Book 7 Chapter 22
The martial artist has one bad habit.
"By the way, what is your swordsmanship? I'll remember it as a gift for your journey to the underworld!"
Cheonsal asked out of simple curiosity as a swordsman.
The desire to know about swordsmanship he had never encountered before was a basic desire that every swordsman possessed.
"Han Sang Ok Ryong Shin Geom (寒霜玉靈神劍)!"
She replied in an emotionless voice. Cheonsal's eyes widened.
"Heh heh! So it is indeed the Han Sang Ok Ryong Shin Geom of the renowned Sword Empress."
A grotesque laugh, unpleasant for the girl's pure ears, burst from his lips. The chilling sound was close to a malicious laugh.
"Good, good!"
He repeatedly said "good." It was a different demeanor from moments ago when he was burning with killing intent, vowing to kill her.
To encounter a swordsmanship with a supreme name, recognized by the world, and to want to discuss superiority is the unwavering mindset of any martial artist. This was no different for Cheonsal, even if he had wallowed in the unorthodox path. Moreover, it was the Han Sang Ok Ryong Shin Geom, the secret sword art of Geomhwu Lee Ok Sang, one of the three stars of Cheon Mu. In his heart, which had been as cold as a field frozen by the winter north wind and snow, a ray of fighting spirit and interest surged for the first time in a long while.
"Heh heh heh! Killing can be done slowly! Before that, I will thoroughly savor your swordsmanship!"
At this moment, fighting spirit was pushing killing intent aside.
"Kieeeek!"
Cheonsal's beloved sword, Gwileong, let out a mournful cry as if exhilarated. It was a phenomenon that sometimes occurred when an overwhelming amount of sword energy was injected at once. It was a sound that hadn't been heard for nearly five years. This sound, also known as the Soul Summoning Ghost Cry (招魂鬼哭聲), had never failed to leave the opponent's corpse intact.
"I won't go easy on you just because you're a woman."
"I am not a woman who is treated differently based on gender. There is no need to go easy on me because we are of different sexes. I have been sufficiently trained to protect myself and destroy evil."
Even facing Cheonsal, the worst of the unorthodox path's "clash," Na Yerim maintained her composure. It was an amazing composure for her age.
"You speak as well as you look! But your beautiful face is not enough to move this old man's heart."
He had lost all desire for sex long ago. Now, nothing but killing gave him any particular pleasure. Only the sight of bright crimson blood before him could stir his desiccated emotions. And if he had to pick one more, it would be a fight. Of course, a fight where no blood is shed is not called a fight.
His goal was to become known as the Sword King by fighting countless battles. To do that, it was a natural step to break the Sword Empress's sword.
Na Yerim's sword tip remained still at a single point, like the surface of a lake without wind. Her sword looked strong enough to withstand any typhoon. And it felt immensely cold.
"Ho! Indeed!"
Cheonsal exclaimed. It was truly worth drawing his sword for a one-on-one battle.
As Cheonsal's killing intent erupted, the grass between him and her began to wither and die in sequence. The space between them had already become a death zone where even birds and insects could not survive. A death zone filled only with killing intent.
The hand of death stretched further, reaching close to her.
"Uuuuuung!"
The pure white sword energy emanating from her sword blocked the manifestation of death, which extended its intangible hand. It was a defense relying solely on instinct.
Her sword trembled violently. A terrifying pressure was transmitted to her through the sword. It was the first time she had felt such immense pressure! It was a pressure that shook her blood and qi, a pressure that could only be felt in actual combat. In her sparring matches with her master, the Sword Empress, her master always held back because it was practice. It was natural that only a handful of people in the martial world could block her full-power sword strike.
"Ugh!"
Her delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly.
It was an impact that vibrated her internal organs. The moment her sword clashed with his intangible sword energy, she realized she might have been too complacent. His skill was far superior to her predictions. The instinctual warning her eyes gave her was not false.
'I can still endure!'
Her gem-like eyes began to shine with firm resolve. For the honor of her master, the honor of her sect, and the honor of her father, she could not retreat like this.
"Jiiiiiing!"
The silver mist emanating from the tip of her sword grew thicker.
She was preparing her ultimate technique. A secret profound art honed for ten years like a single day! The ultimate of sword arts! First, she had to create an opportunity.
"Uung!"
Soul Summoning Ghost Spirit Sword Art (招魂鬼靈劍法)
Second Move (第二招)
Soul Dissolving Collapse (消魂崩裂)
A sky-blue sword energy surged like an oppressive force. It was Cheonsal's unique Collapse Sword (崩劍). The sword pressure emanating from his sword, which seemed thin enough to bend, possessed unimaginable power.
Na Yerim also met his sword move with the utmost caution. He was not an opponent to be underestimated. Divine energy flashed in her eyes.
