Chapter 1812 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect
A flicker of
tension briefly crossed the face of Thousand Faced Manipulator, Dam Yeohae.
‘Sword Under
Heaven, Jongli Gok… and Nokrim King, Im Sobyeong.’
Questions of
whether they fit together or not were irrelevant. Debating such trivialities
over what had already transpired was meaningless.
What truly
mattered now was not their personalities but the level of their martial skill.
‘How strong
are they?’
It had
already been over ten years since rumors of Jongli Gok being one of the Three
Greatest Swordmen Under Heaven. Whether he had grown stronger or weaker since
then was anyone’s guess.
He could
have become more powerful, or he might have weakened. Often, those who take on
the heavy responsibilities of sect leadership grow weaker, burdened by
administrative duties.
Thus, no one
could accurately gauge the current strength of Jongli Gok.
The same
went for Im Sobyeong. Could anyone in the world claim to have seen Nokrim King Im
Sobyeong truly fight with all his might?
Faced with a
life-or-death situation, he would choose to flee. If running wasn’t an option,
he’d avoid conflict altogether. That’s how Im Sobyeong survived years of war
with the Myriad Man House while remaining unscathed—he felt no shame in retreating
or yielding.
Given this
situation, it was no wonder that Thousand Faced Manipulator felt perplexed.
Despite standing before two figures of such renown, he couldn’t determine the
likely outcome of a battle. For someone who prided himself on his foresight,
this was a first.
However, it
seemed someone else had a different perspective.
“Huff.”
A sharp aura
that felt like blades pierced through Dam Yeohae. Standing next to him, Jeok
Ho, appeared like a completely different person from the moment Jongli Gok arrived.
‘Well,
that’s understandable.’
Tang Gunak
was strong. Neither his reputation nor his martial skill could be ignored by
anyone in Kangho.
But for
those aiming to master the pinnacle of martial arts, he wasn’t an enticing
opponent. Poison and unconventional weapons were hard to reconcile with the
path of righteousness.
‘It’s
amusing for someone like him to talk about righteousness.’
At least
Jeok Ho didn’t seem to find it amusing.
Every nerve
in Jeok Ho’s body was focused on Jongli Gok, a concentration so intense that
even Thousand Faced Manipulator could feel it.
The mere
presence of a formidable opponent was enough for Jeok Ho to forget about the
complexity of the situation and focus solely on the challenge before him. Dam
Yeohae envied that simplicity of mind, at least in this moment.
It seemed
that one of the two opponents shared similar thoughts with Thousand Faced
Manipulator. Noticing his gaze, the man clicked his tongue and spoke.
“Tch. A
murderous aura that could tear someone’s face apart.”
Im Sobyeong
waved a fan leisurely, as if dismissing the situation, then turned to Jongli
Gok beside him.
“That man
with the blade looks exceptionally strong, doesn’t he?”
“And?”
“And what?
I’m asking if your aging bones can handle this.”
Jongli Gok’s
brow twitched.
“I’m
flattered that a sickly fellow who coughs blood for fun is so concerned about
me.”
“Don’t
misunderstand. Geniuses are often frail, you see. Not that someone like you, a
mediocre talent, would understand.”
“Perhaps I’m
no genius, but I’d rather live long than be cut short. Keep running your mouth
like that, and you’ll be the one with a short life.”
Im Sobyeong’s
face contorted.
This old man
is more stubborn than he’d expected. Im Sobyeong rarely lost in matters of wit
or will, except for a
crazy Taoist, yet he couldn’t overwhelm him.
“So, can you
handle him or not?”
“...How
absurd.”
Jongli Gok
smirked coldly.
“You’re
asking if I can handle a petty evil sect? Your arrogance is beyond measure. It
seems these so-called evil sect scoundrels have no sense of their place.”
After a
brief silence, Im Sobyeong nodded.
He wasn’t
agreeing with Jongli Gok. He was beginning to understand the frustration of the
Mount Hua Sect disciples, who would grind their teeth and foam at the mouth at
the mere mention of Zhongnan.
