Chapter 405
## Chapter 405. The Reason for the Struggle (5)
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Hyeon-yeong of the Wudang Sect.
As a member of the ‘Hyeon’ generation of disciples, he shared the same generational rank as Yong-so-ah, yet peculiarly, he had never studied at the Murim Academy. Given that the prestigious institutions of the Nine Great Sects and One Union, the Five Great Noble Families, and the One Hundred and Eight Peaks routinely pushed any student possessing even a modicum of capability to sit for the Murim Civil Service Exam—solely to secure influential positions within the hierarchy of the Murim Alliance—it was only natural that the consensus within the Wudang Sect branded him as utterly devoid of talent.
As was frequently the case for the ‘Hyeon’ generation disciples of the Wudang Sect, Hyeon-yeong existed as little more than a ghost concealed beneath the magnificent radiance of ‘Yong-so-ah.’ No soul within the *Kangho* recognized his name, for he possessed no record of achievement within the Murim Academy nor any history within the Murim Alliance.
In a strange twist of fate, his renown only began to manifest after he chose a life of isolated meditation deep within the Wudang Sect.
This occurred during the midpoint of the Great War between the Orthodox and Demonic. It was an era when over half of the groups comprising the One Hundred and Eight Peaks had been laid to waste, and the vanguard of the Demonic Cult had shifted its focus toward the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Noble Families. The Heavenly Demon Black Sword Squad, recognized as the premier strike force of the Demonic Cult, divided its strength into two detachments, marching simultaneously toward Shaolin and Wudang.
It was an audacious strategy born of immense pride, given how effortlessly numerous factions of the White Way Murim had shattered beneath their weapons. Furthermore, because the bulk of the Murim Alliance’s forces had massed in southern Hubei to intercept the oncoming Demonic Cult battalions rising from Jiangnan, the central fortresses and mountain sanctuaries of the respective sects were virtually unguarded.
Yet, during that critical juncture, Il-gak and the One Hundred and Eight Arhats remaining at Shaolin successfully halted the advance of the Heavenly Demon Black Sword Squad, validating their reputation as the Mt. Tai and North Star of the Murim, before immediately rushing to reinforce Wudang. At that precise moment, the vast majority of Wudang’s core strength, including Yong-so-ah, was deployed in Hunan. Left undefended, the vacant peak of Wudang was on the verge of being utterly crushed beneath the Demonic Cult’s advance.
Yet, when the monks of Shaolin arrived in breathless haste at Wudang, they stood paralyzed by the spectacle taking place at Wudang’s Sword-Washing Pond. The Wudang Seven Heroes and Hyeon-yeong. A mere eight practitioners had annihilated the entire Heavenly Demon Black Sword Squad, leaving them as nothing but forgotten spirits.
From that day forward, the denizens of the *Kangho* bestowed a title of immense reverence upon Hyeon-yeong, a man whose existence had previously been entirely anonymous.
Wudang-susin Hyeon-yeong.
His failure to step into the wider world was not born of a lack of capability. Rather, his innate genius was so overwhelming that it had to be contained. Within the Wudang Sect where Yong-so-ah commanded center stage, there was no room for two separate prodigies. Yong-so-ah, destined to ascend to the highest peaks of heaven, would draw upon the primary essence of Wudang to soar across the land, while the foundation of Wudang would be secured by Hyeon-yeong. Such was the century-long strategy devised by the leadership of the Wudang Sect.
*‘Damn it. Why on earth is this guardian deity showing up in a place like this?’*
In contrast to Yong-so-ah, his features were remarkably ordinary, and his simple training clothes initially sparked a desperate hope that he might be a different person entirely, but I forced myself to snap out of it.
*‘No matter how exceptional the Wudang Seven Heroes might have been, they were fundamentally outmatched by the Heavenly Demon Black Sword Squad. Their ability to decimate that squad rested entirely upon the sheer, unadulterated power of Hyeon-yeong!’*
Even now, the spot on my sternum where he had landed a blow earlier throbbed with pain. Had it not been for the protection of the Thousand-Silk Treasure Cloth provided by my father, that single strike might have shattered me completely.
“Young Hero Jin.”
His eyes shifted briefly to Dam-ak, who was bound tightly to my back, before locking onto me once more.
“For what purpose are you putting your life on the line for such a useless (*mu-yong*) endeavor?”
Useless, he called it……. Why is it that these Wudang hypocrites always measure worth and hand down judgments based entirely on their own whims? I quickly channeled my internal energy to mend the damage within. The agonizing pulsation slowly began to ebb away.
“What makes you deem this useless?”
“What profit do you stand to gain by preserving his life?”
