Book 2 Chapter 19

An enemy met on a single-plank bridge, no, an enemy.

Just as Hocheon went towards Yeomdo,

rushing like a moth into a flame,

a single cry was heard from within the pavilion.

Though not loud,

it was a dignified voice that penetrated the clamor of the hall

and clearly reached everyone’s ears.

The profound and majestic internal energy within it indicated that the opponent was undeniably a master of the highest level. Only such a voice could pierce the collective consciousness of the crowd, refresh the atmosphere, and draw attention. It was easy to guess that he had employed a very advanced internal energy cultivation technique.

The moment he heard the voice, Yeomdo stopped his attack, which was about to crush Hocheon. He froze, as if thrown into stopped time, halting all his actions and movements. Yeomdo doubted his own ears. It was a voice he could never forget, a voice that would never leave his mind, a voice he would carry to his grave, no, a voice that would follow him to the afterlife. It was the voice of the person who had left a fatal wound etched in his heart. How could he forget a voice so deeply ingrained in his soul?

A seed of doubt began to sprout in a corner of Yeomdo’s heart. The thought of "Could it be?" arose. His fists, which seemed incapable of trembling, shook slightly. What if it were him? His gaze slowly fixed on the pavilion, the source of the voice. Then, the pavilion door opened, revealing a graceful and dignified middle-aged man.

With pale blue silver hair, a blue beard (靑髥) and blue eyebrows (靑眉), the middle-aged man was entirely clad in blue, the opposite of Yeomdo. It wasn't the deep blue of the sea, but a translucent, pale silver-blue that evoked the coldness of ice. Seeing him, Yeomdo's eyes widened like a startled rabbit’s. His eyes sprang open as if he had witnessed an unbelievable mystery. Veins, like a net of thin red branches, appeared on his bulging eyes. A thunderous roar erupted from the depths of his chest.

"Cheol-su!"

It was a terrifying roar, capable of making mountains and trees tremble like aspens. Everyone was startled by the voice that vibrated through the air. However, the recipient of the shout, Binggeom Gwan Cheolsu himself, did not seem surprised. Whether he was deliberately hiding it or felt no particular emotion, no sign of inner turmoil could be read on his face. He maintained a serene composure, like a still lake, without showing any disturbance. In short, he was a man as piercingly cold as the snow of the Northern Sea. His lips, frozen like a glacier, parted, and a voice colder than a snowstorm emerged.

"We meet again, Hee!"

Hee (姬) is a Chinese character meaning princess. Of course, Yeomdo's name was Hee (嬉), meaning joy, not princess Hee (姬), but in the past, Binggeom used to call him Hee (姬), as if mocking him.

"You! Don't call me that!"

Yeomdo roared again. His whole body trembled violently with intense anger. His body was quivering. Why hadn't he realized sooner? He thought he could sense that man’s presence even from a thousand miles away… It was only natural that his cherished sword Hongyeom, who was like his alter ego, was crying so sorrowfully. That man’s beloved sword, Bingru (氷淚). Its transparent blue blade, imbued with an icy cold radiance, was a transparent ice-blue sword carrying the extreme yin coldness that could freeze moonlight.

The sword Bingru (氷淚), identical in length and weight to Yeomdo's beloved sword Hongyeom, without a single deviation or error. It was the twin sword of Hongyeom, born as a pair of yin and yang, separated from the Taiji at the moment of their creation. Twin swords are bound to call out to each other and draw each other in. It was natural for them to resonate so sorrowfully as they grew closer.

"Was it really you? It was you! Binggeom Gwan, Cheol, Su!"

Yeomdo’s roar echoed, shaking the hall. His voice was an explosion of immense rage. Yeomdo acted as if he had met his mortal enemy. What had happened that made Yeomdo treat him that way? It was unknown. It was something only the two of them knew. They were so contrasting. Their spirit, aura, personality, appearance, color, everything was in stark contrast. They were opposing poles, absolutely irreconcilable. They seemed like a confrontation of extremes. Polar opposites that could never mix. A divergence that could not achieve harmony. There was no other way to describe them.

