CLS-Chapter 466

Chapter 466:

Chwaaaaaaak!

Light splits apart.

With a sound like silk being torn, Cheok Su-gwang’s sword cleaved through the light Wei Yan-ho had unleashed.

What a spectacular sight.

A sword that cuts through light—who could have imagined such a thing?

But everyone watching saw it clearly with their own eyes.

Looking at it from the reverse angle, it was like a dragon ascending through heaven, cutting through a massive waterfall cascading downward. Which was more magnificent?

The conclusion came soon enough.

“Uaaaaaaaah!”

Cheok Su-gwang’s roar, as if he was squeezing out every ounce of his soul’s strength, rang out piercingly. Meanwhile, Wei Yan-ho maintained his composure, calmly watching Cheok Su-gwang plunge downward without disturbing his stance.

And then, one sword strike.

A lightning-fast sword strike flew toward Cheok Su-gwang’s body, which had barely managed to pierce through the beam of light. Not missing the thread-thin opening created by his tremendous exertion.

“Eek!”

The moment Cheok Su-gwang twisted his body to deflect the incoming sword!

Seureurek.

Wei Yan-ho’s attacking sword vanished like a phantom.

‘Phantom Sword?’

Then a sword suddenly shot up toward his chin. Cheok Su-gwang couldn’t even make a sound as he flipped backward.

Seugeok.

But he couldn’t avoid it completely—a long line of blood formed from his neck to his chin. Without even thinking to tend to his wound, Cheok Su-gwang swung his sword.

At this rate, he’d be defeated without even managing to swing his sword once. Desperation and urgency filled his blade with venom. But in this world, there are things that can be accomplished through tenacity, and things that cannot.

Cheok Su-gwang gritted his teeth and raised his head, but strength drained from his grip.

‘Th-this is an illusion.’

An ocean of swords.

Hundreds, thousands of blade edges surged toward him.

Even Cheok Su-gwang, who prided himself on having lived his entire life in Mount Dosan’s Sword Forest, felt nauseous for a moment. How was he supposed to escape from this ocean of swords?

Cheok Su-gwang’s instincts screamed. That not all of it was real, that real and false were mixed together, so he should find the real among them. But Cheok Su-gwang could only let out a hollow laugh.

Right. Not all of those would be real attacks.

But Wei Yan-ho could instantly transform the nature of his swords. The moment he distinguished between real and false, their nature would change again. At that moment, it would become meaningless.

Then what should he do?

The ocean of swords surged toward him. Like rough waves crashing and filling an entire sandy beach with white foam, the writhing, squirming sword blades filled his entire field of vision.

In such a case, there was only one thing he could do.

Li Dai Tao Jiang (Sacrificing the Plum for the Peach).

Give flesh to strike bone.

Cheok Su-gwang had always lived thinking of sparring as real combat, but he never expected he’d be risking his life today. But once his resolve was set, he shouldn’t waver.

Eudeuk.

Gritting his teeth, Cheok Su-gwang leaped into the ocean of swords. It didn’t matter if his arms and legs were cut off. If he could drive his sword into that opponent’s throat, it would be a profitable trade.

Uuuuuuung!

His sword screamed.

The sword couldn’t withstand the energy he’d forced into it. Treating a weapon roughly wasn’t his style, but now wasn’t the time to worry about such things. If he cherished his sword, he would die. With a grim expression, Cheok Su-gwang plunged into the ocean of swords.

Then.

Bulssuk.

The ocean of sword blades split left and right, and Wei Yan-ho suddenly emerged from within, kicking Cheok Su-gwang in the chest.

Cheok Su-gwang was helplessly sent flying and rolled across the ground. At the very moment he was about to channel power into his sword and swing it, Wei Yan-ho seized the opening and kicked him. There was no chance for counterattack.

“Keulleok!“

Cheok Su-gwang collapsed on the ground, coughed up blood. Having been attacked while drawing up his qi, his energy flow had reversed. His eyes held disbelief and terror.

“…Insane.”

If these words had come from someone else’s mouth, it wouldn’t have been strange. But the one speaking now was none other than Peng Dao-ji.

“My thoughts exactly, right?”

Jang-il, hearing Peng Dao-ji’s curse, grabbed Peng Dao-ji’s sleeve as if seeking confirmation. Peng Dao-ji couldn’t even respond properly and just nodded.

“It seems so.”

The atmosphere had turned cold.

This was the Tang Family residence. And that the relationship between Cheok Su-gwang and the Tang Family was ambiguous could be seen just from their expressions. Probably most of those watching this match were hoping that Cheok Su-gwang would be humiliated by Wei Yan-ho. That way, the other sects could accept what happened when Tang Cheon-gun was defeated by Wei Yan-ho.

The way to avoid being mocked for rolling in the mud is to drag those who would mock you into the mud as well.

But the atmosphere wasn’t good.

Everyone’s faces remained rigid.

‘That’s understandable.’

The Tang Family hated Cheok Su-gwang.

But that was another way of saying they acknowledged Cheok Su-gwang to that extent. The martial world was such a place. It wasn’t a place with enough leisure to waste the emotion of hatred on someone without ability.

But now, no matter how you look at it, Cheok Su-gwang was being unilaterally overwhelmed by Wei Yan-ho.

No matter how optimistically one tried to view the situation, Cheok Su-gwang’s split chin and the constant stream of dark red blood flowing from his mouth prevented such optimism.

But that wasn’t why Jang-il and Peng Dao-ji were shocked.

They had already known the outcome when this match began.

Cheok Su-gwang was strong. No matter how much they said he could only reach that position because he lacked surrounding power, the position of Heavenly Alliance Leader wasn’t something you could win in a gambling den.

