang Jue.
‘So that's how you're going to play it.’
Ouyang Jue's eyes turned cold.
The gazes could be excused as a matter of martial world politics, but the move Sang Won-gyeol had just used was executed with genuine intent.
And to top it off, this whole spectacle of claiming to have been disgraced by a much younger junior was truly a sight to behold.
The corner of Ouyang Jue's mouth twisted in disgust.
“Truly, the Iron Bamboo Master.”
A single sentence packed with the weight of ten.
His face flushed crimson like a jujube, Sang Won-gyeol immediately launched his next move.
Heavenward Charge.
The pivot of the Heart-Piercing Elbow, his right foot, seemed to lift for a moment before he stamped it down hard.
His direction was Ouyang Jue, the distance moved… a mere inch.
Seeing this, Ouyang Jue immediately took a step back.
As he did, he bent his knees slightly.
He relaxed all the muscles in his body, ready to move fluidly at any moment.
‘I was unsure at first, but his martial arts are based on the Eight Extremes Fist.’
If so, this technique must be a combination of a powerful thrust, internal energy release, and a heavy strike.
Is his plan to block the Severing Manifestation with the power from his footwork and internal energy, then use the opening to land a devastating blow?
Ouyang Jue smirked. He welcomed such attacks.
At the same time, he glanced in the direction of Mount Hua.
‘No rumors have spread.’
Not about inheriting Ha Jin-ak's legacy, nor about taking the Small Purple Spirit Elixir.
If even a whisper had leaked from Mount Hua, Sang Won-gyeol's attitude would have been different, and he wouldn't have started a fight like this.
This was proof that the Mount Hua Sect was also struggling.
‘First the Golden Ring Merchant Guild, then the Senior-most Brother's unconsciousness, Cheol Geum-san's betrayal…’
Each one was a topic explosive enough to cause turmoil within the sect.
But somehow, they were managing it.
It meant that even if they bled and bore scars, their foundation remained unshaken.
Ouyang Jue's robes fluttered from the Purple Mist True Energy.
*Bang!*
The flawlessly wielded power and the internal energy guided from his dantian blended together exquisitely.
“…Mmm!”
Just before the two martial artists clashed, even the gossips who loved to chatter shut their mouths and let out a low groan.
This was the essence of the Eight Extremes.
A first-class strike containing the very core of the martial arts taught at the Zhongwan Gate.
*Crack.* Sang Won-gyeol clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles ground together with a harsh sound.
The heat radiating from him was also formidable.
At that, a Daoist familiar with Sang Won-gyeol's martial arts shouted urgently.
“Iron Bamboo Master! Are you trying to cripple a junior?!”
At those words, Sang Won-gyeol tried to halt his attack.
But he couldn't completely stop a move already in motion.
Besides, right before Sang Won-gyeol's eyes, it had already begun.
Ouyang Jue's swordsmanship, the path traced by the Severing Manifestation as it sliced through the air.
Sang Won-gyeol's expression contorted into a frown.
‘His internal energy… isn't he actually stronger than me…?’
His senses and intuition, honed through years of martial arts training, told him so.
That Ouyang Jue was no ordinary Daoist.
He sensed defeat, thinking Ouyang Jue would surely counter his Heavenward Charge with a single, piercing sword strike.
In that instant.
In a moment carved from a fraction of time, Sang Won-gyeol clenched his teeth.
‘I was wrong.’
The pivot of the Heart-Piercing Elbow, shifted with force; a strike unleashed with the momentum of the Heavenward Charge.
This was the essence he had built since childhood, when he learned martial arts from a passing Daoist.
The life of the Daoist named Sang Won-gyeol.
The pride of the sect known as the Zhongwan Gate.
All of that was contained in this one fist.
‘My martial arts are not so weak as to be broken by a brat like this!’
He could never accept defeat.
The moment his fist was about to collide with the Severing Manifestation, Sang Won-gyeol twisted his wrist minutely.
*Boom!*
The crushing pressure of the fist and its momentum clashed with the sword energy that sought to slash through it.
The grains of sand between the two Daoists had long since scattered.
The resulting wind pressure made the onlookers squint.
“I can't see a thing…”
“Who's being pushed back?”
It was hard to even open their eyes against the fierce wind pressure, and even if they did, the dust forced them shut again.
Meanwhile, in a space isolated from the outside world, a fierce struggle was unfolding.
Fast. And his strikes were precise.
Watching Sang Won-gyeol's flurry of blows, Ouyang Jue slightly revised his assessment.
‘At least he wasn't all talk.’
He didn't just throw his weight around among the small and medium-sized Daoist gates for no reason.
He acted the part and dominated because he had the skill to back it up.
With his outstanding martial arts, he must have grown ambitious.
Thinking that the Zhongwan Gate he had built could also become a gate on par with Mount Hua or Zhongnan.
But he was lacking in every respect.
‘He's not even as good as the Red Tiger Demon.’
Ouyang Jue recalled the man whose final words had been so solemn.
