Chapter 95 - Jong Jihang

The man in blue spoke softly. There was something strangely chilling about his halting words.

But with his sword already halfway out, Woo Shimgi had no choice but to finish drawing it. He had already been humiliated once. If he sheathed his sword now without drawing it fully, or forgave his opponent, he felt he would never be able to hold his head up before his junior disciples or Lady Hwa again.

Woo Shimgi finally drew his sword. No, he tried to.

When the blade was eight or nine tenths of the way out, the man in blue finally moved.

It was a bizarre movement technique. His feet were clearly touching the ground, yet he seemed to slide forward, stepping on thin air. Stranger still, his footwork seemed to follow a fixed pattern—something like a formation—and a set of rules, yet appeared utterly chaotic. And it was astonishingly fast. So fast that his body became several streaks of blue afterimages.

Just seven steps.

Seven steps that seemed like a single step.

The man in blue stood before Woo Shimgi. Woo Shimgi's sword was still not fully drawn. By contrast, the man in blue already held his longsword, though no one had seen him draw it. The flat near its tip was descending on the end of Woo Shimgi's sword hilt from behind.

BANG!

Still in the posture of drawing his sword, Woo Shimgi was forced to sheath it again.

The man's longsword did not stop there. Having driven Woo Shimgi's sword back into place, it rose to roughly the height of his neck, then swept swiftly around it as though peeling a piece of fruit in one continuous strip.

SWISH!

His neck had been cut. Not severed completely, but scored with a thin line all the way around, as though a strip had been carved from it. Naturally, blood seeped from Woo Shimgi's neck like juice from fruit and streamed down below it.

His screams proved he was not dead. But the pain and terror... were horrific. If the man could cut around his neck, he could have killed him whenever he pleased. Woo Shimgi sank to the ground, leaking not just blood but urine.

"You bastard...!"

Only then did the Mount Hua and Kunlun disciples react. Yet not one of them could move as nimbly as the man in blue.

Moving as though tracing the Big Dipper, he inflicted the same wound he had given Woo Shimgi on every one of their necks.

Soon they were all clutching their throats and writhing on the ground like Woo Shimgi.

Even after reducing the full disciples of Mount Hua and Kunlun to such a state, the man's face remained utterly cold and stern, as though none of it concerned him.

Then he turned to continue on his way.

"Wait!"

A woman in colorful robes emerged from Clear Waters Pavilion, her figure swaying as gracefully as a plum-blossom petal, and brought him to a halt once more.

The sword she carried, with its red tassel, left no doubt that she was a Mount Hua disciple.

"You still have me to face. If you mean to simply leave..."

"I don't... draw... against women..."

Without even turning, the man in blue interrupted her.

Had his claim that he would not draw his sword against a woman wounded her pride? Looking offended, the beauty raised her eyebrows, straight as sharpened blades, into an angry slant and shouted.

"Are you looking down on me because I'm a woman?!"

With slow, unhurried steps, the man in blue resumed walking toward the wharf instead of answering. That was answer enough.

"Stop! If you don't, my sword—the sword of Hwa Yeji—will show you no mercy—!"

Only when Hwa Yeji drew her sword did the man move. Once again, he followed the seven paths of the Big Dipper as he approached her. He was so fast that his body seemed to stretch.

Unlike before, he did not draw his longsword. He merely raised his right hand, extended his index finger, and poked her forehead. Then came his awkward words.

"Got... you... I'm... stronger. Than you..."

Hwa Yeji could say nothing.

Seen up close, the man's eyes were extraordinarily clear. So clear that they reflected her exactly as she was. She felt that her present self, reflected in those eyes, was terribly ugly.

The man in blue curled back the finger that had cut Hwa Yeji's heart, then walked toward the wharf again.

"W-what is your name?"

Her sudden question brought him to a halt again. He lowered his head, as though he could not remember his own name.

Everyone there had their eyes and ears turned toward him. It was an unremarkable gesture, yet he possessed a strange power to draw every gaze.

"Jong... Jihang... Probably..."

Jong Jihang. Leaving those three syllables behind, he soon traveled so far that he could no longer be seen from Clear Waters Pavilion.

"Jong... Ji... hang...!"

Hwa Yeji remained rooted to the spot, staring in the direction he had vanished. Soon the Mount Hua and Kunlun disciples who had been rolling on the ground rose and said something to her, but she merely gazed into the distance without answering.

In truth, she was not the only one deeply impressed by Jong Jihang's arrival and departure.

"... What an impressive young man."

One of those people was Eulji Tae, who spoke from the second floor of Clear Waters Pavilion, where he had watched everything unfold.

Dong Gwangcheon, who had witnessed the same scene from directly opposite him... no, Dong Bongsu, agreed.

Dong Gwangcheon was, in fact, Dong Bongsu, whose hair had grown longer since leaving Northern Yuan.

After leaving Guishui, he had returned straight to Datong. Before heading into the Central Plains, he needed to see the Weapon Monster. He had to collect the object made by melting down the [Beginner's Sword]. So he had visited the Eight Directions Armory, only to find the Weapon Monster already gone.

