Chapter 239 - Opening the Eyes (3)

The slaughter by the band of frenzied swordsmen had ended.

The shoulders of the twenty-eight standing on the level ground rose and fell gently. It had been a pitched battle on a massive scale. They had left hundreds of warriors of the evil and unorthodox paths either mangled or dead. Even after their overwhelming breakthrough using lightness skills, it was hardly strange to see them catching their breath.

The sleeves of the fist and palm arts masters had turned pitch-black. Blood dripped incessantly from the lowered blades of the swordsmen, spattering the earth.

The Radiant Genius Formula was a divine technique with distinct strengths and weaknesses. Its overwhelming power to break through enemy ranks came at a price. Such was the way of the world. Only by expending tremendous amounts of core energy could one produce miracles.

But its effectiveness was beyond question. The carnage of this life-and-death clash between sects was proof enough.

"Haaah..."

"Ugh, uhh..."

The brush and bare earth were stained dark red. The stench of blood spread in every direction on the cold wind.

Flesh shattered by Burst Discharge and scattered by waves of force. Pieces of corpses cleaved in two. The defeated exhaling in agony because their internal-energy breathing sustained a tiny spark of life...

"Is this... hah... am I dreaming?"

"What a... satisfying sight."

"Stop pretending you're so tough."

Hardy though the people of Xi'an in Shaanxi Province were, this was not a sight they could bear to look at. Even those with considerable nerve turned away.

Fortunately, there was somewhere else to look. The crowning moment of any war between sects was said to be the life-and-death duel between their leaders. The level ground of Great Moon Gorge was no exception.

"Only the sect heads are left!"

"Ah, how will this turn out...?"

"That really was the Sword Demon Sect leader who went down, wasn't it? Xi'an's in for an upheaval!"

"A joint attack by the sect heads will be another matter. Their strength is beyond our understanding."

"He brought those heavenly masters here. Surely he'll show us something extraordinary even against the three greatest masters?"

The spectators, who outnumbered the dead warriors of the seven unorthodox sects, craned their heads downward. Many were starving. For the first time in a long while, animation stirred in their gaunt, lifeless faces. It was a sadistic thirst for violence.

"Please... please..."

Some prayed as though bowing before a shrine. As if Maitreya had appeared before them, they pleaded for the deaths of the unorthodox sect heads. Hands braced against rocks and heads alike turned toward the young swordsman in the cloak.

Xi'an's seven sect leaders and an unidentified supreme master.

As hundreds of gazes converged on them, the cliffs enclosing the gorge on either side grew quiet.

The mountains stretching toward the horizon of the guanzhong plain shone a vivid green, washed in the white light of the somewhat lowered sun. The verdure was dreamlike yet lush. It suited neither the carnage nor the confrontation.

That incongruity lent the scene a peculiar atmosphere—until a man among the seven sect leaders, a great saber strapped to his back, opened his mouth.

"You'll take no more than ten breaths?"

Even his appearance was unconventional. His upper body was bare, as though he were flaunting his external arts. A scar rising from his abdomen, skipping over his neck and reaching his cheek, stood out starkly.

It was a horrific sword wound. How had he survived? The heat of internal energy blazing from his entire body seemed almost paradoxical.

Bu Jowi, the Great Wind Saber Fiend. Leader of the Heaven-Ending Saber Sect.

He was counted as Xi'an's strongest saber wielder, his fame reaching both orthodox and unorthodox circles. His saber technique was said to rival the profound swordsmanship of the Zhongnan Sect. He was a master of his sect's Midheaven Saber.

He was also famous for habitually declaring that he did not fear the immortals of the Nine Great Sects. Even after witnessing the Sword Demon Sect leader's defeat, the fighting spirit on his angular face burned like fire.

"No matter how great you..."

As his deep voice rang out, the current captain of the Radiant Demon Squad took a step. Grass crumpled softly. Wind stirred at the foot pushing off the ground—radiant wheel qi spreading from his Yongquan point. It immediately exploded into thrust.

THOOM!

His heel drove all the way back. Even with the qi waves confined inside his body as much as possible, his core energy circulated without strain. His control over internal energy grew stronger with each passing day. It was a function of his upper dantian, expanding without conscious effort.

WHOOSH!

Jung Yeonshin narrowed his eyes. A powerful recoil coursed through him. The fierce wind whipping through his hair and clothes could be felt even between his fingers.

He did not hesitate to enter the six sect leaders' territory. Bu Jowi's face, mouth twisted, grew rapidly larger.

The man's response was swift. He drew the great saber from his back and brought it straight down. The air split to either side, and grass flattened in both directions. A wave of force from the saber strike hurtled forward, pulverizing brush and heaps of earth.

