Pay‑to‑Win King of Martial Arts (Novel) - Chapter 120 - When the Forest Grows Dense, Tigers Enter (5)

Chapter 120 – When the Forest Grows Dense, Tigers Enter (5)

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Translated by Heavenly Cat

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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With arms folded, Yeom Baek-gyu watched Muk Hui-yeong. He had no idea what the man meant by saying he’d win and then repay him, but in any case, he lent him the full ten thousand taels of silver.

What was in that pouch were two hundred sycee ingots. If anything, it looked heavy enough to get in the way of a fight, so he couldn’t understand why anyone would borrow it right before fighting.

To the black-path men and merchants, who had now become spectators, it was a bizarre sight as well. Somehow, even though he was about to fight the Fighting Exalt, one of the Eight Exalts, he showed not the slightest tension.

If anything, the sight of him grunting as he tried to cram the pouch full of sycee into his robes looked so ridiculous it bordered on mocking Jang Gwang-yeong himself.

“Just a moment. Let me put this away first.”

“Do you think just because you put that away, my fist won’t reach you?”

Jang Gwang-yeong looked at Muk Hui-yeong as though he were absurd. This wasn’t some alleyway thug brawl, so what sort of fool thought stuffing something over his belly would help?

Of course, that sort of trick wouldn’t work not only against one of the Eight Exalts, but even against an ordinary first-rate expert.

After finally stuffing the sycee into his robes, Muk Hui-yeong stared blankly up at the sky for a moment. His gaze was clear enough to show he was definitely looking at something.

“Would you rather have your throat torn out than your tongue?”

“Really, just a moment. Sorry.”

Muk Hui-yeong kept rolling his eyes up and down. Since there was nothing to see, the motion itself looked bizarre.

And then, a moment later, his expression brightened and he muttered something.

“Shall we begin?”

“Yes. Please do.”

“Since I’m a junior so far beneath you, you’ll yield me about three moves, right?”

“Heh heh. That’s the sort of thing only orthodox fools do. Still, I’ll indulge your antics a little. Let’s see just how much talent you think you have, talking about it in front of me.”

For someone on the level of one of the Eight Exalts, being called the strongest talent of the age was only natural. Even Yeom Baek-gyu thought it was overreaching for Muk Hui-yeong to bring up talent in front of him. And everyone else thought the same.

That was until Muk Hui-yeong moved. In this place, the only ones whose eyes could follow Muk Hui-yeong’s movement were Jang Gwang-yeong and Yeom Baek-gyu.

The same gleam flashed in both of their eyes.

“Interesting.”

The corner of Jang Gwang-yeong’s mouth lifted. Before anyone knew it, Muk Hui-yeong had already closed the distance and was swinging his sword at Jang Gwang-yeong.

The sharp blade aimed to cut across Jang Gwang-yeong’s chest. Jang Gwang-yeong received that gale-fast sword barehanded, without even wearing armored gauntlets.

Naturally, not even a scratch appeared on Jang Gwang-yeong’s hand. The reason was that the blue light wrapped around his hand had blocked Muk Hui-yeong’s sword.

“Protective aura!”

People began to murmur. Protective aura was the very symbol of a master in the Transformation Realm. Considering that there were not even three hundred masters of the Transformation Realm in the entire jianghu, they were witnessing something exceedingly rare.

“Show me more!”

Jang Gwang-yeong shouted. Even his voice contained internal energy, enough that ordinary people had to cover their ears.

Mist rose from Muk Hui-yeong’s sword. Even Jang Gwang-yeong, who had been full of momentum, couldn’t help but be startled at that.

“The Flowing Cloud Sword Art?”

It wasn’t only Jang Gwang-yeong who was startled. Everyone was.

The result of the clash between the Zhuge Clan and Wudang was already known in the jianghu, but naturally, no one knew the details. Which meant no one could know that Muk Hui-yeong had been taught the Flowing Cloud Sword Art. This was the first time Muk Hui-yeong had displayed it in the jianghu.

“A main-mountain disciple of Wudang?”

Naturally, people could only jump to that mistaken conclusion at first.

But in his earlier exchange with Jang Gwang-yeong, Muk Hui-yeong had openly stated that he was a lay disciple.

No matter how one looked at it, it was enough of a story to seize the attention of gossip-hunters. Either it was a main-mountain disciple of Wudang hiding his identity and coming to the black market, or else he was really a lay disciple and yet used the Flowing Cloud Sword Art.

“You bastard, did you deceive me?”

It wasn’t unreasonable for Jang Gwang-yeong to say that.

The spiritual qi from the Supreme Clarity Pill and the Flowing Cloud Sword Art that Muk Hui-yeong was displaying now were enough to make him a worthy main-mountain disciple of Wudang. No, more than worthy. In Jang Gwang-yeong’s judgment, it was enough to let the man speak of his talent. But as he had said, Jang Gwang-yeong had no intention of acknowledging it.

