Novel Martial Artist Lee Gwak - chapter 418
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Episode 418
Malice in the Guise of Kindness Is All the More Vicious (3)
Clang!
Lee Gwak’s strike was blocked by Jinghae’s sword.
Jinghae immediately tried to shift from defense to offense, but at that moment, his body was forced backward, skidding across the ground.
His palms felt as though they had been torn open. His insides ached as if struck by a massive hammer, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
‘Damn it!’
A single clash had left his entire body shattered. Even the internal energy he had painstakingly gathered now felt like it was scattering like dust.
Jinghae suppressed the nausea rising in his throat and unleashed the ultimate technique of the Taiji Sword Art.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
The sense of crisis—that he would be finished if he gave any more ground—drove him to pour every ounce of his strength into his swordmanship.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Sword and blade met in a relentless spray of sparks.
Jinghae could not comprehend it.
He had struggled, yes—but he had defeated the giant Po Cheon-wol, the Green-Forest Emperor.
He had assumed Lee Gwak was no different from Po Cheon-wol, victory would be difficult but inevitable.
But now, facing Lee Gwak directly, he realized just how complacent that assumption had been.
Lee Gwak was strong.
It wasn’t just that he had mastered an advanced blade technique. He wielded his blade with flawless precision.
‘So the rumors are true: When martial arts reach their peak, even the simplest movements become ultimate techniques…’
Lee Gwak’s movements were exactly that.
Lee Gwak was young.
He possessed near-limitless stamina and utilized his skills to their fullest potential—something that set him apart from Po Cheon-wol.
Above all, Lee Gwak had survived countless battlefields.
Unlike Po Cheon-wol, whose body had rusted from years of sitting atop his throne, delegating fights to his underlings, Lee Gwak had firsthand experience in life-and-death combat.
Practice in safety could never rival blood-soaked experience.
Moves impossible for the aging Po Cheon-wol, Lee Gwak executed effortlessly.
Drip, drip!
One by one, wounds appeared across Jinghae’s body.
Blood mist was scattered through the air.
For the first time, a flicker of fear crossed Jinghae’s face.
He had never been pushed to such extremes before.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he could be cornered like this.
He had always been the victor.
Among his martial brothers.
Among all the disciples of the Wudang Sect.
Even the elders had been unable to touch him.
He had won every battle, and victory had been a given. So, naturally, he had assumed this time would be no different.
But now, Lee Gwak was teaching him just how arrogant that belief had been.
Swish!
Lee Gwak advanced.
It wasn’t some elegant qigong technique like the Cloud Steps.
Just an ordinary walk. A relaxed, casual stride—as if he were out for a stroll. And yet, there were no openings.
Gwang Noh-ya had once said:
“Footwork is more than a foundation for unleashing techniques. All movement begins with walking. That’s why one must learn to walk properly. And what is proper walking? It is moving naturally. What does natural mean? It means responding to any external stimulus without resistance. Therefore, one who truly knows how to walk doesn’t need rigid, structured footwork—because the walk itself becomes flawless movement.”
That “proper walk” he described—Lee Gwak was demonstrating it.
Walking with the flow, moving naturally.
Because of it, there were no restrictions on his actions. He could execute any move he desired without delay.
Boom!
Lee Gwak’s simple strike, combined with his proper steps, unleashed a tremendous power.
Jinghae’s body was sent flying backward once more.
Thud!
He barely managed to regain his footing, standing on the very edge of the stage.
One more step back, and he would fall.
Losing by falling off the stage would be worse than being defeated on it. At least on the stage, he could retain some dignity. Falling would trample even that last shred of honor.
Jinghae bit his lip until it bled.
‘I can’t lose like this. The honor of Wudang rests on my shoulders—how can I admit defeat?’
At that moment, only one thing came to mind: the Wudang Sect’s supreme martial art, the Taiji Wisdom Sword.
He hadn’t yet mastered its essence.
He had only scratched the surface and was far from unleashing its true power. Still, it was his only hope.
Only the Taiji Wisdom Sword could break this deadlock and bring him victory.
“Huuu…”
Jinghai steadied his breathing and assumed the opening stance of the Taiji Wisdom Sword, and a tremendous aura gathered around his body.
The Five Elements arise from the Four Symbols, and the Four Symbols are born of the harmony of Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang are the Taiji—the principle from which all things originate and never deviate. I am the Taiji, and the Taiji is me. Thus, my sword shall sever all things that make up this world.’
Blue and red streams swirled about him, coalescing into a vivid yin-yang symbol.
In that instant, every Wudang disciple, including Elder Cheongsong, clenched their fists and shouted.
“The Taiji Wisdom Sword!”
“Ooooh! It’s really the Taiji Wisdom Sword!”
The sect’s supreme technique, unseen for over a century, had finally reappeared.
The mere sight of it was enough to leave them in awe.
With the Taiji Wisdom Sword, Jinghae’s victory seemed certain.
Some of the more passionate Taoists even raised their fists, ready to cheer.
Whoooosh!
An overwhelming aura now flooded toward Lee Gwak.
But at that moment, Lee Gwak wasn’t looking at Jinghae.
His gaze swept over the countless warriors watching from below, finally settling on the Wudang disciples.
Most of them had no idea of their leaders’ schemes—they were simply enthralled by the duel.
They might have been victims too, unaware of the truth.
They naturally believed Jinghae would win, bringing glory to Wudang.
Lee Gwak’s eyes turned icy.
Now, he would give them despair.
He would shatter their hopes and deliver them a nightmare.
Swoosh!
The moment the great serpent merged with his soul, Lee Gwak shot forward like a swallow taking flight.
Hiss!
