Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Demise of the Poison Sword
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“Kuh!”
Jeokgeom, who had been blocking the White Ghost Corps' attacks while fatigued, finally couldn't hold out any longer and let his sword slip from his hand.
Uwek—
Was it from the shock? He vomited up a mass of blood.
The blackened blood mixed with chunks of viscera soiled the front of his robes below his neck.
At that moment, the White Ghost Corps charged again.
Kaang! Kaang!
He managed to block their attacks, but Jeokgeom staggered badly.
The strikes infused with the White Ghost Corps' qi were far too lethal for him, already suffering from internal injuries.
'My hands... they won't grip.'
It wasn't just his hands.
His entire body felt heavy.
He quickly scanned his surroundings.
The situation was spiraling into the worst possible outcome.
The standing junior brothers and sisters could barely hold themselves up, swaying unsteadily.
Jeokgeom's face darkened as he saw they would collapse at the slightest touch.
'So this is the end.'
As time passed, Jeokgeom and the Plum Blossom Sword Guards sensed death closing in. They resigned themselves and tightly shut their eyes.
But then.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Something pitch-black bounced across the ground several times before collapsing with a splat in front of them.
The Plum Blossom Sword Guards opened their eyes at the sudden event and recoiled in shock upon recognizing what it was.
“......!”
“W-What is this?!”
It was a brutally mangled corpse.
Where its head should have been, there was nothing. Its upper body was completely crushed, as if pulverized by a massive boulder.
Step— Step—
Footsteps echoed then.
In the bizarre silence, the steady footsteps were enough to terrify the White Ghost Corps out of their wits.
They turned their heads as if entranced.
A young man was slowly approaching, flames blazing behind him.
The youth wore rare blackish-red robes and was quite tall.
His broad shoulders and visible muscles bespoke extensive training.
But as he drew closer, the White Ghost Corps found themselves captivated not by his physique, but by his eyes.
Behind him, even the roaring inferno seemed swallowed by the cold, pitch-black gaze.
The moment they met those eyes, primal fear and dread buried deep within surged forth.
Finally, one White Ghost Corps member stepped forward to shake off the emotion.
“So there's still one survivor...”
Kwachik!
Brains and blood sprayed everywhere, raining down like a downpour.
The White Ghost Corps members, suddenly drenched in their comrade's blood and brains, were overcome with bewilderment.
They couldn't comprehend what had happened.
His head had suddenly exploded.
An utterly abrupt death.
Yet the White Ghost Corps instinctively knew the youth before them was responsible.
Until moments ago, his right hand had been empty—now it held a gauntleted fist.
“More of you survived than I expected.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth.
Kwachik!
Another head exploded.
This time, the White Ghost Corps saw it clearly.
The pitch-black gauntlet swung wide, shattering a member's skull.
Frozen in horror at the gruesomely ruthless blow, the White Ghost Corps turned pale.
“Martial Uncle...”
“You've... come.”
A voice rose from below then.
Cheonhwi looked down coldly at the Plum Blossom Sword Guards sprawled exhausted on the ground.
They were completely spent.
Jeokgeom and Seollan at least had enough strength left to remain standing.
“Still not enough, huh?”
Jeokgeom and Seollan's relief turned to pallor at Cheonhwi's indifferent tone, and they spoke urgently.
“It's just that...”
“N-No...”
“Enough.”
Cheonhwi slung his scabbard over his shoulder, glared at the White Ghost Corps, and said,
“I'll handle these first. See you later.”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ “Impressive skill.”
The Blood Night Poison Sword couldn't help but exclaim in admiration.
Even against the Blood Night Solo Scripture's Blood Night Technique, Hyeondo wasn't falling behind.
No, he was overwhelming him.
“Quiet.”
But Hyeondo's response was icy.
Inside him burned a heat fiercer than the flames around them.
His opponent was one of White Ghost Castle's Four Directions Lords, an archenemy—naturally.
The Blood Night Poison Sword's eyes darkened.
'I thought him my equal at best...'
This was far beyond the rumors and intelligence White Ghost Castle had gathered.
At minimum, his equal... or perhaps more.
“Our intel on Mount Hua Sect was wrong.”
His murmur was stiff.
He had called him Mount Hua's top swordsman while subtly looking down on the sect.
