Life-and-Death Duel
Experts who have reached the Peak realm can wield qi. That was why they could easily handle ten or so First-class masters. For that reason, A-rang had always avoided fighting Peak experts whenever possible. But did the world ever flow according to one's wishes? As long as one lived by the sword, there would always be a wall that must eventually be faced. Today. Tomorrow. Or perhaps, right now.
Even without sight, he could tell how horrific the scene was. The absence of breathing from the people around him, the sharp metallic scent of blood filling his nose, and the lone figure of the killer standing amidst it all.
"How many did you kill?"
I drew the Geoya Sword and faced the man standing alone. He approached with an ominous clatter of metal. It was no sword. The sound of chains scraping and something heavy being swung...
—Boom!
The wind ceased, and I used the Yeono Step to leap backward. The spot where I had stood was now a deep crater, dust rising from it.
'Could it be... a chain?'
The metallic sound rang out again. Now I understood the weapon's shape. A flail connected by chains. The man retrieved the iron ball and began spinning it once more—whoosh, whoosh.
Soon he hurled the flail again. Sensing its approach, I tried to block with the Geoya Sword, but...
'No good...!'
—Clang!
I barely deflected it, avoiding a direct hit. That flail carried terrifying destructive power. No—the flail itself wasn't the issue.
'That man is strong...!'
It was strong because he wielded it. A-rang drew a deep breath and leapt toward the man. Caught off guard by the sudden charge, the man missed his timing to throw the iron ball.
'An opening!'
Ducking low, A-rang closed the distance in an instant and swung upward with a tight grip on the hilt.
—Clang!
'Blocked!'
But the man had stretched his chain taut, stopping the blade. This was no ordinary opponent.
—Thud!
"Urgh!"
The man delivered a kick to A-rang's abdomen while he was still off-balance. Sent flying backward, a trickle of blood ran from A-rang's lips. The force behind that kick far exceeded what any ordinary man could muster.
'Internal energy...? ...He's a Peak expert.'
As A-rang let out a bitter sigh, the man halted his attack.
"Who are you?"
Startled by the voice like scraping metal, A-rang answered.
"Yeon A-rang... Third-class escort of the Geumho Express. Now state your identity."
"Just an escort?"
The man burst into laughter before revealing his name.
"Son Pae-ang. The world calls me Giant Strength Ghost."
【Giant Strength Ghost, Son Pae-ang】
"A nickname with 'Ghost'... So you're from the Sapa. Why is a Sapa man in Honam?"
"Heh heh. Who could possibly stop me from going where I please?"
—Thud.
The moment the iron ball struck the ground, the earth trembled.
"Anyone who gets in my way, I simply crush to death!"
"You deserve divine punishment!"
A-rang had no intention of playing hero, but Son Pae-ang's atrocities had crossed far beyond what could be ignored.
"You slaughtered all these people for such a petty reason?"
"The strong rule! The strong rule! Even a three-year-old knows this, yet you don't?"
Blood trailed wherever the iron ball passed.
"The weak are trampled, and the strong trample others. That is the martial world."
"It is only right not to crush budding sprouts!"
Son Pae-ang began spinning his flail.
"Heh heh heh! Among all the Orthodox fools I've seen, you are the most disgusting."
—Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
"Sprouts must be crushed first."
—Thud!
"Otherwise, they might one day bite my neck."
Deciding the chatter had gone on long enough, Son Pae-ang hurled the iron ball at A-rang. A heavy whooshing sound followed, and A-rang tilted his head aside. Though he avoided the blow, the pressure burst a blood vessel in his nose.
Without showing surprise at A-rang's evasion, Son Pae-ang retrieved the ball and threw it again. A-rang dodged, deflected, and sometimes rolled away. After dozens of exchanges with no path to victory in sight, frustration welled up within him.
'Switch to close combat? No, after showing my hand early, he'll be on guard. But giving him distance leads to this...!'
No answer came no matter how he racked his brain. As time passed, the attacks grew fiercer while A-rang's condition worsened. Even the Form-Breaking Sword Technique was useless. That man was pure power pushed to its absolute limit.
'Then...!'
Dodging the iron ball, A-rang leapt into Son Pae-ang's embrace once more.
"Useless!"
Son Pae-ang gripped the chain tightly. In that instant, A-rang released the Geoya Sword and seized the taut chain with his hand.
"...!"
