Chapter 240 - Opening the Eyes (4)

Meanwhile, the number of spectators surrounding the immense gorge was growing at a frightening rate. A noisy clamor filled the air.

It seemed as though everyone in Xi'an, an ancient capital with a thousand years of history, was flocking there. From begging paupers to great merchants whose very appearance set them apart, people occupied every peak. Some arrived with carriages, palanquins, and silk coverings—entourages worthy of being called processions.

This was the finale of an unusually grand battle.

Some martial artists who had come as impartial spectators stood on the tips of branches with their arms folded. Others stood sideways against the gorge's stone walls, using the Wall-Lizard Art with only their feet.

“Shaanxi's vested interests are squarely on the line. Do we still not know who those people are?”

“Sword forms that emit light... Heaven’s Zenith Sect of the Thirteen Skies? Or those noble-race bastards who only accept pureblood disciples...”

“Will the sect leaders really go down? How long has it been since we saw those supernatural abominations band together? The monsters of the unorthodox path have all sorts of secret life-saving techniques...”

Their conversations were exceedingly loud.

“A useless endeavor.”

Some distance away, Wi Ilhwa twisted her lips as she watched Jung Yeonshin lay his hand on a thread sword. It was not mockery. Her expression did not look derisive.

“Did you think we hadn't anticipated a life-and-death duel between leaders? Quite apart from displaying our martial forces, our first aim was to proclaim the might of the seven great sects' leaders to the world. The sudden death of the Sword Demon Sect leader alone is hardly a serious problem.”

A certain satisfaction colored her voice. The captain of the combat unit that had plunged her into the abyss in an instant was wasting his attention on something trivial.

The sect leaders' coordinated assault had now taken its full shape around him. Wi Ilhwa's smile deepened. She smiled deliberately, determined not to be satisfied until she saw him disgrace himself somehow.

“You, outsider. Even death will not be enough to pay your debt.”

An unorthodox sect's lineage would not end while its leader lived. The leader was the sect.

Xi’an’s seven great sects would never relinquish their power.

SHHHH!

A heavy wind split through the net of thread swords Gi Soseul had spread. This move embodied the sect leaders' intent.

The spiderweb sharply encircling Jung Yeonshin in every direction, above and below, was as dense as the obsession of unorthodox founding masters facing lean times.

So too were Bu Jowi and Baek Muryang, ready to strike from either side, and Kang Mujeong at the rear, her fists gathered in the straight-punch opening stance of the Tremor-Building Thunderbolt Wave. Their towering figures and fluttering robes seemed to exude the dignity of sect leaders.

The clean-cut Jang Ilgi, leader of Whiteburn Gate, stood hanging back with an odd expression, as though he had leisure to spare.

'So this is the martial world at a captain's level...'

Jung Yeonshin gazed steadily at the six sect leaders' faces. They were filled with confidence, conviction, and hope. Not one showed any sign of yielding.

These were powerful figures who lived in the world's Murim. Rulers who had made their names in the raw martial world.

The less there was to eat, the more they coveted martial power, using it to crush those around them and fill their bellies.

The surfaces of rivers and lakes stirred at even a small gust. Ripples became great currents.

The footsteps of the strong affected everything around them. That was why this world was called the rivers and lakes.

A world where martial masters imposed their will from exalted heights, like mountain gods.

It had been the same for the Jeong Clan Estate.

Everything had begun with a sidelong glance from the sword-riding Tyrant Sword Tribe Elder Council Leader. What had come of her passing inspection of the earth veins? The annihilation of a great landowning family.

'It was the place Mother chose.'

Jung Yeonshin thought of how he had even grown attached to the Dano Festival swing he had never gotten to ride.

Slowly, he parted his lips.

“You've played the strong all this time.”

“And we shall continue to do so.”

Baek Muryang, head of Radiant Moon House, answered in an old-fashioned manner with a hearty chuckle.

Jung Yeonshin said no more.

His left hand slid closed fully around the thread sword.

A stinging pain rose, distinct in his grip. It traced a straight line along the thread sword deployed by Keen-Thread Ghost Slayer Gi Soseul.

Like the rest of the sword-thread net flashing around him with long gleams of sunlight, it was terribly sharp, as though it held sword qi of its own.

He was bleeding. He could feel it without looking. He had gripped it so hard that his protective force qi could barely withstand it.

At the same time, the keen strand began to tremble. It had come into contact with Radiant River, suppressed as tightly as possible inside his palm. The tremendous vibrations traveled straight into it and spread.

