Azure Divine Sword
Kang—!
In an instant, a flash of the sword exploded at the center of the duel stage.
The weather was so clear that it was difficult for light to flare up, yet for a brief mont, it was blinding.
Soon after, one clash, then a third, swords collided in rapid succession as vital ki burst violently in all directions.
Kaang! Kwaang!
Each ti the swords t, the audience gasped in awe.
The air itself shimred like a mirage from the force of the strikes, visible to the naked eye.
Zhongnan's sword contained the subtleties of the balanced sword.
Every sword strike was heavy and deliberate.
It was always a sect contrasted with Mount Hua, which focused on dazzling illusion swords as its main martial arts.
Yet, true to Taoist tradition, it boasted a flowing and seamless connection of moves, as fluid as water.
In comparison, the Namgung clan was no less renowned for its sect's traditions.
The very secret art that only the clan head and successor train in is called the Imperial Sword Form.
It was natural that the tyranny of kings would be embodied in it.
In so ways, it was a eting of disciples from two schools both similar yet fundantally different.
Kwaang! Kwaang!
They maintained a set distance, fiercely exchanging offense and defense.
Neither seed willing to back down easily.
Each moved only to block or deliver another sword strike, as if believing that even the slightest retreat would give the opponent the advantage.
Yet even after only this short ti, their faces showed a difference.
In contrast to Namgung Hui, whose expression was unchanged and indifferent from the mont he'd stepped onto the stage, Zhongnan's Dropping Pine Sword was visibly starting to breathe heavier.
From the very start, there was a discrepancy—to the core—in swordsmanship.
It was the difference in accumulated cultivation.
Namgung Hui's sword possessed such explosive force that it could well be called a mighty sword.
Yet even so, he swung it lightly and freely, scattering sword guards in every direction.
It was the Namgung clan's fad Boundless Sky Sword Technique.
"As expected..."
Could it be that witnessing such overwhelming martial skills from a peer was not entirely pleasant?
Murong Song muttered next to him, as if suppressing a sigh.
The others seed to feel the sa.
The leisurely smiles and idle chatter had disappeared without a trace.
They stared solemnly at the duel stage, watchful and silent.
At that mont.
Sssk.
Namgung Hui, who had been wielding his sword in a relentless onslaught, suddenly withdrew his sword with a single advancing step.
But it wasn't a forcible stride. On the contrary, the weight on his foot seed incredibly light.
And yet, with that very step, he slipped through his opponent's guard.
He had-nimbly thrust himself into the bursting energy of Dropping Pine Sword's chained sword strikes.
"...!"
Dropping Pine Sword's eyes widened, and he hurriedly drew back his outstretched sword, swinging it horizontally.
The blade, brimming with true ki, drew a wide arc, sweeping nacingly toward Namgung Hui's neck.
But the distance had already closed with a single stride.
Namgung Hui's left hand shot out first.
His open palm thrust straight into Dropping Pine Sword's side.
Puk!
"Urgh!"
Dropping Pine Sword dropped his weapon, bouncing backward.
"...!"
Those watching were so surprised they sprang to their feet. That's how quickly it all happened.
Flutter―
As Dropping Pine Sword flew back, he spun smoothly in the air.
His robe billowed in a circle before he landed gently on the ground.
Tak.
But his complexion was dark. He knew the result himself.
"..."
He'd dropped his sword. For a swordsman standing on the duel stage, there was nothing left to say.
He slowly straightened up, perford a martial salute, and spoke softly.
"I concede. And I am also grateful you showed restraint with that final palm."
An explosive cheer erupted.
It was a brilliant and overwhelming victory. Words poured out all at once.
"Did you see that? That's the Boundless Sky Sword Technique!"
"Truly, the Azure Divine Sword! Isn't he fit to be the future Murim Alliance Leader?"
"Please protect the righteous path of Murim!"
The scions of other noble clans, including Gongsun Yeong, began to speak among themselves again.
So comnted that Namgung Hui's swordsmanship had beco even sharper than last year, others lanted that Dropping Pine Sword had held out surprisingly well, still others joked at how disheartening it was to live in the sa era as such a swordsman.
At that mont, Gongsun Yeong, who had been frowning slightly, suddenly spoke up.
"But wasn't this duel similar to when Cheon fought the Sorrowful Edge Divine Spear? Especially that final palm technique, it really was..."
"..."
Jeong-un didn't answer, as his eyes were locked with Namgung Hui's, who was staring intently at him from among the spectators.
Without realizing it, Jeong-un smiled.
'How interesting.'
Gongsun Yeong was not wrong.
It had been a bold forward stride, breaking into the opponent's range.
While it might look like re courage, in truth, it was impossible unless one had completely seen through the opponent's line of attack.
Even following up with the palm technique after breaching the gap was the sa.
Even the way he controlled his strength so as not to humiliate the opponent.
Everything mirrored the duel Jeong-un himself had once shown.
The only difference was that today's opponent recognized the gesture of restraint.
Unlike Dropping Pine Sword, Zhao Gang probably still believed that he'd survived Jeong-un's palm thanks to his own body-protecting ki.
Even accounting for that difference, however, it was still an extraordinary feat.
To deliberately replicate soone else's duel pattern and win?
With diocre skill, it would be an impossible stunt.
It could only be done with overwhelming superiority.
What's more, this wasn't just any duel, but one at the Shaolin Assembly.
A semifinals match against a disciple of a senior sect, no less.
The attempt itself would be beyond anyone lacking firm resolve.
