Chapter 195

Chapter 195
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**Chapter 195: Disciples of the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables**

High atop Mount Wudang, nestled among the clouds, stood a secluded Taoist temple. A Taoist priest with a solemn countenance sipped his tea with deliberate grace before setting his cup down upon the table.

“So you are saying you require our Wudang Sect’s assistance.”

Even as the leader of Wudang, he dared not speak in such a tone with two of the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables seated before him. Yet he had spoken the words all the same.

“Sword Elder, this is a matter of peace for all under heaven. Why speak of ‘assistance’ when what we uphold is righteousness itself?”

The speaker was none other than the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerable Taiji Sword Elder—Wudang’s most revered elder. The people had long sought to bestow upon him the title of Sword Immortal, but he had humbly declined, calling himself merely the Sword Elder and saying that beside his own master, he was nothing more than an old man who had grown grey in the handling of a blade.

Great Sea Dragon King Blade Peng Beom glanced toward Breaking Heaven Sound Matriarch, read the look upon her face, and wore an expression that said there was no helping the situation.

*The Matriarch still holds the Sword Elder in dislike, as she always has. Then again, their paths could scarcely be more different.*

Since the Matriarch gave no sign that she intended to speak, Peng Beom stepped forward and answered in her stead.

“Sword Elder, you know as well as we do: when it comes to gathering information, neither the Matriarch nor I can match Wudang’s reach. Will your sect step forward?”

Ever since reports of Blood Cult forces emerging at the Sword King Tournament had reached them, the Matriarch and Peng Beom had pursued every lead. They had enjoyed some measure of success—slaying an upstart-ranked bishop and more than a hundred demon beasts—but beyond that, they had found nothing of substance.

“These villains move in units of perfect discipline,” Peng Beom continued. “And whatever sorcery they wield, it has built a structure of command beyond anything mortal reason could devise.”

“Even the Breaking Heaven Sound Matriarch, who answers to no faction, and the young of the Peng family have turned up not a single further clue,” the Sword Elder replied. “What difference would Wudang’s involvement make?”

It was a refusal. The Matriarch bristled openly.

“You have spent your later years so absorbed in building up your sect that you appear to have lost your edge entirely.”

The Taiji Sword Elder was the sole disciple of Immortal Jang Sam-bong—the first to be honored as a Sword Immortal since Yeo Dong-bin. He was also the founding patriarch who had established the Wudang Sect a full century before.

“Did you not once vow to build the greatest sect under heaven, to nurture the worthy and bring benefit to all the world? How hollow those words ring now.”

Though her words were sharp, the Sword Elder remained calm and unshaken.

“There are many roads by which to uphold righteousness and the chivalric way. Wudang walks the path suited to Wudang.”

To the Matriarch, this was a reply worthy only of scorn. The Sacred Sound Jade Spirit Gate, too, was a Taoist order devoted to the cultivation of the Immortal Way—and such talk of ‘the Way’ struck her as nothing more than sophistry, a thing that could be caught at the nose or snagged upon the ear, empty and insubstantial.

“You have always been this way.”

It was not that he refused to uphold righteousness; it was simply that he would do so only in the manner of Wudang. Yet for all his gentle words, every step the Sword Elder took seemed to redound to Wudang’s benefit. That was why the greatest sect in the land was now within his grasp. To the Matriarch, such a path was utterly incomprehensible.

“Very well. It seems our ways will never align. Let us take our leave, Dragon King Blade.”

“Ahem. Understood. Farewell then, Sword Elder.”

The Matriarch and Great Sea Dragon King Blade rose to depart.

“Then why not see if they might align, just this once?”

The Sword Elder’s voice was soft, yet it carried clearly through the quiet room.

“It is my intention that this Dragon-Phoenix Tournament shall be the stage upon which the world sees righteousness stand firm and unbowed.”

“I had heard Wudang is to host the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament, Sword Elder,” Peng Beom said.

“Dragon King Blade—have you found a disciple worthy to inherit all that you are?”

It was common knowledge among those who knew him that Great Sea Dragon King Blade Peng Beom sought a successor, one to whom he would pass every skill, title, and possession.

“And you, Matriarch—you entered seclusion to seek a disciple as well, did you not? Seeing you wander thus, it would appear you have found one.”

The sudden turn of conversation left them both wondering where he was leading.

