Chapter 47
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 46
Chapter Title: Severing Cut - 1
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Ghost Fist Huangfu Garyun. He was sixty years old this year.
A wanderer proves his strength by his age as well. He had roamed the world without dying. He had endured years of sleeping with his sword at his bedside.
In the jianghu where death ran rampant, surviving without dying wasn't that the same as being undefeated in life-and-death duels? The shadow of his fist, shaken just once, was said to blot out the sunlight—that was how he earned the moniker of Ghost Fist.
His shrewd, aged eyes scrutinized the man in the bamboo hat.
A tattered changpao and a neglected sword. The blade's tip dragged carelessly along the ground. Any true swordsman ought to cherish his blade like his own life. The Spear Master's famous teaching wasn't "better to die than let go of your sword" for nothing.
At a place where one came to stake their life, this utterly negligent attitude was what first disturbed Huangfu Garyun's composure.
"Hm!"
Even so, the old fist master knew. The one you had to be most wary of was never the enemy—it was yourself.
That arrogant posture might be there, but his opponent had already single-handedly slaughtered the guards left in the clan residence. It couldn't be ruled out as a mere disguise.
If he let his rage get the better of him and made a fool of himself, the fight would only drag on. In this urgent situation where he needed to swiftly subdue the enemy and extinguish the flames of Huangzheng Tower, that very pressure calmed Huangfu Garyun's mind instead.
Huangfu Garyun converted his fury into battle intent. His signature iron-hard fist assumed its battle stance.
He blanked out the burning Huangzheng Tower. He blanked out the gruesome corpses of his blood kin. Before he knew it, a pristine white world of the mind enveloped him, leaving only one enemy behind.
It was a realm where he could even see the movement of a single hair. A place he had reached through long years of experience and effort.
"Hah..."
Yet there existed a man who had possessed that same realm from birth.
As Huangfu Garyun steadied his mind, Bai Hui sheathed his sword. With a smooth shing, the blade, slick with the dead men's oil, slid effortlessly into its scabbard.
The enemy was strong. He could tell without even clashing.
At least stronger than Nangong Dan, whom he had killed. But Bai Hui wasn't intimidated. He simply recalled it.
The sword form heavy as lightning. The White-Clothed Sword Hero's final sword strike—how had he torn through that light wave?
Even retracing it, there was no special secret.
He had simply flung open his demonic arts to the limit and embraced that bizarre demonic power that eroded the mind with all his might. That was all. So he'd do the same again.
"Hee hee."
A strange pleasure washed over him. Whispers echoed in his head.
Kill them, Hui. Kill them all.
That voice resembled the girl's. No, it resembled his mother's. Or perhaps not even that—maybe the voice of some child slain by the Dragon Star Clan's thugs... Bai Hui thought.
Whatever.
The senses he thought had sharpened to their limit awoke even further. Bai Hui closed his eyes. Right now, his vision was nothing but unnecessary interference.
A white world that permitted no intrusion from others. The realm of hyper-sharpened senses, honed to a razor's edge.
The air vibrated. True energy churned.
Huangfu Garyun's fist rose very slowly, then pulled back. Light waves gathered at his fingertips. His arm, unable to contain the surging energy, trembled faintly. And then—
—time froze.
Bai Hui's body leaned subtly forward. His left foot lightly touched the ground. His hand brushed the sword hilt, and then—
Slash.
The sword shot out at utmost speed.
The foul-smelling blade reaped the fist master's arm. Huangfu Garyun had hastily deployed a defensive stance, so it didn't cut too deep.
The old man clutched his severed shoulder. Endless rage surged from his eyes like geysers.
"Why!"
"..."
"Why are you doing this, you madman!"
Huangzheng Tower was a symbol.
It embodied everything the Huangfu Clan had built up over generations. As the Elder Council Leader, he knew that effort down to his bones. Wealth, honor, respect—passed down through the ages.
And all of it met an absurd end.
At the hands of a mysterious master who had infiltrated alone.
He didn't even know his identity. No history. Huangfu Garyun had no grudge against anyone like him in his memory.
Clans were supposed to be meticulous, weighing every move deeply. They never allowed "mysterious enemies of unknown identity" to appear—they pondered carefully to prevent it. The world's top masters were no different.
Those with great martial prowess knew their own value.
They never threw away their lives lightly. The bizarre notion of storming into the Huangfu Clan residence alone and slaughtering everyone wasn't even on the table from the start.
So this defeat shouldn't have happened.
If only it had been a group.
If only a rising new sect, defeated in a desperate last stand because they couldn't match in strategy or martial arts. Then he could have accepted it.
Because their martial arts would remain. Because an honorable name could be etched.
But Huangzheng Tower burned. It turned to ash without leaving a thing behind.
The original manuals detailing the Huangfu Clan's martial arts. Rare books compiling the world's principles. All of it crumbling into cinders without exception.
"Answer me!"
