Chapter 708: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (16)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 708: Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament (16)
The news that the Tang Clan had been kidnapping orphans for human experimentation sent shockwaves through the Central Plains.
They were one of the Four Noble Clans, the powerhouse responsible for distributing seventy percent of the steel weaponry in the realm. Though they had been classified as part of the Unorthodox Faction before the Great War of the Blood Demon, they had ascended to the Orthodox Faction after helping to repel that bloody calamity.
Until now, they had been a pillar of the Orthodox Faction, trusted and respected by all.
The Guardians of Sichuan.
The Sichuan Tang Clan.
The revelation that they had committed such an unimaginable atrocity left the world in a state of profound shock.
It was reported that within a hidden underground facility, the bodies of countless children were found piled high alongside the corpses of demons. When the Murim Alliance reviewed the records, they confirmed that these experiments had been ongoing for at least a century.
A century.
One hundred years.
Just how many children had perished in that darkness?
Public fury mounted with each passing day. The Poison King offered no excuses, choosing instead to seal the clan’s gates, but the people’s rage refused to wane.
They demanded the Tang Clan be declared a Public Enemy of Murim. They demanded they be stripped of their status as one of the Four Noble Clans, cast back into the Unorthodox Faction, and executed to the last man.
The people pleaded with the Alliance, but the Murim Alliance ultimately did not comply.
They ruled that the clan elders had conducted the experiments without the knowledge of the current lord, the Poison King. Furthermore, the Poison King had already summarily executed those elders, delivering his own brand of justice.
Considering their past achievements in protecting the Central Plains, the Alliance decided against their total annihilation.
Instead, they restricted the exclusive trade deals previously conducted through the Alliance. Furthermore, the Tang Clan was stripped of their right to field a candidate or vote in the election for the Murim Alliance Leader for the next three generations.
This was the sentence the Murim Alliance handed down.
In reality, it was hardly a punishment at all. If anything, it was a mercy.
The merchant associations that traded with the Tang Clan would have likely pulled out on their own after such a scandal anyway. And since the Tang Clan had historically never involved themselves in the politics of the Alliance Leader, many claimed the punishment was nothing more than a hollow show.
The public consensus was clear: while the Tang Clan had committed a heinous crime, the Murim Alliance had protected them out of respect for their history.
The Tang Clan, who had sacrificed countless lives for human experimentation.
The Murim Alliance, who tried to gloss it over.
The controversy raged on. It was only because several other major incidents broke out immediately afterward that the scrutiny on the Murim Alliance began to fade.
However, the same could not be said for the Tang Clan.
“Damn them. I feel ashamed for ever thinking Sichuan was safe just because I trusted those bastards.”
“Four Noble Clans? Orthodox Faction? How could they commit such wicked deeds while hiding behind those titles?”
“The Poison King didn’t know? Who would believe such a lie?”
The Tang Clan's standing plummeted daily. Although it was officially stated that the Poison King and his direct bloodline were not involved, few believed it. How could the lord of a clan be ignorant of what was happening within his own walls?
They didn't believe it. And even if it were true, they didn't want to believe it. In their minds, the Tang Clan was already irredeemable.
“As expected. Since they deal in poison, their hands were always going to be dirty.”
“They were Unorthodox from the start, weren’t they? The Alliance just let it slide.”
“People call them a clan of artisans now, but weren’t they originally a den of assassins? They were never meant to be trusted.”
Countless voices echoed.
Words cursing her clan.
Words cursing the Poison King.
Words cursing her.
A fallen noble clan. The Sichuan Tang Clan.
Every time she heard those words, the Poison Phoenix of the Tang Clan, Tang Soyeol, wanted to scream. She wanted to ask her father, the Poison King, over and over again.
But she couldn't.
When the Poison King made his choice, he told his son and daughter:
‘Even if we are without sin, to be born into this bloodline is to carry the will of the clan.’
To be unaware of what happens within one's own house is the lord’s sin. There are no excuses. And unfortunately, the father's sin becomes the children's burden.
That is the nature of responsibility.
And so, they chose to bear it.
The Poison King's words felt unfair and agonizing, but in the end, Tang Soyeol remained silent. What right did she have to feel wronged? Hadn't her father said it? The clan's sin is the lord's sin, and that inevitably becomes the sin of the bloodline.
