Chapter 84
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: Tempering
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The chilling thrill of his life hanging by a thread on a blade just over two inches long.
"Yes, this is it. Isn't this the true feeling of being alive...!"
The blade grazed perilously close to his throat—a razor-sharp sensation only a body pushed to its limits could feel.
"—Why!! Won't it hit?!"
The only regrettable thing was the opponent's clumsiness in this perfect setup, where her life was truly at stake.
"Your scythe work is sorely lacking. It looks even clumsier than a farmer's during harvest season—how can we call you a martial artist?"
"Shut up!!!"
It's fine. If she's lacking, fill the gap. If she's unskilled, teach her. Simple as that.
"Calm your excitement and focus on your changed body."
Of course, whether it'd satisfy So-hyang was another matter, but she was confident she could mold her into something far superior to her current state.
"Aside from that hideous appearance, that body is superior to your previous one. Muscle strength, agility, reaction speed..."
"Grrraaah!!! Shut up...!"
Wild, frenzied swings of the scythe—So-hyang slipped through with fluid, dance-like movements.
Twisting and ducking her body in bizarre ways, she drove her lightly clenched fist toward a spot in the lower abdomen with piercing force.
"The key point is, you're not utilizing that body properly."
A not-so-loud impact.
And then, excruciating pain.
"...! G-Guh, grrrk...!"
"There—the spleen. Remember it."
Though eroded by demonic energy and slightly shifted, its foundation was still human anatomy.
No need for divine sight; just observing the external muscle twitches revealed the internal organs' positions.
"Why! Why!! Whyyyyy!!"
The Demonic Cultist couldn't comprehend what was happening.
The unreasonable gap had vanished. The opponent now stood on the [same level] as her.
And that wasn't even the end of it.
Though the effect leaned toward weakening the foe, a domain was still a domain—a parallel realm that favored its caster.
Within this swamp-like space, her physical strength and qi flow should have been further enhanced.
That puny fist shouldn't even tickle, and her own attacks should have been too fast to follow, turning the opponent into mincemeat effortlessly.
The difference between mortal and martial artist—
"Gaaaaahhh!!!"
—an overwhelming gap.
"Tch, you think I'd get hit by such thoughtless swings? Be more careful."
Yet why did the gap feel reversed?
"You're weakened, that's true. And I've gotten stronger, that's also true."
Indeed, an overwhelming gap.
Now So-hyang was clearly the weak one, and the opponent the evident strong one.
"But so what?"
If she couldn't see and react, predict and evade. If a fist couldn't pierce the skin, strike vital points with weighted subtlety.
An even more familiar method, in fact.
"—Like this, for example."
So-hyang closed the distance again, charging right up to the Demonic Cultist.
She raised both fists to face level, lowered her stance, and swayed left and right.
Then came four lightning-fast punches.
A light jab.
A straight driven with twisted hips.
A hook with rotational force from a bent arm.
An uppercut lifting the pain-curled abdomen.
Weaving and ducking into jab, straight, hook, uppercut—the basic combo.
"Kidney, spleen, lung, heart, in that order. Better memorize the spots."
More effective than words. Pain-etched lessons stick clearest.
"—G-Guh, urk...!"
"You've got plenty more vitals to protect. If you just swing wildly in rage, you'll be a corpse in no time."
That cleared out the arrogance and complacency rooted in her mind. Time for proper training.
-----
"You're wielding a scythe—an unusual weapon. It's akin to a guan dao or long spear in classification, but distinctly different."
"Hraaaah!!"
"So, what do you think is the scythe's unique advantage?"
"Shut up! I said shut up!!"
So-hyang's ragged breathing steadied in moments, despite the strain.
Not free of limits, but ignoring fatigue through technique.
Like a marathoner's breathing to stave off exhaustion—her unique method kept her body from tiring amid fierce motion.
Reclaiming the knack she'd briefly forgotten amid her transcended flesh, So-hyang's face bloomed with smiles.
"The blade faces inward, reaping on the pull—an exception, no?"
So-hyang stared at the incoming scythe's tip, then stepped half a pace forward.
A vulnerability where blade met shaft.
Stay put, and her approaching fist would hurt again.
So what should the Demonic Cultist do?
"Two, three! Pull!"
"...! Hraaah!"
As So-hyang called it.
Dodging the agonizing fist at point-blank.
The Demonic Cultist hastily retreated, naturally pulling the scythe for a counter.
"Yes, that's how you use a scythe."
So-hyang smiled in satisfaction, bending at the waist to evade the blade slicing at her nape.
She'd baited it herself—failing to dodge would be odd.
