Chapter 180
Chapter 180
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 180
Chapter Title: Debt
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Hyun-gong's sudden action left not only Muryangja but Dang Mujin's group utterly shocked.
'This bastard Hyun-gong has finally shown his true colors!'
Everyone stared at Hyun-gong with similar thoughts racing through their minds.
It was a situation that would make any ordinary person shrink back in shame, but there wasn't the slightest flicker of unease on Hyun-gong's face.
He knew that showing weakness or embarrassment would only invite fiercer attacks.
When the one who caused the trouble acts with brazen confidence, people subconsciously start questioning themselves: 'Am I overreacting?' or 'Is this actually normal?'
Dang Mujin's group naturally found their thoughts drifting in that direction.
'Am I the only one seeing this as weird?'
'Come to think of it, Muryangja's been acting pretty much the same way.'
'It's just an unconventional response. Maybe not outright shameless...'
As the atmosphere calmed in an instant, Hyun-gong pressed his sword tightly against Baek Hyang-a's throat.
Thin trickles of blood seeped from her neck—it was clear that even the slightest struggle would tear her windpipe.
Baek Hyang-a rolled her eyes, glaring at Hyun-gong with eyes brimming with resentment.
The moment their gazes met, Hyun-gong maintained his cold expression and thought to himself.
'Add four points to Muryangja.'
Four points was a huge score, but not quite enough to turn the tables. Hyun-gong whispered in a chilling voice.
"This wasn't what I wanted, but I have no desire to harm this young lady. Don't resist."
Hyun-gong figured that with this much courtesy, even an unknown junior like her wouldn't think ill of him.
It seemed like every situation was now firmly in Hyun-gong's grasp.
Emboldened, he puffed out his chest. With control of the momentum secured, it was time to wield it freely.
"Muryangja! If you want to save this young lady's life, face the Flash Sword yourself!"
But contrary to Hyun-gong's expectations, Muryangja didn't budge. He simply fixed Hyun-gong with a cool, piercing gaze.
Muryangja had lived a bold and unyielding life.
For the past forty years, he'd roamed as a warrior of the unorthodox sects, and even after switching to the orthodox side around twenty years ago, he'd been treated well within the Kunlun Sect.
The very idea of someone trying to chain him down felt alien—and unwelcome.
Of course, Baek Hyang-a was special to Muryangja.
She was his first direct disciple, the sole blood kin of the Sword King he respected, and she was accumulating achievements at an astonishing pace thanks to the vast yin energy and inner power unique to her Nine Yin Severed Meridians.
But that was the extent of it. To Muryangja, nothing mattered more than his own life.
If he followed Hyun-gong's orders and clashed with Flash Sword Yu Gwan-il now, expending his strength, he'd be in grave danger facing the young upstarts afterward.
Muryangja made a pragmatic decision.
'It's unfortunate, but I have to abandon Baek Hyang-a.'
Hyun-gong had been watching Muryangja closely, so he immediately sensed the man was about to flip the board.
Hyun-gong quickly offered an alternative condition.
"No, you don't need to fight the Flash Sword. But don't cower behind your allies like a coward!"
"Hmm."
It was a proposal for a three-way standoff. This could create the variable Dang Mujin's group desperately wanted, and it was acceptable enough for Muryangja.
He thought to himself.
'The odds of me losing to the Flash Sword are far lower than those kids losing to him. Not a bad deal.'
Muryangja shot Hyun-gong a glare before positioning himself slightly away from both Yu Gwan-il and Dang Mujin's group.
Dang Mujin's group and Muryangja's eyes all locked onto Yu Gwan-il. Depending on who the berserk Yu Gwan-il charged at, the battle lines would shift.
A beast driven mad by rage always targets the most obvious weakness first.
Yu Gwan-il's eyes fell on the hesitant Hong Geolgae—an undeniable weak point.
Spotting his prey, Yu Gwan-il lunged at Dang Mujin's group, swinging his sword.
"Uwaaaah!"
"Fall back!"
As Hong Geolgae retreated, Namgung Myeong and Yu Jin-gwang surged forward to block Yu Gwan-il's blade.
While Namgung Myeong and Yu Jin-gwang engaged him, Dang Mujin stayed at the rear, keeping a sharp eye on Muryangja's movements.
Sure enough, Muryangja began to stir, seizing his chance. Whatever he planned, Dang Mujin had no intention of taking it lying down.
Hidden behind his allies, Dang Mujin subtly flexed his left hand. Five needles as fine as ox hairs slipped silently from his sleeve into his fingertips.
'You think I'll let you strike first?'
Dang Mujin flicked his fingers with a quiet snap. Ttik, ttik.
The slender needles streaked through the air low to the ground, below knee height.
They seemed to vanish in a direction unrelated to the fight, but with each twitch of Dang Mujin's left hand, they curved as if threaded on invisible strings.