Gritting his teeth, the Blood Night Poison Sword gripped his sword roughly and twisted his waist sharply.
The motion was eerie.
His left sleeve fluttered in the wind, while his right hand reached behind his back.
As if hiding his sword.
It was the starter form of the Blood Night Sword from the Blood Night Solo Scripture, created by some nameless one-armed swordsman long ago.
Crack— Crack—
Muscles twisted, and an ominous sound rang out. Yet the Blood Night Poison Sword's expression remained utterly serene.
Then his entire body spun.
Shweeeek!
The air was torn asunder.
The sword in his hand whipped out sharply like a lash. Hyeondo calmly channeled his inner energy into his blade in response.
A pure white, transparent qi wrapped around the sword like fine thread, soon encasing the blade solidly like a cocoon.
Sword qi, manifestable only upon stepping into the realm beyond limitlessness.
Kaang!
Sword met sword in collision.
But the result was unexpectedly anticlimactic.
“Kuhk!”
The Blood Night Poison Sword staggered back from the impact.
'...Impossible!'
His eyes widened.
He had struck first with a surprise attack, yet he was the one shocked.
Hyeondo was equally startled, though for different reasons.
'Only this much?'
The Blood Night Poison Sword was among White Ghost Castle's top three masters. Yet his attack was disappointingly weak.
Reading Hyeondo's momentary expression, the Blood Night Poison Sword's eyes changed.
He had always sought and pursued strength.
To master the Blood Night Solo Scripture he had chanced upon as a child, he had even severed his own left arm.
After mastering it and becoming a master, he roamed the jianghu unbound by righteous or evil sects.
But one day, he was defeated.
From then on, his goal shifted.
To fell the White Four Gods who had bested him.
That was why he, neither righteous nor evil, pledged himself to the evil White Ghost Castle.
Yet this man he hadn't even considered an opponent was looking down on him.
His eyes rolled back.
Not just his eyes.
A sinister, sticky aura began emanating from his entire body.
Sensing the drastic shift in presence and atmosphere, Hyeondo slowly expanded his own inner energy.
Then.
Whoosh—
The Blood Night Poison Sword, three zhang away, vanished in a blur and reappeared right before him.
Kaaang!
Their swords clashed.
The massive explosion made onlookers around them clap hands over ears and drop to their knees.
With blades locked, they stared at each other. Then simultaneously poured forth their inner energies.
Kugugung—
The air quaked in terror at their immense powers.
But their expressions differed.
The Blood Night Poison Sword looked desperate, cornered, while Hyeondo remained calm.
Then veins bulged in the Blood Night Poison Sword's eyes, his face flushing red and purple.
“Hup!”
He clenched his teeth, forcing down the rising blood, and glared wide-eyed.
His face was a wreck.
His eyes bloodshot, as if tears of blood would gush forth any moment, a trickle of blood dripped from his mouth.
Whoosh—
Hyeondo twisted his wrist then.
Amid the inner energy clash, he deflected the sword.
Shweeeek!
The Blood Night Poison Sword's blade, brimming with power, slashed uncontrollably.
“......!”
He hastily tried to recover, but already off-balance, he staggered.
Hyeondo wouldn't miss the opening.
Riding the disrupted flow of energy, he unleashed Plum Fragrance Intoxicating Butterfly.
Whiiiing—
The Blood Night Poison Sword rolled his left foot wide in panic at the tickling plum scent and sharp sword intent, spinning in midair.
Whirlik—
His empty sleeve fluttered, enveloping him.
Hyeondo swung at the airborne foe but flinched and retreated.
Shwak!
A sword thrust at where he had stood.
The Blood Night Poison Sword, maintaining focus even in rotation, had stabbed out.
Hyeondo's eyes narrowed as he watched.
'Even with such deep internal wounds, unleashing this swordplay... what tenacity!'
The mental fortitude to swing his sword through pain that would fell an ordinary warrior was astonishing.
Then Hyeondo erupted his inner energy.
“Kuhk!”
The Blood Night Poison Sword vomited blood, struck full-force by the energy storm.
The impact this time was tremendous.
Blood tears finally streamed from his reddened eyes, and a bowlful of blood poured from his mouth down his throat.
His face was a blood-soaked mess.
Yet he didn't stop swinging at Hyeondo.
“Kuhk! I... won't lose!”
