Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Realm of No Self
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Yu So-myung gripped her sword and stepped forward.
“Kraaaahhh—!!”
At that moment, Wi Yong-myeong’s entire body became drenched in demonic energy as if he had gone berserk, his physique distorting in unnatural ways.
The process seemed agonizing, for he clawed at his own head and let out a guttural scream.
No matter how she looked at it, he appeared to have lost his reason.
In his torment, he didn’t even glance her way, giving her a moment to catch her breath.
“......”
Tremble.
Her body shook. She was terrified.
Though it had eased somewhat now, the excruciating pain of her guts being crushed from earlier felt like it could return at any second.
Even so, she raised her sword and advanced to face the monster.
There were several reasons, the first being a sense of duty.
No matter the circumstances, Wi Yong-myeong had once been part of the Sanshi Yu Clan. It was only natural for her, his blood kin in the clan, to handle his punishment.
And the second reason... those words from the bandit just moments ago.
‘If things end like this today, you’ll never pick up a sword again.’
Even now, her hand gripping the sword trembled with fear.
If she turned a blind eye to today’s events and left the responsibility to someone else... she wouldn’t overcome the trauma and would never wield a sword again.
‘No...’
She was a proud member of the Sanshi Yu Clan, with the bold ambition to become the world’s greatest swordswoman.
‘I, Yu So-myung, wish to become a swordmaster whose name echoes across the world beyond Sanshi lands.’
They were words from a petty, underhanded rogue, but oddly, they felt a bit encouraging.
Yu So-myung steeled her resolve...
“Huuu...”
She exhaled deeply once, then shouted at Wi Yong-myeong.
“You traitor—!!”
“Kruuuuh...?”
Wi Yong-myeong lifted his head amid his agony at her cry.
“Let’s clash once more! This time, I’ll cut you down for good.”
“You... the daughter of the Sanshi Yu Clan... Yu So-myung...!”
In that instant, his eyes flashed. The dark crimson demonic energy surging from his body grew even blacker.
“You lucky bitch—!! If I were you...! If I were you—!!”
“What...?”
“If I were as young as you... if I’d been born in the Sanshi Yu Clan... if I’d been free from worries of food and survival to devote myself solely to martial arts...!!”
Wi Yong-myeong’s body was no longer human, nor was his mind intact.
Raw hatred and resentment poured from his mouth.
“I could have reached greater heights—!! But what are you lot?! You were born with far more than you deserve...! You foolish brats...! What a waste... If I’d been born in the Sanshi Yu Clan, I could have become something greater...!!”
His words, stripped of any substance, dripped only with malice. They soured the listener’s mood...
“How pathetic...”
“What...?”
“The Elder Wi I knew wasn’t like this.”
Rather than fear, Yu So-myung felt her heart settle, the terror easing slightly.
‘Miss, the night breeze is chilly. Always be careful not to catch a cold.’
It might have been fabricated, but Wi Yong-myeong had been a kind man. Recalling that image, Yu So-myung raised her sword and leaped forward.
‘I’ll free you from that hellish demonic yoke.’
Unbeknownst to her, the moment she steadied her heart and gripped her sword, cracks began to form in the wall that had loomed before her.
**
Chaeng—! Chaeng, chaeng—!!
“Eut...”
Wi Yong-myeong had lost his reason, so his attacks were little more than those of a beast.
Yu So-myung thought she could fight more easily than before...
Kwang—!
“Euk...”
But that was a mistake.
Though Wi Yong-myeong had lost his mind, his physical abilities had amplified enormously in compensation.
She had always been quick on her feet, but as their sword and fists clashed, her stamina waned while...
“Kraaaah—!!”
...Wi Yong-myeong showed no signs of tiring—in fact, his speed increased.
Naturally, this burdened Yu So-myung.
She accelerated as well, swinging her sword desperately, but swift swordplay was useless against a foe faster than herself.
‘I need another approach...’
A few other sword styles flashed in her mind, but her proficiency in them paled compared to the clan’s signature Flowing Willow Sword Art.
‘In the end, it has to be the Flowing Willow Sword Art...’
She couldn’t win on speed. The Flowing Willow Sword Art was swift swordplay—how could she counter him?
As worry clouded her thoughts, words from the bandit echoed from a corner of her mind.
‘The Flowing Willow Sword Art isn’t just about speed. If you don’t get it, look around and recall what I said earlier. The path will reveal itself.’
Having honed the Flowing Willow Sword Art for over a decade, she knew it better than anyone: it was swift swordplay.
‘What does an outsider know to say such things...’