Son Pae-ang's eyes widened. What swordsman lets go of his sword? The brief moment of shock created an opening. A-rang slipped through it. Gripping the chain with both hands, he twisted his waist and delivered a spinning kick to Son Pae-ang's head.
Son Pae-ang staggered. After landing, A-rang retrieved the Geoya Sword embedded in the ground and slashed upward.
—Slash!
A single line was drawn, and blood erupted across Son Pae-ang's upper body. Stepping back several paces, Son Pae-ang slowly realized what had happened, his face flushing with heat.
"Such a pathetic trick...!"
As Son Pae-ang's aura shifted, A-rang retreated while spitting out the blood in his mouth. Sweat poured down his forehead like rain, but there was no time to rest.
'Now it begins...'
Until now, the man had been holding back. Even so, the difference was overwhelming.
* * *
Just who was this brat? Having reached the pinnacle of the Peak realm, Son Pae-ang's mind was in turmoil. A lifetime of battle allowed one to roughly understand an opponent's past after just a few exchanges.
'His swordsmanship is masterful. But his fighting style is no different from a street thug.'
In terms of sword technique alone, he was stronger than anyone Son Pae-ang had killed. His sword path was upright and honest—clearly Orthodox. Yet a swordsman discarding his sword? Aiming for the groin? Using brawling techniques fit only for common thugs. A combat style that used any means necessary to survive—like a government soldier, not a martial artist.
Surprising. Truly surprising.
'But he's inexperienced!'
—Boom!
"Urgh!!"
The iron ball Son Pae-ang threw finally struck A-rang squarely, sending him flying far away.
"You have two weaknesses. Lack of real combat experience, and the absence of qi."
Son Pae-ang retrieved the iron ball and began spinning it again.
"If you had even the slightest grasp of qi and fought a few duels against Peak experts..."
—It would have been me who fell.
Son Pae-ang did not bother finishing the sentence. There was no need. This was a fight to the death.
"Die."
Son Pae-ang hurled the iron ball at the slumped A-rang.
—Clang!
"Urgh!!"
Just before the iron ball crushed A-rang's head, two figures leapt forward and blocked it with their swords. The impact sent them both reeling backward, and from behind, the children came running out, crying.
"Big brother!!"
"Orabeoni!!"
Mak Yu-cheon and Mak Ri-yu clung to A-rang's clothes, sobbing. Behind them, more figures in yellow robes appeared like bamboo shoots after rain.
"Damn it...! I half-doubted it, but he's a real monster...!"
Gu Yeong-cheon, the First-class escort of Seohan Express who had blocked the iron ball, glared at Son Pae-ang with trembling hands. Dan Ri-yeong, whose arms also shook from the impact, was an unusual female First-class escort. She asked Gu Yeong-cheon,
"Who is that?"
"Giant Strength Ghost, Son Pae-ang...!"
At Gu Yeong-cheon's words, the thirteen escorts turned pale.
"That's...! Isn't he the killing ghost even the Sapa treats as a traitor?"
"Right! I heard he had nowhere else to go and recently joined the Green Forest... I never thought it was true."
Gu Yeong-cheon shouted, cold sweat dripping down his face.
"We can't handle him! Baek-yeong! Call for reinforcements within two quarters of an hour!"
*Thirty minutes.
At Gu Yeong-cheon's cry, Baek-yeong's previously lifeless eyes lit up. Meanwhile, the remaining First-class escorts grew even paler.
'Can we hold out? No... We have to.'
"Formation!"
At Gu Yeong-cheon's command, the twelve First-class escorts, including Dan Ri-yeong, formed a circle and surrounded Son Pae-ang.
"We'll hold for two quarters—even if it kills us!"
* * *
The scent of blood. Stillness. The sound of metal and screams. And the children's crying.
"Orabeoni!!"
"Big brother!!!"
Within his fading consciousness, A-rang cried out. Qi! That damned qi!! He knew how important it was! He wanted to use it so badly! But what could he do when it was impossible? He still had enough strength left to grind his teeth.
He repeated it again and again. It was unfair. To die so meaninglessly. There was no need to feel unfair—he wouldn't have been in danger if he hadn't intervened. This was the consequence of his own choice. It was unfair. How could such a gap exist just because he couldn't use qi? There was no need to feel unfair. To someone else, he too might have been a wall.
Amid countless questions and answers, the fundamental premise surfaced. He had only wanted to live long. But to do that, he had to become stronger. The desire to live long and the desire to grow stronger were equal, leaving no decision. Yes—he had been afraid. Once he became a martial artist, the two should not have been separated, yet he had treated them as distinct. How greedy he had been!