Absurdly enough, despite being fully aware that I was merely talking to buy myself time, Hyeon-yeong chose to indulge my questioning. Was his confidence truly that absolute?
“As a consequence of these actions, you will be branded by the entire martial world as a pariah to the White Way Murim, you have earned the enmity of the Nine Great Sects and One Union, and the reputation of being a Black Way martial artist—a title you so fiercely despised—will now become an undeniable reality that follows you to the grave.”
Regardless of the seconds I managed to extract from him, he likely viewed me as nothing more than a cornered rodent. Yet, there was a critical variable he failed to account for. He was entirely unaware that I possessed the extraordinary regenerative traits of the Ten-Thousand-Year Earth Bear. As my internal energy flowed through my meridians, the agony of my wounds rapidly receded. My labored breathing had nearly stabilized.
“Do you honestly believe I only move when there is a personal advantage?”
“If that is not the case…… why throw away your precious existence for a man like Dam-ak?”
Why…… he demanded to know the reason.
“Because I refuse to let war break out. You bloodthirsty hypocrite.”
Hearing my reply, Hyeon-yeong appeared momentarily caught off guard, losing his words for a brief second. Nonetheless, he quickly recovered, speaking with that cold, unyielding composure so characteristic of the Wudang Sect elite.
“There are times when blood must be spilled to protect a greater virtue. I, too, stand prepared to offer my life at a moment’s notice.”
Look at this arrogant bastard.
“Every single swordsman within the White Way Murim shares this exact conviction. They will gladly perish at any hour for the preservation of the Established Path (*Jeong-do*) and the laws of righteousness. Among those who live by the blade, who is there that has not resolved themselves to that minimum standard?”
The terrible events of the Sichuan Blood Tragedy and the devastating Great War between the Orthodox and Demonic from my previous existence had ignited under that very brand of rhetoric. Yes, it was always the same. Every instance of slaughter and ruin invariably cloaked itself in a grand crusade. It was sickening. These pretenders who spoke so easily of martyrdom without ever comprehending the true weight of the values they carelessly threw around.
“Are you blind to the fact that war demands the lives of the most vulnerable as its currency?”
“…….”
He likely had no concept of it. He had undoubtedly never spent a single moment enduring the existence of the helpless.
“And that very martyrdom is almost always forced upon them by the mandates of tyrants like yourself.”
“The forces of Orthodoxy neither compel nor dictate sacrifice.”
“Is that your claim? Then tell me, what are you willing to surrender?”
The man offered his reply without a solitary moment of doubt.
“Everything.”
I truly wonder if those words hold weight. When confronted with a reality where a genuine, painful loss is demanded of you, will you truly be able to surrender it so freely?
“I will execute Dam-ak this very instant.”
“You have chosen wisely——.”
“And then I will march directly to the Saheuk-ryeon and take the life of the Alliance Leader of the Saheuk-ryeon as well.”
“…….”
“In return for this, you must take the life of your own master, Cheong-su Jin-in.”
Hyeon-yeong’s placid expression shattered as his eyes widened in shock.
“If you perform that single act of devotion, you will secure the safety of the Orthodoxy just as you desire. What say you?”
“……That is completely absurd. For what logical reason should I strike down my own master?”
Look at that, we are finally having an honest conversation. I stared at his confounded expression and tightened my fingers around my hilt.
“That is precisely what you demand of the weak, you ignorant fool.”
In that exact breath, I unleashed the technique I had been gathering my strength for.
White Moon Ascending Heaven Three Styles.
First Style.
Extreme Speed (*Geuk-kwae*).
*Sswwaeeek—*
Cleaving through the atmosphere, my blade tore across Hyeon-yeong’s midsection in a flash. His silhouette was instantly severed in twain. And yet,
*‘There is no impact!’*
Not a single drop of blood erupted from the partitioned form. Instead, his image flickered like mist and dissolved into nothingness. From behind the fading illusion, the real Hyeon-yeong surged forward, his weapon whistling through the air.
*Sswwaeeek—*
I pivoted instantly, countering with the motions of the Small Heaven Sword Technique.
*Ching-ching-ching-ching-ching—*
Within the span of a single breath, more than ten fierce clashes of steel reverberated between us, and as I leaped backward to reset my stance, a piece of his torn sleeve drifted silently to the earth.
“How did that feel? The accumulated malice of the helpless filling……”
*Sseugeok—*
In that same instant, the fabric across the chest of my own attire split open in a long line.
*‘When…… did he manage that?’*
While I stood frozen in disbelief, his calm voice drifted across the space.
“Impressive. To think that your physical condition has already completely mended. It seems I truly cannot afford a single moment of carelessness against you.”
