If You Are The Opponent, I Should Yield. (1)

Kwang!

His heart pounded like a mad drum.

‘This is….’

Wooooooong!

Those who charged screaming, those who cowered and retreated, those who were at a loss, and those who shouted at the top of their lungs.

All their hostility and murderous intent poured out at once.

But Namgung Do-Wei did not shrink; he only raised his momentum further.

He felt every hair on his body stand on end.

An exhilaration stronger than fear enveloped Namgung Do-Wei.

Mastery is about piling up and piling up again.

You repeat the same thing endlessly for such a long time that the word ‘most difficult’ fits.

It’s like building a tower that reaches the sky out of paper so thin it seems impossible.

Everything accumulated over those long hours is exploding now.

The Blue Sky Divine Sword, the symbol of the Namgung Family’s head.

The sword that had been in Namgung Hwang’s hand now radiated an intense white light from Namgung Do-Wei’s grip.

Namgung Do-Wei lifted the sword, pushing his internal qi into it.

‘No!’

Namgung Hwang’s back flickered before his eyes.

If it had been Namgung Hwang, he would have sliced down in an instant and cleaved everyone blocking his path in two.

But he was not Namgung Hwang.

At least not yet.

He might reach that level someday, but now it would be impossible.

Even if it were possible, it must not be imitated.

The internal qi he had pushed in excessively withdrew in an instant.

Namgung’s sword was nothing if not straightforward.

It draws out its power along a single straight line to crush the enemy.

Namgung Do-Wei had never doubted such a Namgung sword.

He firmly believed that was the sword one who led the Namgung Family must wield.

But not now.

Mount Hua’s sword, the Tang Family’s hidden technique, and Im So-Byeong’s fan had taught him otherwise.

They showed him that pulling everything out and pressing down was not the only righteous way.

‘Right way’ does not mean a single method.

It means where it is aimed.

Even if his sword did not fit the Namgung name, if his intent was not shameful to the Namgung name, his sword was still righteous.

Goooooh!

Internal qi befitting his ability began to condense at the tip of his sword.

Preserve as much power as possible while minimizing waste.

Not merely to crush the enemy.

A strike imbued with the will to swing one more blade plunged from sky to earth.

Kwaaaaaaang!

A white projectile landed in the midst of the enemy ranks.

Namgung Do-Wei charged through the rising dust.

Kwang!

He slammed into the chest of a half-unconscious man and instantly severed the neck of another who was hastily raising his shield.

‘One more step!’

Not all the enemies had been dealt with yet.

Before, he would have launched one more stroke here to utterly break the enemy.

But Namgung Do-Wei instead drove his foot into the ground and surged forward.

The Four Sects Alliance warriors, momentarily bewildered, reflexively thrust their spears at Namgung Do-Wei.

Their training was evidently exceptional; even their reflex thrusts were razor-sharp.

But at that moment.

Kagakang!

The spear thrusts flying at Namgung Do-Wei bounced off in an instant.

“Keep going!”

Baek Cheon, who had defended from behind, cut down those aiming at Namgung Do-Wei’s flank in one breath.

Namgung Do-Wei was already running forward before Baek Cheon’s words had even finished.

Now he understood how trust is built.

Someone’s character? Lofty ideals? Their status? Ridiculous.

Outside the battlefield those might matter, but on the field they don’t hold even a grain of meaning.

Within this battlefield trust is only one thing.

Knowing what is stacked in the other’s blade. That is what believing means.

Baek Cheon would not stand by and watch Namgung Do-Wei’s flank be pierced.

Hae Yeon would not simply watch enemies leap over Namgung Do-Wei’s head.

Namgung Do-Wei was certain.

If he grew weary, someone would gladly take his place; if he fell into danger, Chung Myung would surely rush to him.

‘I don’t need to shout myself into being trusted.’

Just as he judged them, they judged him.

So if you want to give trust, prove what you’ve piled into your sword, not brandish and boast about what you hold.

Kwoooong!

Namgung Do-Wei’s foot slammed down as if to shatter the earth.

At the same time his waist twisted fully and turned backward.

Lower body still, upper body twisted back.

Such a stance doesn’t exist in the Iron Sword Twelve Forms, the Blue Sky Boundless Sword Technique, or the Emperor Sword Style.

So naturally it did not suit the Namgung name.

You must not take your eyes off the enemy.

Straighten the waist and face the enemy head-on.

This is an absolute principle in Namgung swordsmanship that must never be broken.

But at this moment Namgung Do-Wei broke that principle himself.

Taking your eyes off the enemy invites crisis upon yourself.

But Namgung Do-Wei could afford that now.

He could do it as much as he liked.

Because someone who would prevent that crisis was certainly at his side.

Paaaah!

The sword qi Baek Cheon sent like lightning swept away the spears surging toward Namgung Do-Wei one after another.

Hearing the metallic clangs ahead, Namgung Do-Wei gripped his sword tightly.

“Aaaaaaah!”

Paaaaaaht!

From his rotating body, a dazzling white light burst forth like a half-moon.

A tremendous sword qi, like a pouring waterfall, flew horizontally toward the enemies.

“Huaaah!”

Those in front flinched and raised their shields.

Kwang!

With a violent blast, the hands gripping the shields were twisted.

The impact was so great their wrists looked about to snap, and blood gushed up into their mouths.

‘They, they still managed to block it….’

But at that moment the shield-bearers opened their eyes wide.

Kagagagagak!

Sword qi sliced through shields made of solid iron.

“Ah, no…!”

Kwaaaaaaa!

