The Battle for the Heavenly Sword - Chapter 1

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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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Yugong Yishan
The Foolish Sword Competes for Supremacy
A foolish old man moves a mountain,
And a dullard’s sword vies for the world.
1
The Foolish Sword Competes for Supremacy
The old Taoist looked down at his broken sword.
The Refined Steel Sword he had received from his master at the age of twelve was snapped in half, its sharp edge lost.
The old Taoist thought the state of the sword mirrored his own.
In truth, his haggard appearance was not much different from the half-broken sword.
The Taoist Crown he had worn so neatly, without a single stray hair escaping, had vanished somewhere, leaving his hair wildly disheveled, and his blue Taoist Robe, a symbol of purity, was shredded like rags.
His long white beard and chest were stained crimson with blood, making him look like a bloody phantom.
Large wounds on his lower belly and flank gaped open like the gills of a fish.
Even after sustaining deep injuries that would have claimed an ordinary person’s life long ago, the old Taoist stood stubbornly, holding his ground.
There was a man who watched with admiration as the old Taoist swayed perilously like a reed but refused to fall.
“Impressive, Taoist! You are the only one who has ever driven me this far.”
The speaker was a middle-aged man who appeared to be in his early fifties.
His fierce eyes beneath eyebrows as thick as caterpillars, his blunt nose, and his tightly set lips evoked a tiger, the king of the mountains.
The man’s frame was also as grand as a tiger’s, overflowing with an intimidating presence.
Yet, this man’s condition was no better than the old Taoist’s. No, it was rather more wretched.
His left arm had been severed near the shoulder, and fatal wounds were visible on his chest, abdomen, and neck.
The mere fact that he was still alive after sustaining such injuries was nothing short of a miracle.
The old Taoist also looked at the middle-aged man with admiration.
“You are the one who is truly impressive. This old Taoist sincerely admires your majesty and grit.”
“Save your empty words.”
“No. If we had met under different circumstances instead of as enemies, I might have genuinely followed you.”
The old Taoist meant every word.
The man standing before him was an unparalleled genius and a martial artist possessing the world’s finest might.
The man’s name was Zha Mu-wol.
He was an apostate monk from Shaolin.
A talent of the ages who had mastered as many as twenty-two of the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts.
He had entered Shaolin before he could even walk and lived there for thirty years.
Zha Mu-wol was the only person to have mastered twenty-two of the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts before turning thirty.
Everyone held Zha Mu-wol in awe, never doubting that he would become a massive pillar supporting the Jianghu.
But one day, Zha Mu-wol betrayed the expectations of countless people and stormed out of Shaolin. Then, he established an organization called the Cheonmyeong Association.
After creating the Cheonmyeong Association, Zha Mu-wol declared war against Shaolin.
Hardly anyone knew why Zha Mu-wol had made such a decision. The few who knew the reason kept their mouths tightly shut.
People called it reckless.
They cursed him as an ungrateful traitor.
Everyone in the Jianghu became an enemy of the Cheonmyeong Association.
For whatever reason, turning against one’s master’s sect was a taboo in the Jianghu.
Moreover, the opponent he turned against was none other than the Shaolin Temple.
The Mount Tai and the North Star of the Jianghu, and the origin of martial arts.
It was harder to find someone among those living in the Jianghu who did not possess at least a shred of a connection to the Shaolin Temple.
The actions of Zha Mu-wol and the Cheonmyeong Association were no different from turning the entire Jianghu into their enemy.
No one could remain safe while making an enemy of the entire Jianghu.
Everyone thought the Cheonmyeong Association would collapse before long. However, the Cheonmyeong Association endured stubbornly.
No, rather, they pressured Shaolin with a terrifying momentum.
The war grew progressively fiercer, resulting in countless casualties.
Consequently, the other Nine Great Sects could no longer stand by and watch, and they joined the war.
All of the Nine Great Sects, including Shaolin, moved to annihilate the Cheonmyeong Association.
The battle between the Nine Great Sects and the Cheonmyeong Association dragged on for a full twenty years, leading to this very day.
This place was the stronghold of the Cheonmyeong Association.
Having discovered the stronghold of the Cheonmyeong Association, the Nine Sects Alliance mobilized every available force to launch an invasion.
The Nine Sects Alliance was confident they could end the long, tedious fight today.
While they acknowledged the hidden strength of the Cheonmyeong Association, they were certain that it could not withstand the united power of the Nine Sects Alliance.
However, this was a miscalculation on the part of the Nine Sects Alliance.
The stronghold of the Cheonmyeong Association was a death trap.
Countless traps and Mechanical Trap Formations were laid out as densely as a spider’s web, and every martial artist of the Cheonmyeong Association fought to the death with desperate resolve.
The Nine Sects Alliance suffered catastrophic damage from the martial artists of the Cheonmyeong Association, who lunged like hungry ghosts, risking life and limb.