'It's tough.'

There was no sign of it breaking. He could not even tell how it had been anchored. It must be one of the sinister arts peculiar to the evil and unorthodox paths, the so-called deviant ways.

Though clearly a kind of sorcerous martial art, it was exceedingly natural. The threads swept fluidly through the air all around him like fishing lines.

Keen-Thread Ghost Slayer Gi Soseul.

When their eyes met, her thin lips curved faintly. They said she had played the zither before her fortuitous encounter, and her bearing was indeed closer to an artist's.

She looked elegant, extending those skeins—nearly divine weapons—with both hands. She even seemed somewhat at ease.

'So this is another way to become powerful.'

As one's martial prowess and status rose, and the world one inhabited grew larger, one's knowledge broadened as well. Jung Yeonshin's martial world expanded once more.

The new captain of the Radiant Demon Squad was a supreme master, but not a seasoned one. As a rising talent whose growth had only just begun, he could make nourishment of every experience.

This moment was no exception.

“His senses are uncanny! Don't let him do as he pleases!”

Wi Ilhwa shouted from the other side. Though she must have been confident they had seized the advantage, she was not complacent. Her precautions against a supreme master were meticulous.

It spoke of experience. The other sect leaders were no different. Sinister waves of force arose from both sides ahead of him.

“Why wait for the Tremor-Building Thunderbolt Wave? We're attacking together already. We've thrown away our dignity, so let's kill him quickly.”

Bu Jowi muttered through thick lips. As he lifted one large foot slightly, the thread swords below parted to either side. Without hesitation, he stamped down.

THUD!

With that forceful stomp, Bu Jowi's upper body pitched forward. The great saber he had raised from behind with both hands surged up and began to fall.

The surrounding thread swords scattered in every direction as though alive, while the brush around him flattened outward.

Jung Yeonshin adjusted his grip on Northern Radiance, which the lower threads had obstructed. The instant he reversed the orientation of his grip, he struck straight upward as though flicking the blade away. His sword stroke followed no prescribed form.

One man unleashed a fully prepared saber form; the other improvised an upward defensive stroke.

The instant the blade washed his vision white—

CLAAANG!

An immense impact struck him, driving forcefully into the web between his thumb and forefinger. The martial power anchored at the Chize point in his elbow held firm.

The recoil gathered in his forearm. At once, muscles tempered by the Movement Art pulsed, and his tendons tightened sharply.

As he gripped the sword hilt hard, they united completely with his martial power and surged into overwhelming sword force.

BOOM!

He had merely pushed upward, yet a thunderous report rang out. Northern Radiance's tip swept along Bu Jowi's saber tip, scattering colorless waves.

The finesse produced by talent unprecedented through the ages was just as sublime in the realm of strength. His martial power, bundles of muscle, and the balance linking his footing to his body existed on an entirely different plane.

It stood out especially against lesser opponents. Bu Jowi could not immediately deploy a means of compensating for his inferior talent.

WHOOOSH!

Bu Jowi flipped over and hung briefly in the air. Lowering his sword, Jung Yeonshin glanced up at him.

The wind billowing between them shook the surrounding brush ceaselessly. It almost looked like spectators dancing as they urged on a sword dance.

“What sort of sword force is that?!”

Bu Jowi shouted rapidly through Lip Art, still unable to steady himself in midair.

His words were directed at the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad, but intended for the other leaders to hear. He was calling for a follow-up strike. Anxiety tinged his voice.

That man really was the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad. He could not handle him one-on-one.

Jung Yeonshin could read it too. That was the flow of the fight. The other leaders would know it as well.

FLAP-FLAP-FLAP!

Robes fluttered violently to his left. There had been two men in the vanguard from the start.

Alongside Bu Jowi, Baek Muryang of Radiant Moon House blocked the path to Gi Soseul, Wi Ilhwa, and Kang Mujeong.

He was a wily veteran. While seeking to preserve the thread swords, eye technique, and decisive strike arrayed behind him, he had repeatedly displayed exceptional responses.

So it was now, as he pierced the gap in Jung Yeonshin's breathing just as the latter was about to launch a series of blows.

It came immediately after Wi Ilhwa's brief whistle. Apparently, it was a signal marking the perfect moment.

WHOOSH! THUD!

The heel of the man's palm drove in. The Radiant Moon Overlord Art of Xi’an’s seven great sects was said to be capable of responding in every direction.

