Chapter 440: A Future Borne on the Sword (2)

There was no formal greeting. Not even a word to signal the start.

CLAAAAANG!

The entire sequence—from drawing the [N O V E L I G H T] sword, to launching the strike, to delivering the slash—flowed as naturally as water.

It was a magnificent strike. Mad Dragon, which had caught it, trembled faintly in Yeon Hojeong’s hands. The slash was fast and bold, yet carried a weight that could not be ignored. It was fierce enough that an ordinary master would have had little hope of defending against it.

But Yeon Hojeong was no ordinary master.

His skill had already surpassed that of the leaders of the great sects. He was a Transcendent Peak master standing on the very threshold of the Limitless Realm, the domain said to belong to a Martial God.

CLAAANG!

Jeongan’s eyes shook.

Heavy!

If she had not bled off half the force, her wrist, elbow, and shoulder would have dislocated one after another.

She knew it instinctively.

He’s not playing around!

She had expected him to block her first strike without difficulty. After all, that sword had been drawn without ceremony. In a sense, it had merely been a greeting.

Apparently, her opponent considered even that much ceremony unnecessary. The instant he knocked her sword aside, his axe came whipping around in a brutal counterstrike, and the power behind it was beyond anything she had imagined.

Even Hwaun, watching from a distance, stiffened at the sheer ferocity of Yeon Hojeong’s attack.

WHOOSH!

Jeongan, who had smoothly withdrawn, charged at Yeon Hojeong once again.

She had felt his intent in that attack.

Don’t come at me halfheartedly.

Show me everything you have.

And beneath it all, she sensed his absolute confidence that even then, she would not surpass him.

Jeongan’s sword flashed like lightning.

BOOOOM!

The sword strike that had been shooting forward in a straight line suddenly erupted into dazzling motion with a tremendous blast.

Dozens—hundreds—of sword shadows appeared in the air. Their reach was enormous. A prison of swords enclosed the entire courtyard, every edge lethally sharp as it converged on Yeon Hojeong.

Only two exchanges into the spar, Jeongan had already brought out one of her true signature arts.

It was the Myriad Flowers Still Sword Art, praised as one of Putuo Hermitage’s Three Supreme Arts.

WHOOSH!

Yeon Hojeong, who had stood as solidly as an ancient tree, suddenly moved with terrifying speed.

His target was Jeongan.

Her sword domain had already sealed off every direction around him. This was no time to retreat. The correct choice was to break straight through.

Jeongan’s eyes gleamed.

SHRRRRAK!

Hundreds of sword shadows concentrated toward the front, aiming for Yeon Hojeong’s axe, head, and shoulders.

Yeon Hojeong swung Mad Dragon with tremendous force.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

Metal struck metal in an unbroken torrent, the sound like an enormous Buddhist temple bell shattering into pieces.

Jeongan’s eyes quivered.

He blocked it.

The Myriad Flowers Still Sword Art consisted of only three forms.

Yet those three forms contained everything there was to the sword. Once unleashed, they had always brought victory, and one who mastered the art completely could become a grandmaster second to none when it came to the sword.

The form she had just used was the first of the Myriad Flowers Still Sword Art.

One Sword, Myriad Flowers Realm.

Impossible. He knocked aside every sword shadow of the Myriad Flowers Realm with that massive axe?!

She had already seen for herself that he could wield the axe as lightly as a switch.

But an axe was still an axe.

Judging by the weight she had felt at the moment of impact, Mad Dragon had to weigh roughly ninety to a hundred pounds.

And he was swinging a weapon like that at nearly the same speed as her sword.

It made no sense.

There were laws to the world. There was common sense.

What was heavy could not be fast, and what was fast could not be heavy. If both could coexist so easily, there would have been no reason to distinguish heavy-sword styles from swift-sword styles in the first place.

In other words, her opponent was a grandmaster who had shattered ordinary logic and common sense to forge a martial path entirely his own.

I can’t think of this as a spar anymore. I have to fight with the determination to crush him completely!

WHOOOOOM!

Mad Dragon tore through the air with a vicious roar.

