Chapter 46
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 45
Chapter Title: Incineration - 2
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A person had died.
A human had breathed their last. They spat up a basin's worth of blood, their eyes rolling back. That's just how it was when a hand pierced the heart. A pale, translucent hand plunged in deep, then withdrew. The corpse of the elite guard Kim Jae toppled backward.
Donghyeong, who had witnessed it all, couldn't muster any reaction. His mind had frozen at the surreal sight.
"Uh..."
The dumbstruck murmur became his final words. Before he knew it, a reverse-gripped longsword gleamed in his chest. Thud. Two elite guards of the Huangfu Clan lay sprawled on the ground.
A beat later, belated screams echoed out.
"Kyaaah!"
"M-Murder!"
The common folk scattered in panic. Sharp cries rang out. Servants trembled in terror. Amid it all, the Girl moved.
Swish. She crossed the grand gate. Bloody footprints stained the grounds of the mighty Huangfu Clan estate in Guangdong—a place folks considered an honor just to step into.
"I'll head out."
With a flick, Baek Hui vanished in an instant. It was for the task Zhang Ping had requested... setting the Huangzheng Pavilion ablaze.
The Girl nodded lightly.
Then she took a step forward.
"Who goes there?!"
"Halt!"
How did the Five Great Clans respond? Never sluggishly. No freezing in panic or disgraceful blunders.
The moment they saw the elite guards fall, two warriors charged out. Huangfu Wind Division members who happened to be off-duty.
The Huangfu Clan's elites—symbols of the clan where only first-rate experts, blood kin or guests alike, could even attempt the trials. They stood firm with resolute determination.
But.
"Argh!"
Fists honed through bitter training shattered like cookies. Mysteries that could deflect a thousand jin of force crumbled before ten thousand jin of might.
The two in fluttering yellow martial robes didn't last three exchanges.
Servants wailed monstrous cries as they hid. Somewhere, an emergency bell began tolling.
The spreading peals seemed to warn: Flee. Run while you can. There's no living here.
Swish— The Girl took another step forward. Her pale skin and emotionless face made her look like a doll devoid of feeling at first glance.
Yet red-hot hatred began to blaze in her eyes. Flick. A tiny spark ignited. Her pitch-black pupils swept the reception hall.
'Gasp!'
A stifled breath from someone peeking out.
He was merely a second-rate ronin freshly arrived at the Huangfu Clan. He had seen two Wind Division members die in a blink.
Whatever her identity, she was at least at the pinnacle realm—an opponent he couldn't defeat even in death.
He clamped his mouth shut in the crevice. Holding his breath with all his might, lest a sound escape.
He squeezed his eyes shut and recited the Buddha's name he never truly believed in.
'Namu Amitabha.'
Eyes clenched tight, he saw nothing. All he heard was an eerie silence and the swish of skirts. No. There was one more thing.
"Gurk!"
Swish— Each brush against the fine scented wood brought a death rattle.
Servants in the reception hall. Warriors who had come to visit. Those in hiding vanished one by one.
Swish. Another died.
'Namu Amitabha.'
Tears welled up unbidden. Please, someone, anyone—help. Save me. Swish—
Save me from that madwoman!
Swish—
'Namu Amita...!'
"There you are."
Gasp!
Hand over mouth. Eyes bulging wide. The last thing he saw was...
Pupils black as the void, without a single glint of light.
The Girl counted silently in her mind. Blood dripped plink, plink from her dangling hand.
Five yellow earthen auras still flickered in the reception hall. As she moved to take another step...
"Enough of your rampage!"
Crack! A guest shattered the reception hall wall and burst in.
Three swords at his waist, a dashing hero's headband, a middle-aged face unmarred by decline. It was Three Blades One Flash, the Huangfu Clan's top guest warrior.
He calmly drew his twin blades. His foe had slain two Wind Division members in one go.
At minimum, pinnacle realm. At least his equal, he judged.
'Of all times, the Clan Lord is away subjugating the Divine Cult. I have to handle this!'
The clan, declining ever since losing the young master. The honor fiercely guarded by the Iron Blood Fist King, passed down generations—it might suffer a grievous wound today.
Three Blades One Flash stared the Girl down, as if to crush her with his gaze alone. His stern eyes examined her closely.
No openings visible, as expected. Her identity unknown. The only guess was the Divine Cult's Saintess, their leader. But could this girl, barely past twenty, truly be such an expert?
