Chapter 270
Chapter 270
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 270
Chapter Title: Opening
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Silence descended.
This silence was a little different from the one before the battle began. It wasn't the tense hush on the verge of bursting, but rather one where everything seemed to have converged into a single point.
"...Ilsun-ja?"
The Mount Hua Sect leader, Suneu-ja, muttered in bewilderment.
Even putting it kindly, the two weren't friends. Good fortune for the other brought quiet pangs of envy rather than joy.
That said, Ilsun-ja and Suneu-ja weren't enemies.
They were more like rivals or distant traveling companions.
For over thirty years, they had watched each other warily from parallel paths, locked in subtle competition.
In a way, it might have been nothing at all.
But such a long-standing relationship inevitably left an empty space in each of them, for better or worse.
Suneu-ja couldn't flee as Ilsun-ja had urged.
Instead, strength flooded into the hand gripping his sword.
Ilsun-ja's sacrifice was heroic, but a touch shortsighted.
If he'd told them to fake defeat with minor wounds and retreat, they might have obliged. But with him dead right before their eyes, withdrawal was no simple matter.
Suneu-ja couldn't escape this place, but the Zhongnan Sect Taoists were even less able to. Fleeing after witnessing their sect leader's death would be an unforgivable disgrace.
Just as the Zhongnan Sect warriors couldn't shake off Ilsun-ja's death, the Mount Hua Sect Taoists couldn't abandon Suneu-ja and run.
With more than half now trapped on the battlefield, the Qingcheng Sect and Wudang Sect warriors couldn't withdraw either. Everyone had shackled everyone else.
Suneu-ja growled through gritted teeth.
"Even if we retreat, I won't go without landing one strike first. It'll sit better that way."
Suneu-ja had been clashing with the Twin Pole Blood Elder up to now, but he abruptly changed course and charged the Ghost King. Hyeon-gong cried out urgently.
"Stop!"
Yet anyone could see Suneu-ja had no intention of stopping.
If they let him go like this, they'd surely have to cart off his corpse too. Hyeon-gong dashed toward the Ghost King as well.
Suddenly, Namgung Myeong was left alone to face the Twin Pole Blood Elder. He shouted.
"Hey, Hyeon-gong! What am I supposed to do?"
"Just hold on a little longer!"
While Namgung Myeong parried the Twin Pole Blood Elder's short spears a couple of times, Hong Geolgae came rushing in from somewhere to stand at his side.
Thanks to him, the two managed—precariously—to withstand the Twin Pole Blood Elder's onslaught.
"Die!"
Suneu-ja swung his sword at the Ghost King in fury.
But raw anger alone couldn't reverse the tide of battle.
No matter their resolve, Suneu-ja and Hyeon-gong were peak experts, while the Ghost King remained a transcendent master.
Just as Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae were being pushed back by the Twin Pole Blood Elder, Hyeon-gong and Suneu-ja couldn't hold their own against the Ghost King.
Hyeon-gong glanced behind him. Yeongheo-ja was still hacking up blood. He was in no state to fight.
They held on desperately, careful to allow no fatal blows.
The fact they hadn't crumbled yet was thanks to Dang Mujin's flying wheels swooping in at intervals to exploit the openings of the Ghost King and Twin Pole Blood Elder.
Even to those two transcendent masters, the flying wheels were a hidden weapon far trickier than expected.
Faster than daggers, stealthier, more menacing. No matter how transcendent, a single misstep could cost their lives.
Of course, for five peak experts to hold off two transcendent masters was an impressive feat in itself.
The problem was that impressive feats didn't guarantee victory. They merely meant a slightly slower defeat.
Dang Mujin thought to himself as he scattered his flying wheels.
'The situation's grim.'
With this much force, they could probably suppress one transcendent master. But two was too much. Defeat loomed palpably before them.
Yet retreat wasn't an option.
It was far too late to pull back cleanly. If the five holding the line retreated belatedly, it was obvious that either the Twin Pole Blood Elder or the Ghost King would plunge straight into the heart of the battlefield.
Even one of them breaking free would spell disaster.
The righteous faction's experts who had crossed the peak threshold might survive a few exchanges and preserve their lives. But those below first-rate would scatter like dry leaves in the wind—swept away one per strike.
Dang Mujin and his friends weren't the only ones harboring that quiet regret. Even Suneu-ja felt the same.
'If only Yeongheo-ja were still in fighting shape!'