Compared to what lay ahead, this was just a passing event, but in his current life, he was still the only impressive enemy he had faced.
A man whose skills were exceptional and who could devise strategies even in the midst of a battle from which one couldn't look away for a second.
Compared to such an enemy, the Sang Won-gyeol before him was a shabby figure.
Ouyang Jue's lips twitched.
-That's enough.
-…?
As if their evenly matched struggle until now had been a lie.
Ouyang Jue pulled back his elbow and retrieved the Severing Manifestation. Then he thrust it into its sheath.
Seeing this, Sang Won-gyeol's voice trembled.
“You, you bastard.”
“…”
Ouyang Jue said nothing.
For now, the situation before him was chaotic.
Because Sang Won-gyeol's fists and feet were relentlessly assailing him.
The wind from his fists buffeting his skin, the dull thuds created as they pushed through the air.
The ultimate techniques of the Zhongwan Gate continued to unfold one after another from Sang Won-gyeol.
After some time had passed like this.
“…What?”
Someone said.
In a bewildered voice, as if greatly surprised.
He couldn't believe his eyes.
The others were the same.
It was an incomprehensible sight for a duel between two Daoists whose age difference was difficult to even fathom.
The wind pressure that had forced their eyes shut and the swirling sand had all settled.
“Does this make any sense?”
“My god…”
Gossips tend to see only what they want to see, and Daoists enjoy observing tales of virtue.
Usually, the former was sensational and reeked of blood, while the latter was not.
Therefore, their perspectives rarely aligned…
Coincidentally, this time they were seeing the same thing.
A swordsman who didn't swing his sword, but merely dodged.
And a first-class fist master unleashing merciless ultimate techniques at him.
A faint sneer formed on Ouyang Jue's lips.
“How long do you intend to keep this up?”
“Damn it!”
With his back straight, Ouyang Jue looked down on Sang Won-gyeol, who was still executing his fist and foot techniques.
Sang Won-gyeol's face was no longer just crimson; it was crumbling.
It must be devastating.
There was no way he could feel good about having the martial arts he had built up over a lifetime be completely trampled by a junior not yet of age.
Moreover, what was the footwork Ouyang Jue was using?
The Plum Blossom Steps, the basic footwork of the Mount Hua Sect.
The faces of the Daoists who recognized it twisted in dismay.
“With just the Plum Blossom Steps, he's…?”
Empty sighs escaped from all around.
It seemed even Sang Won-gyeol was keenly aware that he was no match for a rising star of the Mount Hua Sect.
Even in such a situation, Ouyang Jue remained calm.
‘In reality, this man and those watching are no different.’
Sang Won-gyeol stepped forward, confident in his martial arts, while the others merely stood by and watched.
The Daoist who had shouted for him to stop, worried for Ouyang Jue, was the only decent one among them.
Ouyang Jue decided not to treat them as fellow Daoists.
*Shing!*
Drawn from its sheath, the Severing Manifestation swung, tracing a single line.
“If this is the way you seniors want it.”
…*Thump*.
Sang Won-gyeol's Daoist robe, torn in half, fell to the ground.
His lips, so confident until now, had long since turned deathly pale.
He had thrown away justice and principle with his indignant surprise attack.
Ouyang Jue had cleanly shattered the deep-seated prejudice of the martial world.
No, it was a great victory that overcame the difference in age and rank.
In a situation like this, how could the small and medium-sized Daoist gates, led by Sang Won-gyeol, dare to speak up?
Then, Ouyang Jue spoke.
“I apologize for my somewhat rash behavior today.”
“?”
The Daoists blinked at his rather unexpected words.
Honestly, what Sang Won-gyeol had just done was something that would be considered taboo not only among Daoist gates but in the entire Orthodox Faction.
Yet, wasn't Ouyang Jue's statement an admission that he, too, was at fault?
A hint of relief appeared on Sang Won-gyeol's face.
But his words were not yet finished.
“However, I will remember what you seniors did today.”
“H-huh…”
I will remember.
Though he had said only this, the Daoists had to harbor a deep sense of worry.
Then, their gazes converged on one person.
‘If only that man hadn't stirred up trouble…!’
‘Talk of becoming the second Mount Hua or Zhongnan was just empty words. What? Wait for the right time?’
Sang Won-gyeol trembled under the resentful gazes of the other Daoists.
If Ouyang Jue were to leave now, they would surely start arguing amongst themselves.
Watching this, Ouyang Jue let out a small laugh.
‘That's none of my business.’
He had shown courtesy befitting a disciple of Mount Hua and even offered an unnecessary apology to prevent any complaints.
It would be fine even if they destroyed each other.
What was important now was the symbol of Shaanxi's Daoist gates gathering in one place.
And the strong sense of unity, with no one daring to voice dissent.
That's when it begins.
The march of Mount Hua, which has unified the Daoist gates of Shaanxi.
‘Playing the part of a Daoist is hard, but isn't the process of consolidating power easier than being a rogue?’
Ouyang Jue's faint smile deepened.
He was still more accustomed to the ways of a rogue than those of a Daoist.