Chapter 157

Gwangshin, Wipe the Blood, Disciple 2

Kwang-shin folded his umbrella again, then casually extended it straight out as he unleashed his lightness technique. It was a bizarre motion, his body rigidly upright while thrusting the umbrella in a straight line. Though the technique was strange, its power was naturally far more fierce than Cheol-myeong-ho’s strike with the Fang Tian Hua Jue while galloping on horseback.

As the Yeto Scholar swung his sickle down toward the tip of the umbrella…

Sparks flew.

Then, the Yeto Scholar fiercely parried the torrent of attacks from the fanatic with his sickle. In that instant, seven bursts of flame erupted in succession.

Gwangshin precisely pierced the positions of the Big Dipper, and Yeto Seosaeng blocked each strike with his sickle.

After the lightning-fast thrust ended, this time Fanatic continued the attack with a slashing motion.

The trajectory was exceptionally long.

This was because he was executing it alongside swift footwork. As the sword wind (劍風) extended forward, to the right, and to the left, the spectators’ hair whipped back in unison.

Each time Yeto Seosaeng blocked a slash, he forced a counterattack in between, thrusting his sickle like a wedge.

But Kwangshin countered even the blocking motions with his own slashes.

It was a situation where his opening attack was repelling the opponent’s strike. Yet, even with these simple thrusts and cuts, he pressed forward, driving the Yeto Scholar back as if under relentless pressure.

Above all, the speed of the fanatic’s divine technique and footwork seemed maddeningly fast to his disciples and sworn brothers. It was so extreme that it only served to highlight the skill of the Yeto scholar blocking those attacks.

‘How on earth is he blocking those attacks?’

But Kwangshin hadn’t even begun to show what he truly intended to demonstrate.

If what he had shown so far was solely the speed of the Three Calamities Sword Technique, what he was about to show was its combinations.

Kwangshin raised his iron-clad umbrella as if to strike down, then abruptly shifted mid-motion into a thrust.

Clang!

Yeto Seosaeng calmly read the trajectory, parried it, and was pushed back slightly.

Kwang-shin closed the gap with a striding step, then unleashed a diagonal downward strike.

Thwack!

This time, anticipating the path, Yeto Seosang reacted first. In that instant, Gwangshin bent his wrist downward and aimed another thrust at Yeto Seosang’s wrist.

The length of the black iron umbrella overwhelmingly dominated the sickle, forcing him into a continuous defensive posture.

Clang!

The Yeto Scholar pulled his arm back to protect his wrist, forced once more to parry with his sickle.

The following combination was no different.

Kwangshin didn’t even consider defense.

Pure offensive dominance, forcing the first strike.

He dominated this duel solely through the combination of attack paths and the Three Calamities Sword Technique, along with sheer speed.

He thrust mid-swing, aimed low mid-thrust, parried the falling blade with a slash, and unleashed a flurry of downward strikes.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Even while blocking, the Yeto Scholar felt uneasy.

It was difficult to predict when the trajectory would change.

Now, even to the Yeto Scholar, this was no longer a simple Three Calamities Sword Technique.

Meanwhile, as the fight continued, Kwangshin seemed to grow more comfortable with the iron-clad umbrella in his hands, his combinations growing increasingly complex.

The swift thrust unfurled along the Big Dipper’s constellation suddenly halted on the third stroke. Charging forward, he drew a horizontal slash—the second stroke—then spun his body to unleash a fierce downward strike, completing the hastily devised technique in that instant… As soon as he confirmed the response of the Earthly Scholar, he swiftly traced each remaining position of the Big Dipper one by one.

Thud-thud-thud!

The Yeto Scholar frantically moved his sickle, precisely parrying each thrust one by one.

Yeto Seosaeng’s eyes were starting to blur.

Considering that Gwangshin’s opponent was originally the Magician, the situation was bound to make one’s heart sink even further. Moreover, the question of whether the Samjae Sword Technique was truly a simple sword technique received a definitive answer through Gwangshin’s possessed attack.

It was by no means a simple sword technique.

Rather, the correct answer was that it was the foundation, the bedrock martial art capable of generating an infinite variety of sword paths.

This was the Three Calamities Sword Technique that Kwangshin intended to show Cheolmyeongho.

Cheol Myeong-ho watched with wide eyes, imprinting every single movement of his master into his mind.

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Compared to the others watching the duel together…

The nameless emotion and profound awe Cheolmyeongho felt could only be deeper and more intense.

For the Three Calamities Sword Technique he practiced daily had become, in Gwangshin’s hands, a technique even the Grand Master of the Ten Thousand Horses Palace could barely block.

