Chapter 463: Screw Off (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 463: Screw Off (1)
Shhh… Shh…
Her consciousness was hazy.
A strange rustling sound reached her ears, accompanied by a persistent tugging on her arm.
Squeeze.
The sensation of being pulled roused her. She opened her eyes.
“…”
Her vision cleared slowly.
A dry tree branch came into view.
She tried to move her body first, but found she couldn't. Had she completely run out of energy?
A sharp pain flared in her Dantian the moment she tried to muster any strength. It seemed she was utterly spent.
“Hgh…”
An involuntary groan escaped the Demonic Sword’s lips from the pain.
She understood her situation immediately.
…Recoil…
It was the backlash from using the Thunder Fang.
Agony saturated every fiber of her being. Her muscles were useless, her energy reserves completely dry. She was in no state to move.
“…!”
Despite this, she strained her neck, turning her head to survey her surroundings. There was someone she needed to find.
…Where…?
Where was he?
The person she sought was nowhere to be seen. Where had 'he' gone?
As the Demonic Sword scanned the area with frantic, shaking pupils,
Squeeze.
That odd sensation returned to her arm.
She looked down to see what it was.
“…?”
A puzzled expression crossed her face.
Something was coiled around her arm. What was it?
Shhh…
A soft hiss reached her ears. Focusing her blurry vision, she could just make out a faint twitching motion.
Shhh…!
It was a snake.
A snake with crimson scales—
…Blue?
At first, she thought it was only red, but then she noticed a faint, glowing hint of blue at the tip of its tail. Well, that probably wasn't important.
Why was this snake wrapped around her arm? Not only that, but it seemed to be trying to pull her somewhere.
What was this creature?
Shhh-!
As if in a hurry, the snake let out a louder hiss and tugged more insistently.
The Demonic Sword frowned at the bizarre feeling. What did it want? Moreover, she sensed a peculiar aura emanating from the snake.
It’s not… a snake?
She finally recognized its true nature.
It was a Demon.
The familiar presence it emitted confirmed this was no ordinary serpent. Did that mean it was trying to attack her? That was her first thought, but it didn't seem to be the case.
Shhh-!
Rather than hostility, its actions felt more like an attempt to guide her somewhere. What was its goal? Just as the Demonic Sword frowned in confusion,
Swoosh-!
“…!”
Her gaze snapped upward.
To the sky.
Thump-Thump-Thump!
Her heart began to pound violently. Her body was reacting instinctively to an overwhelming pressure emanating from a great distance. Her pupils trembled.
In the far-off sky, the clouds parted, and something began to manifest.
That’s…
Light converged into a single point. Just the sight of it was enough to convey its immense power.
It was the proof of enlightenment. A chilling sensation ran down her spine. The Demonic Sword pressed a hand against the ground, struggling to push herself up.
The Sword of Mind.
The light gathering in the sky was unmistakably a Sword of Mind.
Furthermore, Lightning Qi was interwoven within it. That alone gave the Demonic Sword a reason to rise, no matter what.
Her body was reacting precisely to the Lightning Qi saturating the air. There was only one person in the Central Plains, besides herself, who possessed Lightning Qi of such magnitude.
And the number of individuals capable of manifesting a Sword of Mind was even smaller.
Knowing this, the Demonic Sword had to move.
…No.
If she left him there, he would die.
She poured all her effort into moving her trembling legs.
But then…
Swoooosh-!
Before she could fully stand, a wave of energy swept past her, and she collapsed back to the ground.
“…!”
Horror flooded the Demonic Sword’s eyes.
Behind the pillar of light presumably created by the Heavenly Venerable, three more Swords of Mind had appeared. They were vastly larger and brighter.
Shiver-
She realized her fingers were shaking. It was a martial artist's natural reaction.
…That’s…
She had felt hesitation upon seeing the Heavenly Venerable's Sword of Mind, but this was different.
This wasn't mere fear.
It was pure awe—the only emotion that filled her chest. Just by looking, she could sense the immense depth of experience and enlightenment required to create those luminous pillars.
She found she couldn't stand back up.
What was that? It was the first time the Demonic Sword had ever felt such an emotion.
Shhh-!
While the Demonic Sword remained seated, stunned by the sight, the snake around her arm continued its efforts to pull her. Where was it trying to lead her?
“…Huh?”
She then realized the snake was tugging her toward the source of the light.
