Sahyeol Demon Explosion Great Art

Jin-soo watched Son Sanghyeok come charging and tightened his grip on Baekcheonsingeom and the Blood-Sucking Sword. If I hadn't stepped in, would Leo have handled it on his own? The thought flickered past, but he knew the branch manager of Sahyeol Gate was no ordinary fighter, and in the end he had no choice but to meet the man himself. What if he held back on the faith that Leo would manage, and Leo was hurt for it?

Better I finish this safely than sit here watching with my heart in my throat. He had no intention of staking Leo's safety on a gamble.

They called him the strongest man in the Starting City. While putting down the players of Sahyeol Gate, Jin-soo had gathered what information he could, and the greatest share of it concerned Son Sanghyeok, the Gate's branch manager in the Starting City. A cut above Ak Chanseo. If the man was a powerhouse of that order, Jin-soo could likely convert into skills everything he had yet to convert.

KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA!

Baekcheonsingeom and the Blood-Sucking Sword poured out stream after stream of pure-white sword threads and blood-red sword threads. Sword qi, aura—the form and the properties differ a little, but in the end they're nothing more than skills that give mana a physical shape. To Jin-soo, born of Earth, both were simply skills he had learned after coming to the Tower. He did not fixate on any one of them the way Players from other dimensions did. He had learned them all, and he used each as the need arose.

"Sword threads?"

Son Sanghyeok's face, caught mid-charge, hardened like stone. To wield sword threads meant that the internal methods, the sword arts, and the other skills Jin-soo had mastered stood at a level equal to his own.

That Earth-born brat has reached the same realm as me? A realm he had failed to grasp no matter how he strove and hungered for it all his life. A realm he had only barely climbed to after being dragged into the Tower and hunting monsters. And an Earth-born Player—someone who had awakened as a Player only after being dragged here, and gained his skills through the power of the System—had reached a realm equal to his own, when he himself had already stood at the extreme of the first-rate before he ever entered the Tower?

Fortune truly burst open for this wretch. To Son Sanghyeok, who believed he had seized his present strength through his own blood-soaked effort, the very existence of an Earth-born Player who had ridden a stroke of great ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fortune up to a realm equal to his, and done it so easily, felt unbearably unjust. Revolting, even.

"Hmph! You think everyone at the Peak stands at the same Peak?!"

Pride wounded, he raised his voice and forced his mana higher, spewing bundle after bundle of blood-red sword threads. I will show you, you who lean on the power of skills, just how fierce the sword of a true martial artist can be. Even granting they had reached equal realms, he did not worry in the slightest that he might lose to an Earth-born Player. He was convinced, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, that he would win—unconditionally, and overwhelmingly.

And Jin-soo was just as certain of his own victory.

Why do these people love sorting realms so much? Player level, class level, and skill level sat plain as day in the System window, and still the Players from Moosung had a habit of deciding who stood above whom by realm rather than by level. And the habit of looking down on Earth-born Players is intact, too. That one was not unique to Moosung. It was a trait of Players from every other dimension. Given time, it corrects itself. The Tower's 200th floor was where Players of other dimensions met for the first time, and so those whose contempt had not yet been corrected vastly outnumbered the rest. Then I'll correct them myself.

Clang! Baekcheonsingeom bent like a snake and lightly knocked the incoming attack aside. Slash! In the same instant, the Blood-Sucking Sword sheared across Son Sanghyeok's flank.

"Wh-what is this?"

The arrogant confidence drained from his face, and disbelief flooded in to take its place.

"This cannot be! What sorcery did you use?!"

Rage twisting his features, he swung with savage force. Clang! Clang! Clang! Slash! The result did not change. Jin-soo turned the attacks aside with perfect calm and, whenever a gap showed itself, put a clean hit through it.

Calling it sorcery, when the man is unorthodox himself. Let a Player of the orthodox sects so much as utter the word, and it was always the unorthodox who smiled most oilily and mocked them. "Only those who lose on skill make excuses about sorcery." Or they would sneer, "Once you're in the Tower, learning skills is only natural, you hidebound orthodox fools," and scoff, "Whatever means you use, getting stronger is all that matters."

