Chapter 54
Chapter 54
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Sweet on the Tongue, Sword in the Gut (13)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Nangong Seonwi had pinpointed Nameless's weakness: his movements were overly expansive. Of course, that didn't matter at all when facing warriors weaker than himself. They couldn't block it anyway.
But to Nangong Seonwi—known as the Shadow Sword, who had shouldered the Nangong Clan's dirty work for decades—it was a glaring vulnerability. All he had to do was block the strikes first.
Even so, Nangong Seonwi had to admit that Nameless's techniques were extraordinary. The Nangong Clan's Emperor Sword Form wouldn't lose, but it would be a close fight.
'I need to shut down the variables right away.'
That said, Nangong Seonwi had no interest in a thrilling match. He wasn't without a warrior's competitive spirit, but his top priority was always pragmatism.
Facing the Sword Demon head-on had taught him a lesson. Unless you secured your gains with overwhelming force, even a near-omnipotent warrior like the Sword Demon would eventually vanish into the annals of history.
Could the Nangong Clan be an exception? How many renowned families had risen and fallen before? That day, Nangong Seonwi had resolved himself.
He would become the sword that personally protected the Nangong Clan. So when rumors spread that the Sword Demon had returned to Henan, he was ready with this plan in an instant.
"You're no mere phantom, it seems. A comrade of the Sword Demon? Though you look too old to be his disciple."
"……."
"Well, age hardly matters now. The Sword Demon dies here today anyway."
Even if it was just a phantom, that changed nothing. Seeing this fool prance around claiming to be the Sword Demon meant the real one was long dead.
"Still talking too much for no reason."
"……?"
But in that instant, the grating sound—like metal scraping metal—from Nameless's mouth made Nangong Seonwi instinctively stiffen and retreat. Five full steps back, no less.
In that fleeting moment, a life-flashing vision appeared. Memories of clashing directly with the Sword Demon in the past. Why were those recollections surfacing now? Against a mere phantom?
Nangong Seonwi straightened his white beard and fixed his eyes on Nameless slowly rising before him. No matter how he looked, this was no Sword Demon.
"……Just my imagination, then. Or perhaps……."
"Boring. I'll go first."
"?!"
In that moment, the figure of Nameless before his eyes vanished like an illusion. Nangong Seonwi raised his sword like a shield on pure instinct. The only reason? Survival instinct.
Kwaaaang!!!
A crushing weight bore down. The Emperor Sword, said to be the heaviest and mightiest in the vast Central Plains martial world. Yet Nangong Seonwi gritted his teeth and shook it off.
'Nothing impossible exists in this world!!!'
Who could have predicted a figure rivaling the Sword Demon would emerge from the unorthodox paths? A master who shattered the orthodox sects' arrogance and prejudices—a legend who stood equal to the Sword God, the spiritual pillar of the righteous factions.
Thinking of the Sword Demon's existence made even this surprise a luxury. With that, the Shadow Sword regained his composure.
"That boring already? Very well, I'll make it entertaining for you."
The heaviest, strongest sword qi infused with the Emperor Sword Form's essence began flowing from Nangong Seonwi's blade. But even against the Shadow Sword's formidable aura, Nameless burst into laughter.
Iron Sword Ten Forms, First Form: Heaven-Earth Severance
A slashing strike that parted heaven and earth hurtled toward Nameless like an arrow. But then, something astonishing happened. Nameless's follow-up movement felt all too familiar.
The essence in that sword was a tribute to the Emperor, master of the Iron Sword that cleaved heaven and earth. It was no exaggeration to say it belonged wholly to the Nangong Clan.
Yet right now, Nameless—who had swung his sword later than Nangong Seonwi—was somehow colliding with the Heaven-Earth Severance at the exact same speed?
Iron Sword Ten Forms, First Form: Heaven-Earth Severance
Kwaaaang!!!
The identical techniques, imbued with the same essence, canceled each other out. At least, on the surface. Nangong Seonwi glared silently at his left hand, still gripping his sword.
"Iron Sword Ten Forms? For the Shadow Sword of the Nangong Clan to use such a basic sword art. Quite unexpected."
"The simplest is the strongest. I use the Iron Sword Ten Forms because it's the most comfortable for me."
“Impressive. I have to acknowledge the overwhelming, domineering force in that sword of yours.”
With every exchange, the doubts grew. He'd dismissed it as absurd at first, but conversing with the man before him only amplified the suspicions.
Just a trick?
Or…….
But Nangong Seonwi quickly halted his thoughts. Wild speculation only made the enemy seem stronger and greater. Best to test it directly in clash.
Focus sharpening, he now saw the movements that had eluded him before. But they weren't predictable at all. More beast than warrior.
Sure, a third-rate hack flailing like a beast would just get smashed. But movements this sharp and erratic? In Nangong Seonwi's memory, only one person fit.
He was gradually being overtaken. His eyes struggled to track, forcing him to yield the initiative, defend only—and it felt like he was being cornered bit by bit.
"……Retreating now would cost too much."
The moment he heard rumors of a fake Sword Demon, he'd planned to use the Demonic Cultists to let the two sides destroy each other. Even if not, killing one would be profit enough.
And Nangong Seonwi's plan had nearly succeeded. Finish off the fake Sword Demon here, then clean up the witnesses in prison afterward.
But somehow, he was starting to get pushed back by this fake Sword Demon he'd thought he'd dispatch quickly. What in the world was happening?
It felt like half-conscious. As if memories dwelling in my head—not my own—were puppeteering my body. Yet through it all, I remembered every fight.
How to swing the sword faster and more precisely. How to absorb an opponent's martial arts. And beyond the battles, I saw the man.
In the past, one man had waged a lonely war against the entire vast Central Plains martial world. The youth slew the Demonic Cult infiltrating the world and everyone connected to it with overwhelming might.
He believed it was right. He thought only he could do it. But in doing so, he earned the martial world's fear and made far more enemies than expected.
Even including unorthodox warriors he'd once called comrades. In the end, betrayal from those he never suspected left him barely escaping with his life.
[Don't think this is the end.]
[I will return someday, no matter what.]
[In any form, as any man.]
[I will come back and have my revenge on you all.]
With that one vow, he hid in the mountains, biding his time. Honing his martial arts relentlessly, lest his blade dull. Awaiting his chance for vengeance.
But time was not his ally. Decades passed, and the man nearing forty became an old one. Though he trained without fail every single day.
Still, the years weakened him bit by bit. Am I to die achieving nothing like this? No, I can't. There's still what I must do.
Right then, he finally found it. A child weeping at the spot where he'd torn apart a tiger. If he could give everything to this child.
Not just his internal energy and martial arts.
Even his memories.
Then…… wouldn't he live on?
"Master!!!"
Suddenly, overwhelming dread began eroding my mind. The scream-like voice in my ear snapped me back. What had happened?
I stared blankly at what I held. Drenched in blood—it was a human arm. I instantly recognized its owner.
"……I see. Now I understand completely. To think the Sword Demon went that far."
"Uh……?"
"Losing an arm to uncover the Sword Demon's scheme is a bargain. Isn't it, Sword Demon?"
Nangong Seonwi, minus one arm, flashed a sinister smile and swiftly withdrew. But Nameless just stood there dazed, clutching the severed limb.
He'd sworn he'd heard his disciples' voices, but sadly, no disciples were around. If anything, Nameless thought it was for the best.
……If those voices calling to him hadn't been his disciples'.
Would he have returned to himself?
One misstep, and he might have been swallowed by those memories entirely.
The thought sent chills racing across Nameless's entire body.