Reincarnated Sword Ghost-Chapter 30 : Light-Flowing Sword

Light-Flowing Sword
The duel between the top disciples turned out to be a bigger event than Jeong-un had expected.
The location and time were announced as a matter of course, and people openly whispered about Jeong-un as he passed by.
They didn't even bother lowering their voices.
"Who do you think will win?"
"Light-Flowing Sword will win, of course. He'll seize victory in a breath. Annihilating One-Slash probably won't even see the sword being drawn."
Jeong-un let all those words wash over him deliberately. The more attention was drawn to him, the more he did so.
How much could he see and learn?
He tried to focus solely on that.
A bout with a strong martial artist was always a good study.
"I heard the Annihilating Sword has already decapitated dozens of Evil Faction bastards."
"Hmph, anyone would achieve as much if they're in the Heavenly Martial Hall long enough. He was just lucky the opportunity came early."
However, rarely anyone spoke well of Jeong-un.
Rather than outright insults, it was more like they refused to acknowledge him at all.
Perhaps this was to be expected.
Those who entered through the regular test naturally hoped for the Light-Flowing Sword's victory.
After all, he had defeated them all to claim the top spot on that roster.
Still, the martial artists who passed the special test did not see Jeong-un as their representative.
They were all rising stars of the Murim Alliance's hundred great sects, while Jeong-un hailed from an obscure martial family in Hanzhong—not even a member of the great hundred sects.
Just because they went through the same special test didn't mean they felt any sense of affiliation.
People even went so far as to call it a contest between the regular and regular tests.
Regardless, it was clear that much attention was being drawn.
After all, this duel would determine the greatest rising star among this year's new recruits to the main road.
To martial artists, for whom honor was paramount, it was no wonder that it was the talk of the day.
On the day of the duel, countless martial artists gathered.
The venue was the very flower garden where Jeong-un had taken his entrance exam.
Members of all stripes from the Heavenly Martial Hall gathered, to the point where the garden, once filled with lush green foliage, now had its impression changed by the spread of black martial robes.
Even three-stripe martial artists, whose faces were rarely seen, were there to spectate.
All of them stared at Jeong-un, sizing him up.
"It feels as if my whole body is being skewered by swords."
Jeong-un realized just how many martial artists the Heavenly Martial Hall had.
Since probably half of them were out on missions, the actual number was likely twice as many as he saw now.
"Young hero Yu."
The one who approached him without hesitation was Murong Cheon of the Black Snake Corps.
They'd exchanged brief words during the entrance exam.
Since then, whenever they passed by each other, Murong Cheon would greet him amicably.
Despite being diligent in his martial training, he had an oddly pure side, making Jeong-un feel a certain harmless fondness toward him.
"It feels like I saw you just recently, but your aura is different already."
"Is it?"
At Murong Cheon's remark, Jeong-un tilted his head.
Different? He had no idea what that could mean.
Every day in training, he was acutely aware of his own shortcomings.
Especially today, seeing the three-stripe warriors for the first time left him awed—they were truly in the realm of top masters.
"They're the same age as me, and yet..."
At most, they looked five years older, maybe seven at a stretch.
Would he become like them if he spent that much time?
It was hard to imagine right now.
"To be frank, it's astounding. I sensed you were gifted that day, but to become the top disciple..."
"I was just lucky,"
Jeong-un replied simply, brushing it aside, but Murong Cheon just smiled, raising his eyebrows.
He must have thought Jeong-un was simply being modest.
"I really was lucky."
Especially during the final test—that stroke he swung, not even realizing he was inside a formation.
If it hadn't been that man from his dream but someone else, could he have cut him down so quickly?
"There's Yong Somaeng over there too."
"...?"
Turning his head, Jeong-un locked eyes with a man watching with an unaffected expression.
The man known as the Wudang's Sword Bearer.
Even now, his aura was so polished he seemed like an unsheathed sword.
If not for Jeong-un, that man would be standing in this place.
As the head disciple of the illustrious Wudang Sect, a representative of the Righteous Faction, he must have trained in martial arts from a very young age.
