Annihilation
Sweeping his hair back, Myeong Hyeon exhaled a long breath.
The number was two hundred.
An absolutely staggering number. Granted, the strongest among them was no more than a Fortress Master of the Five Dragon Rampart, but their numbers could never be dismissed.
He was still recovering from his wounds. He had sent his wife and child to someone he could trust — for at least five years, they would be safe beyond any doubt.
And who did he owe all of that to?
Yi Do.
Yi Do had given him trust, so he had to repay that trust in kind.
Two hundred assassins. Alone, it would have been a strain — but it was doable.
"Hey there, junior."
Un Dohyeon turned his head.
"I'll carve up the front, so you hang back as far as you can and hunt down anyone trying to run."
"I'm the unit leader. Is it really your place to give me orders?"
"Tsk."
Un Dohyeon snorted a laugh.
"Fine. As my senior, I'll spare your face this once."
"You brat. You get cuter every time I look at you."
Un Dohyeon waved a hand as if to say enough, and drew his sword.
It happened in the blink of an eye. Myeong Hyeon's blade buried itself in the skull of an assassin charging right at him. The soft shunk of steel piercing flesh had barely faded before a second assassin beside him dropped to the ground, headless.
"Ah — sorry about that. There's someone I need to impress today."
A smile curling at his lips, Myeong Hyeon lashed out with his foot. An assassin's abdomen exploded on impact, blood and flesh spraying through the air. Beyond it, he flung the sword he held, and the blade skewered two more heads in a single line. He drew another sword from his waist.
Yacha.
Who was he?
A warrior who had hidden his identity and cleaned up after the Sword Emperor. The name Yacha was unknown to the world.
But the deeds he had carried out left traces behind, and those who witnessed those traces came to call that beast of carnage the Blood Shadow Sword.
No one knew his name — so everyone simply called him the Nameless.
The Blood Shadow Sword left blood spilled everywhere it went, and never left a single witness alive. All that remained in its wake was the vivid imprint of demonic qi.
Myeong Hyeon prized the swift sword. His original art was the Ink Dragon Asura Sword Method — a technique bound to the Ink Dragon Asura Art, whose hallmark was seizing the subtleties of the fast blade and riding a sudden eruption of demonic qi to shred an opponent apart in an instant.
Even stripped of every trace of demonic qi, the fundamental trajectory of the sword art did not change.
Myeong Hyeon's blade split an onrushing assassin's skull clean in half. Another sword thrust toward him — he caught it with his bare hand, poured force into the point, and drove it forward.
Shunk.
A head was pierced through, then burst apart. Blood splashed across Myeong Hyeon's face. He didn't blink. Spinning his body, he swung the sword in a great arc.
Three heads fell to the ground. He licked his lips.
He scooped a fallen sword off the ground and surged forward. An assassin came into view. Their eyes met. He hammered the blade down. The man reacted, but the steel sank deep into his shoulder. Myeong Hyeon released that sword, then drove his other blade straight into the assassin's throat. Withdrawing it, he deflected a sword flying at him from behind, spun, and whipped out his leg. With a wet crack, the assassin's burst skull shattered into fragments that sprayed in every direction.
He killed.
And killed again.
"HAHAHAHAHA—!!"
Bellowing mad laughter, Myeong Hyeon butchered the assassins where they stood.
Beside him, Un Dohyeon was cutting them down as well, his refined inner force flaring bright. As different as the two men were in temperament, so too did their movements differ — Myeong Hyeon was sharp and utterly unrestrained, while Un Dohyeon was measured and deliberate.
Un Dohyeon's sword knocked aside a blade flying at him. He retreated a step. Two daggers came hurtling in — he batted each aside. An opening appeared.
He drove his sword straight into it. A hazy aura of the Five Elements gathered around his blade.
CRACKLE-CRACK-CRACK—!
Three assassins caught within that trajectory were torn apart in an instant. Sheathing the follow-through, he tilted his head back — a dagger sliced past right in front of his face.
He shifted back a single step. A descending sword grazed past his nose and buried itself in the ground. He thrust out his own blade. Shunk — an assassin's throat was punctured through.
Un Dohyeon and Myeong Hyeon moved with steady, unrelenting rhythm.
Kill, and kill again.
When anyone fled, Un Dohyeon raced after them and cut them down. The wounds on Myeong Hyeon's body multiplied, and wounds accumulated on Un Dohyeon's body as well.
But unlike the terrified assassins, these two possessed absolute faith.
And the wellspring of that faith was, of course, Yi Do.
Un Dohyeon stole a glance sideways.
Yi Do was carving apart a colossal wave crashing down from the sky with his sword.
BOOOOOM—!!
The sound rang clear in Myeong Hyeon and Un Dohyeon's ears, and—
WHAAAAM—!
The storm of qi erupting from the clash staggered the assassins on their feet.
