Chapter 269
Chapter 269
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 269
Chapter Title: Opening
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The righteous faction's martial artists entered the various buildings of the Kunlun Sect.
However, a few key experts, including the sect leaders of each faction, did not enter the buildings. Instead, they climbed onto the roof of the structure at the center of the Kunlun Sect.
Not to assist with the surprise attack, but to move immediately to wherever help was needed.
An eerie silence flowed.
It was the calm before a typhoon, the stillness of a beast eyeing its prey.
Dang Mujin stood motionless, imagining the situation inside the buildings.
The righteous faction's martial artists wouldn't be aware of what was happening in other buildings, so they were likely waiting in the darkness, swords drawn, for the signal.
The Zhongnan Sect Leader, One Line Master, spoke in a satisfied voice.
"Thanks to the Tang family head's efforts, things are off to a good start. Biryun, was it? Truly remarkable skill."
One Line Master made no effort to hide his pleasure.
However, Dang Mujin found the current situation a bit unfamiliar.
But ambushing sleeping unorthodox martial artists with swords drawn in the dark— it wasn't the image of righteous martial artists he typically envisioned.
Yet ideals and reality are always somewhat apart.
Righteous martial artists are human too. Very few would risk their lives and those of their fellow disciples just to preserve pride.
The Huashan Sect Leader, Sun Wooja, could be seen switching the sword in his right hand to his left, then wiping the sweat from his right palm on his pants.
Seeing this, One Line Master chuckled.
"Nervous?"
"Nonsense."
Hong Geolgae, standing nearby, spoke up.
"I didn't realize when I saw you at Mount Wudang, but you two seem quite close."
Sun Wooja furrowed his brow.
"Who said we're close?"
"I'm talking about you two sect leaders."
"You must have caught One Line Master's nonsense too. Be careful."
Sun Wooja replied curtly, and One Line Master chuckled.
"I wouldn't say we're close, but we've known each other for quite a while. Oh, do you know this? Sun Wooja has almost no real combat experience. He's probably a bit scared right now. See him wiping the sweat from his hands?"
Sun Wooja changed the subject, as if refusing to get drawn into the banter.
"Hong Geolgae. The Ghost King said he'd return next month, right?"
"That's what I heard."
"Good. I hope it ends without any issues."
Everyone fiddled with their weapons, waiting for the action to begin.
At that moment, a small commotion arose from one of the buildings to the west.
It wasn't a large sound. But in the quiet night, it was enough noise for the tense righteous martial artists to hear and react to.
Dang Mujin imagined the scene.
An unorthodox martial artist stirring in his sleep, sensing a presence.
A righteous Taoist swinging his sword without hesitation upon detecting the movement.
Blood sprays, followed by screams and shouts filling the building.
Just his imagination, but likely not far from reality.
The minor disturbance spread in an instant to every building of the Kunlun Sect.
Life and death hung in the balance as chaos erupted in all directions.
"..."
The men on the rooftop watched their surroundings without a word.
From the western building that had stirred first, righteous martial artists emerged with highly excited expressions. It seemed they had won without major issues.
But the other buildings were different. Like a dam bursting, righteous martial artists were pushed out of the buildings.
Clothed haphazardly, unorthodox martial artists poured out after them.
The unorthodox fighters unleashed fist and sword techniques, driving the righteous ones back.
"That way!"
"Let's go!"
Sun Wooja and One Line Master leaped off to support their sect's Taoists, followed by Young Heo-ja and Dang Mujin's friends charging into the fray.
"We'll head out too!"
"Yeah."
However, Dang Mujin remained standing calmly on the rooftop, steadily spinning his flying rings as he observed the situation.
One unorthodox martial artist snatched a Wudang Taoist’s sword and aimed to stab his chest. Clear terror flashed in the Wudang Taoist's eyes.
Dang Mujin moved his right arm.
The flying ring, infused with deep internal energy, sliced through the night sky and cleanly severed the unorthodox martial artist's neck.
The ring then returned to Dang Mujin's hand at his gesture.
Even in battle, few lose their heads so cleanly.
The most spectacular fountain of blood since the fight began sprayed high, drawing the eyes of many to the headless corpse.
"What? Who did that?"
Their gazes shifted to the Wudang Taoist collapsed before the body, then followed his line of sight to the rooftop.
There stood Dang Mujin, silhouetted against the half-moon.
The unorthodox martial artists didn't know who the man on the roof was or what trick had beheaded their comrade.
But one thing was clear: that young man wielded some horrific technique.
Not knowing exactly what it was made it all the more terrifying. Decapitating someone from dozens of paces away.
"Huff, huff!"
The Wudang Taoist whose life was saved gasped raggedly. Heat flared in his eyes.
The thrill of brushing death, the ecstasy of survival. A subtle hope that if he fell into danger again, Dang Mujin would hurl his ring.
Emboldened, the Wudang Taoist charged back into battle.
The stench of blood thickened. Occasionally, Dang Mujin's flying ring whistled through the field, severing necks.
The more this repeated, the more people glanced nervously at the rooftop.
