Chapter 72

Qingjin of Wudang

Standing firm at the very center of the training grounds, Cheon Muyang waited for his opponent with an air of confidence and a bold smile.

"..."

However, after seeing Eon Somyeong—who had stepped forward so confidently—get utterly crushed, no one dared to move easily.

'Eon Somyeong isn't weak, but....'

For some reason, the rumor that Dragon Slayer Paeng Do-hyeok had been completely pulverized now felt true.

"No one else? Only one person has come out so far."

Feigning difficulty, Cheon Muyang soon grinned and spoke again.

"Then I suppose everyone here should return their gold invitations..."

"W-what nonsense are you spouting!"

"Well, think about it. You can't even beat someone with a bronze invitation..."

Whooong!

Cheon Muyang leveled his sword at the one who had spoken up.

"Ugh!"

A sharp killing intent wrapped around him.

"Why are you sitting up there acting so high and mighty?"

Cheon Muyang shrugged and continued.

"Am I wrong?"

"...!"

Forced as it sounded, it wasn't actually incorrect.

Among those with bronze—and some with silver—invitations, the more aggressive ones nodded.

"He's right."

"There's logic in Young Master Cheon's words!"

Grin.

"So they say."

"...."

"You damn bastard!"

Paeng Do-hyeok tried to step forward.

Seeing this, Cheon Muyang kept smiling, but a faint killing intent spilled out as a warning.

"This time, it won't end like before. Not with fists—with a sword."

"...!"

Paeng Do-hyeok froze.

His face turned beet-red, yet he couldn't bring himself to move.

It seemed he had calculated that he couldn't afford to be humiliated a third time.

"Damn it!"

Instead, Paeng Do-hyeok spat curses, smashed an innocent chair, and stormed off.

"Do whatever the hell you want!"

As Paeng Do-hyeok left in a fury, those holding gold invitations couldn't hide their confusion.

That was when—

[The Dragons and Phoenixes of the Nine Sects have arrived.]

Freeze!

Paeng Do-hyeok's steps halted.

At the same time, everyone turned their heads.

A group was approaching.

"Apologies for being late."

"...!"

"Ah, you've finally arrived."

Cheon Muyang smiled.

They could truly be called the real protagonists of this Yongbong Assembly.

"I-it's Wudang!"

"Mount Hua is here too!"

"Could it be… even Shaolin?"

Each year, the participants of the Yongbong Assembly were similar, yet slightly different.

Depending on the circumstances, sects like Wudang, Shaolin, or the Beggars' Sect sometimes didn't attend at all—so their arrival naturally drew everyone's attention.

As a result, all eyes that had been focused on Cheon Muyang instantly shifted to them.

Crunch.

Cheon Muyang saw Paeng Do-hyeok and Namgung Sang-hyeok grinding their teeth.

'As expected.'

Though they were all part of the righteous martial world, relations between the Nine Sects and the Ten Great Clans were not particularly good.

No matter how powerful the clans became, they could not surpass the symbolic authority of the Nine Sects.

Many found this reality unfair enough to resent it.

'Adult affairs, but still....'

Because of these circumstances, even a gathering of rising stars like the Yongbong Assembly inevitably split into factions.

'Which is why the clans banded together.'

At the center of that unity stood Paeng Do-hyeok and Namgung Sang-hyeok.

And on the first day of the Yongbong Assembly, the younger generation of the Nine Sects had yet to arrive.

Crack!

Paeng Do-hyeok, who had stopped walking, openly voiced his displeasure.

"You're always late, acting like protagonists. Why rush here now like the house is on fire?"

The disciples of the Nine Sects always arrived late, as if it were their prerogative.

Despite Paeng Do-hyeok's blatant complaint, some people finally seemed to realize something and widened their eyes.

A man in blue daoist robes bowed his head.

"I didn't realize it had always been that way."

A young monk followed with a half-bow.

"This is entirely my fault."

Several others even apologized in turn.

"...."

With things turning out this way, the one who had lost his temper—Paeng Do-hyeok—was left standing awkwardly.

The man in blue daoist robes delivered the finishing blow.

"We came out to see the world. It's hard to turn a blind eye to it."

"Ugh!"

In other words, attending the Yongbong Assembly wasn't their goal—seeing the world was.

Under normal circumstances, Paeng Do-hyeok would have charged with his blade immediately, but now he fell silent, as if facing Cheon Muyang again.

"Why did you come? Didn't you say you wouldn't attend the Yongbong Assembly?"

The smiling daoist replied cheerfully.

"Someone said this year's Assembly would be interesting. And aren't promises made to be broken?"

Glance.

Cheon Muyang didn't miss the fact that the man's gaze briefly shifted toward Hougae.

'So this too is part of the board you set up, Hougae?'

He really was an interesting fellow.

Knowing that Hougae had laid the groundwork for him, Cheon Muyang smiled.

[That's the one.]

The Wolf King's voice transmission came through.

"Hm?"

Turning his head again—

Bow.

The man even gave a small bow toward the Wolf King beside Hougae.

[Qingjin. A child who inherits Wudang's orthodox discipline.]

Cheon Muyang looked straight at him.

Qingjin was also looking at Cheon Muyang.

"Pleased to meet you, Young Master Cheon."

"You're from Wudang?"

"Yes. That's right."

"And you hold a gold invitation?"

"Well, I didn't want gold, but I was invited nonetheless."

Cheon Muyang smiled as he asked.

"Then what will you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm asking whether you'll join that gold group."

Qingjin smiled.

"And if I do?"

"Then you'll have to prove your qualifications with your sword."

"Ah, I wish you wouldn't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because it makes me want to cross swords with you, Young Master Cheon."

"...."

"So I hope you understand that it isn't my true intention."

At that moment—

A faint aura rose from Qingjin's entire body.