Binggeom (氷劍) Gwan Cheolsu!

He was one of the five renowned swordsmen of the martial world, praised alongside the five great sabermen, and is currently the head of the Jinmu Hall at the Cheonmu Academy. Jinmu Hall was a crucial department that oversaw and managed the martial arts division within the Cheonmu Academy. In other words, Binggeom was the person currently responsible for the management of the martial arts division within the Cheonmu Academy. In short, he was a person of great status. Furthermore, Binggeom was a perfect martial artist, receiving the respect of all in the martial world, with no flaws in his character, disposition, or martial arts. He was also said to be the swordsman closest to the "mind sword" (心劍), the ultimate swordsmanship in the martial world.

Some even claimed he had already mastered the mind sword. That’s how much Binggeom’s level was recognized and affirmed by everyone. There were even rumors that Binggeom Gwan Cheolsu was effectively the senior among the five great swordsmen. Even such a man had a relationship with Yeomdo Gwak Yeonghee that could be described as water and fire, or rather ice and fire. His noble character seemed to fail him in front of Yeomdo. They were mortal enemies, comparable to water and fire, oil and water, cat and mouse, or dog and monkey. No one knew what had happened in their past. Only the two of them knew…

These two were in opposition on every single aspect. And they were also the first people they wished to avoid meeting if at all possible.

"Has it been ten years?"

The frozen lips of Binggeom opened. His voice was as chillingly cold as the glaciers of the Northern Sea. A frigid, cold tone devoid of any trace of emotion. His posture was unyielding, his silver hair tinged with blue, and his beard, grown neatly, was the same color. If Yeomdo was entirely red, he was entirely blue. Especially his hair, which was not a deep blue but a translucent, silver-blue close to pure silver.

The faint blue-silver color of his brow, beard, and hair, the flowing blue silk of his martial uniform, and finally, the divine sword (神劒) hanging at his waist, exuding a chilling coldness! It was his beloved sword Bingru (氷淚), an extension of himself.

"Heh heh heh. Was it really you? The one who allowed a mere master of Hoajang to openly occupy the center of Cheongwan’s (天館) front yard in Namchang? Right, it would be you."

Yeomdo cackled.

"I've known him for a long time and offered a little help. The rest is all his own effort. I was merely an advisor, nothing more, nothing less."

"Hmph, you've always been like that. Acting all noble and superior…"

Yeomdo seemed to dislike every single one of Binggeom’s actions and gestures. His words and deeds were filled with dissatisfaction and animosity towards Binggeom.

Yeomdo, who had been venting his unfiltered displeasure and animosity towards Binggeom, paused unusually, and then, with some effort, uttered something. His tone was small and serious, vastly different from when he was mocking Binggeom.

"How… how is she?"

Finally, Yeomdo asked the question. He had touched the powder keg between them. He had dared to prod a dangerous object that, even with a slight graze, could explode and injure those around them. Immediately, a glint flashed in Binggeom’s eyes. He knew Yeomdo would eventually bring this up. But there was one thing he absolutely did not want to touch.

"She is well!"

The cold tone, still devoid of emotion, replied. Yeomdo’s eyebrows twitched. Was that a sign of inner turmoil? As if sensing his expression, Binggeom also paused for a moment before speaking.

"Eighteen years ago, when we went our separate ways, you asked only about her well-being. She was pregnant then…"

"She was three months along. You scoundrel!"

A flicker of pain crossed Yeomdo’s face. The old wound in his heart, which he had tried to forget, ached anew.

"When we met by chance ten years ago, you only asked about her well-being."

"Hmph, you mean when we fought without rest for three days and nights? I should have killed you then, finished it. Consider yourself lucky to have survived then because of the child in her belly."

