Chapter 89: The Sword Demon
Chapter 89: The Sword Demon
Chapter 89: The Sword Demon
Translation: Godtl
His senses were hazy.
His mind was dazed, as if he were trapped in a dream. His ears were filled with the pounding sound of his own heart, and in his vision, there was only what needed to be cut down and what had already been cut down.
"Huu..."
A deep exhale. But the air he inhaled was thick with the stench of burning and blood.
I simply swung my sword, chasing the faint echoes of the past—the trajectory of the most beautiful moment I had ever known.
Ssskuk.
Unable to clearly distinguish between illusion and reality, I relied on my qi senses instead of my dull, half-useless five senses.
What is the difference between inner energy infused with killing intent and killing intent infused with inner energy?
In the end, there is no difference.
Those who tremble at my killing intent cannot escape my perception. Not a single one among the Black Sky Sword Sect could elude my awareness.
Some collapsed to the ground, shaking in fear. Some clenched their teeth, brandishing their swords. Others screamed wildly, as if trying to deny their own terror.
But I could feel it all.
I knew what they were doing, what they were aiming for—even if I couldn't see them, I could sense it.
Especially those who harbored killing intent toward me.
The only thing left to do was to slip my sword into the already dismantled sword techniques of the Black Sky Sword Sect.
By severing the flow of their swordplay, I severed their lives.
Ssskuk...
"How…!"
A man, addressed as an elder, yet barely at the Peak Stage, clutched his blood-soaked abdomen, his face twisted in shock.
"You! You wretched spawn of our enemy! Where did you steal the Black Sky Sword Sect's techniques from?!"
"Spawn?"
Did they think they had seen us hiding together? It seemed Seo Mun-Hwarin's efforts hadn't been entirely in vain if that was how they perceived us.
But there was something far more important right now.
"I see. So to you, I am the spawn of an enemy. But to me, the Black Sky Sword Sect is the enemy itself."
To speak something aloud gives it power.
Black Sky Sword Sect. Enemy.
Just uttering those words caused my vision to reflect a scene from my mind.
The boundary between past and present collapsed, and before I knew it, I was standing in the heart of the crumbling Ironblood Hall.
Seo Mun-Hwarin told me to forget.
But how could I possibly forget?
I know this is Qi Deviation.
I am fully aware that I am forcefully recalling and clinging to a demon of my past.
But even knowing that—there are some things one simply cannot control.
My time had been frozen in this moment for far too long.
Tang Sowol had pushed my back, urging me forward, yet she too had crumbled before my eyes.
Nothing had changed.
I had always lost the things most precious to me.
Even when I swore I would never let go again—I lost them.
My birth parents, my newfound family, my lover, my future…
Even the life they wished for me to preserve in their final moments.
Nothing remained.
Everything slipped through my fingers like grains of sand.
And those losses had accumulated, layer by layer, at the bottom of my heart.
Resentment that had nowhere to go.
Regret.
Wailing grief.
Killing intent.
How could I possibly deny the existence of the Demonic Cult within me?
I could insult them as foolish, ridicule them for heading in the wrong direction, but I could never bring myself to tell them to abandon their vengeance.
Not when I had built up such a towering demon within myself.
And now, the dam I had barely been holding together was crumbling.
Once a dam bursts, it does not stop until every last drop is spilled.
Before I realized it, a low growl rumbled from my throat.
"Today, all of you will die."
The warriors of the Black Sky Sword Sect trembled violently under the suffocating pressure of my killing intent.
"Struggle all you want—you will die. Beg for your lives—you will die. Run away—you will die. Do nothing—you will still die."
Most of the first-class warriors who had accompanied them had already breathed their last.
Only two Peak Stage warriors remained, their resistance futile.
Grinding his teeth, the Sect Master of the Black Sky Sword Sect stood before me, having lost nearly all his subordinates before he could even make a move.
I pointed my sword at him.
"The Black Sky Sword Sect will be annihilated once more today."
"You bastard…!"
The Sect Master, consumed by rage, surged forward, black sword energy streaming from his blade.
His momentum was fitting for someone at the Sub-Perfection Stage.
His force was intimidating enough to slightly dull my movements.
But that was all.
He was still a master above my current level, and one day, he would likely reach the Flowering Stage.
He had the talent and the tenacity.
But what of it?
What mattered was that this man had once cut down Seol Lihyang.
That he had pierced Seo Mun-Hwarin’s heart.
Though those events had not yet happened, his blind thirst for vengeance would inevitably reach her someday.