In some ways, he was Jeong-un's complete opposite.
Even now, Jeong-un couldn't quite believe he'd beaten that man to take first place.
"Young master Jeong-un!"
Then another person came into view beside them.
Tang Yerin was waving brightly with a gleaming smile.
People around her looked on in surprise, but she didn't care one bit.
"..."
After a short hesitation, Jeong-un waved back a little.
Just enough to be polite.
"You look awfully relaxed."
Just then, a slightly amused voice came from ahead.
Before he even turned, Jeong-un knew who it was.
He'd heard that voice before.
'Light-Flowing Sword.'
A swordsman known for sending his sword like a beam of light.
He had taken first place in the regular test, where ten times as many candidates competed as in the special test.
Of course, it was hard to be sure whether ranking reflected true martial ability.
Even for himself, could he truly beat the Wudang's Sword Bearer in a duel?
"Young hero Yu Jeong-un of the Blue Scale Corps,"
Jeong-un bowed deeply to him in greeting.
Light-Flowing Sword approached slowly, then stopped short.
He looked at Jeong-un in surprise for a moment and spoke.
"So that's who you are. We haven't had a proper introduction, have we? Even last time..."
He scratched his cheek, a little embarrassed, recalling then.
"I was rude. Didn't learn manners growing up, so I hope you understand. I'm Cheon Hwi. These days, they call me Light-Flowing Sword."
"I'm not learned either."
"You're humble."
He smiled in a friendly way. Yet Jeong-un felt a strange sense of danger from Cheon Hwi's smiling face.
Though he seemed lighthearted, his aura was so sharp it felt like he'd be cut if he touched it.
Jeong-un found himself staring at him steadily.
"What kind of life has he led?"
It was said a martial artist's blade carried the story of their life.
By crossing swords, you could faintly sense their path.
That long scar descending from his chin to his neck was surely not for nothing.
"And what about me?"
Jeong-un simply wanted to watch the sword this man would unleash.
His heart raced at what he might see and learn.
But he hadn't thought about what he himself would show his opponent.
After all, his opponent would witness him through his sword as well.
Realizing that, he naturally tensed.
"... At the very least, I shouldn't be ashamed."
With that, his energy surged.
In an instant, true ki coursed along his meridians and reflected upon itself within his body.
He felt in optimal condition for swordplay—an effect of One Illumination Movement Technique.
"Heh..."
Perhaps sensing something, Cheon Hwi let out a dry chuckle.
He stared at Jeong-un with curious eyes, then quietly placed a hand on his sword guard.
"..."
A hush fell over the surroundings.
The martial artists encircling them fell silent.
"I'll let you have the first move."
"Then I won't refuse."
Cheon Hwi smiled and nodded at Jeong-un's reply.
Usually, in a duel, the higher-skilled one offered the first move.
Yet Jeong-un's words weren't meant as a provocation.
He simply wanted to watch.
It would be an extraordinary experience to face the very first move of a man famed for his swift sword.
Cheon Hwi didn't seem to mind either.
Click.
A sharp flick of his finger echoed.
At that moment, rather than Cheon Hwi's hand, Jeong-un watched his feet.
He saw Cheon Hwi's heel slowly lift from the ground.
'He's coming.'
The very next instant—
Cheon Hwi was already filling his vision.
'Now.'
The true ki in his body condensed and drew itself into his hand gripping the sword guard.
Now, the gathering of energy was natural.
He drew his sword and swung with all his might.
Chuuuung—!
A crash so thunderous, it barely sounded like swords meeting, erupted.
Both blades rang, as if resisting the notion that either had failed to cut the other.
'... I didn't even swing properly.'
Jeong-un looked at his opponent in surprise. Much faster than he'd thought.
He'd certainly seen the sword move with his eyes.
A strike so fast, the reputation for being a man of the transcendent sword speed was well-deserved.
On top of that, there was more than ten paces between them, yet even then he perceived it.
He'd truly seen it with his eyes.
That's why he could parry the thrusting sword.