When I do it, it's romance. When someone else does it, adultery. Something like that?

Jin-soo let out a short laugh and kept his swords moving. Sword threads struck sword threads, and fragments of sword qi burst outward; he gave his mana form and turned them aside with ease. The instant that cycle repeated—formed mana stopping fragments of sword qi—skill conversion proceeded on its own.

That's one. He shifted the flow of his mana and blocked the fragments of sword thread.

Before long, another skill had formed. Be a shame if it ended here. Against Son Sanghyeok, he meant to finish as much skill conversion as he could. He's strong, I'll give him that. But...

Honestly, the man was no match for him. The skills Jin-soo had finished converting after climbing to the Tower's 200th floor all sat at level 2,222, far beyond the level cap of Players on that floor. His other main skills had reached level 1,122 as well, so there was no realistic chance he would fall behind a 200th-floor Player in skill level. On top of that, every stat he had pushed to 1,522 was amplified by 92.2 percent.

A two-minute clear, give or take. That was how long Son Sanghyeok could last if Jin-soo fought at full power—and only if he fought as a pure swordsman. Bring the core skill of each class to bear, a Tank's protection, a Healer's curses, a Summoner's summons, a Mage's magic, a Shaman's arts, an Archer's archery, an Assassin's stealth, and a twenty-two-second clear might well be possible.

Players from Moosung really do have solid fundamentals. Once Son Sanghyeok cast his arrogance aside and began to swing with desperate urgency, the clean hits landing on him grew clearly fewer. Then again, even an unorthodox Player would have struggled to reach a seat this strong with weak basics. His sword was fierce and lethal as a living serpent, and his ability to freely reshape bundles of sword threads as he attacked was extraordinarily sharp.

Jin-soo traded blows with an easy face, completing the conversions one after another. Son Sanghyeok's expression, by contrast, was full of urgency and disbelief.

How can an Earth-born Player display swordsmanship like this? From the first time their swords met, Son Sanghyeok had done nothing but lose ground. He had thrown his pride away and swung at Jin-soo with every ounce of his strength, and still, the more exchanges piled up, the deeper his sense of defeat became. He had denounced it as sorcery, but the more their swords mingled, the more clearly he felt the truth.

This isn't a difference in skills. It's a difference in experience and swordsmanship. Their stats, mana included, were much the same. Their skill levels looked much the same as well. The gap in combat experience and in sword skill was simply too wide. His physical ability and his internal energy seemed comparable to the other man's, and yet he could not see the slightest sign of victory. It's as if he's reading every thought in my head.

To Son Sanghyeok, it felt less like swinging a sword at a person than at a clear sky, or at a vast and open sea. He threw every scheme he possessed into irregular attacks, and not one of them worked. A single light shift from his opponent, meanwhile, cost him dearly.

I can't beat him with a direct assault. Tricks and irregularities had failed him too. Then there's only that method left.

Accepting a permanent loss of stats, Son Sanghyeok activated a skill he had been holding in reserve.

The Sahyeol Demon Explosion Great ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Art stimulated the death acupoints—points that could kill a man if mishandled—and detonated innate vital energy, amplifying internal energy enormously in a short span of time. Originally it was a dangerous great art that, once unleashed, consumed every last drop of innate true energy and led without exception to death. Converted into a skill, its stability had risen a great deal. Greater stability, however, did not mean the risk had been erased for good. A man could keep his life, yet each use permanently carved away great chunks of his Stamina, Durability, and Mana.

No time now to weigh what it will cost. Continue like this and his defeat was certain. There was no corner left to flee to, and defeat meant death. Even if it cost him a permanent loss of stats, he had to win.

KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA!

The mana of Son Sanghyeok, having unleashed the Sahyeol Demon Explosion Great Art, shot upward like a thing gone mad. The bundle of blood-red sword threads condensed on his blade rose like an erupting volcano, and the protective qi wrapped around his body became a storm of qi that ground everything around it to powder.