Of course, Cheol Myeong-ho knew well that he couldn’t immediately reach that level himself.

But he couldn’t help but be constantly amazed, constantly remembering, and the pure desire to one day reach that level himself wouldn’t subside.

Instead, it was bubbling and boiling within his chest.

He felt this even more strongly because the Samjae Sword Technique he practiced daily was not a meaningless martial art.

Amidst this, Cheolmyeongho had this thought.

How many times had the master actually swung his sword?

Cheolmyeongho, imagining this, smiled with a strange expression.

He hadn’t even completed a million swings yet, yet he felt he had suffered enough already. But he thought his master, fighting on the martial arts stage, must have endured far more painful years than he had.

His body must have been in agony, and his heart must have been lonely.

As Cheol Myeong-ho watched the duel, his eyes gradually reddened.

‘If a man wants to accomplish something, he ought to do at least that much, shouldn’t he?’

While watching, the image of a noodle shop on a rainy day suddenly came to mind.

His friend’s expression and words, as he grabbed his collar, were still vivid. Cheol Myeong-ho probably hadn’t said them anticipating he’d one day witness such a splendid Samjae Sword Technique. Yet, the words heard in the pouring rain were shining brightly again in this moment.

‘Do you really think you can kill someone with a few childish hand and foot gestures? Do you think ten thousand times is too many?’

That question from back then—I could finally answer it clearly.

‘No, a hundred thousand times is not too many. A million times is not too many either.’

Look at the master.

That man, Master Gwangshin of Cheolmyeongho, was someone who trained his martial arts over and over again, millions of times, with the resolve to tear the demonic path to shreds.

Now, even Cheol Myeong-ho could clearly see that pain and that tenacity.

This was true enlightenment, broadening one’s horizons.

It was a karmic connection and a stroke of luck born from Cheolmyeongho’s character, Danwooseong’s invitation to join, and Gwangshin’s skill.

Cheolmyeongho let the tears flow freely from his eyes when they suddenly began streaming down pitifully, without trying to control his emotions.

He didn’t care about anyone else’s gaze anymore.

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Gwangma felt the most unsettled here.

The Yeto Scholar was the master of the demonic path, and while his connection to the fanatic was unavoidable, he was still the master of the righteous path.

Yet, upon realizing who his true heart was rooting for, he couldn’t help but feel strange.

Deep down, he wanted the fanatic to win.

Because he himself wanted to tear the masters of the Ten Thousand Demons Palace apart and kill them with his own hands.

But wasn’t he, after all, not a white-robed cultivator?

He could only watch the contest with a heavy heart. Then, he suddenly glanced at Cheol Myeong-ho, who was watching the duel beside him.

Cheol Myeong-ho, while watching the duel, was streaming thick tears from both eyes.

The Madman frowned.

‘Why is this crazy bastard crying?’

Suddenly, the Madman glanced around. The other White Path martial artists weren’t crying, but their basic expressions weren’t much different from Cheol Myeong-ho’s.

‘Damn it, not a single sane one among them.’

The Madman clicked his tongue as he looked at the crazed men.

‘You crazy bastards, what’s so sad about this? That’s the kind of faces you make.’

It was beyond the Madman’s comprehension.

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As the fanatic drove the Yeto Scholar back, he laughed eerily. The sharp aura surrounding the sickle wrapped in martial energy was gradually dulling.

The Yeoto Scholar’s own martial power was sufficiently high. Yet, the strength of the black iron umbrella unexpectedly overwhelmed that sickle.

Even though both were wrapped in the same qi, the impact delivered to the object inevitably differed.

The reason martial arts masters obsess over legendary swords stems from the same logic. In the martial world, where victory can hinge on the difference of a single sheet of paper, the gap in hardness between the sickle and the iron-clad umbrella was immense.

The iron-core umbrella that Cheolmyeongho carried around was ultimately proving useful to Gwangshin as well.

Yet tracing the origins of this black iron umbrella reveals it was a pure gift from Murong Bin, who had taken a liking to Danwuseong. In other words, Murong Bin’s heart, too, was helping Gwangshin through various twists and turns.

Before long, the sickle wielded by the Yeto scholar had all its teeth misaligned, crushed and bent in their crooked state. It was a miracle the blade was still attached to the shaft.

Kakakang!

A sinister crack echoed from the middle section of the sickle, which had blocked multiple thrusts in succession.

The Yeto Scholar poured forth his strength, simultaneously flinging the sickle with his other hand. He had already deemed it a weapon past its prime.

At close range, both the force of the strike and the sickle flew toward him simultaneously…

Kwangshin swiftly unfolded his umbrella.

CRASH!

