Chapter 225
Chapter 225: Broken Sword (1)
The wind was cold.
Morning fog lay thick over the mountain path. Visibility was barely enough to see fifteen meters.
Through that fog, people walked.
No—to call it walking was a stretch.
One with only a right leg. Others limping while propping each other up. One moving his feet mechanically with vacant eyes.
Though they were using both feet, in truth they were closer to being dragged along.
Over two hundred people.
Among them, fewer than one in ten was uninjured. The rest were borrowing shoulders, being carried on backs, or using swords instead of walking sticks.
The robes that had once been pure white were stained with blood and mud, and many of the swords hanging at their waists had broken scabbards with the blade half exposed.
The Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect.
A great pillar of the Orthodox Martial World.
A procession unbecoming of that name.
The man at the front stopped walking.
Mid-thirties. His left arm was gone. From the shoulder down, the severed place was bound tightly in blood-soaked bandages, and from the ends of those bandages, dark red fluid still seeped.
Jin Ha-gyeong.
Manor Lord of Dragon Spring Sword Manor, a branch of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect.
Now he was neither manor lord nor anything else.
Dragon Spring Sword Manor had ceased to exist four days ago.
At dawn, those who came chanting the name of the Buddha. The mad ones wearing black kasayas and turning bone rosaries slaughtered over a hundred disciples in less than one hour.
Jin Ha-gyeong had barely escaped with one arm and only thirty disciples.
Even those thirty dwindled by ten during the retreat, and after joining with survivors from other branches they had encountered on the mountain path, their numbers swelled then shrank again.
Even after that, the Dark Net Rakshasa Path's pursuit continued.
A small unit of the Nacharjeon monk squads. Under the name of ritual prayer, they hunted us without cease.
Slowly, yet steadily, they were being hunted.
When wounded survivors from branches and affiliated families that had been struck elsewhere joined them, the numbers would swell, only to quickly shrink once more.
That was because the enemy's ritual prayers showed no sign of ending.
In the midst of it all, he lost an arm. Fortunately, he had cut down nine enemies. For the price of one arm, that was not too bad.
Communication with the main mountain had been severed long ago.
If the rumor that the Sword Branch Corps had been destroyed was true, the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect's branch defense network itself had collapsed.
There was nowhere to go.
So they walked south. There was no reason. The north had enemies, and so did the east. The west was swarming with other Unorthodox Faction forces.
After eliminating direction after direction, south was simply what remained.
Joining here and scattering there, a number that had once exceeded five hundred had risen and fallen until barely over two hundred were left.
The number killed in their main sect without putting up proper resistance likely exceeded two thousand.
The encouraging sign, at least, was that no one had been lost in the past two days.
'……No more pursuit then.'
Jin Ha-gyeong looked back.
The foul, sticky energy that had been felt all throughout had disappeared since the night before last.
Whether they had given up the pursuit.
Or whether they had gone after bigger prey.
Either way, it didn't matter now.
They were still alive, at least.
"Manor Lord."
A low voice came from behind.
"There is a smell of water."
Jin Ha-gyeong raised his head.
Beyond the fog, silver faintly glimmered.
A lake?
"It appears to be Rainbow Lake, Manor Lord."
"Rainbow Lake?"
"Yes. I believe there is such a lake in this direction."
"Anything of note?"
"……I had heard it was a place filled with mountain bandits."
"Bandits?"
"Yes, Manor Lord."
"……Never mind. Now is not the time to worry about mere bandits."
Jin Ha-gyeong spoke sharply, suppressing the pain.
"Move. We resupply water there. If bandits show themselves, cut them down without hesitation."
A sigh of relief escaped from behind.
Three days.
Three days of walking without rest. Those who could not walk were carried, and those who could not be carried……were left behind.
It was not that he had forgotten. Jin Ha-gyeong remembered the faces of every single one left behind. But he had to be able to remember while still walking. The luxury of stopping to remember was not something the living could afford.
Each time, Jin Ha-gyeong clenched his teeth but did not look back.
To look back was to stop, and to stop was for all of them to die.
"Bring water first. Feed the wounded first."
Jin Ha-gyeong gave a brief order.
Two men staggered down toward the lake below the mountain path.
Then.
Jin Ha-gyeong's ear twitched.
It was not the wind.
And it was the sound of quite a few people.
It was coming from somewhere along the edge of the lake, beyond the fog.
"Aaargh!"
"Aaagh!"
Battle cries. Followed by dull striking sounds.
Training.
Those sounds were the sounds of martial artists training.
Jin Ha-gyeong's one eye narrowed.