The battle's outcome had essentially been sealed the moment the Ghost King ambushed and brought Yeongheo-ja down. Yeongheo-ja himself keenly felt his responsibility.
He spat out another gush of blood rising to his throat, drew a deep breath, and bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"Get your heads straight! Anyone who can, fall back! Don't worry about the rest!"
His voice rang out thunderously. A few warriors, suddenly mindful of their lives, hesitated.
But it was far too late. The evil faction warriors, convinced of their momentum, clung desperately to the righteous ones.
If everyone fled at once, some might survive. But that wasn't possible now. Willing or not, they had to fight to the end.
The battle dragged on. The sporadic exchanges of words amid the fighters fell completely silent.
The Kongtong Sect grounds echoed only with ragged breaths and clashing metal.
Half-lost in a trance, Dang Mujin kept throwing and retrieving his flying wheels.
He had been handling two on a razor's edge, but at some point, that became three.
His mind felt slightly hazy, like he was drunk.
Lacking confidence he could manage three with a clear head, Dang Mujin deliberately maintained the haze—like intoxication from the battlefield's heat and clamor.
Metal struck metal. Screams rang out.
Sweat trickled down his spine.
His chest felt stuffy, and the acrid stench of blood filled the air.
Never before had Dang Mujin taken part in a battle this massive.
'Is this what a righteous-evil war is like?'
A dizzying stretch of time dragged by.
The righteous warriors were too busy preserving their own lives to fully block the evil faction climbers from reaching the rooftop where Dang Mujin held position.
As a result, even as he hurled his flying wheels, Dang Mujin occasionally had to draw his sword to fend off evil faction foes who scaled the roof.
'The rooftop's too exposed.'
But he couldn't come down. Visibility would suffer too much, and handling the wheels would grow difficult.
'Can't do it up here, can't do it down there. Damn it all.'
In the midst of it, a sound utterly unlike clashing metal rang out. A dull thud.
Thump.
Most were too absorbed in their fights to notice, but Dang Mujin heard it.
His role was to survey the wide battlefield and extend aid where needed, so he kept all his senses wide open.
Dang Mujin's gaze turned toward the sound's origin.
There stood the Kongtong Sect's main gate, and three figures entering it. The thud seemed to come from kicking the gate open.
The newcomers wore matching attire. Familiar garb, at that.
Dang Mujin studied their faces. The two in the rear were strangers, but the leader up front was unmistakable. Yu Jingwang.
Yu Jingwang scanned the battlefield, spotted Dang Mujin on the rooftop, and sent a transmission.
-What a mess. If it was gonna be like this, why not send a carrier pigeon to the Jeomchang Sect?
-We didn't expect it to reach this scale.
Yu Jingwang grinned, then began a bizarre maneuver with his two followers.
They started walking in a straight line—toward Dang Mujin's building, and beyond him, straight at the Ghost King and Twin Pole Blood Elder.
Advancing in a straight line through this chaos was no easy task.
It demanded exceptional skill, and there was no reason to attempt it. Dodging fights on the sly was far easier and safer.
Yet the three acted as if blind to the surrounding slaughter.
They strode straight ahead amid the tangled, erratic curves of countless blades.
Their everyday demeanor in such an unnatural place felt profoundly eerie.
Unintentionally, some tried to bar their path. An evil faction warrior, lost in his own fight, crossed their way.
Yu Jingwang drew his sword and casually slashed the man down. His steps never faltered.
Hong Geolgae, even as he battled the Twin Pole Blood Elder, kept glancing around for openings. His eyes met Yu Jingwang's.
He spoke to Namgung Myeong at his side.
"Yu Daxia's here!"
Namgung Myeong glanced back. Delight lit his face.
Yu Jingwang raised his right hand, pointed at Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong, then at the Ghost King.
A simple signal, no transmission needed.
'Leave the Twin Pole Blood Elder to me. Just tie up the Ghost King for a bit.'
Even the Ghost King couldn't endure a joint assault from four upper-echelon peak experts. All the more with flying wheels liable to strike at any moment.
As Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong pulled back to gang up on the Ghost King, he shouted in panic.
"Grab them!"
The Twin Pole Blood Elder didn't sit idle. He thrust his twin short spears at the retreating pair.
Yu Jingwang drew his sword and hurled it straight at the Twin Pole Blood Elder.
Clang!