'As expected...!'

Cheon Muyang marveled inwardly.

The gently rising presence was utterly natural, flowing like water.

'Wudang, indeed.'

Was it an illusion?

Qingjin's standing figure appeared slightly blurred.

That alone spoke to the depth of his enlightenment.

Whoooong!

Qingjin drew his sword.

Its subtle radiance compelled admiration from all who saw it.

"Ah...."

His sword stance was natural.

So relaxed it almost looked careless, Qingjin somehow appeared naïve.

"...."

Yet the Cheon Muyang facing him felt a taut, unmistakable tension.

Under a tension stretched taut like a bowstring about to snap, Cheongwang began to radiate light.

'So. Your competitive spirit is burning too.'

Cheongwang was a greedy sword—one that longed to break famed blades.

And so, as deep as Qingjin's enlightenment was, his sword itself was a tempting offering to Cheongwang.

"Shall we try?"

"Gladly."

Step.

The two faced each other.

At some point, the air between them sank heavily.

Whooong!

Whoooong!

The two swords resonated as they met.

At the same time, Cheon Muyang's sword surged forward like lightning.

Screeech!

Riding a lofty, unstoppable trajectory, Cheongwang flew in as if it would cleave straight through Qingjin's torso.

At that, Qingjin let out a note of admiration.

"As expected… a splendid sword."

How could one say otherwise?

Qingjin truly admired the aching, elegant sword path Cheongwang traced.

Who in Wudang could possibly wield such a blade?

"However, Wudang's sword is not inferior either."

Qingjin's sword moved.

That unique motion, drawing a perfect circle, sought to twist and disrupt Cheongwang's trajectory.

'It's similar to Reverse Scale Slash, but different.'

If Reverse Scale Slash was like a dragon's wrath forcefully twisting everything aside,

Qingjin's circle carried a natural flow, like water cascading from above to below.

Paaat!

The two swords met.

Yet it was so silent and shockless that one might wonder if they had truly collided at all.

"...!"

Just as everyone began to doubt their ears—

Qingjin's circle reached completion.

And Cheongwang lost its force, like a leaf drifting along the flow of water.

Whooong!

That centrifugal force.

The perfect circle of Qingjin's flow completely pushed Cheongwang out of its orbit.

Screeech!

Though softly enveloped, Cheongwang was flung aside, while only Qingjin's sword surged forward with an unfathomable motion.

"It's over."

Everyone thought so.

No matter how strong Cheon Muyang was, surely he could not surpass Wudang's sword.

'No.'

But Qingjin did not let his guard down until the very end.

Because he held no prejudice, he did not relax simply because his opponent was Cheon Muyang.

"Tsk. A bunch of blind men with their eyes open."

The Wolf King watched Cheon Muyang with an intrigued smile.

Beside him, Wolyeong, Neung Ryeoun, and Cha Myeong-hak leaned in, listening to his words.

"Over?"

As the Wolf King finished speaking—

Screeech!

From somewhere, a chilling sound of air being torn apart rang out.

It came from directly above Qingjin's head.

"...!"

Cheongwang—thought to have been flung away—fell from above like a bolt of lightning.

"It's not over until it's over."

Flaaash!

Qingjin was horrified.

'The sky… is collapsing.'

One Sword, Heaven Collapses.

With a single sword strike, the sky itself crumbled.

Though overwhelmed by the sight, Qingjin did not let go of his sword.

Once more, he drew a circle.

His blade surged upward toward the collapsing sky, carrying a simple yet profoundly mysterious Dao.

Kuuuuung!

The two swords collided again.

A second clash.

Unlike before, a thunderous roar erupted from their point of contact, shaking the ground.

Kwaaaang!

Qingjin's body was pushed backward.

Not only that—he had to rotate his body to divert the Heaven-Collapsing sword.

Shraaaak!

Clang!

Barely managing to stop, Qingjin drove his sword into the ground to support himself.

"Hoo..."

A tremor ran through his entire body.

Every sense stood on edge.

Even now, his instincts screamed at him.

Dodge.

'To think such a sword could exist.'

Tremble.

The hand gripping Qingjin's sword shook.

That alone showed how fundamentally different Cheon Muyang's sword was.

"Truly… a magnificent sword."

"You as well."

Cheon Muyang felt the same.

He had believed it to be a blade that could shatter Qingjin's sword and decide the match in a single strike.

It was a sword that surpassed the Dantian, forged by integrating his recent enlightenment.

'He blocked the Heaven-Collapsing Sword.'

And he had blocked it perfectly.

It would not work twice.

Cheon Muyang fell into contemplation, wondering how to break that perfect circle of Qingjin's.

"Young Master Cheon."

"What is it?"

With a bright, innocent smile, Qingjin suddenly made a proposal.

"Since this too is fate, how about becoming friends with me?"

"Friends…?"

"Yes. I like Young Master Cheon's sword, and if you too like mine—"

"If I do?"

"Then we can certainly be called friends. Isn't that what one calls zhiyin ?"

Heh.

Cheon Muyang smiled as well.

"Zhiyin, huh."

A companion whose hearts resonated.

"Not bad."

"Isn't it?"

Qingjin extended his hand.

At that moment, the Wolf King's urgent voice transmission poured in.

[Don't get involved with that bastard. I warned you.]

However, Cheon Muyang paid it no heed and grasped Qingjin's hand.

"You're qualified to be a friend."

"Excellent."

"Then what about this match?"

"My defeat."

"Good."

"...!"

Everyone was shocked.

Yet Qingjin seemed to think it wasn't over yet, as he stepped to Cheon Muyang's side.

"And I also agree with Young Master Cheon's opinion. Whatever it may be."

A newly made friend.

Qingjin smiled warmly as he met the stunned gazes of everyone present.