The Hidden Dragons Emerge (2)
What is one's essence? Simple. A swordsman's lies in the sword. A fist master's in the fist.
So what is mine?
The thought struck me suddenly as I mastered various martial arts, grasping their essences, true meanings, and ultimate extremes.
Of course, they could all be my essence. All martial arts return to the source, after all. No matter which path you take, you arrive at the same destination.
Right. If that's the case, there's no need to detour through multiple arts just to find a single essence.
But I did decide on one thing: among all those arts, I needed to find an unshakable core to focus on.
The absolute foundation that never wavers! The last lifeline I could grasp even in the worst situations!
From that day, I selected one from the many martial arts I'd learned and honed it with special emphasis.
Shing.
Lower stance.
The sword slid from its sheath.
Jin Hwi blinked in confusion. 'Lower stance?'
Sword forms usually started from middle or upper stance. Simple reason: middle allowed attacks in any direction, upper unleashed maximum power.
But lower? Power flows downward. That's the natural way, the righteous path. Nothing in this world rises from below to above.
'You could force it, but...'
No point wasting energy on that. 'He's no fool.'
I'd never seen a sword form start from lower stance. As a fellow swordsman, it struck me as the absolute worst choice. Not just the inefficient power use, but the attacks that followed were painfully predictable.
'Only one form possible from lower stance.'
An upward slash. Unless it was an ultra-fast draw from the sheath, invisible to the eye. But a draw started with the blade still sheathed. His was already out.
'Foolish.'
With that thought, Jin Hwi swung at Namgung Daeso a beat slower than I-gwon's Hundred-Step Divine Fist would reach.
I-gwon locked eyes with Namgung Daeso straight ahead. He thought, studying the man's expression, 'Unreadable.'
Over a year since they'd met, but he'd never seen that look.
'Evade!'
Instinct's sharp warning made I-gwon abruptly retract his thrusting Hundred-Step Divine Fist.
'What?'
Jin Hwi's eyes widened. The bald monk had halted mid-technique.
His plan was disrupted. But Namgung Daeso was still staring at I-gwon.
'Strike now!'
Jin Hwi's sword stance swelled with fierce energy. Then, the intense aura suddenly blurred. His presence vanished.
Gwi-cheon’s eyes gleamed. Heaven-Splitting Killer Gwi-cheon. His sect was wiped out, but he'd been an elite assassin of the Killer Net.
Gwi-cheon shouted inwardly: 'Perfect!'
He'd devoted everything to the South Wild Beast Palace that sheltered him—a fugitive. Including techniques passed only to Killer Net elites.
Hidden Form Killing Shadow Art. The Killer Net's ultimate concealment, hiding form, presence, even shadow.
And Gwi-cheon had advanced it further. 'The Hidden Form Killing Shadow Art now conceals not just presence, but qi itself.'
Jin Hwi's figure blurred on the arena, blending seamlessly with surroundings until it vanished.
"Wh-what? He just disappeared?"
"What the hell?!"
A few late disciples watching cried out in shock.
But the experts just held their breath, staring intently at the arena.
Gwi-cheon glanced at others whose eyes also gleamed like his. With their low realm, perfect deception was impossible. Still, at that age, it was more than enough—overflowing, even.
His gaze shifted. 'Those are the old Murim powerhouses.'
They might recognize it as the Killer Net's Hidden Form Killing Shadow Art. 'But just a guess.'
Even if they did, no one left to prove it. As long as he kept silent, no one would know.
Contrary to Gwi-cheon's expectation, Ilseon Dosa spoke casually, without tension. "What's for lunch today?"
Daegalbak 44-ho from the Tang branch replied, "Heard it's 20-kind wild herb bibimbap."
"No wonder the Youngest Young Master looks so pissed."
Namgung Daeso's face seemed calm at a glance, but irritation flickered in his eyes. The other Daegalbak nodded. He hated wild herb dishes most.
"That technique looks familiar, doesn't it?"
Mujikja pointed at the arena. Impressive concealment for a late disciple—one that hid qi too, a first even for him.
But the Daegalbak brushed it off. "Psh, Sword Venerable. That's basic."
In the Namgung Clan—especially their goal—folks popped out of thin air without qi all the time.
Swoosh.
"Not bad, I suppose."
A face emerged from empty air, utterly silent. The Daegalbak yelped in surprise.
"Damn it!"
"Gave me a heart attack!"
"Please make some noise when you move! I've told you a million times you'll scare us to death!"
Amyeong Suho-dae's Susinhoeui 13-sa stared blankly at them. "The Sword Venerable and Fire Venerable knew I was here."
"That's 'cause it's them."
"The Patriarch and elders always do too."
"..."
No use talking.
Ilseon Dosa spoke up. "What brings you here?"
Amyeong Suho-dae were the Patriarch's direct guards. Their sole duty: protect him. So only one reason they'd be here.
