Chapter 1814. If It Must Be Carried (14)

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"Sahyung! I, I…"

Suddenly, a loud shout from Jo Geol broke the silence, drawing Yoon Jong's furrowed gaze toward him. Jo Geol was pointing at something in the distance.

"Since when did that guy get all the way over there? That's unusual."

Upon closer inspection, Jo Geol's words seemed accurate—it truly was unusual. Im Sobyeong had voluntarily stepped forward to the frontlines.

"Is that okay? The opponent looks pretty strong. And there's Thousand Faced Manipulator as well."

"Hmm…"

Yoon Jong frowned in thought for a moment before shaking his head.

"Sahyung?"

"Leave him be."

"But it still seems dangerous."

"Cheong Myeong once said this before."

Yoon Jong's lips curled into a faint smile as a distant memory surfaced.

"…Genius and talent are not the same."

"What?"

Jo Geol tilted his head, confusion evident on his face. Yoon Jong chuckled bitterly.

"There are plenty of people you can call 'talented', like Monk Hye Yeon or Namgung Sogaju, but true prodigies are extremely rare. And within our generation, there's really only one person who could be called a genius."

"…."

"Someone like that wouldn't act recklessly without thinking things through."

Yoon Jong's words carried an unwavering belief, solid as bedrock. Jo Geol shifted his gaze toward Im Sobyeong in the distance, his perspective slightly altered.

Even so, Jo Geol found himself scratching his head, unconvinced, as he stared at the scrawny, frail-looking back that hardly resembled a warrior's.

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"Tsk."

Amid the deadly aura closing in on him, Im Sobyeong pressed firmly on his chest. After pushing himself to his limits, his half-clogged meridians began to stir.

'Ugh, I really hate martial arts.'

Of course, the reason Im Sobyeong hated martial arts wasn't purely due to his health. While the strain on his body was undeniable, there were deeper reasons. 

He simply hated martial arts in and of themselves. To him, martial arts were like the arms attached to his shoulders—an inherent part of him.

For those who lose their arms, the significance and value of arms become painfully clear. How precious it is to have two arms becomes evident to them.

But for those who've never lost an arm, such realization never occurs. They don't even think deeply about their arms—such things are taken for granted.

Martial arts were like that to Im Sobyeong. Something as natural as breathing, something so easily within reach. He could master whatever he wished, push his boundaries to whatever level he desired, and effortlessly tread paths others couldn't even dream of.

It was simply natural. After all, He possesses the rare, unparalleled meridians.

A mind capable of understanding tenfold from one instance, and a body blessed by the heavens—these were his gifts. The price? A shortened lifespan, a punishment imposed by heaven itself.

Some say that talent breeds interest, interest brings joy, and joy inspires effort. Such people certainly exist, and Im Sobyeong wouldn't deny it.

However, at least Im Sobyeong didn't become that kind of person.

He was someone who found no excitement in what came without effort. Whether it was the status of being the son of the Nokrim King, the control over the vast mountainous regions of the world, or the luxury he could enjoy at any time—all of it left him cold.

Martial arts, in particular, were the epitome of his disinterest. Perhaps because they were the easiest thing handed to him, they were also the quickest to lose their appeal.

That's why he coveted not martial arts, but what he couldn't have—like an official government position

If Jang Ilso hadn't touched Nokrim… If the lives of his family and his close friends who were like family hadn't been threatened, Im Sobyeong might still be working hard to obtain a government position that he would never have had.

Also, if Im Sobyeong hadn't met someone who could see through these thoughts, he would still be withering away day by day in the green grave called Nokrim.

'No, maybe I'd already be dead.'

Im Sobyeong chuckled quietly and unfolded his fan with a single motion.

Clack.

"Aren't you coming?"

His relaxed voice provoked Jeok Ho, whose murderous aura only grew sharper. But this time, Jeok Ho didn't rush in blindly. He had realized the man before him was far stronger than he appeared.

Still, no standoff lasts forever.

Whoosh!

A powerful axe strike shot toward Im Sobyeong, as fierce and sharp as ever—if not more so.

But Im Sobyeong had already seen this attack several times.

To him, 'seeing' was hardly different from 'understanding'. Especially when the technique, like Jeok Ho's axe strikes, was clean and straightforward.

Swish.

Im Sobyeong lightly waved his fan, deflecting the incoming axe. There was no complex technique or overwhelming internal energy involved—just a precise touch, inserted into the flow of the axe's energy.

With that alone, he redirected the trajectory of an attack capable of splitting a mountain, sending it away from his body.

"Haaaah!"

Jeok Ho followed up with another strike, this time even faster and more ferocious. Im Sobyeong frowned slightly.

'How predictable.'

Jeok Ho's technique was fearsome. He was a master who had honed a single form of attack to its ultimate peak. Such focus made his axe strikes undeniably terrifying.

But that was all.

Im Sobyeong's fan swirled gracefully in his hand.

Crafted with a flexible metal core and lined with heavenly silk, it was a weapon unmatched by ordinary iron fans. 

Made by attaching a fan surface [seonmyeon, 선면(扇面)] woven with heavenly silkworm thread [cheonjamsa, 천잠사(天蠶絲)] to black iron [mogcheol, 목철(墨鐵)], which is said to be the best in the world in terms of elasticity. It was a weapon that could not be compared to an ordinary iron fan [cheolseon, 철선(鐵扇)] that was merely sturdy.

Swiiish.