'That's proof of both his skill and his self-confidence.'
And perhaps he wanted to say sothing to . So thought Jeong-un, watching Namgung Hui.
"..."
Namgung Hui gazed quietly at Jeong-un for a while before turning away.
The martial artists near Jeong-un imdiately began whispering among themselves.
"Why did he suddenly look this way?"
"He said he preferred to be alone, but did his mood change?"
"He must be lonely. The higher one's martial accomplishnt and status, the more isolated one becos. It must be hard to find friends of equal standing."
Namgung Hui had not once appeared at any private gatherings throughout the Shaolin Assembly.
So when he suddenly looked their way, they guessed there must be so aning to it, though lacking any real clues, most of it was just idle speculation.
Ignoring the chatter, Jeong-un spoke to Shin Soryeong.
"I'll be heading in now."
"So soon? There's still one more duel left. It's Peng Mu-gyeol's turn—you saw him last ti. It should be really interesting."
At that, Gongsun Yeong, who had been watching Namgung Hui and Jeong-un with wide eyes, suddenly interjected.
Jeong-un smiled faintly.
"My internal injuries haven't fully healed, so I should focus on circulating my energy."
"Oh, then I'll..."
When Shin Soryeong looked about to rise and follow, Jeong-un lightly waved his hand.
"Please stay. As Miss Gong said, just witnessing masterful duels is an education. I'll rest quietly in my room."
"Ah..."
Seeing that Jeong-un was politely declining, Shin Soryeong nodded reluctantly.
She, too, was a martial artist and would not want to miss the duel of the one who had defeated her.
"Then."
With a martial salute, he turned and walked into the crowd.
A few who recognized him glanced his way, but soon turned their attention to the duel about to begin.
Though Jeong-un had attracted attention, he was now disqualified from the tournant.
Such interest flares quickly, then fades just as fast.
After weaving his way through the crowd and turning onto a quiet path back to the lodgings—
He spotted the back of a man walking ahead.
He looked like an ordinary commoner.
Jeong-un naturally quickened his pace and drew up beside him.
"How is the Heavenly Martial Hall?"
It was Gwak Gyeong, the contact.
He started, his eyes widening, before quickly regaining his composure and answering softly.
"Our people are dispersed naturally around Mount Song. All are performing their duties with no idea of the real reason."
"Any new information about the Divine Thief?"
Gwak Gyeong shook his head.
"No clues whatsoever. Even with the Shaolin Assembly nearing its end..."
Tomorrow was the final match.
After that, the crowds gathered here would gradually disperse.
The weather had grown cold as well.
Though many among the guests were relatively affluent, not many would remain just to witness the bell-ringing ritual.
After all, that sound could be heard for a hundred li.
They had vaguely expected Divine Thief to steal sothing amidst the chaos of the crowds.
Yet, so far, the thief had made no move at all.
"How about Shaolin's side? Any sign of theft?"
When Gwak Gyeong asked, Jeong-un also shook his head.
Other than ti spent on the duel stage, he had busied himself every day, investigating the temple grounds thoroughly.
Yet he'd found nothing suspicious.
The monks of Shaolin were the sa.
Whether because they were conscious of the Divine Thief or not, their faces showed so asure of wariness, but nothing more.
No matter how deep the monks' spiritual cultivation or how firm their equanimity, if sothing had been stolen that rocked the very foundation of the temple, their energy would have been unsettled.
Gwak Gyeong said carefully:
"Perhaps the thief's goal was the incident itself? He shook the preeminent righteous sect with nothing but a single letter. Maybe that was his aim all along."
It made sense.
Not just Shaolin, but even the Heavenly Martial Hall had been thrown into chaos.
To have played with the whole of Murim with nothing but a scrap of paper was no small feat.
If he was the type who just sought amusent, perhaps that would be enough.
'No, that can't be it.'
Jeong-un shook his head.
This was soone who had leapt over Shaolin's walls as if they were nothing with a masterful lightness technique.
Granted, it had been while the abbot was away, but on the contrary, that ant he knew the abbot's daily life down to every detail.
Would such a persistent fellow be satisfied with just this prank? Nonsense.
Jeong-un spoke.
"I understand wanting things to end quietly."
"Sorry?"
"But he'll co for sure. He is a thief. A thief must steal sothing to be a thief. He can't build his reputation on re stains to a sect's dignity. A thief who returns empty-handed is a failure. At best, people will only say, 'he didn't steal anything because the defenses were solid'."
"..."
Gwak Gyeong closed his mouth. Jeong-un's argunt was sound.
He'd only voiced his hopeful wish that things would end without incident.
"You're right."
"More importantly, tomorrow is the final match. The largest number of people will be gathered. I won't let my guard down either. If anything happens, I'll signal you right away, so please inform the Heavenly Martial Hall without delay."
"Understood."
Gwak Gyeong nodded solemnly and withdrew.
"..."
Jeong-un looked after him, then turned to go the opposite way.
'Divine Thief.'
What a laughable title, he thought.
Soone who had mastered such a lofty body art, yet stooped to re thievery.
And that was not all.
He had heard that the man was said to kill without hesitation when escaping, and did not distinguish between commoners and martial artists.
Divine Thief—what an excessive na for one like that.
That, too, was a reputation built on stolen goods. Suddenly, an old saying rose in his mind.
'A man leaves his na after death.'
Sssk.
Jeong-un's hand, almost unconsciously, found his sword guard. He muttered inwardly.
'I'll be the one to leave your na behind.'
Jeong-un gripped the sword guard tightly.
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