Had Jeongan not leapt upward at once, either her sword or her torso would unquestionably have been split apart.

That single move told her all she needed to know.

He was not going easy on her.

FLASH!

Jeongan’s eyes blazed.

The moment she rose into the air, she unleashed the second form of the Myriad Flowers Still Sword Art.

Sacred Sword Mandala.

WHOOSH!

Yeon Hojeong’s gaze deepened.

Sword pressure spread from a single point in the air, instantly sketching a geometric pattern as it poured down toward him.

Impressive.

Yeon Hojeong could not suppress his admiration.

There’s a martial art like this?

This was no sword art that existed merely to look beautiful.

It was both an illusory sword and a dispersing sword, both a transforming sword and a discerning sword.

It encompassed every direction in which a sword could move.

It could become offense. It could become defense.

According to the wielder’s intent, the purpose of its form could change in an instant.

It was swordsmanship of the highest order.

A sword art worthy of being discussed among the finest under heaven.

It was fundamentally different from the Yeon Clan’s orthodox swordsmanship—a martial art born from insight, one that liberated the sword’s inherent possibilities through its sword paths while wielding overwhelming power.

WHOOOOOSH!

A white whirlwind suddenly wrapped itself around Yeon Hojeong.

He had drawn upon the White Tiger Art of the Four Spirit Martial Art.

The two martial arts collided head-on.

BOOOOOOM!

With a deafening explosion, the weeds and stones covering the ground were pulverized and scattered into dust.

Jeongan’s eyes flew wide.

Shattered?!

The mandala of swords raining down like a cloudburst was being smashed apart by the fangs of a beast wrapped in a white whirlwind.

Impossible! He met the Sacred Sword Mandala head-on...?!

She had never expected the Sacred Sword Mandala to kill or seriously wound Yeon Hojeong.

But she had been certain that he would choose either evasion or defense to neutralize the form.

Only afterward would he have a chance to attack.

Yeon Hojeong was different.

He neither evaded nor defended.

He attacked immediately and smashed apart the very center of the mandala.

And this despite Jeongan striking downward from the air while he attacked upward from the ground.

Jeongan’s sword moved again.

SHRRRRAK!

The shattered sword-form mandala reassembled, drawing an entirely new pattern.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.

Different?

No.

It was the same form.

He could tell from the nature of the sword energy and the flow of her True Qi.

But its shape was different.

Just as no two mandala designs were necessarily identical, the form Jeongan created the second time was clearly different from the first.

The first mandala suppressed with qi. This one is a direct physical attack.

A single form could be transformed into dozens of variations.

And it was not merely adapting the form to different situations.

The very nature of the power contained within the form changed according to the wielder’s intent.

I see.

It was in no way inferior to the Yeon Clan’s sword arts.

No—considering the sheer diversity of its sword paths and the sword power inherent in the martial art itself, it could even be considered superior.

The Yeon Clan’s sword arts make extraordinary demands of the swordsman’s own cultivation. Putuo’s sword is different. The art itself is so exceptional that anyone who learns it is bound to become strong.

The corner of Yeon Hojeong’s mouth rose.

The martial art itself is powerful, and behind Putuo Hermitage stands a Sword Empress who has refined it to the absolute limit. No one could afford to take them lightly.

In that brief instant, Yeon Hojeong had grasped the essential nature of Putuo’s swordsmanship.

WHOOSH!

A blue-green haze tinged the white whirlwind and settled over Yeon Hojeong’s legs.

SHRRRRAK!

Dozens of sword shadows swept past the edges of Yeon Hojeong’s clothes.

Ordinarily, he should have been trapped inside that prison of swords and rendered completely incapable of fighting.

Instead, Yeon Hojeong slipped out of the sword formation as naturally as if it had never been there.

The instant Jeongan registered what had happened, shock flooded her face.

WHOOOOOM!

Yeon Hojeong’s movement was completely different from before.

Gone was the beast that seemed capable of tearing any attack or defense to shreds.

In its place was a divine dragon surging upstream against a roaring waterfall.

It was the Azure Dragon Art.

