Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Chapter 123 : Azure Divine Sword

Azure Divine Sword

A few more days passed like that.

In the meantime, countless duels had taken place without pause.

The number exceeded dozens.

In order for all participating martial artists to compete, the duels had to proceed ceaselessly from morning until sunset.

Fortunately, duels between martial artists did not take long.

Unlike life-or-death battles, duels were usually a matter of short, decisive exchanges.

Once all the martial skills prepared by both sides were unleashed, the outcome was determined in an instant.

During this time, Shin Soryeong was also defeated in a duel.

They said it was against Peng Mu-gyeol of the Hebei Peng Clan.

Although Jeong-un had not personally witnessed it, he could guess how the match must have flowed.

'She probably couldn't withstand his relentless swordsmanship.'

Even if she had recently gained new insights, he would still have been a difficult opponent.

Peng Mu-gyeol possessed not only refined martial arts but also a natural talent for the martial path.

Still, Jeong-un didn't believe the gap was all that large.

In his view, Shin Soryeong merely needed more time to refine her martial skills.

During this time, Jeong-un observed various parts of Shaolin Temple.

He did so even during the daytime, when everyone's attention was focused on the duel matches.

He had claimed to be resting in his room for recuperation, but he had spent much time peering through the lattice window, surveying the area.

He even visited the Upper Medicine Hall.

With Shin Soryeong's guidance, he was able to enter, and the abbot kindly offered him precious medicine for internal injuries.

Apparently, his close relationship with Shin Soryeong, the heir of a secular clan, and the martial skills he showed during the duel had earned such favor.

However, Jeong-un declined with a wave of his hand, as he was not truly injured.

He asked them to save such valuable medicine for someone in real need.

At this, Shin Soryeong gave him a strange look from the side, but he pretended not to notice.

'No way could I accept that.'

Even though he had faked his identity and pretended to sustain injuries during the duel, he wasn't shameless enough to accept such precious items.

'Still, I haven't gained anything at all.'

He still had not found any trace of the Divine Thief.

There was no clue as to whether the thief would scale Shaolin's wall again, or had already infiltrated and was lying in wait within.

After all, nearly ten thousand people were coming and going at Shaolin's threshold every day.

If a peak expert deliberately hid their energy and mingled among them, it would be nearly impossible to find.

Besides, they couldn't assign a master of high-level internal arts to scrutinize every single person entering and exiting the sect.

The matter concerning the Divine Thief was strictly an internal Shaolin secret.

They certainly wouldn't want to reveal to outsiders that they were saddled with such a troublesome issue.

'He's the sort who takes delight in teasing and mocking others.'

Those had been Mu Jung's words.

If so, perhaps the mere fact that a huge group like Shaolin was troubled by him would be a source of amusement for the thief.

It seemed Shaolin wished to avoid giving him even the faintest clue of that.

One had to admit, it was a truly difficult situation.

They could not show signs of being on alert for the thief, nor could they reveal to outsiders that anything was amiss.

Of course, they still had to thoroughly guard against theft.

At the same time, they had to ferret out the thief who might have already sneaked in.

'So this is what "face" means.'

Even as he thought so, Jeong-un couldn't complain forever.

By now, he understood that countless common people depended on that "face" for their own measure of peace in this land.

"How are you feeling?"

From beside him, Shin Soryeong asked.

For the first time in a while, Jeong-un had come out of his room to watch the duels.

No matter what internal injuries he supposedly had, he couldn't remain shut in all day for days on end.

After all, he was an invited guest at an esteemed event.

There were certain courtesies that had to be shown. He felt it was best to make an appearance from time to time.

"I've improved a great deal. The natural energy of Mount Song is truly clear. Just circulating my true ki through meditation seems to have purified my body."

To this, Shin Soryeong replied with a smile.

"So you felt it. The air at Mount Shaoshi is famous for its clarity. There are even rumors among commoners that climbing and descending the neighboring peaks alone brings great benefit."

"I see."

"Even so, if you still need anything, feel free to let me know. That internal medicine I offered last time—Shaolin is a wealthy and prominent sect. Giving you one pill would hardly be a loss. There's no need for you to feel embarrassed if you change your mind."

"......"

Jeong-un looked at Shin Soryeong for a moment and spoke calmly as a thought occurred to him.

"I wonder why people say such things about you."

"Sorry? What do you mean?"

"They say you're cold and distant. But I don't think that's the case at all. It pains me that others seem unaware of how kindhearted you are."

Shin Soryeong blinked several times, clearly not expecting that comment.

She half-opened her mouth, closed it, then replied softly.

"Ah......"

"......?"

"Thank you."

"Of course, shall we go?"

And so they made their way toward the duel arena.

As they passed along the small path from the lodgings to the arena, the crowd gradually grew larger.

Even at a glance, there were many more people than usual.

"There seem to be far more people than usual today."

"That's because today is the semi-final of the Shaolin Assembly."

"Ah."

So it had come to that already, thought Jeong-un.

He hadn't been sensitive to the passage of time lately.

He'd spent every day on alert, and yet hadn't gained any leads.

It was the same when he observed Shaolin's movements.

There was still no sign that anything had been stolen or lost.

Up until the finals of the duel, the Divine Thief had not made a move.

