Chapter 17
Chapter 17
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Black and White Sword Ghost (1)
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Let me tell you about my life on Earth. I was the type who made web novels and comics a hobby.
I'd been into them for quite a while. Back then, web novels weren't mainstream yet, so kids would come up to me while I was reading the tiny text on my phone screen and ask things like, "What's that?" or "What are you looking at?"
The point is, I had a solid history with web novels, which naturally led to strong likes and dislikes for certain clichés.
I hated scenes like this.
A protagonist who possesses or regresses into a story, monopolizes every opportunity and fortuitous encounter, then fails to understand or even scolds the original protagonist for being weaker than in the original work.
Of course, right? It's like a pig devouring all the food and then wondering why the dog looks so skinny.
And it made my blood boil even more when they'd snag the heroine meant for the protagonist using the exact same methods, then spout nonsense like, "Huh, why does she like me?" I wanted to jump into the story and scream a bucketful of curses right in their ear.
Hey, you idiot.
You're following the story to the letter.
So just leave things alone and everything will sort itself out.
Do what you need to and quietly exit stage left—how hard is that?
"...It's tough."
Yeah. It really was. Sorry about that.
I mentally apologized to my past self and glanced at Seo Yul-hye sleeping beside me.
Honestly, I was still a bit dazed. Setting aside appearances, how often had I ever earned this level of affection from someone else? I couldn't even tell how my actions came across to others.
So yeah, I still felt a lingering bewilderment about how things had turned out.
But one thing was crystal clear: it felt amazing. A beauty like this likes me—who wouldn't be thrilled? That'd be a problem in itself. She'd need therapy.
Screw the story getting twisted. Right now, it felt like I owned the world.
But that good mood deflated every time I thought about my plans ahead.
Seeing Seo Yul-hye lifted my spirits, only for thoughts of my derailed plans to drag them back down. Bipolar much? But it couldn't be helped.
The Diamond Buddha's Divine Armor nestled in Seo Yul-hye's embrace.
This item that was supposed to be with Dang Ha-eun was already a huge problem just by being here.
Considering the spirit of Dharma Grandmaster dwelling within the divine armor, I could roughly guess how she'd awakened without Demonic Cult help.
What puzzled me was why this was here.
As an actual artifact from martial world history, maybe the Sichuan Tang Clan had identified it and, realizing it belonged to Shaolin, returned it?
Did I not explain it was something I lent them?
Fine, let's say that's possible.
But then why would Shaolin hand it over to the Emei Sect?
"Geumseon Grandmaster and Jeongam Satae must be closer than I thought..."
"Uncle, you're awake? I can see your breath. It got chilly all of a sudden."
Games give you hidden info you can't know otherwise. Inside the rattling carriage. Seo Yul-hye, who had been leaning on my shoulder asleep, stretched her weary body. Winter had fully arrived, making the weather biting cold.
"Snow's coming soon, I reckon."
"You're right."
Looking out the window, the bare branches had shed nearly all their leaves.
Seo Yul-hye slyly hooked her arm through mine. When I looked at her, she made an excuse about the cold without me even asking. It was a surprisingly innocent reaction. Where had that bold side from before gone?
"I was in a rush back then. Felt like if I let go, I'd never see you again."
Her beaming smile was pure as first snow.
"Feeling more at ease now?"
"A little. Makes me want to do better, too. Gotta make sure you never even think of running again. It's a chance I fought for..."
"Heh."
I chuckled awkwardly at the sentiment, and she tossed out another line.
"More than anything, I like this pace. Tang Clan girls are best savored slowly. Think it's too late to start now?"
...What the hell was that? Better not overthink it. Shaking off the ominous metaphor, I turned my gaze outside. The carriage had crossed the mountains linked to Mount Emei and reached Shaanxi.
I had no clue anymore. What impact my actions would have on the martial world.
Come to think of it, I'd made plans, but things rarely went according to them. Back in elementary school, I'd toss my summer vacation schedule in the trash too. Tried being responsible this time, but here we are.
Whatever. This was my best effort.
I decided to relax.
The story had diverged a lot from the original, but results-wise, everything had worked out. Dang Ha-eun survived her crisis. Namgung Serin shed her burdens. And Seo Yul-hye... well, she woke up, right?
Life's full of endless variables and struggles to overcome them.
I told myself I was doing fine so far. Hope it keeps going smoothly, but that'll depend on me.
Good. With my thoughts sorted, my mind calmed. Next stop: Huashan Sect in Shaanxi. I set a small, achievable goal: arrive safely.
"Safely there, safely..."