“Not at all. You can ask at Wudang’s main mountain later if you wish.”

“How am I to know whether that’s not just a lie you’re telling to save face right now?”

“By the name of Immortal San-bong, it is not.”

Once he had invoked Zhang Sanfeng, the founding patriarch of Wudang, Jang Gwang-yeong could no longer keep doubting him.

Instead, once the suspicion faded, a question settled into its place.

“But a lay disciple using the Flowing Cloud Sword Art?”

“I’m a bit special, you see. Didn’t I tell you? I have talent. Wudang recognized that too.”

“Then why didn’t they bring you in as a main-mountain disciple?”

“Because I refused.”

“How could that possibly make sen…?”

Jang Gwang-yeong stopped mid-sentence. Suddenly, he’d remembered a fact he’d forgotten.

“But the lay disciples of the Nine Great Sects usually enter around the age of twenty, don’t they?”

“That’s right. I entered at twenty. Two years have passed since then.”

“Two years?”

Jang Gwang-yeong let out a dry laugh. Internal energy, perhaps. That could happen. If one came from a wealthy house that fed spiritual medicines from childhood, it was possible.

But when one considered the way he handled internal energy and his skill in unfolding sword forms, it was an absurd thing to hear.

Jang Gwang-yeong violently swung his arm. Muk Hui-yeong blocked with his sword, but he was blasted backward like a cannonball. Only after rolling several times could he get back to his feet.

“You, I see it now. You’ve been toying with this old man.”

“Not at all.”

“At least make your lies plausible. With lies like that, you’ve got a madness of your own.”

“Then are you acknowledging that it’s talent beyond belief?”

“Shut up! Such absurd nonsense!”

“You’d really lose your mind if I told you I didn’t know martial arts at all before becoming a lay disciple.”

“This is getting more ridiculous by the moment. It would be more believable to tell me a tiger laid an egg. Where in the world do you learn to tell lies like that?”

Jang Gwang-yeong was angry now. He was tired of indulging such absurd deception.

Blue light swirled around both of Jang Gwang-yeong’s palms. The energy condensed into his palms, then exploded. Along with that, a violent gale shot toward Muk Hui-yeong.

Even first-rate masters could use palm wind, but the density of Jang Gwang-yeong’s palm wind was on a different level. The principle of palm wind lay in condensing qi while drawing in even the surrounding air. Naturally, the better one was at handling qi, the stronger it became.

“Hup!”

Muk Hui-yeong noticed the immense force contained in that palm wind too. Then again, with it splitting the air and overturning the ground so blatantly, not noticing would have been stranger.

And yet, Muk Hui-yeong advanced instead. That palm wind didn’t contain merely physical force. Since it was condensed qi fired out directly, it also held the subtle principle of force emission.

If he collided with it head-on like that, he’d suffer internal injuries. For a moment, Jang Gwang-yeong even wondered if he should have weakened the palm wind. Killing a disciple of Wudang would become troublesome for him.

And then came the instant when Muk Hui-yeong’s sword met Jang Gwang-yeong’s palm wind.

Normally, the instant they collided there should have been a tremendous boom and Muk Hui-yeong should have been hurled backward.

But there was no boom. Instead, there came only a whipping sound, like a lash splitting the air. The sound was distinct, like a white flash visible in the middle of the night.

Jang Gwang-yeong’s eyes flew wide. It was his own palm wind, even if he hadn’t used full strength. And yet that very palm wind was being sliced into at least a hundred streams. The speed was enough to astonish anyone.

Even Myeong-il, whose expression seldom changed, stood there with his mouth open. He knew Muk Hui-yeong was fast, but this was the first time he’d seen him swing a blade so fast it couldn’t be seen at all.

Whiiiiing!

The remnants of the split palm wind spread in all directions and stirred up a tremendous gale. It was strong enough to seize dust from the ground and whip it upward. Soil and dust immediately rose and filled the air in a thick haze.

Of course, none of that hindered Jang Gwang-yeong in the slightest from looking at Muk Hui-yeong.

“Heh, heh heh…”

At last, even Jang Gwang-yeong burst out laughing. It was simply absurd.

Those were movements and a swift sword of unbelievable speed. If someone of that age possessed skill like that, then it would have been a disgrace to call it a lie. With his outstanding skill alone, he could have won recognition from anyone.

‘Could it be…?’

Only then did the possibility begin to surface in Jang Gwang-yeong’s mind that Muk Hui-yeong’s words might actually be true. It was an option he had not considered at all until now.

“Ah, my arm feels like it’s about to burst.”

Meanwhile, unaware of what Jang Gwang-yeong was thinking, Muk Hui-yeong was busy shaking his arm. Since he’d used too many muscles in an instant, the arm hidden beneath his sleeve looked swollen.

