Chapter 65
Songshan Gathering (4)
Baekri Cheong, who had been moving through Seongho Forest, came to a halt.
“How long do you intend to keep following me?”
As he spoke, his gaze shifted toward a tree on his left.
“Baekri Cheong.”
The figure hiding behind the tree slowly stepped forward.
On the collar of his brown martial robe, the two characters for Mount Heng (Hengshan) were embroidered diagonally.
It was Jingyeong of the Hengshan Sect.
The Baekri Family and the Hengshan Sect had maintained close relations since ancient times.
After all, both belonged within the vast region of Shanxi Province.
But that was a thing of the past.
After the Baekri Family was exterminated, all exchanges between the two forces had ceased.
“So, the place you ultimately chose to seek refuge was the Changcheon Association. What a pitiful existence you’ve become.”
“Pitiful? In what sense do you mean that?”
Jingyeong smirked.
“The Changcheon Association. It has a grand name, but isn’t it just a gathering place for losers who suffered the humiliation of having their sects and families destroyed?”
The relaxed curve of Baekri Cheong’s eyes stiffened.
Seeing that, Jingyeong’s smile deepened.
“And on top of that, I hear you use the excuse of exterminating the Sun Moon Demonic Cult to study each other’s martial arts. Truly a shameless bunch. Such a thing would never happen in a prestigious orthodox sect.”
“Jingyeong. You would do well to choose your words carefully.”
Jingyeong shook his head.
“If my words offended you, then I apologize. It’s just that seeing you fall from the Young Master of the Baekri Family to a mere member of the Changcheon Association is far too amusing.”
“There’s no need for us to exchange any more words.”
Without hesitation, Baekri Cheong placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Shiiing!
At the very moment he drew his sword, Jingyeong unleashed a sharp, swift attack.
Two sword thrusts aimed directly at both sides of Baekri Cheong’s chest shot forward with vicious momentum.
It was a strike carefully timed to catch the instant Baekri Cheong attempted to draw his blade.
I’ll finish this from the start.
Even in his own eyes, it was an exceptionally clean move.
Though it would not be enough to defeat Baekri Cheong outright, it should at least inflict a devastating wound.
Clang!
However, Baekri Cheong’s response exceeded all expectations.
The moment he saw the attack, his draw speed doubled, and with a single casual swing he deflected both thrusts in succession.
“You!”
“Were you expecting that to work? My apologies. I’ve been beaten around quite a bit by a younger brother who uses a swifter sword than yours.”
Boom!
Completely nullifying Jingyeong’s attack, Baekri Cheong stamped forward and surged ahead with fierce momentum.
The violent aura erupting from his entire body stained the surrounding air.
Startled by the unusually domineering energy, Jingyeong hurriedly drew his sword back toward himself.
That isn’t a martial art of the Baekri Family.
Jingyeong immediately recalled the most solid technique of the Hengshan Sect’s Cliff Edge Sword Art.
Five layers of sword trajectories overlapped one another, forming a vertical strike as steep and imposing as a sheer cliff.
Following Torrent, Severing Cliff.
Baekri Cheong knew the technique well.
Not only was the move itself exceptionally sturdy, but hidden within it was a razor-sharp edge as unyielding as a cliff face, making it easy for an opponent to suffer a counterattack if they confronted it carelessly.
How could he not know it?
As a child, he had been thoroughly beaten by it during a friendly spar between the Baekri Family and the Hengshan Sect.
Ordinarily, widening the distance would be the wisest choice.
But Baekri Cheong did not stop.
Instead, he accelerated his movement technique even further.
Whoosh!
The aura swelling from his entire body gathered together and concentrated into a single sword strike.
His sword unleashed terrifying power and tore through the air.
BOOOOM!
With a thunderous explosion, the cliff-like sword attack shattered in a single blow.
“Urgh!”
With a cry, Jingyeong was blasted backward while still holding the posture of his attack.
He crashed into a tree behind him and staggered, coughing up blood.
Barely managing to remain standing, Jingyeong glared at Baekri Cheong through half-sunken eyes.
“You! Just what kind of martial art is that?”
“Geukmu Chongseongyeol.”
Baekri Cheong raised his sword and pointed it at him.