It was the chance.
The two men lunged and severed the heads of five rattled assassins in a single breath.
Myeong Hyeon laughed.
And Un Dohyeon laughed too.
What does it mean to reach the realm of Five Qi Returning to Origin?
It does not simply mean becoming stronger than those of lower realms.
To reach Five Qi Returning to Origin is to be able to read intent.
And intent holds a great deal within it — all of it shining brightest in a fight against another person. Where will the opponent strike from? What kind of attack will they use? All of it can be read.
This is precisely why warriors of the Five Qi Returning to Origin caliber are treated with reverence wherever they go.
I raised the Cloud Dragon Sword toward Han Beom-seong's outstretched fist.
The fist connected.
WHAAAAM—!!
My body skidded backward. Considerable destructive force. A strange brown light was radiating from Han Beom-seong's frame — the Earth element among the energies of the Five Elements.
To reach the Heaven-Earth Realm means to wield the qi of the Five Elements — and ordinarily, those below that realm cannot stand against its masters. It is an energy far superior to ordinary qi; the mere act of opposing it is impossible.
And yet.
I can.
Because I wield pure qi.
Three rings spun with ferocious speed. I deflected Han Beom-seong's reaching fist, then knocked aside the next punch that followed it. Power gathered in my legs.
Flying Dragon Coiling Pursuit.
My body shot forward at the speed of light, and riding that momentum I swung the Cloud Dragon Sword.
The blade ascends beyond the sky, wreathed in rolling thunder.
KRAKOOOOM—!!
With a roar of thunder, a soft shhk — Han Beom-seong's shoulder was carved open. I turned my head faster than the spraying blood could fall. His fist was already reaching for me. I twisted my face aside; a graze sliced my cheek. The distance was far too close. I swung the sword's hilt — it was blocked against his forearm. In that instant his arm shifted, and he seized the edge of the Cloud Dragon Sword.
That was fine.
I had anticipated it.
I shot out my left hand and seized Han Beom-seong's sternum. His brow furrowed. I shoved hard sideways, sending his body spinning through the air, and lashed out with a kick. Even with his balance collapsed, Han Beom-seong flung a fist at me.
My heel hammered into his solar plexus — and his fist hammered into mine.
WHAAAAAM—!!
Han Beom-seong was slammed into the ground, and I was flung far away. Planting the Cloud Dragon Sword — which I still hadn't released — into the earth, I steadied myself. The moment I raised my head, a fist came hurtling at my face.
Fast.
He'd recovered his balance before I did, and closed the distance in an instant on the strength of natural qi.
The trajectory. And then — Han Beom-seong's intent, pressing in on my senses.
That was unmistakably the Heaven-Breaking Twelve Linked Fists. Its hallmark: twelve consecutive strikes delivered from unpredictable stances and unpredictable angles.
I didn't dodge. I drove my forehead straight into it.
WHAM!
Han Beom-seong faltered — but his fist was already coming again. I tensed my legs and shifted my body.
Heavenly Steed Divine Steps.
Kunlun's peerless footwork unfolded at full intensity. I evaded the reaching fist. Evaded the one slicing in from the side. A fist came straight at my face — I hammered my elbow down. WHAM, his fist drove into the ground, and the crater it carved failed to break my balance.
Because I had been expecting it.
I thrust out the Cloud Dragon Sword. The target was Han Beom-seong's throat. Horrified, he wrenched his head aside with everything he had.
Shhk—!
I carved into his neck — precisely one inch deep.
Not enough.
Kicking off the ground, I reached out. My hand clamped around Han Beom-seong's shoulder.
Cloud Dragon Seizure.
Even if my arm were crushed to pulp, I had no intention of letting go. Once you seize the advantage, you must end it there.
No matter that pure qi let me trade blows evenly, no matter that Five Qi Returning to Origin let me read a measure of intent —
the gap in realm could never be dismissed.
Han Beom-seong, already rattled, was thrown into further confusion by what I did next.
I released the Cloud Dragon Sword. My hand felt light. I clenched it into a fist and drove it forward.
CRACK—!
Han Beom-seong's face snapped sideways. I struck again.
THUD — this time, it was caught.
"Grabbing me, are you?"
I drove my knee upward. CRACK — his body jackknifed, and at the same moment his grip crushed down on my arm.
Crunch, crunch.
Flesh twisted, bone splintered. It hurt — but I didn't let it show. Only then did he release his hand.
I swept my shattered hand backward.
Shattered or not — I could still use it.
That was all that mattered.
I poured every ounce of qi into the index finger of my right hand. A blinding light that could turn blackest night to noon in an instant flooded into the fingertip.
Han Beom-seong went pale with shock.
I ignored him.
And drove it home.
Shunk.
My index finger plunged into Han Beom-seong's sternum.
