A Murim Without a Heavenly Demon (8) – "It Was Quite Enjoyable While It Lasted"
"It was quite enjoyable while it lasted."
With those short words, Hong Yeonhwa dashed out into the courtyard as if chasing after Cheok An Geum Gwi.
Boom!
Soon after, a deafening racket erupted from outside. What the hell was going on here?
I got the timing being shit—running smack into Cheok An Geum Gwi like that. I knew I'd gotten my ass handed to me, too. But everything after? No clue. No idea how Hong Yeonhwa had that kind of power, or why she'd pick a fight so confidently only to tell me to run.
Still, like I'd been bewitched, I took one step, then another.
Kaboom!
Stepping out through the shattered door, I heard something explode. It was Cheok An Geum Gwi's sword failing to slice Hong Yeonhwa and slamming into the ground instead.
Oddly, there wasn't a sword gash on the floor—just a small crater. A heavy sword wrapped in sword qi packed that much punch. Thinking I'd taken it head-on made my injuries throb even harder.
I wouldn't survive another. Even if the sword held up, I'd shatter first.
But there was a way to handle a heavy sword that built up damage even if you blocked it.
"You rat-bitch!"
"Wasn't it you who said you'd catch this lady with skills that can't even nab a single rat?"
Like Hong Yeonhwa was doing right now—dodging or deflecting every attack.
She evaded the relentless sword barrage nonstop, sometimes slapping the flat of the blade to send every strike awry. How the hell was that possible?
Cheok An Geum Gwi moved so fast it was hard to track sometimes, but Hong Yeonhwa's motions were all visible to the naked eye. That's why I could see it.
Hong Yeonhwa was moving before he even swung—anticipating his attacks. Something only possible if you knew what was coming... a sight only far superior martial artists could pull off.
The perfectly timed exchanges, like they'd rehearsed it, sparked a sudden hope in me.
We might actually win this.
I was staring blankly at Hong Yeonhwa and Cheok An Geum Gwi when she suddenly bellowed.
"What are you doing?! Snap out of it and run away from here right now!"
Her words jolted me awake. How had I not noticed sooner?
Looking closely, her breathing was ragged, her limbs trembling faintly. Sure, she had some hidden power I didn't know about. But she'd only just gotten out of bed after being half-dead.
She was recovering fast, yeah—but she'd been too weak to lift a few blankets not long ago. She might hold out now, but she'd crumble soon.
So, like she said, if I didn't wanna die, I had to run. Fast.
But... my feet wouldn't move.
"......"
What if I ran now? What happened after?
I'd let Hwang Daeung know I was protecting a survivor of the Fengyu Merchant Group. But I hadn't told him where my house was. I'd planned to bring Hong Yeonhwa straight down to the village.
No way the Murim Alliance's backup was coming. Even if I grabbed guards from the lower village, it'd be too late by then.
What about Hong Yeonhwa? With the power she was showing, she'd lose at least one limb. Then the torture to extract info—or just to vent—would follow. Maybe a couple more parts gone.
Worst case, they'd sever her meridians for sure. After that? A crippled body sold to a brothel—the rest was obvious. She wouldn't even resist properly then.
Unbidden, I pictured her under some strange man, sobbing. Grind.
Just imagining it ground my teeth and set my gut ablaze. That's when it hit me, deep in my chest. Painfully clear.
I liked Hong Yeonhwa this much.
We'd met barely two weeks ago, even counting her unconscious days. But that was enough.
I loved her pink hair. Her slightly high-pitched voice. Those huge tits. Watching her devour food was heartwarming. Her innocent words, clueless about how she came across—adorable. Those tiny hands kneading my back to repay me—precious.
I couldn't imagine life without her anymore. She'd become that to me.
...So I couldn't run. Didn't want to.
I steeled myself and gripped my sword.
"Huuuuh—"
Slowly, I breathed in and out. Then, following the heart formula, I circulated my inner energy.
The qi spreading from my dantian felt different from usual. Drawn by something, it flowed on its own—to my heart, then my head.
Up to the crown of my skull, then back down through my heart to my dantian. Repeating.
I'd recited the same formula, but this flow was alien. Panic flickered, then realization dawned.
Martial Spirit Divine Art.
The heart method my master made for talentless me. Where will became power—a martial art of the mind.
The quickening qi felt like a rod now. A red-hot iron bar piercing from crown to spine to tailbone, propping up my crumbling body.
Not the Ren and Du meridians. No acupoints—just bones and muscles.
Should've been inefficient... but it wasn't. Opposite, even.
Heat from the rod turned to qi, flooding my meridians. My body brimmed with unprecedented vitality. No more pain.
Now I knew what to do. Head high. Sword gripped tight. One step forward.
Crunch!
I stamped so hard the ground cratered. The scenery rushed at me. In a few strides, I was there. Channeling my momentum, I thrust my sword.
Whoosh!
With a air-piercing roar, Cheok An Geum Gwi—who'd been aiming for Hong Yeonhwa's leg—leaped back.