His changes of direction were swift. In other words, he excelled at varying his forms.

'Their martial power runs deep to begin with. I can't kill them with a single blow.'

The moment Jung Yeonshin raised his left hand, bundles of thread swords closed in from every direction.

They blocked his vision, flashing one after another. If he went any farther, he would be cut. He had no choice but to check his movement.

At the same time, Baek Muryang's feet crossed twice on the ground. His attack turned uncanny. Afterimages of his palm technique multiplied as though he were performing illusion swordsmanship with his hands.

He was driving in all at once the waves of force he had accumulated while Jung Yeonshin clashed with Bu Jowi.

Shock waves striking the air sounded everywhere, enough to make his ears tingle.

ROOOAR!

Wi Ilhwa had already charged straight in and was bringing her sword down. Her silk sleeve fell rigidly alongside the blade.

It was a fearsomely refined crosswise sword strike. The sound of it rending the air was tremendously loud. So too was the expression on her face, her mouth stretched wide in something between a smile and a grimace.

From the air to the right, Bu Jowi descended with his great saber clenched in both hands. He had already regained his stance. The waves of force from his cascading saber strike thundered. The form was plainly aimed at striking a beat later.

The situation changed with astonishing speed.

The tightening spiderweb of thread swords. Three supreme moves exploding separately from three directions ahead. And the woman at the very rear, already twisting at the waist as though she had finished accumulating her wave of force.

They were strong. He had never seen a coordinated assault like this.

They were in a different class from their subordinates. It was just as the rumors said: the leaders alone enjoyed their sects' spirit medicines, secret teachings, and all manner of other benefits.

They deserved mention among the world's evil and unorthodox paths. They were worthy of being called unorthodox sect leaders.

“Ahahahaha!”

A bizarre laugh burst out beyond Baek Muryang's shoulder. It was Gi Soseul, laughing uproariously as she manipulated the thread swords.

Coming through Lip Art, it sounded deeply uncanny. Did she intend him to carry his resentment with him even as he died and crossed the River of Three Paths?

Jung Yeonshin smoothly laid the fingers of his left hand on a thread sword tightening toward his skin. Abruptly, Gi Soseul's laughter, which had rung out like a ray of light, stopped.

HUMMM!

With a resonant hum, a translucent boundary appeared along his hand.

Then a fine line followed his descending fingers in a gentle parabola, as though he were tearing through the paper of a doorway screen.

Through that gap, radiant shimmers slowly emerged.

Then Jung Yeonshin's grip pierced the boundary between sorcery and martial arts and seized the bundle of threads Gi Soseul had deployed. He had groped for it with his senses, and it had come within reach.

The captain of the Radiant Demon Squad thought absently:

'It looks interesting. Naturally, it's mine.'

Lightning-like radiance flashed at the Baihui point in his head. The skeins of core energy he had sent in earlier deciphered the Keen-Thread Ghost Slayer's ultimate thread-sword technique.

Where she had bent them, how she had anchored them, and at what angles martial power had to move to achieve the intended result.

Understanding born of energy detection spread like a flash. Where its basis in sorcerous arts made comprehension impossible, he substituted techniques of internal energy.

The talent that let him live ten days in one blazed like lightning in his mind. It ruthlessly shattered the precipice between ordinary attainment and the time it required, reducing it to futile ash.

And so, abruptly, his analysis of the unconventional weapon was complete. His comprehension resembled trap device techniques in its extraordinary precision.

Taking control of the thread swords was easy. In the release and retrieval of internal energy, Jung Yeonshin had surpassed Gi Soseul from the outset.

Following the wheel of light spinning within his heart, the Dharma-Surpassing Radiant Wheel Art rose like a wave.

At the same time, Gi Soseul's martial power was driven from the thread swords, shattering and dispersing.

The next instant, the tough skeins embroidered every direction with radiant beams. It seemed as though space itself were being carved into dozens of strips.

HUMMM!

The resonance of Radiant River, which he had infused earlier, blossomed from the thread swords. The metal strands resonated together along Jung Yeonshin's fingers.

They could not cut into finger joints bearing the same waves of martial power. Instead, they seemed to have changed masters.

They whispered to Jung Yeonshin: rest his fingers lightly upon them, and flick his core energy briskly.

The sensation traveled from his grasp to his mind. It was exceedingly vivid.

'Like this.'

