Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 138 - The Crooked Path

Chapter 138 – The Crooked Path

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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Edited by Celestial Knight

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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Jang Hwa-rin stared down at the arena with a hardened face.

“Damn it.”

He couldn’t deny the obvious truth.

Mad Dragon was stronger than him. Even that Sleeping Dragon from the south, with his overblown alias, would be an even match if they fought.

He too had been called a genius and pampered within the Mount Hua Sect. Among the second-generation disciples, none surpassed his skill.

In truth, he was confident roughly half of the first-generation disciples were also beneath him.

Mount Hua Sect.

The man hailed as the future Best Sword of Mount Hua was none other than Jang Hwa-rin himself.

‘Are there talents that surpass mine?’

Though Mount Hua was large, having never left it meant he was merely a frog in a big well.

When he looked up at the stands, his eyes caught Fat Fist looking straight at him with a grin.

Jang Hwa-rin was momentarily enraged.

‘How dare he?’

After being trampled so miserably, he dared look straight at him? Despite such shame, humiliation, and near-torture beatings?

And look at that even row of teeth showing in that smile!

‘Didn’t I knock out every single one of them?’

He’d slapped Fat Fist’s cheek with a brutal kick, scattering all his teeth.

So why was that bastard flashing an even more even set of teeth than before? What the hell?

‘Shit, did some divine healer come by?’

Not a divine healer but someone inheriting an even older medical lineage had treated him.

That someone was Mad Dragon… the last person you’d expect to treat people.

Of course, Jang Hwa-rin didn’t know this and was only confused.

He left the arena half-consumed by inner demons.

The last quarterfinal match was between a Zhongnan and Wudang disciple, but he didn’t care to watch.

Even within Shaanxi Province, Zhongnan was overshadowed by Mount Hua. No matter how hard they struggled, how could they beat Wudang, the Mount Tai and North Star of the martial world?

* * *

Jang Hwa-rin holed himself up in the innermost private cottage specially prepared for him within the Mount Hua Sect quarters inside the Martial Alliance.

Be that as it may, he was a martial artist of considerable talent. And talent didn’t mean just natural insight or physique.

Temperament was also talent. Jang Hwa-rin might be violent and cruel, but he also possessed an unyielding tenacity.

‘Analyze and dissect his martial arts. Keep battling him in my mind as I’ve always done.’

The secret visualization training methods passed down by Mount Hua were exceptionally refined. This was why Mount Hua swordsmen showed disproportionate advantages in actual combat relative to their realm.

They even prioritized mental battles through visualization over energy cultivation.

Just hone one sword, and internal energy, the Way, and everything else would follow… that was the belief.

Mount Hua was counted alongside Wudang as the foremost sword sect in jianghu.

In swordsmanship alone, some even said Mount Hua led by half a beat.

A talent discovered by such a Mount Hua.

‘So what if you surpass my talent? Can you surpass me in martial depth? I carry centuries of Mount Hua’s accumulated time on my back.’

Jang Hwa-rin mentally sketched out each technique Ju-seong had displayed at the Ascending Dragon Assembly, conjuring himself countering them.

After going back and forth in his mind for quite a while, his energy sense detected something.

“Mm.”

Dispelling his mental image and looking up, he found sunset already slanting outside.

A familiar voice came from beyond the door.

“Hwa-rin, is that you? I heard you were under house arrest?”

“…Hyeok? When did you get taken off house arrest?”

Jang Hwa-rin responded with a puzzled voice and opened the door. There stood Peng Hyeok, arm splinted.

For the eldest son of the Peng family, he looked utterly shabby.

‘Tsk, what a pathetic sight.’

Jang Hwa-rin sneered inwardly. He had agreed to the plan to rough up that Mad Dragon fellow.

In fact, he’d been the one hiding in the alley that night, leaking his presence to lure Ju-seong out of his inn.

But after wrecking the man’s shoulder, shouldn’t he have won? How humiliating to lose so badly to a one-armed opponent.

