Chapter 49: Rainy Alley Sword Hunt
[Event Triggered]
[Rainy Alley Sword Hunt]
[The only thing that can make it out alive is a single blade and a person!]
[Crush the opponent, bury his sword, extinguish his life force]
[Reward: Unnamed Han Sword quality improvement]
[Friendly Tip: Cutting guarantees profit, not cutting results in a small loss]
…
In the beginning, Bai Wei harbored no intent to kill.
Even when witnessing the task, he still harbored no intent to kill.
Until the other party revealed his identity, "Tennen Rishin-ryū, Shunan Menkyo, Fujiwara Matsudaira… The reason to kill you is simple, it is to avenge my sworn brother, the one you killed, named Yamazaki."
Bai Wei suddenly recalled, "Ah, so it was him."
"What is your school of martial arts?" Fujiwara Matsudaira asked.
"No." Bai Wei said nonchalantly. "People from Yingzhou like to indulge in those fancy and superficial styles."
"Don't people in the Ming Country also have different factions?"
"Then you can just call me 'Painless Abortion'."
"Hahaha… How arrogant!"
Fujiwara let out a low growl and swiftly raised the crimson umbrella in his hand, striking down forcefully. This move, in the realm of swordsmanship, is a quintessential high-level attack.
There is also a more fitting name for it… the "New Year's Greeting Sword Technique"!
The name is intriguing, but its power is impressive, not to mention the fact that the opponent wields a real sword!
Clang!
Bai Wei, with a swift motion, slipped the Ring-head Han sword from his sleeve and unleashed it, slicing through the rainwater. The blade swung, emanating a shimmering glow reminiscent of a crescent moon.
The clash and friction of the blade produced a metallic tremor, resonating with an ear-piercing tone that seemed to pierce the eardrums. The chilling aura emanating from the sharpened edge, reflected in the eyes, seemed capable of slicing through one's very eyeballs.
"Unbelievable!" Fujiwara was first taken aback, then burst into laughter, saying, "Where did you hide the sword!"
"Just now, that sword technique was not Tennen Rishin-ryū…" Bai Wei observed keenly, "It was Satsuma Shigen-ryū."
"Not bad, but what difference does it make? I have studied in numerous dojos, different schools are fundamentally insignificant to me!" Fujiwara's eyes gleamed with a cold light, filled with a hunter's thrill, and once again let out a strange cry, "Snap!"
He held the sword with both hands, pushing it down forcefully, and the sharp blade swiftly moved, slashing towards Bai Wei's left shoulder.
Clang!
Bai Wei shifted his position, utilizing the force to deflect, swiftly changing to a reverse grip on the sword, resembling holding a cane. He brushed past Fujiwara, the Han sword grazing his left arm, causing a tear in his sleeve. A crimson line appeared on the young man's arm, followed by droplets of blood, each the size of a bean, trickling from the wound. It was merely a superficial scratch, without causing harm to the underlying tendons and bones.
However, at the same moment, Bai Wei abruptly halted his figure.
As he brushed past, Bai Wei noticed Fujiwara's hands, and in that instant, he switched the sword he held from his right hand to his left hand.
The sword was raised high, intercepting Bai Wei's sidestep, and the sharp blade swept across, resembling a tiger's forceful swipe, a goose's vigorous wing beat, aiming to strike Bai Wei's chest.
Backstabbing sword!
Before Bai Wei's eyes, a chilling radiance blossomed, as he watched the sword approaching him with an unwavering and stern expression.
He directly discarded the sword.
With a swift motion, the Han sword slipped out from his sheath, freeing his left hand.
He tightly grasped Fujiwara's left wrist with his left hand, exerting force with a firm grip, causing the wrist bones to dislocate. Immediately after, he swiftly pulled and pushed, diverting the forward momentum away from the shoulder.
Fujiwara, a swordsman, unskilled in close-quarters combat, never anticipated the explosive force reminiscent of a heavy hammer bursting forth from within his embrace. His figure was sent flying, rolling like a wheel in the rainy alleyway, while his moonlit white kimono became soiled and damp with mud.
Mugen Shinmyō-ryū · Sword Taken.
Add…Eight Extremes, Iron Mountain Rely!
When it comes to the effectiveness of martial arts techniques, Bai Wei, being a skillful practitioner, never limited himself to swordsmanship alone. Instead, his movements became even more agile when disarmed from his weaponry.
Bai Wei decisively let go of the Ring-head Han sword.
Even though Fujiwara was caught in the technique of Sword Taken, his wrist bones nearly fractured, he still didn't release the sword.
