Chapter 133
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: Not My Disciple
Ha Mu-baek's eyebrow twitched.
That guy called Beom Il-so.
I'd thought he had some decent skill, but I hadn't expected him to be this good.
What the Infinite Bright Wheel Eye could perceive was the type and quantity of an opponent's internal energy, along with its flow.
There'd been no reason for Ha Mu-baek to scrutinize Beom Il-so with it from the start.
He'd simply observed him while watching the Youth Combat Festival.
His conclusion from witnessing the swordsmanship in the round of 16? "Very impressive."
He was definitely superior to that kid Mok Cheong-san.
But he hadn't realized it was to this extent.
It had been a long time since he'd seen someone surpass his expectations.
"That's incredible, isn't it?"
Gong Son Mu-oe asked in admiration as well.
The Heavenly Sword Sect's Heavenly Cycle Thousand Wave Sword was a famed ultimate technique even in the martial world.
It was invariably mentioned among the world's finest sword arts.
Though the Great Wave Immortal Sword Style was hailed as one of the world's supreme arts, Gong Son Mu-oe knew it couldn't compare to the Heavenly Cycle Thousand Wave Sword.
To wield such an exceptional sword art at that age, reaching such a profound realm.
"Indeed. For someone that young to execute nine forms so masterfully... I'm quite surprised myself."
Ha Mu-baek affirmed Gong Son Mu-oe's words.
"Your disciple might be in a tough spot this time."
"...He's not my disciple. Still, that kid surprised me a bit too, back in the day."
Ha Mu-baek refrained from jumping to conclusions.
Dan Mok Un-roe was undoubtedly facing a formidable opponent at his level.
But given the unexpected sides Dan Mok Un-roe had shown so far—and especially how he'd transformed lately upon awakening to his own talent...
Ha Mu-baek decided to watch a little longer.
Dan Mok Un-roe gazed at the one hundred fifty-six sword shadows bearing down on him.
It was a spectacle that almost tricked the eye into thinking he'd been trapped in an ocean of blades.
He couldn't afford to stare dumbfounded at his foe's sword.
The instant Beom Il-so shook out his blade, Dan Mok Un-roe moved.
Just as he'd trained so rigorously.
Matching the movements of the Three Talents Sword Method.
But.
Faster.
More.
Stronger.
He shook his sword and propelled his body forward.
Dan Mok Un-roe's form began leaving afterimages.
If Beom Il-so had conjured one hundred fifty-six sword shadows, Dan Mok Un-roe's form split into two, then four.
Those proliferating forms wielded their swords with lightning speed.
Chaeng!
Chae-chaeng!
Chaeng!
The clashing of steel rang out deafeningly.
Dan Mok Un-roe poured all his focus into confronting the oncoming sea of swords.
Beom Il-so's lips curled upward.
He'd already considered him no pushover when he'd bested Senior Brother Mok Cheong-san.
Yet here he was, blocking his Heavenly Cycle Thousand Wave Sword while unveiling a whole new side.
One hundred fifty-six sword shadows from nine forms—that was the best Beom Il-so could muster.
And yet this punk was holding it off. All while growing stronger mid-clash.
He could tell from the kid's eyes.
His concentration peaked, on the verge of entering a trance.
Right now, he was reaching that state.
He was the one spurring his enemy's growth.
Beom Il-so ground his teeth.
'I can't just let that happen.'
His hands moved even faster.
His dantian continuously spewed internal energy.
The sword's motions grew slicker still.
No sooner had the one hundred fifty-six sword shadows faded than they reformed, assailing Dan Mok Un-roe.
Waves crashing in a sea of blades.
No—a tsunami of swords.
Amid it, Dan Mok Un-roe blocked Beom Il-so's onslaught even faster, even stronger.
His eyes, half-lidded and unfocused.
He wielded his sword in a state half-entered into trance.
The reason he hadn't fully attained it was simple.
He kept scrutinizing Beom Il-so's blade without cease.