To the righteous martial artists, the man on the roof was a reliable ally. To the unorthodox, he was terror incarnate—the fear that their heads might fly off at any moment.
They couldn't climb up to fight him either. Righteous martial artists blocked the building perimeter, preventing access to Dang Mujin.
Thanks to this, Dang Mujin could slowly survey the battlefield.
Namgung Myeong rampaged at the forefront with his treasured sword, while Hyun-gong dove into the most dangerous spots, single-handedly blocking multiple assaults to maintain balance.
This didn't mean Hyun-gong lagged behind Namgung Myeong. Each time Hyun-gong endured attacks and pressed forward steadfastly, the enemies' formation crumbled visibly.
'Where's Hong Geolgae?'
The somewhat worrisome Hong Geolgae fought well too. Unlike the others' bloody clashes, few could block his staff swings while he trod the Drunken Eight Immortal Steps.
'Of course. Hong Geolgae once landed a hit on Elder Jang with those Drunken Eight Immortal Steps.'
Beside Hong Geolgae, Young Heo-ja's disciple Jin Hae swung his sword in a trance. It seemed he'd gained enlightenment in real combat and stepped toward the next realm.
'Everyone's fighting well.'
Just as it seemed the battle would end in their favor, something unexpected happened.
A small building collapsed, revealing a stranger.
He held two short spears stained with blood in his hands.
Not ordinary thrusting spears, but ones with auxiliary side blades for slashing.
Young Heo-ja, returning to the roof, started in surprise.
"Twin Pole Blood Elder? That old coot's still alive?"
Unlike his physician days, Dang Mujin now knew most famous nicknames.
But he'd never heard of Twin Pole Blood Elder.
"Do you know him?"
"Over twenty years ago, during the Great Righteous-Unorthodox War, he was called an old monster. No word since, so I assumed he'd died of old age..."
Wondering if he'd achieved something like Fairy Hwayeon's rejuvenation, Dang Mujin watched Twin Pole Blood Elder closely.
But the wrinkles covering his face and hands showed no such feat.
When a transcendent expert appears, a transcendent expert must respond.
Young Heo-ja sighed.
"I was hoping for a breather, but looks like I have to fight again. Thought it'd be easy without the Ghost King..."
Twin Pole Blood Elder's prowess was so formidable that Young Heo-ja rushed back into the fray.
Each swing of his twin short spears sent righteous martial artists flying, crumbling the front line.
When Young Heo-ja finally clashed with Twin Pole Blood Elder, the line stabilized again.
'Huh?'
But it didn't mean they had the advantage. Contrary to expectations, Twin Pole Blood Elder held the upper hand against Young Heo-ja.
Twin Pole Blood Elder wasn't particularly strong or fast.
But he wielded the twin short spears more adeptly than his own arms.
He hooked the enemy's blade with the auxiliary blade on his left spear, pushing and pulling to expose the neck and heart to his right spear.
The spears crossed to block and deflect the sword, exploiting weapon length to behead someone nearby.
Truly, left hand equaled right, and right equaled left.
Bizarre, unpredictable strikes poured from the twin exotic weapons. Dang Mujin couldn't predict Twin Pole Blood Elder's next move.
Instead, Dang Mujin watched intently, waiting for an opening.
'Now!'
Dang Mujin hurled two flying rings.
They dove through the darkness, then sharply curved to strike Twin Pole Blood Elder's flanks simultaneously.
Twin Pole Blood Elder, blocking Young Heo-ja's frontal sword thrust, panicked at the sudden rings.
"Hup!"
He chose to block the two rings even if it meant taking Young Heo-ja's attack.
Swinging his spears and retreating, a sword wound etched across his chest from Young Heo-ja's blade.
But it wasn't deep. Twin Pole Blood Elder pointed his spear at the rooftop and bellowed.
"You insolent brat!"
Realizing Dang Mujin was the more troublesome foe than Young Heo-ja before him, Twin Pole Blood Elder turned to charge at him.
But his plan was thwarted from the start. Young Heo-ja sensed his intent and desperately blocked his movements.
Fuming to the tips of his hair, Twin Pole Blood Elder roared at Dang Mujin.
"You bastard! A young punk practicing sorcery!"
Answering in Dang Mujin's stead, Young Heo-ja drawled lazily.
"Oh? Sorcery, you say. The Tang family head merely wields a somewhat special weapon."
"How is that 'somewhat special'? It's sorcery by any measure!"
"You've wielded exotic weapons your whole life, yet can't accept others' exotic weapons? How narrow-minded."
Young Heo-ja led the fight with a somewhat leisurely demeanor.
Aiming not for victory but to endure made the battle far more comfortable.
Now, Young Heo-ja had no need to take Twin Pole Blood Elder's head himself. Just stall, and Dang Mujin would find the gap to end him.
As this delicate struggle continued, Young Heo-ja felt an unfamiliar sensation.
A chilling instinct. Perhaps what Twin Pole Blood Elder felt facing the rings.
'Something's coming from the right.'
Young Heo-ja desperately shook off Twin Pole Blood Elder, circling right and swinging his sword. But no one was there.
