Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Light Split Minor Sword
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Han Ibi barely managed to close the distance with them using his lightness skill.
He quickly grabbed the sleeves of the two disciples and slammed them face-first into the ground.
Thanks to that, he was able to save So Eun-ri.
But... Han Ibi's body was trembling uncontrollably.
For a moment, his heartbeat surged like a fierce wave, then receded like the tide.
It was because controlling the Crimson Dream Great Law was no easy task.
It was growling as if ready to devour him at any moment.
That was when it happened.
Suddenly, his breath caught in his throat.
Someone had wrapped their arm around his neck from behind, choking him.
It was So Eun-ri.
"Gah! S-So... So Junior Sister... Get a... grip! Argh!"
Han Ibi screamed.
It felt like his ear was about to be torn off.
So Eun-ri was hanging off his back, gnawing at his ear.
He could feel the warm blood trickling from his earlobe down to his jaw.
Han Ibi knew he had to pry off the fingers restraining him right away. Break them if he had to...
But... So Eun-ri of all people?
In his hesitation, the excruciating pain intensified, and he felt the wound on his ear tearing open wider.
"Argh!"
That was when it happened.
The choking pain around his neck vanished in an instant.
So Eun-ri was sprawled on the ground before he knew it.
Han Ibi turned around, wondering what had happened.
"Ah! Master!"
At that moment, he spotted Bok Yeon-hwa, her face contorted in agony, sweat pouring down.
She was the only one in this hellish chaos who hadn't lost her reason.
"Master! You're safe."
Then he saw So Eun-ri, who had fallen, rising again like a zombie.
The other Qingcheng disciples were charging toward Han Ibi and Bok Yeon-hwa as well.
Bok Yeon-hwa spoke in a strained voice.
"Run... Run away now..."
"What? Run away?"
"I... I can't hold out much longer... This is my limit..."
"How could I possibly abandon you and flee, Master?"
"Hurry... Hurry and go... Do you want us all to die together?"
Bok Yeon-hwa looked utterly exhausted.
"N-No, of course not."
"G-Go... Now!"
Han Ibi clenched his teeth, wrestling with indecision, but soon changed his mind.
He decided to find a way to turn things around.
"Yes. Understood, Master."
With that, Bok Yeon-hwa positioned herself between So Eun-ri and the other Qingcheng disciples.
She was blocking them to prevent the groups from clashing.
Han Ibi hesitated for a moment but then shouted loudly.
"I'll find a way and come back. Master! Please preserve your precious self!"
Han Ibi bolted out of the arena.
The buildings of the Qingcheng Sect grounds came into view.
A few disciples there had turned into zombies as well, their minds gone, fighting each other savagely.
Han Ibi considered helping for a second but realized it wouldn't change the tide, so he kept running.
He let out a heavy sigh as he thought.
'Ahh! What am I supposed to do? If things stay like this, everyone here will die.'
That was when it happened.
Han Ibi's eyes widened in realization.
The background music that now felt all too familiar.
The mournful, plaintive sound of the flute echoing in his ears.
In that instant, the plot of the original novel Dream of the Ant Snake flashed through Han Ibi's mind.
'Right! There's a sorcerer pulling the strings behind all this. He plays the flute to implant aggression in people's minds... And the place he's described as being is...'
Han Ibi broke into a sprint.
Everything had finally clicked into place.
The sorcerer was at the gate guard post.
It was the tallest building in the Qingcheng Sect grounds.
They needed it to watch for incoming enemies.
Han Ibi poured every ounce of strength into racing toward the guard post.
But...
"Someone's coming this way."
A shout rang out.
Glancing over, he saw they were dressed just like the black-clad masked figures from before.
His hunch was right.
The core of this sorcery attack was the flute's melody.
That's why they had gathered here to protect the sorcerer.
Han Ibi hesitated briefly but steeled himself for a desperate fight.
'Damn it. There are too many of them... I can't handle this alone right now. In that case...'
Han Ibi glanced down at his arm.
His meridians had returned to normal, glowing with a faint blue light.
'In that case... time to call out the Hulk... no, Crimson Dream? Those bastards deserve to get beaten anyway. Come on out, Crimson Dream!'
To activate the Crimson Dream Great Law, Han Ibi focused his mind on his dantian and waited.
But...
No reaction from his body, as if he'd boiled and eaten a frog.
'Ah... Aha ha. Crimson Dream. Crimson Dream. Are you sulking because I forced you back in?'
Of course, there was no reply.
Han Ibi sweated profusely, staring at the approaching black-clad foes.
'Damn it... I can't just turn it on and off at will... Do I need to get mad like the Hulk or something?'
At that moment, one black-clad man swung his sword at him.
Han Ibi dodged with Eight Trigrams Steps, parrying with his sword, but soon retreated.
Another was launching an assault.
Han Ibi desperately defended against the black-clad man's attacks.
Each clash of swords sent stabbing pains through his wounded shoulder and abdomen, nearly killing him.
Then four more black-clad men closed in.
'Oh no. This is bad. Even two are tough, and now more are coming...'
In his desperation, he unleashed a swift thrust from the Hanjo Sword's fast forms.
But some of these guys specialized in swift swordplay, just like the two masked men earlier.
So there was a limit to how many he could handle alone.
Gradually, his clothes tore, blood seeping through.