BOOOM!

To employ such broad forms, one's reactions had to match those of a respectable quicksword practitioner. As a master wielding a heavy weapon, he seemed to have focused his training on the Way of Perception.

The transparently shimmering wave of force reached Jung Yeonshin's face in an instant. This was a level at which the saber's wind alone could tear through bricks.

'No pushover.'

So Jung Yeonshin thought. He could feel the nature of the evil and unorthodox paths against his skin.

How many unorthodox sect leaders shared all their nourishing foods, spirit medicines, and profound secret techniques with their disciples? Very few, surely.

That was doubly true of organizations like Xi'an's seven great sects. Their leaders' authority was said to approach that of heaven. It was a structure in which the person at the top could hardly fail to become overwhelmingly powerful.

Anyone not utterly ignorant of the world would know as much. It was evident in the saber strike facing him.

It approached in the shape of a transparent, keen-edged slash, violently cleaving the space before it.

SHHHING!

Jung Yeonshin felt his fringe scattering across his forehead. Already, his vision was warping right before his nose. Looking straight ahead, he raised his left hand.

The radiant wheel qi gathered at his elbow split in two and climbed like rays of light. The instant he extended his hand into the saber strike, the gale split into streams between his fingers.

The repulsive force was tremendous. Even with his hand properly sheathed in internal energy, he felt as though the skin of his palm were being pushed backward. It was strong enough to help provide the pressure he used to weave mutually opposing core energies together. He adjusted it by feel.

'Shall I try Radiant River in a different form?'

Jung Yeonshin's mouth settled slightly.

Bu Jowi's eyes widened a fraction.

The Radiant Demon Squad captain did not stop advancing. He hurtled onward with the momentum of his initial leap, sword held low, his other hand cutting through the saber strike's wave of force.

Through shafts of sunlight rippling in the wake of martial force, his handsome, expressionless face appeared in glimpses. It was an unnerving sight.

"Gi Soseul!"

Bu Jowi shouted urgently. It was the name of Severance Pavilion's head, a practitioner of exotic weapons and another of Xi'an's seven great sect heads.

ZIIING!

Sharp streaks of light flashed ahead. It was like a sudden shower. They slashed through space in every direction and settled into place, seemingly linking the brush to the sky.

A tangle of threads blocked the Radiant Demon Squad captain's charge. Like an enormous spiderweb, it sealed off every direction with its metallic strands. Though they had clearly plunged down from directly ahead, angles jutted upward and downward. It was as though spiderwebs had been erected on every side. They looked exceedingly sturdy.

That single move was an art unto itself. Was it a mixture of sorcery and martial arts?

Jung Yeonshin halted. One strand nearly touched the underside of his chin.

Lifting his head slightly, he looked beside Bu Jowi. A woman dressed in light-blue silk combat attire held both hands out. Gleaming threads ran in streams into her broad sleeves—dozens of strands even at a glance.

These were the thread swords he had only heard about. They were said to be made by slicing a special iron into threads for use as weapons.

'I've heard of her.'

Gi Soseul, the Keen-Thread Ghost Slayer. An artist who had played the zither, she was said to have founded her own faction after some fortuitous encounter.

She too belonged to the unorthodox path. Every pleasure house in Xi'an was in her hands. She routinely brutalized her subordinates and had commoners abducted from their beds at inns, taken to pleasure houses, and saddled with debt. Together with Bu Jowi, leader of the Heaven-Ending Saber Sect, she indulged in every manner of pleasure.

Their eyes met. For all her fine clothes, her bearing was ghostly. So was the way her lips curled upward. An eerie air seeped from her silent smile.

This was the martial world.

Did all the renowned founding masters of the unorthodox path possess such a distinct presence?

"His protective force qi is his weakness."

The voice came from behind Bu Jowi.

"It isn't as powerful as his other martial arts. Its framework is shallow. No, not truly shallow. It simply lacks depth compared with his other methods. It doesn't fit him."

Wi Ilhwa, leader of the Remnant-Revering Earth Sect, was speaking. Sword qi seemed to gleam in her venomous eyes. She was evidently trying to make the fullest use of the eye technique bestowed upon her by the Lord of Yeoryeong.

"You can tell from the way Pavilion Head Gi's Ghost-Severing Threads made him hesitate. Drawing on the Lingering Spirits' secret intelligence network, I heard that he might be skilled at creating martial arts tailored to himself. His protective force qi likely isn't ready yet. Refining his other exclusive arts would have served him better. If we're going to kill him, it has to be now."

She spoke quickly. This was a fight premised on Lip Art. There was no reason masters who swung their hands like rays of light could not produce speech just as swiftly.

