Chapter 634: Kunlun Sect vs Blood Thunder Sound Temple (10)

Today, Qing was circulating her inner energy in the chilly main hall.

Of course, even when she circulated, Qing was mean about it. Eyes gently closed, her thought was: What’s for dinner tonight? Meat simmered until it’s sweet and falling apart—yeah, I’m in the mood for beef. I’ve got a feeling it’s beef tonight.

Whatever her insides, to others she wore a golden halo and a faint smile.

Wouldn’t that be the air of a refined expert.

It had been Ximen Surin who suggested that, on this cold day, Qing come out to the main hall where the townsfolk could see her and circulate.

She said Qing could be a model for female experts or whatever it was—no compulsion, a soft suggestion.

Anyway, with fur clothes layered on, a hat pulled down, only eyes and mouth showing, practicing outside wasn’t all that hard.

And then, a drawn-out “oh,” a sound of admiration.

When Qing opened her eyes, a stranger was giving her a sheepish smile.

“Did I interrupt your training?”

“No. I was just about to move a little and loosen up from sitting too long. And you, great hero—”

“Ooh! That’s perfect. Care for a bout?”

At that, Qing’s expression went: Huh?

She hadn’t actually said she meant to move; she’d only prettily phrased “don’t mind me, you’re not a bother.”

And before she even finished speaking—“a bout”?

With someone she didn’t even know, all of a sudden?

Qing looked over the unfamiliar middle-aged man.

From a stranger she’d never seen, a certain somehow-familiar feeling.

What is this—have we met somewhere?

Then she noticed the familiar things poking up behind his head.

Grips of black wood overlaid with thin leather.

The very practice wooden swords Sword-Friend always brought from somewhere; the middle-aged man had half a dozen or so of those grips in his bare hands.

And then, in Qing’s mind, home-town rich merchant’s emblem—exclamation marks popped up, maybe three of them.

“Uh, could you be—Sword-Friend’s—no, Sinjae’s—”

“Ha-ha, sharp eyes. Doesn’t that brat look just like me?”

“In martial-world jargon: I greet the Sword King.”

“A swordsman has a different greeting. Here.”

From Namgung Daero’s back, a wooden sword slipped out by itself and flew into its master’s grasp.

Then—whoosh—he tossed a wooden sword in a neat arc.

Qing caught it and thought, Mm. So Sword-Friend’s eccentricity—being a sparring maniac—wasn’t for nothing.

Maybe, growing up watching it, he’d just taken it as the natural way—that was her reasonable inference.

Anyway, it was a situation where the side that was far more of an expert was proposing a bout.

In the martial world, that usually carried two meanings.

First:

I’m going to beat you up legally now.

If you refuse or try to run, you’ll get beaten worse, so take your beating quietly.

And the second was a sign of great favor.

Because sparring with someone far below you doesn’t really give you anything.

If the point wasn’t to beat you up, it meant “I’ll teach you a move.”

“Then, I accept with thanks.”

“Good. Come. Come on.”

Namgung Daero backed away, taking the center of the guest hall courtyard.

Qing slowly studied her opponent.

In truth, she’d already seen the Namgung family’s swordwork to the point of boredom.

Qing had even stolen and learned the essence said to be taught only to the direct line of the House Head—the Sovereign Sword Form.

He’s probably thinking to counter with the Sovereign Sword Form.

Qing looked at the Sword King with grave eyes.

Qing already knew the Sovereign Sword Form well.

The subtlety that, by taking the optimal trajectory, nullifies the enemy’s attack and further harms him.

Post-initiative—reaching later yet touching first—pursued to the extreme; a heavy sword among heavy swords.

If so, when you “offer” a trajectory, the straight line you must most avoid is the horizontal cut.

It’s easy for a person to slip left or right, but there’s a limit to slipping up or down.

“Coming!”

Qing shouted and rushed in.

The Sword King grew rapidly closer.

Qing’s sword slashed left and right with swish-swish—like a child, not knowing any better, whipping a willow switch—ridiculously petty to look at.

“Good!”

The Sword King exclaimed, big.

It looked like nothing, but at the Sword King’s level, he could see the sword-force.

The black-ironwood practice sword is in fact heavier than a live blade.

Even so, the trajectory that circled in fine arcs, going and returning, proved it wasn’t being swung by strength alone.

It meant she fully understood a noble, rule-breaking class of superlative skill.

Indeed—among her peers—no, “peers” hardly applies.

If it’s the same realm, there will be no one to match her.

