Chapter 252
Chapter 252
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Filling the Heart (4)
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Screeech!
Yahul Cheok instinctively twisted his body to dodge the sword qi streaking down like lightning from empty air.
Splat!
He thought he'd reacted quickly, but his side still took a slash.
"......"
He flipped his body again to steady his stance and prepare a counterattack.
----.
Swish.
In his line of sight, the blood-red robe fluttered, and by the time he noticed, the enemy had already descended into a narrow alley below.
Tat-tat-tat.
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the Ten Swords positioning themselves one by one to block the alley.
'Damn. Surrounded.'
Only then did the blood-robe elder speak, seemingly satisfied.
"Aiya. You wield quite an amusing sword art."
"......"
Instead of replying, Yahul Cheok raised his sword, and a sneer crossed the elder's wrinkled face.
"You seem to have considerable talent, but how long do you think you can hold out against this old man?"
Even without the opponent's leisurely words, the relentless pressure pouring down was no easy thing to withstand.
'Even if I go down with him.'
The Ten Swords at his back were strong foes utterly unlike the White Swords.
'In the past, even one would have been impossible.'
He'd made significant progress, but facing the Ten Swords even now was suicidal.
'And that one.'
Just facing the elder standing with hands behind his back made his limbs stiffen.
The one-armed elder whispered quickly beside him.
"He's Gwanak of the Wicked Dragon Sword."
"A famous figure?"
"...The right-hand man of the Four Armies."
'My luck's run out.'
Even as he thought it, Yahul Cheok didn't loosen his grip on his sword.
He'd lived with death at his side anyway.
At this point, it hardly mattered who killed him.
'A bit regrettable, though.'
Strangely, thinking of death brought the Dark Lord's image flashing into his mind.
'I've grown sentimental too.'
Shaking off the thought, Yahul Cheok drew a straight line on the ground with his sword tip.
The Flame King Nine Heavens Sword wasn't yet familiar in his hands. He did it to keep the sword's essence fresh amid the chaos.
"Quite the amusing lad."
The moment the elder, watching with interest, shrugged his shoulders.
Whoosh!
The face that had been far away was suddenly right in front of his nose.
'Fast!'
He reflexively leaped back and unleashed the first form, Flame King's Advance.
Screeeeech!
The sword tip bent like a living thing, aiming for the deadly point on the crown of his head, but.
Poof!
Seeing the afterimage scatter before his eyes, Yahul Cheok realized he'd struck an illusion.
Without faltering, he transitioned to the next form.
'Second and third forms!'
The Flame King Nine Heavens Sword was a bizarre art performed in sequence from the first form.
Its style of smashing through any variation with merciless force was straightforward and destructive, like the Flame King descending upon the world to dominate the martial realm.
Rooooaaar!
A fierce crimson sword glow flickered along the blade, and the charging blood-robe elder's eyebrows shot up.
"Sword qi projection?"
Qi Projection. A superior realm beyond merely coating one's sword with qi.
The Flame King Nine Heavens Sword's power came from wondrous forms that turned this projection into a mist to slay foes.
"Haha! Amusing!"
The elder spun his sword playfully on his palm and flicked it, splitting the crimson qi in half. It flew past him and exploded behind his back.
Boom! Bang!
The wall it hit crumbled, and a nearby thatched hut collapsed in a cloud of dust.
'Now!'
The opponent was too strong to fight head-on from the start.
Yahul Cheok, who wouldn't hesitate to flee for successful revenge, seized the moment perfectly.
The instant he grabbed the one-armed elder's nape amid the dust and soared into the air.
Shiiiing!
Startled by the golden blade stabbing at his vital point, Yahul Cheok hurriedly twisted away.
Clang!
"Kuhk!"
The Ten Swords had closed in and thrust at his heart all at once.
He barely twisted to block, but fully receiving their combined momentum, Yahul Cheok spat blood and bounced back through the air.
Thud! Crash!
