I Kidnapped the Youngest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan Chapter 56

The Third Elder paused his training session to announce the upcoming duels. He turned to us with a slightly awkward expression.

“I feel a bit bad saying this, but during the duels…”

“We’ll hold back accordingly.”

“As long as we don’t use poison, right?”

“That would be greatly appreciated. That should be more than enough.”

It was about what I expected. If we fought at full strength, it wouldn’t be a proper match.

The third-generation disciples were still young and, at best, at a second-rate level. Even most of the second-generation disciples, their instructors, were only first-rate warriors, with only a handful of the older ones having reached the peak realm.

Of course, victory and defeat weren’t determined by martial prowess alone.

But I retained the enlightennt I had gained before my regression.

It would be strange for to struggle against a warrior at my level.

The sa went for Tang Sowol. Though it had taken so effort, she had once managed to briefly paralyze —even when I was using the Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art at full force. Not to ntion, she had fought against a berserk Soul Reaper who had consud a Demonic Explosive Pill and lived to tell the tale.

It wasn’t that Wudang’s disciples were weak. They carried the dignity befitting a sect of the Nine Great Sects.

It was just that Tang Sowol and I were far too strong for our age.

The Third Elder, having observed our aura and heard from the Ghost Shadow Thief, was clearly aware of this.

It was unfortunate that I wouldn’t get to test my full strength, but the purpose of this duel was to witness the pure, untainted swordsmanship of Wudang.

And for that, my current opponent was not a bad choice.

More importantly, the condition of this arrangent was that I could study anything I wished from Wudang’s techniques in exchange for sparring with their disciples.

At the very least, I needed to confirm the insight I had grasped yesterday.

As I nodded to myself, the Third Elder gestured toward the training grounds, where the disciples had stepped aside, leaving the center open.

“Then, let’s begin. How shall we decide the order?”

“I’ll go first,” Tang Sowol volunteered. “I know Sir Cheon is looking forward to this match quite a bit, but…”

“It’s fine. You’ve been just as eager, haven’t you?”

“…Was it that obvious?”

“No. I just assud as much.”

It seed Tang Sowol would be returning to the Tang Clan soon without getting to experience much of the martial world.

Though the encounters she had during this journey were far more intense than what most young martial artists ever faced, the duration had been far too short.

So now, with the opportunity to engage in friendly duels with the Wudang disciples—a proper martial experience—she was bound to be excited.

Smiling sheepishly, she adjusted her hidden weapons and stepped onto the training grounds.

Watching her, the Third Elder turned to the gathered disciples and called out.

“Well then! Who among you will be the first to showcase Wudang’s sword?”

The disciples had been watching eagerly, exchanging glances with excitent. After a brief mont, a young woman confidently raised her hand and stepped forward.

“I will go first!”

She seed a little older than Tang Sowol, with an aura indicating a solid mid-first-rate level. Judging by the slightly worn grip of her sword, she was soone who diligently trained every day.

For her age, that was quite impressive.

And judging by the confident and expectant expression on her face, she knew it, too.

She reminded of how Tang Sowol had been when she first left the Tang Clan—before I kidnapped her, that is.

And even I had once been just as confident.

Well, unless one was born with Heavenly Martial Physique, any martial artist would inevitably experience failure at so point.

If she could face that setback in a spar rather than a real battle, it would be a fortunate experience.

As I nodded in understanding, the two won faced each other and exchanged respectful salutes.

“I am Tang Sowol of the Tang Clan. Please take care of .”

“I am Jin Yuryeon, a second-generation disciple of Wudang. It is an honor to witness the renowned martial arts of the Tang Clan.”

At the call of the Third Elder, who had taken the role of referee, the duel began.

Tang Sowol imdiately pulled back to widen the distance, while Jin Yuryeon quickly closed in.

Though Tang Sowol primarily specialized in poison arts, that didn’t an she lacked proficiency in hidden weapons.

Especially recently, after absorbing the Self-Replenishing Venomous Herb, she had been training extensively in her throwing techniques as a contingency for situations where she couldn’t use poison.

Thanks to that, their duel was exceptionally dynamic, offering valuable lessons for both the participants and the spectators.

Tang Sowol’s footwork, characteristic of the Tang Clan, made it seem like she was barely moving her feet, yet the distance between them rapidly shifted.

At the sa ti, a flurry of throwing weapons rained down, twisting mid-air in unpredictable arcs toward Jin Yuryeon.

From her perspective, it must have felt like an assault from all directions.

The bladed projectiles streaked toward her at high speed, while the blunt ones ricocheted unpredictably to create irregular trajectories.

Against an ordinary opponent, such an attack would have left them skewered like a porcupine.

But Wudang’s martial arts were on an entirely different level.

“Hup!”

Jin Yuryeon took a deep breath and swung her sword in rapid succession.

At first glance, her swordplay seed disorderly, as if she were striking at random.

But each swing served as the foundation for the next attack, forming an unbroken sequence.

Of course, she was occasionally forced into awkward stances while deflecting the projectiles, and sotis her judgnt was a little slow, causing her to miss a few.

But she compensated for those weaknesses with her footwork.

Much like her swordsmanship, her movents allowed her to shift directions freely, enabling her to evade the weapons she couldn’t block.

And so, the exchange continued—Tang Sowol maintaining distance while attacking with hidden weapons, and Jin Yuryeon deflecting or dodging them as she advanced.

Yet, surprisingly, Jin Yuryeon was gradually gaining the upper hand.

It was a matter of compatibility.

Tang Sowol was trying to pressure her opponent with a relentless barrage to set up a decisive strike.

But Jin Yuryeon’s Wudang swordsmanship seamlessly wove every movent—whether swinging her sword or hesitating after blocking—into the flow of her next move.

She showed no hesitation, no openings.