Tang Soyeol was no different. She had lived a sheltered life within the clan, knowing nothing. But this was not a world where "knowing nothing" served as an excuse.
Countless people turned their backs on them. Countless people hurled insults.
To be honest, Tang Soyeol wasn't particularly afraid of the vitriol. If this was truly her sin, she would accept the world's condemnation. It didn't hurt.
She was afraid of something else entirely.
What if?
Just what if?
‘What if even he is harmed because of this?’
Would the precious people around her be dragged down by her association? Tang Soyeol was terrified of that possibility. Even if her own life crumbled, she couldn't bear the thought of them being hurt in her collapse.
The world was dark. The lights that surrounded him were so brilliant, yet her own world had become an endless void. If she lost the prestigious name she barely held onto and instead brought him ruin…
What could she possibly give him?
Nothing.
There were many who could offer him love; her own crude heart was not enough to justify staying by his side. She knew that to her very bones.
He would probably understand. Because that was the kind of person he was. But she wasn't strong enough to endure on his understanding alone.
Fortunately, an opportunity arrived.
—I will turn you into a monster.
A figure had come to her in the dead of night. The Central Plains' greatest assassin, the Dark King, who was now her master. He said he was taking her as his disciple at her father's request.
He told her to speak up if she didn't want to. He warned her that his methods would be extremely harsh and cruel—that she would experience pain incomparable to anything she had ever felt.
She didn't understand why the Dark King would come to her with such an offer. It made no sense, but…
—I am in your care.
There was only ever one choice.
Tang Soyeol became the Dark King's disciple. It was the only path she could take.
Time passed. As the Dark King had warned, it was an excruciating ordeal.
How many times had she died? She experienced the sensation of death an uncountable number of times.
‘Become numb to death.’
She grew numb. It took a year before she became indifferent to her own demise, until she no longer feared the bite of pain.
‘Become numb to killing.’
She grew numb. It took another year until taking a life meant nothing to her.
‘Not bad.’
Finally, when she had killed enough things that her eyes no longer wavered, the Dark King gave her his first compliment.
The moment she heard it, she knew everything had changed. Her realm had ascended, but something deep within her had shifted as well.
How much time had truly passed? He said it had only been two years, but to Tang Soyeol, it felt like an eternity. The world the Dark King created was twisted; perhaps even time itself had bent to his will.
The corpses of children were piled at her feet. Even though she knew this was an illusion created by her master, she felt nothing as she looked at them.
I'm broken.
That was Tang Soyeol's own judgment.
Did she regret it?
No.
“…Ah…”
The blood of others mixed with her own tears and flowed down her face. Her heart pounded.
Now, she felt she could finally stay by his side. She no longer cared about the realm she had dreamed of, nor her shattered self. For Tang Soyeol, this was enough.
Swoosh!
The world she had been trapped in dissolved. The darkness vanished, and the bloodstains on her body disappeared. The peaceful night and the silver moon returned.
The Dark King looked at Tang Soyeol and spoke.
“Descend the mountain.”
“Yes.”
Now, she could finally see him again.
* * *
The murmuring of the crowd filled her ears.
Tang Soyeol stood on the tournament stage, positioned below the packed audience stands. The Heavenly Dragon Martial Arts Tournament, hosted by the Alliance. Tang Soyeol had finally stepped onto its stage.
A fresh breeze brushed the tip of her nose. The weather was exceptionally fine.
At the same time, voices hissed from all directions.
“It’s the Poison Phoenix. I heard she was participating. It’s true.”
“The Poison Phoenix… you mean the one from the Tang Clan?”
“Look at her hair.”
Tang Soyeol's deep green hair. And beneath it, her light green eyes. The proof of her Tang Clan bloodline was written all over her.
“Tsk.”
Someone clicked their tongue in disgust.
“She’s got some nerve. How dare she show her face here…!”
“Truly disgusting.”
“To participate in the Alliance’s festival after what they did? She must be out of her mind.”
The crowd scowled, the memory of the Tang Clan’s deeds fresh in their minds. The heated voices spread through the air like a discordant chorus.
Everyone was making noise. Yet, Tang Soyeol’s face remained impassive. Did she not care? She looked like a sinner maintaining a stoic silence—or perhaps like someone simply enjoying the breeze.
Her opponent, watching her, finally spoke.
“How about you step down now?”
Tang Soyeol looked at him.
Oil Bullet Sword.
