Chapter 1812. If It Must Be Carried (12)

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A flicker of tension briefly crossed the face of Thousand Faced Manipulator, Dam Yeohae.

'Sword Under Heaven, Jongli Gok… and Nokrim King, Im Sobyeong.'

Questions of whether they fit together or not were irrelevant. Debating such trivialities over what had already transpired was meaningless.

What truly mattered now was not their personalities but the level of their martial skill.

'How strong are they?'

It had already been over ten years since rumors of Jongli Gok being one of the Three Greatest Swordmen Under Heaven. Whether he had grown stronger or weaker since then was anyone's guess.

He could have become more powerful, or he might have weakened. Often, those who take on the heavy responsibilities of sect leadership grow weaker, burdened by administrative duties.

Thus, no one could accurately gauge the current strength of Jongli Gok.

The same went for Im Sobyeong. Could anyone in the world claim to have seen Nokrim King Im Sobyeong truly fight with all his might?

Faced with a life-or-death situation, he would choose to flee. If running wasn't an option, he'd avoid conflict altogether. That's how Im Sobyeong survived years of war with the Myriad Man House while remaining unscathed—he felt no shame in retreating or yielding.

Given this situation, it was no wonder that Thousand Faced Manipulator felt perplexed. Despite standing before two figures of such renown, he couldn't determine the likely outcome of a battle. For someone who prided himself on his foresight, this was a first.

However, it seemed someone else had a different perspective.

"Huff."

A sharp aura that felt like blades pierced through Dam Yeohae. Standing next to him, Jeok Ho, appeared like a completely different person from the moment Jongli Gok arrived.

'Well, that's understandable.'

Tang Gunak was strong. Neither his reputation nor his martial skill could be ignored by anyone in Kangho.

But for those aiming to master the pinnacle of martial arts, he wasn't an enticing opponent. Poison and unconventional weapons were hard to reconcile with the path of righteousness.

'It's amusing for someone like him to talk about righteousness.'

At least Jeok Ho didn't seem to find it amusing.

Every nerve in Jeok Ho's body was focused on Jongli Gok, a concentration so intense that even Thousand Faced Manipulator could feel it.

The mere presence of a formidable opponent was enough for Jeok Ho to forget about the complexity of the situation and focus solely on the challenge before him. Dam Yeohae envied that simplicity of mind, at least in this moment.

It seemed that one of the two opponents shared similar thoughts with Thousand Faced Manipulator. Noticing his gaze, the man clicked his tongue and spoke.

"Tch. A murderous aura that could tear someone's face apart."

Im Sobyeong waved a fan leisurely, as if dismissing the situation, then turned to Jongli Gok beside him.

"That man with the blade looks exceptionally strong, doesn't he?"

"And?"

"And what? I'm asking if your aging bones can handle this."

Jongli Gok's brow twitched.

"I'm flattered that a sickly fellow who coughs blood for fun is so concerned about me."

"Don't misunderstand. Geniuses are often frail, you see. Not that someone like you, a mediocre talent, would understand."

"Perhaps I'm no genius, but I'd rather live long than be cut short. Keep running your mouth like that, and you'll be the one with a short life."

Im Sobyeong's face contorted.

This old man is more stubborn than he'd expected. Im Sobyeong rarely lost in matters of wit or will, except for a crazy Taoist, yet he couldn't overwhelm him.

"So, can you handle him or not?"

"...How absurd."

Jongli Gok smirked coldly.

"You're asking if I can handle a petty evil sect? Your arrogance is beyond measure. It seems these so-called evil sect scoundrels have no sense of their place."

After a brief silence, Im Sobyeong nodded.

He wasn't agreeing with Jongli Gok. He was beginning to understand the frustration of the Mount Hua Sect disciples, who would grind their teeth and foam at the mouth at the mere mention of Zhongnan.

'Having a man like this around would make it impossible to harbor good feelings.'

Since joining Heavenly Comrade Alliance, Jongli Gok had shown a surprisingly mild demeanor, which had made people forget that he was just as foul-tempered as they came. The reputation of Zhongnan for leaving no bones behind was no accident.

Perhaps even the Jin family's infamous temper could trace its roots back to Zhongnan.

"I just hope the Sect Leader's sword is half as intimidating as his temper."

"If you don't get in my way, it'll be easy."

"Ah-."

The moment Im Sobyeong was about to say one more word while gritting his teeth, a sudden cracking sound erupted.

A perfect blade energy, sharp and clean to the point of flawlessness, streaked toward them as though splitting the world in two.

Even Im Sobyeong froze momentarily, his body covered in goosebumps.

At that moment, Jongli Gok's sword moved smoothly. A massive sword energy, glowing faintly blue, enveloped his blade as he intercepted the incoming strike head-on.

Kwaaaaaang!

A thunderous explosion erupted.

'Wow…'

Im Sobyeong's mouth hung slightly open.

Jeok Ho's strike had been extraordinary, a masterpiece of simplicity taken to its extreme.

While Mount Hua's swordsmanship was the epitome of grandeur, Jeok Ho's blade was the epitome of simplicity—perfectly honed to its essence.

Yet Jongli Gok had blocked that near-perfect strike without much effort.

"...Impressive."

The voice of admiration came from none other than Jeok Ho's mouth.

He hadn't expected a decisive result with that strike, but he'd thought he might gain the upper hand. After all, a sword master should be at a disadvantage in a direct clash with a heavy blade.

But Zhongnan's leader had stood firm, blocking the strike with a single, effortless slash.

This was a true opponent. Jeok Ho's lips curled upward.

His blood was boiling. His fighting spirit surged. He felt most alive when facing a foe like this.