The Azure Dragon Cloud-Treading Steps had unraveled the Sacred Sword Mandala’s assault with almost contemptuous ease.

And that was not all.

The White Tiger specialized in offense, the Vermilion Bird in annihilation, and the Black Tortoise in defense.

The Azure Dragon was different from the other three divine arts, each of which specialized in a single field.

It governed two.

Evasion and counterattack.

The profound movements of the Azure Dragon Cloud-Treading Steps had allowed Yeon Hojeong to evade the Sacred Sword Mandala completely.

But the technique did not end with evasion.

Counterattack.

Mad Dragon unleashed the Azure Dragon Art’s Three Forms of the Dragon Host.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

“Ugh!”

The razor-sharp chain of attacks erupting at point-blank range tore an involuntary groan from Jeongan.

I can’t match this!

She could not even tell when he had closed the distance so completely.

WHOOSH!

Jeongan hurriedly dropped back to the ground.

The air was the ideal position from which to unleash the Sacred Sword Mandala.

But against an opponent who had not merely escaped the mandala, but counterattacked through it, remaining airborne was nothing but a disadvantage.

Then...

It had come to this after all.

No matter how the spar developed, she had intended to stop after displaying only the first two forms of the Myriad Flowers Still Sword Art.

She had never planned to use the final third form.

But now that the match had progressed this far, there was no avoiding it.

At her current level, neither One Sword, Myriad Flowers Realm nor Sacred Sword Mandala could put any pressure on him.

WHOOSH!

Jeongan’s stance dropped visibly lower.

She drew her sword back behind her while extending her left hand forward, index and middle fingers pressed together.

She was preparing to unleash the final, third form of the Myriad Flowers Still Sword Art.

This third form—even you could never...!

Then—

FLASH!

Jeongan’s eyes shook violently.

Before she could even execute the third form, her opponent was already standing directly in front of her.

What?!

The speed was absurd.

How could a human being move that quickly?

He had reached her before she could even perceive the act of movement itself.

And despite moving at such speed, he had caused no discernible change in the surrounding airflow.

It was movement beyond the limits of speed.

Flame-like crimson qi waves roiled around his body.

Of everything she had witnessed in this spar, this shocked Jeongan the most.

Yeon Hojeong’s fist shot out like lightning.

Jeongan squeezed her eyes shut without thinking.

She could neither attack, defend, nor evade.

There was nothing she could do.

WHOOOOOM! BOOOOM!

A tremendous explosion erupted.

A deep furrow appeared in the ground behind Jeongan.

WHIRR! THUD!

The bamboo hat she had been wearing tore apart and spun helplessly away before dropping to the ground.

Her tightly bound hair came loose as well, spilling out and billowing around her.

Jeongan slowly opened her eyes.

A hard fist had stopped barely half an inch from the tip of her nose.

“Hmm.”

Yeon Hojeong withdrew his fist and rested Mad Dragon across his shoulder.

“That was an extraordinary martial art. Your own cultivation simply hasn’t caught up to it yet. Now I understand why Putuo’s sword arts are spoken of in legend and myth.”

It was a way of easing the sting of defeat.

Jeongan had lost, but the martial art she had cultivated was an extraordinary supreme art.

All she needed to do was keep training.

Jeongan quietly studied Yeon Hojeong, then sheathed her sword and bowed her head.

“I learned a great deal. Your martial art was truly remarkable.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled despite himself.

Jeongan was not one for empty compliments.

Nor was she particularly versed in worldly etiquette.

He could tell simply from her posture and the sound of her voice.

Yet that very straightforwardness appealed to Yeon Hojeong.

She was still untainted by the world, yet her own convictions were unmistakably clear.

He liked that about her.

“If I let my guard down, you’ll catch up in no time. I’ll have to stay sharp myself.”

Besides, the young woman standing before him was not the Sword Empress Yeon Hojeong had seen in the past.

Though they were around the same age.

Yeon Hojeong turned toward Hwaun.

Her face had gone completely rigid at the unexpected outcome.

“You’ve waited long enough. That concludes the appetizer. Let’s go inside.”