Only a monk in horse stance, knees slightly bent, about five paces away.
The monk said.
"I knew I'd catch something, but this is bigger than expected."
Young Heo-ja knew instinctively upon seeing him: that was the Ghost King.
The Ghost King remained in horse stance and extended his palm from five paces.
A human arm is less than half a pace, so his palm couldn't reach.
'What is this?'
Yet the next moment, Young Heo-ja felt as if a massive, transparent palm was descending upon him.
Not mere illusion—weeds on the ground were swept away and torn. Young Heo-ja hastily raised his sword, but it felt like something a sword couldn't block.
Thus, he retracted his sword and trusted instinct, sidestepping while guarding vitals with both arms and right leg.
An effective response, but clearly insufficient against this unknown technique.
Vomit surged up.
Young Heo-ja leaped back again, dropping to his knees and spewing blood. His internal injuries were severe.
Wiping his mouth, Young Heo-ja said.
"What the hell was that?"
The Ghost King grinned.
"Esoteric Great Hand Seal. You've never heard of it."
The Ghost King resumed his stance. Even with time to prepare, it was hard to block—but Young Heo-ja had no such luxury. Twin Pole Blood Elder charged again.
Twin Pole Blood Elder rushed gripping his spears.
The Ghost King unleashed another palm strike, heedless of Twin Pole Blood Elder's safety.
Severely injured and unable to perform at full strength, facing attacks from two transcendent experts.
"We're here!"
Aid arrived at the critical moment. Hyun-gong, Namgung Myeong, and Huashan Sect Leader Sun Wooja jumped in, intercepting Twin Pole Blood Elder's twin spears.
Hyun-gong excelled at defense, and Namgung Myeong's heavy sword wasn't swept by the spears' erratic movements.
Adding Sun Wooja's sword on top, the three could handle Twin Pole Blood Elder.
Finally, Dang Mujin's hurled ring disrupted the Ghost King's stance.
"You—that guy!"
The Ghost King hastily shifted stance, swinging at the ring. One grazed his side, but the other was caught in his grasp.
Only then was the Ghost King's palm visible—three times larger than a normal man's.
Dang Mujin frowned.
'What? His hands weren't that big before, were they?'
No time for pondering.
The Ghost King reset his stance and unleashed the Esoteric Great Hand Seal at Young Heo-ja.
Aiming to end the sole transcendent expert among the righteous here.
Young Heo-ja tried to stand and evade or defend, but his knees buckled, preventing him. Worse, Dang Mujin wasn't ready to throw again yet.
Young Heo-ja's heart sank.
'I'm dead...!'
As Young Heo-ja faced the Ghost King's massive palm, someone leaped before him: Zhongnan Sect Leader, One Line Master.
A thought flashed through Dang Mujin's mind.
'Is One Line Master, like Manryeok Sage, trying to break through the transcendent wall?'
One Line Master assumed horse stance like the Ghost King and thrust his palm forward.
Zhongnan Sect's supreme technique, Five Thunder True Seal.
Unlike Dang Mujin's eager anticipation, the Zhongnan martial artists felt a foreboding chill.
They had watched One Line Master's progress for decades.
His achievements far surpassed other Zhongnan Taoists, but against the Ghost King, it was clearly inadequate.
The Zhongnan Taoists prayed their instinct was wrong.
Or that One Line Master had hidden his true attainment, or that a miracle would occur.
But no miracle came. One Line Master hadn't leaped in hoping for a flimsy miracle.
One Line Master's feet planted firmly on the ground.
"Zhongnan Sect...!"
Before he could finish, immense pressure crushed him.
As if pressed under a giant palm.
One Line Master's extended wrist crumpled and twisted against the Esoteric Great Hand Seal. Before the Ghost King, he had no chance to display the Thirty-Six Swords of the World he'd honed his life for.
His elbows snapped backward next. Shoulders shattered and dislocated.
Yet One Line Master kept his eyes wide open, staring at the Ghost King as he lowered his stance slightly. He drew all his internal energy from his dantian. Tension filled his thighs.
Immense pressure bore down on One Line Master.
Like volunteering as a tiny wall, he met the Esoteric Great Hand Seal with his entire body.
Kneeling, Young Heo-ja shielded his face with his arms against the wind, gazing at One Line Master's back.
"..."
When the pressure finally lifted, One Line Master glanced back slightly.
His chest was unnaturally caved in. Clearly, all ribs broken.
The Zhongnan Taoists' hearts sank.
Regret filled One Line Master's expression.
Yet it also showed the pride of a Zhongnan martial artist. The face of one who hadn't retreated and fulfilled his role.
One Line Master pondered.
What to say at the end.
Two transcendent experts opposed them. They had one—but Young Heo-ja couldn't fight at full strength.
The words were decided.
With lungs torn to shreds, unable to speak, One Line Master mouthed them.
Flee.
No sound emerged, yet everyone heard One Line Master's voice.
One Line Master collapsed lifelessly.
Only then did people realize the Great Righteous-Unorthodox War had begun.