The Reformed Genius of the Sichuan Tang Clan - Chapter 38

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 38
Jeom Chang’s Saire Sword Technique and the Dang Clan’s Cishin Sword Aura.
Save for the fact that both were sword arts centered on thrusting, they shared nothing in common.
The Saire Sword Technique could only be perfected by one who had glimpsed the Way, pushing sensation and speed to their absolute limits.
The Cishin Sword Aura was a swift and deadly stroke designed to claim victory by targeting the opponent’s heart in combat.
Except for a narrow intersection, it was hardly an exaggeration to say they occupied opposite poles.
‘And yet he deceived us with it?’
Dang Youxuan furrowed his brow, pressing down on the inner edge of his eyebrow.
‘If it’s a thrust… then Hou Yi Shooting the Sun would be the likeliest candidate.’
The Saire Sword Technique—Hou Yi Shooting the Sun.
A fatal blow that descended before reaction was possible, like an arrow felling the sun itself; a force that shattered all defense.
It was the very technique that birthed the phrase: “When the Swordmaster Seo Jonghol appears, the battle ends.”
Swift as lightning yet weighted with such crushing power that it settled any enemy in a heartbeat.
Yet Hou Yi Shooting the Sun consumed vast reserves of Internal Energy and was heavily dependent on the caster’s physical state and Internal Energy reserves, meaning it could never maintain the same devastating force indefinitely.
In other words, something like “piercing every foe’s heart with identical, precise wounds” was impossible.
If it were possible, the Swordmaster would have to possess an immortal body and boundless Internal Energy—or be a god.
What mere human could possess such power?
But the Cishin Sword Aura made it possible.
And Poison Master Dang Hyun-chul made it possible.
Unlike Hou Yi Shooting the Sun, which concentrated all force into a single, cataclysmic blow, the Cishin Sword Aura aimed for swift and efficient strikes.
A technique that spared the caster’s burden while striking fast and true at vital points.
And in the hands of one who had reached a superhuman realm—the greatest martial master under heaven—such a thing was no mere fancy.
‘But there is no way to prove it.’
By now, the dead from that day would have been absorbed into soil, leaving only bone to decay.
The Cishin Sword Aura slipped the blade between those bones to pierce the heart, so even if one found the remains, there would be no evidence.
And though the mind could grasp the theory, perfect recreation was impossible.
The spirit was Dang Hyun-chul’s, but the body was Dang Youxuan’s.
‘But that does not mean I cannot approximate it.’
He understood perfection was beyond reach.
Though his understanding was subtly different, lending his own interpretation to both techniques, he could still bridge the gap between Hou Yi Shooting the Sun and the Cishin Sword Aura.
He had trained without rest or respite to reach this very height.
Dang Youxuan aligned his sword and arm in a straight line, taking his stance.
“Bring the body up.”
At his command, Dang Yongmyung and Dang Sanho seized the corpse’s arms and hauled it to its feet.
Soft scraping sound.
Dang Youxuan drew his right foot back, brushing the earth away with his toes.
There was a time when he had many close friends.
Whenever they had no pressing business, he and his companions would pass the hours testing their martial prowess against one another.
Others would sometimes join in, and one of them was Seo Jonghol.
‘A sword art pursued in search of the deeper Way, and now it serves this purpose.’
Dang Youxuan swallowed the bitter taste that coated his mouth and recalled the insight Seo Jonghol had taught him.
Shooting the Sun.
Literally, to shoot down the sun.
Was such a thing ever easy?
No. Was it even possible to begin with?
And yet someone dared challenge the impossible.
The Saire Sword Technique held within it all the awe of that impossibility and the striving that came before it.
‘If one wishes to shoot down the sun, one must be prepared to burn.’
Dang Youxuan slowly drew his sword-bearing hand back, then traced two fingers across the blade’s flat.
Whoooooosh!
Following the path of his fingers, a tremendous surge of Internal Energy compressed and flowed into the sword.
Wuuuuuung!
The blade, now charged with Internal Energy, resonated with a vibrant hum.
Crack!
Dang Youxuan launched himself forward, driving hard off his rear leg.
The sun that the founder of the Saire Sword Technique sought to shoot hung in the heavens, high above.
But our sun does not hang there.
It stands before us on this same earth, braced on two legs—in the left chest of the one who faces us.
So one has only to strike with all one’s might in a single thrust.
Shhhhwaaaack!
A blade gleaming with lethal sharpness pierced straight through the corpse’s heart.
The energy refined.
The sword path clean.
The strike precise.
“This is the Saire Sword Technique.”
“……!”
If not for the grave, mature voice that belied his years, one might have thought time itself had stopped.
All who witnessed Dang Youxuan’s swordwork were seized by shock so profound they could not shake free.
When had he learned the Saire Sword Technique, spoken of as Jeom Chang’s supreme art? How had a man whose martial prowess was merely adequate managed to manifest it, despite his keen intellect?
There were so many questions.
Yet none could find voice.
Dang Youxuan glanced around at them all, shook the blood from his blade, and gestured with his chin.
“Bring the next one at once.”
“Ah, yes!”
Another corpse was positioned before him.
This time Dang Youxuan lowered his stance and gripped the sword lightly.
The Cishin Sword Aura does not pursue grand teachings.
There is no need for the discipline of tempering pure energy while enduring cascades from cliffs.
But to guard myself, and to protect what is precious, the aim is to kill swiftly and with certainty.
Whoooooom!
The blade sang again as energy flowed into it.
Where before he had compressed explosive force into the steel, now he drew the energy thin as silk and wrapped it around the blade’s edge.
A technique practiced ten thousand times, unfolded ten thousand more.
Even in this weakened body, there was no reason he could not manifest it.