Better not to have done anything and fought properly. Either that, or after using tricks, win decisively.

‘Doing things half-assed like that meant getting beaten hard and becoming the laughingstock of the whole town. Is this guy even going to keep his succession now? If not, no point playing with him anymore.’

If there was anything Jang Hwa-rin hated most, it was people not on his level.

Peng Hyeok, now reduced to a disgrace of the Peng family, didn’t match the level of Mount Hua’s greatest talent.

But still, the Peng family was the Peng family. Jang Hwa-rin swallowed the dismissal rising in his throat and asked.

“How’s the injury?”

“Mm… My left arm will be a bit troublesome, but no major problem. I’m right-handed, after all.”

Jang Hwa-rin clicked his tongue silently.

‘No problem my ass.’

That injury would throw off his body’s balance, and the time wasted adapting would leave him falling behind.

While peers his age surged ahead, he’d languish in the rear. Yet he pretended all was well, acting stoic… what a sight.

While Jang Hwa-rin silently tore apart his friend, Peng Hyeok quietly studied Jang Hwa-rin’s face.

‘You never realize how bad you are at hiding expressions.’

Jang Hwa-rin’s eyes and face were alternating between contempt and mockery every moment.

Enduring that to his face was truly an ordeal, but Peng Hyeok didn’t forget why he’d come.

“Here, take this.”

“…What is it?”

“Qi-Dispelling Poison.”

Jang Hwa-rin dropped all pretense and snapped openly, “You! Your clumsy scheme nearly got me dragged into it! And now you want to try that again?”

“So you’d rather lose like this?”

Jang Hwa-rin’s face showed clear derision.

“Do you think I’m like you?”

“…”

“Sure, I might lose. He’s undeniably strong. But I won’t suffer a humiliating defeat like you. I’ll lose without shaming Mount Hua’s name. Because I have the skill for that. Understand?”

Jang Hwa-rin spoke sharply, and Peng Hyeok meekly nodded.

“You’ve been famous for your talent since childhood. But do you know? When we dug into Mad Dragon’s background, turns out he was just an acrobat in a traveling troupe until just five or six years ago. My contacts in the Martial Alliance got that intel.”

“…A performer? Wait, only five or six years?”

Jang Hwa-rin’s face instantly hardened.

He was twenty-six this year, had started learning martial arts at four, and entered Mount Hua Sect at ten.

That was sixteen years of ‘proper’ martial training.

And that guy had only, what?

“Hah…”

While Jang Hwa-rin laughed hollowly, Peng Hyeok extended the pouch again.

“You can test it yourself. This poison is Qi-Dispelling Poison that leaves no internal injury and no trace. It burns away with the internal energy and dissipates.”

Jang Hwa-rin narrowed his eyes at the pouch.

“Looks like it’s meant to be applied to a blade. What about residue on the sword?”

Peng Hyeok nodded as if he’d expected the question.

“I tested it myself by applying it to my blade. When I injected ninth-level energy, it burned away naturally.”

Jang Hwa-rin lifted one corner of his mouth.

“Then seventh-level energy should be plenty for me.”

“Right.”

Peng Hyeok nodded readily.

Jang Hwa-rin wordlessly stared at the pouch in Peng Hyeok’s hand, then reached out and snatched it.

Then turned away, dismissing him without even looking.

“Get home safe.”

“May fortune favor your martial path.”

Peng Hyeok offered a lone salute to his friend who wouldn’t reciprocate, silhouetted against the sunset.

As he left, Peng Hyeok’s face was terrifyingly twisted.

He paused to stare at the setting sun for a long while beyond the horizon.

As dusk darkened, he made a secret vow to the evening sky.

“Someday I’ll kill you, my oh-so-talented friend.”

* * *

In the end, the four semifinalists mostly converged on Seven Sects and Three Families members, as in previous Assemblies.

But whereas before most had been from those factions since the Round of 16, this Assembly had featured quite diverse participants doing well, which was encouraging.

Ju-seong stared at Jang Hwa-rin emerging from the other side.