“The martial art of the Changcheon Association—the very thing you judged so carelessly.”
“The martial arts of the Changcheon Association? Impossible! They could never withstand the martial arts of my sect!”
Shouting angrily, Jingyeong charged forward.
The techniques of the Cliff Edge Sword Art, shifting from defense to offense, became savage and dangerous.
One after another, sword forms embodying the harsh and rugged terrain of Mount Heng unfolded.
As though the internal injuries he had just suffered were nothing at all, Jingyeong’s sword continued to flow without hesitation.
For an orthodox sect’s martial art, its techniques carried an unusually strong killing intent and practical brutality.
Partly because the art embodied the essence and terrain of Mount Heng, but also because the sect had long faced martial artists descending from the northern martial world into northern Shanxi, causing its style to naturally evolve in a more combative direction.
In the past, it would have been difficult to deal with.
But not now.
It was not simply a matter of compatibility between the White Immortal Sword Art and Geukmu Chongseongyeol.
After joining the Changcheon Association, Baekri Cheong had undeniably grown stronger.
His resolve to rebuild his exterminated family.
The new comrades and martial arts he had gained.
And even a younger brother blessed with extraordinary talent.
The Changcheon Association had tempered him in every possible way.
No matter how dangerous and ferocious Hengshan’s swordsmanship might be, the martial path Baekri Cheong had built since the destruction of his family was not something light or shallow.
BOOM!
His sword, carrying the domineering energy of Geukmu Chongseongyeol, unleashed a massive trajectory.
Geukmu Chongseongyeol and the White Immortal Sword Art.
A strike that skillfully fused the principles of both martial arts flooded forward head-on and instantly crushed the ultimate techniques of the Cliff Edge Sword Art.
CRAAASH!
Five techniques shattered in succession.
Jingyeong coughed up blood.
The thick cloud of dust erupting around Baekri Cheong testified to the overwhelming power contained within that single strike.
“Ghk... There’s no way I could lose to the likes of you...!”
Seeing that Jingyeong still showed no sign of retreat despite staggering on his feet, Baekri Cheong frowned.
“I knew your pride stood as high as Mount Heng itself, but I never realized it was so lofty that you couldn’t even accept the outcome.”
Just as Baekri Cheong was approaching to subdue Jingyeong after staring at him for a moment—
A middle-aged man suddenly appeared behind Jingyeong and restrained him.
It was a clean and experienced move.
After rendering Jingyeong unconscious through a pressure-point strike, the man pulled out an iron token from his robes.
“As a supervisor, I hereby announce that Jingyeong of the Hengshan Sect has been eliminated from the contest.”
The middle-aged man tossed Jingyeong’s iron token to Baekri Cheong.
“Do you intend to rebuild the Baekri Family someday?”
“I most certainly do.”
At the firm reply, the middle-aged man studied Baekri Cheong for a moment.
“I sincerely hope that day comes.”
The man disappeared with Jingyeong in tow, but his voice suddenly reached Baekri Cheong through sound transmission.
Back then, I am sorry and ashamed that our sect did not help the Baekri Family.
Baekri Cheong flinched.
The supervisor's identity had been concealed beneath plain robes and a mask, making it impossible to determine which sect he belonged to.
Yet judging by his words, he appeared to be a supervisor from the Hengshan Sect.
Baekri Cheong stared at the iron token engraved with the characters for Hengshan for a long while.
After letting out a faint sigh, he moved off in search of his next opponent.
His steps were filled with strength.
***
Yeongil, the chief disciple of the Huashan Sect, steadied his ragged breathing.
By chance, he had encountered one rising expert after another.
Fortunately, he had managed to defeat them all, but he still needed time to recover his breath.
The Beggar Sect’s Dog-Beating Staff Art. As expected, it is a remarkable technique.
Yeongil rubbed his wrist.
The relentless offensive had been so fierce that the lingering shock remained even now.
Three so far, is it?
Obtaining iron tokens was proving more difficult than expected.
Although the formation restricted the participants' area of movement, Seongho Forest was still vast.
Moreover, because this was not a formal sparring match governed by rules but something closer to real combat, opponents often fled to protect their tokens once they found themselves at a disadvantage.
