They’ll Handle It Themselves (4)
"Watch out!"
Anyone who saw the red sword aura flying straight at them had only two choices: step back, or block it.
Too late...
One of the Changgui Squad members, realizing there was no way to dodge, poured all his inner power into his dao and swung down at the blade of light.
Crkakakakakak!
The sword aura, packed with dense inner power, slammed into the dao. A shrill, grinding screech of metal tearing against metal stabbed into the ears.
"Tch!"
A violent shock surged up through his wrist.
It was proof that the force behind that strike was no laughing matter. And yet, instead of fear, the Changgui Squad member felt a surge of fighting spirit.
Stronger than I expected...!
It was impressive enough that a sword aura sent from that thin little blade could be this heavy, but considering the reputation of the Mount Hua Divine Dragon, this was only natural. If it had been weaker than this, that would have been the strange thing.
What mattered was not whether it was hard to block, but that it could be blocked somehow. If he could stop the sword aura, then he could fight back!
"That’s all—"
Gaining confidence, the Changgui Squad member raised his head and was just about to shout when something white flashed into his field of vision and bore straight for the open mouth he’d inadvertently left unguarded.
Clang!
The sword, swift as lightning, slipped through the gap between his teeth like a viper striking through an opening jaw. The sharp edge scraped along his teeth, split his tongue, and bit into the base of his throat.
N-no...
Thwack!
A chilling sound rang out, and then there was a brief silence.
The body, suddenly robbed of all strength, went limp at once.
Those who had frozen in place—unable either to flee or to charge—stared in blank horror at the blade jutting out from the side of their comrade’s neck.
Drip.
A drop of blood slid down the white blade and fell onto the pale sand.
It was a strange thing.
They had seen death plenty of times. Whether it was the death of an enemy or a comrade, death was not especially noteworthy to the people here.
But the death they were witnessing now felt different from any they had ever seen. It was difficult to explain exactly how it differed, but their hearts, cooling as if doused with ice water, were warning them clearly enough. This was not the same kind of death.
Cheong Myeong yanked the sword free from the enemy’s mouth and kicked off the sand, lunging forward.
"St-stop him!"
"Kill him!"
Panic so intense it felt like their hearts were about to burst seized the Changgui Squad. But they were Maninbang. Retreating before an enemy was unthinkable.
So the Changgui Squad, driven mad, rushed Cheong Myeong instead. Blue energy gushed in streams from the dao and swords they had drawn.
Whoooosh!
In an instant, more than ten sword auras and dao qi rained down over Cheong Myeong’s head like a storm.
At that moment, Cheong Myeong dropped his stance almost to the ground. Flattening himself low, he shot forward like a snake slithering through undergrowth.
BOOM! BOOM BOOM BOOM!
One by one, the dao qi that had narrowly missed his toes slammed into the ground. Cheong Myeong threw himself into the storm exploding behind him and kicked off the earth harder, accelerating even more.
One of the Changgui Squad members seized the opening and rushed toward the speeding Cheong Myeong. He intended to close the distance in a single breath.
They, who had survived countless battles, understood instinctively that sometimes charging forward was the only way to live. Once you lost momentum, the results could not be undone.
Swish!
It was an exceptionally fast and direct dao strike.
No wasted movement, no unnecessary flourish. It was a practical, battle-hardened technique meant to kill an opponent outright if possible, but in any case never to leave a large opening.
The purest killing intent came down toward Cheong Myeong’s head, which had not yet even fully risen.
Die!
It was, by all accounts, the correct response.
Unfortunately for them, their opponent was Cheong Myeong.
Thud!
Cheong Myeong suddenly planted his sword into the sand.
And then, as if the terrifying speed had all been an illusion, his body came to an abrupt stop right there.
Swish!
The dao that should have split Cheong Myeong’s head apart uselessly carved through empty air and stabbed into the sand. In the eyes of the man who had swung it, Cheong Myeong’s smile, bared full of teeth, shone with a brightness that hurt to look at.
Flash!
The Plum Blossom Sword, bent like a suddenly drawn bowstring, burst upward and drove straight through the Changgui Squad member’s abdomen.
Thunk!
Cold steel pierced his stomach. But before he could even tremble at the sensation, the blade thrashed inside him like a carp set loose in water, tearing through his insides with merciless violence.
"Aaaaargh!"
An unbearable scream tore out of him as his organs were shredded to pieces. It wasn’t just the pain of flesh being cut open. The chilling inner power that had invaded his body crushed his cultivation and seemed to rake through his nerves one by one. It felt as if every nerve in his body were being severed all at once.
And at that very moment, Cheong Myeong’s eyes flashed, and he pulled back without the slightest hesitation.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Blades burst out one after another from the body of the Changgui Squad member who had been screaming. The blades that had pierced through him stopped just short of Cheong Myeong’s face.
Blood clinging to the tips of those blades splattered across Cheong Myeong’s cheek. Hot spray and a thick, fishy stench washed over him.
The Changgui Squad member, skewered like a spit roast by his own comrade’s blades, gaped helplessly as he shook in place.
But Cheong Myeong’s eyes held not the slightest hint of pity. This man, now impaled, would have done the same without hesitation—stabbed his sword into a comrade’s back—if the roles had been reversed.