As the fan unfolded, it intercepted the descending axe, sending it off-course. At the same moment, Jeok Ho's knee shot toward Im Sobyeong's chin in a surprise attack.

But the fan, which had just deflected the axe, subtly shifted its angle and latched onto the weapon once more. With a deft twist, Jeok Ho's grip faltered, and the knee that had been aimed at Im Sobyeong's chin missed entirely, grazing past his head instead.

"Oops!"

Seizing the opportunity, Im Sobyeong pushed his fan forward, sending Jeok Ho spinning away like a windmill.

Thud!

This time, Jeok Ho managed to avoid crashing ungracefully, but he couldn't conceal his astonishment.

'What… is this?'

From the beginning, Jeok Ho had felt an odd sense of incongruity.

It was as if his opponent could read his every move in advance. Like fighting someone who existed one breath ahead in the flow of time. 

The blood was still boiling, but at the same time, an unfamiliar sense of helplessness washed over him. It wasn't just because his movements were being read so easily.

'What should I do?'

He didn't know. He had no idea how to face someone who could seamlessly shift between softness and strength, speed and composure in the blink of an eye.

No, it wasn't just him. No one would know how to deal with such a person because they'd never imagined such a being could exist.

"I told you, didn't I?"

Im Sobyeong spoke with a smirk, fanning himself leisurely.

"It's expensive."

"You bastard…"

In an instant, Im Sobyeong appeared right in front of Jeok Ho.

The movement was nothing extraordinary at Jeok Ho's level, but the timing with which it was executed made it exceptionally dangerous.

Jeok Ho hastily tried to retreat, but before he could, Im Sobyeong's foot slammed down on his knee. Without bending his knee, it was impossible to leap back—an undeniable truth of the human body.

"Ugh!" 

Thud!

Jeok Ho instinctively tried to swing his blade, but this time, Im Sobyeong's fan touched his wrist. A slight twist would have been enough to break it.

Frozen in place, unable to move, Jeok Ho stared at Im Sobyeong, who spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Jang Ilso? That guy's tricky. You never know what schemes or techniques he'll pull out next. Fighting someone like that takes at least two lives."

Jeok Ho twisted his wrist to shake off the fan, but before he could fully retreat, Im Sobyeong's backhand struck his chest.

Thud!

Jeok Ho staggered backward, barely holding his footing, only for Im Sobyeong to follow up in the blink of an eye.

"And…"

Jeok Ho pushed his tension to the limit. Even if Im Sobyeong could predict his moves, he decided he'd overwhelm him with raw speed and power.

"Euaaaaah!"

Jeok Ho unleashed his full strength, swinging his blade fiercely, but it failed to reach its target. Im Sobyeong casually deflected the trajectory with his fan.

The fan moved like a fluttering butterfly, tracing strange, unpredictable lines.

Caught up in its bewildering movements, Jeok Ho focused all his attention on it, only to find Im Sobyeong's foot slamming into his abdomen.

"Urgh!"

Jeok Ho slid back once more, his footing unstable.

"And there's no need to even mention the mad dog of Mount Hua."

Im Sobyeong winced as if the thought alone annoyed him, shaking his head. Even imagining himself surrounded by countless flower petals made his spine tingle.

"That guy can do this as easily as breathing. I can only do it briefly if I concentrate with all my might. Sure, I could predict his movements with enough effort, but what's the point? Even if I know, I can't stop him."

Im Sobyeong sighed, complaining with an exaggerated shrug.

"There's nothing I can do against people like that. But…"

Clack.

Im Sobyeong opened his fan and smiled faintly.

"You're different. Thankfully, you're an honest fighter, aren't you?"

Jeok Ho clenched his lower lip tightly, frustration clear in his expression. Im Sobyeong, still smirking, approached him slowly.

"Sorry, but I'm a bit of a sickly man. Let's wrap this up, shall we?"

Jongli Gok stared at Im Sobyeong in disbelief, his expression one of complete bafflement.

'What the heck…?'

It was shocking. No, it was bewildering.

Of course, the one who ruled over the Nokrim couldn't possibly be weak. Naturally, he'd have hidden trump cards. But this went far beyond expectations.

Though his attacks weren't explosively powerful, the way he utilized his techniques was enough to send chills down Jongli Gok's spine.

"....Was the Nokrim King really that strong?"

Jongli Gok wasn't the only one surprised. Even the ThousandFaced Manipulator, disguised as Tang Pae, seemed flustered.

But both soon realized they didn't have the luxury to merely admire the situation. The one they needed to focus on wasn't Im Sobyeong but the opponents standing before them.

However, their circumstances had drastically changed compared to earlier.

"You seem desperate."

At Jongli Gok's comment, the Thousand Faced Manipulator's expression twisted ever so slightly.

It was clear that Jeok Ho wasn't going down easily, but Im Sobyeong was undeniably in control. This, in turn, meant the Thousand Faced Manipulator was in danger.

"To rely on the influence of an evil sect people… It's not exactly a joke, but I don't see the need to refuse an advantage handed to me."

Jongli Gok raised his sword.

"Let's take our time and enjoy this."

The Thousand Faced Manipulator ground his teeth.

If he wanted to survive, he had to defeat Jongli Gok before Im Sobyeong finished off Jeok Ho.

And to do that, he had to overcome the impenetrable wall of Jongli Gok's swordsmanship.

"Damn it!"

The Thousand Faced Manipulator roared as he lunged forward.

Facing the endless variations of the Thousand Faces Technique, Jongli Gok calmly swung his sword in response.