As the flying spear and sickle simultaneously struck the umbrella and vanished, Kwang-shin folded the umbrella again with a smile.

‘Hmm, an interesting weapon indeed.’

The Yeto Scholar glared at Kwang-shin, his lips pressed tightly together.

Having thrown away his sickle, he was as good as defeated in this weapon duel.

Even if he tried something, Kwangshin was too fast; there seemed to be no time to prepare a counterattack.

As Yeto Seosaeng hesitated, Gwangshin spoke.

“Go ahead. Anything…”

Kwang-shin lowered his iron-tipped umbrella toward the ground, then paused as if giving Yeto Seosaeng a chance.

In truth, Gwangshin had only deployed the Three Calamities Sword Technique thus far, never once using the most arduous technique he was training in: the Star River Divine Art.

Of course, the Demon-Slaying First Form, the Sky-Shattering Sphere, couldn’t be used at the Martial Alliance headquarters. Repairing the damage would cost a fortune.

However, the Demon-Slaying Second Style, Meteor Glow, was a beam specialized for assassination. It was named after the light emitted when a meteor falls, being an Extreme Yang Finger Technique that shot out rapidly to pierce the body of any fugitive in its straight path.

Since the opponent had discarded their weapon, he intended to unleash it at any moment.

The Demon-Slaying Three Forms was a body technique unleashed during decisive battles, a frenzy executed with death in mind. It was a martial art that allowed Gwangshin to move faster than his maximum achievable speed under normal circumstances.

The combination of the First and Third Forms would surely decide the outcome.

For a moment, Gwangshin and the Yeto Scholar stared at each other as if time had frozen.

Yeto Seoseng, who had no faith whatsoever in Gwangshin, quietly stepped back and cautiously enveloped his entire body in the Yeto Magic.

Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Yeto Seosaeng’s body appeared to be enveloped in yellowish-brown sand.

When Gwangshin stood still, only then did Yeto Seosaeng exhale a sigh of relief and prepare his technique.

As they clashed with their techniques, the yellowish-brown sand, the Yeto, scattered like tiny grains of earth, threatening to cover the fanatic’s entire body. It was a technique where the filthy dirt enveloping his body transformed into deadly soil that would kill his opponent.

Kwang-shin waited for the Yeto Scholar, as if daring him to try anything…

The Yeto Scholar leapt into the air, exposing vulnerabilities across his entire body. He had planned to exchange several attacks before unleashing the Yeto Magic.

In midair, Yeto Seosaeng crossed his hands front and back, unleashing successive bursts of energy.

Kwangshin deflected every single force wave with his iron-tipped umbrella. Then, closing the distance, Yeto Seosaeng unleashed his close-range force techniques.

For some reason, Gwangshin’s body stood rigidly upright once more as he swung his iron-tipped umbrella, moving with large, sweeping motions before executing a powerful downward strike.

The movement was truly simple.

At that instant, the Yeto Scholar’s eyes widened as he unleashed twin beams forward.

Simultaneously, the Yeto enveloping Yeto Seosaeng’s body expanded like wings to the left and right, then swirled around in a form that engulfed a person, covering Kwangshin’s entire body.

As the Yeto coalesced, reshaping itself into a human form.

Fearing Gwangshin’s escape, the Yeto Scholar immediately thrust forward with a single strike.

CRACK!

‘I’ve won.’

As it scattered like flying sand…

The Yeto Scholar’s mouth opened halfway.

Through the gaping hole torn open by the tension, beyond it, the fanatic was staring at him.

It was a scene he could not comprehend.

Kwangshin had evaded using a decisive technique that consumed considerable energy, so he hadn’t even noticed the great master moving for a moment.

The Yeto Scholar had no choice but to transform the scattering Yeto into his protective barrier. With a strange sound, the Yeto Scholar’s body was once again covered in yellowish-brown sand in an instant…

Gwangshin, who had been standing still to lull the Yeto Scholar into complacency, pointed his finger as if he had something to say.

However, it was no ordinary pointing—it was the Extinction-Destroying Finger, Meteor Strike.

Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

A beam of light shot from his finger, piercing a hole through the Yeto Scholar’s forehead and bursting out the back of his head, spurting blood along the way.

Puff!

The yellowish-brown sand surging in from both sides finally swirled around Yeto Seosaeng’s head.

The Yeto Scholar was already tilting his head back, slowly falling backward.

Yuseonghui’s speed was faster than the self-defense technique protecting his body.

As Yeto Seosang collapsed onto the martial arts stage…

Blood flowed from his head, spreading in a circle across the floor of the martial arts stage.

Kwang-shin, hands behind his back, tilted his head slightly and stared blankly at the Yeto Scholar’s corpse.

“Farewell.”