‘I have already shown enough with this form to grow weary of it.’
Dang Youxuan recalled the bewildering lesson at Yeonhak Pavilion and let a smile slip.
Soon the smile faded, and his expression grew grave.
What method could a martial master, inferior to none in speed or internal energy, employ to protect himself while swiftly and precisely killing his opponent?
Remove the excess.
Thus the Cishin Sword Aura was born.
Dang Youxuan recalled his past insights and rolled his foot forward as he drew the blade.
The push from the earth comes swift on a single leg.
No need to threaten the surroundings as a precaution.
Focus only on one target.
Extend.
Slash!
Not even the common sound of air splitting followed.
Rather, it was that quiet.
At the speed of light, in profound silence, the heart was pierced through.
“And this is the Cishin Sword Aura.”
While all stood speechless in amazement, Dang Youxuan retrieved his blade and shook it clean.
“Dang Sanho.”
“Yes?”
“Examine them closely and compare.”
“Understood.”
Dang Sanho immediately set about searching through the corpse, inspecting the wound.
The same wound, in the same place, the same size.
Dang Youxuan already knew the answer, but he chose not to speak it.
‘It means nothing unless they see it themselves.’
In the silence that followed, Dang Roe asked carefully.
“Forgive me, Lord. When did you learn these two techniques?”
It was the question he had anticipated.
Dang Youxuan answered in deliberately casual tones.
“In my travels, I encountered quite a few masters from Jeom Chang. I happened to watch one demonstrating with considerable pride.”
“Just from watching once……!?”
“Yes.”
“Did he show you many times? No, that can’t be right—it shouldn’t have been possible?”
“Once.”
What Dang Youxuan spoke of was before the Great Demon War, while what they imagined was his reckless youth.
The difference in timing aside, it was all the truth—let them think what they would.
I deliberately lured them into it, yes.
“No…… how…….”
“Hah. Wow…….”
Dang Roe, whose eyes had gone wide with the question, let out a helpless breath.
Dang Yongmyung started to protest, but reading the look in Dang Youxuan’s eyes—’Is this really so difficult?’—he closed his mouth.
Even Dang Jongcheon, who had seemed to have no presence at all, wore an expression of shock.
It was the reaction of someone who had just grasped that ordinary people cannot reason with genius that transcends mortal measure.
“Hmm?”
In that instant of curiosity about the cause, Dang Sanho, who had been studying the wound site intently, turned to them with a loud exclamation.
“Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh?”
“What. Why. What. What is it.”
Dang Yongmyung, startled, asked urgently.
“……The wounds are different.”
“What!?”
“How are they different?”
Dang Sanho answered, looking back and forth between the two corpses like a man whose soul had fled his body.
“The first one has a jagged wound where flesh was torn and scattered, while the second is clean.”
“You’re seeing it correctly.”
Dang Sanho was right.
One Strike Fatal Kill versus efficiency—what one pursues influences the scar left behind.
Dang Youxuan had waited for his descendants to grasp this themselves.
“But if that’s the case, the ‘identical wounds’ mentioned in the testimony becomes impossible. Which means it couldn’t have been done by our techniques, but by Jeom Chang’s sword art.”
“Why?”
“How could you pour such devastating power into a single strike and maintain it every time?”
“Right.”
Dang Youxuan walked to the side of the corpse and asked quietly.
“Do you understand the difference now?”
“Yes! We do!”
Dang Yongmyung answered vigorously, his eyes shining bright.
“This could work…… this could really work!”
“Sob, sob. Ancestors, we’ve finally done it. Lord of Poison…… sob, sob, sob.”
The group, overcome with the emotion of having found hope, embraced one another and wept, calling out to their forebears.
Even Dang Sanho, whose tone had remained playful throughout with no hint of sincerity, let tears roll down his cheeks.
Only Dang Youxuan’s eyes, standing a single step apart, had grown cold and distant.
Look at these fools. They’re missing something.
“Nothing’s settled yet.”
As if a fifteen-year-old would find a loophole like that—highly credible.
You didn’t believe it yourselves at first.
But he couldn’t say that outright, so he pulled out a reasonable excuse.
“There’s no record of what the wounds looked like at the time. How will you prove it?”
“Ah…….”
The buoyant atmosphere collapsed in an instant.
He wanted to argue why he was being so demanding, but Dang Youxuan was right.
Unless they produced irrefutable, concrete evidence, Jeom Chang would never bend their claims.
‘Damn it, what do we do…….’
Dang Roe, the oldest and highest-ranking among them, clenched his teeth.
At that moment, someone vaulted over a fence that reached their waist and came running toward them.
“Lord of Poison……! Lord of Poison……!”
An old alias.
At hearing that title—one that should never have been spoken by this body—Dang Youxuan turned, gripping the Hidden Blade concealed in his sleeve.
He was no longer the Lord of Poison.
He had already died, and what breathed upon this earth now was Dang Youxuan.
So much time had passed, so much had changed and been forgotten, that he believed the old name could never be called again.
Yet who was summoning him by that ancient epithet?
Ting-a-ling—
The ornaments hanging from the hem of the cloth covering her head struck one another with a clear, bright chime.
When Dang Youxuan saw the pink ribbon—too small to belong to an elderly person with silver hair, too befitting a child—his eyes widened.
How could he not know it?
When he had been dispatched to Yunnan as a member of the strike force, he had given it to a weeping girl in a village laid waste to ruin.
As the group moved to block the elderly woman from reaching Dang Youxuan, she did not advance further and prostrated herself there.
“The fortune-teller Cheon Danya greets the Lord of Poison.”
Sichuan Dang Family: Genius Redeemed
Author |
Yi Il-yeong
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Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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