Chapter 187

Chapter 187
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**Chapter 187: Sun-Piercing Sect’s Secret**

Members from all four sects, and even unattached martial artists, spent time moving through basic weapon drills together. They aligned their stances and strikes, watching one another to learn the contours of each other’s fighting styles.

For Yang-hui, however, there was only one thing that truly mattered: mastering the techniques of the Sun-Piercing Sect.

He had already grown intimately familiar with the arts of Emei and Qingcheng in his past life, after all.

*Come to think of it… I barely crossed paths with the Sun-Piercing Sect back then.*

It stood among the Nine Great Sects, and it would be no exaggeration to call it the beating heart of the orthodox martial world. Encountering its disciples anywhere one went was hardly a surprise—just as one might stumble upon practitioners from other leading schools. Some, like Shaolin, were revered as paragons of virtue and righteousness, yet carried themselves with the quiet mystery of reclusive orders. The Sun-Piercing Sect was much the same.

*Once the foremost sword tradition under heaven… a order utterly consumed by the blade.*

To most swordsmen, their weapon was a companion for life, something to be cherished as dearly as their own flesh and blood. But for nearly all, those were just words—few truly staked their very existence on the sword itself.

The Sun-Piercing Sect was different. Its devotees truly did wager everything, their lives included, upon their chosen art.

They were the most exacting standard-bearers not just among the Nine Great Sects, but across the entire realm. Their pursuit of sword intent was so uncompromising it bordered on obsession.

*The proof could not be clearer: the Sun-Piercing Sword Technique.*

If Wudang possessed its Taiji Beneficent Sword and the Namgung Clan its Vaulting Sky Thoughtless Sword, the Sun-Piercing Sect laid claim to the Sun-Piercing Sword Technique. True to its name, it was a form that sought to drive straight through the very sun itself—a pure, unyielding thrust that cast aside all other considerations, a martial path dedicated entirely to that single, relentless purpose.

“Taoist Neung-o. Would you care to test blades for a few exchanges?”

“With pleasure.”

Neung-o, whose composure had slipped only moments before, recovered his customary bearing at once. His expression was steady, touched by the faintest of smiles, as they stepped forward to meet one another.

Steel rang against steel—*Chaaeng! Shrieeek!*

“Magnificent. The Sun-Piercing Sword Technique more than lives up to its renown as one of the realm’s matchless arts.”

Every strike carried the fierce resolve to pierce through an opponent even if it meant destruction for both. Given Neung-o’s usual gentle demeanor, such ferocity seemed entirely out of character.

*Why does he change the moment the subject turns to martial arts?*

“I would also learn a thing or two from the rest of you,” he said, turning to the other disciples of the Sun-Piercing Sect and taking a step forward.

“Is that truly necessary? If you wish only to observe our methods, my sword should serve well enough.”

*Just as I suspected. He comes alive whenever martial arts are involved.*

“It is not merely about watching forms—it is about ensuring our movements work in harmony. Naturally, I must cross swords briefly with each of you.”

He met Neung-o’s quiet objection with good grace, then proceeded to trade a short series of exchanges with every disciple in turn.

*There is something… wrong about these people.*

All of them were practicing the Sun-Piercing Sword Technique, and on the surface there was nothing amiss. Sects such as Hwasan taught foundational forms like the Six Harmony Sword or Seven Stars Sword before guiding disciples toward deeper mysteries such as the Plum Blossom Twenty-Four Swords. But the Sun-Piercing Sect was known for teaching nothing but its signature art from the very first day—disciples might learn early, intermediate, or advanced variations according to their skill and standing, yet the core technique remained unchanged throughout.

That made what he saw all the more unsettling.

*Every single one of them—Neung-o aside—strikes as though they have barely practiced at all.*

The Sun-Piercing Sect was meant to be a gathering of those who lived and died by the sword, a gathering place for souls willing to cast aside all else in pursuit of the Sun-Piercing ideal. That was how it had stood for centuries, and how the martial world had always seen it.