But without that bandit’s advice, she had no way out of this. For now, she scanned her surroundings amid the chaos, as he’d suggested.
‘What could be around here...’
The other warriors still locked in local skirmishes, the ruined training ground floor, the slightly cracked wall, the palace where she’d lived.
To her, who had grown up here, nothing stood out.
‘What on earth... ah...’
Then her eyes caught it: beyond the wall, the massive willow tree planted before the Clan Leader’s quarters.
Unlike other willows, it was the centuries-old tree said to have been planted by the Sanshi Yu Clan’s founder.
From that tree, willows became symbols of the Sanshi Yu Clan and the Flowing Willow Sword Art.
Of course, it held great significance to the clan, but in this situation, it seemed irrelevant...
Wait.
‘The Flowing Willow Sword Art draws its essence from the willow’s form... and it’s swift swordplay...’
For the first time, doubt stirred in Yu So-jeong’s mind.
No, Yu So-myung’s.
And from a forgotten childhood memory... her father’s words resurfaced.
**
‘So-myung-ah... you know, the Flowing Willow Sword Art you’re starting to learn isn’t the same as what the founder first created.’
‘Huh? Why not?’
‘Back then, the Sanshi Yu Clan wasn’t as strong as now. Through trials and tribulations, the original Flowing Willow Sword Art was unfortunately lost.’
‘Then the current Flowing Willow Sword Art is...’
As young Yu So-myung looked up with worry, her father—the current Sanshi Yu Clan Leader, Yu Ha-seong—patted her head fondly and said,
‘Don’t worry. The Fifth Clan Leader, whose swordsmanship rivaled the founder’s, recreated the Flowing Willow Sword Art.’
‘The Fifth Clan Leader...’
‘Yes, the one who revived our Sanshi Yu Clan. The Flowing Willow Sword Art he crafted, infused with the essence of speed, is one of the finest in the world.’
‘Wow, what a relief!’
Young Yu So-myung beamed innocently, and her father stroked her head.
But she had seen it.
Her father’s distant, wistful smile tinged with regret. And...
‘Still, I’d love to see the lost Flowing Willow Sword Art with my own eyes...’
...his quiet mutter, as if to himself.
Why did that memory surface now?
‘The Flowing Willow Sword Art isn’t just about speed. If you don’t get it, look around and recall what I said earlier. The path will reveal itself.’
Yes, the willow’s form was far from the essence of speed. So then...
In that instant.
Whiiiing—.
A fierce gust whipped her hair. And... as Yu So-myung glanced at the willow during the fight, she saw it.
The willow branches, swaying wildly in the wind yet never breaking...
‘Little So-myung. See? Use the grasping essence like this—when the opponent’s fist comes, catch and deflect it aside. Fist fighters love it when you do this.’
Ah.
“Kraaaah—!! Die—!!”
Puk—!
Distracted mid-battle, Yu So-myung failed to properly defend against Wi Yong-myeong’s attack.
But...
‘The essence of grasping...’
Like a scholar who’d found the answer, her eyes widened in realization.
“Kraaaahhh—!!”
Watching Wi Yong-myeong charge, Yu So-myung organized her thoughts.
The Flowing Willow Sword Art drew from the willow’s form.
Having lived with it nearly her whole life, Yu So-myung knew and loved willows.
She loved the subtle fragrance of their blossoms.
She loved how their branches waved to her in the breeze.
Gentleness and softness.
That was the essence of the Sanshi Yu Clan and the foundation of the Flowing Willow Sword Art.
“If I apply the essence of grasping here...”
Hwooung—!!
A fist faster than before hurtled toward Yu So-myung.
With her stamina already depleted, dodging alone would have been a struggle, let alone blocking...
Swish—.
But Yu So-myung didn’t dodge. She took her stance.
And then...
Kakakak—!!
Wi Yong-myeong’s attack grazed her but slid aside.
She had defended successfully, much like the bandit had demonstrated. And...
Srrrr—.
Her sword curved naturally along Wi Yong-myeong’s extended arm...
Slash—!
...carving a long gash.
“...!”
Though bereft of reason, Wi Yong-myeong instinctively sensed something was wrong.
“Gentleness, softness, the essence of grasping...”
Not a shred of killing intent emanated from her as she murmured, engrossed, yet Wi Yong-myeong inexplicably felt overwhelmed.
Soon... her sword rose...
Paat—!
As she leaped slowly, her fading eyes lost focus entirely.
“As expected of a novel heroine... She’s already enlightened in less than a quarter of an hour...”
With those incomprehensible mutterings from some unknown source, Yu So-myung’s consciousness fully drifted away.
It was the Realm of No Self.