Chapter 814: Stick Out Your Neck, You Bastard! (4)

Namgung Hwang’s eyes widened in horror.

A colossal wave of energy descended toward him, darkening his entire field of view as if it were being engulfed in blackness.

“Guh!”

Namgung Hwang swiftly drew his sword, charging toward the incoming energy.

“I am Namgung Hwang!”

With a thunderous roar, Namgung Hwang’s sword cleaved the oncoming energy in two, a radiant, sun-like white aura splitting the darkness.

“Haaargh!”

Swoosh!

Enveloped in his brilliant sword aura, Namgung Hwang soared upward, cutting through the black wave, igniting the hearts of those who witnessed him.

However…

“Fool!”

The Black Dragon King’s crescent blade descended again, emitting an even fiercer surge of energy.

Swoosh!

“Haaargh!”

Namgung Hwang roared once more as he clashed with the oncoming energy.

The Black Dragon King's attacks proved why he was revered as the God of the Yangtze, but Namgung Hwang’s skills displayed precisely why he led the Namgung family, one of the Five Great Families.

But this wasn’t merely a duel to display individual prowess. And that was where their fates diverged.

Boom!

The black energy, split by Namgung Hwang's sword, continued hurtling downward, losing none of its momentum as it cascaded toward those below.

“Get out of the way!”

“Ahhh!”

The disciples of Shaolin and Wudang, terrified by the sudden attack from above, leapt aside with pale faces.

But this was no ordinary battlefield—it was a cliff. Here, an attack that might have been easy to dodge on flat ground had its power magnified tenfold.

“Aaah!”

“Nooo!”

Those unable to evade were caught in the energy wave, their blood spilling as they plummeted helplessly.

“Jinhui!!”

“Hye Myung! Hye Myung!”

Shaolin and Wudang, two of the most respected sects in the world, were helpless before the Black Dragon King's devastating attacks. The disciples climbing the cliff fell one after another, spilling blood.

What the boiling oil and arrows had failed to accomplish, the Black Dragon King achieved with a single stroke.

“You!”

Namgung Hwang’s eyes flared red with anger.

“Black Dragon Kiiiing!”

“Hahaha!”

The Black Dragon King let out a loud, triumphant laugh.

“That expression suits you well, Sword Emperor!”

Namgung Hwang clung to the cliff, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Not only Shaolin and Wudang but also his own Namgung family had suffered under the Black Dragon King’s attack.

Looking at those writhing in agony below filled him with a fire as hot as burning coals.

But Namgung Hwang couldn’t vent his anger just yet.

These were the forces of the Unorthodox Factions.

The Eighteen Strongholds of the Yangtze.

The Yangtze River Stronghold gangs he had encountered before were hardly worth considering.

Their skill level was nothing compared to the Namgung Sword Guard, and their leaders couldn't compare to the Namgung elders—they were even outmatched by the leaders of a single Namgung Sword Unit.

So yes, he had underestimated them.

But the Black Dragon King's aura shattered his arrogance in an instant.

‘The Black Dragon King.’

The true king of the Yangtze River's water gangs.

He was of a different caliber. At the very least, he was nothing like the other water gangs.

Namgung Hwang’s sword could slice mountains and rivers with a single strike, yet he could not fully sever the Black Dragon King’s energy.

‘How…?’

How could someone like this emerge among these crude people?

The orthodox sects cultivated every member, but in the unorthodox world, only those of extraordinary talent survived and rose to power. The reality of this was strikingly clear now.

“Namgung Family Head!”

Heo Do-jin suddenly shot up the cliff, passing Namgung Hwang like a bolt of lightning. The sight snapped Namgung Hwang out of his daze, and he clenched his teeth.

‘Am I… feeling fear?’

Seeing Heo Do-jin charge ahead made his blood boil with anger.

“Heoo Doooo-jin!”

Namgung Hwang roared again as he pushed off the cliff, ascending rapidly.

Right beside him, Beopgye from Shaolin was also swiftly following.

Heo Do-jin, Namgung Hwang, Beopgye.

The unmatched martial artists representing the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Families leaped up the cliff in pursuit of their unorthodox adversaries.

“Hahaha! You little brats!”

The Black Dragon King’s eyes shone with fierce excitement.

“If you want, I’ll take you all on!”

With a forceful kick, the Black Dragon King leapt off the cliff and plunged downward, his massive frame hurtling down like a falling mountain.

“How dare you!”

Heo Do-jin ground his teeth, readying his sword for an attack.

“Your opponent is me!”

A chilling voice interrupted him as a sharp sword aura aimed for his throat.

Clang!

Heo Do-jin deftly deflected the incoming strike, his eyes narrowing.

“The Magnate of Ten Thousand Coins!”

The Magnate, who had somehow descended the cliff, stood vertically against it, as if glued there, staring coolly at Heo Do-jin.

“Taking the head of Wudang’s leader is worth risking my life. A deal worth making.”

Heo Do-jin’s eyes grew cold.

A merciless profiteer.

The merchant of the underworld who traded everything.

The walking shadow of hell.

Many words were used to describe the Magnate of Ten Thousand Coins, but at this moment, one thought dominated Heo Do-jin’s mind.

“The Greatest Sword of the Unorthodox.”

“A title worth no more than a penny.”

Heo Do-jin readied his sword, glancing around.

Most of the fuses had been extinguished thanks to Chung Myung’s efforts, but a few still burned, creeping down the cliff.

But he had no choice.

The ominous aura emanating from the Magnate made it clear that turning his back would mean instant death. The palpable killing intent and overwhelming pressure bound his feet in place.

Even as Wudang’s leader, he had to risk his life against the Greatest Sword of the Unorthodox.