"It seems that the sword is quite remarkable; you are unwilling to let go of it." Bai Wei picked up the Han sword.
"Hahaha…" Fujiwara stood up from the ground, with a smile on his face, and securely held his left wrist bone. "This is indeed a fine sword, of course, I wouldn't want to let go of it. However, you, on the other hand, can so easily discard your sword, yet you refuse to let go of that cat in your hand?"
The reason Bai Wei let go of the Han sword was to free up his left hand; his right hand had remained unused throughout.
Because he was holding the cat.
Fujiwara breathed a sigh of relief, saying, "This sword of mine was once wielded by a retainer of the Kojima Katsushige family, and it is a renowned ancient blade. In Yingzhou, the legends of Kojima Katsushige and the Demon Cat are known to all."
"Demon Cat…"
"Yes, this sword has once slain the Demon Cat that caused turmoil within the Saga Clan. As a result, the shape-shifting cat met its demise, without a doubt, by the very blade."
Fujiwara Matsudaira narrowed his eyes and uttered coldly, "Dispose of that dying old cat and devote yourself completely to battling me! I dare say, from now on, will you dare to fight with only one hand… certain death awaits you!"
As if resonating with Fujiwara's determination and killing intent, the ancient blade that has slain the Demon Cat trembled incessantly, emitting an illusion-like sound, brimming with heightened emotions.
In contrast.
Bai Wei remained silent with a composed expression, even gently stroking the ears of the cat with his left hand.
"Indeed, a lot of nonsense…"
"I don't have much time left, I'm still waiting to continue my journey."
"Please finish it quickly."
He still held the sword with his left hand.
This seemed to infuriate Fujiwara Matsudaira, as he sneered and, with both hands gripping the sword, assumed the distinctive opening stance of Tennen Rishin-ryū.
The tip of the sword drooped downward, slightly tilting to the right.
Tennen Rishin-ryū, Heiseigan.
Fujiwara Matsudaira sensed his own breath, and in the dojo of Tennen Rishin-ryū, which excelled in practical combat, only this technique truly caught his attention. It took him a full three years of secretly learning from others before he could grasp the essence of this move in the dojo.
From this point onwards, every sword stroke proved advantageous without exception.
It is a sword technique specifically designed to kill swordsmen, making it nearly unbeatable in one-on-one encounters.
He waited for the opponent to swing the sword, waiting for the moment when they entered the range of crossing swords and the blades collided.
Clang-!
He undeniably heard the sound, also confirming Bai Wei's sweeping motion with the Han sword. At that moment, a gleam burst forth in his eyes, and a frenzy of crimson danced within his features.
Receiving the blade, he upwardly flicked it, then downwardly cleaved!
The technique was performed in one seamless motion, with a sudden thrust as swift as lightning. The afterimages caught up with one another and merged into a single entity.
The blade erupted with a chilling aura that was almost on the verge of solidifying into a sword-like energy, capable of cleaving through steel and severing iron.
Fujiwara Matsudaira raised the corners of his mouth, ready to sheath his sword and embrace his victory.
In the next moment, a slight pang ran through his neck, prompting him to instinctively reach out and touch it, where his fingertips detected a trickle of blood.
…Eh?
…How could this be?
…When did I get struck in the neck?
…I clearly swung my sword, and I saw him swing his as well!
…But! Why is he still standing five meters away? How on earth did he manage to strike me?
His face was filled with astonishment, yet he remained speechless. Soon after, his gaze shifted sideways, and he began to plummet.
Until the moment his head hit the ground and consciousness slipped into oblivion, he only then became aware of…
There was not a single drop of blood on Bai Wei's blade.
Without staining the blade, kill from a distance.
"Ah…"
"It's the aura of the sword."
Fujiwara finally realized that he was challenging an anonymous swordmaster. His eyes dilated, a mixture of contentment and unwillingness engulfing him as he succumbed to eternal slumber.
Along with his severed head, the ancient blade he wielded, that had once slain the Demon Cat, shattered into pieces.
The lingering spiritual unrest on the sword struggled, but soon it was engulfed by the pitch-black shadows cast by the Han sword.
"Tennen Rishin-ryū… Well, I must admit, the hype surrounding it is quite extraordinary. I find myself somewhat intrigued," Bai Wei shifted his gaze away, "But let's forget about it. Who actually takes legends for real?"
The Han sword, having feasted to satisfaction, seemed to bear an additional inscription. Bai Wei casually retrieved it and tucked it back into his sleeve.
Bai Wei, taking hold of the red umbrella that was mistaken for a scabbard, cradled the dying black cat and vanished amidst the rain curtain.