A break in the flow.
There had to be one. He believed it and sought it.
"Th-that..."
Gong Son Mu-oe's jaw dropped as he watched their exchange.
He could scarcely believe his eyes.
Wasn't this just like reliving the duel between Baek Ri-pyeong and Namgung Ji-hu?
A clash where each spurred the other's growth.
He'd been impressed by Beom Il-so's prowess, but Dan Mok Un-roe was rising to match it.
Ha Mu-baek watched with a grin.
The kid who'd surprised him time and again.
Growing right before his eyes.
That talent was truly astonishing.
'I wonder about Yeon Ha-min.'
Ha Mu-baek rated her as possessing talent equal to—if not surpassing—Dan Mok Un-roe's.
Though she hadn't awakened it yet.
Even now, hadn't she bested Namgung Ji-yu?
"Kids that age are full of surprises. Give them the spark, and they develop like wildfire."
Ha Mu-baek remarked calmly.
His words encompassed both Dan Mok Un-roe and Beom Il-so.
Changes were emerging in Beom Il-so's swordplay too.
Countering Dan Mok Un-roe's methods with like responses.
Faster.
More.
Stronger.
The sword shadows now numbered four hundred.
The Heavenly Cycle Thousand Wave Sword's tenth form.
It required five hundred twelve sword shadows.
Beom Il-so's rendition fell short, of course.
And it deviated from the orthodox progression of the Heavenly Cycle Thousand Wave Sword.
The proper path of the Heavenly Sword Sect was to shatter the wall of one hundred fifty-six and leap straight to five hundred twelve.
Yet Beom Il-so was multiplying his sword shadows along an entirely different trajectory.
"Th-that... Of course. He's veered into the unorthodox path. That's how he pulled it off. Right, no orthodox disciple could've reached that realm with such wastrel ways."
Mok Cheong-san snarled through gritted teeth at the sight.
His junior with inferior talent, less diligent than him.
He thought he'd finally pinpointed why that junior had surpassed his own realm.
Beom Il-so's eyes lost focus too.
He knew Dan Mok Un-roe was entering a trance but hadn't realized he was slipping into the same state.
Thus, the two threw everything into toppling the other.
Chaeng! Chae-cha-cha-cha-chaeng! Chaeng!
Chaeng-chaeng!
The ceaseless, thunderous clashes of steel rang without pause.
Like a melody played without interruption.
Inevitable, given the myriad sword shadows colliding.
How long did they clash?
When Beom Il-so's sword shadows hit four hundred two.
A gap appeared in Dan Mok Un-roe's vision.
He swung toward it without hesitation.
In his duel with Mok Cheong-san, even spotting a gap, he'd lacked the prowess to exploit it—waiting instead for a bigger one.
Not this time.
Dan Mok Un-roe seized the fleeting opening.
Chae-aeng!
A harsh ring echoed as Beom Il-so's blade veered wildly off its sword path.
Simultaneously, the four hundred two sword shadows vanished like mist.
Dan Mok Un-roe pressed forward without stopping, closing into Beom Il-so's guard.
Their swords now too close to strike each other.
His left arm snapped out, tracing the Three Talents Fist Method's trajectory.
Thwuck!
His left fist smashed squarely into Beom Il-so's lower jaw.
"Kuhk."
His head snapped back from the shock.
Beom Il-so staggered a step, trying to whip his sword around—but his body ignored the command.
A moment of one move, myriad variations.
His body had slipped his control.
Dan Mok Un-roe spun, his right foot whipping up to slam Beom Il-so's head.
"Kuheuk."
Beom Il-so screamed and crumpled to the ground. Such was the kick's power.
Before he could rise, Dan Mok Un-roe's sword halted at his brow.
Beom Il-so froze in that instant.
He'd lost.
A straight clash of skill against skill.
At the start, he'd been certain he held the edge.
Even without letting his guard down, he'd unleashed his utmost.
Yet the punk overcame it, growing in a flash.
