Chapter 181 – Swordsman (4)

He declared that a single exchange would suffice for all the warriors participating in the Opening Tournament.

He had spoken of a “single-move victory.” It was a manner of speech and conduct rarely encountered in the righteous martial world.

Few battles are as unpredictable as a duel between masters.

For a short-term decisive clash, luck must accompany martial prowess, compatibility of techniques, and the condition of vital meridians.

Not every sparring match would truly end in a single move.

Yet the Lightning Genius demonstrated the caliber of the black rank with one sword strike. No one could challenge the words he had boldly uttered.

“…”

The silence bestowed by the Lightning Genius, Jeong Yeon-shin, was profound.

For a moment, as the crowd lost their words, even the autumn breeze blowing heedless of human affairs felt unfamiliar.

It was a stillness not easily broken. This was so even in a gathering filled with esteemed figures from across the vast martial world.

Step.

Beside the flagpole planted by the Divine Hero of Desolate Fortress, Hyeon Won-chang, the hem of a black robe shifted slightly.

Wearing a jet-black long robe, Jeong Yeon-shin lowered his eyelids faintly, hands clasped behind his back. It was beneath the white flag bearing the bold character “Desolate” fluttering vigorously.

At last.

His exceptional appearance, martial might, and dignity elicited gasps of admiration. Murmurs began to spill from various corners.

“An otherworldly presence. To think such a youth exists in the martial world?”

“They say the Sword Saint of Mount Hua was a rival to the previous Radiant Demon Wing Leader. If he’s of Desolate Fortress’s black rank, he’s worthy of discussing martial arts alongside the immortals of the Nine Sects. A being you’d be lucky to encounter once in a lifetime. Are there even a hundred like him across the vast Nine Provinces under heaven?”

“At that age… I can’t believe it even after seeing it!”

Nearly a thousand gazes from all directions fell upon the boy. Faces showed astonishment, blankness, or disbelief.

In a world where even those living at the crossroads of civilization struggle to receive news from afar, information was scarce.

Carrier pigeons were rare, and only a handful of prestigious families bred spirit beasts for messaging.

Rumors spread through human couriers and horses. Trust in the systems of the world’s many factions was in disarray.

Even if a young boy donned a black robe, it was hard to grasp his martial prowess without witnessing it firsthand.

“Isn’t that a sword technique beyond the reach of spiritual elixirs? Such unfathomable precision.”

“I’d heard rumors of his renown in Sichuan, but…”

Even those few who had seen Jeong Yeon-shin at the Clear Night Valley in South Zhili felt the same.

It had been less than a year since he, as a blue-rank warrior, faced off against Namgung Mi, the Flourishing Spirit Flower Lord, and Namgung Young Master, the Azure Qilin.

Just a few months. An incomprehensible rise in martial skill defied common logic.

A swordsman in the crowd muttered. Had he lived decades in a timeless utopia?

“Step down.”

Jeong Yeon-shin spoke, addressing Ye Yun-zhe, who stood disheveled with scattered hair.

The gleam of ambition had vanished from the eyes of Ye Yun-zhe, the Radiant Zen Sword. It was as if his spirit had fled along with his severed locks.

He showed no inclination to contest the single-exchange victory.

What emotions the Lightning Genius’s sword had stirred in him, having witnessed it face-to-face as a sparring opponent, remained unknown.

“True martial arts…”

Ye Yun-zhe opened his mouth slowly.

“For displaying it, I am grateful.”

He raised his sword-bearing left hand and clasped it with his right. Due to the sword, his clasped-fist salute tilted slightly upward.

The blade that had grazed his nape scattered light.

It was a custom altered by prestigious families during the late Yuan dynasty’s wars, now used in the martial world to signify exceptional satisfaction with a sparring match.

The boy’s eyes widened slightly.

At their first encounter, he had seen greed in his opponent’s face, considering him just another figure among the masses of prestigious clans.

Now, it was different. His composed demeanor and expression spoke otherwise.

When it came to martial arts, could anyone in the righteous martial world—even the likes of the last Azure Qilin—wear such an expression?

“Mind your stamina allocation. I wish you martial fortune.”

Step.

With a brief word of goodwill, Ye Yun-zhe, the Radiant Zen Sword, turned away. He didn’t wait for the Lightning Genius’s response.

Sheathing his sword, he stepped off the sparring stage, as if ashamed of his earlier behavior.

It was said that sometimes a lesser warrior, glimpsing a fragment of a master’s martial principles, undergoes a transformation of mind and body.

Jeong Yeon-shin grew curious.

What had Ye Yun-zhe, this warrior, seen in the trajectory of a nameless sword technique even he himself didn’t fully understand?