“Wudang’s Heo Do-jin! I’ll take your life!”

“Good. Let’s see how this goes.”

The Magnate and Heo Do-jin charged at each other across the cliff as if it were solid ground.

Boom!

Amid the shockwaves from the Black Dragon King and Namgung Hwang’s clash, Beopgye shot upward, his movement so fluid that he seemed to surpass even Heo Do-jin and Namgung Hwang.

‘We must take the top! We can’t afford more sacrifices!’

Just as Beopgye gritted his teeth and surged upward, a voice echoed from above him.

“A master of the Shaolin’s Nine-Fold Palm. Impressive.”

Out of nowhere, dozens of shadowy hands appeared above him.

Beopgye’s eyes widened.

Sending dozens of hand shadows was hardly difficult; even a first-generation disciple of Wudang could do it.

But each of these shadows took on a different form.

“Haaah!”

Beopgye waved his hands, summoning dozens of hand shadows that fanned out like the Thousand-Handed Kannon.

Boom!

The collision of shadowy palms forced Beopgye back, sending him stumbling down several paces.

“…”

Shock filled Beopgye’s gaze as he saw a figure descending the cliff with hands clasped behind his back.

“Still, I’m no slouch when it comes to movement skills.”

“…Cheon Myeon Soo Sa.”

The leader of the Hao Gate, Cheon Myeon Soo Sa, had blocked his path.

Beopgye clenched his fists.

Shaolin’s fist techniques were unparalleled in the world. And Shaolin’s palm techniques were undoubtedly supreme. Yet the clash just now had left a distinct ache in his wrists.

“…So that’s the infamous Thousand-Handed Technique?”

“It’s an honor, truly, for the esteemed Beopgye of Shaolin to acknowledge my skill.”

Cheon Myeon Soo Sa chuckled, as if delighted.

“But it seems the Shaolin’s Thousand-Handed technique isn’t as impressive as rumored. Whether it’s your technique that’s lacking, or simply the practitioner…”

“Amitabha.”

Beopgye’s gaze darkened.

“You’ll soon find out it’s neither, benefactor.”

“Hahaha! So, you monks are prideful, too? Then come at me!”

Cheon Myeon Soo Sa leapt upward, spreading his arms wide.

Beopgye also sprang up, his face set with resolve as he raised his palm to face him.

Two waves of energy collided in mid-air, casting a black shadow over the cliff as the silhouettes of hands covered the sky.

Each faction’s most powerful warriors clashed atop the sheer cliff.

Boom!

Boom!

The cliff erupted in thunderous explosions as shards of energy flew in every direction.

“Wh-what is that…”

“What am I seeing…”

Those climbing the cliff gaped at the sight above.

Tales of supreme masters were legendary, yet none of them had ever seen such formidable warriors clash with all their might.

It made sense.

For a century, the martial world had known relative peace. The last war between the unorthodox and orthodox sects had been over a hundred years ago.

Absolute masters were the pride of their sects. Each defeat cost too much. Therefore, they rarely engaged each other unless absolutely necessary.

But now, it was different.

To survive, to protect their sects, they had to crush their enemies.

Boom!

Sword auras clashed with saber energy, and fist techniques collided with palm strikes.

The impact of these forces shook the entire cliff, as though it might collapse at any moment, even though no explosives had detonated yet.

“That… is the realm of the absolute.”

Mu Jin, a first-generation disciple of Wudang, let out a hollow laugh.

Seeing the awe-inspiring clash of absolute masters with his own eyes filled him with a sense of inadequacy.

‘So that’s the true power of the sect leader?’

Shards of energy from the clashes between the swords and sabers carved deep scars into the cliff. Even with all his strength, Mu Jin doubted he could leave a mark like that, while the masters seemed to do it with mere residual energy.

Heo Do-jin’s sword was astonishing.

But the Magnate’s blade met it without yielding an inch.

And it was the same for the others.

It was a perfect stalemate.

The clash between the Black Dragon King and Namgung Hwang, as well as the contest between Beopgye and Cheon Myeon Soo Sa, held neither side back an inch.

Boom!

The entire cliff shook as if it were on the verge of collapsing, with fragments of rock falling like a landslide.

“Hold on tight!”

“It’s coming down!”

Mu Jin gritted his teeth, clinging to the cliff.

To break through and go further? Even a thousand lives wouldn’t be enough to survive that!

‘In a situation like this, what can we possibly…’

And then—

“Haha!”

A loud laugh that seemed completely out of place drew Mu Jin’s attention.

Turning his head sharply, he saw them.

Chung Myung, along with the Four Swords of Mount Hua surrounding him, racing up the cliff toward Jang Il-so.

“Did you polish your neck, you wretched bastard?!”

Mu Jin’s mouth dropped open in shock.

While everyone else’s attention and courage were frozen by the awe-inspiring battle, only one group—the Mount Hua Five Swords—continued advancing, undeterred, as if they belonged to that realm.

As though they already considered themselves part of it.

“The Divine Dragon of Mount Hua!”

Without realizing it, Mu Jin shouted, and at that moment, Chung Myung kicked off the cliff and soared upward.

“Jang Il-sooo!”

Like a lightning bolt, Chung Myung’s sword fell upon Jang Il-so from above like a thunderous strike.

“Haha!”

Jang Il-so let out a wild laugh as he raised his hand to block the descending sword.

Boom!

Rings on each of Jang Il-so’s fingers clashed with Chung Myung’s sword, creating an immense explosion.

Chung Myung’s face twisted.

Meanwhile, Jang Il-so wore a mocking smile.

Their eyes met in an intense, unspoken clash.