"Young hero Cheon! You came out today!"

From afar, Gongsun Yeong called out.

This time she wasn't alone; she approached, accompanied by several martial artists.

These included the sons of prominent clans, such as Murong Song and Zhuge Myeong.

Each greeted Jeong-un with a martial salute, their attitudes more polite than the first time.

After seeing Jeong-un's duels, their perception had changed.

They even overlooked the fact that Jeong-un's sect, Baek Sword Gate, was a no-name, middling sect.

No scion of a prestigious clan would have grown up without memorizing the Four Books and Five Classics.

They all knew that a lotus blooming in the mud was all the more valuable.

Murong Song spoke.

"How's your body?"

"I'm fine."

"That's good to hear. If you weren't, I was going to offer you one of the elixirs I have on hand."

"Your thoughtfulness is more than enough for me."

Jeong-un responded to Murong Song's playful tone with ease.

There seemed to be no malice.

Whether he truly intended to give him an elixir, Jeong-un could not know.

'He's different from Murong Cheon.'

Murong Cheon was someone he had met during the special exam, and now was active in the Black Guard.

Since then, they'd met several times and exchanged cordial greetings.

Jeong-un did not know their precise relationship, but guessed Murong Cheon was probably from a collateral branch, since the one before him was a direct descendant—and the young clan head, at that.

Turning slightly, Jeong-un asked Shin Soryeong,

"By the way, who is participating in today's duel?"

"You don't know? I thought you came out because you knew the roster."

The reply came from Murong Song from beside him, eyes wide in surprise.

"I didn't know. I was just focusing on healing my injuries."

"Is it someone I'd recognize?"

Murong Song grinned and said playfully, as if amused,

"Of course you would. If you hadn't withdrawn because of injury, you would have faced him yourself."

"You mean Namgung Hui?"

"That's right."

Azure Divine Sword.

Jeong-un repeated the nickname he had heard before.

How skilled with the sword must one be, to have "Divine Sword" included in their title?

Because he had been busy keeping watch for the Divine Thief, he'd never seen Namgung Hui's duels.

But based on others' reactions, it was clear he possessed formidable ability.

Jeong-un said,

"To be honest, I don't know much about him. I haven't even met him during my time here."

"No wonder."

Murong Song clicked his tongue lightly.

"He's like a lofty crane—a man who doesn't associate with others. I heard he only speaks with his immediate kin. Apparently there are very few who have ever heard his voice. Oh, right."

He suddenly turned to Zhuge Myeong as if remembering something.

"You must have heard his voice. Don't your clans interact often?"

"Voices are much the same, nothing special about his,"

Zhuge Myeong replied dully. Murong Song chuckled, clearly not expecting a real answer.

"In any case, his talent is exceptional. They say he never misses a single session of training. He's so diligent that some say he borders on obsession."

"......"

Isn't that as it should be?

Jeong-un thought, if a swordsman didn't refine his swordsmanship daily, what else would he do?

It's not as if they had duties like he did.

He did not say this aloud, of course.

Soon they arrived at the arena.

By now, the crowd was so dense it was overwhelming.

Jeong-un muttered under his breath with a face showing his exhaustion.

'How could you ever find someone hiding among this crowd?'

Wasn't the Divine Thief said to be a master of hiding his identity?

If even Jeong-un felt this frustrated, how much more so would Shaolin, with so much at stake?

Following the group, they soon reached seats right at the front of the arena.

Their servants had reserved good spots in advance. Accepting the guidance without fuss, Jeong-un quietly sat beside Shin Soryeong.

As soon as they took their seats, nearby commoners jumped in surprise and quietly vacated the area.

No wonder, with martial artists and young men in fine silken clothes sitting close by. T

he young martial artists, on the other hand, seemed unbothered by the reaction.

"......"

They must have been used to situations like this since birth.

Jeong-un didn't want to draw unnecessary attention through any affected behavior.

It wasn't as if they were displacing anyone from assigned seats, or causing any real trouble.

He took it all in stride.

After all, he'd been through enough in the martial world by now.

At last, the duelists ascended the arena.

Namgung Hui was just as the rumors described.

He was the very image of a swordsman—a man who reminded one of a fine sword.

He wore the deep blue martial garb that symbolized Namgung Azure Heaven.

Beneath his broad forehead, his thick brows stretched straight like brushstrokes. More striking than his sharp features or straight nose, though, was the blade-like energy emanating from him.

Even though this energy had clearly been carefully restrained, its sharpness still radiated from his body. Most martial artists would not dare even to touch the sword guard before him.

'So this is what happens when a clan's refined martial arts and overwhelming talent meet.'

Jeong-un was purely impressed.

He'd not seen such a swordsman since that man called the Wudang Sword.

Now he understood why people compared the two.

Namgung Hui's opponent was a martial artist from Zhongnan, known as the "Dropping Pine Sword".

He was a handsome man with a tranquil, dignified energy befitting one who might be called an instructor.

Even with the Namgung heir before him, he showed no sign of being intimidated.

He too was clearly among the outstanding martial artists who had made their way to the semi-finals of this tournament.

The two exchanged the martial salute and placed their hands on their sword guards at the same time.

Then, the monk overseeing the duel shouted,

"Begin!"