Chapter 24
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: Dharma Ecstasy
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So-hyang observed the sword, too absorbed to even tend to the burns on her hands or compose herself.
Despite the insane act of tempering and forging the sword with lightning, as if she'd devoured the laws of physics whole, the finished blade was utterly perfect.
From the blade and guard to the hilt, every part formed a single seamless piece of metal.
It felt so natural, as if it had existed in this form since being mined from the earth—impossible to believe it was man-made.
Aside from its longsword style, unfamiliar to the people of the Central Plains, it was a plain sword without patterns or decorations.
What was peculiar was its color.
A longsword of pure white, every part dyed snow-white without a trace of luster.
"...How did it turn this color?"
Titanium reacts with oxygen at high temperatures to form titanium dioxide, turning white and even used as a paint pigment.
"But not like this."
A matte surface like fine porcelain baked by a master artisan, yet an edge keenly honed and vivid.
Touch it, and the texture was unmistakably metal, but its whiteness defied comprehension.
"Well now, I've seen pitch-black swords aplenty, but one this ghostly pale? Suits you, I suppose."
Eerily pristine pure white, utterly flawless without a speck of imperfection—somehow unsettling, even tinged with madness.
As the Leader put it, a color fitting for a madwoman.
"...Splendid."
Whatever anyone said, it was immensely satisfying.
No microscopic flaws whatsoever, and the balance felt perfectly even.
A light material, but compressed from the volume of a full cartload, making it ten times heavier than a typical sword.
"Just the right weight..."
Perfectly suited to superhuman strength—neither too heavy nor too light.
"And the grip feels perfect."
The hilt wrapped comfortably around her hands with a softness hard to imagine from metal.
And then, the spirit fused as one with the sword.
Unlike before, when she'd used the child's in a near-cheating manner to forge a spirit.
The child's spiritual remains had been fully released, returning to nature, and the sword had taken over that role.
In other words, the sword itself had been reborn as So-hyang's spirit.
"Shall we test it?"
So-hyang pressed her forehead to the flat of the blade, slowly channeling her will to draw forth the power it contained.
Just as the crimson blade of the Blood Curse had unleashed red blood qi.
The energy from the snow-white blade was a matching pure white spirit qi.
A mystical, auspicious energy slowly suffused her body from her hands.
"...Oh?"
Unlike the blood qi that rampaged through her body like a wild horse, devouring her limbs and senses, the sword's spirit qi settled delicately within her.
Unlike the Blood Curse, which granted power but dulled the senses somewhat, this fit without disrupting perception at all.
"Better than I thought."
It even seemed to guide her, aiding even finer movements.
Enchanted, she gripped the sword with both hands.
Not gripping too tightly, yet firm enough to avoid shaking.
She swung it lightly from above down.
"...Haha."
The feel of slicing through the air was entirely different.
The sword itself was so perfect it would advance So-hyang's swordsmanship a full step forward.
Next came a sword dance—fluid and graceful, unbroken and unwavering.
White flashes traced straight lines.
The sword held no waver to begin with. No swordsman of the Central Plains could achieve straighter lines, no matter who came.
But So-hyang herself knew.
This was infinitely close to perfection, but not quite perfect lines.
No matter how straight the line, magnify it enough and microscopic curves inevitably appear.
Even sword lines polished to the microscopic with true iron insight were the same.
And now, So-hyang's sword had drawn even closer to perfection.
"My god."
A perfect straight line was drawn.
An unwavering curve sliced through empty air.
A flawless circle formed.
At least, that's how it appeared to the Leader's eyes.
Where So-hyang swung her sword was inside the Leader's heavenly domain.
Thus, this was no mere visual observation, but insight touching the essence via mental image.
Within a mental image that pierced even atomic interactions, daring to speak of perfection.
"...Already a madwoman, and now she's turned into a real monster."
So-hyang's sword dance was breathtakingly beautiful.
Its trajectories resembled ink paintings drawn with languid deliberation. Could the masterpieces of the world's acclaimed artists compare?
To a warrior's eyes, at least, no painting could be more beautiful.
The movements slowed gradually. Eventually, slower than a bug crawling.
Finally, it softly sliced the sky.
"...What?"
Unlike before, when she'd torn the mental image forcibly by pouring in her will.
Now, it split smoothly, like gutting a fish with a razor-sharp knife.
Even when she'd hammered her will in with a brain-squeezing sensation, all she'd managed was a pinhole.
Now, a clear wound large enough for a person to pass through had formed.
"Ahaha!"
Only now could it truly be called slicing the heavens.
Her face flushed with excitement at this evident growth. She couldn't contain her ecstasy.
"...This isn't something you slice that easily."
Not that it was a fully deployed mental image, but a mental image was still a mental image.
Normally, interference should be impossible without a warrior of the same realm.
Then again, how many times had that girl mocked the impossible? It no longer surprised him.
The Leader gave a slightly hollow smile and called to the peculiar friend he'd gained in his later years.
"Hey, now it's comple—"
Wait, something's off with her eyes.
