Chapter: 408
The pretext is guidance martial arts.
Guidance martial arts.
This was practically a valid excuse to use anywhere.
It’s like a high-level master lecturing his juniors in a sparring match.
In a way, it was nothing more than an honor and a rare opportunity for the lower ranks.
If a swordsman at the level of the White Lotus Sword were to offer such instruction, many from all over the country would flock to him.
But is it really correct to view the current situation as such?
Baekryeongeom Mo Yong-bi-yeon gazes at the three individuals before her with a glint of interest in her eyes.
The moment Mo Yong-bi-yeon radiated her aura, she found herself curious about how they’d react.
Would they be scared? Or would they fumble in confusion?
Mo Yong-bi-yeon figured they’d at least fall into one of those categories.
“Wow.”
To her surprise, her predictions missed the mark entirely. The children displayed neither fear nor panic.
Instead…
_Swish._
As soon as they sensed the aura, they merely adjusted their postures and steadied themselves.
Especially the two who appeared to be swordsmen—now, that was remarkable.
“Not a single tremor?”
Certainly, the child from the Tang clan exuded some exceptional talent for his age.
However, he couldn’t compare to those two.
It was almost an embarrassing level to label it as a late-stage index.
Having already surpassed their origins, they could no longer be deemed as late-stage practitioners.
“They say this generation is remarkably gifted. That seems to be the truth.”
Experiencing firsthand what was only rumored felt astonishing.
The young man called Gu Yangcheon was so outstanding that it felt inaccurate to consider him the average of their generation.
So, setting that aside, shouldn’t the main focus be on these children?
Interest began to flare in Mo Yong-bi-yeon’s eyes.
To her, this expedition led by the Poison King was peculiar enough to ignite her curiosity.
There appeared to be an unusually high number of late-stage practitioners with different backgrounds.
Yet, even amidst that, each individual’s skill level was exceptional.
That included the three she previously mentioned, along with the dazzling boys—especially Gu Yangcheon.
The young monk known as Jamryong had already reached the pinnacle of maturity.
The big, burly youth from the family remained elite, though his skill was no less impressive.
Strangely enough, the lowest-ranking late-stage practitioner was his own nephew.
“Remarkably talented.”
Mo Yong-bi-yeon felt a flicker of uncertainty observing that scene.
Only one seemed to have issues: the boy referred to as the Iron Man.
Let’s leave that kid aside, as he barely even qualified as a martial artist.
Each one of them could easily pass as a late-stage practitioner in their own generation…
“Ah… but that wouldn’t be right.”
The first-place spot would have been overly crowded.
Back then, ‘that person’ existed at the tail end of the late-stage index.
However, plenty of geniuses could be found here.
“Is it coincidence?”
Did these individuals just happen to gather together?
If not, could there be something around which they were ‘gathering’?
If they were truly drawn together by something…
“What could be the center?”
“That kid, perhaps.”
The face of a young man flickered in Mo Yong-bi-yeon’s mind.
If that were the case, things began to come together.
Just like they did, when encountering something extraordinarily bright, people tended to gravitate toward it.
With the apparent brightest figure of this generation present right here, it couldn’t simply be a coincidence.
Having personally experienced such in the past, Mo Yong-bi-yeon accepted it as natural.
Yet…
Mo Yong-bi-yeon had to look straight ahead and chuckle in disbelief.
“Still, this is a bit excessive, don’t you think?”
As Mo Yong-bi-yeon exhaled in astonishment,
_Swoosh-!_
The edge of a sword just grazed Mo Yong-bi-yeon’s cheek. She instinctively pulled back, feeling the subtle chill of the breeze.
No, she meant to create some distance, but something unexpectedly closed in beside her.
Two daggers flew in swiftly.
Glimmering, Mo Yong-bi-yeon shifted her position, measuring the angle.
_Whoosh-!_
With her movement, the pressure of the wind changed the dagger’s trajectory.
_Thud-tak!_
The flying dagger zoomed past Mo Yong-bi-yeon, embedding itself into a tree.
To her astonishment, she witnessed the tree decay around the dagger after it struck.
That dagger was laced with poison!
“Look at these kids.”
Mo Yong-bi-yeon’s gaze landed on the culprit who had hurled the dagger.
For someone from the Tang clan, using poison wasn’t out of the ordinary, but to actually execute it—now that was impressive.
Initially, when they planned to have this martial arts exchange, Mo Yong-bi-yeon sought a level that mimicked real combat.
Naturally, she intended to take it easy while observing the children’s conditions.
“This is surprisingly…”
Aren’t these kids exceptionally skilled?
_Thud-thud-!_
“…!”