"I will make you regret driving me this far! Die!"

He swung in a voice overflowing with confidence. The surging fullness of that amplified mana had planted a tremendous certainty in him. Power is overflowing through my entire body. Whoever stood before him, with this overwhelming strength alone he could crush them flat. However superb your swordsmanship, it is powerless before an overwhelming gap in internal energy.

BOOOOM! Son Sanghyeok's sword collided with Jin-soo's. Jin-soo twisted the path of his blade and shed the worst of the impact.

"You dodge well for a rat! How long do you think you can keep it up?!"

The bundle of blood-red sword threads on his sword poured down on Jin-soo as if it meant to explode. Jin-soo gave himself wholly to defense, turning the man's own force against him or letting it sluice past. Clang! Boom! Whoosh! Son Sanghyeok launched attack after attack. Not one of them landed clean.

How in the world is he holding out like that? With internal energy no bigger than a fist, is it even possible to unleash arts this tremendous, one after another? He was watching Jin-soo's movements with his own two eyes, and still he could not believe so precarious a defense was possible. If I just land this next one.

KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA! He poured in still more mana, formed an even fiercer bundle of sword threads, and swung with everything he had. Clang! A small movement from Jin-soo turned aside the direction of the exploding force, and he slipped clear at his leisure.

This cannot be. The confidence of a man who had been certain of victory began to crumble. Far too easily, Jin-soo displayed arts that bound a greater force with a lesser one—Grafting Flowers onto Another Tree, Softness Overcomes Hardness—and lightly shut down the furious assault. At this rate, I lose.

The mana amplified by the Sahyeol Demon Explosion Great Art lasted a scant five minutes, if that. More than two had already passed. What remained was scarcely two minutes and a few dozen seconds. How do I win? His thoughts churned at a furious pace. And then, between the disciples of Sahyeol Gate who lay collapsed and foaming at the mouth, his eyes caught a black-furred kitten crouched on its haunches, licking a forepaw.

Earlier, too. He cut in when I tried to attack that damned kitten. From what Son Sanghyeok had seen, Jin-soo deflected his attacks or slipped aside in advance, like a man who knew the future. But that art was possible only so long as the target was the man himself. Keep attacking like this and I will never win.

Tak! He wrenched his course aside, launched himself, stretched the bundle of blood-red sword threads like a whip, and shot it at the black-furred kitten. Success. A smile bloomed on his face. Jin-soo, who had always slipped aside so infuriatingly or let every attack slide past, had stepped in front of the kitten. Throwing his life away for a trifling beast. What a fool.

KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA! The whip-long bundle of blood-red sword threads reached to the very tip of Jin-soo's nose, and Son Sanghyeok was certain of his victory.

Then Jin-soo swung Baekcheonsingeom and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Blood-Sucking Sword into the blood-red threads.

SHWAAAK! In that instant the whip-stretched bundle was sheared away neat and clean, and pure-white reinforced qi and blood-red reinforced qi flew at Son Sanghyeok.

Reinforced qi? Then he isn't at the Peak. He's a Transcendent Peak master!

Horror washed over Son Sanghyeok's face, and his body locked up like stone. Slash! Slash! The pure-white reinforced qi and the blood-red reinforced qi lightly cut through the sword qi gathered on his blade and the protective qi wrapped around his body. Spurt! They tore his neck and his upper body away at the same time.

He has been toying with me all this time. In the moment of death, Son Sanghyeok understood that he had been made sport of from the first instant to the last. From the start, his opponent had been a Transcendent Peak master whom a man standing only at the threshold of the Peak could never defeat—not if he died and woke again. And not knowing that, he had unleashed even the Sahyeol Demon Explosion Great Art and thrashed in blind desperation. How laughable he must have seemed from the other side of the swords.

What a wretched injustice. Had he known his opponent was a Transcendent Peak master, he never would have entertained the thought of opposing him at all. He would have dropped to his knees at once and begged like a dog, swearing he would do anything if only his life were spared. But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his opponent never gave Son Sanghyeok so much as the chance.