No one there had ever heard a snake cry, but the sharp sound of his blade slicing through the air sounded just like one.
It sent chills down their spines.
Crack!
The blue and red qi split apart.
Jinghae’s eyes widened.
A killing intent so terrifying it made him shudder.
The Heaven Killing Blade.
BOOM!
The stage exploded.
“Agh!”
“Dodge!”
Even those seated on the raised platforms had to scramble back, while those near the stage fled in panic.
Debris shot out like hidden weapons, forcing the martial artists to defend themselves with their internal energy.
They could only regain their senses after the storm passed. When they did, their eyes snapped toward the spot where the stage had been.
Amid the ruins, two men stood facing each other in starkly different postures.
One looking down, the other looking up.
Lee Gwak stood tall, gazing down. Jinghae knelt on one knee, looking up.
A gruesome wound split Jinghae’s shoulder. Had it been any deeper, his arm would have been severed.
“Ah!”
“D-Did Wudang… just lose?”
Gasps escaped the crowd, including the Wudang disciples.
Despair washed over them.
The sight of Lee Gwak standing tall, unharmed, crushed their spirits. To them, he looked like a sura.
Slash!
“A fine match, Taoist Jinghae.”
Lee Gwak sheathed his blade and bowed respectfully.
Not a single wound scarred his body. This only deepened the Wudang disciples’ despair.
Although he appeared unharmed, Lee Gwak had also sustained significant internal injuries.
To subdue Jinghae in one strike, he had pushed himself beyond his limits. But he refused to show any sign of weakness.
Lee Gwak then clasped his hands toward the Wudang disciples. But none, not even Elder Cheongsong, could muster a response.
The shock of the unexpected outcome had left them numb.
After saluting the crowd, Lee Gwak turned to leave.
Then—
“W-Wait…”
Jinghae barely managed to squeeze out his voice.
“I… have not lost yet. W-Wudang has not been defeated.”
Lee Gwak paused and looked back. Jinghae tried to rise, using his sword as a crutch. But his battered body refused to obey.
Again and again, he struggled to stand, only to collapse.
The Wudang disciples and the crowd watched with pity.
Some moved to help him, but Elder Cheongsong raised a hand to stop them.
His brows trembled.
‘Heavenly Primordial Lord… Why have you given Wudang such another trial? Was my judgment wrong?’
He knew.
Using Lee Gwak as a stepping stone to elevate Jinghae’s reputation had never been the right path. But Wudang had endured for too long—they couldn’t afford to always take the righteous route. So, knowing it was wrong, he had still sought to sacrifice Lee Gwak for their rise.
But Lee Gwak’s martial prowess far exceeded his expectations. To the point where Jinghae, the one he had trusted so deeply, was no match for him.
‘This disaster is the result of my misjudgment.’
Moments ago, he had stood straight; now his back bent pitifully, as though he had aged a decade in an instant.
“Elder Brother…”
Elder Cheongung grasped Qing Song’s hand.
Today, Cheongsong’s skin felt unusually rough.
Cheongung’s heart was equally shattered. But as Wudang’s First Elder, he had to remain calm and assess the situation objectively.
‘If we join forces and kill him now…?’
For a brief moment, he entertained the horrifying thought before shaking his head.
Even if they ganged up on Lee Gwak, their shattered honor wouldn’t be restored. Worse, he wasn’t even sure they could win.
Jinghae was finally forcing himself to stand.
Blood gushed from his wounds, and his legs trembled like leaves in the wind.
Even in this state, he still intended to fight.
Jinghae saw himself as Wudang’s pride. His loss was Wudang’s loss—he couldn’t accept defeat.
Even if he had lost the battle, his spirit remained unbroken.
‘I can still fight.’
Gritting his teeth, he staggered toward Lee Gwak.
Lee Gwak stood like a statue, looking back at him.
His eyes were cold.
It was not the gaze of someone looking at an equal.
In that moment, Jinghae understood.
Lee Gwak had never seen him as a rival or a worthy opponent.
To him, Jinghae was merely someone attempting to challenge his throne—not someone worthy of standing at the same height.
“Guhk!”
Black blood dripped from the corner of Jinghae’s mouth.
Even then, Lee Gwak said nothing.
“……”
Everyone held their breath, watching Jinghae. They were waiting to hear what he would say.
Clang!
At that moment, Jinghae’s sword fell to the ground.
Simultaneously, he dropped to one knee.
“I… concede.”
The moment those words left his lips, sighs erupted throughout the arena.
The warriors looked at Jinghae with pity, while the Wudang disciples clenched their teeth, swallowing their humiliation.
Then—
“Keh-keh-keh!”
“Heh heh heh!”
A burst of laughter echoed through Mount Wudang, resonating as if the mountain itself were a giant bell.
“What the—?”
“Who’s laughing…?”
The laughter was imbued with such tremendous internal energy that it made people stagger.
‘A peak master!’
‘Does Wudang have someone like this?’
Even the envoys from the Seven Great Sects jolted to their feet in shock.
Mok Seon-wol gritted her teeth and turned toward the source of the voice.
It came from one of Mount Wudang’s nameless peaks.
For a brief moment, she spotted a tiny dot in the distance—before it rapidly expanded,
revealing a person’s form.
“Ah!”
“How… is that possible?!”
Those who followed her gaze gasped in disbelief.
Someone was flying from the opposite mountain peak toward Wudang’s grand arena.
It was common knowledge that humans couldn’t fly like birds. But the source of the laughter defied that belief, descending slowly from the sky.
It looked as though he were stepping down on clouds.
“The… perfected Cloud Steps…?”
Elder Cheongsong’s beard trembled.