After hitting the ground, he quickly stabbed his sword like a staff into the earth to halt his slide, but.
"Tch. Nearly got caught flat-footed."
"Damn."
"Petty tricks won't let you escape this old man's grasp, boy."
The blood-robe elder had already closed in behind him.
The Wicked Dragon Sword was slowly rising above his head.
"Tsk."
The moment he felt his sword tip catch the edge of the bright full moon. A chilling voice struck his ear.
"Your swordsmanship is quite tempting."
Shiiiing!
Watching the returning Wicked Dragon Sword, Jo Hyu tilted his head.
"Gwanak?"
Brushing dust from his blood robe, Jo Hyu asked.
"What happened?"
"Heh heh. Something did. Quite satisfying, in fact."
The place he pointed to had a bloodied man being dragged by the Ten Swords.
Completely unconscious, head lolling, his wounds so severe it was a miracle he was alive.
"Who is he?"
"The Dark Lord's companion."
"Oh?"
There was already word of a swordsman following the Dark Lord.
"The expert who beheaded the Self-Net Sect Leader. You've hooked a big one."
"He put up quite a fight. Gave him a little taste of death."
"Any need to keep him alive? Might as well eliminate the root of trouble."
"Seems to have a deep connection with the Dark Lord. Valuable as a hostage, but."
Grabbing and shaking the disheveled hair dripping blood, the unconscious head flopped limply.
"His swordsmanship was surprisingly impressive. It'll make a fine gift for the Young Leader."
Though envious of the credit stolen, Jo Hyu composed himself.
'We're the Twin Dragon escorts.'
If it benefited the Twin Dragon Sect, there was no need to compete for merit.
Besides, hadn't he earned considerable merit himself?
"The Hao Clan surrendered."
"Tsk tsk. Worth the trouble of staging this spectacle."
"Let's go. Time to remind those lowly things who owns this castle."
In the center of the central market.
Amid thousands forced to kneel, a stage rose like an island.
High on a golden dais beneath the emblem of entwined black and red dragons.
Twin Dragon Sect Young Leader An Jin-baek sat on the throne, overlooking the scene.
"All 1,256 suspected Hao Clan members captured."
"Only the Young Leader's judgment remains."
The thousands dragged in dared not lift their heads before the Ten Swords with drawn blades on the grand stage and the White Swords encircling it.
Surveying their trembling in fear, An Jin-baek smirked.
"The bastard should be showing up around now."
But the Dark Lord did not appear.
"He must have chickened out."
"If he's sane, he'll seek his own escape."
The gathered force was half the Twin Dragon Sect's power.
No expert could face it fearless.
"Seems so."
With White Swords, Ten Swords, and the sect's top three elites present, no sane man would dare show.
"Vile cur. Think you can hide in fear?"
Tsking his tongue, An Jin-baek beckoned Jo Hyu.
"Bring the Hao Clan members."
"Young Leader. They're filthy and worthless. No need for you to judge personally."
"I intend to show these fools the fate of the Hao Clan they trusted and followed."
"Tsk tsk. Ingenious."
Jo Hyu shouted to the Ten Swords.
"Drag them all here!"
'...Am I still alive?'
Yahul Cheok felt his dizzy mind slowly clearing.
Agonizing pain wracked his body enough to black out repeatedly, but growing accustomed, he opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings.
'Looks like they've tied me up.'
Nearby, milk-white swordsmen and golden swordsmen stood imposingly on a lavish stage.
'White Swords and Ten Swords...?'
Indeed formidable foes.
The Wicked Dragon Sword was strong, but the Ten Swords were no pushovers.
'If only my Flame King Nine Heavens Sword attainment were a bit higher.'
Steeling his regret, as his mind sharpened, the surroundings came into clearer focus.
"Spare us, Young Leader! We're innocents!"
'Hao Clan members...?'
He vaguely recalled seeing them at the branch hall.
"Have mercy! Please spare us!"
