What kind of strikes would be unleashed by those who sought the absolute zenith, the superhumans among superhumans? The warriors on both sides, though charging toward one another, found themselves unable to tear their eyes away from the two figures at the center of the storm.
“Huu—“
Yeom Gwak-chu, the Sword Pinnacle Crushes the Mountain. The breath he exhaled was as heavy and immovable as Mount Tai itself.
“Haa—!”
The Sword Monarch of the Huashan Sect. His breath was as fierce and relentless as a howling gale.
The fruits of those two breaths manifested instantly in their first exchange.
BOOM!
The sound of a detonating explosive shattered the air, followed by the deep, guttural groan of the earth. The ground trembled violently as a massive plume of dust erupted skyward in a suffocating cloud.
“What in the… this is insane!”
“Get back! Stay away from them!”
Contrary to the observers’ expectations of intricate technique, the opening clash was brutally primitive, a pure, unadulterated collision of raw force against raw force.
Rumble!
The momentum radiating from the center was so malevolent that the charging warriors on both sides were forced to skid to a halt, fearing they would be pulverized if caught in the shockwave.
“Maintain your distance!”
“Watch out!”
Armored carriages screeched as their drivers slammed on the brakes and swerved, nearly flipping over in the process. Several vehicles tilted precariously, saved from toppling only by the frantic intervention of nearby warriors.
In that singular moment, in the dead center of the battlefield, a stage had been cleared for the rematch between the Sword Pinnacle Crushes the Mountain and the Sword Monarch.
“Haaaa…!”
The Sword Monarch strained every fiber of his being, his muscles screaming as he attempted to repel Yeom Gwak-chu’s blade.
It’s as if his sword weighs as much as an entire mountain range!
Through his white-knuckled grip on his hilt, he felt a vibration and pressure that bordered on the divine.
Grind!
This was the hallmark of the Sword Pinnacle Crushes the Mountain: the Supreme Oppressive Sword. Under that impossible weight, the Sword Monarch’s legs were driven deep into the solid earth, his boots sinking as if into mire.
“Kh…!”
Truly, it was a weapon that earned its name. Yeom Gwak-chu’s colossal blade pressed down upon him like the Five Elements Mountain that once imprisoned the Great Sage, Heaven’s Equal.
However…
Yes… this is it!
“Uooooo…!”
The Sword Monarch’s usually refined and composed features cracked, revealing a raw, jagged mask of pure fighting spirit and fury. In that instant, the dignified Elder of Mount Hua vanished, replaced entirely by the face of a true warrior.
It wouldn’t be the Sword Pinnacle Crushes the Mountain if it were any less than this!
Only a man of this caliber was worthy of having defeated him. As his long, white beard bristled in the wind, a thunderous kiai erupted from the Sword Monarch’s lungs.
“UOOOOOOOO!”
“Hmph…!”
Yeom Gwak-chu, who had filled his lungs to the brim and was leaning into his colossal sword, felt a surge of genuine surprise deep within his chest.
To think he could still achieve such growth at his age…!
Honestly, it was staggering.
Screeeech!
Accompanied by that roar, the Sword Monarch’s blade began to push back against the Supreme Oppressive Sword. It wasn’t just raw physical strength or internal energy; it was the weight of years spent in bitter reflection, the fruit of a man who had “slept on brushwood and tasted gall,” never wasting a single heartbeat since his past defeat.
I didn’t underestimate him just because I’d beaten him once, but still…
Even Yeom Gwak-chu hadn’t imagined his rival’s level would have ascended to such heights.
But then…
“Ugh…!”
Yeom Gwak-chu hadn’t exactly been idle himself. Far from it.
“Khhh…!”
He had done the unthinkable for a martial artist: he had laid bare his own secret arts before the scholars of the Martial Academy.
He had even worked alongside them to research his own weaknesses and refine his techniques, an act that any traditional warrior would have deemed utterly insane.
Krrrnch!
The two blades, infused with the full power of their masters, shrieked as they showered the ground with orange sparks.
Is it now?!
A warrior from the Wudang Sect’s northern expeditionary force felt his eyes sharpen. With everyone’s attention transfixed by the two masters, and with both locked in a profound struggle of strength that maintained only a momentary, precarious equilibrium, now was the time.
[Now! Move!]
It was a golden opportunity to exploit a gap. He and his junior brothers instantly suppressed their presences, leaping forward to melt into the swirling dust cloud as they aimed to secure a preemptive advantage against the War Advisory Group.
However…
“Stop…!”
“Gah…?!”
A hand suddenly clamped onto the back of his neck, yanking him backward with brutal force.
“G-Martial Uncle?!”
He looked up at the man who had seized him, a first-generation disciple and his senior uncle within the Wudang Sect. He started to protest, his face flushed with frustration. “What is the meaning—”
“I said stay back!”
The last of the disciples who had been sneaking into the dust cloud at his signal turned back to see what the commotion was. In that exact moment…
K-K-KRAAAACK!
The dense shroud of dust surrounding the two masters shattered, along with the equilibrium they had held.
With a deafening, ear-splitting screech, the cloud was torn asunder in every direction, transforming instantly into a lethal vortex of steel-shredding energy.
“…”
Before he could even process the sight, those who had followed his signal, including the junior brother who had just looked back, simply vanished.
They didn’t even have time to scream. They were erased, leaving neither corpses nor traces behind.
