Chapter 163
Chapter 163
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 163
Chapter Title: Decided in One Exchange
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The match will be decided in one exchange.
I took in the sight of the purple flames with my eyes.
An ominous flame.
The moment those flames ignited, I thought I'd erased all swordsmanship and movements from my mind...
But looking at the Yin-Yang Sword, I couldn't stop the image of Eldest Martial Brother from surfacing naturally.
Of course, Eldest Martial Brother was deeply versed in spear arts and swordsmanship alike. In truth, his fist techniques were on a level far beyond mine.
Back when we were on Spirit Mountain, I'd sparred with him often.
Unlike with Master, spars with Eldest Martial Brother never left me badly hurt or injured above all, they were kind.
The polar opposite of Master's near-neglectful guidance?
In that process, he'd shown me countless starting stances.
Stances focused on destructive power.
Stances focused on defense.
Stances focused on evasion.
'What I need right now...'
The fastest single strike.
With purple flames cloaking the Yin-Yang Sword, destructive power wouldn't be lacking. I was certain, even though I'd never used it before.
Suuu...
I regulated my breathing and assumed my stance.
With no scabbard, let alone belt, at my waist, I positioned the Yin-Yang Sword as if sheathed at my hip, bending my upper body slightly.
My bent right wrist lightly gripped the blade. The swirling purple flames subsided, and the blade's chilling edge became palpable.
It wasn't that I'd withdrawn the flames.
I'd condensed them into the blade.
"......"
This was my first time using a drawing technique.
I wasn't sure if I'd pull it off successfully, but I couldn't ignore the sudden inspiration that had struck me.
[You seem ready.]
I nodded at Kazita's words.
I felt a twinge of gratitude that he'd waited without protest, and understanding dawned at the same time.
He must have sensed it too—this duel would be settled in a single moment.
Suuuu...
Kazita raised his aura.
He aimed both open palms at me, pulling his left arm back near his chest while thrusting his right toward me.
His waist and knees slightly bent.
It was a bizarre stance I'd never seen before...
Was it because of the ink-black armor?
Or the aura rising from his entire body?
It evoked the graceful elegance of an ancient artwork, or the solemn weight of armor on display.
At least tens of thousands of times.
Only through boringly repetitive motions could a master's aura form even faintly like this.
'Planning to use palm projection again, huh.'
The fact that it annoyed me was proof his judgment was spot-on.
If it was an attack emitting qi from his palm, it could make my purple flames recoil in an instant.
No matter how hot or persistent, its essence was still flame.
So the situation simplified nicely.
A contest of speed.
The ignition of my flames versus the release of his.
Drawing the sword against palm projection.
'......'
The pain in my thigh was distracting.
That was why I wasn't counting on high odds, even with the new power of purple flames in hand.
The thigh muscles were the most crucial for explosive speed, but ever since Kazita's single punch, all I felt was throbbing pain.
My right wrist, wrapped around the blade, wasn't in good shape either—a minus factor.
- The essence of drawing the sword lies in the lower body.
Eldest Martial Brother's voice flashed through my mind.
He always maintained a serious demeanor when teaching, forcing even a guy like me to concentrate fully.
- Drawing the sword is done with the upper body, right? Strange words. But that's the truth.
- Abs, waist, thighs, even the soles of your feet... Coordinate every muscle in the body as one, twisting it out with that sensation. Align not just the muscles, but every single cell in the same direction.
- That's the secret to ultimate speed. Of course, the hands play a big role too. Pull with the right, push with the left.
- Ah. Come to think of it, you're a lefty, aren't you, Little Bro?
'......'
It hit me anew: an obvious fact.
The one who'd left the second-most mark on my martial arts, after Master, was Eldest Martial Brother.
Teachings I'd briefly forgotten resurfaced as vividly as if heard yesterday.
The scenery from back then, the smell of the air, my feelings at the time, Eldest Martial Brother's easygoing face and faint smile—all crystal clear.
'I'm in no state to draw properly.'
No scabbard, wrist smashed, thigh muscles trembling like jelly.
My pathetic state nearly made me chuckle, but I accepted it humbly.
In truth, real combat was mostly like this.
Expecting perfect condition in every fight, especially life-or-death moments, was arrogance.
Whoosh-.
The hellfire that had consumed all directions went out.
Space and time seemed to be sucked into Kazita's palm.
'Here it comes.'
At that same instant, I held my breath.
Squeezing out every last drop of my scant inner energy, my entire body focused on one motion.
Draw the sword.
────.
The Yin-Yang Sword slid free without a sound. Purple flames flashed like lightning. A rumble—like thunder—echoed out.
'Ah.'
It wasn't noise from the draw. I'd naturally stepped into Thunder Heaven Step.
Fwoosh!
The moment the vanished purple flames surged back...
Kazita loomed right before my eyes.
[......]
His expression was still unreadable, but in that instant, I felt like a demon grinning in delight.
Not an illusion—truth.
The emotional exchange between warriors sometimes happens through techniques. Even if I were blind like Second Brother, I'd have been certain.
Thud.
A somewhat feeble sound followed.
I swallowed a groan by force.
I'd taken no direct hit, but the backlash from wringing out my energy to the limit and overtaxing my muscles crashed in.
"......"
The shock reached my organs; a metallic taste rose in my throat.