Why would it lead her there? As confusion set in,
[…Up…]
A voice echoed, not in her ears, but directly in her mind.
[Get up.]
It was a cold, deep voice, utterly devoid of emotion.
“…”
It was a tone she disliked. After all, she had restrained herself from using the Thunder Fang precisely to avoid hearing this voice. But now, she had no choice.
[Go there. Immediately.]
For the first time, the voice held a trace of emotion—an undercurrent of urgency.
She forced her limp legs to obey. Her body screamed in protest, but she didn't utter a sound. There was something far more important than the pain.
“Hah…”
Clutching desperately at her fading consciousness, the Demonic Sword began to walk forward.
Her destination was where the pillars of light stood.
She was certain the person she was looking for was there.
The Meteor Generation.
That was the name given to the current era, for the countless geniuses born within it shone like stars in the sky.
The term only drew a scoff from Shincheol.
The Meteor Generation? The era of peace? He had many reasons to ridicule the name.
First, he felt a grim pride that he and his comrades had bought this so-called peace with their lives.
Second, it was because of what the Meteor Generation was built upon.
Did they even know?
Unlike now, there was a time they were called the generation of war and destruction—an age of endless misfortune where people struggled merely to survive.
They were forced to wield their blades to live, to protect their loved ones.
It wasn't a world where people pursued higher martial realms as a mere goal. They had to become stronger if they wanted to live. They needed power to protect others.
That was the life Shincheol had lived. The young martial artists of Mount Hua learned the sword for that reason alone.
They were only respected as true swordsmen once they could manifest multiple Swords of Mind simultaneously. Only then were they capable of protecting what mattered.
Shincheol was reminded of his youth.
His Leader, killed when a White Demon ripped out his heart.
His Senior Brother, who died having his eyes gouged out while shielding Shincheol's left arm.
His Junior Uncle, who threw Shincheol to safety off a cliff, sacrificing his own life.
That was his world. A world where the weak watched their loved ones perish.
He had lost too much when he didn't know how to wield a sword properly.
Because of that, Shincheol learned the sword. He trained relentlessly to reach higher levels.
One thing was fortunate: he possessed both talent and an indomitable will.
He shed blood and sweat with every swing of his blade.
Time passed, and Shincheol finally achieved the Sword of Mind.
He had reached this stage around the age of forty, back when he was called the Legendary Sword of Mount Hua.
How did he feel then? Was he happy to have mastered such a technique?
Of course not.
He was filled with sorrow. Sorrow that he hadn't reached this stage sooner. So many young lives had been lost because he was too weak.
The Sword of Mind was a technique born from those very emotions.
That was why—
“Your sword holds no meaning.”
Shincheol admitted the Heavenly Venerable was talented, but he couldn't help but scorn him. His expression grew colder as he watched the Heavenly Venerable stare blankly at the Swords of Mind.
“Your sword is hollow.”
What meaning resided within the Heavenly Venerable's Sword of Mind? What was his belief?
In Shincheol's eyes, the Heavenly Venerable wasn't worthy of being judged as a martial artist.
“Can you truly call yourself a martial artist when you've filled your hollow shell with nothing but your own desires?”
Was the Heavenly Venerable a martial artist?
Yes, he was. To train and seek a higher realm was the path of a martial artist.
But by Shincheol's standards, the Heavenly Venerable held no worth. To treat him as a true martial artist would be an insult to the comrades who died fighting to save the world.
The three giant swords towering in the sky embodied Shincheol's convictions.
One sword contained his regret for not becoming stronger fast enough.
The second held his desire to save the world.
The third embodied his longing for peace.
“I'm not sure.”
Was this the world he had fought so desperately for? Shincheol wasn't certain.
Woong-!
A sharp resonance hummed through the air, the Sword Resonance growing in intensity.
“But I don't really care to know.”
The current generation was responsible for the world now. Shincheol's only regret was that he couldn't leave them a better one.
Shing-!
His Swords of Mind aimed directly at the Heavenly Venerable. Shincheol's Plum Blossom Eye remained as radiant as ever.
Amidst this grand spectacle,
“Hah… Hah…”
The Heavenly Venerable suddenly fell to one knee. He seemed to have aged decades in moments.
The battle hadn't even begun. The Swords of Mind still hung motionless in the air.