"Was there no information about a sect in this area?"
"At least as far as I know—no."
Then who exactly……is it? Have actual bandits appeared?
In their current state, even bandits would be a crisis.
But still—mere bandits they could handle. Such people could be driven off with even a show of force.
However.
Please, let it not be the Unorthodox Faction……
If it was the Unorthodox Faction, meeting them in this state would mean death.
If, by chance, it was the Orthodox Path……could they ask for help?
Help.
That word sat bitterly on his tongue.
Asking for help in the name of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect.
Until recently, that name alone was order itself. With that name alone, bandits would kneel and government offices would clear the way.
Now, even having fled this far south, he could not be certain that name would still serve as a shield.
What could one protect with only a sword hilt remaining?
Though merely a branch, if a disciple of the Orthodox Martial World's mightiest sword sect had to bow his head to some nameless mountain force—it was possible.
Pride tried to rear its head, but Jin Ha-gyeong looked back.
Over two hundred blood-stained faces.
Among them, the eyes that were still conscious were turned toward him. Eyes waiting to see what the manor lord would do.
Ah, what is pride worth? Standing atop the blood of his subordinates, was this small handful of pride really all he had built?
Pride cannot save people.
"Halt."
Jin Ha-gyeong stopped the procession.
"Wait here. This manor lord will confirm it first."
"Manor Lord, alone is……"
"It is fine. Do I not still have one arm intact?"
Jin Ha-gyeong gripped his sword tightly with his right hand and walked into the fog.
Thud.
The procession of broken swords stood still on the mountain path, watching the back of a precarious man.
***
The fog began to lift.
As he left the mountain path and descended toward the lake's edge, his field of vision widened. Sunlight shattered and sparkled across the surface of the water.
And then.
People came into view.
Jin Ha-gyeong's feet stopped.
It was not one or two.
A wide clearing on the northern shore of the lake. In an open space with its back to an empty stronghold, quite a large number of martial artists were exchanging punches in pairs.
The source of the battle cries he had heard earlier.
The sparring formations were extremely systematic.
This is not bandits.
Bandits do not spar like this. Pairing off in twos, at regular intervals, even matching battle cries—this was a sect's training method.
However.
The disciples' skills were uneven. There were those whose punches carried internal energy in their trajectory, while others were only striking air. Those with martial arts fundamentals embedded in their footwork and those charging in with nothing were mixed together.
A newly founded sect, perhaps.
But why would a newly founded sect be training out here by this remote lake?
At that moment.
Something was felt from behind the clearing.
At first it was faint.
A change so subtle it seemed as if the direction of the wind had merely shifted. But with every step forward, it grew clearer.
The air was growing heavier.
More precisely, it was not growing heavier—its density had changed. As if stepping one foot at a time into water, breathing grew gradually more labored.
Energy.
Someone's energy was filling this entire area without gap.
It was not suppression. It was not killing intent.
It was simply there.
As water fills a river, as air fills the sky, that energy was imbued in this space as though it naturally belonged.
Jin Ha-gyeong's gaze moved to seek the source of that energy.
Beneath the shade of the stronghold.
A man sat there.
Resting his back against a tree, sword laid across his knees, looking down at the sparring grounds.
He was simply sitting still.
And yet.
……!
Jin Ha-gyeong swallowed dryly.
The hand gripping his sword grew damp with sweat, and his knees trembled faintly. It was not solely from days of exhaustion.
As the manor lord of Dragon Spring Sword Manor, he had met countless masters. He had naturally encountered the elders of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect's main mountain, and had met with the Sword Branch Corps Leaders countless times.
But that man was different.
They deliberately projected their ki when necessary, intentionally making it apparent. That was something any master could do, whether of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect or the Dark Net Rakshasa Path. Project ki, intimidate, measure the opponent.
That man was projecting nothing.
Simply sitting still, yet the entire space was that man's domain.
It was possible to know just by looking. That the shade of the stronghold, the wind of the lake, even the dust of the sparring grounds—all revolved around that man.
……What is that?
There was no category to place it in.
Peak of Transcendence? The Realm of Transformation?
That it was beyond his ability to gauge could have been due to the limits of his own level, but more than that, the very texture of that energy was the problem.
It was entirely unlike Vast Heaven Energy.
Nor was it like Evil Energy.
It did not resemble the texture of any energy Jin Ha-gyeong had sensed in his entire life.
Immortal?
He had never come face to face with an immortal, but……there was a clarity and coldness like a mountain spring deep in the woods, and yet a depth that had no visible bottom.
Then the man's gaze turned this way.