A few years ago, managing even one direction change per needle was his limit. Now, the needles danced like living wasps, shifting trajectories multiple times with fluid grace.
Of course, all five needles combined weighed less than a single pebble.
Yet manipulating five at once—and from such a distance—was a feat even absolute peak masters would struggle to replicate.
Even an absolute peak master's void manipulation wasn't all that different from a first-rate or peak warrior's; the main edge was handling heavier objects.
No one had anticipated an attack like this, but its effect was undeniable.
The needle assault caught Muryangja off guard, slipping through his blind spot to embed in the nape of his neck.
'...!'
Any ordinary martial artist would focus on expelling the poison upon sensing it.
But Muryangja was different. Instead of suppressing the toxin, he tensed up to defend against potential follow-up strikes.
It was an highly effective response, allowing him to flick away three of the stealthily flying poisoned needles.
In other words, he let two get through.
Muryangja yanked out the two needles and flung them to the ground before hastily suppressing the poison and retreating. A chill ran down his spine.
'Sneaky bastard!'
Two needles embedded in his body. Two types of poison seeping in. Likely, each of the five needles carried a different venom.
Five poisons might still be manageable if he acted fast to evade while suppressing them, but Dang Mujin surely wielded more than just five varieties.
If seven or eight lethal toxins were mixed in, even Muryangja couldn't guarantee survival.
'I didn't even catch the moment he launched them. How?'
Up to now, Muryangja had pegged the group's core as the Flash Sword's son. If he had to name others, the one-armed guy and Wudang's Hyun-gong.
But the trickiest foe turned out to be Dang Mujin, who seemed the least skilled.
He knew the guy practiced poison arts, but not to this threatening degree. In some ways, Dang Mujin was several times more dangerous than the Flash Sword's son. A more chaotic melee would have made it even tougher.
'Figures. No group lets in total weaklings.'
Muryangja berated his own complacency and sharpened his focus.
In the next instant, he realized there was someone even harder to fathom than Dang Mujin: Hong Geolgae.
'If the poison user's this formidable, what the hell is that beggar?'
Dang Mujin, the second-clumsiest looking in the group, had revealed such a threatening skill.
For balance, the clumsiest one—the beggar—had to be hiding something even more dangerous.
Muryangja's mind raced.
'A hidden master in reversion to infancy? Or some kind of sorcery?'
The beggar's previously unremarkable, listless movements now seemed suspicious.
In the dire fight, he avoided directly confronting the Flash Sword, hanging back and only occasionally thrusting his bamboo staff in shaky defense.
As that thought crystallized, Muryangja's eyes widened. He'd overlooked something crucial.
'How did he block the Flash Sword's blade with just that bamboo staff?'
And there wasn't even a scratch on the staff. Unless the beggar possessed inner power vast enough to overwhelm the Flash Sword, such a feat was impossible.
Muryangja wanted to charge in and carve up Dang Mujin right then, but Hong Geolgae's unclear skill level made him hesitate. The three-way clash settled back into a delicate balance.
Watching this, Hong Geolgae whispered softly to Dang Mujin.
"Why's Muryangja acting like that? Suddenly all cautious."
"I sprinkled some needles. Once he tastes that stealthy poison sting, he can't help but get timid."
Hong Geolgae nodded at Dang Mujin's explanation. Dang Mujin's poison arts had earned even Sam-an-bul's recognition for their threat. And he'd trained nearly three more years since—making them even deadlier now.
A pang tugged at Hong Geolgae's chest. His friends had all broken through the peak realm wall, but he had no idea when he'd scale his own.
Part of him yearned to risk it all and charge the Flash Sword.
But the gap in skill was too vast to forge a breakthrough opportunity. Step forward, and his head would roll before two exchanges.
Then, Yu Gwan-il assumed a bizarre stance: elbow cocked back to his ear, sword held horizontal.
It was the same Huye Sael technique he'd seen before.
Yu Jin-gwang whispered urgently.
"I'll handle him. Fall back!"
Namgung Myeong retreated without a word.
Yu Jin-gwang mirrored the pose as if reflected in a mirror—the only difference being that he replicated Yu Gwan-il's right-arm Huye Sael with his left.
'If I can perfectly mimic Huye Sael, my sword can block Father's.'
As Yu Gwan-il's shoulder twitched, Yu Jin-gwang thrust without hesitation. The two sword tips—and points—met.
But Yu Gwan-il's blade was slightly faster, sharper. The unbalanced clash failed to hold equilibrium, and Yu Gwan-il's sword grazed Yu Jin-gwang's left shoulder.
Yu Jin-gwang felt the searing pain in his shoulder. But the faint wind pressure brushing his nape instilled far greater fear.
'One inch closer, and I'd be dead.'
As Yu Gwan-il readied a follow-up strike, Dang Mujin shifted into a stance to unleash his Five Poison Divine Sand. Yu Jin-gwang hastily parried the blade and waved him off.