—Brother Tang. Have you noticed something amiss?
—I have. The Sun-Piercing Sect has always punched far above its weight through absolute focus and relentless drive. This… this is not right.
—It is as though they rushed through the basics and never truly laid a proper foundation.
—Precisely. That is exactly the impression they give.

A quick scan of those around him suggested no one else had picked up on the discrepancy. Then again, it would be easy enough to dismiss clumsy swordplay as nothing more than an off day.

*I too would have brushed it aside if I were not already watching the Sun-Piercing Sect with suspicion.*

For now, he had only stronger grounds for doubt—no reason yet to press the matter openly. But…

*When you catch sight of a fox’s tail, you do not let it slip away.*

He thought back to the map he had entrusted to Taoist Seongpung of Qingcheng. In truth, Yang-hui had not marked every detail Won-u had uncovered during his scouting.

“We have tested one another’s skill well enough. It is time to depart.”

“Agreed. The broad outline of our plan is settled. We can work out the finer points as we travel.”

All had assumed the Sok Rang Stronghold lay hidden deep within some remote, impenetrable mountain fastness. Instead, it sat in a most unexpected location.

Riverwood Forest. Where mountain streams gathered from across the range to form a broad, powerful river, stood a dense stretch of woodland. Even near its edge, the water stretched more than a hundred zhang across, with shallows that barely reached the knees in places.

“Far closer than I would have guessed.”

“Well… bandits will be bandits. There is no helping it.”

The Sword Corner range was rugged enough to give even seasoned martial artists pause, so perhaps the choice of site made a certain kind of sense.

“Everyone—let us move out.”

“With this map, we might see this mission through in a single day if fortune favors us.”

They had been well rewarded for their part in the campaign, and most were eager to earn further credit. A swift victory would open the way to greater opportunities—no wonder spirits ran high.

“Young Master Baek, you have made this seem effortless. Should you ever travel near Emei, do seek me out—Nun Gye-hwa will ensure you are well received.”

“And I thank you, Sister.”

Where the disciples of Emei were warm and open, those of Qingcheng offered no such pleasantries. Cool reserve was simply the way of their order.

“The boundary of Riverwood Forest lies just ahead.”

“Exactly as marked upon the map.”

Before long the ground turned to gravel, and the water rose until it lapped at their ankles. Further ahead, it would reach their knees. They had traveled swiftly using lightness skill until now, but such movement was no longer possible.

Taoist Seongpung shaded his eyes and peered toward the treeline.

“They will see us coming the moment we step into view.”

“As we discussed—we divide from here.”

The goal of the expedition was nothing less than the total eradication of the Sok Rang Stronghold. To leave no foe alive meant encirclement was essential.

*Frankly, I would not have chosen this approach.*

He had helped surround and wipe out a bandit stronghold once before alongside the Tang siblings. But unlike that ragtag band, the leaders of Sok Rang were notorious and dangerous foes. Their own forces held no overwhelming numerical advantage—splitting apart so casually invited being destroyed piece by piece.

Yet the order to divide had been given regardless. It was the most efficient plan, they said. It was also the most dangerous. No one raised a single objection. When three proud and renowned sects marched together, each jealous of its reputation… such behavior was only to be expected.

—Brother Tang, we shall keep close to the Young Clan Leader.
—That was always the intent. We shall ensure no harm comes to him—escort duty shall be our part.

The Tang siblings knew their clan would claim no great glory in this fight. To strive for it would only draw suspicion and resentment from the greater orders. In time they would forge ties between the Baek Clan and Jin Yeong-gil behind the scenes—there was no need to seek attention now. Standing guard, offering loyal service, was worth far more than any fleeting renown.

—Perfect. This way we may also keep a closer watch upon the Sun-Piercing Sect.
—Precisely.

