The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 164: An Unexpected Encounter - 1
Cheong-un hadn’t gone north toward Mount Jangbaek in search of Tale of Chivalry and Tempest, but instead headed south—without any particularly grand reason.
Even for martial artists, the journey from Hubei Province to Mount Jangbaek was dauntingly long. A simple round trip could take years.
Cheong-un had only received official permission to travel the martial world under the pretense of investigating Tale of Chivalry and Tempest. So he needed a more realistic route—one that wouldn’t waste precious time.
“Let’s follow the Yangtze River east by boat.”
Heading south from Wudang Mountain would bring him to the Yangtze, which flows into the Yellow Sea.
If he could first take a boat along the river to the sea and then follow the coastline by land—or better yet, catch another vessel heading toward Liaodong Province—he could significantly cut down the travel time to Mount Jangbaek.
Cheong-un had one more reason for heading south.
“I want to try once more to find the author of Tale of Chivalry and Tempest.”
The book had first surfaced in Wuhan, the capital of Hubei. Though his search with other Wudang disciples had come up empty, there was still a chance he might find the author if fate allowed.
And so Cheong-un was on his way to Wuhan—hoping for one last clue to the novel’s origin, or else to find a boat heading east.
—
“Taoist sir! Thank you so much!”
“No matter how many times we reported it, the authorities never did anything about the bandits, but for you to step in for ignorant folks like us... We’re truly grateful!”
“To think you drove away the Green-Bamboo Twins! They were extorting money from every shop in town! Taoist sir, we’re in your debt!”
Even as he carried out his assigned mission, Cheong-un never forgot the chivalry he had set out to embody.
Though his feet carried him toward Wuhan, whenever he saw the tears of common people, he knew how to stop and lend a hand.
“Taoist sir! Please! My child’s father crossed that mountain with a merchant group heading upstream, and he hasn’t returned!”
“He left with a caravan just a few days ago, but they vanished somewhere on that mountain!”
It turned out the area was riddled with traps set in advance by Tang Geo-ho to capture Tang Hwa-rin. And the chivalrous Taoist, unaware of this, had climbed the mountain to investigate the disappearances of those innocent travelers.
“My name is Cheong-un.”
The search for the author of Tale of Chivalry and Tempest and the actions of a true swordsman—these had led to this inevitable meeting.
---------
“W-Wudang Sect?!”
“How could a third-generation disciple of Wudang be here?!”
In Hubei, no martial artist could speak lightly before the name of the Grand Wudang Sect. Its name carried a crushing weight—especially to the black-clad assailants.
“Who dares commit such atrocities in the front yard of the Grand Wudang Sect?!”
Cheong-un looked upon the still-warm corpses with fury in his voice. His righteous anger made the nearest black-clad men instinctively take a step back.
“Sir! We are members of the Sichuan Tang Clan’s ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) Medical Hall! We were ambushed by the vicious Demonic Sect!”
One of the Tang Hall warriors quickly informed the unexpected ally of their situation.
“Lackeys of the Demonic Sect?!”
Between the Sichuan Tang Clan and these suspicious black-clad men, Cheong-un didn’t know the full story—but he knew without a doubt which side needed his help.
“No other Wudang Taoists in sight...”
The black-clad ones looked around nervously, letting out small sighs of relief when no additional Taoists appeared. Then they turned their eyes back to Cheong-un, trying to assess the situation.
Blue hair. Delicate face. A young Taoist barely past his coming of age. Probably stumbled into this place by coincidence during his travels.
“To walk into your own grave... Looks like we’ve got one more corpse to deal with today!”
They feared Wudang, yes—but not a baby-faced rookie. One of the black-clad men swung his sword at Cheong-un before he could even draw.
“Not so fast!”
With a short shout of disbelief, Cheong-un watched the sword come toward him. It was fast—no doubt. But he’d faced faster blades many times before.
In one fluid motion, he unsheathed his sword.