"—you mad bitch?"
So-hyang's sword turned toward the Leader, as if entranced.
Beyond expectations, the result.
Ecstasy from achievement.
The thrilling handfeel of slicing the mental image.
So-hyang's mind reached rapture.
Her pupils dilated wide, her cheeks flushed like a drunkard's, a beautiful smile gracing her lips.
And naturally, the question arose.
Could she win against the Leader right now?
The answer was clear. No.
The sky he'd deployed thinly blanketed the space.
Even that, she hadn't fully severed—just inflicted a moderate wound.
She was still far from reaching the Transformation Realm.
Yet she wanted to charge in anyway.
Enlightenment always came from real combat brushing the brink of death.
If she bared her fangs at the Leader now, nine times out of ten So-hyang would die.
In other words, there was a one- or two-in-ten chance of victory.
A chance for growth dangled before her eyes.
To So-hyang, at least, it was an irresistible impulse.
"Mad bitch..."
Seeing So-hyang point her sword at him with dazed eyes, the Leader let out a genuine sigh.
The current So-hyang would be hard for him as Leader to suppress without injury, unlike three years ago.
Her previous vow to at least slice a finger had been mere potential; he'd merely been wary of her possibilities.
Now was different. Assuming a normal fight, he was confident of victory every time out of a hundred.
But if she steeled herself for death and rampaged her will, an ominous premonition told him he'd have to yield at least an arm.
An expert's ill omen. The chance of it missing approached zero.
Even so, the gap between expert and non-expert meant virtually no risk of defeat—but he couldn't just let it slide like before.
The Sword Venerable gripped the sky and pointed it at So-hyang.
"Are you serious?"
Warrior to warrior, swords pointed at each other.
It was the Leader's final question as Leader.
Are you a beast hurling yourself into impulse?
"Suuuuuuh—"
The beast maddened by ascent inhaled deeply at the Leader's question and gave her answer.
"...No. My apologies."
So-hyang's mad battle-lust subsided, and the Leader sighed as he withdrew his sword.
At least in her past life, So-hyang hadn't been human.
A criminal or terrorist blinded by outdated cravings, scorning law and morality.
She couldn't become a true person mingling with others in society.
Thus, though she followed her conscience, she ignored worldly laws and perceptions, pursuing only power.
Even that, in her final years facing death, madness swept her away; she discarded even that conscience, committing all manner of insanity for the slightest ascent.
But.
Who wouldn't want to be a good person?
So-hyang, at least, wanted to be virtuous—like the parents who raised her.
Born into a world incompatible with such aspirations, tormented by inescapable fundamental desires in her past life.
This world was different.
Here, even warriors were people.
She could build bonds with others and have her cultivated virtues recognized.
She could be a person, not a lone beast.
"My apologies."
To be swept by momentary desire and point her sword at someone worthy of being called friend—it was utterly shameful.
"No big deal."
Surprisingly, the Leader accepted her apology nonchalantly.
"Those enthralled by power and swords? I've seen my share."
In the society called the martial world, such outliers were hardly rare.
Commonly dubbed Sword Demons, Sword Maniacs, Sword Madmen.
The Leader himself had once borne such a title, so he understood.
"If words can restrain you, that's decent enough."
Sneering at the demonic nature of demon weapons, getting annoyed only when domains were slammed into his head—her mental fortitude was peerless.
What manner of steadfast, dense desire must such fortitude pursue?
Just hearing the outside world amid the ecstasy of enlightenment's dharma joy was impressive enough.
"Still, sorry again."
"Sure? Then I'll forgive you if I try your specialty once."
"My specialty?"
A smile crept onto the Leader's face as he playfully raised a curled finger.
"Finger flick. Right on the forehead."
"...Ah."
A penalty laughably cheap compared to her offense, so So-hyang said nothing more and bared her forehead.
"Haaa."
The Leader blew on his finger, concentrated his inner power, and flicked.
With the impact, So-hyang's head snapped back violently, and a thunderous boom like a meteor strike echoed across the plain.
A shock piercing tough skin and sturdy skull to rattle the brain—even So-hyang's forehead couldn't withstand it.
"My head's ringing..."
She could endure the pain, but the struck spot swelling red was unavoidable.
She could calm her bloodflow to prevent swelling, but since it was punishment for her misdeed, she couldn't.
So-hyang grumbled sullenly, clutching her forehead, but couldn't complain to the Leader.
"Kuhahahaha!!!"
The red swollen lump on her forehead, her gloomy expression.
At the sight of his endearingly pitiful friend, the Leader burst out laughing, clutching his belly.
"...Didn't you hit hard enough to shatter steel?"
Her head was harder than steel, after all; it was necessary for meaningful pain.
"Kuh, kuahahaha!"
Now rolling on the ground in tears of laughter, the Leader left So-hyang speechless, staring bitterly at the sky.
"Sigh..."
Never doing this again, she thought ruefully.
"Uh, ack, kuh! Kehek!"
"You lunatic. Quit laughing already."
Even so, did he have to laugh himself breathless?