Chapter 275: It Reached Me Well Enough
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 275: It Reached Me Well Enough
"How... how did this happen?"
Sun-woo asked the Sword Man in a trembling voice. His face was a mask of pure shock.
"What do you mean?" the Sword Man asked with a faint smile.
"How... was my Sword Ring cut?"
Sun-woo asked as if he couldn't comprehend the reality before him. He simply didn't understand how his Sword Ring could have been severed.
What was a Sword Ring?
Short for Sword Astral Compression Ring, it was a technique representing the absolute pinnacle of Astral Qi mastery. How could such a thing be cut?
In the world of martial arts, pushing the internal energy accumulated in the dantian into one's body or weapon to radiate power is called Sword Qi. The level of mastery where one can freely manipulate this Qi to harm others is known as the realm of Sword Qi Injury.
Beyond that is the realm where Sword Qi is condensed and solidified until it becomes visible to the naked eye—a tangible, manifested form. This is called Sword Qi Astral Transformation, or simply, Sword Astral.
If Sword Qi is a technique focused on cutting power, Sword Astral combines that cutting power with sheer destructive force. It cleaves and destroys simultaneously upon contact.
Then what of the Sword Ring?
The Sword Ring, or Sword Astral Compression Ring, was the zenith of Astral Qi techniques. It involved compressing the destructive Sword Astral into a spherical shape, maximizing both its density and its explosive power.
Yet, that very Sword Ring had been cut in an instant.
And it had been done by a sword imbued with no internal energy at all. How could such a feat be possible?
"I simply willed it to be cut," the Sword Man replied calmly.
"I don't understand. How can you cut something just because you 'will' it? There was no energy in your blade, Senior!" Sun-woo raised his voice, his mind reeling at the impossibility.
No matter how much of a master one was, how could they cut a Sword Ring without internal energy?
"One does not always need to be draped in internal energy," the Sword Man said with a slight smile. "It is enough for the blade to respond to the will to cut."
"..."
Hearing this, Sun-woo stared silently at the man's sword. Then, he looked down at his own blade, which had already been severed.
What was the difference between their two swords?
Sun-woo slowly closed his eyes. He began to recall every strike the Sword Man had unleashed.
His swordsmanship was unpredictable. At times, it was profound and fluid, like a disciple of the Wudang Sect who had refined his craft for decades in a secluded valley. At other times, it was coarse and violent, like a ronin swinging his blade purely to survive on a battlefield.
There was no fixed style, no singular identity. His swordsmanship changed at will according to the situation, much like a sword itself, which takes on whatever form its wielder requires.
That was it. He had simply become a sword.
Pop.
In that moment, Sun-woo felt a sudden sense of clarity, as if a blockage in his mind had cleared. Enlightenment rushed over him like a tidal wave. He finally understood what the Sword Man meant by becoming "a single sword."
The "single sword" he spoke of wasn't merely the Union of Body and Sword. It referred to a state of ultimate mastery that could eventually encompass every kind of sword technique in existence.
All Streams Return to the Origin.
Yes. The "single sword" he spoke of was the embodiment of All Streams Return to the Origin.
Sun-woo slowly raised his broken sword. He began to swing.
There were no set forms in his movements. He simply swung as his heart dictated, as his hand moved. And within those spontaneous movements, countless forms began to manifest.
Whoosh.
The sword swung. It contained the profundity and fluidity of a Taoist who had polished his blade for decades in the deep mountains.
Whoosh.
The sword swung again. It held the cruelty and violence of a ronin who had spent decades thrusting to survive and slashing to kill on the battlefield.
Whoosh.
The sword swung once more. It carried the desperation and rage of an avenger who had trained for decades for the sole purpose of retribution.
Every time Sun-woo swung his sword, its character shifted again and again.
Whoosh.
Whoosh.
Sun-woo swung his sword repeatedly, driven by the single-minded thought of embodying every sword technique in the world.
*
How long had he been swinging?
Eventually, Sun-woo slowly relaxed his grip.
Clang.
The sword fell from his hand and hit the ground. Sun-woo stared at the fallen blade for a moment before slowly raising his head to look at the Sword Man.
The Sword Man was watching him with a small smile.
"What you showed me... was the Heart Sword," Sun-woo said in a calm tone.
"Have you finally realized?" the Sword Man asked, his smile deepening.
"I could see it once I climbed a little higher," Sun-woo replied, his expression serene.
"Did you break through the wall?"
"I don't know. But I can promise you one thing."
"And what is that?"
"That I can show you a different sword than before."
"Heh... I look forward to it." The Sword Man’s smile grew even wider. "Have you reached the state where All Streams Return to the Origin?"
"I have only just dipped my toe in."
"At your age, even that is a grand achievement," the Sword Man praised, his lips curling upward.
"Even so, I've become greedy."
"What kind of greed?" the Sword Man asked curiously.
"The greed to surpass you, Senior."
"Hahaha! It is an honor to be your goal."
"You are more than worthy of it."
Sun-woo spoke with a determined expression. To him, the Sword Man was no different from a teacher when it came to the way of the sword. Without meeting him, Sun-woo certainly wouldn't have grown this much.
And so, a craving was born. The craving to surpass him.
"A competitive spirit is a fine motivation."
The Sword Man slowly raised his sword.
"Come."
He looked at Sun-woo and beckoned.
Whirrr!
Sun-woo unfurled the Dragon Tail Soft Sword from his waist. The flexible blade revealed its supple form. As Sun-woo injected his internal energy, the whip-like sword stiffened, standing straight and true.
