NOVEL NEXT Chapter 982
<982 – Sword Saint (6)>
When Cooking Oknodie received the martial arts scroll, the other Ghost Warlords willingly passed theirs to Jiang and Sing.
“I’ve seen enough of your strength from the sidelines.”
“I may have been momentarily overwhelmed by Sword Master Ryu-wan’s great sword, but I’ve got the skill to win within 150 moves.”
Hearing the Ghost Warlord’s evaluation made Sing’s expression harden.
“Ryu-wan. How many moves did you exchange with Sword Saint Reinhardt?”
“It’s embarrassing to say this, but it was a match where the number of moves didn’t matter. He ‘savored’ my swordsmanship and ended it after blooming transcendency beyond the ultimate. We clashed for 50 moves, but it could have ended at any moment.”
“…!”
Sing realized.
He wasn’t at the level of a principal.
But he was on par with the chairman.
The strength at the chairman level means the strength of Oknodie the Demon King.
It meant he was on equal footing with Oknodie’s transcendent form.
‘The true strength of Oknodie and the strength on par with it. Do I have what it takes to reach that realm?’
No. He was lacking.
Sing felt his limits.
But if there’s still ‘spirit’ and ‘mana’ left to close that gap.
Sing and Jiang were granted a single opportunity to bridge that shortfall.
“We don’t need to rush; time is still on our side. What will you do, Jiang?”
“I don’t want to settle this until I can clear the Ghost Warlord within the next few moves.”
Even if one second was impossible, at least he wanted to elevate to a ten-second level.
That might even be arrogance, but if such a level of arrogance leads to misstep, then Sword Saint Reinhardt would remain an unattainable star in the sky.
“Alright. Then your opponent will be the one with the worst match-up—a disadvantageous enemy to face.”
“Jiang’s assassination techniques. Its weakness naturally lies with the flawless master swordsman Zweiror.”
“Sia’s original swordsmanship. It can be broken even with a great sword, but a more fun way to break it will be up to the illusionary sword Roseblim.”
The master swordsman Zweiror.
In front of Cooking Oknodie, he was just an old man who belonged in a nursing home, chomping on sweets, but with a sword in hand, not a single gap was visible.
To be exact, there were areas presumed to be gaps, but all those would flip into weaknesses in a few moves, and before long, attacking Jiang would find himself at a disadvantage.
Created gaps.
As he was aiming for an appropriate opening, ten moves flew by.
“Looks like the ten-second level is a failure. Will you try again?”
“…One more move, please.”
“Not ten moves? Ha ha. Just joking. If you’re relaxed, feel free to step in anytime.”
Jiang realized he shouldn’t aim for the best opening.
As an assassin, he could do that.
He could await the perfect single opportunity.
Against Sword Saint Reinhardt?
That perfect single opportunity couldn’t exist.
No gaps?
The gaps were fake?
So what?
If Reinhardt fought seriously, every move would be a deadly strike, a killing blow.
‘Gaps aren’t something you wait for. You have to create them!’
The experience he built up alongside Oknodie made Jiang more aggressive.
This time, he charged into a feigned gap, unleashing a fierce assault right from the start.
Amid the flurry of lightning-fast strikes, his occasional assassination techniques tested Zweiror, but he responded adeptly without a hint of agitation.
‘Strong. Just like Oknodie’s Butler Jonnas!’
The assertion that the swordsmanship world has regressed at least several decades since the arrival of Sword Saint Reinhardt was no mere exaggeration.
Sword Master Ryu-wan had perished as part of Reinhardt’s Tomb of the Sword, but other swordsmen were different.
More than half were losers whose honor was buried by the single hand of Sword Saint Reinhardt.
‘But Cooking Oknodie has made it. Against a being of equal strength like Sword Master Ryu-wan!’
Whether that genius belonged to Cooking Oknodie or Oknodie itself didn’t matter.
With a body incapable of comparing to Oknodie, it was Cooking Oknodie’s strength to manifest that talent by accumulating collection and functional experience points.
‘I can’t lose to a little brat who’s just barely over a year into swordsmanship!’
Jiang’s sword did not harbor spirit.
The real battle to overcome lay not here, but beyond it.
Because it was Sword Saint Reinhardt.
So Jiang intentionally suppressed all his energy.
He suppressed his own fighting spirit, his killing intent.
“…”
Master swordsman Zweiror.
Tension flickered across his face.
He sensed that this battle was different from the previous ones.
Even when it was right in front of him, he couldn’t see it.
Even though it existed, it felt as if it didn’t.
A strange discomfort that he couldn’t even feel against the same Ghost Warlord.
‘Am I about to kill him? Even with nature mana?!’
In the world of masters, there are times when the body judges and moves before the mind does.
Reflex.
In situations like this, the body moves to sense and block or counterattack through the subtle movements of muscles and changes in air.
‘Is it too late?!’
Against Jiang, his body didn’t respond.
By the time he realized the unease was nearing, it was already too late to react using reflexes.
He had to judge with his mind against this foe.
The reverse manifestation of domain representation.
A truly undetectable assassination domain unfurled with the long sword.
“!!”
He thought he had reacted.
But the blocked sword was an empty blow.
Jiang held infinite choices.
A sword he couldn’t perceive.
A sword he couldn’t block even if he saw it.
A sword where he couldn’t respond with his body.
Thus, the ultimate form of frontal assassination was made possible.
“You’ve come forth. To the realm of transcendence. That blow was undoubtedly a strike beyond measure.”
He had claimed he would challenge the ten-second level, but he had only managed to sever a tendon in one arm with a single blow.