Following that feeling, he swept his hand delicately as though playing a zither. One after another, the thread swords gave off soft zither notes. Their resonance was deep.

At the same time—

WHOOOSH!

Skeins flashing gold surged explosively upward. The white-hot senses of his upper dantian worked as though time had stopped purely within the realm of thought.

In other words, his move was lightning-fast. The threads wrapped like a net around his enemies, including Wi Ilhwa, Bu Jowi, and Baek Muryang, along with dozens of paulownia trees.

As the unorthodox sect leaders were bound and pinned to tree trunks in an instant, the luminous thread swords shone indifferently in the sunlight.

“Gi Soseul! What are you doing?!”

“No, this is... insane...!”

“Aaaagh! Mine! Mine!”

As Bu Jowi screamed as though in a fit, Wi Ilhwa's eyes flew wide, and Gi Soseul collapsed, shrieking like a madwoman.

Only Baek Muryang, his beard severed in strands and his body bloodied, was raising waves of qi.

Far away, a long inhalation faded to a halt, as though seeping into the soul.

It was Kang Mujeong, the Days-and-Sun Mountain-Crumbling Fist. She trapped that breath of internal energy within her body to add one final measure of immense strength.

The air around her changed in an instant. As the domain of her fist strike spread like a rising tide, the incoming winds were driven back upward.

WHOOOOSH!

The Tremor-Building Thunderbolt Wave was fully charged.

Only then did the force surging from her entire body reveal its explosive presence.

The instant her scarlet robe seemed unusually vivid, Kang Mujeong boldly tipped her balance forward and thrust out her fist.

It was a straight-punch stance that committed everything to a single blow. Her opening form was flawless.

The artillery-like blast of Burst Discharge from her fist raced toward him, shimmering colorlessly, enough to call to mind Shaolin Temple's Hundred-Pace Divine Fist.

ROOOOAR!

At that very moment, Jung Yeonshin's jet-black sleeve stirred.

With a soft step, he stood upon a single thread sword.

Instantly, the entire immense spiderweb of golden beams moved to bar the way ahead.

He reverse-calculated the wave-of-force structure of the straight punch's Burst Discharge, founded upon the sixty-four hexagrams, and arranged his defenses accordingly. Between himself and Kang Mujeong, he had erected a netted wall to neutralize it.

HUMMMMM!

Colorless ripples spread from the midpoint. Passing through the golden net wall, the fist strike's wave of force broke apart like sea foam. It was a fantastical sight.

The instant shock first appeared on Kang Mujeong's normally placid face, a radiant strand wound diagonally around her body.

“Too light. It won't work against a supreme master.”

It feels as though all I'm gaining are tricks. Standing atop a beam of light with his hands behind his back, the captain of the Radiant Demon Squad murmured. His resolute eyes sharpened like blades.

“Wait... If you kill us like this, order in Xi'an will...!”

“I am the head of Xi'an's Radiant Moon House. I can give you much.”

“Give it back! Give back my Radiant Net!”

They spoke from the tree trunks. Bound there, Wi Ilhwa, Baek Muryang, and Gi Soseul each blurted out their own words. Bu Jowi of the Heaven-Ending Saber Sect merely moved his lips in a brief demand to be killed.

Advantage and disadvantage had reversed in a moment. So extraordinary were life-and-death duels between masters.

“Arrest is not my school's foremost principle,” Jung Yeonshin said.

It was the same as when the Tyrant Sword Tribe had annihilated the Jeong Clan Estate. A great faction straddling the orthodox and unorthodox paths, the Desolate Fortress was closer to the evil and unorthodox paths in the ruthlessness of its methods. It was unlike government officials.

The martial world was savage, governed strictly by the strong devouring the weak. The Desolate Fortress did not hope for the rehabilitation of martial artists who possessed immense power.

Those who wielded strength like mountain gods exploited the common people, killed them, and enslaved them.

Eliminating future threats better served the people's welfare. That was the perspective of the Desolate Fortress and the state.

“I know you've enjoyed yourselves enough. Now die.”

A soft step.

It happened immediately after the Radiant Demon Squad captain's leather shoe came down upon another thread sword. The unorthodox sect leaders were given no time to show regret, remorse, or relief.

What Gi Soseul's earlier laughter had intended for Jung Yeonshin rebounded upon them. All they carried into their final moment were faces steeped in despair.

SPLAAASH!

Along with the blood spurting in every direction, dry blades of winter grass scattered into the air.

At the same time, the gorge fell silent.