Chapter 261: Emergence of the Divine Dragon

Typically, as a martial artist's realm advances, their insight sharpens accordingly. This is because masters view the world from a broader perspective.

Just as Venerable Monk Muhak discerned Qing's Heavenly Slaughtering Star merely by meeting her gaze—something Ximen Surin only realized after taking her pulse.

In contrast, Tang Nanah checks Qing's pulse every time they meet, but invariably says something like, "Yep, yep. Healthy again today?"

Thus, the gaze of the Greatest Under Heaven, Venerable Monk Muhak, held an amount of information unimaginable to ordinary people.

And that Venerable Monk Muhak saw Qing's Demonic Arts—saw the cursed lightning tendrils of the Purple Lightning Demonic Art, one of the accursed Ten Great Demonic Arts under Heaven.

His eyes widened as he spoke.

"Oho. Such pure Daoist True Qi. A fleeting path connecting heaven and earth. Truly worthy of being called an Immortality Art. But what technique is this? Did the Divine Maiden Sect have such a martial art?"

Of course, acquiring more information than others doesn't always lead to the correct answer.

The Wudang Sect Leader, Chaegeon Jinin, responded.

"Doesn't it feel similar to the Violet Mist Divine Arts?"

At that, the master of the Violet Mist Divine Arts, Mount Hua Sect Leader Perfected Master Yuha, snorted and retorted.

"Hmph. What nonsense. Why not just call it the Purple Lightning Demonic Art while you're at it?"

Chaegeon Jinin shot back.

"You called her the Divine Sword of Crescent Moon and the future Greatest Under Heaven—you were doting on her like a fool. I thought she might be some hidden daughter you taught the Violet Mist Divine Arts to."

"Doting like a fool?" Perfected Master Yuha countered. "If you have eyes, then look. Is that the kind of prowess you'd expect from a child barely twenty years old? You should sharpen your own insight."

"What did you say?" Chaegeon Jinin demanded.

"Hmph." Perfected Master Yuha scoffed.

Mount Hua and Wudang, rivals for the title of the greatest sword sect under heaven, had a long history of enmity, and their Sect Leaders bickering was practically tradition.

Regardless, Perfected Master Yuha's boasting, as if genuinely showing off a hidden daughter, was indeed grating. It was all less about praising a Divine Maiden Sect disciple and more about flaunting his own discernment.

So, Chaegeon Jinin watched Qing's match with a displeased expression.

Amidst this, Muhak let out a curious hum, "Hmm?"

Something… that sword style… I feel like I've seen it somewhere.

Definitely something… unsettling. That aura feels almost… sinister.

It was then.

Chaegeon Jinin, watching Qing's match intently for any flaw, clicked his tongue.

"For a child of the Daoist path, every move she makes is a truly vicious Killing Sword. Her energy may be pure like a Daoist's, but the one wielding it acts like an Asura demon. Can she ever achieve true mastery like that?"

While Rakshasas were divine guardians who submitted to Buddhism, an Asura Rakshasa referred to the bloodthirsty demons from before their conversion.

Perfected Master Yuha countered.

"If she wields a sword, is it not a Killing Sword? What, is it a Living Sword? Seeing such pure Daoist blade energy and still calling her an Asura demon. Why not just say she's using the One Hundred And Eight Asura Sword? Or maybe, since her hands are so delicate, say she's using the White Hand Demonic Arts? Why not just curse her, saying she has the face of a cannibal demon destined to gather all Ten Great Demonic Arts?"

If Qing had heard him, she might have advised him to quit the Daoist temple, set up a shrine, and become a shaman, given his uncanny accuracy.

One could say his insight truly matched the pride he took in it.

Chaegeon Jinin felt embarrassed. His dislike was for Perfected Master Yuha ; he held no ill will towards the Divine Maiden Sect disciple.

"Tch. Who said anything about Demonic Arts? I just said her killing intent is a bit strong. Is a sword imbued with killing intent something a Daoist should wield?"

"She's using the sword for its intended purpose," Perfected Master Yuha replied. "Isn't that better than some charlatan claiming to save people with a blade like they're a physician?"

Mount Hua's sword arts were beautiful but also notoriously deadly Killing Swords. In contrast, Wudang's sword arts merely deflected attacks without directly harming, leading them to boast about wielding a "Living Sword."

"Ahem. How can you act like children in the presence of seniors?" the Kongtong Sect Leader interjected, pretending to mediate. "Both of you, please restrain yourselves. Besides, Perfected Master Yuha is right. If you hold a sword, shouldn't you stab with it?"

This was because Kongtong's martial arts embraced the extreme path of the Killing Sword—sacrificing flesh to take the heart.

Hearing this, a Zhongnan elder sitting nearby nodded.

"Look at these practitioners of killing arts, all sticking together. Oh, Elder Muhak. The path of saving lives is truly difficult."