'Ugh. Isn't this enough to make me mad? Crimson Dream! Save me!'
But the Crimson Dream Great Law seemed utterly indifferent to its master's plight.
Han Ibi could only flail desperately to minimize his injuries.
'Damn it, if I'd known, I'd have paid more attention to Crimson Dream all this time...'
That was when it happened.
"Argh!"
A chilling scream rang out as one black-clad man collapsed.
Bright red blood sprayed like a fountain from his severed carotid artery.
Han Ibi whipped around in surprise and shouted joyfully.
"Ah! Brother! It was you!"
Yes.
The one who had slain the black-clad man was none other than Jong Ri-hyeok.
"Where the hell have you been? You're just now showing up!"
But before such trivial questions could get a response, Jong Ri-hyeok was locked in fierce combat with two black-clad men.
The moment their attention shifted to the sudden ambush...
'Opportunity knocks!'
Han Ibi leaped into the air and activated Eagle's Eye Technique.
His surroundings turned green.
A crosshair sight appeared simultaneously.
'Zoom in!'
He no longer needed the power of Crimson Dream Great Law; zooming was possible now.
One black-clad man's chest entered the crosshair.
Han Ibi swiftly switched the Hanjo Sword to his left hand.
'This way, I can maintain the swift attribute!'
He drew a throwing knife from his bosom.
Spinning in midair, he hurled it with all his might.
Shing!
The knife sliced through the air.
"Watch out!"
One black-clad man yelled.
But it was too late.
The throwing knife, infused with swift attribute, was leagues beyond Han Ibi's usual attempts.
Like firing a pistol, the short blade embedded itself in the black-clad man's chest in an instant.
Heart rupture.
'Hit!'
The black-clad man fighting Jong Ri-hyeok died without even a scream.
And the one distracted by his comrade's death met his end at the tip of Jong Ri-hyeok's blade, throat slit.
"Nice one, Brother!"
Han Ibi grimaced from the agony of his wounds reopening, but in this moment, he wanted to rush over for a high-five.
But he had to refocus.
Two more black-clad men were charging at him.
One of them, perhaps a friend of the one killed by the knife, attacked with savage grief and fury.
In that instant, Han Ibi recalled a sword technique he had forgotten.
Light Split Minor Sword...
'Good. Let's see if the photocopy can shine against swift swords.'
Han Ibi dropped into a horse stance before the oncoming black-clad foes.
Jong Ri-hyeok, who had been silent until now, shouted in disbelief.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Even as the black-clad men bore down like they were about to commit suicide, Han Ibi held his stance.
Jong Ri-hyeok urgently shouted and prepared to rush in.
"Y-You lunatic, are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Then one black-clad man swung to decapitate Han Ibi.
Han Ibi slowly raised his Hanjo Sword.
The enemy's blade was poised to sever his neck.
That was when it happened.
Shing!
The defensive form of Light Split Minor Sword.
Sword fights were fundamentally about paths.
Han Ibi blocked the opponent's path with the most basic defense.
The black-clad man smirked triumphantly and altered his strike.
Now it aimed not for the neck, but the shoulder.
A split-second change.
Clang!
Surprisingly, metal clashed.
Looking closely, it was Han Ibi's sword meeting the enemy's.
Instead of countering the change, Han Ibi kept his basic defensive form, sword close to his body.
The most fundamental block any Qingcheng novice learned.
Of course, Han Ibi wasn't satisfied.
His sword slipped past the enemy's deviated blade and thrust straight.
A straightforward path, devoid of tricks or flair.
The black-clad man puzzledly swung to block the thrust.
But...
To his astonishment, he felt he couldn't block it.
The thrust targeted the most "elusive" angle in infinite space.
It wasn't "swordsmanship" but "timing" and "subtle positioning" that formed the core of the technique.
The black-clad man panicked and tried to retreat.
But...
Pshuk!
Han Ibi's sword surged forward, rippling with swift energy.
Thanks to the Hanjo Sword, no doubt.
Splurt!
A sickening sound accompanied a spray of blood.
The black-clad man clutched his chest and fell.
That was the last sight Jong Ri-hyeok caught before turning to fight his own assailants.
'Weird. That's definitely the basic thrust from the Qingcheng manual...'
But he had no time for deep thought.
He was locked in fierce battle with three or four charging black-clad men.
Meanwhile, Han Ibi stood his ground, parrying the attacks of the approaching foes.
His expression was calm.
Today, he had gained a profound realization.
The essence he couldn't grasp despite diligent training ripened naturally.
Unknowingly, one corner of his lips curled up.
A thrilling freshness mixed dissonantly with gripping fear, birthing a strange pleasure.
He met the oncoming black-clad men from his stance.
Fortunately, none matched the strength of the first two he'd faced.
'They must've sent their aces into the grounds... What luck.'
Han Ibi boldly shouted.
"Come on, you mutts!"
As the situation turned dire, several black-clad men rushed him at once.
Han Ibi had no choice but to abandon the horse stance.
Still, he stuck to the basics.
Horizontal slashes, diagonal cuts, thrusts, flat-of-blade strikes—he felled the black-clad men with textbook basic swordsmanship.
Then Jong Ri-hyeok turned after downing the last of his foes.
The protagonist had slain far fewer than Han Ibi.
Jong Ri-hyeok spoke in disbelief.
(To be continued in the next chapter)