The endless cycle of resentment.
If I didn’t sever it here, I would lose again.
And so, I had no choice but to end it now.
By ensuring there was nothing left to fester.
Grit.
I clenched my teeth and pushed the Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art to its peak.
A dark red aura surged over my blade, enshrouding it completely.
The violent sword energy pulsed with thick, tangible killing intent, its potency beyond comparison to ordinary sword qi.
But it was still not enough.
I squeezed the very core of my dantian, not just drawing out my mindscape, but layering it onto myself.
Remember.
What had I thought about as I swallowed the blood of countless foes?
Swinging a sword simply because I was hungry wasn’t enough.
Pride alone, the refusal to be disregarded, was not enough.
I cut.
Because I must.
Because I want to.
Because even if it is something I cannot cut—I will cut it nonetheless.
My dantian twisted, my energy channels contorted.
But in exchange, my inner energy erupted with even greater ferocity.
A sharp pain spread through me, and my narrowing vision was stained red.
So red that I could no longer distinguish whether it was fire, blood, or sword energy.
But there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty.
In this cursed world, there was only myself and my sword.
Only myself and my sword remained.
"Ah."
Gripping my sword’s hilt, I felt a peculiar sensation, as if its roots had embedded into my palm.
As if my arm had elongated, seamlessly becoming the sword itself.
Or perhaps, the sword had become a part of me.
Every swordsman carries a blade within their heart.
But what do you call someone who has nothing left but their sword?
Before my regression, the Black Lotus Sect Master had called such a being—
A Sword Demon.
Even if the path I took was twisted, this was the greatest enlightenment I had grasped after devoting my entire life to the sword.
A state infused with my very existence—the culmination of a life where I had lost everything except the sword in my hand.
The Unity of Body and Sword.
"Aaaaaaahhh!!!"
Letting out a fierce battle cry, I swung my sword at the Black Sky Sword Sect Master.
The blood-red sword energy that had been rising like smoke coalesced, merging upon itself until it took on an entirely different form—
Sword Flame.
A pure manifestation of technique, refined to its densest form without the aid of willpower.
A flame of inner energy so intense that only those who had reached the Sub-Perfection Stage could barely ignite it—
And now, it blazed from my hand.
Then—
Kwaaaang!
A deafening explosion, too powerful to be the mere clash of two swords.
The first to be pushed back was the Black Sky Sword Sect Master.
Perhaps because he sought a swift conclusion, he had shrouded himself in nothing but raw, overwhelming sword energy, rather than the more delicate yet consuming nature of Sword Flame, which required precise concentration.
"Sub-Perfection?! How in the world...?"
The Sect Master's face twisted in disbelief as he hastily widened the distance.
But I had no time to waste answering such meaningless questions.
My body had not yet broken through the wall of the Sub-Perfection Stage.
I had partially cracked it, but I had not crossed it.
And yet, I was forcing my body to wield the enlightenment of my past life—
It was a miracle I had not shattered under the strain already.
To make matters worse, I had just directly exchanged blows in a head-on clash.
There were no shortcuts in external martial arts training.
Even if I had improved significantly, my body was still not fully matured.
It was not prepared to withstand the recoil of such collisions.
"Kuulk!"
I tried to suppress it, but in the end, blood seeped through my tightly clenched lips.
Whether it was due to my reckless energy manipulation or an internal injury from the last exchange, I couldn't be certain.
Upon seeing the thin trail of blood, the Black Sky Sword Sect Master’s expression brightened.
"Hahaha! Yes! I knew it! There’s no way a mere late-stage prodigy could reach such a level!"
"Tch. You talk too much."
Spitting out the blood that pooled in my mouth, I raised my sword once more.
My inner energy consumption was extreme, meaning I wouldn’t be able to maintain this for long.
Every clash of swords inflicted small and large injuries due to the recoil.
My senses flickered unpredictably under the lingering effects of Qi Deviation.
But—
As long as I was enveloped in Sword Flame, I could cross swords with a Sub-Perfection martial artist.
That was enough.
If I could match swords, I would not lose to anyone.
Yes—anyone.
To say that nothing remained but my sword—
Was also to say that my sword had never once left my grasp.
I reined in the rampant killing intent that had been too wild to control.
The inferno raging within me continued to burn black, but it was not to indiscriminately consume everything around me.
That was the way of the Demonic Cult—
Not mine.
Only one thing mattered.
To fix my gaze solely on the enemy I had to cut down.