"Who... exactly are you?"
"I see..."
As Three Blades One Flash gathered his inner energy to the utmost against this unknown foe...
"You have no idea."
The Girl smiled chillingly.
She thought to herself it had been ages since she last smiled.
Baek Hui ran. Charging toward the Huangfu Clan's heart, the towering Huangzheng Pavilion.
The qi churning in his heart fueled his hatred. Killing intent swelled. Amid the frantic crowds, the World Dragon's figure flickered and vanished.
He bit his lip.
Wealth and glory the Tian Clan so desperately craved. The position obtained through filthy deeds—this was it. The head of Guangdong's righteous factions.
Thinking back, he wasn't entirely without grudge against them.
Suddenly, new warriors appeared before the dashing Baek Hui. Faces set in resolve, they directed the people.
Pathetic attempts to stem the rising chaos, he thought in passing.
"Guh..."
The next instant, the corrupted sword was already embedded.
Today, pinnacle experts abounded among his foes. No room for carelessness—from crossing the Huangfu Clan's main gate, he had ceaselessly accumulated his demonic qi.
The Thousand Kills Star sense quietly warned. Black, sticky qi was seeping into his nerves. It would dye his brain slimy.
"Who are you?!"
"Doesn't matter."
An answer to the blocking warrior? Or to his own senses? Indifferently, the corrupted sword claimed another life.
Discomfort blossomed. His body itched faintly. Yet his senses were sharper than ever.
The world was staining red. Red trajectories grew vivid.
Swish. He evaded a strike from behind with half a step.
A technique impossible to dodge. From behind, without warning—near assassination.
"H-How...?"
The startled voice was fleeting. The corrupted blade trembled, then shot out faster than sound.
Shrieeek—!
A quiet groan. Drawing the blade. Flicking off blood with a swing.
Baek Hui gauged the distance to the distant Huangzheng Pavilion. A five-minute walk at a leisurely pace—the path was straight, conveniently.
"Good..."
Emergency bells clanged deafeningly. People fled for their lives. Over a dozen Huangfu Clan warriors surged out to block him.
Baek Hui straightened his stance, raising his sword to mid-guard. The filthy blade tip, smeared with flesh and blood, pointed at the hesitant frontrunner.
"First one."
Squelch. Blood sprayed from the Adam's apple. A young man's head fell. That signaled the start.
Flowing robe hems elegantly deflected attacks; the owner of a missed punch lost an arm. Thud! The sword struck next.
The body slammed into the ground, convulsed, then stilled. The grimy corrupted sword advanced over the corpse.
"Hiiik!"
"Aaaah!"
One step. One breath. That much superiority sufficed. No unseen trajectories, no unreachable strikes.
But his foes couldn't match it. Shadows on the walls wavered. Hands and feet extended, swords swung—then staggered and fell.
The survivors couldn't endure the fear coursing through them. They knew what awaited; no need for Thousand Kills Star senses.
Their quaking bodies and weapons announced it clamorously. A glance around showed all the same.
All but one.
The corrupted sword didn't tremble. Nor waver. No flashy variations or wondrous techniques. Chillingly simple lines. Curves and straights.
Lines of slaughter.
Up to three, the enemies held formation. At five, they tried to halt the sword with their lives.
But at seven, as Baek Hui murmured, one hesitated. At eight, horror dawned in their eyes. By fifteen...
The last warrior turned tail and fled. Baek Hui saw it through his blood-tinged vision.
Whoosh. A silver blade tore the air. The treasured sword burrowed into the victim's back.
Huangzheng Pavilion loomed before him now. Glancing back, strewn corpses filled the view, bringing a refreshing mood.
"Not as hard as I thought."
Had all the experts gone hunting the Girl? He needed to finish up and go aid her.
Baek Hui hurled an oil flask from his bosom. Black liquid spread across the Huangzheng Pavilion floor.
He lit the fire starter. The liquid blazed fiercely. It would take time for the flames to fully catch the wood, but not long.
He stood still, back to the burning Huangzheng Pavilion.
Servants rushed over with water. He considered killing them but let them be, sensing no martial arts.
A wise choice. A new opponent had appeared.
"I have committed a grave sin against our ancestors."
The old man's face was laden with sorrow. His snow-white beard quivered with rage.
Clad in the Huangfu Clan's signature yellow martial robes, raising his fists—he was Huangfu Garen, leader of the Elder Council and master of the Returning Kui Fist.