The same was true for the Cheonmyeong Association.
It was a Mutual Destruction.
Dozens of corpses lay scattered around Zha Mu-wol.
They were the corpses of the leadership of the Cheonmyeong Association, alongside the sect leaders of the Nine Great Sects.
Those who had fought fiercely for twenty years had died with swords plunged into each other’s chests.
Among those who had been present here, the only survivors were the old Taoist and Zha Mu-wol.
Zha Mu-wol let out a smirk.
“Still, I’m truly glad that the one who survived until the very end is you. Taoist!”
“If the Association Leader had not stayed his hand, how could this old man have survived until now?”
“Excessive politeness is rather a discourtesy. I did my best. Yet, I failed to kill you. That is how strong you are.”
“It is thanks to the help of others.”
“Even so, the hidden strength of a prestigious sect that has weathered hundreds of years of waves is remarkable. I thought it had completely fallen into ruin, but I truly didn’t know that someone like you remained in Quanzhen.”
The old Taoist, who boasted an appearance like an immortal, hailed from the Quanzhen Sect, which was known to have had its lineage severed long ago.
The Quanzhen Sect was the origin of Taoism.
Many Taoist sects currently in the Jianghu traced their roots back to the Quanzhen Sect.
However, as a vast amount of time passed, the Quanzhen Sect was gradually forgotten by the world.
It had fallen because its descendants failed to properly master its vast and profound martial arts.
The old Taoist was the last descendant to properly inherit the teachings of the Quanzhen Sect.
Until now, he had practiced martial arts alone without taking any disciples, but he had reluctantly stepped forward at the earnest entreaty of Hui Kong, an elder of the Shaolin Temple.
Hui Kong, who had summoned him to the Jianghu, lay as a corpse near Zha Mu-wol.
His face looked peaceful, as if he were asleep. He had met his death in that manner, looking as though he had been liberated from a long agony.
As Zha Mu-wol gazed at Hui Kong’s corpse, countless emotions intersected in his eyes.
The old Taoist asked,
“Do you regret it?”
“He was my master. He took me in when I was an orphan wandering the world, brought me to Shaolin, fed me, gave me a place to sleep, and taught me martial arts. How could I ever repay that kindness? But before that, he and Shaolin are my enemies. Because of their arrogance and wrong choices, my entire family died.”
“Sigh!”
“Whether it was out of guilt or not, Master always treated me with sincerity. I, too, respected and loved Master more than anyone. It would have been better if I had never known the truth until the end…”
One day, an Old Servant who came to Shaolin revealed the truth to Zha Mu-wol and died as his lifespan reached its end.
When he learned that he, who had believed himself to be a destitute orphan, was actually the son of a prominent family and that the family had been destroyed because of Shaolin, Zha Mu-wol felt as if the sky were collapsing.
Tormented between the heavenly bond of family and the affection between master and disciple, Zha Mu-wol ultimately chose his family.
Descending from Mount Song, Zha Mu-wol created the Cheonmyeong Association to seek vengeance, and after twenty years, he crossed paths with his master, Hui Kong.
Zha Mu-wol reached out and took Hui Kong’s hand.
The hand that had always warmly caressed his cheek had grown cold.
The moment he faced Zha Mu-wol for the last time, Hui Kong had not resisted even once, accepting his attack entirely.
With a single blow, his heart was shattered, and all his heart meridians were severed.
Even so, he did not resent Zha Mu-wol.
Instead, he apologized, saying he was sorry, and died with a benevolent smile.
At that moment, Zha Mu-wol’s frozen heart thawed.
Hui Kong was someone who had absolutely nothing to do with the slaughter of his family. Even so, he had lived his entire life harboring deep guilt in his chest.
To him, life had been an ascetic trial.
Hui Kong had not wanted to fight his disciple, Zha Mu-wol.
Rather, he had intended to apologize by sacrificing his own life. However, as a mere elder, he could not defy the will of all of Shaolin.
The Shaolin Temple had reigned as the Mount Tai and the North Star of the Jianghu for hundreds of years.
The Shaolin Temple believed that the moment they admitted their mistake, the authority they had built across generations would crumble.
To conceal the truth, they fiercely drove back the Cheonmyeong Association, and the other Nine Great Sects joined forces with them. They believed that if Shaolin fell to the Cheonmyeong Association, they would be next.
The same applied to the Cheonmyeong Association.
At first, it was a war unique to the Cheonmyeong Association, but as those who had been wrongfully victimized by the Nine Great Sects joined, its influence grew beyond imagination.
To the point where even Zha Mu-wol could not control it.
This was not the picture Zha Mu-wol had desired. However, the flow of destiny had enveloped him in a torrent beyond imagination.
This was the result.
The Nine Great Sects suffered a heavy blow that would be difficult to recover from, and the Cheonmyeong Association also sustained damage close to annihilation.
It would take at least fifty years for the Nine Great Sects to restore their past prosperity.