He had to accept it now. The weak had no right to choose. He could not have both. One of the two must be abandoned. And right now—
—he wanted to become stronger.
That feeling took precedence. For the first time, A-rang did not fear death. He gathered his final strength and placed his trembling hand on his lower abdomen.
—Clang!
* * *
Five had already died. The formation had long since collapsed. Two quarters? More than half an hour had passed. Spitting blood, Gu Yeong-cheon watched Son Pae-ang spinning his flail.
'So this is my grave.'
It felt hollow. Fifteen years since he had entered this world. It had always been dangerous—any day could have been his last. Yet he had thought he might live a little longer. He had lived each day with that hope.
'It was all an illusion...'
He had already given up on life.
'...If I'm going to die anyway, I'll die as a martial artist.'
Gu Yeong-cheon steeled himself and glared at Son Pae-ang as if to kill him. Then Son Pae-ang began to laugh loudly. Not at him. That laughter was not mockery directed at Gu Yeong-cheon. It was the genuine, joyful laughter of a killing ghost. Its target was behind him—!
"Rest now."
"Ah..."
A-rang tapped Gu Yeong-cheon's shoulder—tap. Gu Yeong-cheon's strength drained away, and A-rang slowly walked forward. Son Pae-ang laughed and spoke.
"A dying ember, I see!"
Enlightenment in such a short time? Possible. But to control it? Absolutely not. That was an unchanging truth. Yet there was one exception.
"On your final journey, I've seen many burn their innate true qi, but never one as terrifying as you!"
Watching those who burned their final moments by drawing on their innate true qi always brought him joy. Cold sweat ran down Giant Strength Ghost Son Pae-ang's forehead.
'He's terrifying even before wielding qi. If I don't go all out, I'll die.'
The possibility that he, standing at the edge of the Peak realm, might die to a mere First-class expert was enough to make him want to laugh in disbelief. But that was reality. Son Pae-ang stomped his foot hard enough to embed it in the ground and prepared himself.
—Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Gu Yeong-cheon, bleeding, and Dan Ri-yeong, collapsed, both turned pale.
'That wasn't even his full power...!'
It wounded their pride as martial artists, while fear made their legs tremble. Then veins bulged on Son Pae-ang's arms as he hurled the iron ball with all his might.
"Die this time!!"
The iron ball flew toward A-rang's head as he stood with eyes closed. A-rang did not shout or steel himself. What he needed now was simply one strike—a single technique to break through pure power. Raising the Geoya Sword, he brought it down from above to below, carving a single line.
|
It split the iron ball, severed the chain, and finally...
"How... can this be..."
Son Pae-ang—and even the boulder behind him—was cut through. The dying ember had at last burned away the evil.
. . .
He had won.
The escorts of Seohan Express could not savor the joy of victory. Five had died. Of course, considering their opponent had been Giant Strength Ghost Son Pae-ang at the peak of the Peak realm, simply surviving could be called heaven's blessing. Supported by Dan Ri-yeong, Gu Yeong-cheon could barely stand. The wails of the escorts pierced the sky, and Baek-yeong, sent for reinforcements, had not returned. But what troubled Gu Yeong-cheon most was the children's crying.
Mak Yu-cheon and Mak Ri-yu clung to A-rang's sleeves, sobbing and begging him not to die. A-rang's condition was that severe—half his body was drenched in his own blood. Just as Gu Yeong-cheon wondered whether the death toll should be counted as six rather than five, a hazy aura began to rise from A-rang's body.
'He's... circulating energy!?'
Shocked, Gu Yeong-cheon shook off Dan Ri-yeong's support and pulled Yu-cheon and Ri-yu away from A-rang's body with his arms.
"Don't touch him! Absolutely don't touch him!"
Staring at A-rang sitting in meditation, Gu Yeong-cheon could not close his mouth. Already at the peak of First-class and gazing beyond, Gu Yeong-cheon understood exactly what A-rang had done to defeat Son Pae-ang—and what he was doing now.
'He's performing energy circulation?! With a shattered dantian and after burning his innate true qi?!'
It made no sense. It was like smoke rising from an ember that had been submerged in water. Yet that impossible thing was happening right before his eyes. A man who should have died long ago was not only breathing but now running at full strength.
—Gulp.
Whether it was dry saliva or congealed blood, he did not know what he had swallowed. But one thing was certain.
'Just who is this person...?'
This man was no ordinary martial artist.