Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Translator: Penny
Chapter 15
Where My Sword Points (4)
I overwhelmed Jeong Yeo with my momentum.
He didn't recognize me. Even if he had seen me before, it would have been impossible for him to associate the reckless scion of the Byeokli Sword Family with the glint in my eyes and the aura I now possessed.
"Did you really enter the Martial Arts World merely to serve such pathetic lackeys?"
I sensed his turmoil in his wavering gaze.
With a flourish, I leaped swiftly downward.
Jeong Yeo was startled by my nimble footwork. There were physical skills I could demonstrate independent of my internal energy.
I deliberately showcased the essence of my movement techniques, and Jeong Yeo was skilled enough to recognize it.
Jeong Yeo's gaze shifted toward the entrance of the inner courtyard. The martial artists guarding the gate leaned against the wall, their heads bowed low.
"Are they dead?"
I shook my head. I had merely subdued their pressure points to knock them unconscious.
"Wait here. This is the moment your life changes."
Without waiting for Jeong Yeo's reply, I pushed open the door and stepped inside. He would be flooded with doubts, but ultimately, he would wait. If he hadn't already drawn his sword, he would.
Yang Gicheol and Blood Hound startled as I entered the room.
"You...?" Yang Gicheol recognized me instantly. No matter how my aura had changed, he couldn't possibly fail to recognize the man who had nearly beaten his son to death just the day before.
"Yes, it's me."
"'It's me'? What kind of insolent way is that to speak?" Yang Gicheol scowled, glaring coldly. But my next words were even icier.
"You, the man who ordered the annihilation of the family of someone I once called 'Brother,' dare to lecture me about courtesy? Just what kind of monster are you?"
Stung by the truth, Yang Gicheol fell silent. Instead, he radiated a ferocious aura, as if he might lunge forward and unleash a devastating palm strike at any moment.
But he remained cautious. He clearly couldn't understand how I had infiltrated this place or why I was acting so confident.
He spoke to the Blood Hound with the tone of issuing an order: "Eliminate him."
Once again, he proved himself to be a man who always prioritized his own survival, no matter the situation. He was wary of me.
Could I really kill Yang Gicheol? With only five years of internal energy and a body still unrefined from Byeok Ridan's training?
My answer was "yes."
If I had concluded that it would be difficult or that too many variables were involved, I wouldn't be standing here now.
I was confident I could kill them.
Of course, if the fight turned into a contest of internal force or a prolonged battle, I would be at a disadvantage.
But I had no intention of letting that happen.
My decisive advantage lay in their ignorance of my true capabilities.
I realized this when I visited the Byeok Clan Sword School earlier and saw Yang Gicheol strutting around with his hands clasped behind his back, oozing arrogance.
He was rusty.
If he were truly Shandong's foremost martial artist, facing him would be a challenge.
But he was merely the leader of Shandong's largest organization.
While both titles used the superlative "foremost," the difference between them was vast.
When was the last time Yang Gicheol saw real combat? A year ago? Two? It might have been over a decade. The higher one climbs in a large organization, the more distant they become from the battlefield.
The Blood Hound, on the other hand, seemed far more dangerous.
Just as Yang Gicheol had done earlier, the Blood Hound now revealed his true nature.
"I'll add five thousand taels."
"Crazy! This bastard was already on my kill list!"
"Not here, though."
"Five thousand taels just to kill some whelp? That's excessive."
"Then handle it yourself. Surely the Association Leader could crush a mere whelp like that with one hand?"
The Blood Hound crossed his arms and even took a step back.
"Damn it!"
Yang Gicheol glared at me again, unable to glean any information from my expression. He must have wondered why he hesitated to attack someone who looked like they could be taken down with a single punch. Despite his lack of practical combat experience, his instincts for sensing danger were still sharp.
"Fine. I'll give you five thousand nyang."
Only then did Blood Hound step forward with a sinister grin. "Much obliged, kid."
Despite his words, Blood Hound wasn't letting his guard down. Having lived as a ronin, he had sensed the danger radiating from me even faster than Yang Gicheol. He simply judged that it wasn't a threat he couldn't handle.
I wasn't letting my guard down either. This was the moment for my first proper fight since being reborn.
His weapon was an iron staff as thick as an adult's forearm.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Byeok Ridan gave the Iron Staff two quick, short swings, then immediately unleashed a deadly killing blow.
Bang! Papapapapang! Bang!
The Iron Staff smashed through the air with terrifying force, capable of shattering bones on impact.
It grazed my shoulder by a hair's breadth.
Byeok Ridan's body was undeniably slow. If I hadn't anticipated his attacks by observing the Blood Hound's movements, that single strike would have ended me.
This battle wasn't about Byeok Ridan's physical prowess, but rather my own accumulated experience.
The relentless barrage of the Iron Staff kept me on edge, knowing that a single mistake could cost me my life.
Then, from the depths of my chest, a feeling surged forth like molten lava—the burning will to fight.
Crash!
This time, my skull nearly cracked.
Despite the perilous situation, I reveled in the thrill of combat for the first time in ages.
It struck me anew: I truly loved to fight. That passion had driven me to become the Foremost Person Under Heaven. My later years, devoid of combat, had been intolerably dull.
Crash! Crack!
The objects in the room shattered.