I forced it down, maintaining composure.
Just this once, I didn't want to look pathetic.
[You condensed the flames into a single blade.]
"Yeah."
[Does it have a name?]
Kazita asked in a flat tone.
I pondered briefly before replying.
"Ignition."
[Straightforward. It suits you.]
Crack-.
Cracks spiderwebbed across Kazita's full-body armor, then it shattered to pieces.
Fragments of the broken ink-black armor scattered everywhere. Trailing sparks like tails, the spectacle resembled fireworks.
Was the armor a seal?
Kazita's hellfire erupted skyward as if suddenly freed, then sank in an instant.
Embers fell like snowflakes, softly illuminating the underground prison.
"......"
Even I, a stoic guy, was momentarily awestruck.
It was that beautiful a sight.
From the fireflies drifting and scattering came a voice.
[My defeat, Ruan Bednicker.]
"......"
[A shame. Facing your further growth with my true power... would have been fun...]
I slowly sheathed the sword.
We met. We clashed. It was settled.
One side died.
A thoroughly martial outcome, an ending.
Paradoxically, satisfaction laced Kazita's voice of regret.
I understood that sentiment.
If I'd been the loser, I'd have felt the same toward Kazita.
I hesitated briefly, then followed my heart.
Bowing with clasped fists, I said,
"...I learned greatly from that one exchange."
I'd gained much from this fight.
Insights only won at the risk of life. Separate from the achievement of purple flames.
I now knew what I lacked—not just intellectually, but etched deep in my heart like a maxim.
Such realization changes one's mindset, leading to true improvement.
In other words, Kazita was truly a warrior.
I hadn't believed it at first, doubted midway, but now I accepted it.
As I sank into heavy aftertaste.
[You...]
Kazita, on the verge of vanishing, said something unexpected.
[Have already met my lord. I sense his presence on you...]
"The Blood-Moon Demon King? Haven't met him yet."
Kazita let out a laugh.
[My lord is not Harden Ihar...]
"What?"
[The beacon of the Black Sea that even embraces hellfire... The proclaimer in the abyss... And master of the black swamp...]
"......"
Kazita's mutterings sent chills down my spine.
[My one and only lord... O Nine... Forgive this disloyalty as I meet my end in the hidden world...]
Then the embers fully died.
All that remained in the underground prison was the armor that had encased Kazita's body, standing alone.
With the hellfire gone, the prison regained its inherent chill and desolation.
"......"
But I could only stand frozen in place.
'The presence of the Black Swamp Demon King lingers on me?'
How?
I'd met that Demon King during the training session before my regression.
In this life, I hadn't faced Nine yet.
"Ugh..."
Unable to follow the thought, I collapsed right there. Agony surged through my body like waves.
Not just inner energy depletion or physical fatigue.
A side effect of the purple flames?
'Way worse than White Flower.'
Exhaustion coursed through me; I couldn't twitch a finger.
Thanks to the hellfire's aftermath?
The lingering heat on the floor wrapped my body comfortably. So drowsy. Just a bit longer—even ten minutes of shut-eye would do.
"Amazing. To think you'd beat a legion commander."
"......"
A clear voice shattered my wish.
Too drained to lift my head, I asked from my prone position.
"...Dean Alderson?"
"Saved, of course. It'll take time for him to come to, though..."
"......"
"But you're the problem. Aren't you about to die? You look awful."
Heh heh. Leone's low chuckle reached me.
"Full-body burns, right wrist smashed, thigh muscles completely torn. Internal damage seems severe too... and above all."
In that moment, I felt hair brushing softly against me.
For a second, it was absurd.
Was this guy petting my head?
"Your pretty platinum hair's a mess. Heartbreaking."
"...Get your hand off. I really feel like I'm dying. Got any potions or something?"
"As if."
Leone, who'd been stroking my hair with a grin, suddenly gripped my scalp tight and said,
"...But to my followers, this body is relatively omnipotent."
"......!"
Boom!
Energy flooded from Leone's palm like a torrent.
Directly infusing qi into the upper dantian was usually extremely dangerous...
What magic had he worked?
The energy Leone injected seeped naturally into my upper dantian, then coursed through my meridians without blockage.
The real miracle happened next.
"......!"
My body began regenerating at rapid speed.
Beyond recovery—true regeneration.
Horribly burned skin regained its color and elasticity; dried eyes, scorched airways, and ruptured organs were repaired.
Large and small bruises across my body vanished quickly; my broken wrist returned to normal.
"...What the hell."
Mental fatigue lingered, eyelids still heavy...
But my half-crippled body was pristine in a blink.
A literal miracle.
Leone said with a satisfied look.
"Excellent effect, as expected. Against a High Priest, drugs hit just right."
"What'd you say?"
"Excellent effect."
"After that."
"Against a High Priest, drugs hit just right."
I met Leone's gaze for a moment.
"...High Priest?"
"Yeah."
"Who."
"You."
Leone looked at my speechless face and continued.
"Congrats, by the way. First colorless High Priest I've seen. How's it feel to be one after a century?"
"......"
"Ruan Bednicker? You look pale."
...In other words.
I, the youngest son of the Bednicker Family, was actually the High Priest of the Dark Cult?
Mental fatigue from the bloody battle.
Unable to process the sudden info, my brain stuttered.
"...Gah."
I blacked out.