The Twin Pole Blood Elder whipped his spears to bat away the incoming blade, then rubbed his wrist.
"And who the hell are you?"
Yu Jingwang gave no reply. He gestured to Dang Mujin on the rooftop.
Having tossed his own sword, he was asking to borrow one. Dang Mujin roughly wiped the bloodied blade on a corpse's clothing and flung it over.
"Catch!"
Yu Jingwang caught the tossed sword and swung it experimentally in the air a couple times.
A natural smile bloomed on his face.
"Best sword I've ever wielded. Feels like it's gliding through the air."
His two followers then leaped onto the rooftop to guard the now swordless Dang Mujin.
Left alone, Yu Jingwang resumed his straight-line advance. Soon enough, he faced off against the Twin Pole Blood Elder.
"Huuu..."
The Twin Pole Blood Elder let out a low sigh. As always, he began manipulating his twin short spears in bizarre patterns, probing for openings.
Movements so flashy they made the eyes spin just watching.
The spears traced unpredictable paths, ready to coil around and twist the opponent's sword trajectory, leaving it lost.
Yu Jingwang observed for a brief moment before passing judgment.
"Twisting around like an ass."
Then, without warning, he thrust his sword.
Swordplay typically featured flow and flexibility, which the Twin Pole Blood Elder's signature Vortex Pole twisted to his advantage, dominating the rhythm.
He naturally assumed Yu Jingwang's sword would have a flow too. Every opponent so far had.
But Yu Jingwang's sword had no flow whatsoever. Only the shortest distance at the highest speed. Nothing more.
With no flow to lead astray, it was the absolute worst matchup.
On top of that, the sword in Yu Jingwang's hand was no ordinary piece.
Swords usually glanced off the round spear shafts, but this one dug straight in.
...!
The Twin Pole Blood Elder yanked back his spear in haste and twisted his body. His sleeve tore open with a rip.
'Can't retreat on bad terms.'
Being pushed so one-sidedly would sour the rest of the fight—in momentum and numbers alike.
Thus, even as he evaded the attack, he extended a spear along an unavoidable arc.
'Right shoulder!'
But Yu Jingwang made no move to guard his shoulder. Instead, he swiftly withdrew and thrust again.
As if offering up his shoulder to go for the Twin Pole Blood Elder's heart.
Those ignorant of martial arts imagine fights proceed this way.
Giving flesh to take bone, bone to take life.
But contrary to laymen's notions, this was no ordinary warrior's response.
What fighter, right out of the gate against a stranger, aims for mutual destruction?
In the end, the Twin Pole Blood Elder twisted away again. A thin trickle of blood ran down his left arm.
He bellowed.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!"
"What else? My sword's faster than your attacks, so no reason to fear."
"You mad bastard! You won't come out of this unscathed. Think I'm dodging 'cause I'm weaker? If you fight expecting a cut, I can take your neck too!"
"Haha!"
Yu Jingwang let out a short burst of laughter.
The next instant, the mirth vanished from his face.
He spoke.
"Then shut your trap and let's both die, eh?"
People naturally panic in the face of the unexpected.
Feeling crushed by Yu Jingwang's bizarre presence, the Twin Pole Blood Elder lunged with his spears.
Target: the head.
A simple, foolproof judgment.
'There might be fools who offer a shoulder for a heart, but none offer their head to pierce an enemy's.'
Yet against expectation, Yu Jingwang's sword came thrusting back.
Twin Pole Blood Elder's spears and Yu Jingwang's sword crossed without clashing. In that moment, he met Yu Jingwang's eyes.
And realized the talk of dying together was no bluff.
'Mad bastard!'
The Twin Pole Blood Elder twisted away in horror.
Yu Jingwang's sword bit deep into his side, but Yu Jingwang wasn't unscathed either.
The auxiliary blade affixed to the spear grazed from beside his right eye, across the temple, and split the center of his right ear.
Any human would shut their eyes in such a spot. Every martial artist he'd ever faced had.
It should have been no different now, yet Yu Jingwang kept his eyes open amid it all, staring down the Twin Pole Blood Elder.
The Twin Pole Blood Elder found that gaze utterly chilling.
'This make any sense?'
Blood seeped from the Twin Pole Blood Elder's side, soaking his clothes. Yu Jingwang's right face was drenched in it.
Yu Jingwang made no move to wipe it away. He spoke, his tone subtly pleased.