Recalling my lately misfortune-plagued days, I muttered quietly.
Boooom!
The next instant, a chain whipped from the underbrush, ripping the carriage roof clean off.
Dim secret chamber. A few flickering lantern flames perilously lit the surroundings. At his feet lay the Blood King Division Leader's gruesomely slain corpse. The Grand Elder clicked his tongue. Too many headaches.
To think there was a poison even the cult's arts couldn't cure...
"Black and White Sword Ghost, huh. Unbelievable."
No matter that he was one of the Eight Cripples, he wasn't someone to lose easily one-on-one. Yet the Blood King Division Leader had vomited blood and dropped dead moments ago. This after investigating the report that his bandit branch, which had his back, was massacred. The culprit: a woman in pristine white mourning garb like Emei disciples, wielding a pitch-black sword.
Black and White Sword Ghost.
The moniker for the mysterious master recently active near Mount Emei.
No one knew her face.
She only killed evildoers.
And her brutality, even by blood-soaked martial artists' standards, was gaining infamy. They pop up sometimes. Natural-born killers raised by stuffy righteous sect fools, reduced to slaking their thirst this way.
If our side had found her, we'd have put that talent to good use.
Thud.
The Grand Elder kicked the corpse aside carelessly and sat back down. Such things were commonplace in the martial world. What mattered was the cult's grand undertaking proceeding uninterrupted.
"Something's off."
Things weren't going smoothly at all. Eerily so.
Even without luck on his side, if failures had plausible reasons, the Grand Elder would simply prepare the next plan.
But the reports from his subordinates were all absurd.
The Sichuan Tang Clan's Poison Phoenix suddenly using Shaolin's sacred relic, a late-stage disciple's sword qi shooting to the heavens like a peak expert, and Moon Phoenix Seo Yul-hye, deep in heart demon torpor, abruptly awakening overnight.
And the spy in the Namgung Family exposed by Dreamflower Pollen dust, no less.
Even in the demon qi-rich Ten Thousand Great Mountains, Dreamflower bloomed once a decade.
Something was afoot.
Judging thus, the Grand Elder summoned the originally planned Hoam Division Leader, instead dispatching the Flowing Slaughter Valley Lord. Overkill for mere late-stage disciples, but the vibes were off. A foreboding sense that something ominous lurked.
To shake off the unease, he'd resolve this thoroughly.
Unlike disposable division leaders, valley lords were peak experts at mid-Transformation Realm or higher—more than enough to kill any target, variables be damned.
"...Pity. You should've stayed dead quietly. So you're the mysterious variable the Grand Elder mentioned? Dying over one girl? No regrets about what's coming?"
Madman's rhetoric.
And he wasn't the only crazy part.
Chains wrapped around his body like clothing, a massive sickle gripped in hand connected to them.
To reiterate, no one but Demonic Cult wears such freakish getups.
Demonic Cult lunatic. Dangerous as hell, obviously.
The instant the carriage roof flew off, Seo Yul-hye and I leaped out.
Our feet glided through the fallen leaves. A year dormant like a maiden voyage, yet Seo Yul-hye—once hailed as the martial world's future in the Five Dragons and Three Phoenixes as Moon Phoenix—moved with ingrained poise. Her body remembered.
The tension was electric.
Judging by his aura, he was around Transformation Realm. With the Diamond Buddha's Divine Armor, we might balance out.
...What the—lunatic. Time to appraise the matchup?
As ingrained caution made me hesitate to draw, blade half-unsheathed—
"Feel the overwhelming power gap, foul villain."
Claaang!
A masked figure in white plummeted stylishly from the trees, swinging at the cultist. The blade, black as dipped ink, bore faint crimson streaks like blood. Weird. That sword should've been gone...
The madman reflexively blocked, then widened his eyes at the sight.
A booming voice erupted.
So you've appeared.
"Black and White Sword Ghost!"
"That's right. You won't leave here alive today."
Crusty, but a cool moniker. Seo Yul-hye, however, furrowed her brow, staring incredulously at the ghost.
"That's not..."
Ripped and soiled here and there, but the same garb shape as hers.
Familiar build and figure.
A year apart changed nothing; her sharp mind deduced the masked one's identity. Watching intently as the ghost clashed evenly with the madman, a name slipped from her lips.
"Dirty villain, feel the overwhelming difference in power. And accept defeat—death—obediently—"
"Seo Miryeo, little sister?"
"...?!"
The masked one's head snapped our way. Pupils quivered wildly within large eyes. Just a fleeting moment, then she swung back—but too late. I'd seen it.
The indescribable, colossal shame in those eyes.