Some banged their heads desperately, begging for life.
Most he'd seen at the Hao Clan branch were nonstop kowtowing toward the throne where the Young Leader sat.
'...Not all of them.'
Only the one-armed elder knelt aside, screaming defiance.
"You lot! And you call yourselves a sect... Gah!"
But the armless, martial-less man's rant was silenced by indiscriminate kicks.
'Tch. It's over.'
They'd talked of founding a sect.
Not just the captives, but even those watching from afar seemed swallowed by fear.
Having learned the Twin Dragon Sect's terror, they'd resist even less than before.
'Worst case.'
And he'd be complicit in that wave.
As he tsked, a sharp shout rang out.
"Foolish worms. Where is the Dark Lord?"
"He is..."
As the Hao Clan members exchanged glances, one rose.
"I know."
Branch Leader Naeng Yeom stood with resigned expression.
"He's asleep in the western lodge of the main hall now."
"Asleep?"
"Before coming here, I fed him wine and food laced with qi-dispersing poison."
'Qi-dispersing poison.'
A toxin that scatters one's internal energy upon ingestion.
Hard to obtain, but possible for a Hao Clan branch leader.
"I'll tell you the Dark Lord's location. Please forgive us."
Kneeling and banging his head, no trace remained of the branch leader's dignity.
For the first time, a pleased smile curved An Jin-baek's lips.
"Merit deserves reward."
Beckon. The Wicked Dragon Sword Gwanak stepped forward and bowed.
"They're enemies defying the main sect. How shall we dispose of them?"
"Those who defy the Twin Dragons usually have their eyes gouged."
"Did that tongue spread word? 'The Dark Lord comes to end the Twin Dragons'?"
"Cutting out the scheming tongue and slicing off the ears is fitting."
"So it is."
Speaking of them like others' affairs, the Young Leader beckoned.
"Execute punishment on that one first as an example."
"Y-Young Leader!"
The dragged and seated Hao Clan members surged up in protest, but.
"Filthy vermin!"
"Daring to raise your heads!"
"Raising voices at the Young Leader?!"
Thud thud thud thud.
The lined-up Hao Clan members curled in agony, kicked in guts and backs, amid piteous screams.
Witnessing it, fear spread further in the onlookers' eyes.
"Watch closely. This is the fate of those who defy the Twin Dragons."
Shing.
Sounds of swords drawn here and there, and as the Thousand Swords leaped among the people, terrified screams erupted.
In the hellish chaos of the plaza.
'Will he come?'
A doubt surfaced amid his flickering consciousness.
'Probably not.'
He wasn't truly the Dark Lord's subordinate yet.
'Truly regrettable.'
Death was inevitable, but oddly, the Dark Lord's proposal resurfaced.
- We'll found a sect of our own.
'Perhaps that's what lingers as regret.'
Unsure if feasible, much less possible, but the sentiment arose.
'What did he say was needed to found and build a sect?'
The Dark Lord had said.
"Rather than filling warehouses with wealth, fill enemies' hearts with fear."
Asked how to acquire land and buildings, he replied.
"Enemies' fear will raise the walls, and reverence toward you will tower higher than any hall."
'Is that possible?'
No telling now. Likely never.
Yet why? His words kept coming back.
"People like that, when weeping in despair, don't need lifting—they'll find and sing songs of hope on their own."
'A song?'
Curiously surfacing was a tune learned recently.
Oddly, amid fading mind and ebbing life, the melody replayed in his head, carried out on a nasal hum.
"Hey there, heavens."
Starting playfully.
"They say the earth hardens after rain..."
A mournful, lonely dirge.
"Why is my life but mud alone..."
A poem of the lowliest lamenting to the sky.
"I prepared seeds awaiting hardened ground, yet why won't this rain cease?"
A song pouring woes to heaven and sea.
"Answer me, O heavens."
The Lament of the Vast Sea.
The song of the lowly and humble's sorrow.