After all, that inward reaping arc like cutting rice was the scythe's essence.
Wasting it by hacking like a pickaxe? Pointless.
"In that vein, that move was good. Not just pulling with arms, but adding footwork for body weight—excellent."
Mm, mm—nodding and clapping in approval, So-hyang's delight left the Demonic Cultist's face etched with indescribable confusion.
"Wh-What... the hell...!"
She had to realize by now.
This wasn't mockery or torment—she was sincerely teaching.
Pain and apt advice imprinting martial principles into flesh.
Profound insights on the rare scythe, seldom discussed even in the Central Plains.
A dullard who'd become a cultist out of envy for talent—and yet enlightenment hammered in instantly.
"You can do it! Keep going!"
Finally in her dream training ground, but the sparring partner's skill too lacking to tolerate.
What to do?
Hammer her into shape personally.
Whether she wanted it or not.
-----
Jealousy and envy aren't all bad.
Sometimes they fuel upright drive toward goals, becoming positive mindsets.
But these Demonic Cultists preferred tearing others down over self-growth, stacking power through foul means—like brigands.
Except now, purely pursuing the martial way and growth.
"...St-Stop, please, enough...!"
Precisely, So-hyang had beaten her into pursuing growth...
But good is good, right?
"Balance! Keep your center! Good!"
Driven by ugly urges to kill So-hyang and violate every hole, yet she followed the lessons well.
Thanks to that astonishing willpower born of jealousy she'd admired before.
Once twisted into depravity by deep demonic erosion, but corrected through sufficient discipline.
Now gnashing teeth, eyes blazing, enduring strikes to seize victory—a fine stance.
"But don't obsess over balance. Sometimes boldly throw your body to create variables!"
"Make up my mind...?!"
"Figure it out! Clean! Precise! Instinctively!"
"...Bullshit!"
Mouth spewing curses, eyes sharp, hunting reversal.
The cultist once named Sanghu underwent unprecedented explosive growth.
More fulfilling than devouring hearts or bathing in subordinates' blood—a soul-deep essence.
"Good, now it's finally fun to spar."
So-hyang parried the sharp downward blade's flat with her hand's back, subtly deflecting, and exclaimed in admiration.
Compared to the fight's start, worlds apart—disciplined movements.
Yet with instinctive flair to discard orthodoxy boldly.
Impressive growth for such short hammering, even under her guidance.
Though unspoken, satisfaction flickered in the opponent's eyes.
"—Then, shall I enjoy myself a bit now?"
"...What?"
Gentle guidance over—time to savor the fight properly.
So-hyang unclenched her fists, extending hands into honed blades.
"Let's try some blade work."
-----
"...St-Stop...! What the...! How long...!"
Full four hours—eight by her past life's count—passed in domain-bound fierce combat.
Weakened body had limits, and sealed space barred spirit energy absorption, yet So-hyang showed no fatigue.
"Ahahaha! What's wrong? Still plenty of stamina left!"
Her white robes soaked translucent with sweat, skin flushed with pounding heart.
Yet not weary—brimming with vitality and life.
"Crazy... crazy bitch...!"
The weary one was the Demonic Cultist.
Mutated body, amplified demonic energy, domain buffs—should sustain endless hours, but mental strain was separate.
Especially facing eerie hand-blades that could sever her throat on a hair's miss—how not exhaust the mind?
—Kaaang!
"Why... is bare flesh this tough...!"
Opponent paling; So-hyang's face brightening conversely.
She'd grown soft and frail; foe strong enough to harm.
Even honed the enemy's blade—now time to be sculpted by it.
What was this crisis?
Flesh far weaker than sealed state.
To match steps and dance, circulate spirit energy to reinforce body.
But this bounded parallel realm differed from outside, where Spirit Sword reservoir and Bright Mystery Sword Arts breathed infinite supply.
No escaping consumption, even thriftily—insufficient for four hours' clash.
So how?
So-hyang had seen the method before.
The Wudang head she'd broken previously.
Five Elements Sword Immortal, Qingxia Zhenren.
Heavenly qi talent, peak control.
Cycling vast expended qi through supreme efficiency.
But that was Qingxia's genius feat—mimicry needed added insight.
Seen at Wudang too.
Wisdom Sword Initiate, Qingxu Zhenren.
Taiji's circle, Wudang's heritage Taiji Wisdom Sword.
Yin-yang linking, rotating into primordial unity—the ring of attraction converging all creation.
Combine them.
Concept and method ready.
New insight complete.
"Ha, haha! Hahaha...!"
A beaming grin lit So-hyang's face.