"It will be different this time."
With those words, Sun-woo lunged at the Sword Man. The Sword Man met his gaze with a smile full of delight.
It was the start of a joyous sword dance.
BOOM!
A massive roar erupted as Sun-woo and the Sword Man’s blades collided.
*
Thud.
Sun-woo collapsed where he stood.
Clang.
He let go of his sword. He didn't even have the strength left to hold it.
Sun-woo knew. He knew he had been utterly defeated.
Even though he had broken through the wall and climbed higher, even though he had realized what it meant to become a single sword, reaching the man still felt like a distant dream.
Yet, strangely, a smile touched his lips. He was frustrated, certainly, but he had shown the Sword Man everything he had. He couldn't have done any better than that.
He could only smile because he had left nothing on the table.
Sun-woo slowly raised his head to look at the Sword Man.
"I'm sorry. In the end, I couldn't reach you."
"No," the Sword Man said, shaking his head. "You reached me well enough."
He lifted his arm, showing a severed sleeve. A deep smile was etched on his face.
Seeing that, Sun-woo let out a bright smile of his own.
On this day, for the first time, Sun-woo had truly reached the Sword Man.
*
Inside a massive command tent.
A man sat leaning back in a chair. With his hair neatly tied up and a well-groomed beard, he gave off an exceptionally sharp and clean impression. He wore magnificent, ink-colored armor that radiated a natural sense of dignity.
This man was Lee Yeon, the First Sword of the Imperial Palace and the man known as the Butcher of the North.
Lee Yeon sat perfectly still with his eyes closed.
"General! It is your deputy, Gyu-do!" a loud voice boomed from outside the tent.
"Enter," Lee Yeon said slowly.
With his permission, a rough-looking man stepped into the tent. It was Gyu-do, a deputy of the Northern Army.
"What is it?" Lee Yeon asked in a disinterested voice.
"An urgent dispatch has arrived from the Imperial Palace."
"An urgent dispatch?" Lee Yeon repeated, sounding intrigued.
"Yes, sir!"
Lee Yeon slowly reached out his hand. Gyu-do quickly placed the letter upon it.
Rustle.
Lee Yeon took the letter and began to scan its contents.
"Hmm."
Before long, his brow furrowed slightly. It seemed he didn't care for what was written.
Whoosh!
Lee Yeon ignited his Samadhi True Fire and burned the letter to ashes on the spot.
"You may leave," he commanded, issuing an expulsion order to Gyu-do.
"Understood, General!" Gyu-do bowed deeply and exited the tent.
"Hmm..."
Once Gyu-do was gone, Lee Yeon let out a low groan, his expression turning grave. He had just learned something completely unexpected.
"To think she actually left the detached palace."
The content of the letter was simple. Princess Gyeonghwa had left her palace, and the order was to capture her. She would almost certainly be heading for the North Sea.
"Princess Gyeonghwa... Gyeonghwa..."
Lee Yeon muttered her name several times, lost in thought. He was contemplating how to carry out the order.
Lee Yeon hated Princess Gyeonghwa. He hated her immensely.
She had only appeared on the scene about eight years ago, yet her fame and prestige already rivaled his own—and he had protected the Imperial Palace alone for decades.
Lee Yeon did not welcome her rise. Many said that he and Princess Gyeonghwa were the two dragons protecting the Imperial Palace. He loathed that comparison.
In his mind, he should be the sole protector of the palace. He took immense pride in being the only guardian of the Imperial Court.
That pride had begun to crack because of a mere girl who hadn't even reached the Age of Thirty. Not only her martial arts but even her military achievements were starting to catch up to his.
Lee Yeon harbored a deep inferiority complex toward her—toward the girl who had matched in eight years what had taken him decades to build.
Because of this, he had rejoiced when Princess Gyeonghwa lost control of her fire energy. He saw it as a golden opportunity to remind the world who the true First Sword of the Imperial Palace was.
Even when the Emperor ordered him to find Ice Essence to cure her, Lee Yeon had other plans. He intended to destroy the Ice Essence the moment he found it, ensuring she could never be healed.
And now, that very woman had left her palace and come to the North Sea. How could he not harbor darker thoughts?
Lee Yeon realized that perhaps the greatest opportunity of his life had arrived.
If she managed to obtain the Ice Essence and cure her Qi Deviation, she would solidify her position as a guardian of the palace once more. Above all, she was young. She would only grow stronger, and eventually, she would surpass even him.
If that happened, he would lose his title as the First Sword of the Imperial Palace.
He couldn't stand it. He was a man who lived for the pride of having protected the palace alone his entire life. To lose that honor was a fate more shameful and humiliating than death.
He couldn't let that happen.
He had to kill her. He had to find a way to kill her during this mission.
Any thought of her being a member of the Imperial bloodline, carrying the blood of the Son of Heaven, had long since vanished from his mind. Only the ugly desire to eliminate the object of his jealousy remained.
Lee Yeon mused that "unfortunate accidents" could happen to anyone at any time.
Whether they were a peasant, a merchant, an official... or even a Princess.
A deep murderous aura began to flicker in Lee Yeon's eyes.
Princess Gyeonghwa would die. In an unfortunate accident.
His mind made up, Lee Yeon slowly rose from his seat and walked out of the tent. He intended to move toward the most likely place she would be.
A place where there might be clues about the Ice Essence. A place located in the center of the North Sea, making travel in any direction easy. A place with the largest settlement in the North Sea, making it the best spot to gather information.
The North Sea Ice Palace.
With his eyes gleaming, Lee Yeon quickened his pace.