Crack-
The Heavenly Venerable's own Sword of Mind began to crumble.
Shincheol clicked his tongue softly. He understood what was happening.
“I'm disappointed.”
The Heavenly Venerable was collapsing from within, his will to fight extinguished. He had fallen into despair without their blades even clashing. Shincheol couldn't hide his disappointment. His opponent had broken simply upon facing a wall greater than himself.
Myung, is he truly your descendant?
Was he really the bloodline of Namgung Myung, the Thunderous Sword? Shincheol found it hard to believe. Of the five, Myung had seemed the least likely to produce such a pathetic descendant.
It seems he really messed up with his children.
He couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. His friend had desperately wanted to uphold the Namgung Clan as the most respected and powerful.
Yet how did it end up like this?
…
Shincheol felt a conflict of emotions.
Swoosh-!
His Swords of Mind slowly dispersed. There was no need for them anymore. Shincheol had never intended to defeat the Heavenly Venerable. While impressive, his Swords of Mind couldn't bridge the vast gap in their cultivation levels. Besides, he had no desire to kill his friend's descendant.
Although…
Myung probably would have killed them all himself if he knew.
That was likely, given the Thunderous Sword's temperament. But even if true, it wasn't Shincheol's place to do so.
Swish-
The sword in his hand loosened, reverting to its cloth form. As if having lost its will to fight, it flew back to his left arm and wrapped around it like a bandage once more.
Shincheol watched as the light faded from the Heavenly Venerable's eyes. For a martial artist, losing one's will was equivalent to death. They might breathe still, but their spirit as a martial artist was gone.
And over something like this.
All Shincheol had done was show him a higher peak. Yet, the sight alone had made his opponent kneel.
…I don't understand.
The more he saw, the more confused he grew. The current generation might be peaceful, but the gulf between their martial prowess and that of the past was staggering.
Why were the martial artists of this era so weak? How could it be so different from the world he knew? He had no answer.
Was it simply because it wasn't an age of war? That couldn't be the sole reason. The disparity was too vast.
There were prodigies in this generation, too—more talented and powerful than the young masters he remembered. Yet the strongest martial artists now were far weaker than the prime experts of his time.
Perhaps it was just the Heavenly Venerable who was this feeble. But Shincheol couldn't comprehend how a man ranked among the top three in the Central Plains could only manifest a single Sword of Mind.
Were inner demons holding him back? Or was there another reason?
Shincheol didn't know.
I don’t get it… Il-Cheon. Just what did you dream of?
His emotions grew cold as he thought of his golden-haired friend who had stood at the forefront, determined to save the world.
“…You…”
A weak voice broke the silence. The Heavenly Venerable, who had been reduced from a noble gentleman to a helpless old man in moments, spoke.
“…Just what are you…?”
His tone was feeble.
Shincheol tilted his head slightly at the loaded question. What was he?
“What am I, huh…?”
He'd been asked this before, and his answer was always the same.
“A martial artist.”
“…”
“I am just a martial artist.”
His response was firm and final. In Shincheol's eyes, he was nothing more, nothing less.
The Heavenly Venerable lowered his head upon hearing the answer. The conviction in Shincheol's voice implicitly declared that the Heavenly Venerable himself was not a true martial artist. And he had no rebuttal. He could only stare at the ground in silence.
After a moment of observation, Shincheol finally let out a sigh. He had only intended to stall for time and block the path, but the situation had taken a strange turn. While it had ultimately worked out, something else was more important.
Is it going well?
His focus shifted to the brat inside, the one with his eyes closed.
Tsk. This old man is working so hard for you. I'll beat your ass if you don't succeed.
If that's not what you want, then—
Wake up, you bastard brat.
With that thought, Shincheol closed his eyes once more.
As time flowed in the outside world,
Pop-
A bubble rose to the water's surface and burst.
Deep within the water, in a space that seemed endless and was completely submerged, there was a profound silence. The vast expanse was devoid of any life.
Except for one.
A young man floated peacefully at the center, so still he seemed in a deep slumber. A slight frown marred his face, as if he were experiencing discomfort. Was he having a nightmare? His brow furrowed repeatedly behind closed eyelids.
After some time, the young man's eyes began to twitch. Finally, his eyelids lifted, opening gently.
“…”
This quiet place was a space of the mind.
The young man who had lost his consciousness here, Gu Yangcheon, had opened his eyes.