They were no different from the warriors of Desolate Fortress. Those trained in Lip Art could speak faster than they struck. The same held for comprehension.

Jung Yeonshin let the words wash past, taking note only of the Lingering Spirits' intelligence-gathering capabilities.

He took in the broad view ahead. Ghost-Severing Threads, she had called them. Gi Soseul's thread swords surrounded him in all eight directions, radiating a chilling sharpness. Ordinary protective force qi could not withstand them. His movement was restricted.

'How do they move through this?'

The question had only just occurred to him.

WHOOSH!

White robes billowed at length on his left. It was Baek Muryang, head of Radiant Moon House, closing the distance as though using an immortal's earth-shrinking art.

His snowy beard streamed as he extended a palm. From the formless energy gathered in its center came a strange, thunderous noise. It was a sound Jung Yeonshin had never heard before. It bored into his ears, seeming to bleach his mind white.

KIEEEEE!

It was a key principle of the Radiant Moon Overlord Art. True to an unorthodox martial art, it tormented its enemies in all manner of ways. Sinister was an apt word.

At the same time, the thread-sword net parted of its own accord to either side. Anyone could have recognized Gi Soseul's handiwork. It allowed passage only to her allies. The thread swords moved with tremendous speed, expanding and contracting as though alive.

A storm rose on his right. Bu Jowi had attacked again.

The instant the man's silhouette, swinging his great saber in a broad arc, intruded on Jung Yeonshin's vision, the ponderous wave of force from Midheaven Saber extended through the gaps in the thread-sword net with exquisite precision. The friction roared as though the air itself were being smashed. Before it even arrived, Jung Yeonshin's clothes were flapping violently backward.

ROOOAR!

As attacks came in from both sides, Jung Yeonshin was watching over the shoulder of Wi Ilhwa, leader of the Remnant-Revering Earth Sect.

There stood a huge woman, her build rivaling Bu Jowi's. Beneath red sleeves, she held her enormous hands gathered beside her waist.

The flow of force swirling up from her feet was brutal. It felt as though the earthen ground were being shaved away. Dust spiraled upward like a waterspout. Even faint tremors reached him.

Kang Mujeong, the Days-and-Sun Mountain-Crumbling Fist. Leader of Xi'an's Great Spirit Awe-Shaking Sect.

A famous tale surrounded her. Born the child of an herb gatherer, she had eaten a thousand-year-old fleeceflower root. The spiritual herb's energy had given her the greatest reserves of internal energy among the seven great sects.

Rumors abounded that, if she fully unleashed her Famed Ultimate Technique, the Tremor-Building Thunderbolt Wave, she could easily pulverize even a small peak.

Her inability to release such a wave of force instantly in a one-on-one life-and-death duel had kept her from rising to the ranks of supreme masters. Despite belonging to the unorthodox path, she was said to have received repeated invitations to join the military.

'They've formed their formation well.'

The thought passed through Jung Yeonshin's mind in that brief instant.

At the very rear, Kang Mujeong, the Days-and-Sun Mountain-Crumbling Fist, prepared the decisive blow. Wi Ilhwa, the Demon-Scattering Sword, sought a way to neutralize him with the Lord of Yeoryeong's eye technique. While Gi Soseul's thread-sword net sealed off every direction, Baek Muryang and Bu Jowi probed for openings. That entire sequence converged on Kang Mujeong's Tremor-Building Thunderbolt Wave.

Jung Yeonshin could read the flow of their linked forms. He deflected Baek Muryang's wrinkled palm as it came in from the left. He had meant to shatter the man's wrist with a single strike, but his opponent had prudently withheld his strength.

The same was true of Bu Jowi's saber technique surging in from the right. The moment Jung Yeonshin struck down with the sword momentum of Qilin's Judgment, it crumbled all too easily.

Instead, the tip of Northern Radiance caught in the thread-sword net. For a moment, it could not move. In the distance, Gi Soseul smiled smoothly.

"I caught a few iron race creatures and made them spin Thousand-year Silk mixed with dark iron. Not even the Sword Star could cut it."

The Sword Demon Sect leader had fallen futilely, without even exchanging a handful of moves. These sect heads, properly prepared now, were different. Every action assumed a coordinated assault.

Even while guarding their own safety, they imbued every form with the intent to wear their enemy down and kill him. As though demonstrating the nature of the martial world, they had assembled a formation meant to slay a supreme master.

"Ah."

The corners of Jung Yeonshin's mouth lifted minutely. As though playing a zither with his blade, he moved Northern Radiance and lightly plucked a thread sword. There was an odd curiosity in the gesture, like that of any boy his age.

"Seven exchanges left, then?"

He murmured the words slowly.

Then, with his left hand imbued with Radiant River, he seized one strand of the thread swords.