The distorted vision where past and present overlapped began to clear.
The stench of burning and blood that had clouded my senses faded.
The one facing me now was not the Black Sky Sword Sect of my past,
But the Black Sky Sword Sect Master of the present.
"As I said earlier—you will die today."
The suffocating killing intent that had enveloped the entire battlefield—
That had even left first-class warriors gasping for breath—
Now focused entirely on a single man.
Even for a Sub-Perfection martial artist, bearing the weight of such killing intent alone was no easy feat.
The Sect Master involuntarily swallowed dryly.
I spoke to him with unshaken certainty.
"Because I have decided so."
The moment I finished my words, I launched forward.
Puhwoong!
The explosive force from my Bubbling Spring acupoint propelled my body forward.
A thunderous roar echoed as I slid across the battlefield with unnatural speed.
For those who had never seen it before, my Thunderclap Steps would have been utterly disorienting.
But perhaps it was ineffective against those who had once annihilated the Seo Mun Clan and stolen its techniques.
The Sect Master’s eyes flashed with sharp intent as he calmly swung his sword.
Not merely sword energy—
But Sword Flame, burning fiercely.
The black flames flickering from his sword were menacing—
But I would not waver.
Because I had seen something far greater.
Before my regression, in the final moments of my life—
I had witnessed the overwhelming sword aura of Heavenly Demon Divine Art.
Compared to the endless darkness that had swallowed the world,
A mere black flame covering a single sword was insignificant.
I pressed forward without hesitation, closing the distance into the Sect Master's range before twisting my upper body.
Ssskuk.
The sound of flesh being cut.
Along with the fluttering of his robes, a part of the Sect Master’s upper body was sliced away.
Perhaps due to the searing Sword Flame, the wound was jagged, like the trail of a serpent slithering across his flesh.
Yet, though the strike had cut through fabric and flesh—
It had failed to reach muscle and bone.
A shallow wound alone would not stop me.
"Haaaap!"
Using the momentum from my twisting motion, I spun my entire body—
A horizontal slash aimed to sever the Sect Master at the waist.
Perhaps he hadn't expected me to forgo defense entirely—
His eyes widened in alarm as he hastily retreated.
My sword strike cut through empty air.
But that was fine.
I had never expected to end it with a single stroke.
I launched forward once again, the deafening thunder of Thunderclap Steps roaring louder than before.
The Sect Master tried to counter as he had earlier—timing his swing at just the right moment.
But this time, he was too early.
Mixed within my movement was the footwork of Ghost Shadow Steps, deceiving both distance and speed.
His sword swung into empty space.
A miscalculation—
And that was all I needed.
Seizing the opening, I struck his sword head-on.
Kkaang!
The clash of Sword Flame against Sword Flame sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield.
My entire body groaned under the impact, my organs churning violently.
But—
This was the opportunity I had been waiting for.
Even in this battle, my Sword Flame held greater purity.
And now, his attack had lost its strength due to his mistimed strike.
The moment his posture faltered and his body recoiled instinctively—
I drove my sword forward.
"You…! Are you looking down on me?!"
The Sect Master bared his teeth in fury and unleashed a relentless flurry of techniques.
Precise thrusts aimed at vital points.
Sweeping slashes infused with vortex-like force.
Crushing overhead swings meant to cleave me apart.
His movements were refined and heavy, fitting for one who had once ruled Jiangxi.
But—
I had already dismantled these techniques long ago.
Ching! Chaaang! Kadeuk!
Each thrust was dodged with subtle shifts in my stance.
The vortexing slashes lost their power when I pierced through their core.
And the overhead strike—too simple to block conventionally—was crushed before it could even begin.
I, too, had overexerted myself, my form breaking slightly under the strain—
But it didn’t matter.
Because even as my stance wavered, my sword never stopped.
This was the culmination of my teachings from Wudang—
And the power of Unity of Body and Sword.
The duel reached its conclusion in a blur of clashing steel and raw hatred.
In the end—
Only I remained.
Kkaang!
With a final, resounding clash, the Sect Master's sword was sent flying.
His defenseless form staggered, shaking his head in disbelief.
"No… This can’t be… This mustn’t be!"
"It’s not for you to decide."
I thrust my sword toward his head—
A spiraling thrust of Sword Flame.
Puhk!
His lifeless body collapsed.
The vengeance I once thought unattainable had, at last, been realized.
And in that moment—
I knew.
My long, endless mourning had finally come to an end.