Chaegeon Jinin appealed to Muhak for help. Shaolin's martial arts were for saving lives—although whether breaking all of a villain's bones, severing their meridians, throwing them into the Repentance Cave, and leaving them barely breathing counted as "saving lives" was debatable.

"Hmm-hmm," Venerable Monk Muhak cleared his throat. "Still, wasn't Chaegeon Jinin going a bit too far mentioning the Ten Great Demonic Arts?"

Venerable Monk Muhak, already charmed by Qing, the 'Old Man Killer', merely gave a light rebuke, telling him not to joke about the Ten Great Demonic Arts.

And then, Amitabha… what was I thinking just now? That child, Ximen Qing… why did her martial arts seem so familiar?

"Senior! How could you…" Chaegeon Jinin protested. "Huh? But wasn't he the one who mentioned the Ten Great Demonic Arts? Why scold me?"

"Haha, you fool," Perfected Master Yuha teased him. "This is Yin-Yang Tai Chi. You still have much to learn. One should strive to see the good in people, yet you only focus on flaws."

"Keuk."

Chaegeon Jinin clenched his fists in frustration.

To be defeated by the logic of Tai Chi from an ignorant Mount Hua brute… could there be a greater humiliation in the world?

<Read at Celestial Pavilion>

Qing's palm strike headed towards Gongson Yoye's solar plexus. Realizing it belatedly, Gongson Yoye leaned forward, offering her body. The sharp attack aimed at her solar plexus ended up striking her right breast with a harsh smack instead.

It was a strategic decision to offer her chest instead of her solar plexus.

Gongson Yoye let out a choked gasp of pain. Ah, that must really hurt. Qing faltered, slowing her assault.

In a duel to the death, the match would have already been decided.

The White Hand Demonic Arts were inherently vicious, designed to tear apart Qi and blood with an insidious internal strike the moment contact was made.

The insidious cold venom of the White Hand, leaving permanent scars on Qi, blood, and the dantian.

But Qing couldn't bring herself to do that to Gongson Yoye, so she had only been striking with the form, already having hit her limbs several times.

If this were a duel to the death, Yoye's internal energy flow would be tangled by now, her Qi and blood failing to circulate, causing her to stagger. But Qing couldn't exactly tell the referee, 'Hey, she's taken several hits from the White Hand Demonic Arts, can you make a judgment?'

So, is this serious?

"Hoo… Hoo…"

Gongson Yoye looked like she had just stepped out of a bath. The fight itself was intense, but using Innate True Qi seemed to consume a great deal of stamina.

Yet, her expression remained bright.

Qing couldn't understand.

Why, why does she look so thrilled?

Even while burning away her own lifespan.

"Yoye, you look exhausted," Qing observed.

"Hoo-ook! No. I can keep going. Hyaaah!"

Bang! With a powerful stomp, Yoye's form blurred and vanished from sight.

But after over forty exchanges, Qing's eyes were accustomed to it. She took two steps to the side and twisted her body slightly.

Thanks to the faculty of the Awakening Divine Art, she could roughly sense what was happening within a chi of her exposed face and hands, even without looking.

Gongson Yoye's extended Sword Energy shot past Qing's neck like a beam of light, missing widely.

Qing raised her sword to meet the Sword Energy, and just like that, Gongson Yoye's Sword Energy vanished. Then, from a distance, it reformed into a giant fan shape, rushing towards Qing to bisect a wide area.

The Sword Energy of the Emperor Xuanyuan Sword, adjustable in length at will, was tricky to deal with. It was an example of how advantageous it was for a martial artist to control distance as they pleased.

But then Gongson Yoye suddenly rushed towards Qing, closing the distance tightly. It was a foolish move, willingly abandoning her advantage of range.

In fact, most of the hits Gongson Yoye had taken were from these reckless attempts at close combat.

Given the significant difference in their inherent strength, Qing unilaterally benefited whenever they clashed. Like this.

Clang! Sparks flew as the dull blades collided.

Gongson Yoye's strike carried the force of her full-speed charge, but Qing simply stood her ground and blocked it calmly.

Following the laws of inertia, Gongson Yoye's sword and body came to a halt, only sticky beads of sweat flying off her like a light drizzle.

Well, what are you doing? Faster, more quickly.

Even without words, Gongson Yoye's message, her intention, was conveyed through the sword.

Don't hesitate, let's play more.

Let's run, roll, swing, hit, and get hit together. Let's have fun.

Despite being drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, Gongson Yoye conveyed this with a bright smile, revealing her teeth.

I… I don't understand. Yoye, what makes her so happy?

I think I hit her pretty hard. Doesn't it even hurt?

But Gongson Yoye was simply relentless. Her movements were almost like a courtship, a temptation saying, 'Aren't I right here? Will you still not swing your sword?'