A multitude of information flooded her. The world's time began to slow down in her eyes.
The Collapse Sword is a martial art designed to crush the opponent with immense pressure, so it cannot be blocked simply by knowing the path of the move. If the power is insufficient, it cannot be blocked even if the path is known. The Collapse Sword itself was created to break through the opponent's defense and strike them.
The martial arts of true peak masters are such that they cannot be blocked even if blocked, and their damage cannot be avoided even if dodged. Therefore, even if the moves are read in advance, the ability to utilize the collected, deciphered, and judged information is essential.
Her prepared sword energy shone with its ultimate brilliance.
Han Sang Ok Ryong Shin Geom (寒霜玉靈神劍)
Secret Profound Art Transmission (奧義 秘傳傳承)
Han Sang Ok Ryong Qi (寒霜玉靈氣)
Sorrowful Misty Cold (悲哀霧寒)
The sword energy, resembling mist or silver powder, gently extended and reached out to Cheonsal. Cheonsal, being a master, could feel the unpredictable power contained within it, quiet and subtle.
If they were to clash head-on, he would undoubtedly be defeated by 120%. Therefore, clashing head-on was dangerous. Cheonsal had heard rumors of how wondrous and fearsome the Sword Empress's swordsmanship was. There were no stories of anyone facing any of them head-on and coming out well. Even a weak child should be cautious.
"No way!"
His reason was cold, but his burning emotions did not follow his reason. Cheonsal clashed directly with her sword. The troublesome thing called the desire to compete, along with his pride, reared its head. Furthermore, the preconception that she was the Sword Empress's disciple and still a young girl fanned the flames of his competitive spirit.
Cheonsal wanted to shatter the Sword Empress's swordsmanship with a head-on confrontation, tarnish her brilliant reputation, and then bring her lofty name down to the ground.
"Swoosh!"
There was no sensation. There was no sound.
He clearly swung his sword to cut directly, yet there was no feeling of swords clashing, or sword energy clashing anywhere.
Only a silver current enveloped his sword like mist.
"I… I was tricked!"
But it was too late. His sword was completely ensnared by her sword energy. It was as if his hand had frozen. Her figure gradually blurred before his eyes. It was her intention to hide her form within the silver mist.
"Foolishness!"
As if to make up for his previous mistake, Cheonsal swung his sword ferociously.
"Swoosh! Kugu-gugu-gugu-gugu!"
Sword wind raged in all directions. The immense pressure contained within the sword wind made her secret technique falter for a moment. For an instant, her form, hidden by the silver mist, was briefly revealed. Although it was a fleeting moment, for a master like Cheonsal, that was enough of an opportunity. He was not so immature as to have his senses stolen by such an illusion.
Crisis!
It was a desperate crisis.
It was certainly a blow that put her under a lot of strain. It was not sword energy that could be easily dealt with. However, someone stepped in to block that crisis for her.
A deep hollow had suddenly appeared between Na Yerim and Cheonsal.
"You're quite something for a young one!"
Cheonsal's Soul Summoning Sword (招魂劍) exclaimed in admiration. He had never imagined there would be two people among such young ones who could dare to block his sword. And they were a pair, a man and a woman.
The one who blocked his sword energy head-on was none other than Bi Ryuyeon.
His presence was beyond what one could imagine for the same person who had boasted loudly and hidden behind a woman's skirt just a moment ago.
'Has this kid gone mad all of a sudden?'
It was not unreasonable to think so.
'He is indeed someone the strategist would take an interest in. They say he will be a source of trouble if left unchecked…'
A sense of crisis deepened the look in his eyes.
"Hahaha! It's just that you're getting old and your strength is waning!"
Bi Ryuyeon unhesitatingly poured cold water on Cheonsal's impressed heart.
"What a rude child! Does that mean you have considerable skill?"
"Of course. I am, as I appear, a veritable embodiment of righteousness, innovation, gentleness, and morality, adhering to a righteous lifestyle, so I do not do foolish things like claiming to have what I don't, or denying what I do."
If Yomdo and Jujakdan had heard this, they would have been dumbfounded and collapsed.
"I have seen your great confidence. I wouldn't mind verifying how much responsibility you can take for what you've said, would I?"
As cold sword energy formed on Cheonsal's sword, an overwhelming aura emanated from his entire body. The reputation of Cheonji Ssalsal was not earned through idle talk, mahjong, or gambling. It was a reputation earned by walking the path of blood and a sea of swords. He believed his name was not something to be toyed with by the tongue of a mere fledgling.
At this point, Cheonsal had to admit that he had underestimated Bi Ryuyeon too much because he saw him as young.
"I will prove it. I absolutely hate being misunderstood as a liar!"
"Do you think you can do it with your skill?"
"Of course. More than enough!"
Bi Ryuyeon replied with unwavering confidence in a resolute voice.