"Who are you to say that? If she hadn't appeared then, you wouldn't be standing here alive. You were truly fortunate to escape death. Eighteen years ago, ten years ago, and even now, I have only one thing to say: she is well!"

"That statement of yours hasn't changed in eighteen years. It's still as unconvincing as ever. Do you have anything else to say?"

"Ah, the daughter has become very beautiful. She inherited her mother’s beauty. She's even more beautiful than her mother was in her youth."

Yeomdo thought, "That scoundrel is so eloquent with a face and tone that say, 'I am a person who possesses no such thing as emotion.'" Binggeom’s words were like salt in Yeomdo’s wounds. Salting refers to the process of uniformly injuring meat and sprinkling it with salt for long-term preservation. But what would the pain be like to be salted alive? It would be a pain that could not be expressed in words. Even after being salted, Yeomdo, mustering the last of his patience, pretended to be nonchalant and said,

"Is that so? That's good. Then I won't hold back anymore."

"Shing."

The beloved sword Hongyeom was drawn by itself and settled into Yeomdo's hand. It must have sensed its master's intent. Binggeom’s beloved sword Bingru also let out a clear, ringing sound as it was drawn from its scabbard and into Binggeom’s hand. The two were irreconcilable. There was no room for compromise between them. They found each other’s mere presence, sharing the same sky and breathing the same air, disgusting.

They swung their respective beloved swords and sabers simultaneously, not a moment apart. A second without an inch of yielding. From Hongyeom, which Yeomdo wielded, a crimson rainbow imbued with fearsome fire energy shot out like a beam of light. As if unwilling to be outdone, Binggeom’s beloved sword Bingru unleashed a blue-white rainbow, imbued with a chilling coldness that could freeze moonlight, slicing through the air.

The sword energy of the red light, leaving afterimages of flames in the air, was so powerful that even Biryuyeon and the warriors of Hoajang, watching the scene with great interest from a distance, could clearly feel it. Biryuyeon, watching from the side, could not help but admire Yeomdo’s move. It was a fearsome single strike with the fierce momentum of an erupting volcano. The sheer momentum was so terrifying that everyone thought it absolutely impossible to block. If Yeomdo’s sword energy was like a scorching inferno, Binggeom’s sword energy evoked the biting north wind and snowstorm, swirling coldly. Even the moonlight seemed to freeze upon contact with Bingru’s sword energy and shatter into pieces.

"Boom!"

The opposing energies collided head-on in the air. The clash of the inferno and the north wind! When internal energy, in the form of sword energy, flies out and intertwines in the air, the outcome is determined by the practitioner's cultivation. Both of them had learned from the same master and were fellow disciples. It was always difficult to determine the superiority of their skills. Both poured all their concentrated internal energy into this single blow. However, victory and defeat were ultimately not decided. The two colliding energies canceled each other out and vanished in the air. Their accumulated internal energy levels were equally matched. It was a perfect mutual cancellation.

"Whoosh!"

The dust generated by the clash of powers swirled in all directions, obscuring the vision of the onlookers. In the dust, accompanied by an immense gust of wind, the onlookers could not open their eyes properly. They all covered their faces with their sleeves, trying to see what was happening, but it was all in vain.

A moment later, as the dust settled and visibility was restored, their standoff became clear. However, Binggeom completely disregarded the onlookers’ expectations. There was no sign of any damage on Binggeom’s entire body. The ice-blue rainbow-like extreme yin sword energy emanating from his sword had so easily blocked the terrifying sword attack.

"Hmph, as expected, you rotten bastard, your skills haven't rusted yet!"

Yeomdo said, spitting out the words. He looked extremely displeased. Of course, no injuries were found on Yeomdo’s body either. Thus, the two, who had dedicated themselves to martial arts solely to surpass each other, could only have a bitter taste in their mouths. Even though they hadn't exerted their full strength, both clearly understood that their power was not unbalanced. Though they didn't want to admit it…

"You too!"

Binggeom’s face remained cold, without the slightest movement of his facial muscles.