Everyone stared blankly at this unbelievable scene. A youth barely in his prime had just cut straight through an attack from the Fighting Exalt himself.

Everyone present knew the Fighting Exalt had not used his full power. Even so, it was more than enough to astonish them that Muk Hui-yeong hadn’t merely dodged or diverted it, but had cut it apart head-on.

“You. Let me ask again.”

Jang Gwang-yeong opened his mouth in a low voice.

“Yes. Go ahead.”

“Are you really saying it’s been only two years since you began learning martial arts?”

“Yes.”

“And if that’s not true, even if your mother were a courtesan and your father her pimp?”

Muk Hui-yeong frowned.

Among the orthodox sects, the way one tested the truth was by asking whether a man would swear by his master or his sect. Among the unorthodox path, it was by dragging in a man’s parents.

“Of course.”

“Even so, I still can’t believe it.”

“What is this? First you make me swear on my parents, and now this?”

Jang Gwang-yeong felt awkward. It truly did feel as though he had spoken twice with one mouth in front of a junior far younger than himself. Even so, the story was still impossible to believe.

“It’s true.”

At that moment, a small child who had been watching from afar shouted it out. Needless to say, it was Myeong-il.

As expected of one of the foremost three-generation disciples, Myeong-il moved with great speed. In an instant, he stepped in front of Jang Gwang-yeong and showed him a wooden token engraved with the Taiji symbol.

“You won’t say you don’t know what this is.”

Those far away couldn’t see what the little hand held, but Jang Gwang-yeong, who stood right in front of him, saw it clearly.

It was none other than the token of Wudang’s ox-nosed Daoists. The same token Muk Hui-yeong had once held as a provisional main-mountain disciple and returned when he became a lay disciple.

“…A main-mountain disciple?”

“I’m Myeong-il, a third-generation disciple of the Myeong generation. Immortal Cheong-ui is my master.”

“Huh.”

Jang Gwang-yeong looked at Myeong-il. He was only a child, yet the clear eyes that stared back at him held not a shred of fear or hesitation.

That wooden token too was certainly a token of Wudang. And a main-mountain disciple would sooner reveal his master than lie about him, so the claim that his master was Cheong-ui must have been genuine as well.

The moment he heard that Myeong-il was the disciple of the Taiji Sword Emperor, one of those tacitly ranked above even the Eight Exalts, even Jang Gwang-yeong had no choice but to rein in his momentum a little.

“Then are you saying all that absurd nonsense he was spouting is really true?”

Jang Gwang-yeong asked. Here, the fact that Myeong-il was Cheong-ui’s disciple was not the important thing.

What mattered was whether the absurd things Muk Hui-yeong had said were lies or not. But Myeong-il answered without the slightest hesitation.

“Yes. It’s been two years since he entered as a lay disciple, and it’s true that before that he hadn’t learned martial arts. It’s also true that they tried to make him a main-mountain disciple and he refused.”

“…H-heh heh heh. Heh heh heh…”

A child who had the Taiji Sword Emperor as his master would not tell such a petty lie in a place like this. A disciple was a mirror to his master.

Jang Gwang-yeong’s laughter abruptly stopped. Ever since Myeong-il had confirmed that it wasn’t a lie, the fellow called Muk Hui-yeong, who stood over there looking completely at ease, suddenly seemed different to him.

“You. Did you say you’re a lay disciple of Wudang?”

“Yes.”

“And yet, judging by the fact that you learned the Flowing Cloud Sword Art, you must have another master, don’t you?”

“Immortal Cheong-hwa is my master’s Daoist title.”

“The disciple of the Taiji Sword Emperor, and now the disciple of the Boundless Divine Sword as well. Wudang’s treasures, both of you.”

Jang Gwang-yeong glanced sidelong at Muk Hui-yeong.

“Though one of them is closer to a ghostly aberration than a treasure.”

“I’ll take that as praise.”

“Good. It is praise.”

Unexpectedly, once Jang Gwang-yeong acknowledged it, even Muk Hui-yeong found himself momentarily out of words. Jang Gwang-yeong looked him up and down.

“You’re a strange one. You don’t particularly look born with martial bones, so just how extraordinary is your comprehension?”

“A truly rich man never knows exactly how much he has.”

“You really are full of shit.”

“Is that praise too?”

“No. This one really was just full of shit.”

Muk Hui-yeong scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

Jang Gwang-yeong shook his head.

“No need to see any more.”

“Have you recognized my talent?”

“Set that aside for the moment. Let me ask you something first.”

“What is it?”

“If you’re a lay disciple, then it wouldn’t matter if you took another master too, would it?”

At Jang Gwang-yeong’s words, everyone was horrified. There wasn’t a single person present who couldn’t understand what he meant by that.