“Ah… ah…”
He remained frozen, his neck still held firmly by his Martial Uncle, his mind failing to grasp the reality. His brothers were gone. Just like that.
Rumble!
The two masters continued to unleash a barrage of strikes that tore the air apart like a localized lightning storm. It looked as if two enraged gods had descended to the earth, clashing with such intensity that they didn’t even notice the mortals they were obliterating.
Ping!
A piece of gravel kicked up by the storm grazed his face, slicing through the internal energy protecting his skin.
“But… they were just…” He touched the warm blood trickling down his cheek, his voice a disbelieving whisper. “They were just locked in a struggle of strength a second ago…”
“You fool!” his Martial Uncle roared, his voice thick with the effort of holding him back. “Both of those masters are famous for swords that can pulverize an opponent in a single blow, but that is not their true specialty!”
“What…?”
“The duel that once defined them lasted an entire day and night, involving a thousand exchanges! Their true strength isn’t the instant kill, it’s the war of attrition!”
“Attrition…?”
The disciple stared blankly at the two figures, who were clashing and re-clashing without a single heartbeat’s pause. He couldn’t reconcile the words with the sheer, explosive power he was witnessing.
“You expect me to believe they can sustain that level of power in a long-term fight?”
And that wasn’t even factoring in the fatigue. The Sword Monarch was exhausted from a forced march without sleep, and Yeom Gwak-chu had been fighting on the front lines all day.
“Dammit, get up! Move!” Whether the disciple understood or not, the senior uncle hauled him to his feet and barked at the remaining Wudang forces. “Flank them! Do not, under any circumstances, approach that area!”
Fortunately, or perhaps naturally, not a single disciple was stupid enough to argue after witnessing the previous slaughter.
“Tsk…!” The senior uncle muttered irritably as he surveyed his retreating juniors. “Where the hell is the man who should be controlling these kids hiding at a time like this?!”
He was looking for Immortal Master Taecheong, the overall commander of the Wudang northern expeditionary force.
***
Oh dear…
Immortal Master Taecheong, the man the senior uncle was so desperately seeking, was currently watching from a distance.
Tsk, tsk. Look at that.
As he watched his disciples being practically dismantled by the shockwaves of the two masters, he let out a mental click of his tongue. What a shame… If he had stayed in his position, they might not have died.
Then again, if a man can’t sense the difference between where he’ll live and where he’ll die, he wouldn’t have lasted long anyway.
Talent and potential were all well and good, but without a survival instinct, they all died before they could truly bloom. He efficiently erased the names and faces of the dead disciples from his memory. Now was the time to suppress his presence to the absolute limit.
He began to slither forward, hugging the ground as he tittered inwardly. Hehehe…
When was the most enjoyable moment to watch a duel? Was it when two warriors were pushed into a corner until they revealed every hidden card? Or was it when they achieved a breakthrough in the heat of battle?
No.
It’s neither.
It’s when I get to finish that duel with my own two hands…!
He had cleared the path for the Sword Monarch, who had been so desperate for a rematch. But that was only because there was no reason to face a brute like Yeom Gwak-chu head-on if he didn’t have to.
Hehe. Sword Monarch, my apologies, but… Immortal Master Taecheong slid like a serpent toward a deep, massive crater created by the masters’ exchange. This isn’t a sacred dueling ground. It’s a battlefield.
He descended into the crater, a triumphant smile spreading across his face. I’ll be the one to claim the credit for slaying the Sword Pinnacle Crushes the Mountain.
Just as he reached the bottom and prepared to peer over the edge…
“…”
“…”
Immortal Master Taecheong found himself staring directly into the eyes of another figure already crouched in the crater.
The only reason they didn’t both scream was because they were both incredibly seasoned, cunning masters of the Murim.
What—?! Who the hell is this?!
Despite his discipline, Immortal Master Taecheong couldn’t stop his eyes from widening in shock. How did this bastard crawl in here without alerting either the Sword Pinnacle Crushes the Mountain or the Sword Monarch?!
The man was an old, filthy mess, covered in dust and mud as if he’d been crawling on his belly for miles, just like Immortal Master Taecheong himself. He appeared to be of a similar age, and he was staring back with an equally horrified expression, a sword held in a reverse grip in his hand.
“Wait…?”
“You…?”
As they studied each other’s faces, realization struck them both simultaneously.
“Immortal Master Taecheong?!”
“Geom Gwi-hon?!”
They didn’t need to be friends to recognize each other. These were men whose faces and reputations had been known throughout the Central Plains for decades.
The man in the crater was none other than Geom Gwi-hon, the “Scarred Ghost Sword,” and the Deputy Head of the Sword Forest from the Luoyang Sword Clan.
“You…! What the hell are you doing here?!”
“Why are you here?!”
They both realized it in the same heartbeat. The man in front of them had crawled into this hole with the exact same objective, the exact same thought, and the exact same timing.
Their next thought, and their next action, was also identical.
Strike first, win the day…!
Clang!
Remaining in their crouched positions, the two old masters simultaneously lashed out at one another.
“You crazy bastard! You go for the throat immediately?!”
“Look who’s talking! Have you lost your damn mind?!”
And so, quite suddenly, a separate battle began in the mud of the crater, a messy, undignified brawl between two legendary masters who had long since forgotten the meaning of honor.