Her opponent was smirking at her.
“I’m just worried this situation might be too cruel for a little girl to handle.”
Insults were being hurled from all sides. It was a harsh environment for a woman not yet thirty to endure.
“If you leave now, I’ll show you some consideration. Go down in peace.”
It would be slightly more dignified to step down due to the pressure than to be crushed on the stage. That was the meaning behind Oil Bullet Sword’s words.
“Pfft.”
Tang Soyeol, who had been listening quietly, burst into a small laugh.
Oil Bullet Sword’s brow furrowed. “You’re laughing?”
“Thank you for your concern. I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Ha!” Oil Bullet Sword scoffed. “Indeed, just as shameless as I'd expect from a family of sinners.”
His attitude shifted instantly.
“I was trying to show you some mercy before you embarrassed yourself further, considering how many enemies you already have.”
“Yes, and I’m telling you there’s no need for that.”
“I may have made a mistake last time, but surely… you don’t really think you can win, do you?”
The very fact that he was on this stage facing Tang Soyeol was insulting to Oil Bullet Sword. She was a young prodigy at best. What glory was there in defeating a woman like her?
‘The only good thing is that public opinion sees her as a traitor.’
Her Tang Clan birth. Regardless of her talent, simply defeating her would boost his own reputation.
‘She seems to have a few cheap tricks, but that’s all.’
He had momentarily forgotten that the Tang Clan's martial arts were specialized for assassination. That was why he had let his guard down and fallen for her ploy previously. Or so Oil Bullet Sword thought.
Shing.
He drew his sword. “Little girl, you’ve made a grave mistake.”
As Oil Bullet Sword raised his blade, the air around them began to warp. The wind grew still.
“If you had such a technique, you should never have shown it to me. Then you might have had a chance.”
He believed he had already figured her out. There was no chance of victory for Tang Soyeol anymore.
“There won’t be a second time. So step down now—”
“You talk too much. It’s getting noisy.”
Tang Soyeol cut him off.
“You bitch!!”
Oil Bullet Sword lost his temper and unleashed his Combat Qi.
Fwoooosh—!!!
The pressure emanating from him enveloped the entire stage. Gasps of admiration erupted from the audience.
“…Just looking at it makes my hands tremble. Is this a true Fusion Realm master?”
“Pungrimwitan-gwon was impressive, but Oil Bullet Sword is clearly on another level.”
Pungrimwitan-gwon had only recently broken through the wall. As a Fusion Realm martial artist, he too could influence nature, but Oil Bullet Sword was more refined. Space itself seemed to be under his heel. Cracks appeared in the air, and afterimages flickered. He was dominating his surroundings with aura alone.
That was the power of the Fusion Realm.
“Are you relying on that pretty face of yours? Or perhaps your precious dark arts and poison? Look at your opponent properly. I am Oil Bullet Sword.”
He pointed the tip of his sword at her.
“What do you think you can do in such a wide-open space? You have no chance.”
“...”
At his words, Tang Soyeol glanced around. He was right. There was nothing. The wide-open scenery was so clear it was easy on the eyes. The day was bright, leaving no place to hide—the worst possible conditions for an assassin.
As she scanned her surroundings, Tang Soyeol’s gaze landed on a specific spot.
Two eyes were quietly watching her.
It was Gu Yangcheon, observing her with an expressionless face. He was watching with his arms crossed tightly. She could see his arms trembling slightly. It looked like he was forcibly holding himself back.
Seeing that, Tang Soyeol smiled.
He seemed blunt and sharp, but his eyes were always on those around him. He was such a kind person.
At first, she had fallen for his face alone. But now, she felt it would be fine even if his face became as cheesy as the Sleeping Dragon or Young Master Seong. She would have loved him simply because he was him.
That was her truth.
Therefore.
‘I’ll show you.’
That he no longer needed to worry about her. Tang Soyeol wanted to prove it.
She tore her gaze from Gu Yangcheon and turned back to Oil Bullet Sword.
“You’re right.”
“What?”
“There’s nothing here. But that’s not really a problem.”
As she spoke, Tang Soyeol pulled something from her robes. It was a dagger. Not just one, but dozens. After pulling out two daggers and a score of throwing knives, Tang Soyeol…
Clatter! Clang!
She dropped every single weapon onto the ground.
“…What is the meaning of this?”