She simply continued her pursuit of Tang Sowol with steady determination.

Tang Sowol’s footwork was excellent, so she wasn’t easily caught.

But if she made even a single mistake, the balance would collapse instantly.

anwhile, even if Jin Yuryeon made a mistake, she could simply incorporate it into her next movent.

In a prolonged war of attrition, Tang Sowol was at a disadvantage.

As a swordsman, I couldn’t help but notice Jin Yuryeon’s minor imperfections, but I could also see the deeper truth within her technique.

Most martial arts focus on minimizing mistakes through rigorous training.

But this was different.

It didn’t matter if a mistake was made.

No—mistakes didn’t exist in the first place.

Everything was simply part of the flow, seamlessly linked to the next move.

That technique…

“That isn’t a sword ant to kill an enemy. It’s a sword ant to perfect oneself.”

“Indeed. What does it matter how one swings the sword? In the end, it is the swordsman, not the technique, that wields the blade.

Thus, one must neither despair nor beco overly elated.

One must simply continue refining oneself.”

“I agree that techniques shouldn’t be overly fixated upon. Though my conclusions lead elsewhere. What is the na of this martial art?”

“It is called Nine Palaces Divine Traversing Sword (九宮神行劍法) and Nine Palaces Step(九宮).”

I had heard of both techniques before, but I had never actually seen them in practice.

After Wudang's downfall, the survivors I encountered were all too preoccupied with mastering techniques that would make them stronger as quickly as possible.

In that sense, a technique like the Nine Palaces Divine Traversing Sword—which required years of dedication for the practitioner to grow stronger rather than granting imdiate power—had naturally fallen out of use.

So this was how it was originally ant to feel.

I agreed with the idea that the swordsman, rather than the technique, should be the one to grow stronger. But the reason for that growth—the ultimate goal—was vastly different from my own martial path.

For , the sword had always been a tool to kill my enemies, never a ans of self-cultivation.

Even if two martial arts originated from a similar concept, focusing on the self rather than the opponent, the end result could be entirely different.

My sword was like a starving wolf—piercing into the enemy’s space, breaking their stance, exploiting their openings, and relentlessly closing in until their last breath was snuffed out.

But the Nine Palaces Divine Traversing Sword that Jin Yuryeon wielded did not concern itself with the opponent’s actions.

It began and ended with the swordsman alone.

That was why it remained unaffected by external pressure, unwavering in its path—just as Jin Yuryeon continued to close the distance despite Tang Sowol’s relentless barrage of throwing weapons.

No warrior, no matter how strong, could always control the flow of battle. Any martial art that relied on dictating the opponent’s movents would beco exceedingly vulnerable in such situations.

I wasn’t sure exactly how yet, but I could already see that this philosophy could be quite useful in refining my own techniques.

Instead of rely following the sword’s trajectory, I focused on the intent behind each movent, repeating the process over and over.

anwhile, Tang Sowol, realizing that she would eventually lose at this rate, took a desperate gamble.

She abandoned her previous strategy of maintaining distance and using hidden weapons for suppression.

Instead, she dashed forward, swinging her wide sleeves dramatically.

Flutter.

A grand motion.

The flowing fabric of her robe painted elegant curves in the air, almost like a dance.

And from within those billowing sleeves—

A torrential downpour of deadly projectiles erupted.

There was no precise targeting, no calculations.

She simply focused on unleashing as many as possible.

Many of them missed completely, flying off in random directions.

Yet, paradoxically, that randomness worked in her favor.

Jin Yuryeon, who had thus far been focused on deflecting each projectile one by one while maintaining pursuit, suddenly found herself unable to block or evade the overwhelming flood of weapons.

A careful observer might have noticed that most of the projectiles were aningless, scattered without aim.

But caught off guard by the abrupt shift, Jin Yuryeon instinctively did what she had been doing all along—she prepared to deflect them.

“Ah… good grief.”

The Third Elder let out a weary sigh, rubbing his temples.

At that mont, Jin Yuryeon’s sword moved.

Unbeknownst to her, hidden among the scattered projectiles was a Feather Needle, aid precisely at one of her acupoints.

Since internal energy use was minimized in this duel, it wasn’t life-threatening.

But if it struck, it could still cause a serious injury.

This was exactly why a senior expert was acting as the referee.

Before the needle could land, the Third Elder had already drawn his sword and stepped between them.

Wooosh!

With a single swing, the sheer force of his internal energy sent out a powerful gust.

The thrown weapons, rather than being sent flying wildly, simply fell harmlessly to the ground as if pressed down by an invisible hand.

Both combatants, stunned by the overwhelming display of martial prowess, flinched.

Then, the Third Elder calmly declared,

“That’s enough. The winner is Tang Sowol of the Tang Clan. I trust you understand why.”

“…Yes.”

Jin Yuryeon, now noticing the Feather Needle gleaming on the ground, nodded with a sullen expression.

She sheathed her sword and offered a respectful salute.

“It was an excellent match. I had the privilege of experiencing firsthand just how formidable the Tang Clan’s hidden weapon techniques are.”

“Ah! I feel the sa. The swordsmanship of Wudang is truly remarkable.”

A proper exchange of martial arts, a fierce yet respectful battle, and a conclusion where both sides smiled in mutual appreciation—

This was the ideal form of a friendly duel.

Of course, after that, Tang Sowol, the Blood Venom Unit leader, and I had to crouch down and gather up all the scattered projectiles.

But overall, the atmosphere was warm and lively.

Which was why I wasn’t expecting what ca next.

“I am Jin Baek, a third-generation disciple of Wudang! It is an honor to duel you, young master!”

I had anticipated facing soone of similar martial prowess.

What I didn’t expect—

Was that my next opponent would be soone my age.

And even more surprising—

It was a face I recognized.