“Make it known that your disciples shall enter the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament. Do that, and my own disciples shall scour every corner for traces of the Blood Cult.”

Were word to spread that disciples of the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables were taking part, interest in the tournament would surge beyond measure. All eyes would turn to the event, drawing attention that might otherwise remain hidden, and the resources thus freed could be directed toward hunting down the Blood Cult.

The Matriarch rejected the proposal at once.

“I have no wish to play the fool for Wudang’s sake.”

“What if the invitation extends to this Dragon King Blade’s disciple as well? I, too, have taken a disciple—though he may not yet be all I could wish.”

The Sword Elder stroked the hilt of the sword at his side, his gaze resting gently upon the Matriarch.

“I took him as my pupil not long ago—though ‘not long ago’ in this case means some twenty years have already passed. He is exceptionally gifted, and may yet achieve what I could not. He cares for nothing save his sword and has no desire to step into the mundane world… yet even so, I intend to bid him enter the Dragon-Phoenix Tournament.”

The Dragon King King Blade looked intrigued.

“The current leader of Wudang is your grand-disciple, is he not? That would make this boy of the same generation as the sect leader’s own students—yet you, the grandmaster, have taken him as your personal pupil! His talent must be extraordinary indeed!”

For the Sword Elder to take a disciple now was to step down a full cycle in the sect’s generational hierarchy—an unprecedented break with tradition in a sect that valued etiquette and above all else.

“Matriarch, we have never seen eye to eye. Why not settle the matter once and for all? Let us see whose choice of path lies closer to what is true.”

The Matriarch had no inclination to indulge in such childish games—but the Sword Elder gave her no time to answer.

“Send your disciple, at the very least. He may compete in the opening rounds and withdraw whenever he wishes. Victory is beyond his grasp in any case.”

It was childish, and she meant to refuse—yet the provocation was one no martial artist could endure in silence.

“I hear that Even Shaolin’s Like-One Joyful Buddha is presenting a disciple. Would that not make for an interesting contest?”

He spoke of none other than another of the Heavenly Martial Ten Venerables, and with his words, it became clear: two disciples of the Ten Venerables were already set to appear.

“You have never cared for the path I have chosen, Matriarch. Let us set your way against mine, and see which draws nearer to the truth. Unless… you lack the confidence?”

“Kehahaha! Sword Elder, you are as insufferable now as you have always been!”

The Dragon King Blade laughed aloud, hearty and unreserved—and the Matriarch departed as swiftly as a gust of wind. But the Sword Elder knew his stratagem had succeeded; he had known her for more than a hundred years, after all.

*Matriarch, your path is the path of Yu Gong: one man alone cannot move a mountain. But what if one became many? What is impossible for one may yet be possible for ten thousand acting as one… Wudang shall move the mountain.*

“This promises to be entertaining,” Peng Beom said with a broad smile. “I shall send the youth in whom I have placed my greatest hopes as well—let us enjoy this tournament, Sword Elder!”

—
⚔ DRAGON-PHOENIX TOURNAMENT ⚔
**Heavenly Martial Ten Venerable Breaking Heaven Sound Matriarch**
> Sacred Sound Jade Spirit Gate Disciples: Baek Yang-hui, Jegal Seol-ha

**Heavenly Martial Ten Venerable Great Sea Dragon King Blade**
> Hebei Peng Clan Young Leader: Peng Wang

**Heavenly Martial Ten Venerable Taiji Sword Elder**
> Wudang Sect Disciple: Hyun-gum

**Heavenly Martial Ten Venerable Like-One Joyful Buddha**
> Shaolin Temple Disciple: A-Du

*Participation Confirmed*

—

Baek Yang-hui listened as the Matriarch explained the arrangement, and struggled to keep his expression composed. *This is utterly ridiculous.* That a Heavenly Martial Ten Venerable could be goaded so easily, and now gnashed her teeth in determination over it…

“It is ridiculous, however I look at it.”

“Ugh!”

Baek Yang-hui was sent hurtling more than ten zhang through the air. He was standing upon a cliff ledge, at least a hundred zhang above the ground below. *This feels familiar. The first time we met, you cast me straight off a cliff without so much as a warning.*

Then, he had been able to drive his sword into the rock face to slow his fall—now, he had no such recourse.