‘Damn, slick bastard.’

Speaking of Mount Hua’s swordsmanship, they said it was the most beautiful sword dance emerging from the harshest mountain terrain.

Perhaps because of that, Mount Hua swordsmen often had physiques more like dancers than fighters.

Limbs long and elegant, bodies inscribed with Mount Hua martial arts, their silhouettes graceful.

Among them, Jang Hwa-rin was especially marked by these traits, befitting his feminine-sounding name.

Ju-seong kept his gaze fixed on him as he climbed onto the arena.

The gong signaling the start of the match rang.

The moment Jang Hwa-rin drew his sword and took his opening stance, Ju-seong’s nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar scent.

Then he let out a sigh of disbelief.

‘Would you look at this lunatic?’

First they ambushed him at night and wrecked his shoulder, now they were openly using poison on the arena.

‘He’s really committed. This isn’t ordinary poison.’

The scent was faint but spread fast. When he heightened his sense of smell to analyze it, he found it was strongly fire-natured poison.

Since fire flares up and dies easily, the poison likely would burn away cleanly if injected with strong internal energy.

“Sly bastard… Does living that way feel good? Proud of yourself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Saying that, Jang Hwa-rin rushed in to silence Ju-seong.

The Plum Blossom Sword Technique bloomed from the hands of Mount Hua’s foremost talent. The spectators, forgetting his cruelty from before, marveled at the display.

Countless petals filled Ju-seong’s vision.

Evading just the sword wasn’t enough. Each trajectory the sword traced left petal-shaped sword energy fragments lingering in the air.

Scattering to slice Ju-seong’s skin, and through them the sword tip slid in without any force behind it.

As casually as reaching out for a handshake… brazenly, naturally.

‘Not to be underestimated, is he.’

Why bother stooping to such dirty tricks when he was this strong?

Ju-seong decided to deflect the most threatening thrust first.

His gauntleted right hand slid in from the back.

Drawing the Kunlun Iron Claw along the blade face…

-Crackle!

Suddenly tracing a zigzag pattern to violently flick the blade away. Like a convulsing venomous snake.

The sword’s trajectory twisted away just before Ju-seong’s nose.

He had to move before the sword retracted. A swordsman’s distance was farther than a fist-fighter’s.

Step forward, front foot first, then drag the rear foot by pushing off with toes.

His right palm landed on the inside of Jang Hwa-rin’s extended arm.

His left palm clamped onto Jang Hwa-rin’s sword-gripping wrist.

Grappling technique.

Its essence was neutralizing an opponent in close combat where strikes were difficult.

The most representative method was destroying opponent’s joints. Countless forms existed for how to damage which joints.

Fundamentally, if you control two adjacent joints, you can break them.

Ju-seong had seized Jang Hwa-rin’s wrist and elbow.

All that remained was to break them.

But suddenly, Ju-seong hesitated.

‘Isn’t this too easy?’

His opponent was a monster who’d reached the semifinals. One of the very best among the rising generation. Yet why did this feel easier than fighting Cho Yu-gyeong?

At that moment, Jang Hwa-rin’s smile caught his eye.

“Gotcha.”

Jang Hwa-rin casually released his sword.

Then his wrist bent back at a grotesque angle. His index finger hooked on Ju-seong’s hand, and just like that, the grappling hold was released.

It didn’t end there. Jang Hwa-rin caught the dropped sword with his left hand and executed a near-flawless slash even with his off hand.

A simple diagonal upward cut.

-SHING!

A chilling sound as if the air itself was being sliced.

Ju-seong channeled internal energy into his Yongquan pressure points and thrust himself backward using the White Phoenix Nine-Palace technique, but Jang Hwa-rin’s sword was faster.

-SLASH!

The front of his martial robe was sliced open, leaving a shallow wound across his bare chest.

“Damn.”

Ju-seong hissed, and Jang Hwa-rin’s eyes gleamed with joy.

‘Got him!’

The poison was seeping in.