"Hoo. I lose."
Beom Il-so conceded defeat.
Dan Mok Un-roe sheathed his sword and extended his left hand again.
Beom Il-so clasped it and rose.
Focus had already returned to their eyes.
"Huaaaah."
"Woooaaahhh!!!"
"Amazing!!!!"
The moment the judge declared Dan Mok Un-roe's victory, the crowd's colossal roar erupted.
They'd forgotten to breathe, utterly absorbed in the blistering exchange.
Most hadn't even caught it all with their eyes.
Yet they knew.
It had been an insanely fast, insanely high-level clash.
That knowledge birthed this thunderous ovation.
The two descended the arena together.
Residual shock from Dan Mok Un-roe's final blows still lingered in Beom Il-so.
"That last kick felt a bit personal, didn't it?"
Descending, Beom Il-so tossed out a gruff jab.
"You think I had the mind for that?"
Dan Mok Un-roe shook his head.
Still, Beom Il-so eyed him suspiciously.
It had clearly differed from his initial fist technique.
That'd wrung the pathetic yelp from him.
The round of eight concluded.
Baek Ri-pyeong, Yeon Ha-min, Joo Woo-myeong, Dan Mok Un-roe.
The semifinals' contenders were set, and the results stunned.
All Youth Combat Festival semifinalists from the Fierce Dragon Corps.
Unprecedented since the Dragon Training Pavilion's founding.
The festival belonged to the Hidden Dragon Corps and Wa Dragon Corps.
Today's outcome shattered norms beyond shock.
"Heh heh. Impressive."
Pavilion Lord Pang Do-yul chuckled.
The round of eight had been a nonstop thrill ride of epic duels.
Worthily so.
Any winner among those eight wouldn't have been surprising.
And all victors hailed from the Fierce Dragon Corps.
In past festivals, any of those eight could've claimed the crown.
This year's upheaval was seismic.
"Corps Leader Sang, your thoughts?"
Pang Do-yul asked Sang Gyeong-mun.
"Many standouts. I never dreamed of witnessing Man-gae's technique, let alone nine forms of the Heavenly Cycle Thousand Wave Sword."
Pang Do-yul nodded emphatically at his words. He felt the same.
"But they all fell."
Sang Gyeong-mun's face twisted at Pang Do-yul's remark.
"Wudang's sword was formidable,"
Neung U-dam said in astonishment. As a Huashan native, he'd favored Man-gae's Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword.
Yet he'd felled Yeong Ho-jun without drawing the Taiji Radiant Sword.
"Truly Wudang's finest talent."
Neung U-dam spoke in pure admiration, origins aside.
"So, between those two, who takes the title?"
Pang Do-yul inquired.
"Baek Ri-pyeong."
"Joo Woo-myeong."
Sang Gyeong-mun and Neung U-dam split.
One point united them.
Their picks hailed from the Nine Great Sects.
Zhongnan and Wudang, respectively.
Their final shred of pride.
The round of eight ended; lunchtime arrived.
A simple meal and rest preceded the semis.
Those who'd fought fiercely needed recovery time.
Semifinalists circulated energy.
Even early duelists had delayed, watching the rest.
"Who do you think wins it all?"
Gong Son Mu-oe asked Ha Mu-baek.
"Who does the Pavilion Lord favor?"
Ha Mu-baek countered.
"From what I've seen, that Dan Mok Un-roe kid. His growth with every match is astounding."
Ha Mu-baek nodded at Gong Son Mu-oe's answer.
The latest duel must've left a deep mark.
"And you?"
Gong Son Mu-oe pressed.
"Hard to say. We'll see when they clash."
Ha Mu-baek dodged subtly.
He already envisioned the outcome but kept it to himself.
All four had passed through his hands, after all.
"Fair enough. Still, I'd love for that Dan Mok Un-roe kid to win. He'll be joining us soon enough."
"Joining us?"
Ha Mu-baek cocked his head at Gong Son Mu-oe's words.