But Wei Yan-ho was stronger.

It was an unreasonable story, but none of those who had watched Wei Yan-ho thought he would lose to Cheok Su-gwang.

Cheok Su-gwang was strong. And his martial arts were full of variables. But Wei Yan-ho was too strong to be overcomed with those variables.

An expected victory.

It was just a matter of how much he would struggle—it was a fight he would naturally win.

But this was different. This was unexpected.

Neither Jang-il, nor Peng Dao-ji, nor even Mu San with his hardened expression had thought Wei Yan-ho would overwhelm Cheok Su-gwang so unilaterally.

Even though they had seen Wei Yan-ho draw out his full power when fighting the Soul Confusion Demon Lord.

“Did he get stronger in the meantime?”

“Ridiculously so, at that.”

Jang-il clicked his tongue.

He hadn’t reached the level Wei Yan-ho was at. But martial arts wasn’t something where you had to reach that level to gauge its standard.

Wei Yan-ho was strong. But if it had been Wei Yan-ho from when he fought the Soul Confusion Demon Lord, he wouldn’t have shown such a one-sided display against Cheok Su-gwang.

That was something he could guarantee.

“And something’s changed about him.”

“Definitely. How should I put it…”

Peng Dao-ji frowned slightly, then spoke.

“Should I say what was scattered has been organized, or that it’s become even more scattered? I can’t explain this.”

Then Mu San, who had been quiet until now, spoke.

“He’s found direction.”

“Right, that’s it.”

Peng Dao-ji nodded vigorously.

Until now, watching Wei Yan-ho fight gave that feeling.

Infinitely strong, but it felt like that strength didn’t know where to go.

It felt like water had filled to the brim in a massive dam with nowhere to flow.

But now that dam had burst.

The water that had filled to the brim began flowing down with tremendous force.

“He became this strong in such a short time?”

At Jang-il’s words, Mu San shook his head.

“That’s not it.”

“Huh?”

“He didn’t get stronger in the meantime. He was strong before, but he didn’t know how to utilize his strength.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone who had never seen a sword before was swinging it around, then one day realized it. That there was a blade inside the scabbard. Young Master Wei has drawn his sword from its scabbard for the first time.”

“…”

“Of course, he probably got stronger too. But don’t you know how much stronger masters of that level become when they gain a single insight?”

“Damn it.”

Jang-il ground his teeth.

“Others wander through deep mountains and valleys and undergo hellish training to gain that one insight, but that bastard gets it while lying around?”

Mu San frowned slightly.

“Benefactor.”

“Benefactor my ass!”

Peng Dao-ji spoke in a low voice.

“I definitely had that question.”

The surrounding gazes turned to Peng Dao-ji.

“Wei Yan-ho’s swordsmanship had no context. It seemed like everything was contained within it, but I also felt like nothing was there. I wondered what his master was thinking when he taught him such things.”

“What are you talking about? He turned that young man into such a monster.”

“Right. But think about it. If Wei Yan-ho had spent the time building up all that just training in fast swordsmanship, what would have happened?”

“…”

Jang-il couldn’t answer immediately. He couldn’t imagine that scene in his head.

“He would have been at least twice as strong. That’s what learning everything means. But his master wouldn’t be unaware of that. If it’s Wei Yan-ho’s master, he would naturally be stronger than Wei Yan-ho. But such a person stuffed Wei Yan-ho with such things. Strength without direction or purpose, absurdly great strength. And now that chaotic strength is beginning to find its path. Then what exactly is that bastard…”

Peng Dao-ji’s mouth clamped shut.

What sword would Wei Yan-ho draw from that chaos?

The clue was right before his eyes.

Where Peng Dao-ji’s gaze landed.

There was Cheok Su-gwang, breathing heavily.

‘Hold on a little longer.’

So he could see more.

“…He’s not even human.”

Wei Yan-ho’s assessment from Cheok Su-gwang was quite simple.

Just because he was losing didn’t mean he wanted to praise Wei Yan-ho. Among those he had encountered, counting both the living and the dead, he could name twenty who were stronger than the current Wei Yan-ho.

If he included those he didn’t know, how many in the world would be stronger than Wei Yan-ho?

The world was vast, and there were more unknown masters than known ones. In terms of strength alone, Wei Yan-ho didn’t deserve Cheok Su-gwang’s praise.

But Cheok Su-gwang was sending pure admiration toward Wei Yan-ho.

No, perhaps this wasn’t admiration for Wei Yan-ho but for Wei Yan-ho’s master. Whoever it was, they had created a complete monster.

Unlike his frivolous words and actions, when Wei Yan-ho held a sword, he was like the ideal of a swordsman. Utterly calm and never flustered.

The seasoned wisdom of someone who had experienced thousands, tens of thousands of real battles was present from that age. And Wei Yan-ho didn’t stop there. The blood and vigor unique to youth was harmonized with that well-carved sculpture-like form. It wasn’t a perfect sculpture but a living, moving sculpture that was now before his eyes.

‘An ideal…’

Cheok Su-gwang wore a bitter smile.

‘I wanted to become like that too.’

Not like his current self.

Cheok Su-gwang had pride in himself, but if he could go back to the past and choose between a prestigious sect and being a wanderer, he would choose without hesitation to become a disciple of a prestigious sect.

“You’ve rested enough. Come, let’s try again.”

So wasn’t it unfair?

He couldn’t achieve what he had desired, yet that young man was achieving it.

So… at least he should leave a scratch on that smug face. That would be the way to prove the swordsmanship he had devoted his life to.

Strength entered Cheok Su-gwang’s hand as he gripped his sword.