“Guh!”
In the blink of an eye, Cheong-un deflected the oncoming blade and sliced across his attacker’s throat.
“You bastard!”
“KRAAGH!”
When one fell instantly, the others lunged. Their blades were just as fast—but they met the same fate.
Post-initiative superiority.
He countered speed with composure. Using the Wudang Sect’s defensive sword techniques, he carefully tracked their blades—then struck decisively.
“Attack from both sides!”
“He’s just a rookie Taoist! He can’t handle a simultaneous assault!”
They weren’t wrong. Wudang swordsmanship was primarily defensive. Even if it surrendered the initiative, it maintained the upper hand. But Cheong-un was still a young disciple—barely past twenty.
No matter how well-trained he was, there were limits to what he could defend against.
Swords flew at him from every direction. The black-clad warriors closed in to attack all at once.
“The Eight Trigrams strikes first.”
But Cheong-un... was the first to move.
“GUAAH!”
“ARGH!”
The rookie Taoist wasn’t defending—he was attacking. That moment of carelessness was enough to break the incomplete encirclement in an instant.
---------
“He was actually capable...”
Thought he was a moth to a flame—but no. The strongest among the pursuers threw aside the Tang Hall warrior he had just killed and growled.
“Are you not ashamed to strike down the wounded like cowards? If you’ve got the guts, come at me directly.”
“How arrogant. But fine. I was going to do that anyway.”
The black-clad man approached confidently, as if walking into his own home, eyes locked on Cheong-un.
A Wudang swordsman who abandoned defense and moved into offense. He had mastered Wudang’s principles to the point where stance didn’t even matter. A level beyond typical swordplay.
It looked like Tai Chi Sword Art, but there was something unfamiliar about it. A new technique? A lie? Whatever it was, it worked—and that alone made him worth guarding against.
The black-clad man scanned the surroundings. The delicate balance that had been maintained until now was beginning to tilt... all because of this unexpected arrival.
If only they had more troops. But their forces had been split between pursuit groups.
What’s more, after back-to-back chases and battles, their numbers and stamina were depleted. Dragging this out would only increase the risk of losing their targets.
“End it quickly.”
For the greater plan, he would have to risk some danger. The black-clad man ignored the pain surging through his own body and ignited the demonic energy within.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
‘What immense energy.’
Cheong-un stared at the black-clad man shrouded in writhing demonic energy. The murderous aura made his skin crawl.
Run.
Was it the power of demonic energy? Or just primal fear in the face of something unknown? Cheong-un, confronted with demonic energy for the first time in his life, felt the urge to turn and flee.
They’re strangers. Not his seniors or disciples. No real connection beyond being members of the righteous sects. Why risk his life?
He heard a voice. Not his, and yet it sounded just like his own.
It’s okay to run.
His opponent had decades more experience than him. He could run now. Say the enemy was too powerful. Say he’d fight him another day. Say anything. Escape and survive.
But Cheong-un didn’t.
“This is just like Yun-hyeon’s moment.”
The final scene of Tale of Chivalry and Tempest Volume 1. A mysterious attacker ambushes a carriage—and the woman inside. Would Yun-hyeon have run away?
He’d read that book hundreds of times. Even without Volume 2, he could still imagine what would happen.
“I chose to become a swordsman of justice.”
To stand against injustice. To protect the weak. To walk the world without shaming the name of Wudang.
Turn away once, and you’ll always turn away. To steel his resolve, Cheong-un gripped his sword tighter. novelbuddy.cσ๓
“So you intend to endure. Amusing.”
The black-clad man sneered at him.
Cheong-un shifted his internal energy toward his head. Pure Taoist qi swept away the clouding demonic aura.
Was it the energy's influence? Either way, clarity returned. Temptation only needed a moment to win—but he hadn’t given it that chance.
He held his sword. He would not turn away.
The black-clad man struck first.