Better to take them without burning! Do you know how many heroes lost their lives to obtain what's inside Huangzheng Tower? Can you even imagine the fortune it cost!
In his boiling resentment, he nearly spat words he shouldn't. He swallowed them forcibly, tears streaming down.
"Ha."
An unexpected laugh.
Huangfu Garyun's eyes widened at the sneer leaking softly from the bamboo hat. Bai Hui swung his sword, scattering blood.
"Sorry. An old memory came to mind for a moment."
"What?"
"I remember asking something similar once. Why did you kill them, I asked."
Before he took up the tyrant sword. Before he lost his mother.
Back when faint hope still lingered, to the girl silhouetted against the sunset.
The small, delicate hand piercing her heart. The warrior vomiting blood and meeting his end.
—Why did you do it?
He hadn't known then. Why the girl killed so easily, why she feared no consequences. Perhaps he still didn't.
Because he never tried to understand the girl. Because he simply wanted to help her on her path.
Now he knew. Huangfu Garyun's blazing hatred, his grudge, showed him. The old man's once-clear eyes were thoroughly stained.
They finally resembled his own.
"You're asking why?"
He had endured. Even when his family fell because he merely won a spar. Even when his father, unable to bear it, took his own life.
He endured. Even when the Tian Clan young master trampled him like a toy.
He could have asked at least once, but he deliberately didn't. He shut his heart and closed his eyes. Endure, endure—it'll pass anyway.
Fifty wen buys a seom of rice.
Fifty wen buys a seom of rice.
Apparently, the world held values more important than human lives. Wealth and power—fools chased them, playing go with others' lives. They weighed lives on scales, priced dignity, tallied abacuses meticulously to derive results. Bai Hui couldn't understand such people.
If he asked, would they offer a convincing explanation?
No.
"..."
Bai Hui looked at Huangfu Garyun. Eyes burning with malice silently demanded an answer. Finally, just like him.
"Why, you ask... Well, the skies were clear today."
A filthy pleasure shivered up his spine. A moment he'd never craved, yet it felt this good—he hadn't known.
His lips twisted involuntarily. Bai Hui's parched eyes, long suppressed, met the old man's gaze.
A look as if seeing something incomprehensible. Utter devastation and shock.
"What does that—"
"The clear weather made me want to cleave a man once. That's all."
The flustered voice that slipped out, and the bizarre reply it drew.
There wasn't even a hint of mockery in the utterly solemn tone. Huangfu Garyun's fine beard quivered at Bai Hui's answer, as if he truly believed it.
"Y-You bastard! And you call yourself human!"
Bai Hui offered no reply in the end. He stood loftily before Huangzheng Tower, hand resting on his sword hilt.
The old Elder Council Leader, unable to contain his fury, lunged with his remaining arm.
Shing. Thud.
The single punch, packed with his lifetime of Skill, missed futilely. The light wave that tore through empty air exploded with a boom, scattering noisily.
"No."
Blood fountained from the old man's half-severed neck. Huangzheng Tower's flames roared fiercer, servants who had desperately tried to douse them screaming as they fled.
The blaze was beyond control now. Bai Hui sheathed his tyrant sword and walked forward with heavy steps.
"But none of you were human either."
Only then did Huangfu Garyun's form crumble. With a thud, the collapsing life muttered its death throes.
Devil... a devil has appeared on this land...
Three Blades One Flash.
Fifty-four years old this year. Over twenty, he had shared countless life-and-death struggles with Iron Blood Fist King. Even in the desperate battle where the young master fell, even when Palm Treasure Blade was sent as a desperate counter—he had been there. He thought he would share life and death with Iron Blood Fist King.
"This can't be."
If he met his end, it would be on the battlefield. Against a worthy foe, dying honorably while protecting Iron Blood Fist King.
"This can't happen!"
"Why not?"
Three broken swords. The forms of Three Blades One Flash, said to have reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship, failed to pierce the opponent's flesh.
Soft skin that seemed untrained in any external arts. A frail-looking build.
An appearance just over twenty.
The Saintess touched the scratch on her cheek. Slowly, the wound began to heal. Three Blades One Flash couldn't believe the sight before his eyes.
Such martial arts shouldn't exist.
The realm of nothingness must not be trespassed lightly. It was something select prodigies built cautiously through elixirs and mind arts, enduring the trials of time.
Yet how could that devil—!
Rustle. The Saintess approached. She grabbed Three Blades One Flash's collar and hauled him up.
"Why can't it?"
The demonic arts relentlessly burning through his nerves showed no mercy.
But it wasn't only excruciating pain. Rather, a sliver of pleasure peeked through.
Thud. A hand burst his heart. The Saintess muttered expressionlessly.
"No reason it can't."
Before long, Huangzheng Tower's flames spread. Fire leaped to the main hall, belching sweltering heat.
The Saintess's eyes pierced through it.
Searching for those versed in inner arts.