'How far can this go?'

Kwaang!

Jeok Ho leaped forward.

In just one exchange, he'd realized that ordinary techniques wouldn't suffice. Only his full power could match this opponent.

Closing the distance in a single breath, Jeok Ho brought his blade down in a powerful, straightforward strike.

It was an obvious move, devoid of any trickery.

But the heavy blade was at its most potent when descending from above. 

Kwaang!

Jeok Ho's blade clashed with Jongli Gok's sword.

Kwaang! Kwaang! Kwaang! Kwaang!

A series of thunderous booms echoed through the air.

Jeok Ho's single, lethal strike, seemingly suited for a 'one-strike kill', unfolded into a relentless barrage of consecutive blows. Such a combination—lethal singularity with successive strikes—seemed almost paradoxical, yet the immense power imbued in his blade made it possible.

Even under this barrage of near-supernatural precision, Jongli Gok's sword remained unshaken.

He neither preemptively seized control of the situation nor employed cunning techniques to redirect the attacks. Instead, he merely blocked each path the blade carved, meeting it head-on. With such an unassuming yet deliberate approach, Jongli Gok effortlessly neutralized Jeok Ho's fearsome onslaught.

Strength against strength. Technique against technique. 

'What is this?'

Jeok Ho was utterly astonished.

Had Jongli Gok's sword spread into a flurry of countless strokes to counter his, Jeok Ho might not have been so overwhelmed.

But there was no such wastefulness in Jongli Gok's swordplay.

One strike of the blade met with one strike of the sword.

'Is this even possible?'

Jeok Ho could wield his blade as he pleased, but the defender had to discern the direction of the attack before responding. By nature, defending was inherently disadvantageous.

Yet Jongli Gok was evenly matched with Jeok Ho.

'Does this mean he's a level above me in skill?'

Jeok Ho bit his lip. Not yet. Not just yet.

The veins on his arms bulged as he summoned even more power. The blade emitted an even greater aura, crackling with energy.

Kwang!

Jongli Gok seized the smallest opening and swung his sword, deflecting Jeok Ho's blade with precision.

Screeech.

Jeok Ho's feet scraped against the ground as he was pushed back several paces—nearly three zhang (approximately ten meters). His expression hardened as he was helplessly forced backward.

He swallowed his astonishment while staring at Jongli Gok. Even words of praise were difficult to utter.

'So this is the strength of a leader from one of the Ten Great Sects?'

No, it wasn't just the position of sect leader. It was Jongli Gok himself as a swordsman who was formidable.

Jeok Ho's eyes shone with pure admiration. Meanwhile, Jongli Gok, receiving that gaze, couldn't hide his dissatisfaction.

"Tsk."

He clicked his tongue softly.

"Even a mere rogue of evil sect dares to wield a blade that approaches righteousness."

"...There is no righteous path, evil path, or demonic path in martial arts."

Had Cheong Myeong heard this, he would've frothed at the mouth in outrage. However, Jongli Gok did not particularly refute the statement. The dissatisfaction he felt wasn't directed at Jeok Ho but at himself.

'How frustrating.'

Facing an opponent who relied on cheap tricks was easier. But combating someone walking the path of orthodoxy made things much more challenging.

The reason was simple. Jongli Gok's sword was a defensive sword. It could block adversaries with unyielding strength but lacked the capability to pierce through an impenetrable opponent.

'This is why...'

He had no complaints about his sect's swordsmanship. After all, it was the Zhongnan Sect that had brought him this far, and their sword techniques formed the foundation of his skills.

But... Jongli Gok remembered.

He remembered seeing the sword of Namgung Hwang. He remembered seeing the sword of Heo Do.

In his youth, Jongli Gok believed his sword was equal to theirs. He was confident he would surpass them one day.

Yet as the years passed, he came to realize something. While he could block their swords, he could never pierce through them. His sword, designed not to lose but not to win either, had inherent limitations.

When he grasped this truth, the despair he felt was beyond words.

It wasn't that he couldn't become the best in the world. It was the realization that his successors would inevitably arrive at the same conclusion that left him in despair.

He could accept his own limitations. But he could not accept the limitations of his sect. And he absolutely could not tolerate the despair his successors would feel.

Thus, he took a step he should never have taken.

He regretted it, and he felt guilty. But...

Paaang!

At that moment, Jeok Ho unleashed a powerful surge of blade energy.

Jongli Gok instinctively swung his sword. His mastery of post-initiative strikes allowed him to deflect the blade energy with ease once again.

Paaaaaang!

But then, from behind Jeok Ho's blade energy, a brilliant white aura erupted like an explosion.

'Ugh!'

Jongli Gok held his breath.

Countless movements wove together into an intricate display, surging forward like a ferocious waterfall. 

Caught off guard by the sudden attack, Jongli Gok prepared to defend himself, even at the cost of some injury.

"Tsk tsk."

A faint clicking of the tongue was followed by something unfurling in front of him.

'A fan?'

A white fan adorned with elegant cranes gently fluttered. It multiplied into dozens, filling the space before him.

The fans floated gracefully, twisted in peculiar arcs. Jongli Gok felt that the movement was like a butterfly circling around a flower.

Kwakwaakwaang!

The white aura collided with the fans and dissipated.

Thanks to this, Jongli Gok emerged unscathed, rendering his earlier resolve to sustain injury unnecessary.

"Just so you know..."

The image of the Nokrim King, Im Sobyeong, entered Jongli Gok's view. Im Sobyeong's face radiated smug satisfaction.

"You owe me one."

....Jongli Gok thought that perhaps losing an arm would have been a better outcome.