Chapter 50 Wall (3)

Chapter 50 Wall (3)

At those words, Cheolgumsan clamped his mouth shut as if at a loss for words.

But the silence didn’t last long.

A belated, incredulous laugh escaped him.

“You?”

His gaze conveyed not just anger, but outright amusement.

Even his foremost disciple, who had always been close to Yu Jang-myeong, snorted derisively.

The disparity in their levels was that stark.

Moreover, it came after an excessive, one-sided slaughter. Numerically, they were utterly outmatched.

Yet Yu Jang-myeong recited calmly.

“Knowing this injustice myself, and heaven knowing it too, how could I possibly retreat?”

Yu Jang-myeong’s gaze turned to his bloodied second disciple and Ik-hyeon.

A resolve never seen before, and that thing called unyielding fighting spirit, stirred within him.

“Moreover, this is the territory of the Hwasan Sect. Those who have no business here should get the hell out.”

Cheolgeum-san stroked his long-grown beard with one hand.

He knew it too.

That Yu Jang-myeong had stepped forward to save Ik-hyeon, even without other elders accompanying him.

Cheolgeum-san’s eyes twisted maliciously.

“Well now, with Jin-ak bedridden, some fox is trying to play the tiger.”

It was a blatant accusation.

To rebuke Yoo Jang-myeong, the leading candidate for the next Grand Master, by the very one who had put Ha Jin-ak in the sickbed.

Having heard this, he could never let it pass.

For any disciple of the sect, it was a provocation worthy of immediate retaliation.

Yet Yoo Jang-myeong merely let out a hot sigh.

“…Haa.”

With that, Yu Jang-myeong released the rage that had coiled around his entire body.

Seeing this, Cheol Geum-san’s face instantly stiffened.

‘I thought he’d take the bait.’

He, famed for the deep affection between senior and junior brothers, was actually suppressing his anger.

But his admiration ended there.

The momentum was firmly on his side. Even if Yoo Jang-myeong split into dozens, the gap was insurmountable.

Cheol Geum-san swiftly drew his sword.

“Do you see it?”

“…….”

Yoo Jang-myeong’s gaze fixed on Cheol Geum-san’s blade.

The word “Hua Shan” (華山) engraved on the blade had been scraped away by a whetstone.

In its place was carved “Meohwa” (蔑華).

Click.

The dam he had held back burst.

The limits of his endurance and patience shattered the wall of suppressed emotion in an instant.

Yu Jang-myeong, who had briefly bowed his head, lifted his chin once more.

Those two eyes.

A cold, blue glare surged in the eyes gazing at Cheolgeum-san and his greatest disciple.

‘……?!’

Cheolgeumsan instinctively thrust his sword forward.

Graceful curves intertwined with solemn straight lines blurred Yu Jang-myeong’s vision.

Simultaneously, a piercing noise shot forth.

Kikagagak!

As if playing iron and gold on a stone tablet, vibrations coursed through the earth, and a sound like a sharp string being plucked shot out.

The sword technique Cheolgimsan unleashed was the very embodiment of triple strikes in one.

It even seemed he could freely manipulate friend and foe alike.

A line.

A thread thinner than silk thread caught Yu Jang-myeong’s qi perception.

“Gah!”

The disciple who brushed against that line spewed a fountain of blood.

Ik-hyeon managed to block it, but his complexion grew even paler.

A deep sigh escaped the corners of Yoo Jang-myeong’s mouth.

“Indeed.”

Though he wanted to shut his eyes tightly, Yoo Jang-myeong straightened his posture.

He snapped his slightly bent back upright and shook off the overwhelming pressure he’d felt from that strike.

It was coming.

That strike, which had rendered half of the second-generation disciples combat-invalid, was approaching.

Click.

Yu Jang-myeong’s knuckles clenched tightly.

What was contained within that grip was neither a killing blow to slay the enemy nor a powerful strike to counter.

It was solely to deflect that strike and save the remaining second-generation disciples.

“Haah!”

Yu Jang-myeong’s sword tip spun halfway through the air, gliding through the void.

His half-bent knees were more than enough to withstand the motion.

It was thanks to his recent training.

Yu Jang-myeong briefly thought of Gu Yang-jeok, who was far away.

‘If he were here now, it would be incredibly reassuring.’

But he dismissed the thought immediately.

Such shallow reliance on his master was not something he could afford in this situation.

Instead, he poured everything he had trained for at Huashan into this moment.

The longing he felt when he reached his peak surged back.

“…Plum Blossom Sword?”

Cheolgeum-san frowned upon seeing Yu Jang-myeong’s sword technique.

It wasn’t bragging, but the single strike he’d just unleashed was the signature technique he’d honed his entire life through relentless sword training.

He wasn’t called ‘Iron Rock’ in the martial world for nothing.

Yet, he intended to block and halt that with the Plum Blossom Sword?

‘Insolent!’

Cheolgeumsan clenched his teeth and swung again, channeling immense power.

It was like a wave.

A wave propelled by the energy infused into the sword as its fuel. A reaper that sank every opponent it struck without exception.

Yet, Yu Zhangming did not yield to it. He unleashed his technique with an unyielding will, as if refusing to be defeated.

“Plum Shadow River.”

The shadow created by the plum blossoms formed a river, blocking the line from invading his second disciple.

“Plum Fragrance Forms a Stream.”

The fragrance emanating from the plum blossoms forms a current. Each one a sword energy forged by Yu Jang-myeong, a harmony clashing together.

Yu Jang-myeong’s sword dances.

“Plum Endures Snow and Cold.”