What kind of monster was this? How could a man possess such terrifying strength while remaining entirely devoid of arrogance? Dealing with an opponent who refused to underestimate you was the ultimate nightmare!
“The malice of the helpless, you claim…… I have tolerated your empty philosophy long enough. In the end, your journey terminates right here.”
“Do you honestly believe I will simply sit still and allow you to dictate my end?”
“We shall see. That is for the blade to decide.”
Hyeon-yeong drew his weapon backward, tracing the steel with his index and ring fingers before raising it in a perfectly vertical guard before his chest. It was the stance of one of Wudang’s most guarded methods, the Taiji Thirteen Postures (*Tae-geuk-sip-sam-se*). A swirling, ethereal vortex of energy manifested the faint outline of a Taiji symbol before him. I ground my teeth together in frustration.
A sudden gale stirs. This is no ordinary wind born of random atmospheric currents blowing aimlessly into the void. It is a torrent of energy possessing a distinct origin and a targeted path. This is no wild manifestation of nature. This is, from start to finish, an extraordinary marvel (*gi-jeok*) wrought by human hands.
It feels gentle, fluid, and entirely unhurried. Yet, despite the deliberate pace, not a single vulnerability can be detected across his entire stance.
The Taiji Thirteen Postures. A martial system comprising a mere thirteen fundamental forms, yet so endlessly deep it defied comprehension, was unfolding from the fingertips of the man destined to live as Yong-so-ah’s shadow.
*‘What kind of shadow operates like this…… his mastery is on par with the grand patriarch of an entire lineage.’*
It defied reason that the elders of Wudang would relegate a man who had entirely perfected the Taiji Thirteen Postures—an art that typically demands a decade just to grasp the rudimentary basics—before even reaching his thirtieth year to serve merely as an anonymous protector. Were the leaders of Wudang completely blind?
*‘No, it simply means the true depth of Wudang’s hidden power is that terrifying.’*
It was a grim reminder that a sect which had maintained supreme dominance for centuries possessed foundations that ran unfathomably deep. Regardless, there was no room for hesitation. Whether confronted by an unyielding fortress or an ancient, towering tree, I had to shatter it and forge a path forward this very second.
*Kreeeeeeeeek—*
A jarring, unnatural shriek echoed from the blade of the Red Light Sword. I knew with absolute certainty that breaking through his defense required an unshakeable intent to slaughter the adversary. I activated the Small Heaven Sword Technique, channeling the entirety of my nearly one hundred years of combat wisdom forged in my past life.
*Sswwaaeeeek—*
Small Heaven Sword Technique.
Breaking the Rule (*Pa-gyeok*).
I lunged forward, adopting the most direct path with maximum destructive velocity. And yet.
*‘What is this……?’*
The Small Heaven Sword Technique, which should have sliced through the opponent’s defenses without a moment’s delay, began to decelerate rapidly on its own accord, as if wading through a dense swamp before it could even make contact with his steel.
*‘His manipulation of the surrounding air currents has reached this level?’*
Did he register my momentary shock? Before I could transition into my subsequent form, he slipped directly through the sudden fracture in my stance.
*Shuk— shuk— shushuk—*
His steps were visibly deliberate, yet four distinct, lethal trajectories manifested from his weapon simultaneously.
*Ching-ching-ching!*
I parried the incoming strikes and immediately rolled into the Twin Heaven Sword Decisive. A chaotic storm of steel erupted, enveloping his entire form in a web of lethal trajectories.
*Fwoooosh—*
Employing deliberate slowness to neutralize blinding speed. Utilizing minimal movement to redirect a barrage. Applying fluid softness to shatter absolute force.
*Ting-ting-ting-ting-ting—*
Yet, dozens, even hundreds of my strikes were effortlessly deflected by his unhurried and adaptable maneuvers. This was the absolute pinnacle of the Taiji Thirteen Postures. Simply witnessing someone unlock its secrets was remarkable enough, but this man was actively demonstrating a mastery that had achieved the Tenth Realm of the Taiji Thirteen Postures.
*‘Fine, if you want a battle of endurance, so be it!’*
Does a flexible reed that withstands a tempest not ultimately fall with ease to the sharp edge of a simple blade?
*Sswwaeeek—*
More acute. More devastating. Faster. I threw myself into his space. A multitude of strikes, saturated with dense sword qi, cascaded toward him. These were unadorned, direct attacks (*jeong-geom*), entirely devoid of deceptive feints or illusory transformations.
*Wooooom—*
The atmospheric pressure within his domain briefly ensnared the oncoming energy, but his control was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the assault.