Yang Gicheol, watching from the sidelines, smirked. Seeing me on the defensive, he likely believed Blood Hound would win. No doubt he was regretting the five thousand taels he'd wagered, wishing he'd handled this himself.
Blood Hound paused his assault.
"You little rat! You're good at dodging!" he taunted, savoring his assured victory.
But what he considered a moment of leisure, I saw as a fatal opening.
To him, it was a fleeting instant; to me, it felt like an eternity.
My sword flashed through the air.
Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Whirr! Whirr!
Shriek!
Two distinct sonic booms echoed as my blade sliced through the air.
The Blood Hound froze.
Rustle.
The hem of his robe was severed diagonally, revealing a crimson line beneath.
Rustle.
This time, the hem on the opposite side was sliced at an angle, leaving another crimson line.
An askew crimson X marked his chest.
I sidestepped slightly.
The next instant—
Swaaash!
The crimson lines split open, and blood erupted in the exact shape of the wounds.
The first form of the Soul-Chasing Asura Sword Art, Instantaneous Mark, had been unleashed.
Normally, his body would have shattered into pieces. But because I had only used three years' worth of internal energy, the technique's power was limited to this.
After spewing a torrent of blood, the Blood Hound collapsed face-first.
Thud.
He was already dead before he hit the ground.
I turned to see where the remaining two years of my internal energy had been directed.
Yang Gicheol stared in horror at the Blood Hound's lifeless body.
But soon, a searing pain blossomed in his chest, and he lowered his head.
Blood spread from the wound, staining his white robes crimson. Through the torn fabric, a swirling gash marred his chest—the unmistakable mark of the Second Form, True Life Mark.
I had split my five years of internal energy, channeling three years into Instantaneous Mark to strike the Blood Hound, and the remaining two years into True Life Mark to target Yang Gicheol.
Now, I was completely drained of internal energy. Until I could replenish it through Qi circulation and breathing exercises, I was utterly vulnerable. Yet Yang Gicheol, far from seizing this opportunity, was struggling merely to stay alive.
He spat out a torrent of dark crimson blood.
He likely never imagined that I, who had been so thoroughly outmatched by the Blood Hound, would dare to attack him. Even if he had been on guard, the strike would have been difficult to evade. Had he not instinctively twisted his body at the last moment, he would have been killed instantly.
Blood streamed from his mouth and chest, pooling thickly on the floor. He had probably never seen so much blood gushing from his own body.
"...S-spare me..."
I retrieved my sword and picked up the iron staff that had fallen to the floor.
Yang Gicheol was mortally wounded, but his wits remained sharp.
"...So, you're going to pin this on the Blood Hound and claim we engaged in Mutual Destruction!"
"Not exactly Mutual Destruction. It'll be said that this man killed you and fled."
Despair flooded Yang Gicheol's eyes.
"Spare me... I'll do anything you ask."
Ignoring his pleas, I continued to advance. Stumbling, he retreated toward a nearby wall.
"Wait... please! Just a moment!"
He frantically manipulated several mechanisms, and the wall rotated to reveal a hidden vault.
"If you spare me, I'll give you everything inside!"
"Still making demands? You're not quite desperate enough yet."
I strode forward and raised the iron staff high above my head, aiming for his skull.
Sometimes, overwhelming someone before they can even think makes opening a vault door easier.
Yang Gicheol's hands moved frantically. His selfish nature, coupled with the desperate situation threatening his life, had paralyzed his reason. His only thought was survival.
Sure enough, after a mere moment, the vault door swung open before he could even attempt to set the combination properly. Though even if he had, it wouldn't have mattered.
Inside the vault lay stacks of bills and piles of gold.
Leaning heavily against the wall, Yang Gicheol pleaded desperately, "If you liquidate all of this, it'll be over thirty thousand taels. Please..."
I stared at him. His eyes burned with a fervent desire to live.
But the coldness in my gaze was enough to extinguish that flame.
"Didn't I say earlier? In this Martial Arts World, there are only two kinds of people: the strong and the weak. The strong survive, and the weak die."
These were the same words I had spoken to Jeong Yeo earlier.
"Looks like you're the weak one today."
Thwack!
I swung the iron staff mercilessly, shattering his skull. The sickening crack echoed as his head burst open like a watermelon.
I wasn't merciful enough to spare the life of someone who had tried to slaughter my entire family.
Thwack!
Once again, I slammed the iron staff into his chest. His ribs shattered into pieces, obliterating the True Life Mark I had left behind.
Next, I struck the Blood Hound's chest, erasing all traces of my touch. Now that I had laid hands on him, I had to finish the job thoroughly.
As expected, Jeong Yeo hadn't left. She stood outside, waiting for the fight to end.
"Come in," I said.
He cautiously stepped inside.
The sight before him made him flinch, but he wasn't entirely surprised, as if he had half-expected something like this.
I swept everything from the leather pouch lying on the edge of the safe into the pouch and slung it over my shoulder.
"Blood Hound killed your Association Leader and your son, stole the money, and fled."
Jeong Yeo stared down at Blood Hound's corpse and swallowed hard.
I was certain of it.
Jeong Yeo would dispose of Blood Hound's body himself and relay the news to the other members of the association. Not because he valued his own life.
It was about the words I was about to speak—the very words that would irrevocably alter his fate. The words he had been hoping for as he waited outside, clinging to the slimmest possibility.
"From now on, you are the new Association Leader of the Yang Association."