The intertwined plum blossoms form a magnificent spectacle, hardening enough to endure even the cold of the snow.

Finally, the technique Cheolgumsan unleashed tumbled to the ground like a kite whose string had snapped.

Soon, the tightly gripped sword tip in Yu Jang-myeong’s hand pointed toward Cheolgumsan.

“From the beginning, the fragrance of a single plum blossom travels ten thousand miles.”

This is called Plum Blossom Fragrance Ten Thousand Miles.

Yu Zhangming’s pupils turned completely white.

Within them lay a single figure: a nameless monster who had lost the name he gained at Huashan.

Simultaneously, he was also a villain who failed to uphold righteousness and principle.

He was also the shameless one who cast aside the disciples he had taken in.

He was also the monster with a human face and a beast’s heart who had driven the senior master of the sect to his death.

“You cannot be forgiven.”

The expression on Yu Zhangming’s face faded away. No, it became colorless and odorless.

In that instant, Cheolgeum-san felt as if Yu Zhangming’s presence had receded.

“What are you…!”

Cheolgeum-san’s voice trembled.

Something unfathomable, a fragment he shouldn’t have seen now, was there.

“What kind of enlightenment did you gain to reach such a realm…?!

Yu Jang-myeong did not answer.

Cheolgeum-san thought he was stalling for time, or perhaps preparing to utter a final, ugly cry.

“You knew our senior brother would become like this, yet you remained silent!”

The rage Yu Jang-myeong spat out shook the mountain path.

It was something beyond what could be called a climax, something of a higher order.

But he overlooked one thing.

“……What.”

That a realm beyond one’s grasp cannot be wielded for long, and even handling it is a torment.

When Yoo Jang-myeong faltered, unable to easily unleash the Plum Blossom Fragrance Ten Thousand Miles, Cheolgeum-san immediately shook off his fear.

The only chance left was now.

That thought made shame flush his face crimson.

“You… you dare, you dare!”

A murderous intent surged within him, demanding immediate death.

Cheolgeum-san’s sword slashed out, carrying a vicious aura. It was a simple cut, devoid of any set technique or form.

The emotion he felt was so profound, even shame felt inadequate to describe it.

A mere first-generation disciple.

A young upstart who had only just reached his peak.

The fact that such a Yu Jang-myeong had nearly overpowered him was deeply unpleasant.

He wanted to destroy his dantian immediately and then crush his face.

“Heh heh, heh heh!”

Purple demonic energy spurted from Cheolgimsan’s complexion.

It was so dense that even all the cultivators nearby could recognize it.

“Good heavens, demonic energy?!”

“How could this be… You’ve been practicing demonic arts?”

Yet the First Disciple reacted nonchalantly. Instead, he tried to seize this opening to eliminate the remaining Second Disciple.

Just then.

Squeak!

A sharp, piercing sound echoed down the path.

“…?”

Cheolgeum-san stared blankly down at his own arm.

Gone.

The hand that had been about to strike Yu Zhangming had vanished.

In its place, a middle-aged man appeared.

“Not only was the elder of Huashan secretly practicing demonic arts, but he was also corrupting his disciples.”

Just how covert were these demonic arts to make such a thing possible?

The middle-aged man—no, Guo Yunpei—revealed a chilling gaze.

“Don’t even think about expecting senior brother treatment.”

“No, Senior Brother Gwak.”

“……?”

Yu Jang-myeong steadied his trembling hand with great effort and pointed at Cheolgeum-san.

“That man can now receive nothing from Hwasan. I have declared it thus on behalf of the senior brother.”

“Ah, is that so.”

Gwak Un-pae’s terse reply seemed to indicate this was precisely what he desired, and he raised his sword defiantly.

Meaning he could take nothing.

“Therefore, I shall reclaim all martial arts and the four limbs’ meridians.”

He would take back everything Hwasan had taught him thus far.

Though Gwak Un-pae was neither the head of the Discipline Hall nor the head of the Precepts Office, he possessed one thing.

He possessed something that surpassed any other at Huashan.

‘The Sword’s Cry!’

Cold sweat trickled down Cheolgeumsan’s cheek.

Huashan’s deadliest killing sword.

The skill that had severed the necks of six black-clad warriors the instant the blade left its scabbard remained.

At that moment, Gwak Unpae spoke coldly.

“Don’t try to block it. Let it pass.”

His sword hand moved toward the hilt.

“Unless you want to die painfully, that is.”

Sssshhhhh, Kagakang!

The sword sang.

* * *

Meanwhile, Gu Yangjie, having entrusted the situation to the Zhongnan Sect, hurried his pace.

Simultaneously, he recalled how particularly gloomy Cheolgeum-san’s face had been.

This doesn’t feel right.

“Hero, hop on here!”

No sooner had he reached the East Gate than Baekcheon signaled with the magic horse he’d prepared in advance.

Bang!

Gu Yangjeok’s body seemed to float up, then instantly landed securely on the saddle.

It was truly an incredible feat of lightness technique.

Even Majigi, who prided himself on having seen countless warriors, felt his hand tremble slightly.

‘I heard from the Sect Leader that he hadn’t even reached the age of majority yet. Where did such a person come from…!’

But he kept it to himself. Baekcheon had ordered him to serve with utmost devotion.

Silence.

For now, that was the virtue, the utmost devotion Gu Yangji desired.

Majigi cautiously inquired.

“Is there anything else you require?”

“No.”

Gu Yangji answered curtly, lightly kicking the horse’s flank.

“…Let’s go!”

Amidst the gradually fading twilight.

A single rider kicked up faint dust as they sped along the path toward the volcano.