‘It didn’t seem hypocritical.’

Perhaps they would meet again. A warmth pulsed from the Hundred Meetings acupoint, where spiritual energy resided in his upper dantian.

It felt as if it were speaking to its owner briefly. This might be a good connection, it seemed to say.

He surveyed his surroundings.

His gaze swept over the warriors, merchants, armed escorts, powerless commoners, and beggars encircling the sparring stage below.

He also noticed the masters standing or clinging to the watchtowers stretching in all directions, each in their distinct attire.

People living full lives.

He had never taken in such a crowd at a glance before.

The boy’s eyes, sweeping over the masses, grew calm. The faces within his vision displayed a myriad of expressions.

The envy and admiration of strangers brushed past his sight, resonating through his upper dantian’s spiritual sense.

‘So many people, living fifty years, a hundred years…’

Praise felt burdensome. Jealousy seemed laughable.

The reactions to the martial aptitude of Jeong Yeon-shin were like a verse that made him keenly aware of his lifespan.

Yet the deepest inferiority lay within the boy himself.

What would it feel like to live a life where the cliff’s edge was far away? Even in a world where few reached their natural lifespan…

Jeong Yeon-shin blinked once. He closed his eyes deeply, then opened them.

“…This Leader will not rest until the sun sets. Let the next warrior step forward.”

The Lightning Genius spoke, raising his eyelashes.

Standing upright on the sparring stage, he appeared noble. Waves of force flowed from his entire body.

The Wind Body movement technique. A gentle breeze began to ceaselessly caress the hem of his black robe.

Though he seemed utterly still, the subtle ripples of his refined lightness technique made many warriors flinch.

Even without facing him directly, they knew. It was unmistakably advanced martial learning.

Swallowing his inner thoughts, the boy stood as the black-rank leader of Desolate Fortress.

The crowd’s expressions shifted.

Now, even curiosity glimmered. The atmosphere matched the festival’s spirit.

Desolate Fortress had long been a major faction that drew strength from the people’s sentiment, more so than the Nine Sects.

Unless one was tied to the Alliance, few would resent seeing a young leader of Desolate Fortress boldly display his martial prowess.

“I am So Jun.”

The Lone Hero of Ruzhou stepped forward first. It was the natural flow. Zhuge Qian, the acting leader, retreated beneath the canopy of the Alliance leadership.

As deep shade engulfed the refined middle-aged man, the crowd’s gazes remained fixed solely on the sparring stage.

Jeong Yeon-shin regarded So Jun, the Lone Hero of Ruzhou, steadily.

The middle-aged man couldn’t hide his dismay. The Lone Hero of Ruzhou and the Lightning Genius.

He had witnessed the boy’s single sword exchange with Ye Yun-zhe from the closest vantage point. He seemed to have fully grasped the disparity in martial skill.

Yet stepping back wasn’t an option.

So Jun raised a respectful clasped-fist salute. His bearing was that of a true orthodox warrior. As a mid-tier master of the righteous martial world, he was widely respected.

“Born in Ruzhou, Shaanxi, I trained at the One Origin Martial Hall, a secular branch of the Kunlun Sect. I am but a crude scholar who has superficially learned the peripheral martial lineage of Kunlun.”

“From Xinye County, Henan. I inherited the Radiant Demon Technique of Desolate Fortress.”

The boy returned a brief courtesy.

He offered no more information than necessary.

Rather than confirming that his main mastery was a unique technique, it was better to let them scramble to decipher a nonexistent counter.

Among the over forty mid-tier masters he would face ahead were the Yan Family’s First Fist and Mount Hua’s Sword Saint.

These were titles he’d heard since before the Jeong family suffered its calamity of annihilation. Their fame was immense. They were deemed worthy rivals even to Desolate Fortress’s black rank.

Mount Hua’s Sword Saint, Taoist Cheon Ju, had been a rival to Ma Jin.

For a newly appointed leader of Desolate Fortress to discuss victory over a veteran master of the Nine Sects, he would need to push his innate senses to their limits.

‘The key is how little of my core martial arts I reveal before reaching them.’

That would require an overwhelmingly dominant process.

The boy fixed his gaze ahead. The Lone Hero of Ruzhou, So Jun, approached with peculiar footwork.

Thud. Thud.

Something changed each time his heel struck the ground. It was the direction of his energy waves. Dust twisted at his feet.

The ripples spreading from his internal power were uncanny. They shimmered subtly.

It was as if he proclaimed he could step in any direction and extend a powerful sword strike anywhere.

Before its fall, Kunlun was one of the Nine Sects. Everyone knew this. A technique derived from a secular branch of Kunlun could not be underestimated.