Instead, another expert had been there, one powerful enough to trigger a warning from Spirit Eye. He had told Dong Bongsu that the Weapon Monster was currently at the Murim Alliance.

Dong Bongsu did not know whether the Weapon Monster had some hidden purpose, whether there were complications, or whether something had simply come up unexpectedly. Nevertheless, he had decided to accompany that expert, Eulji Tae. He judged Zhengzhou a reasonable choice for his first step into the Central Plains.

Whatever anyone might say, the current center of the Central Plains' martial world was Zhengzhou.

The Murim Alliance's headquarters were there, after all.

Dong Bongsu had yet to decide what he would do in the Central Plains, or how.

To run a "ranch," he first needed good breeding stock. No one gave good stock away for free. Especially not in this wasteland called Murim.

He had considered all sorts of things.

How should he establish a ranch, and what sort should it be? Once he had established one, would he actually be able to secure breeding stock? What about money?

Then another thought had suddenly occurred to him.

Why bother establishing a new ranch? What about taking over the biggest and best of the ranches already in Murim? The kind where vast sums of money and fine breeding stock poured in without him having to lift a finger...

The Murim Alliance, the Heavenly Demon Castle, and the Hall of Gathered Evil.

Those three were currently the finest ranches—in other words, gathering places for talent. There was no question about it.

Then which of the three should he go to? And how should he take it over?

Nothing had been decided yet.

Dong Bongsu was keeping every possibility open.

Any of them would do, so long as he could continue his hobby and grow efficiently. And just then, an opportunity to visit the Murim Alliance had presented itself, bringing him on this journey to Zhengzhou.

That was when Jong Jihang had appeared before him.

As Eulji Tae had said, he was impressive. So impressive, in fact, that Dong Bongsu found himself thinking:

'He's like the protagonist of a martial arts movie or novel.'

That was Dong Bongsu's truly unembellished, objective assessment.

In their brief encounter, Jong Jihang had proved a mysterious man with an intriguing presence that reduced everyone around him to supporting players.

"Picking a fight with a Phoenix and a Dragon before he's even reached Zhengzhou. Just what one might expect of the master of the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword."

The Dragon Eulji Tae meant would be Woo Shimgi, the Kunlun White Dragon, and the Phoenix... presumably that woman, Hwa Yeji.

To Dong Bongsu, Eulji Tae seemed to know something about Jong Jihang. He could also read the anticipation in his eyes for the master of the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword.

It was just like the look of a moviegoer or a novel's reader hoping to see the protagonist shine.

Dong Bongsu sat in a daze for a moment.

In that instant, the entire scene seemed to freeze and flood into his eyes. Eulji Tae, Hwa Yeji, Woo Shimgi, and everyone else. They all displayed different emotions, but every one of them was feeling and thinking something about Jong Jihang, whether they liked him or not.

Perhaps one could say that the emergence of a young hero named Jong Jihang was causing a stir, one way or another.

Then time resumed its course, and Dong Bongsu's thoughts veered in a peculiar direction.

The master of the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword, and the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword.

Jong Jihang, and the sword he carried.

A sudden thought.

What happened if the protagonist of a movie or novel suddenly died?

Wouldn't that make for an entertaining movie or novel too?

Was there a rule that only the protagonist could be the protagonist? Wouldn't it be a splendid scene if an extra suddenly appeared and took over the lead?

SMACK, SMACK.

Eulji Tae began eating.

Dong Bongsu also picked up his chopsticks, put a piece of meat in his mouth, and chewed. Juices flowed out and filled his mouth, but he tasted nothing. He could not.

Because he had grown curious about the taste not of pork, but of a true herbivore. An elephant.

The Jongnam Sect.

A member of the former Nine Sects and One Gang. Long the dominant power in Shaanxi.

But now...

A forgotten sect.

The Solitary Sword of Jongnam. Or the Venomous Sword of Jongnam.

The Solitary Sword because he alone remained. The Venomous Sword because his sword was so vicious.

Another forgotten name.

It had truly been decades since the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword had shaken off its thick coating of dust and bared its hidden steel.

Jongnam's last sword and its symbol. The sword of the Solitary Sword.

Jong Jihang gazed down at the Yellow River, still holding the Great Heavenly Adamant Sword in his left hand as before. It was not a beautiful sight, but there was an understated masculinity to it. To both the Yellow River and Jong Jihang.

The boat traveled east, ever east. Zhengzhou was not far away.

Trouble had struck as soon as he had made his debut in Murim. Yet he had no regrets.

His master had once told him:

["Don't draw your sword lightly. But once you draw it, wield it with a vengeance. Make the mountains, rivers, grass, and trees tremble, and every martial artist piss their pants."]

He had drawn it, and wielded it roughly. He could not yet say whether the whole land was trembling, but he had at least made one man piss his pants.

As for the Kunlun Sect, he knew it well from his master's stories.