It is said the sect master of old split mountains with this single finger.
In the past, the sect master of Kunlun was said to have blasted mountains apart with this technique. I had not reached that caliber of realm — but bursting a single man was no great difficulty.
I detonated my pure qi.
All at once.
WHAAAAAM—!!
Han Beom-seong's body erupted — and at the same moment, I winced.
It hurt. It felt as though my index finger had been shredded clean off.
However mighty pure qi might be, the body carrying it must be sound; cramming that much pure qi into a pulverized hand, this pain was only natural.
Snatching the Cloud Dragon Sword off the ground with my left hand, I walked over.
Han Beom-seong was staring blankly at the sky.
He could hardly do otherwise. Both his arms were severed, and his upper body hung parted from his lower.
I had tried to detonate his entire body at once, but his desperate final effort to disrupt the qi had borne fruit — at the very least, it had stopped him from exploding from head to toe.
Admirable, in its way. But the fight was over.
"……Khh…… you……. What in the world are you……?"
Han Beom-seong seemed to have many questions. It was only natural.
"……The intent of the Realm of Harmony…… how does a mere Five Qi Returning to Origin upstart like you read it and respond……?!"
I looked down at Han Beom-seong, consumed by spite. I understood him perfectly.
Even before reaching Five Qi Returning to Origin, I had predicted my opponents' attacks — but that had been movement built purely on my experience alone. Once one attains Five Qi Returning to Origin, even a Heaven-Earth Realm master's intent can be glimpsed faintly, and combined with my experience, this outcome was inevitable.
The number of opponents I had faced numbered in the thousands. A mere master of the Realm of Harmony?
Truly not difficult at all.
I leveled the Cloud Dragon Sword at Han Beom-seong's throat.
"Is that the whole of your last words?"
"……You are a demon. Nothing but a demon could explain this situation!"
A dry laugh escaped me.
"I have no wish to blame ignorance — but if you insist on defending your own shortcomings that way…… then I have nothing to say."
I pushed the sword slowly forward.
"Safe travels."
Shunk.
I turned my head.
Myeong Hyeon, who had just rammed a blade into the last assassin's throat, turned as well. The rascal flashed a grin and walked toward me. He was swaying on his feet, but he was walking all the same.
"Hard day's work, my lord."
I regarded him in silence.
He looked like a man who had bathed in blood, wounds visible everywhere — stab wounds, gashes. A wretched sight.
And yet the smile never left his face. A habit, clearly.
"You pushed yourself too hard."
"Got to push myself if I want to look good in front of the unit leader, don't I?"
I shook my head.
"What good is that if it gets you killed?"
"……"
"Good work."
He broke into a bright smile. This one, unmistakably, was genuine.
And then —
"You too. Good work."
"It was nothing."
Un Dohyeon looked comparatively unscathed next to Myeong Hyeon. He had his wounds, of course, but you could tell at a glance how the fight had gone — Myeong Hyeon on the front line, Un Dohyeon covering him.
My right hand throbbed. The wrist was crushed completely flat.
"……Shouldn't you have that treated?"
"It's fine. It heals once I sleep."
"……I see…… Then may I borrow your arm for a moment."
I held it out. Un Dohyeon tore a strip of cloth from a bloodless part of his clothing, then smashed his own scabbard apart. Pressing the fragments against my wrist, he bound the splint in place with the torn cloth. The pain of bone fragments grinding back inward rang through my skull, but I let nothing show.
"……The bone is set."
I nodded.
Myeong Hyeon, watching the two of us with an odd expression, pointed at Han Beom-seong's corpse lying at my feet.
"That, er…… you're not some ancient master rejuvenated into youth, are you?"
"No."
"……Not that, and yet you brought down a master of the Realm of Harmony."
The man had been counted among the Ten Great Masters of the world — it would be absurd if someone couldn't take him down just for lacking a bit of realm.
I extended the blade and severed Han Beom-seong's head cleanly.
Then, sheathing the Cloud Dragon Sword, I picked up the head.
"Why are you taking that? Starting a collection?"
"I have a use for it."
"……You're not planning to send it to the Pacheon Fist Sect, are you?"
I smiled.
"Everything has its moment. Even this."
"……"
"I will send it. Just not now."
Myeong Hyeon shrugged.
I spoke without ceremony.
"Erase every trace of the fight between Han Beom-seong and me. Burn his corpse, melt it, destroy it — wipe it away by any means necessary."
These two understood exactly what that meant.
As far as the world would know, I had never fought Han Beom-seong here. He never came to this place. Or perhaps — he fled alone before ever arriving. For any of those stories to hold together, the very traces of our battle had to cease to exist.
Myeong Hyeon seemed to have caught on.
"So this is how it was with the Golden Heaven Divine Sword, too."
"Back then, I didn't have the two of you."
"……"
"Erase it."