Oil Bullet Sword asked, dumbfounded. Tang Soyeol simply checked her body for any remaining weapons before finally smiling.
“I’m ready.”
“...”
“I promise. When I fight you, I won’t use any hidden weapons. Or poison, of course.”
“Haha…”
Oil Bullet Sword burst out laughing. As he laughed, his face twisted into a hideous scowl.
“Are you mocking me?”
“Yes.”
“…You fucking bitch…!”
Krrrrrk!
A sharp sword aura coated Oil Bullet Sword’s blade.
“Fine, very well. To insult me to this extent… I’ll make a promise too.”
Amidst the crushing pressure, Oil Bullet Sword spoke with pure killing intent.
“I will make sure to scar that pretty face of yours.”
Tang Soyeol smiled again. “I’ll look forward to it.”
Grind.
Calming his ragged breath, Oil Bullet Sword took his stance. The judge looked between the two with a worried expression. Both had taken their stances.
After confirming this, the judge whispered, “Begin.”
The start of the battle was announced.
Even then, Oil Bullet Sword didn’t move. He didn’t charge. He wasn't being careless; he simply didn't know what tricks she might have prepared. Their previous encounter had convinced him: Tang Soyeol was an unusually strong opponent. No matter how unfavorable the situation was for an assassin, he could not let his guard down.
As he kept his sword aimed at her, his guard raised to the maximum…
“Do you know something?” Tang Soyeol spoke in a calm voice. “I hate clear skies.”
“…What are you talking about?”
“Just as you said, there’s nowhere to hide. And I realized I’m not a person who can be the light. I’ve hated clear skies ever since.”
“Ha?”
Was this idle chatter to make him lower his guard? But the more he listened, the more Oil Bullet Sword’s wariness grew.
“Yes, I couldn’t be the light. My master said so too.”
Tang Soyeol recalled the Dark King’s words. When she had asked what she should do to shine brighter, the Dark King had told her that he didn't know any way to become the light. Once one became an assassin, one could not be the light, and one had to forget any way of doing so.
Shining brighter was not their role.
Then what should I do? Tang Soyeol had asked out of frustration.
The Dark King had replied:
“If you cannot be the light, then become a greater darkness.”
A darkness that could swallow the light. He said she should become that. The Dark King had certainly said so, but Tang Soyeol didn't like those words either.
“It’s not very nice, is it? I’m by his side because the light is warm. I can’t just swallow it up.”
“What in the world are you talking about…”
“So, I decided to become the shade.”
She couldn't be the light, and she didn't want to devour the light. So, she would become the shade where the light could rest. Was that not also a form of darkness? A darkness that unfolds for the sake of the light.
Yes, the shade was enough. Like a tree in the forest that blocks the sunlight, allowing one to lean against its trunk and rest when tired. Tang Soyeol decided to become that kind of darkness.
I will be his shade.
A shade that would stand firm by his side, so he could rest anytime. She had decided that was what she would become.
This was the proof of that decision.
Tang Soyeol stretched out her hand.
“…!”
Oil Bullet Sword flinched and unleashed his sword aura. He was prepared to react instantly to anything, but he couldn't have known—this was something that could not be dealt with by reaction alone.
Tang Soyeol looked at him and murmured.
“Ten Thousand Demon Wall of Sixfold Genesis.”
The moment she spoke.
KWAAAAA—!!!
Tang Soyeol’s shadow expanded into a domain, swallowing the tournament stage. In an instant, a black barrier was overlaid upon the world.
“What is this…!”
His vision was obscured. Swallowed by the darkness, a panicked Oil Bullet Sword looked around. He couldn't see anything. He instinctively unleashed his senses to locate Tang Soyeol, but…
Stab!
“Keuk!?”
Something pierced through Oil Bullet Sword’s back and emerged from his chest. It wasn't a sword. It was a hand.
“Keoheok…!”
Coughing up blood, Oil Bullet Sword looked down. His vision was pitch black. Nothing should have been visible, yet strangely, the pure white hand that had pierced his body was perfectly clear.
Shluk!
The hand pulled back out. His heart had been skewered.
Thud!
Oil Bullet Sword collapsed on the spot.
Was this death? Oil Bullet Sword felt the cold touch of the end. As he slowly fell, a soft voice reached his ear.
“One time.”
Tang Soyeol looked down at him.
That was only the first time.
His hell had five more rounds to go.