It seemed he wouldn’t allow her to think for long. Just as she dodged the dagger, a barrage of energy charged in.
Mo Yong-bi-yeon was compelled to admire the display.
“Impressive.”
With what must have been dozens of threads, each bolt of energy seemed to contain will, each moving in a unique manner.
This indicated that the caster was tuning each strand of energy individually.
If it had stopped at just that, it could be brushed off as mere genius.
The master of this energy controlled it all while simultaneously executing swordsmanship.
To manage that many energies and still move your body?
The face of Namgung Gaju crossed Mo Yong-bi-yeon’s thoughts. It turned out the ruler of that energy was indeed a descendant of the Namgung clan.
“Looks like that brat has given birth to a monster beyond his league.”
She felt a chill run down her spine.
Her feet felt heavy and her energy was sluggish.
A weight steadily pressed down on her shoulders—she could definitely feel the martial arts of their family.
Imperial Sword Form.
That dreadful, bothersome martial arts.
As the thunderous energy poured down, Mo Yong-bi-yeon kept her head on a swivel.
Nothing but this energy cascaded from the front.
If so, where could the rest be?
Mo Yong-bi-yeon concentrated her awareness.
_Tingle-!_
Sure enough.
She sensed figures rapidly closing in on her stronghold.
Both left and right.
The moment she caught on, white and golden flashes surged from either side.
There was zero hesitation in the path of approaching swords.
Looking at the trajectory, it was clear they were aiming for Mo Yong-bi-yeon’s neck.
“Whoa.”
Mo Yong-bi-yeon felt the situation unfold and realized she had misjudged.
It seemed she had only viewed them as late-stage practitioners.
Caught in that thought, Mo Yong-bi-yeon immediately adjusted her grip on her sword and swung, gathering a handful of energy.
In an instant.
_Whoooooosh-!_
The light blue aura, representing the symbol of the Mo Yong clan, burst forth in every direction.
“…!”
“Ugh…!”
As Mo Yong-bi-yeon’s energy erupted just before the sword made contact, Namgung Bi-ah and Wi Seol-ah flinched, pushed back.
The energy following them vanished, swept away by Mo Yong-bi-yeon’s sword.
The two, barely regaining their footing, landed where Dang So-yeol had been observing, both looking at Mo Yong-bi-yeon in astonishment.
Clearly, what swirled around them was unmistakable energy.
It was a weighty aura entirely different from the essence displayed by a peak martial artist.
Inside, a muffled voice flew toward the trio.
“I’m sorry. I might have misjudged the situation.”
Mo Yong-bi-yeon smiled slightly, her unique energy enveloping her sword.
“I thought moderation would suffice. I shouldn’t have approached it with that mindset.”
Considering the circumstances, she had intended to treat them somewhat as juniors.
Those children had already become martial artists, even before being labeled as juniors.
It just meant she wasn’t in a position to treat this lightly.
Mo Yong-bi-yeon gazed at the three with a peculiar look.
“Was that how they felt?”
On the day she stood before the previous swordsman, alongside the current practitioner, Soyi.
Hadn’t that swordsman regarded them in that same light?
If there was anything that differed from that day?
The swordsman then had earnestly treated them as equals right from the start.
Now, Mo Yong-bi-yeon was not acting in the same manner.
“Oh boy.”
Reflecting on that, Mo Yong-bi-yeon felt a pang of self-reproach.
At the same time, a sense of relief washed over her.
This meant Soyi occupied the current position.
She would not have repeated the same blunder Mo Yong-bi-yeon made.
Although Mo Yong-bi-yeon had initially shown no interest in the role of the swordsman, she felt fortunate nonetheless.
No matter how she examined it, she just didn’t embody the aura of an esteemed swordsman.
“Phew.”
Regulating her breathing, Mo Yong-bi-yeon gradually aligned her energy.
Now that she recognized her previous errors, she simply needed to adjust it for the future.
She fixed her gaze upon the three, capturing their tense expressions.
She lifted her sword.
“I’ll be going again.”
Had they caught the meaning behind her words?
The energy emanating from the three shifted.
They must’ve noticed that Mo Yong-bi-yeon was now different from before.
That realization tickled her inwardly, causing her to stifle a chuckle.
What a thrill to witness.
“Ah, this won’t do.”
She had merely intended to tease her nephew and observe how the pretty girls chasing around Gu Yangcheon were doing.
What’s she supposed to do about her own exhilaration in this scenario?
Suddenly, a memory of her younger brother pleading for her to act her age surfaced.
“Sorry.”
Mo Yong-bi-yeon quietly apologized to her younger brother.
After all, no matter how she looked at it, she felt far from mature.