The critical moment would be when vital energy fully imbued his irregular steps. A lethal strike would come with his sword draw.

Tap!

A faint breeze swept across the sparring stage’s floor. The crowd held their breath, watching the impending clash.

Whoosh!

The moment a flash of energy gleamed in So Jun’s eyes, the accumulated force of his nameless Kunlun footwork erupted into tremendous propulsion.

White dust rose from the sparring stage, enveloping the surroundings. The figure in Jeong Yeon-shin’s vision grew rapidly larger.

He had already drawn his sword. The force of his refined lightness technique was fully harnessed.

He was indeed a mid-tier master. His blue-rank prowess carried the weight of experience.

‘Next chapter.’

Jeong Yeon-shin thought of the Breaking Guide.

As he observed the Lone Hero’s footwork, he took a slow step forward. It was just before his opponent angled diagonally ahead.

The trajectory of So Jun’s legs and the direction of his energy waves traced complex lines in his mind.

It was a realm of prediction that finely dissected the Eight Trigrams’ directions, yet the Hundred Meetings acupoint atop his head and the upper dantian beneath remained serene.

A single footprint etched itself onto the calm surface of his mental imagery.

Step.

He advanced as is. Vital energy surged into the Beam Hill and Knee Yang Gate points of his leg joints.

Beneath the sharply defined quadriceps in his trousers and the relaxed calf muscles beside his knees, power gathered.

It was lower-body force emission. He had woven the principles of the Wind Body movement technique into his steps.

Swish!

So Jun, his mouth twisting in shock, brushed past to the side. His critical strike had been rendered useless by a single step.

Only the fierce gust of his energy waves remained. The black sleeve of the Lightning Genius billowed high.

The boy didn’t let it end there. As if it were no great matter, the hand he’d extended behind him caught So Jun’s nape.

His hair was short. The rapid pulse at his neck transmitted through the boy’s grip. He seemed utterly stunned.

‘Brilliant River.’

He channeled vital energy into the Labor Palace and Lesser Mansion acupoints of his palm.

Without looking, he seized So Jun’s nape. A spiral of power stirred in his palm. So Jun flinched.

Ever since the Lightning Genius stepped through the main gate of the Martial Alliance’s headquarters, a storm of rumors about Jeong Yeon-shin had swept through.

The battle openly fought at Clear Night Valley was now known in detail to most of the Alliance.

Even the name and might of the formidable palm technique christened by Azure Qilin Namgung Se-jin.

“I yield!”

So Jun shouted, his back still turned. The boy promptly released his grip.

Applying Brilliant River energy to the face of the Martial Alliance’s dignity was enough. It was one step closer to fulfilling his mission.

The crowd reacted instantly. This time, it wasn’t silence.

As if finally recalling their original purpose of enjoying the Martial Alliance’s Opening Tournament, cheers erupted from all corners.

The clamor of hundreds spread like wildfire.

“A feast for the eyes in Hanzhong’s land!”

“Wasn’t that another single exchange? One step, one move!”

“A peerless hero in his own right… If it’s Desolate Fortress, even my father would be more than satisfied with such a match…”

Overwhelming martial might naturally stirred the crowd’s heroic spirit. The fervor was intense.

It was such that a few people vanishing from the spectator stands went unnoticed.

In an empty seat sat the treasured daughter of the Ye clan, poised and aloof. Yet no one had the presence of mind to care.

Even the courtesies exchanged between the Lone Hero of Ruzhou and the Lightning Genius were swallowed by the commotion.

“I saw the brilliance in your eyes, Leader. It felt as if I’d be drawn in. This So offers his thanks. I’m grateful you faced me earnestly.”

“Your footwork was marvelous. It broadened my perspective.”

The boy said. So Jun, mid-salute, blinked once, then burst into hearty laughter.

“It’s an honor.”

Did he take it as a compliment? Jeong Yeon-shin meant it sincerely. Another chapter was added to his inner Breaking

 Guide.

If he continued stacking them like this, he might devise the third form of his nameless sword technique before facing the Sword Star.

With three or more forms, they could be fully bound as a single flow, a complete sword technique.

That would be the birth of the Lightning Genius’s signature ultimate technique.

“Come up again.”

The boy said.

The cheers grew louder. The Opening Tournament, set to span four days, had entered an entirely new phase.

***

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Translated by Nine Heavens!

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***

The Next Day.

A meeting of the Martial Alliance’s leadership convened.

The headcount reached thirty. By the standards of the martial world’s upper echelons, it was an unusually large gathering.

It included the heads of various clans and their heirs, as well as the Ye clan’s patriarch and his niece.