Qing thought she understood now.

A loner who spent her whole life training alone in a training ground. But Gongson Yoye's past wasn't a painful memory.

Her expression was that of someone who affirmed the hardships that ordinary people couldn't endure, acknowledging that the past made the present possible.

Isn't that why we are crossing swords like this?

I am giving my all like this. Just as I always have, every moment.

Burning her own life force yet finding sheer joy in it, Gongson Yoye's expression in this delightful moment was truly dazzling.

As if borrowing a bit from tomorrow to enjoy today is such a big deal.

For Gongson Yoye, martial arts were the only thing she possessed in life, and precisely because of that, it was joyful.

But, what about me?

For Qing, martial arts were intertwined with painful memories.

Falling into an unknown world in an unfamiliar body, despised, persecuted, and ridiculed—it was the only way to survive, the path to life, because she had to live.

For Qing, martial arts were a means of taking.

The back alleys of the Central Plains were too harsh a gutter for compassion to take root for either you or me. In that wilderness where everyone was hungry, she only learned to take, as there was nothing to share or yield.

She still vividly remembered it—the sensation of choking the life out of someone, the despair of that moment, the intuition that she had crossed a line she could never return from, that this feeling would remain like a lifelong stigma.

But it didn't turn out that way.

Thinking back now, what was the big deal about killing one guy who deserved it? He beat a child to death over a few stolen coins. Getting rid of trash like that should have been something to be proud of. Why did I make such a fuss?

It was an embarrassing memory of running away, shamefully sobbing while clutching a single spoil of war.

Ah. Right. Moonlight Sword, Number One.

It was the first thing Qing had taken after killing another person. More accurately, it was the thing she killed for.

Everyone in the back alleys was trash, a den of people who deserved to die anyway, but the reason she specifically killed that man was because she wanted a sword. Her skill was swordsmanship, but without a sword, what could she do?

A sword broken in half and rusted. A piece of scrap metal nobody would want even if given freely.

Qing killed a person to possess that piece of trash.

My Moonlight Sword Number One. No, it was the first, so it wasn't even Number One back then.

My Moonlight Sword. My treasure.

She used it until it completely crumbled, pieces falling off even with a touch. She carefully buried her broken treasure, just the hilt remaining, in the mountains near Jianping, even making a grave for it.

And as if that wasn't enough, she stood before its grave and promised that all her future swords would be Moonlight Swords.

Suddenly, her Master's words came to mind.

A single sword held within the heart.

Ah. Right. I'd forgotten the glorious ancestor of the Moonlight Sword for too long.

A smile touched Qing's lips.

That single sword she obtained was so precious that she hugged it tightly when she slept, careful not to damage the blade, never even attempting to slash with it.

Back then, it truly felt like she could do anything with just one sword.

Suddenly, the memory returned to her hands.

The balance was terrible, the hilt sticky and damp with grime, but thankfully, the broken cross-section was very sharp.

Back then, she didn't have any Demonic Arts.

Just the Yue Maiden Sword Sutra. It was the only swordsmanship she possessed.

My sword. My swordsmanship.

In this barbaric, primitive medieval land of the Central Plains, it allowed her to think about tomorrow.

It helped her hope that things would eventually get better.

Qing naturally began to execute the Yue Maiden Sword Technique.

First Form.

Nang-a Seubmok. Wandering Child Picks Up a Stick.

Qing's sword traced a bizarre trajectory. To be precise, it was less bizarre and more clumsy.

Like a child who found a long stick and swung it around excitedly—without subtlety, utility, or purpose, just swinging for the pure joy, the discovery of primal fun inherent in humans.

Just a long, straight stick.

In the child's eyes, it must have been more enviable than the greatest treasured sword under heaven.

Just as her Moonlight Sword Number One had been to her.

Gongson Yoye hastily twisted her body away from the suddenly extending sword strike. Because it was a sword technique devoid of any subtlety, it felt unfamiliar and difficult to counter.

Swinging and stabbing, darting left and right meaninglessly, yet suddenly threatening, coming up chillingly under her chin.

Gongson Yoye looked at Qing in amazement.

Her affectionate gaze seemed to ask, 'Did you still have hidden sword techniques? Just how amazing are you, Young Lady Ximen?'

But Gongson Yoye was surprised once more.

Because she couldn't meet Qing's eyes.

Seeing Qing, eyes closed, lips curved in a gentle smile, scattering sword strikes as if dancing lightly on her feet, Gongson Yoye held her breath as much as possible, carefully muffling even her ragged gasps.

She couldn't possibly disturb a swordmaster lost in a state of non-self.

<Read at Celestial Pavilion>

(T/N: This chapter got me like... beautiful ahh sword swings, beautiful ahh emotions, beautiful ahh life reflections. Peak fiction fr. 😫🙏)