But that's all it was.
'Good thing this is a duel.'
It was only thanks to their head-on confrontation that he'd been able to see that first move.
If it had been a real fight—and from the side or behind—he probably wouldn't have stood a chance.
"What is this...?"
Cheon Hwi, too, looked surprised.
His hand gripping the sword guard spasmed; his fingers flexed.
Then, with a blank face, he asked Jeong-un,
"What is in your body?"
"...?"
Jeong-un tilted his head, not understanding.
Then, silently, he returned to his ready stance. This was still a duel.
There was no time for idle chatter.
Cheon Hwi, apparently not expecting an answer, thrust his sword at Jeong-un.
And once again, he charged in.
Cha-kang! Cha-ang—!
Jeong-un blocked the oncoming blows.
And once more, he realized his opponent was faster than him.
Every sword strike came with astonishing speed.
It was becoming harder and harder to keep up with his eyes alone.
He didn't even want to imagine what it would have been like if he hadn't learned Moonlight Swift Steps.
'There's no gap.'
He now understood why the moniker "Light-Flowing Sword" had been given.
If there was any crack at all, light would seep through. That was Cheon Hwi's sword.
It really was as if light itself curved and flowed through any open gap, always driving Jeong-un into a disadvantageous range.
'I can't let this be a protracted fight.'
Furthermore, Cheon Hwi's ki reserves seemed enormous.
Unlike when their swords first met, Cheon Hwi now appeared relaxed.
A face that said, no matter how many exchanges, it didn't matter to him.
With that unyielding gap between them, he was daring Jeong-un to try and hold out.
'... I have to admit, I'm slower.'
Jeong-un quelled his competitiveness. He gave up on relying on sight for blocking.
Instead, he trusted his senses completely. His daily Moonlight Swift Steps practice paid off.
With Moonlight Swift Steps, he had developed extraordinary awareness of his body's movements.
That had led to a tremendous understanding of his own physique.
That understanding now mapped his opponent's sword trajectory.
'Dodging is easier after all.'
The opponent's sword was swift to a frightening degree. Parrying every swing with his arm was too much.
He realized that following the paths revealed by Moonlight Swift Steps was much easier than direct confrontation.
Hwoong—
The sound of a blade slicing the air now grew more frequent than the sound of swords meeting.
Twisting his torso, a flash crossed his vision as the sword narrowly brushed past his nose.
Whoosh—
A delayed current of air from the blade sent his hair flying.
Sword strokes like streaks of light.
Moments where, had he been grazed, his life would be at risk—repeatedly.
It was a duel, yet it felt like a fight to the death.
Then, Jeong-un noticed something strange.
'Is that even possible?'
If one puts all their ki into a swing, it's naturally hard to immediately swing in the opposite direction.
But Cheon Hwi moved his sword as freely as if he were wielding a brush.
How could that be—
'... He's not putting all his ki into every strike.'
Feints and true swings were mixed in perfectly. Thinking about it, that was only natural.
Because Cheon Hwi's first strike carried such amazing power, Jeong-un had subconsciously assumed every blow would.
But no good sword form works that way.
That's exactly why sword techniques exist.
A sword technique is a calculation of the optimal path to cut down one's opponent.
Swaaaak—
Again, a strip of light brushed past him. Incredibly fast.
The edge of his robe was sliced off.
But that was it. No red line appeared on the robe.
As Jeong-un kept dodging, Cheon Hwi's gaze now began to waver.
Conversely, Jeong-un felt ever calmer. He was at last able to properly observe Cheon Hwi's technique.
'So that's possible, too.'
It was an astoundingly efficient sword.
Sometimes it looked like he was putting real strength into it, but it was only a feint.
But the truly incisive attacks carried proper energy.
The flow of true ki was, at a glance, both simple and perfectly suited to fast swordplay.
A meticulously calculated and refined martial art, designed to cut down the opponent.
A well-honed physique made it all possible.
His opponent truly was a remarkable martial artist.
Then, a thought crossed his mind, almost idly.
'... Can't I do it too?'