But to a master who’d devoted a lifetime to the sword, her gaps were just as clear.

The instant Qing’s feet left a single step before entering sword range—the domain—the Sword King’s wooden sword flashed up.

From high right down to low left, a crisp straight line—of the infinite sword-paths, the single correct answer was about to appear in reality.

In that instant, Qing’s eyes flashed!

Her forward-rushing foot—THUD!—with a tremendous ground-shock that made the earth ring, invisible concentric circles rippled in all directions.

A single stomp with everything she had.

She poured all her speed into that stomp; the sprint up to now had been nothing but a run-up for this one step.

And—THUD!—

A second ground-shock, bracing the body as it tilted right, chased after the first’s concentric circles, offset to a skewed center before the first could fully spread.

A desperate shift of one step with all her strength.

Qing’s sword tip stabbed for the sky.

The Sword King’s eyes opened wide.

At the moment his wooden sword would land, Qing’s body stretched long.

The Sword King’s wooden sword cut empty air, and—SMACK!!

“Urk!” “Hah!”

The first was the Sword King; the second was Qing.

Qing’s wooden sword had cracked Namgung Daero across the side of the head cleanly.

“Kh-ha-ha! You brat! Look at this brat’s state!”

A sudden, ringing, hearty laugh boomed.

Who knew when he’d arrived—Martial Buddha Muhak was sprawled at ease in the main hall, bursting into loud laughter and pointing.

Ximen Surin stood beside him, a very satisfied smile filling her face as she gave her disciple a nod.

But Qing fidgeted in panic.

She had just smashed her friend’s father’s head, to the point it might have shattered to pieces.

“Hah—are—are you all right?”

“Nnngh, that one landed properly.”

“I’m sorry.”

But even as he held his side-head, a wide smile bloomed on Namgung Daero’s face.

“No. I underestimated you for being young and left an opening; it means you did your best. If there’s apologizing to do, I should be the one to apologize.”

Honestly, Namgung Daero had looked down on Qing.

And Qing had taken the Sword King to be at her master’s level, so whether he evaded or countered, she thought he would handle it.

“Right. If someone in the Translucent Realm gets beaten by someone in the Flower Realm, of course he should be sorry. Isn’t that so?”

Muhak teased, but Namgung Daero didn’t care in the least.

“You must’ve watched that punk Sinjae’s patterns and lured my sword-path! Your sword-energy is truly excellent!”

He only wore the refreshing smile of a straightforward man.

“I’d heard ‘the next Foremost Under Heaven’ and I was curious. Now I know that judgment isn’t wrong. So as your senior who bears a sword—how could I not be delighted! It’s about time that bald Shaolin monk stopped hogging it! Yeah!”

After all, setting aside the Heavenly Martial Emperor and the four Heavenly Demons, the seat of Foremost Under Heaven had been all but monopolized by a Shaolin monk.

“You bastard. Nothing you won’t say in front of a senior. So, growing old together, is that it?”

“Did I say anything wrong? Don’t you agree as well, Ximen? A world where the Foremost Under Heaven of the sword is the Foremost Under Heaven—that’s the proper world, isn’t it?”

At that, Ximen Surin also nodded.

“Strange for you to be saying something right.”

“‘Something right,’ my ass—you mean ‘something to get smacked for.’ You swordsmen are having the time of your lives.”

Qing snuck a look at their faces.

She’d cracked her friend’s father’s head, but since the mood was letting it pass happily, she exhaled in rough relief.

“Your disciple’s sword-energy is truly excellent. But when you face a Translucent Realm expert, you mustn’t aim for the head.”

Aiming for the head hadn’t been a good call.

Against a Translucent Realm fighting a lower realm, the head is no longer a weak point.

The skull is about the third-hardest in the body and split into several plates with a rounded structure, so in practical terms it has the strongest protection.

What happens when you add Protective Steel Qi to that?

In truth, even if Qing had been holding a live blade and loaded it with qi, she might have left a deep scratch and a mark, but she wouldn’t have pierced it.

So the Sword King hadn’t bothered to force a block; if he’d put sincerity into it, Qing might have gotten hurt, so he’d elected to take the hit.

It came with a stern admonition that the disciple mustn’t get conceited.

Only—Ximen Surin’s face as she said it was so beaming that the persuasion factor was on the low side.

I mean, in a sword bout, for her disciple to have cracked the Sword King’s head—how utterly delightful a sight was that.

Anyway, the Sword King raised his wooden sword again and said:

“From here on, I’ll have to put in all my sincerity.”

