Chapter 105
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: Chapter 21: Step by Step, Slowly (5)
There are no miracles.
I'd taken the white ants just in case, but they didn't heal my internal injuries.
That meant I had to fight in my current state.
- There will come a time when you must contemplate death. Inevitably, at some point. When that moment arrives, embrace it with the calmest of hearts. Just as you send others on their way peacefully, go yourself in peace.
Keep a calm mind.
But that's the hard part. Killing others brings no-mind easily, yet when it's yourself on the line, your heart races and your thoughts tangle.
Settling the mind isn't simple.
In truth, it's impossible. No one can face death with true peace. That's why people like me are needed for the dying.
Even Four Thousand Four can't manage it.
So most people stir excitement instead of calm. They summon tension. It's far easier to meet death in a state of high alert.
What's the difference between dying excited or dying peacefully?
Four Thousand Four can't grasp that distinction. To him, a peaceful death and one frenzied with tension seem no different.
Both end in an instant—gone!
Understanding this takes years. Not something grasped overnight or through mere knowledge. You need the wisdom of age, at least.
He closed his eyes, lingering in the Nineteen Hells.
The reason for closing his eyes... not seeing, just listening with his ears, eased his mind a little. It resembled the old man's peaceful state.
He feared death too.
No one stands indifferent before it. He was just one of them.
The moment had come to ponder the old man's words on death.
He drew Hwarin and gripped it.
Hwarin shines only in ambushes. If they're prepared, it loses its edge.
They knew about Hwarin. They were ready.
'Hoo!'
He drew a long breath.
This wasn't the time to think of death. It was time to meet it. No miracles would save him, no help would come. Everything would unfold exactly as he chose.
He split the two Hwarins between his hands.
'Hooo!'
He exhaled slowly, waiting.
Sst! Sssut!
Two split to the sides.
The one to the left moved with heavy, forceful steps. Wild Soul Peak Sword Huang Su. The one to the right was calm, stealthy, quiet—Blue Water Shang Dao Yi Song.
They took positions and halted.
Sst! Sssst!
Two more blocked front and back.
Of course, they were invisible, moving unseen. Yet he saw them, and they saw him—seeing without being seen.
Would the sides strike first, or the front and back?
Basrak!
A rustle of leaves from a distance.
The sound of the interferer disrupting the fight. He'd panted heavily just moments ago.
He drew closer.
But the Shangin Sword Disciples encircling Four Thousand Four didn't twitch. They ignored the interferer's noises entirely. Their eyes were only on Four Thousand Four.
Four Thousand Four chose self-destruction.
He wouldn't throw the Hwarin. He'd detonate it on his own body. They'd attack the burning form, and the first two to strike would die with him.
Take two down with him.
That was the best. The ultimate ploy for a body that couldn't move.
So even with eyes closed, his mind didn't falter.
He listened. For their approach. Judging the perfect moment to trigger Hwarin.
'Come on. Anytime.'
Their silence unnerved him.
They showed no sign of moving. They knew their positions were known, yet they held still.
The bastard would counterattack.
No doubt. Once the assault began, he'd strike back. And that counter... it couldn't be ignored. Especially from Four Thousand Four.
'We have to attack!'
Cold sweat beaded on Wild Soul Peak Sword Huang Su's forehead.
He held the initiative. His attack would signal the others.
Sssut!
He raised his sword to shoulder height.
The height didn't matter. Once they engaged, it'd be brutal close-quarters brawl, beyond sword stances.
'One, two, three.'
He double-checked his juniors' positions.
Prime spots for attack. From there, they'd crush Four Thousand Four in an instant.
'Good!'
Huang Su committed.
Shiiit! Tssaaak!
The first blade slashed. Then the three others exploded forth.
Pararak! Parararak!
Darts rained like hail.
Shangin Sword Disciples didn't use darts. The interferer had thrown them.
But the darts changed nothing in this fight.
Tssak! Thud thud thud!
Flesh tore in rapid bursts.
The Shangin blades struck true, shredding Four Thousand Four. Four swords pulverized one man simultaneously.