"Not yet!"
This was a fight for survival, but also a pivotal moment in the Jeomchang Sect's martial legacy. If Yu Gwan-il died before Yu Jin-gwang grasped enlightenment, the sect's unpassed arts would be lost forever.
To inherit Jeomchang's legacy, Yu Jin-gwang had to endure as much of the fight against his father as possible.
But the cost was the lives of the entire group. Dang Mujin spoke in a worried tone.
"How much longer do you need?"
"No greed. Just one more chance. One time."
"When the opening comes, can you take down your father?"
"Of course. Father wanted this—why would I hesitate?"
Yu Jin-gwang thought: If I were the father, I'd choose death by my son's hand over some outsider's.
Lost in distraction, Yu Gwan-il's Radiant Shadow Swordplay grazed his forehead and chest.
Strangely, Yu Gwan-il ignored Muryangja entirely, pouring all his attacks on Yu Jin-gwang. A father's greed to teach his son one more thing, a warrior's desire to pass on his arts.
As the long exchange ended, Yu Gwan-il stepped back, assuming an uncharacteristically upright stance unlike a madman. His elbow cocked back fully. Another Huye Sael.
The moment Yu Gwan-il prepared Huye Sael again, Muryangja realized it was time to play his trump card from the rear.
'Take them both out in one go.'
If a fight was inevitable, strike at the optimal moment. And Yu Gwan-il's most dangerous move was that eerie thrust.
A technique with massive openings—but those were for Yu Gwan-il to bear, not him. No, the big gaps made it even better.
Of course, Yu Gwan-il had no idea what Muryangja was thinking. His Huye Sael cleaved the air far more sharply than before. Yu Jin-gwang countered with his own thrust.
'Last chance.'
But before Yu Gwan-il's sword reached Yu Jin-gwang, a blade erupted from Yu Gwan-il's abdomen, piercing straight through—and kept extending toward Yu Jin-gwang.
The sword bursting from his father's gut was Muryangja's.
Yu Gwan-il thrust silently, as if feeling no pain, but it wasn't his most perfect Huye Sael.
Fire blazed in Yu Jin-gwang's eyes. His father's end couldn't be like this, nor could his final chance to learn Huye Sael vanish this way.
Yu Jin-gwang ground his molars to dust.
'Better mutual destruction.'
Dang Mujin's group had shouldered needless risk for him and Jeomchang. If the result was this hollow, the proper path for a debtor was to forgo evasion and at least cut down Muryangja.
With death resolved, Yu Jin-gwang's sword targeted Muryangja's heart behind his father.
Muryangja's single eye flickered with faint surprise—and fainter fear—at the unexpected response.
Faint fear in Muryangja's gaze. Utter resolve for death in Yu Jin-gwang's, without a shred of regret.
As their eyes met, Yu Jin-gwang felt his consciousness expand.
Like shattering the peak realm wall—a sudden widening of vision? A towering barrier rising?
No.
Instead, he saw a desolate night sky and a narrow path. He and Yu Gwan-il stood on the path, but Muryangja seemed half a step off it.
Yu Jin-gwang looked up, tracing the path's end. It began with him, passed through Yu Gwan-il, and stretched endlessly into the night sky beyond.
Nothing visible at the end, yet instinct told him something waited there.
Perhaps this was why Daoists swung swords while debating enlightenment.
His body remained still, but in his mindscape, Yu Jin-gwang stepped forward. His father, one step ahead, and his own body dissolved like mist.
Taking his father's place, Yu Jin-gwang understood how to thrust the sword. His body moved on its own accord, striking toward whatever lay at the path's end.
It wasn't aimed precisely at the foe. Yet among the dozens, hundreds of thousands of thrusts before, none were this clean.
Not hasty. Yet no sword in his life had been faster.
He felt the blade slice air through his fingertips.
Before he thought he'd fully extended his arm, the tip had already arrived.
Yu Jin-gwang's sword snapped his father's worn blade, pierced his heart, and burrowed into Muryangja's heart behind.
"Uh...?"
The fear in Muryangja's eyes turned to the terror of death. But Yu Jin-gwang wasn't looking at him.
He gazed at his father's face. Amid the disheveled white hair, Yu Gwan-il's clear smile shone—a pure, satisfied grin he'd never seen in childhood.
Yu Gwan-il whispered to Yu Jin-gwang.
"As sect leader, I couldn't repay my debts. As a father, I couldn't either. But as a warrior, I have."
With those final words, Muryangja and Yu Gwan-il slumped to the ground.
Yu Jin-gwang dropped to his knees, embracing his father's body.
It was the moment the Six Venerables died, the moment one who transcended absolute peak yet never bore the title perished. And the moment a new warrior rose to claim it.
Yet Yu Jin-gwang wept for a long, long time.