Qing watched Namgung Daero’s expression closely.

Excuse me—why is a Translucent Realm expert putting in “all his sincerity”?

He’s not one to hold a grudge, is he?

Things like getting beaten to a pulp—

Well, Master is here, so, hmm.

Come to think of it, given Master’s teaching policy, even if I get beaten flat and roll around, she won’t particularly care.

Qing’s worry that this might turn into payback lasted only a moment.

“What you did just now was good, but here to here—so, like this—this motion looks like waste. Did it have a purpose?”

“I know your strength is tremendous, but excessive strength ruins technique. Rather than go for a straight force there, change—go for the three planes. That would’ve been far more threatening.”

“Mm? Do that form again. Oh, right—twist the wrist a little more—yes, that’s the line. Because your strength is so good, there are bad habits here and there.”

What is this? Why does it feel so comfortable?

Qing blinked.

The Sword King’s bout was the polar opposite of Master’s.

Ximen Surin’s bout can be summarized as: “Don’t know? If you don’t know, you get hit.”

You just made a mistake—don’t know what it was?

Then you get hit.

You just had a bad habit—don’t know what it was?

Then you get hit.

Don’t know why you just got hit?

Then you get hit until you know.

By comparison, the Sword King’s bout was very much like a kindly teacher—if something to point out came up, he stopped right away to explain, then had her repeat continuously in the direction of improvement.

No wonder Sword-Friend’s way of explaining swordwork had been so easy to understand and outstanding—he’d learned it all from his dad.

What’s more—

“Ho. The changes in your sword-force are free; there’s plenty of power. That sword art you used just now—you haven’t fully read its implications yet, have you? Best to put it away for now; against an expert it’ll only poison you.”

As he said “that sword art,” the Sword King winked.

It was a movement from One Hundred Eight Asura Swords that had slipped out on its own; the wink signaled he’d recognized it.

What is this? He’s being awfully good to me.

Sure, he’s my friend’s father.

And to Sinjae, I’m one of the few friends—best friends—so he could be good to me for that.

To Namgung Daero, though, the Heavenly Flower Sword wasn’t just his son’s friend.

If you had two arms, one’s for the sword and one’s to assist it.

But his crazy brat refused to use one arm at all; a kid with two fine arms was acting like he had only one.

So he was in a fury, with a burning ache in his gut.

Try to soothe it with liquor and hot liquor burned the gut worse, so he drank again—an unending cycle of worry.

“He jabbers about dual-sword this and that like an idiot, but thanks to you that stubborn bastard finally came to his senses. You saved one person—no, two. I was about to die of my guts bursting too.”

Muhak needled from the side:

“Dual-sword, huh. A toddler just learning to walk says he’s going to fly?”

“Ah, senior. It’s killing me. If you’re going to find your own sword, at minimum you need to reach at least the Flower Realm, at least the late phase, and then use the forms again, don’t you? He can’t even do the one properly, and he’s making a fuss about doing two.”

Perhaps there was still a lot pent up—he immediately started venting to Muhak.

“Ahem.”

Faced with actual venting, Muhak couldn’t tease any further.

Real wounds aren’t for teasing.

“So please take better care of my unworthy brat. He only wakes up when you give him strong jolts from the side. Mm—when you go somewhere, please notify my house first. I’ll send him there; I’d have no greater wish than for you to take him along.”

No wonder he was being so nice.

Nothing’s free in this world; the Sword King delivered a very earnest request.

Ximen Surin clicked her tongue.

“How can a woman of age go about with a man at her side?”

“Come on, senior, it’s not like that. If the Heavenly Flower Sword had the mind for it, I’d carry her on my back into the family as my daughter-in-law, but first let’s get the lunatic boy his senses back.”

“Hmph. The world has eyes. If people say a woman runs around with a man, it’s a fault in the present, a fault in the past, and a fault in the future too. How do you think to slide that past me on the strength of a few bouts?”

Ximen Surin clicked her tongue again, displeased, and said:

“Pass on at least a few miscellaneous arts. How can a man be so shameless.”

“I was going to, in fact. Senior, I’m not that shameless.”

In the end, that had been the point.

Not just a bout; teach her something worthwhile.

Muhak smiled gently.

In the past, Ximen Surin would’ve led with her fist.

Even so, now she could hold back for her disciple’s sake and tell him to teach her something before he left.

A surprising change in that fierce Yeo Gwanggyeon.

So this is precisely bond—how people, bound together, stick and live—the greatness of feeling.