“Young hero, speak your mind freely, and I shall see you safely down,” the Matriarch said, falling alongside him at exactly the same speed. She had long since mastered the Void Grasping Step and could arrest her descent at any moment with Void Treading.

“This is unfair!”

“Hm. You sound confident.”

In truth, he needed no assistance. A fall from such a height would prove fatal even to a martial artist of peak attainment—but he had Vessel Thousand Steps and Endless Cycles at his command. The moment his feet touched the earth, he dispersed the force of impact outward in every direction, guided by the principles of Flower Absorbing Wood and Four-Two-Ones-Thousand-Pounds. His robes billowed wildly as energy erupted around him.

“Remarkable mastery of lightness skill. I had expected at the very least a broken bone or two.”

“Thank you for your praise, Master.”

Satisfaction was plain upon the Matriarch’s face.

“Depending on how swiftly you progress, I shall give you intensive instruction—for a few months at the shortest, or as long as a year at most.”

“I shall strive to meet your expectations, Master.”

“I have something I must say first, if I may.”

“Speak.”

“I am truly sorry, but I have pressing duties that require my return home.”

“That is no obstacle.”

“Pardon?” That did not sound like no obstacle at all.

“Merely having duties does not mean you must bear every burden alone.”

“Master, I beg you to hear me out—”

The Matriarch cut him short.

“That boy Baek Mu-ryang shows considerable shrewdness. Here—this is for you.”

She handed him a letter, which he unfolded and read. In essence, it said that preparations for the Zhao Alliance crossing were already underway; his father would oversee all clan affairs in his absence; and he was to devote himself entirely to advancing his martial arts under his new teacher’s guidance.

*How could he have known?* He had not yet spoken of his long-held ambition to secure the Yangtze River for the Zhao Alliance, nor had he intended to discuss the matter until his return alongside Jin Dal-bong.

“Those of great talent so often fall into the trap of thinking they must do everything themselves.”

Baek Yang-hui fell silent, and looked at her with swelling pride. “You are right, Master. I thank you for your guidance.”

He would not carry the Baek Clan forward alone—they would advance together. *In time, perhaps the clan shall carry me forward.* A smile touched his lips. If this was to be his path, then he would throw himself wholeheartedly into his training.

“Master! Your disciple is ready!”

“Good. Shall we begin at once?”

“One question first. You spoke of an opponent I might stand a chance against—who is it?”

The answer came as a complete surprise.

“Hyun-gum of Wudang.”

“Hyun-gum? I have never heard the name.” He found himself recalling a figure from the Sword King Tournament. “I thought the most gifted disciple of Wudang’s generation was Hyun-hyun?”

“Hyun-hyun? Who is that?”

“That is the one I meant. He is spoken of as Wudang’s rising star.”

“Ah—there is confusion. Hyun-gum belongs to the generation before Hyun-hyun’s.”

“What?!”

Typically, disciples were taken between the ages of twenty and thirty, and Wudang’s generations shifted in orderly sequence. To take a pupil from a prior generation was almost unheard of.

“Then he would be well over thirty-six—the upper age limit for entry to the tournament. And if he is of the generation before the current sect leader… is he not of the same standing as the sect leader’s own master?”

“Precisely. He is the direct disciple of Wudang’s founding patriarch, and counts as a grand-disciple to the legendary Jang Sam-bong.”

Why had such a figure never risen to prominence in all he knew? He recalled Hyun-hyun—admired among his peers, yet somehow lacking in the depth one might expect of Wudang’s future greatest swordsman.

“Is this Hyun-gum entirely devoted to the sword, and indifferent to worldly affairs?”

“How could you know that?”

*Then it is true. Perhaps all the fame that should have been Hyun-gum’s was instead attributed to Hyun-hyun.*

A piercing cry cut through the air. A pure white hawk descended and alighted beside him.

“Won-u.”

He had sent the bird to hunt some time before arriving; when his presence had vanished during the sudden abduction, Won-u had followed the spiritual bond between them.

The Matriarch stared, wide-eyed. “That bird… can it truly be…?”

“Master, do you know Won-u?”

Legend held that Won-u had once been the spirit beast companion of Sword Immortal Yeo Dong-bin. As leader of the Sacred Sound Jade Spirit Gate, an order steeped in ancient lore, it was only natural that she would recognize the bird.
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