His desperate cry, spewing blood everywhere, accompanied a Blood Night Sword swing with overwhelming destructive power compared to before.
His whip-like arm and blade moved to tear Hyeondo apart.
Hyeondo countered with a wide horizontal sweep.
Neither fast nor slow sword form.
But the momentum within was intensely solid, beyond imagination.
It was the Supreme Plum Bewilderment Sword, pinnacle of Mount Hua Sect's sword arts in power.
Shweeeek!
Amid the massive energy storm, a hidden sharp blade targeted the Blood Night Poison Sword.
At last, their swords crossed paths.
Chwaaak!
Blood sprayed, and silence fell.
The Blood Night Poison Sword, drenched head to toe in blood, arduously spoke.
“In the end...”
His voice, still echoing with deep internal injury aftershocks, was utterly hoarse.
Then his hand went slack.
Clang, clang, clang......
The sword bounced a few times before stilling.
Having released the blade that had shared most of his life, he turned his head toward Hyeondo.
His blood-soaked eyes held envy.
Whenever he closed his eyes for long, the massive wall before him mocked his every desperate attempt to surmount it—impossible.
Yet this man before him had reached the Heavenly Martial Realm. How could he not envy?
“......Couldn't... surmount it.”
His voice spread softly like ripples from a droplet in a lake.
Thud!
The Blood Night Poison Sword collapsed, drained of strength.
Hyeondo gazed at the fallen form.
The sword marks on the corpse still flickered with Supreme Plum Bewilderment Qi, like the blazing flames nearby.
“At this level...”
Murmuring, Hyeondo glanced at his sword-gripping palm, then clenched both fists tight.
He had reached the Heavenly Martial Realm but lacked confidence in his own level until now.
Now, certainty dawned.
His current strength was among the jianghu's elite—perhaps even against the White Four Gods...
Flames ignited in his eyes.
His goal: annihilate White Ghost Castle and spread Mount Hua Sect's fame far and wide.
It had drawn one step closer.
As Hyeondo envisioned the future.
“East Commander?!”
A startled voice came from nearby.
Hyeondo turned in alarm to see Ha Woojin struggling against Little White Ghost.
“......Impossible.”
Little White Ghost stared incredulously at the coldly slain Blood Night Poison Sword, then whipped his head around in suspicion.
“......!”
His pupils shook wildly, as if struck by an earthquake.
Too focused on Ha Woojin, he hadn't noticed the White Ghost Corps' presences vanishing.
“Damn it!”
As Little White Ghost's face twisted demonically upon grasping the situation.
“Now you're the last one.”
A chilling voice came from beside him.
Whoosh—
He desperately unleashed Ghost Yin Palm.
But no scream came, nor any impact against his palm from the Yin Wind Claw.
Confounded, he cautiously turned his neck.
A pitch-black wall loomed before him.
A voice came from above then.
“Where do you think you're going?”
Cheonhwi murmured down at Little White Ghost, whose height barely reached his nose.
Tat!
Little White Ghost immediately launched himself away.
'Me, die here?! I'm White Ghost Castle's heir!'
Ignoring footwork, he poured all remaining energy into fleeing.
His blurring form created the illusion of stretching far into the distance.
“Can't let him... Kuh!”
Ha Woojin, pushing off the ground to pursue, staggered and groaned. Aftereffects from injuries sustained battling Little White Ghost.
Then.
“What a pain.”
Cheonhwi lightly stomped.
Whoosh—
His form vanished in an instant.
“Gek!”
The fleeing Little White Ghost jolted.
In his frantic escape, his collar snagged somewhere, choking him.
“Kek, kek.”
As he coughed from the neck pain, a shadow fell over him.
Cheonhwi, who had snatched his collar in a flash, looked down and spoke.
“You thought you could commit such atrocities and escape alive?”
“Ke, kek. Sp-Spare...”
Forgetting pride, Little White Ghost groveled pathetically on all fours.
“What? Spare you?”
At those words, Little White Ghost shot upright and nodded vigorously.
Cheonhwi's lips twisted.
“Why should I?”
As Little White Ghost paled at the icy smile.
Kwachik!
Cheonhwi crushed his head underfoot.
Brains and blood splattered everywhere.
Cheonhwi casually brushed the splatters from his robes, gazed coldly at the corpse, then turned away.
“Now it's time to uproot them completely.”