A moment's judgment was crucial.
Carelessly pursuing someone could result in a meaningless waste of time and stamina.
Finding people was difficult enough, but obtaining tokens from opponents whose movements were unpredictable was even harder.
If I can collect two more at a leisurely pace, that should place me among the top three rising experts.
Five tokens would represent a quarter of the total, making a high ranking all but certain.
Resting atop a boulder, Yeongil’s expression suddenly hardened.
A presence had entered the range of his perception, and it was anything but ordinary.
Holding his Plum Blossom Sword, Yeongil slowly rose to his feet.
Step.
Footsteps echoed from afar, gradually drawing closer.
At the same time, the presence within his perception became increasingly distinct.
Yeongil let out a hollow chuckle.
Whether from the Three Sects and One Gang or the Five Great Sword Sects, every rising expert he had encountered so far had been busy avoiding him.
He knew exactly why.
Both he and the younger generation understood the truth.
If one were to rank the rising experts, Yeongil would undoubtedly be among the top two.
If there is anyone who can truly match me, it would be Samgyeong of Wudang.
Other than Samgyeong of the Wudang Sect, he was confident he could defeat anyone.
Yet the man who appeared before him did not flee.
Instead, he openly revealed his presence and continued closing the distance.
“Young Hero Namgung.”
“Daoist Yeongil.”
The two swordsmen faced one another in silence.
In the end, Yeongil spoke first.
“How many iron tokens have you gathered? I have three.”
“Seven.”
“Seven?”
Yeongil repeated the number in disbelief.
Namgung Jun casually opened his hand and showed him seven iron tokens.
Yeongil’s eyes widened.
In Namgung Jun’s hand were tokens from every faction imaginable, whether from the Three Sects and One Gang or the Five Great Sword Sects.
Meeting seven opponents in such a short time is already astonishing enough. But he defeated all of them?
Either his stamina and internal energy far exceeded expectations, or he possessed such overwhelming martial prowess that every battle ended quickly.
Whichever it was, it was anything but ordinary.
“Surely...”
“I met Daoist Samgyeong of Wudang not long ago. He was fairly strong.”
“Fairly strong?”
Samgyeong was not someone who deserved such a casual evaluation.
After staring at Namgung Jun for a long moment, Yeongil suddenly burst into laughter.
“It seems the hidden dragon of this gathering was someone else entirely.”
Slowly, Yeongil drew his Plum Blossom Sword.
“I am Yeongil, chief disciple of the Huashan Sect. Young Hero Namgung, I challenge you.”
“Please.”
Namgung Jun humbly rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
His attitude suggested that Yeongil’s challenge was only natural.
Yet there was not the slightest trace of arrogance in his bearing.
Everything about him felt utterly natural.
What was it about Namgung Jun that created such an atmosphere?
Even with all the instincts Yeongil had sharpened throughout his life as a martial artist, he could not see through the young man.
It felt as though Namgung Jun were hidden behind lofty clouds.
His aura itself is nothing particularly extraordinary.
Yeongil could vaguely sense it.
The power Namgung Jun possessed was not limited to what appeared on the surface.
Only by crossing swords with him would he learn its true value.
“I shall bear the shame and make the first move.”
While observing Namgung Jun, Yeongil admitted the truth.
That he was the inferior one.
The youth before him was clearly concealing some kind of power.
And Yeongil lacked the ability to fully discern it.
Even if I lose, that is fine.
Yeongil watched Namgung Jun’s sword slowly slide from its scabbard.
Simply witnessing the hidden brilliance concealed beneath the surface would be reward enough.
BOOM!
With a powerful step, Yeongil's sword traced a crimson arc.
Delicate sword trajectories carved through the air, leaving countless red streaks behind.
As the crimson paths scattered in all directions and formed an elegant flow, sword images bloomed like drifting flower petals, accompanied by a captivating fragrance.
This scent... plum blossoms.
Before he realized it, the fragrance of plum blossoms was tickling his nose.
But Namgung Jun remained unmoved.
Whoosh!
A blue radiance emerged from Namgung Jun’s blade as violent winds began to gather around it.
The azure sword wind swept through the air, mercilessly toying with the petals scattered by Yeongil’s sword.