As the energy, which had been escalating, began to stabilize and a lighter stillness enveloped the space,
Mo Yong-bi-yeon ever so slightly wiggled her toes.
And in an instant, her figure vanished in the blink of an eye.
At this, Namgung Bi-ah widened her eyes, spreading out her aura.
Wi Seol-ah squinted and lifted her sword, scanning the surroundings.
_Thunk-!_
Mo Yong-bi-yeon reappeared between the two in a narrow opening.
The moment she did.
Once again, a fierce whirlwind began to brew within the forest.
A storm far more powerful than the first one.
__
A dense aura gradually filled the air.
It was brimming with energy that sent shivers down those unfamiliar with martial arts.
_Boom-! Boom boom-!_
The great noise echoed repeatedly, as if a colossal beast had erupted from the forest.
Countless people were drawn in by that sound.
Since all who had ventured out into the Sichuan expedition were, in essence, martial artists,
There was no way they could overlook the intense and thick presence of energy swirling about them.
Gradually, people began to gather, creating one massive crowd.
The more they came, the clearer it became: at least this sound wasn’t the kind created by a monstrous appearance.
The group of martial practitioners observing the source of the sound murmured among themselves.
“Wow… That’s impressive! How can they pull that off?”
A reflection of awe filled their voices.
“The three of them work together so seamlessly. Each of them seems to wield a different technique.”
The two swordsmen engaged in close-range combat,
and whenever an opening would present itself, a venomous dagger would soar in.
The blades were wielding nonstop, never interrupting each other’s paths.
This was something only long-synchronized swordsman could accomplish.
The sight being demonstrated by these still-growing late-stage practitioners could not help but astound everyone.
While hearing such admiration, a younger practitioner turned towards the older man with an astonished look.
“Is that really that impressive?”
“Oh please. Are you that dense? Can’t you see it?”
The term ‘dense’ caused the junior’s expression to twist somewhat, but it was a justified remark.
Each martial art had its unique traits.
And there was an associated energy required to wield it.
Since the energy needed to conduct martial arts had a heavily combative nature,
They would tend to ensnare each other.
Thus, while it stood to reason that if they manifested in a context where they were adversaries, this could be comprehended.
But coordinating martial artists for a joint attack invariably led to various complications.
For instance, it could cause conflicting energies to hinder the execution of martial arts.
As their movements grew more vigorous, their paths would inevitably intersect, resulting in an array of issues.
“Those kids move as if they are of one body.”
Even if the martial arts they wielded matched well, moving without impeding each other was an entirely distinct matter.
After hearing this, the junior nodded knowingly, shedding light on his understanding of the situation.
Nonetheless, there remained points of confusion.
“It’s definitely impressive, but none of their attacks are getting through.”
He understood that their collaborative efforts flowed as naturally as water.
He also recognized that they had reached an extraordinary level for their age.
However, even accounting for that, the opposition was overwhelmingly dominant.
The women’s strikes didn’t seem to reach at all, instead frequently being forced back.
Responding to the junior’s comment, the man continued.
“Well, that’s unavoidable… They’re up against the White Lotus Sword.”
The opponent certainly had the advantage. That’s perhaps the most spot-on conclusion.
His gaze shifted toward a particular woman.
The one who moved effortlessly, despite being on the receiving end of those three’s combined assaults.
The White Lotus Sword.
A one-time contender for the title of Sword Mistress.
I think this explanation suffices.
Among the numerous martial artists present, only a small handful would manage to touch her.
Despite not having made a proper appearance for over a decade, the tales tied to her were still vivid to those who experienced her during her active days.
“I’m a tad envious.”
“Pardon?”
The mere act of mingling with the White Lotus Sword is akin to a significant opportunity.
The man couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy towards those late-stage practitioners.
The dilemma lies in,
“It’s a bit intense for a guidance match.”
Although it felt more like an amusement, the abundant speculation somehow lacked a sense of malice.
That said, the intensity still felt quite extreme.
One could wonder if they should intervene at this rate.
As the man observed the match with a hint of anxiety, the junior remarked with fascination.
“Even the poison technique is performing well amidst all this.”
“Hmm?”
“Rumor has it that compared to her alias, her skills are lacking, but I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Uh…”
The man’s gaze shifted towards the woman launching daggers from behind.
Certainly, it was true.
Among the daughters of the Tang clan, she was rumored to fall short compared to the other legendary figures.
Yet, she was displaying a solid performance in the midst of the torrent of energy.
Even amidst this chaos, the stability of her strikes demonstrated her skill.
Moreover, her intent to interrupt the White Lotus Sword’s movements was evident along with her adjustment to the surrounding circumstances.
“Surely… compared to the rumors, she seems much more impressive.”