"That's why I love when my sword outpaces theirs. Feels like being a merchant who never takes a loss."
"A loss?"
"If the enemy dies, it's profit. If we both go, it's break-even. Right?"
The Twin Pole Blood Elder realized the fight's true gravest issue.
Before that, differences in skill or matchup were comparatively trivial.
The biggest problem was that Yu Jingwang was a madman!
The Twin Pole Blood Elder changed his mind.
'...Need to get out of here first.'
He had zero desire to keep fighting a lunatic like this.
He was too old; his shot at reversal of age was at most two or three years away.
The reason he'd come to Kongtong Mountain and stayed was to gain enlightenment from the martial art the Ghost King promised to teach, extending his lifespan.
He desperately needed that enlightenment and reversal, but tangling here meant dying to a madman's blade rather than old age. No choice.
'What kinda lunatic pops out of nowhere!'
Without long deliberation, the Twin Pole Blood Elder spun and fled.
Just as naturally, Yu Jingwang's sword targeted his back.
Yu Jingwang didn't strike backs, but fleeing foes were the exception.
The Twin Pole Blood Elder tried to shove the sword aside cleverly. But a familiar, chilling sensation closed in from the side.
A circular blade—a flying wheel—hurtling toward his right arm.
'Give up the right arm, or the sword behind for the heart.'
No need to deliberate.
The Twin Pole Blood Elder's spears shoved aside Yu Jingwang's sword. The wheel flew in and grazed his right arm.
It severed with pristine cleanness.
Yet the Twin Pole Blood Elder felt no pain. He was too panicked and adrenalized.
'Alive, at least!'
Like a lizard dropping its tail to escape, he abandoned his right arm and vanished beyond the Kongtong Sect walls.
The Ghost King was no different. Like most transcendent masters, he knew when to preserve himself in danger.
He unleashed his Mudra of Suppressing Hordes with desperate fury, shoving off the four clinging to him, then fled like a madman.
This was the second time watching him flee. Last time, he'd bolted upon spotting Huayeon Divine Nun.
"Um...!"
With their leaders gone, the evil faction warriors began pulling back in haste.
They couldn't afford a leisurely fighting retreat. No need to wait for Yu Jingwang or Suneu-ja—they had to escape before the flying wheels arrived.
Fleeing with no regard for defense. Numerous evil faction warriors died in the process.
Yet a fair number of evil faction survivors melted away into the trees of Kongtong Mountain.
At last, the clashing metal in the Kongtong Sect fell silent. The eastern sky began to lighten dimly.
Yu Jingwang hopped onto the rooftop with Dang Mujin and returned the sword.
"A bit late, but lucky I showed up, huh?"
"Obviously. How'd you know to come?"
"How? The Jeomchang Sect's never sat out a righteous-evil war."
Dang Mujin gazed at Yu Jingwang with a faint smile.
He let out a deep breath and stretched his waist taut. A refreshing ache spread through him.
After hurling flying wheels all night, his dantian felt utterly drained, and his hands tingled.
Dang Mujin leaped down from the roof to check Ilsun-ja's body.
As expected, long cold and stiff. Zhongnan Sect warriors rushed over, cradling the corpse and shedding tears.
Dang Mujin took in the sight, then surveyed the surroundings. Most had collapsed in exhaustion. Namgung Myeong, Hyeon-gong, and Hong Geolgae were no exceptions.
Amid it, something caught Dang Mujin's eye. The Twin Pole Blood Elder's shriveled right arm.
He held it out to Namgung Myeong.
"Here. You said you lost an arm, so I got you a new one."
"...That's a right arm."
"Two rights. Now that's real character. Can't wait to see what nickname you earn."
Namgung Myeong's moniker was Divine Thrower.
But few knew it belonged to him. Most figured he had none yet, so a new one would stick eventually.
Dang Mujin was offering warm consideration for his friend.
Namgung Myeong waved it off indifferently, uninterested.
"Don't need that kinda nickname."
"Think about it seriously. You'd be the only one wielding right-hand swordplay with your left. No one would see it coming."
"Now that you mention it, kinda intriguing."
Hong Geolgae and Hyeon-gong, overhearing, chuckled softly.
Dang Mujin plopped down beside his friends, then promptly sprawled out flat.
The blood-soaked earth, turned red, felt as soft and comforting as a plush bed.
Unbidden, Dang Mujin slipped into sleep.