Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Following the Yangtze's Currents (2)
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A vast bridge of ice stretched across the Yangtze's waterway, as if the blood of hundreds had frozen solid.
The boatmen of the Yangtze Waterway Stronghold, who had been lounging through their usual lazy day, instinctively froze at the superhuman spectacle that unfolded in an instant. It was a sensation that stole their breath away.
Who on earth could unleash such overwhelming chill?
Not even a master of ice arts could perform a feat like this.
Stronghold Leader Jang Seokhyeon, who had sensed the anomaly faster than anyone and rushed onto the deck, could only stare at the frozen Yangtze in stunned silence.
And into his eyes reflected a single man.
A figure walking silently across the ice bridge, trailing an aura like white frost.
The sight sent chills down Jang Seokhyeon's spine, a man who had spent his entire life in the shadows of the underworld.
'Is that bastard behind all this?'
Snow-white skin and long, dangling hair. He gripped a sword in one hand, his gaze fixed straight ahead as he strode forward with steady steps.
But what sent true goosebumps crawling over his skin was the man's faintly reddish eyes.
Those pupils reflected nothing, harboring a chilling void that made Jang Seokhyeon half-convinced, for a split second, that this was a messenger from the afterlife come to settle his karmic debts—a dead soul.
If he had to describe it... yes, the Blood Demon itself.
Could this be some demon from the underworld sent to slaughter them?
All the boatmen, lost in a daze as they stared at him, shared the same thought.
'No, that's definitely a living human. Calm down. One wrong move, and our heads will roll.'
Only the stronghold leader, seasoned through countless trials and tribulations, began to grasp the situation.
He analyzed it coolly. The man hadn't butchered his subordinates yet, so he clearly had no immediate intent to wipe them out.
That meant he wanted something.
The question was whether this guy was open to talk.
Was it even feasible to speak to a man who had frozen the Yangtze in a heartbeat, looking like a ghost with a sword in hand, marching straight toward them?
Any normal person would flee or hide. But he was the leader of the Yangtze Waterway Stronghold. If he didn't step up, his men might all die.
With a do-or-die resolve, he stood tall on the deck and bellowed.
"I've seen your power! I am Jang Seokhyeon, leader of the Yangtze Waterway Stronghold! If you've come to talk, please come aboard!"
The man on the ice didn't so much as twitch at his booming voice. Just as Jang Seokhyeon thought it had failed, something caught his eye.
The man's eyes were unfocused.
Not because he was a ghost, surely—but overwhelmed by that bone-chilling cold aura.
Left alone, he'd fall into qi deviation or lose his reason for a good while, the leader figured. His chosen response was utterly rational.
'Run.'
He quietly ordered his men to turn the boat around. Provoking the monster now might snap him out of it, leading to total annihilation.
It was the most logical choice, the best move in that moment.
But he had overlooked one thing.
Thud.
Despite his lost reason, the man before him advanced straight toward him without hesitation.
Thud.
The footsteps grew steadily closer.
Tap.
As he issued orders, Jang Seokhyeon had glanced away for a moment. The short, crisp sound of a footfall made him whip around.
In that instant, a blade wreathed in frigid killing intent hurtled toward his neck.
Whoosh!
"Damn it."
If he'd turned just a half-beat slower, his head would be rolling on the deck.
The fact that he'd nearly died. Even for a man who'd wielded a blade for decades, it was a sensation he'd never get used to.
Forcing down his trembling legs gripped by terror, he swiftly put distance between them and drew his sword.
"Fine. Even if today is my last, I'll take you down with me to soothe my soul."
In stark contrast to the overwhelming killing intent radiating from the man, Jang Seokhyeon sensed no presence from him at all.
Only that immense chill, enough to freeze the entire boat—and the whole Yangtze along with it.
The man before him felt less like a living human and more like the chill itself taking human form.
"Is he really some kind of specter?"
Terror made his flesh crawl, his sword tip wavering. But the leader was no novice; he'd rolled in these circles for years.
He knew a trick or two to conquer fear.
Circulating his inner energy from his dantian, he spread it through his body.
Then, in a flash, he gathered it all into his feet and slammed down onto the deck with all his might.
Boom!
The massive boat tilted halfway from the blow. Seizing the high ground, the leader's eyes hardened with resolve.