“Grateful for that assessment.”
“It’s praise for Dokbong, so no need for you to express gratitude…. Huh!”
As the man continued speaking, he suddenly sensed something amiss and turned.
It didn’t sound like the voice of the junior.
As expected, it was not the youth’s voice.
Looking pale, the junior appeared terrified at the unexpected intruder.
The man found himself swallowing hard, staring at the intruder.
“U-um… the clan master…”
The interloper was none other than the head of the Tang clan.
He was the Poison King.
Realization swept over the man like a wave.
What had he just said? His heart raced, refusing to calm down.
Unbeknownst to him, having brought up Dokbong in front of the Poison King carried the risk of invoking displeasure.
“I-I’m so sorry!”
The man desperately bowed his head in apology.
The Poison King gestured, signifying it was alright.
Luckily, the Poison King didn’t show anger towards the man.
Instead, he simply offered a faint smile, thanking him.
“Thank you for recognizing my daughter’s efforts.”
At the Poison King’s words, the man repeatedly nodded, hastily taking his junior away from sight.
The Poison King, having observed, sighed while looking at his daughter.
‘…What on earth is happening?’
In the midst of an energy so thick it could even send a tremor through a martial artist.
His daughter was right in the midst of it all.
Upon receiving the report, the Poison King had rushed over.
He had witnessed the situation unfold and intended to cease the battle immediately.
‘…This.’
Grappling with the sight of his daughter, he hesitated.
This was the first time he had seen her so determined and focused.
Judging by her aura, things appeared rather precarious, yet sparring with the White Lotus Sword could provide a rare opportunity for Dang So-yeol.
The Poison King didn’t find his daughter’s martial artist visage amiss.
That’s why he decided to keep observing for a while longer.
‘This isn’t sustainable.’
Any way you look at it, this bout had several questions.
Putting aside whether it was his daughter engaging in the duel, her condition raised concerns.
The heat radiating from the White Lotus Sword was exceptional.
Seeing that, the Poison King rubbed his throbbing temple.
‘…White Lotus Sword.’
She had always been known for her unpredictability.
Wondering why she was battling those kids, he questioned whether this was worth that much passion.
If the stronger party remained in that state, it could lead to problematic scenarios.
‘If necessary…’
Should the situation escalate beyond control, he would consider stepping in.
He thought that among those present, perhaps only he and the family head could pause the sparring, given the intensity of the encounter.
To put an end to such fierce duel, it would require at least a skillful martial artist.
At present, out of the assembled practitioners, only he could perform such a task unless the family head joined.
Others observing the scene would likely be aware of this.
Given such circumstances, the Poison King carefully watched the martial arts exhibition ahead.
As the sparring continued, the energy grew denser.
Ideally, it should have concluded quickly, yet the sustained back-and-forth stemmed from the fact that—
It was clearly a guidance match, meaning the White Lotus Sword wasn’t attempting to kill.
In other words, should she genuinely desire to eliminate her opponents, she would have concluded matters long ago.
While observing the unfolding drama with unease,
The Poison King’s gaze widened as he witnessed a surge of energy collecting at the tip of the White Lotus Sword.
“That’s…!”
That was a perilous sign.
It appeared the White Lotus Sword was on the verge of losing restraint, perhaps even intoxicated by the atmosphere.
The moment he registered this shock, the Poison King elevated his energy.
Intent on intervening to halt the battle, ready to leap forward. If she released that power, it would spell significant danger.
Just then, as the Poison King prepared to jump, gritting his teeth,
Someone moved faster than the Poison King.
_Spark-!_
A spark ignited from somewhere.
“Uh?”
“What’s happening…?”
The Poison King, who had been bracing to elevate the situation, and everyone else watching uttered surprised exclamations.
A young man, unfamiliar to them, burst onto the fierce battlefield amidst a flurry of lights.
“…!”
The combatants gasped, attempting to redirect their blades, but it was far too late to adjust their aim.
With blades shooting from various angles, they were about to score direct hits on the body of the suddenly appearing young man.
_Tsk-!_
A swift clicking sound pierced the air.
_Whoooosh!_
“What the…!”
“Ugh!”
“Ugh!”
“Ah!”
“Eek…!”
Suddenly, the mid-battle women were sent flying, rolling across the ground.
The onlookers were left dumbfounded, struggling to comprehend the situation.
What in the world just transpired?
In an instant, the previous chaos melted away, replaced by calm.
In this quietude, the young man stood tall at the center, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.
“Ha.”
With a deep sigh, he looked toward the women struggling to regain their feet.
“…I’m so tired. What kind of nonsense is this so early in the morning?”
His voice carried considerable irritation.
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