The white blade that had split a thick, person-height shield like paper soon pierced a human body.

Even a three-year-old would know what followed.

Taaang!

With a snap like a thick rubber band, the split body flew like a kicked ball.

It was a sight that shattered enemy morale and left even the allied troops following them aghast.

“…sahyung. If I’m born again next time, please send me to Namgung.”

“You said Shaolin before.”

“That fellow crossed the line too. What is that?”

“Shut your bullshit and get out of here, you punk!”

“Ugh, seriously!”

Jo Gul leapt lightly over Namgung Do-Wei’s momentarily weakened head and dashed forward.

“I don’t want to stand in front of those two! Give me a mask to cover my face or something!”

Jo Gul strained and lifted his sword with a yell.

His mouth chattered nonstop, but his eyes were terrifyingly calm.

When Jo Gul suddenly burst forward, the stunned enemies reflexively raised their spears.

But Jo Gul did not miss the gap.

“Your stances are too wide, you idiots!”

Swaaaaaak!

Jo Gul’s sword split into dozens and flew forward swiftly like the Tang Family’s hidden blades.

The sword images pierced without mercy through the openings the opponents made with exaggerated movements against Namgung Do-Wei.

Pook! Pook!

Even at full skill it was a swift sword technique hard to defend against.

Facing such a blade from a disordered stance, the outcome was as certain as seeing fire.

“Graaah!”

“Ugh!”

Those with holes blown through their bodies grabbed their wounds and staggered back.

Just as Jo Gul chased and prepared to strike again, someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

“Huh?”

Namgung Do-Wei shoved Jo Gul back and stepped forward to take his place.

“No, young lord! Don’t overdo it…”

Telling him not to overdo it kept bothering him.

‘Those damned Mount Hua guys.’

They act as if it’s natural for their bones to break or flesh to tear, yet they look at others gasping at the side with worried eyes.

The distrust in those looks isn’t only because Namgung Do-Wei is awkward. He knew that.

In their eyes Namgung Do-Wei would still look like a chick that’s only strong.

But they too did not gain their experience crossing death lines from the very beginning.

They too had a first time and a period of inexperience.

‘You held swords even at those times.’

They weren’t guarded by someone saying it was okay to do just so then, like now.

So…!

‘Don’t underestimate people!’

Namgung Do-Wei pushed his internal qi into his sword.

If they had confidence, he had the pride of being a Namgung heir.

It was less prideful now and more like a burden on his shoulders, but Namgung Do-Wei had never once forgotten that pride.

He was not so comfortable as to only gingerly follow a path someone had cleared for him.

If he had to, he’d charge into rough places, into bramble that would tear flesh.

“Taaaaaaap!”

He shook his sword once more.

Kwaaaaaang.

The enemies caught in the explosion of sword qi were flung out without even a scream.

“You bastard!”

But the successive bursts of sword qi were no longer uniform as before.

There arose those who endured that qi and charged.

As Namgung Do-Wei’s knees wobbled for a moment, someone ran up from behind and intercepted in front of him.

“Big shot, huh.”

Jo Gul, or rather, Chung Myung?

Neither.

Swaaaaaak!

Ten flying blades shot from Tang Pae’s two hands and sliced the air.

The Twelve Flying Blades.

A Tang Family technique that began in the Tang Family and was perfected by Tang Bo’s hand.

The absolute flying-blade technique, completed on this very Southern land with much bloodshed, began to cut through the battlefield again.

Not twelve, but ten flying blades.

Though it could not be compared to the Twelve Flying Blades that Tang Bo displayed, it was more than enough to face ordinary Four Sects Alliance warriors.

Kwatuk! Kwatuk! Kwatuk!

The flying blades plunged through the foreheads of the charging men all the way to their hilts.

They died instantly, unable even to utter a groan, and collapsed backward.

Blade-throwing is truly a terrifying martial art.

Once emitted, a flying blade is hardly ever retrievable.

Therefore those who use flying blades can never show their true prowess in duels or sparring.

The true power of flying blades is revealed only on the battlefield.

A battlefield where there is no need to preserve the opponent’s life while fighting.

Moreover, minds easily falter on the battlefield.

With explosions and screams all around, what could be more terrifying than a flying blade stealthily approaching?

Chwarak!

At a flick of his finger, the blade that had pierced an enemy skull flew through the air and was drawn back into Tang Pae’s hand.

“Do-Wei!”

“Yes!”

“Go!”

Tang Pae stepped aside.

As if yielding the front to him.

And Namgung Do-Wei immediately threw his body toward the path Tang Pae had opened.

‘If I can’t even do this!’

He stamped the ground hard.

His sword shot up into the sky.

The sword tip pointed as if to pierce the vast expanse above.

‘I wouldn’t be able to face my father later!’

A descending strike cut the world strongly and grandly.

Sword qi, as if Namgung Hwang had manifested, transformed into a massive white light and swept away those blocking the way.

Kwaaaaaaa!

The strike split the battlefield in two. The white sword qi bloomed like a vision and vanished in an instant.

To those leading the charge, a clear path leading through a sharply divided long valley appeared distinctly.

“It’s opened!”

“Run straight through!”

Just as Namgung Do-Wei gritted his teeth to run out.

“Amitabha.”

Someone lightly tapped his shoulder and stepped forward.

“Now it’s my turn, benefactors.”

Having poured out his internal qi, Namgung Do-Wei panted and let out a short laugh.

“If you are the opponent, I should yield.”

Shaolin’s foremost prodigy, Hae Yeon, unusually stern-faced, sprinted forward.