This was his standard tactic before facing a strong foe.
No matter how mighty the opponent, fighting at full power on a rocking ship was tough. But for him, versed in water arts, this was familiar territory.
His sword flashed, launching a strike at the specter-like man.
Clang!
Even on the pitching deck, the man maintained a serene calm like still waters and parried the blow effortlessly.
But that was within expectations.
The leader quickly prepared his next move.
Gripping his blade with practiced ease, he thrust at the man's legs.
True to his veteran instincts, he bet the berserk man couldn't handle complex maneuvers.
Whoosh.
And as if his hunch was spot-on, the man leaped back lightly, evading the blade.
On flat ground, his feet would have touched down immediately. But on the already-tilted deck, they didn't.
The man's body hung in midair, and the leader didn't miss the opening.
'A simple swing would be blocked easily. So instead...'
He poured everything into a single-point thrust. Airborne, there was no dodging it.
Crack.
But such attacks were child's play to the man; he didn't even need to evade.
The pinnacle realm, unreachable by mere mortals without innate qi sense. For one who had attained it, the chill was more than a mere weapon.
The sword flying at his throat halted against a sudden wall of frost, freezing solid on the spot.
"Could this be... sword aura!?"
The leader had doubted amid the overwhelming cold, but dismissed it as nerves.
Sword aura users were rarer than hen's teeth across the world, and he knew every name worth knowing—fewer than ten fingers' worth.
Yet his uneasy premonitions had never been wrong.
A pinnacle master wielding unheard-of frost. Where the hell did this freak come from?
If it was karma from his sins manifesting like this, he'd happily quit banditry right then, hole up in the mountains, and live out his days tending a garden.
He desperately wanted to, but such thoughts were useless now.
His only task: survive the man thrusting his sword at him.
That was it.
The leader wasn't a martial prodigy. He'd risen through seasoned judgment forged by time and decades of hard-earned experience in the jianghu.
Like Yi Sowol in his past life, his unorthodox arts hit a wall. Without profound insights, breaking into the pinnacle required monstrous talent.
The genius to overhaul his entire martial foundation—reserved for grandmasters by birth.
He'd known from the start, facing that wall with shadow path arts, that he was no ordinary man but could never join the monsters' ranks.
But realms didn't decide everything. No sword aura? He had his weapons.
Slash.
Against the monster before him, he unleashed every trick at his disposal.
No void-stepping techniques, but he danced across the rocking deck like it was his playground.
No elite sect arts like the Five Greats, but he could feint with his blade tip just fine.
He dodged attacks, relentlessly probing gaps, waiting for the foe's energy to flag.
Crack!
After dozens of tireless strikes, as his sword nearly grazed the man, sword aura blocked it again.
But no monster could halt a midair blade forever.
That frost would run dry soon.
"L-Leader!"
His men approached, but the vast gap in skill kept them from intervening.
"Stay back!"
He blocked his men from aiding him. He knew numbers meant nothing against this beast.
He didn't want to drag them to their deaths needlessly.
Whoosh.
It was then.
As he turned reflexively to stop his rushing subordinates, the man seized that fleeting moment.
A blade cloaked in razor-sharp frost closed in on his face.
Far too late to dodge.
'This is it.'
Facing death, he squeezed his eyes shut.
But oddly, his head didn't fall. The chill vanished, leaving only the blade's edge.
Realizing he lived, he opened his eyes and finally faced the Sword Dragon Yi Sowol properly.
"...Where am I?"
He sensed it instinctively. The man's reason had fully returned.
"I see."
But contrary to expectations of sheathing the sword, Yi Sowol kept it at his throat and slowly surveyed the surroundings.
Unlike his prior ghostly pallor, he now brimmed with vitality—making him all the more eerie.
Before, a rampaging beast sans reason; now, a cold, calculating assassin.
Yi Sowol finished assessing and finally withdrew his blade.
"Sorry about that. Seems I lost my senses for a moment."
The leader's face lit up. For that instant—like standing at hell's gate—the end was in sight.
He'd endured, betting his life without respite, through time when death could come any second.
"Then now..."
"Now, let's finish our interrupted duel."
Yi Sowol cut off the leader's conciliatory words with icy finality, resuming his stance for battle.
"No, wait, hold on—why does it end like this??"
It seemed the leader's ordeal was far from over.