“No. Senior didn’t fall with that strike; he minimized the damage with one arm. The battle isn’t over yet. If it’s Reinhardt, it’ll surely be like that.”
Jiang, who had reached the best strike he could deliver, understood.
For Reinhardt, even with that blow, he wouldn’t lose his will or be incapacitated.
“Then shall I continue this meaningless squabble?”
The master swordsman endured eight more thrusts of the longsword.
A success in achieving the goal of the ten-second level.
“Sia, my older sister…”
“Still ongoing.”
Despite being the lady who casually enjoyed pudding like a treat at the ritual table, unlike her perception, the sword of the illusionary sword Roseblim was unimpeded.
Sing’s specialization, healing utilizing her original domain, was suffocated under the weight of the great sword of Sword Master Ryu-wan.
Roseblim negated the aggressive division attack as it faced numerous illusionary swords with an uncountable number of simultaneous techniques.
While Ryu-wan broke through on offense, Roseblim broke through on defense.
Knowing Sing could use a single strike and break it into numerous strikes, it was evident.
This illusionary sword was derived from the ‘same understanding’ as hers.
However, the time they dedicated to training was different.
Hundreds of years.
The illusionary swords, built upon unquantifiable efforts, carried different weights and forms of the sword in every illusion.
Some swords retained only light remnants of power, as light as a feather, while others bore strength so strong it made the metal respond.
In the midst of that countless clash, the outcome would change depending on whose sword could break through whose strikes.
Sing’s downpour of sword strikes.
The torrential sword strikes, pouring like a deluge, twisted and intertwined like petals of a rose, scattering amidst a swirling display of swordsmanship.
Blood, slick.
The clothes cut by the sword left shallow lines of red.
From one to three, from ten to twenty-seven.
The scary speed of expansion of wounds had come to a stop.
“Ten seconds ended.”
“…What a fearsome swordsmanship.”
“It’s a sword dedicated to a life whereby I have never tasted luxurious foods like pudding. A swordswoman who has poured her life into her craft, combining the experiences of the spirits. Can you truly break this within ten seconds?”
As things stood, Roseblim was not the target of Sing’s ten-second level.
Conversely, Sing had become the target of Roseblim’s ten-second level.
“Next will be different.”
In Sing’s eyes appeared not a vindictive fire but a harsh judgment.
“Hmph… Daring enough. That glare— I want to break it. You see, roses have thorns. If you grab it carelessly, blood will flow from your hands. You’re going to be covered in it.”
Her recovery capability, which wasn’t limited to her sword, instantly mended the bloodlines etched into her body.
Yet, her clothes remained unrepaired.
The cut-up cheongsam dress that had holes everywhere was in peril in many aspects, but Sing felt no shame.
Re-observation.
One single thrust evolved into countless strikes, reshaping the sword’s might.
Like countless stars following a shining star and forming a constellation, Roseblim’s rose and Sing’s deluge once again collided.
‘Below expectations.’
Roseblim felt disappointed.
Sing’s sword had been broken again.
In the end, was it merely the young one’s empty bravado and spirit?
“?!”
It was a sorry thing to treat a girl unfairly, slashing her repeatedly with a sword.
Her eyes widened, determined to definitely finish it with the next step.
The odds of the divided sword strokes were 80%.
Roseblim’s illusionary sword read all the divided powers that Sing had through her original domain.
With a strong strike, she paired it with a weaker one, while a slightly stronger strike was paired with the weak ones.
The remaining 20%, in the tempest of the incoming blows, could only flicker away uselessly as nothing more than phantoms.
However, that phantom did not vanish.
It delved along the texture of the rose, diving straight through to the inside.
Pouring rain.
The swords twisted in conflict.
The power of the incoming sword strikes intensified.
As if it had aimed for this path from the start.
‘You read that from just one clash? My illusionary sword’s intended move?’
Sing’s awakening was just like Jiang’s.
Countless insights on martial peaks.
A realization ready to burst at any moment became embodied.
Sing gained swift sword strikes and healing.
Together, the melded combat intelligence.
Reading moves, dividing sword arts, and regulating sword power.
Many swords contributed to her enlightenment, but the keystone in consciousness lay within the clash of Oknodie the Demon King and the chairman.
‘I too wanted to acquire that. The absolute strength to overwhelm a great army by myself.’
A fight where transcendent beings swept across the battlefield like a one-person legion.
While lacking talents in summoning arts, she possessed swordsmanship that was sturdier than any summoned spirit and followed her will.
The precision of the original domain.
At the moment she achieved that, Sing was able to infuse every divided sword strike with its unique original domain.
That original point would target Roseblim, and with control over its path and angle, piercing the sword’s weaknesses to inflict maximum damage with minimal clashes became possible.
Thump.
A scar was etched upon Roseblim’s spirit body.
Unlike Sing, who only received shallow scratches, it was a wound of irretrievable magnitude.
As the spirit state unraveled, Roseblim was forcibly sent back to the tomb.
“Good job. That sword. A woman ought to be able to conceal such sharp daggers.”
Acknowledged for reaching the same level as Cooking Oknodie, joy uncontrollably spread across Sing’s face.
“Roseblim. ‘Older sister’ was also a beautiful sword.”
There surely appeared a smile on the face of the scattering Roseblim.
Gathering the martial arts scroll that had remained in the air with delicate strokes of her sword, Sing finally brought together three scrolls.
The remaining Ghost Warlords imbued the martial arts scroll they held with the morale of the dead.
“Your spirits must be preserved for the final battle. The path shall be paved by us.”
The martial arts scroll rose into the air, pointing somewhere as it floated gently.
The three did their best to calm their fluttering hearts as they followed the martial arts scroll and the Ghost Warlords.