The Sok Rang Stronghold had been laid out with genuine strategic forethought. Pressed against the face of a tall cliff, it possessed only three approaches. The front was guarded by that wide river, easily watched from within—meaning only two flanks offered any real chance of attack.

—Emei and Qingcheng shall strike from the sides, while the Sun-Piercing Sect holds the riverfront. We shall follow behind and lend aid where it is needed.

The offer of help carried an unspoken condition: that the Sun-Piercing Sect would find itself in trouble first. There was no help for it; Won-u’s reports had long made clear this would be no easy victory.

*Let us see what they truly are.*

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Every marking upon Yang-hui’s map had been entirely accurate. Not a single falsehood or fabrication had been included. There was only one fact he had learned—and chosen to omit.

*Who could have imagined a mere bandit stronghold would hold such strength.*

The Nine Great Sects and the Tang Clan were not naive; each possessed its own sources of information. Cross-checking accounts made it simple to present a picture that rang entirely true, leaving no loose questions in its wake. The reason was straightforward: the sudden surge in Sok Rang’s numbers was temporary, a fleeting coincidence.

“Kuhahahaha! You fools!”

“Strutting about as though you were gods upon your mountain peaks!”

“Today we shall teach you a lesson you shall never forget!”

“Burn this into your hearts and speak of it in the afterlife: it was Black Green Bandit Lord who brought you low!”

“And Giant God Iron Bastion stands with him!”

“As do I—Blood Lord Gu-ak!”

The plan had been simple: strike both flanks, seal the front, and crush the stronghold in a single coordinated blow. It fell apart from the very first moment.

The initial ambush went as intended—until it became clear that three of the Green Forest Ten Heroes were present within the stronghold. These were the most feared leaders among the nearly ten thousand bandits scattered across the Green Forest Seventy-Two Strongholds, trusted lieutenants to the Bandit King himself. Each stood at the peak of their art, commanding forces two or three times larger than intelligence had suggested.

“Damnation!”

Taoist Seongpung of Qingcheng cursed, his composure crumbling. He and the Emei party had charged from the flanks only to find themselves outmatched and nearly overwhelmed, escaping with their lives only to fall back toward the riverfront. His anger was entirely understandable.

“What in heaven’s name are they doing here?”

“Young Master Baek! What is the meaning of this?!”

The answer came from the bandits themselves.

“You have the worst of luck!”

“Another three days and we would have been gone!”

Leaders of the Ten Heroes made regular inspections of the strongest strongholds, staying only a handful of days each year. By pure misfortune, the expedition had arrived at the very moment they were there.

“Cut them down!”

“I shall feast on the flesh of monks and taoists alike!”

Disaster loomed. A battle where bodies fell uncounted seemed all but certain. In other words… the perfect moment to lay bare whatever secret the Sun-Piercing Sect was hiding.

“Die!”

“Silence your vile tongue, bandit scum!”

The disciples of the Sun-Piercing Sect raised their swords and struck. Their movements were nothing like the Sun-Piercing Sword Technique Yang-hui had seen earlier that day. Yet they were undeniably powerful, and undeniably familiar.

*This is…!*

His faint suspicion hardened into certainty. The forms carried the unmistakable essence of the Ming Cult—the Sun-Moon Holy Cult, that order of zealots who revered light as the very face of truth. Every art they practiced was rooted in the principles and mysteries of illumination.

*A sword that divides the light itself. Fascinating.*

With proof now plain for all to see, it was time to bring the truth into the open. Yang-hui stepped forward, gliding through the chaos as though he walked through still air.

“What is this brat?”

“Does he seek death?!”

He was charging into the heart of the enemy formation—entirely alone.

—Kiyaaaaaaaa!

Yang-hui bared his teeth in a fierce smile, and drove his sword down into the surface of the river.

“Raising Tiger Bright Formation, Water Convergence.”
⟨ Tiger Roar Resonance ⟩

—Kiyaaaaaaaaa!

One by one, the bandits crumpled to the ground, losing consciousness where they stood.