"Got him!"
Huang Su shouted unwittingly. Then—
Puwak! Puwak!
The impaled flesh spoke. Countered. Flames erupted.
"Dodge!"
The Shangin Sword Disciples leaped back.
Hwarin was powdered. It spread through the air, radius up to ten zhang.
"Damn!"
"Shit!"
They frantically shed burning clothes.
Flames clung to robes and scabbards. Off came the overrobes, tossed scabbards.
Luckily, no flesh burned.
Had it seared skin, they'd have carved it out. Arm aflame? Amputation.
Dire for Four Thousand Four, but he'd used Hwarin before. He knew its blast and reach well.
They'd prepared thoroughly.
Cornered, self-destruction was his final play.
And he'd executed it flawlessly.
Hwaruruk! Hwaruruk!
Flames devoured the corpse.
Four Thousand Four burned, arms outstretched, Hwarin detonation his final form.
"Really over?"
Blue Water Shang Dao Yi Song tilted his head.
Four Thousand Four was vicious. Killing him should've cost one or two Shangin heavy losses... This was too easy.
"It's done."
Lightning Specter Wave Kun Xue sheathed his sword.
White ants collapsed under the burning body like dominoes.
Some crawled toward the flames, moths to fire, leaping in. Absurd... but the ants suicided.
White ants pursued only Four Thousand Four.
Even now, engulfed, they chased him.
"See his last expression?"
Yi Song asked.
Only Wild Soul Peak Sword Huang Su had seen it.
"I did."
Huang Su said curtly.
Four Thousand Four glared through agony-twisted features. Indifferent eyes, dead man's eyes—cold, ruthless.
No scream despite the blades.
Instead, icy eyes said: You'll die too. Then Hwarin detonated.
"Eyes I don't want to remember."
Huang Su added.
Hwarururuk!
Hwarin reduced Four Thousand Four to ash.
"Going out like this?"
Hanbi said gloomily.
"He's really dead?"
Jaja echoed in disbelief.
They'd watched wide-eyed, yet couldn't believe.
"Yeah. He's gone."
Fox muttered weakly.
All felt the brief bond severed. Four Thousand Four gone forever.
Fox found a small iron core amid the corpse.
The bowstring clasp. Melted metal, black and glossy—recognizable at a glance.
Four Thousand Four's wooden bow.
"He's really dead."
Fox's murmur carried a sob.
"Grew attached, huh?"
Jaja comforted him.
"Nineteen Hells survivor. Escaped together."
Fox mumbled evasively. Afraid they'd see his heart, force a confession of fondness. Or sense it first.
Truth was... they all knew.
A man fond of another man... not quite brotherhood. Like lovers, almost.
Gave Hwarin, worried more than self, begged non-interference yet disrupted, even hurled darts at the end.
"Let's go."
Vanguard said somberly.
Even now, Four Thousand Four's death felt unreal. But they'd seen it clear: blades, then flames.
Vanguard departed.
Fox followed, glancing back repeatedly.
"That was... Four Thousand Four?"
"It was."
"He's really... dead?"
"Think the Shangin Sword Disciples misidentified? No one else there, no chance they missed him, no other with Hwarin."
"I know, I know... Just too anticlimactic for him."
"So what's your plan now?"
"With Four Thousand Four dead... watch Vanguard. But he won't last long. Tail-cutting, you know. Heavenly Annihilation Division cuts clean."
"If we protect him?"
"Even overt protection won't save him. Assassins, after all."
"Hm! Back to square one?"
"Not quite. We lost a Shangin Guest. Huge blow for us."
"They lost six squads too—not nothing."
"A hundred of theirs don't match one Shangin Guest. We took a massive hit."
"Hm. Got it. Pull them out then?"
"Yes. No need for Ten Directions Chain now Four Thousand Four's gone. But observe results? Leave one or two on Vanguard. Confirm his end."
"Understood."
Zhuge Myeong turned away.
Zhuge Soso stared at the charred spot.
She'd watched him die... yet couldn't believe. Such a man, gone.