‘Having a
man like this around would make it impossible to harbor good feelings.’
Since
joining Heavenly Comrade Alliance, Jongli Gok had shown a surprisingly mild
demeanor, which had made people forget that he was just as foul-tempered as
they came. The reputation of Zhongnan for leaving no bones behind was no
accident.
Perhaps even
the Jin family’s infamous temper could trace its roots back to Zhongnan.
“I just hope
the Sect Leader’s sword is half as intimidating as his temper.”
“If you don’t
get in my way, it’ll be easy.”
“Ah-.”
The moment
Im Sobyeong was about to say one more word while gritting his teeth, a sudden
cracking sound erupted.
A perfect blade
energy, sharp and clean to the point of flawlessness, streaked toward them as
though splitting the world in two.
Even Im
Sobyeong froze momentarily, his body covered in goosebumps.
At that
moment, Jongli Gok’s sword moved smoothly. A massive sword energy, glowing
faintly blue, enveloped his blade as he intercepted the incoming strike head-on.
Kwaaaaaang!
A thunderous
explosion erupted.
‘Wow…’
Im Sobyeong’s
mouth hung slightly open.
Jeok Ho’s
strike had been extraordinary, a masterpiece of simplicity taken to its
extreme.
While Mount
Hua’s swordsmanship was the epitome of grandeur, Jeok Ho’s blade was the
epitome of simplicity—perfectly honed to its essence.
Yet Jongli
Gok had blocked that near-perfect strike without much effort.
“...Impressive.”
The voice of
admiration came from none other than Jeok Ho’s mouth.
He hadn’t
expected a decisive result with that strike, but he’d thought he might gain the
upper hand. After all, a sword master should be at a disadvantage in a direct
clash with a heavy blade.
But
Zhongnan’s leader had stood firm, blocking the strike with a single, effortless
slash.
This was a
true opponent. Jeok Ho’s lips curled upward.
His blood
was boiling. His fighting spirit surged. He felt most alive when facing a foe
like this.
‘How far can
this go?’
Kwaang!
Jeok Ho
leaped forward.
In just one
exchange, he’d realized that ordinary techniques wouldn’t suffice. Only his
full power could match this opponent.
Closing the
distance in a single breath, Jeok Ho brought his blade down in a powerful,
straightforward strike.
It was an
obvious move, devoid of any trickery.
But the
heavy blade was at its most potent when descending from above.
Kwaang!
Jeok Ho's
blade clashed with Jongli Gok's sword.
Kwaang!
Kwaang! Kwaang! Kwaang!
A series of
thunderous booms echoed through the air.
Jeok Ho's
single, lethal strike, seemingly suited for a ‘one-strike kill’, unfolded into
a relentless barrage of consecutive blows. Such a combination—lethal
singularity with successive strikes—seemed almost paradoxical, yet the immense
power imbued in his blade made it possible.
Even under
this barrage of near-supernatural precision, Jongli Gok's sword remained
unshaken.
He neither
preemptively seized control of the situation nor employed cunning techniques to
redirect the attacks. Instead, he merely blocked each path the blade carved, meeting
it head-on. With such an unassuming yet deliberate approach, Jongli Gok
effortlessly neutralized Jeok Ho's fearsome onslaught.
Strength
against strength. Technique against technique.
‘What is
this?’
Jeok Ho was
utterly astonished.
Had Jongli
Gok's sword spread into a flurry of countless strokes to counter his, Jeok Ho
might not have been so overwhelmed.
But there
was no such wastefulness in Jongli Gok's swordplay.
One strike
of the blade met with one strike of the sword.
‘Is this
even possible?’
Jeok Ho
could wield his blade as he pleased, but the defender had to discern the
direction of the attack before responding. By nature, defending was inherently
disadvantageous.
Yet Jongli
Gok was evenly matched with Jeok Ho.
‘Does this
mean he’s a level above me in skill?’
Jeok Ho bit
his lip. Not yet. Not just yet.