Zha Mu-wol let go of Hui Kong’s hand and spoke.
“Master, wait just a little while. I will also go to where you are soon.”
He raised his body and approached the old Taoist.
The old Taoist spoke with a look of pity,
“Must it end this way?”
“People like a clear conclusion. The same goes for me. Taoist, let us bring a definitive conclusion now.”
“This old Taoist’s true name is Baek Ho-yang.”
“Baek Ho-yang?”
“I wanted to let you know my true name, not my Taoist Name.”
“A good name. Baek Ho-yang! Do your best. I, too, will give it everything I have.”
Rumble!
No sooner had Zha Mu-wol finished speaking than the surrounding atmosphere surged frantically.
He was preparing his final blow, burning away even his last remaining Origin Qi.
“Phew!”
Baek Ho-yang let out a sigh and raised his half-broken Refined Steel Sword.
The Refined Steel Sword, stripped of its sharp edge, pointed toward Zha Mu-wol.
Just as Zha Mu-wol had done, Baek Ho-yang also drew up every bit of his remaining Martial Cultivation Force.
“Here I come.”
“Come.”
No sooner had Baek Ho-yang finished speaking than Zha Mu-wol charged forward with terrifying speed.
The old Taoist’s broken sword and Zha Mu-wol’s single remaining arm clashed.
Boom!
A colossal impact, as if a volcano had erupted, shook the entire mountain.
***
Creak! Creak!
The Old Boatman rowed the oar skillfully.
The tiny boat carried only one passenger, an old Taoist who looked visibly stricken with illness.
The old Taoist, whose complexion was as pale as a corpse, was none other than Baek Ho-yang.
The fight with Zha Mu-wol had ultimately ended in his victory. However, Baek Ho-yang did not consider himself the victor.
Just as Hui Kong had done, Zha Mu-wol had also dispersed his Martial Cultivation Force at the final moment.
Baek Ho-yang’s sword had ruthlessly pierced Zha Mu-wol’s chest.
Zha Mu-wol had closed his eyes with an expression of relief, but Baek Ho-yang, who became the victor, could not do the same.
With a complicated mind, he did not even look at the survivors of the Nine Great Sects and immediately descended the mountain.
After walking for a long time, he saw a boat, and so he boarded it without a second thought.
Because he had moved excessively without proper treatment, his Internal Injuries had grown even deeper. Even so, Baek Ho-yang did not care about the state of his body.
A feeling that it did not matter either way dominated his heart.
He no longer possessed the will to carry on with life.
The battle against the Cheonmyeong Association and Zha Mu-wol had left him not only with physical wounds but also with immense psychological trauma.
He, who had spent his entire life practicing alone and cultivating the Dao, had killed countless people.
Even killing a single person leaves a shock that lasts a lifetime, so how much more so when the people who died by his hand numbered over dozens?
If the martial artists of the Cheonmyeong Association had attacked moderately, Baek Ho-yang would have merely inflicted moderate injuries and stopped. However, they had lunged with a desperate resolve to die, and Baek Ho-yang had been forced to use Killing Blows.
He was tormented because he still could not forget the eyes of the countless people who had died by his hand.
“Huh?”
At that moment, the wreckage of a boat and people drifting along the river caught Baek Ho-yang’s eye. Seeing no movement, it appeared they had already drawn their last breaths.
It seemed a boat had capsized upstream.
“Mmm!”
Baek Ho-yang let out a low groan as he looked at the corpses.
Just then, a young boy who appeared to be only about fourteen or fifteen years old entered his field of vision.
Although he had lost consciousness, the boy’s chest could be seen rising and falling faintly.
He was hanging on to his breath, however faintly.
Without needing to think any further, Baek Ho-yang kicked off from the boat and threw his body toward the boy.
“Oh my!”
The Old Boatman sat down in shock, but Baek Ho-yang paid no heed and flew across the water’s surface.
Deploying the Water-Gliding Technique, Baek Ho-yang reached the target location in an instant, slung the boy over his shoulder, and returned to the boat.
Baek Ho-yang laid the boy down on the floor and hurriedly checked his condition.
The boy’s complexion was deathly pale, devoid of any blood.
His right hand, crushed as if struck by a massive hammer, was in such a wretched state that a full recovery could not be guaranteed even with treatment, and terrible wounds were also carved into his chest and lower belly.
Judging by the shape of the wounds, it was clear that someone had intentionally used Vicious Attacks.
They had ensured that even if he were fortunate enough to survive, he could absolutely never lead a normal life.
“Who could have committed such a heinous act against a mere child?”
Baek Ho-yang closed his eyes tightly.
The war between the Cheonmyeong Association and the Nine Great Sects had ended, but the Age of Chaos was not yet over.
This boy was a victim of the Age of Chaos.
Baek Ho-yang felt a powerful destiny emanating from the boy.
“Perhaps you might become the reason for me to live.”

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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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