His grip on the sword tightened involuntarily.
That was how he barely suppressed the trembling.
That was how he barely managed to not avert his eyes.
The man stood up.
Slowly. As if there was no urgency.
Step. Step.
With each approaching step, the weight of the air changed. It did not grow heavier. It actually grew lighter. The strange sensation that as the man drew near, instead of pressure, calm arrived.
That was more frightening.
Killing intent he could have defended against. Intimidation he would have met with his sword. But this was like someone drowning in water being unable to resist the water. It was not something meant to be resisted in the first place.
The man stopped fifteen meters ahead, and at close range, their eyes met.
Deep.
Eyes that appeared to hold nothing while simultaneously seeming to contain everything.
No hostility, no goodwill, no wariness—none of it could be read.
He was simply looking.
As one might look at rain. As one might look at the wind.
As one might look at something that makes no difference whether it is there or not.
Jin Ha-gyeong understood instinctively.
To this man, I am not a threat.
The manor lord of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect, standing with sword drawn and energy extended, yet there was not even a trace of wariness in the other's eyes.
That was not rudeness.
It was simply fact, and because it was, it stung all the more.
There had been a time when, under the name of Dragon Spring Sword Manor's manor lord, he held a seat at branch gatherings and sat across from the main mountain elders sharing tea. Even as a branch manor lord, bearing the name of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect on his back, wherever he went, the road was cleared.
That name had no meaning now.
A manor lord with one arm lost, wearing blood-stained robes and holding a broken sword, standing before someone whose name he did not even know.
What could one protect with only a sword hilt remaining?
The man spoke first.
"Where do you come from?"
A composed voice. Neither low nor high—a flat, wind-like tone.
Jin Ha-gyeong bit his lip.
Should he give his name?
To someone he did not know to be Orthodox or Unorthodox—would revealing himself as the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect be advantageous, or disadvantageous?
But there was no room to say something false. There were nearly two hundred wounded waiting behind him.
Damn pride tried to rear its head once more, but Jin Ha-gyeong deliberately killed it.
He reminded himself once more.
Pride cannot save people.
"……I am Jin Ha-gyeong, Manor Lord of Dragon Spring Sword Manor, a branch of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect."
The man's expression did not change.
He neither startled at the name of the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect, nor grew wary, nor offered a welcome.
Not even a flicker.
In any case, was it not the Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect? The devastation of war could not yet have spread this far south, so it was simply none of his concern. For this man, that is.
……A frightening man.
"Your injuries are severe."
It was not a question—it was a diagnosis.
The severed left arm. The blood-soaked bandages. The faltering footwork. The wavering sword tip.
His eyes would have already read all of it.
"……They are."
For now, the single fact that no hostility could be felt in the other's voice was enough to bring relief.
"There are over two hundred more wounded behind me. Most are in a state where even walking is difficult."
The man's eyes turned briefly in the direction behind Jin Ha-gyeong—toward the mountain path where the fog was lifting—then returned.
Did he already know?
He could not be certain. But what was clear was that the man's gaze had pointed precisely in the direction where the two hundred were.
Even with Jin Ha-gyeong's own energy sense, gauging the position of two hundred people at this distance was difficult. That meant this man had read it from where he sat.
Cold sweat ran down his back.
"Was it the Dark Net Rakshasa Path?"
Jin Ha-gyeong's eyes widened.
"……You know of it?"
"I had heard that war was imminent."
A brief answer.
But Jin Ha-gyeong read much within it.
That he had heard of war meant that this man and those following him were not simply a mountain sect. Because it meant they were reading the situation of the Martial World.
For a moment he moved his head and lips silently, then at last bowed his head.
"……I dare ask."
Jin Ha-gyeong reversed the sword, pressing the blade tip into the ground. The gesture of sheathing intent.
"Where is this place, and who are you?"
The man smiled.
A subtle change with only the corners of his mouth slightly raised—barely enough to call a smile.
And yet that smile was strangely reassuring. Whether his instincts had read the absence of hostility, or whether days at the extreme limit had dulled his judgment, he could not tell.
"We are Hero Gate."
Hero Gate.
A name he had never heard.
As the manor lord of a Vast Heaven Limitless Sword Sect branch, he had memorized most of the larger and smaller sects of the southwestern region, yet the name Hero Gate was nowhere among them.
"……That is a sect I have not heard of."
"We opened recently."
Composed. Not a boast nor an excuse—a listing of facts.
"And I am the Guild Master of this sect—Kim Rae-won."
Kim Rae-won.
Jin Ha-gyeong's breath stopped.
Kim Rae-won……?