Mujikja, like a spooked cat, scanned around warily. "Damn it! It came again?"
The omitted "who" was obvious to the Daegalbak.
13-sa looked down gravely, cautiously. They followed his gaze. Then his words...
"I'm off duty today."
The Daegalbak thought sincerely: Should we just kill him?
"Anyway, that art reeks of Killer Net."
"Killer Net?"
"Yeah. When I killed their Killer King, guys with similar arts swarmed me."
"What happened?"
Ilseon Dosa asked curiously. He'd suspected as much.
13-sa said it like he'd had a casual drink. "Their sloppy stealth pissed me off, so I killed 'em all. They were scum anyway."
'Ahem.'
Ilseon Dosa coughed lowly. These guys weren't normal. Though he agreed the Killer Net were scum.
13-sa murmured at the arena. "Picked up some street trick from the market, probably."
Impressive for a street trick.
"Middle Kingdom's full of junk arts," he added.
If Namgung said so, it was. The Daegalbak let it slide.
Why do all sword forms divide into lower, middle, upper stances? Even our liege split Three Talents Sword Method that way. Some special rule? Or something I don't know?
My answer was plain: 'People have different heights.'
Short against tall? Upper's comfy. Reverse? Lower. Similar height? Middle.
No need to force standardized stances. Don't fit to the stance—fit the stance to you. That was my swordplay starting point.
"Wind?"
I-gwon scanned the arena. No breeze anywhere. But wind was definitely blowing.
Wind is free. No up-down bounds. Before wind, lower-middle-upper mean nothing.
The Blood Unit Leader clenched his fist. Only he recognized Namgung Daeso's art first.
'Clear Wind Sword Method.' The Namgung Clan's introductory art, first step to containing the boundless sky.
Wind blew. I felt refreshingly cool. It whispered of the presence vanished behind me.
'Right arm upper, diagonal slash incoming.'
Shing.
I raised my lowered sword.
Clang!
Jin Hwi's eyes bulged. Namgung Daeso had turned and blocked his strike.
'Luck?'
He hadn't looked this way. No sense he'd pinpointed him. Just faint wind brushing his body.
'Yeah, pure luck.'
This time, he'd cut luck too. South Wild Beast Palace's young lord wouldn't reveal himself in qualifiers—or end without advancing.
'Fierce Tiger Severing Strike!'
Fierce Tiger Heaven-Shattering's killing blow, like a tiger's pounce.
Whoosh!
It flickered briefly, then hid again in that eerie motion.
But few here missed that glimpse.
'That late disciple's the young lord of South Wild Beast Palace—one of the Four Outer Palaces we've heard of.'
'A real heavyweight.'
'And his skills run deep.'
Sounds like praise. But...
'Tsk tsk, drew the Namgung Clan in his group.'
'Haven't seen that nightmare art in ages.'
The gathered Murim veterans shared an indelible memory etched in bone.
This wind had swept away what no effort of theirs could. Cool and refreshing as allies, typhoon-like as foes.
It banished demonic qi, upended the Central Plains.
"The wind blows."
Someone murmured. All chimed in.
"Damn..."
Some called it a bitch of a gale. Others, the clear wind that saved the Central Plains.
Many names. All for Clear Wind.
Namgung Daeso fully turned backward, swinging.
Clang!
Jin Hwi's strike blocked again. Then he felt wind piercing his exact spot.
I stared right at Jin Hwi, face twisted in disgust. "You're no tiger material. Real tigers never hide their bodies."
The white one I'd seen charged bare, guarding the mountain.
"Bullshit!"
Jin Hwi lunged again.
"Tsk tsk, won't listen."
Clear Wind Sword Method, First Form: Gentle Breeze, Yo-pung. The field-hidden tiger revealed.
'H-how?'
Jin Hwi's stealth shattered.
Second Form: Fierce Gale, Gang-pung. Razor winds assailed the exposed Jin Hwi.
He screamed, blocking futilely. No human stops wind. Wounds multiplied.
"Wind isn't blocked. You ride it."
Third Form: Wind's Edge, Pung-gyeol.
Normally ended here. Clear Wind was mere basics for boundless sky.
Shing.
But the sword kept moving. Wind halted abruptly.
Fourth Form: Windless Zone, Mu-pung.
'Impossible!'
Blood Unit Leader's eyes widened. Wind stopped. Silence. Only around the Youngest Young Master.
Jin Hwi's clothes flapped wildly, near tearing.
Wind returned. Arena-spanning gale.
Fifth Form: Typhoon, Tae-pung.
Blade-winds engulfed Jin Hwi, slashing relentlessly.
When it ceased, wounded Jin Hwi lay unconscious.
"Huh? One more left."
As Namgung Daeso glanced at I-gwon...
"Match over!"
Blood Unit Leader jumped up, declaring.
"Tch."
All semifinalists selected.