The veins on
his arms bulged as he summoned even more power. The blade emitted an even
greater aura, crackling with energy.
Kwang!
Jongli Gok
seized the smallest opening and swung his sword, deflecting Jeok Ho's blade
with precision.
Screeech.
Jeok Ho's feet
scraped against the ground as he was pushed back several paces—nearly three zhang
(approximately ten meters). His expression hardened as he was helplessly forced
backward.
He swallowed
his astonishment while staring at Jongli Gok. Even words of praise were
difficult to utter.
‘So this is
the strength of a leader from one of the Ten Great Sects?’
No, it
wasn’t just the position of sect leader. It was Jongli Gok himself as a
swordsman who was formidable.
Jeok Ho's
eyes shone with pure admiration. Meanwhile, Jongli Gok, receiving that gaze,
couldn’t hide his dissatisfaction.
“Tsk.”
He clicked
his tongue softly.
“Even a mere
rogue of evil sect dares to wield a blade that approaches righteousness.”
“...There is
no righteous path, evil path, or demonic path in martial arts.”
Had Cheong Myeong
heard this, he would’ve frothed at the mouth in outrage. However, Jongli Gok
did not particularly refute the statement. The dissatisfaction he felt wasn’t
directed at Jeok Ho but at himself.
‘How
frustrating.’
Facing an opponent
who relied on cheap tricks was easier. But combating someone walking the path
of orthodoxy made things much more challenging.
The reason
was simple. Jongli Gok’s sword was a defensive sword. It could block
adversaries with unyielding strength but lacked the capability to pierce
through an impenetrable opponent.
‘This is
why...’
He had no
complaints about his sect’s swordsmanship. After all, it was the Zhongnan Sect
that had brought him this far, and their sword techniques formed the foundation
of his skills.
But... Jongli
Gok remembered.
He
remembered seeing the sword of Namgung Hwang. He remembered seeing the sword of
Heo Do.
In his
youth, Jongli Gok believed his sword was equal to theirs. He was confident he
would surpass them one day.
Yet as the
years passed, he came to realize something. While he could block their swords,
he could never pierce through them. His sword, designed not to lose but not to
win either, had inherent limitations.
When he
grasped this truth, the despair he felt was beyond words.
It wasn’t
that he couldn’t become the best in the world. It was the realization that his
successors would inevitably arrive at the same conclusion that left him in
despair.
He could
accept his own limitations. But he could not accept the limitations of his
sect. And he absolutely could not tolerate the despair his successors would
feel.
Thus, he
took a step he should never have taken.
He regretted
it, and he felt guilty. But...
Paaang!
At that
moment, Jeok Ho unleashed a powerful surge of blade energy.
Jongli Gok
instinctively swung his sword. His mastery of post-initiative strikes allowed
him to deflect the blade energy with ease once again.
Paaaaaang!
But then,
from behind Jeok Ho’s blade energy, a brilliant white aura erupted like an
explosion.
‘Ugh!’
Jongli Gok
held his breath.
Countless
movements wove together into an intricate display, surging forward like a
ferocious waterfall.
Caught off
guard by the sudden attack, Jongli Gok prepared to defend himself, even at the
cost of some injury.
“Tsk tsk.”
A faint
clicking of the tongue was followed by something unfurling in front of him.
‘A fan?’
A white fan
adorned with elegant cranes gently fluttered. It multiplied into dozens,
filling the space before him.
The fans
floated gracefully, twisted in peculiar arcs, and danced as if circling flowers
in bloom.
Kwakwaakwaang!
The white
aura collided with the fans and dissipated.
Thanks to
this, Jongli Gok emerged unscathed, rendering his earlier resolve to sustain
injury unnecessary.
“Just so you
know...”
The image of
the Nokrim King, Im Sobyeong, entered Jongli Gok's view. Im Sobyeong's face
radiated smug satisfaction.
“You owe me
one.”
....Jongli
Gok thought that perhaps losing an arm would have been a better outcome.
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