Cheong-un tried to counter with soft overcomes hard, the principle of yielding to suppress force. But—
“Tch!”
He grimaced. The blade pierced through his defense.
The softness of Wudang was not lacking. But his softness was. The opponent’s sheer force was enough to shatter it.
“This is all you’ve got?!”
The man jeered. Cheong-un gritted his teeth, parrying only by a thread.
At this rate, he’d lose. Unable to deflect the powerful attacks, he kept retreating. Barely staying upright, just barely deflecting each blow.
He needed to embody soft overcomes hard. But the reality was force breaks softness—hard breaks soft. Wudang’s swordsmanship wasn’t lacking—he was.
“I’m not strong enough. Then...”
He accepted it quickly—and decided.
Cheong-un stepped half a step forward. Just half a step—but that half-step crossed into the black-clad man’s domain. A space only those ready to risk their neck for justice could enter.
“Tricks? Against a tyrant’s blade, tricks are useless!”
But this wasn’t bravado. That half-step broke his opponent’s balance.
It wasn’t enough. His level wasn’t enough. He still couldn’t grasp Wudang’s full softness.
Should he give up? He hesitated.
No. He’d simply use a different sword.
From his fingertips, the technique he’d poured six months into learning began to unfold.
“The Eight Trigrams transforms.”
The sword that had been deflecting turned sharp—filled with powerful energy.
“A sudden hard blade? Laughable!”
Hard against hard. It was obvious whose power was greater. The weaker would be shattered. The black-clad man poured more demonic energy into his blade.
“The Eight Trigrams transforms—and never stops.”
“What?!”
From soft to hard. Then back to soft. The power inside Cheong-un’s blade made the man’s sword lose balance.
“You damn trickster!”
Enraged, the black-clad man unleashed his full force. His blade screamed toward Cheong-un.
One chance. If he let this slip, the battle would shift back.
“Stand firm like Mount Tai, and see clearly like still water.”
Cheong-un twisted slightly. The overpowered blade missed—barely grazing his robes.
The enemy’s sword veered off course. A fatal opening.
“The Eight Trigrams transforms once—and once becomes a thousand times. Even if I haven’t reached ten thousand...”
“You—what the hell did you—”
The man tried to recover, but—
“...it’s enough to bring Wudang’s sword into the world.”
Before he could move, Cheong-un’s blade—crafted by the Eighth Sect Leader himself—pierced his chest.
“Gah!”
Strength and weakness. In martial arts, resolving such a match might take time. But to decide to act righteously? A moment is enough. And a single moment was all it took to cross the line between life and death.
“Kegh... That... that’s not Wudang’s sword... You... you’re not from Wudang, are you?!”
Staggering, clutching the hole in his chest, he stepped back. He was keeping himself upright with internal energy, but it was clear—he wasn’t going to live.
“This too... is Wudang’s sword.”
“Wudang has unleashed a monster on the world... To not see the end of the great plan... such regret...”
He collapsed before he could finish his sentence.
*********
The situation reversed in an instant.
With Cheong-un and the Tang Hall members driving off the attackers, no more black-clad warriors came.
First wave repelled. Thanks to an unexpected ally, few were seriously injured. Hwa-rin was safe too, from what I could see.
“Can you stand?”
The soft-featured young Taoist named Cheong-un approached me and held out his hand.
“...”
I just stared at him for a moment. A swordsman who offers a hand exactly when needed...
It’s like seeing a unicorn. Or a girlfriend. I was stunned. So... this world does have some real wuxia spirit. Kinda touching, honestly.
“Are you alright?”
“Ah—yes! I can stand—ah!”
I tried to stand, but staggered again.
“Let me help you.”
With Cheong-un’s support, I got back on my feet.
“Is there something you wish to say?”
Why is he still looking at me like that? Wait—is this that kind of vibe? ...No, right?
He looked at me for a moment, then asked me something completely unexpected.
“I have something to ask. Are you, by chance... from Joseon?”