"You bastard! Couldn't just run like a good boy—gone mad wanting death?!"
"Run my ass, punk. A man has times when he has to fight, no matter what."
"What...? Oh, I get it. Idiot bewitched by a woman, throwing his life away! You can buy those with money! Pity, though. Not a virgin, so the price drops. Wait, no—get to sample before selling? That's fine too."
I kept my eyes locked on Cheok An Geum Gwi but rolled them sideways to check Hong Yeonhwa. Swollen arms. Legs shaking like aspen leaves. Pale face, cold sweat. She looked ready to collapse, biting her lip with faintly angry eyes.
No strength left to yell? I could guess what she wanted to say, though. I risked my neck for time—why come back?
"Miss Hong. I want a lot from you. Lots I want you to do for me, lots I wanna do for you. ...So let's deal with this fucker first, then talk one by one."
She gave a tiny nod. I glared back at Cheok An Geum Gwi.
Legs shoulder-width, left foot half-step forward. Sword straight up the centerline, tip at eye level.
Then, unleashing the heat filling my body like an explosion, I charged with bursting qi.
"Haaaaaaa!"
"What the—?!"
Cheok An Geum Gwi swung in flustered panic at my unexpected speed.
Kaboom!
An ear-ringing thunderclap. Momentum even. Unbelievable—I'd been knocked down in two exchanges before.
"You... what sorcery is this?!"
"Sorcery my ass! It's a divine art! Divine art!"
"Divine art? That's your dog's name!"
Cheok An Geum Gwi squinted his one eye and swung viciously, like he'd smash anything in the way.
Motions I'd barely seen before were crystal clear now. Hong Yeonhwa would've dodged the sword path or deflected with minimal damage... but I couldn't.
I just poured max qi and clashed head-on.
Kaboom!
Another space-shaking boom rattled my ears. Arms numb from recoil, but bearable. And somehow, my sword had a white glow like sword qi.
Thanks to that, we traded blows evenly for a bit... but not for long.
"Hahaha! Just a tweaked Three Powers Sword Art and you call it divine art?!"
"Ngh...."
Soon, every clash pushed me back a hair. My swordplay was too basic.
I could barely block; he effortlessly stabbed my openings and countered.
"Predictable! Damn predictable! Props for that power from basic Three Powers Sword Art! But how long can it last? Whatever sorcery, it ain't forever!"
"Not... sorcery!"
Not sorcery, but he was right—it wouldn't last. Each counter wound chipped away at my stamina. My battered body would hit limit sooner.
Never hated my shitty talent more. If not for Three Powers Sword Art... even second-rate would be way better!
In my frantic search for an out, I spotted Cheok An Geum Gwi's sword. Simple trajectory even I could read. But blocking built damage—that's heavy sword style.
Could I use that too?
I didn't know the trick... but brute force it.
"Hng!"
Short inhale, twist waist. His counter exploited the gap—slicing from left chest to right waist. Blood sprayed, but no broken bones. Short poke-and-pull attack.
Ignoring surging pain, I crammed in excessive qi. Then swept horizontally left-to-right—Horizontal Small Heaven Army.
Arm meridians twisted from overload, but fine. It worked.
Thud!
"What?!"
Dull impact shook his arm. Too big an opening to exploit. So I chained the next.
Twist waist opposite, sweep right-to-left.
Bam!
"Guh...!"
He staggered back a step, shock unspent. I advanced one.
Relentless Horizontal Small Heaven Army. Each swing tore my chest wound, veins bulging weirdly in my arms.
Finally, he gave up exploiting gaps, leaped back for distance.
Big mistake.
My body moved on muscle memory from thousands of reps. Leaping step. Waist bent to limit. Pulled arm. Thrust like an arrow—Eight Directions Wind and Rain.
Whoosh!
Freshly retreated, his stance unstable—he couldn't block.
One choice.
"Damn!"
He retreated again. Stance crumbled worse. First real opening.
Instead of recovering from thrust, half-step forward, raise sword.
Then—Mount Tai Crushing Strike.
Boom!
Sloppy block failed. His own sword bit his shoulder. He screamed.
"Gaaaaah!"
But no stopping. Raise sword vertical again.
"W-Wai...!"
Boom!
"Aaaaaagh!"
Weakened by shoulder wound, he barely blocked the second. Now his sword was lodged in his shoulder. No strength to pull—arm twitching, he yelled desperately as I raised for the next.
"S-Spare me! Anything you want! No revenge, I swear! Just let me live!"
"What I want..."
He grinned obsequiously, sensing room to bargain.
I looked him over coolly. Fancy silk ruined bloody, jewelry shattered from clashes. Makeup-smeared face streaked with tears and snot—uglier than ever.
"What I want... just one thing."
"What?! All my fortune—take it!"
I smiled back at his hopeful face.
"Split in half and die."
The third Mount Tai Crushing Strike shattered his sword and cleaved his body vertically.