*Crack— crack—*
Confronted by the weight of the strike, his boots dragged against the earth as he was forced backward inch by inch.
*“……To hell with your ‘softness overcoming strength’ (*yu-neung-je-gang*)!”*
Under the immense strain, Hyeon-yeong’s complexion flushed a deep crimson. I seized the very momentum he attempted to deflect, ruthlessly pressing my advantage further and further into his guard. Then, just as I prepared to deliver the decisive blow, his free hand unleashed the strikes of the Two-Principles Fist Technique.
*Bang-bang-bang-bang-bang-bang!*
“Ugh……”
A paralyzing shockwave rippled through my frame, and exploiting that fractional lapse in my pressure, his weapon deflected the trajectory of my primary strike. Though shallow cuts opened across his torso due to the forced alteration of his path, he ignored the damage entirely, maintaining a relentless counteroffensive to capitalize on my momentary instability.
*Ching-ching-ching-ching-ching!*
As I navigated the incoming strikes—which lacked the lethality I anticipated—and evaded them without major difficulty, a sudden realization sparked within my mind.
*‘You deceptive bastard!’*
His objective was never me; his blade was tracking Dam-ak. The most lethal, precise thrust was tracing a path toward Dam-ak’s unprotected vitals. Driven by pure instinct, I thrust my own limb into the path of the blade.
*Puchuk—*
“Jin-gong-ja……!!”
As his weapon impaled itself deeply through my left forearm, both Hyeon-yeong and Dam-ak widened their eyes in absolute astonishment. In that exact instant, realizing he had squandered his golden opportunity, Hyeon-yeong attempted to wrench his weapon free to re-establish the defense of the Taiji Thirteen Styles, but I unleashed the ultimate technique I had held in reserve until this very moment.
*Ching!*
“What madness is this……”
A look of utter bewilderment washed over Hyeon-yeong’s face.
Shattering the defensive flow of the Taiji Thirteen Styles by utilizing the destructive counter-principles of the Taiji Fist. Under normal circumstances, such an act belonged to an impossible paradigm. They were treated as entirely separate martial philosophies. And yet, the Taiji Thirteen Styles was fundamentally an offshoot that originated from the core tenets of the Taiji Fist. I had exercised grueling restraint up until this moment solely to exploit the single, fleeting opening hidden within his transitions.
“What does it look like? It’s the sound of your defense collapsing!”
Even an entity as monstrous as Yong-so-ah had been utterly paralyzed when first facing this, so his current confusion was entirely expected.
*Sseugeok—*
A deep, diagonal laceration erupted across his torso, carving a path from his right hip up to his left shoulder.
*Pshhh—*
As a torrent of blood sprayed from the wound, the concussive force of the Mutual Destruction Fist slammed directly into his lower dantian and middle dantian.
*Thwack!*
“Ugh!”
The moment I raised my sword to bring it down upon his skull as he spat a mouthful of crimson.
*Wooooom—*
His weapon instinctively manifested the circular flow of a Taiji once more, intercepting the descent of the Red Light Sword. It seemed the reputation of the Wudang-susin was far from an exaggeration.
*Peeng!*
Suddenly, a brilliant flare ignited against the distant horizon. Any further delay would only allow the enemy reinforcements to close the distance. I glared down at the faltering Hyeon-yeong and muttered in a low, dangerous tone.
“Consider yourself fortunate. I truly intended to show you the reality of what genuine sacrifice entails.”
Turning my back on Hyeon-yeong, whose expression had gone completely vacant with despair, I propelled myself away from the clearing. I had finally made it to Eun-hyeon. Just a fraction more…… a few more steps…… and I can bring this conflict to an end.
“Ji—Jin-gong-ja……”
Dam-ak’s panicked voice cut through the air from behind me. Was he losing his composure after witnessing the severity of my flesh wound?
“We have almost reached safety. Maintain your grip.”
I attempted to calm his rising dread, but.
“That is not the issue……”
The terror consuming him showed no signs of abating. Why was a man who normally treated his own existence with complete disregard suddenly paralyzed by such intense fear? The moment I pivoted my gaze to identify the source of Dam-ak’s horror.
*Sssss—*
Hyeon-yeong’s mangled form, which had been collapsed upon the dirt, began to lift into the air as if being hoisted by invisible cables.
“That psychotic bastard……”
His hair, previously secured tightly beneath his warrior’s headband, unraveled and whipped wildly into the sky, while his robes billowed outward with enough pressure to tear the fabric to shreds. His eyes had rolled completely backward into his skull, exposing nothing but blank whites as all remnants of sanity departed.
The man had actively unsealed his Innate Qi (*Seon-cheon-ji-gi*).