Bang!
Cheong Myeong kicked the Changgui Squad member square in the chest.
The sharp blades embedded in his body instantly tore him apart. Shredded flesh and sprayed blood engulfed the people behind him.
"Hyaaaah!"
Even as their comrade’s remains rained down, not a single Changgui Squad member so much as blinked. Instead, they bellowed and rushed Cheong Myeong with even greater ferocity.
Cheong Myeong’s lips twisted, and he tightened his grip on his sword.
Flashflashflashflashflash!
Dozens of sword shadows bloomed like phantoms and sliced straight through the bodies of the charging Changgui Squad members.
"Kkh—!"
Before the cry of pain could even finish, Cheong Myeong surged forward like a demon and thrust his sword into the nearest man.
At that instant, hatred flared in the eyes of the Changgui Squad member standing in front of him. He discarded defense entirely and stabbed his own sword back toward Cheong Myeong’s throat.
Shhk!
One sword pierced his chest, while the other grazed the pure white throat by a hair’s breadth.
"Kraaaah!"
The Changgui Squad member whose chest had been pierced snarled murderously and swung the sword he still held sideways toward Cheong Myeong’s neck. Or rather, he tried to.
At that moment, Cheong Myeong snapped his elbow up, striking the arm of the man who was still gripping his sword, and then, with the blade still lodged in the Changgui Squad member’s chest, he kept charging forward all the same.
"Now!"
"Strike him!"
Cracked shouts burst from the mouths of those who saw it.
It was a gruesome sight, but if one thought it through, it was not a good move at all. Pulling a sword out of a human body always cost time. If they could exploit that opening, then even sticking a blade into that monster’s body would not be impossible.
"Y-you..."
And the one who had been pierced seemed to know exactly what his role was. As if he had given up on life, he let go of his own sword and clamped both hands around the sword buried in his chest, holding on with all his might.
Even if he died, he was determined to drag Cheong Myeong to hell with him.
The Changgui Squad members could not have let this opportunity slip. They threw themselves forward with everything they had.
But then an eerie sight unfolded before their eyes.
The back of the Changgui Squad member, who was being forced toward them while pierced through by the sword, suddenly began to bulge outward. No, it wasn’t his back that was swelling—it was the clothing stretched over it. But to their eyes, it looked exactly as though his back itself were expanding.
What?
The eyebrow of Jung Tak, one of those charging at Cheong Myeong, twitched. He had noticed that Cheong Myeong’s sword, trapped in the Changgui Squad member’s chest, was still moving ever so slightly. His face going pale, he shouted,
"M-move—!"
Before Jung Tak could finish, the Changgui Squad member’s clothes burst apart, and a crimson sword aura exploded outward with shocking force.
Dozens, hundreds of tiny petals.
Like the petals of plum blossoms in full bloom, the sword aura swept over them like a storm and engulfed them whole.
"Aaaaargh!"
"Aaaaaaaaargh!"
Wretched screams burst from those caught in the wave of plum blossoms. Small as petals but sharper than anything, the sword aura tore into their bodies again and again in the span of a single breath.
"Khuk..."
"Grrrk..."
What remained was nothing but the ragged breathing of those who had been mutilated beyond recognition.
Beom Chung, leader of the Changgui Squad, stared at the carnage before him in a daze.
It had been only one step.
All of this had happened because he had taken just one step back.
Because of that single mistake, nearly ten of his men had been slaughtered in an instant.
"You..."
With trembling eyes fixed on the sand, now stained a dark red with blood, Beom Chung forced his gaze upward. There stood Cheong Myeong, calm and composed... no, more precisely, there stood the Changgui Squad member he was holding by the hair, the one now staring at Beom Chung.
"L-leader..."
The man, still on his knees with his hair seized, was shaking like a leaf at the touch of the sword against his throat. He looked desperately at Beom Chung.
"P-please... s-save me..."
Beom Chung had trained every one of the Changgui Squad himself.
They were not the sort to tremble or cower, even if they found themselves face to face with a messenger from hell. And yet the man in Cheong Myeong’s grasp was terrified out of his wits.
What exactly was he afraid of? Death? Or...?
"I see..."
At that moment, Cheong Myeong, still gripping the man by the hair, opened his mouth and laughed. The sight of his white teeth flashing bright and clean was somehow more horrifying than any grimace could have been.
"This is definitely more my style."
Shhk!
Cheong Myeong’s sword sliced through the Changgui Squad member’s throat without the slightest hesitation.
Splaaash!
Bright red blood burst from the neatly severed neck in a fountain.
The blood that surged upward then came crashing down like a crimson rain. Watching Cheong Myeong smile strangely amid that bloodstorm, Beom Chung ground his teeth so hard it seemed they might shatter.
"You... you bastard..."
"No, no."
"...What?"
Cheong Myeong grinned.
"It’s not bastard. It’s bastards. That’d be more accurate."
At that, Beom Chung’s eyes darted away in alarm.
Ten-odd black streaks were already racing at terrifying speed toward the Changgui Squad, which had been sliced open and thrown into disarray by Cheong Myeong’s charge.
"Be careful. Those guys are even more vicious than I am."
Cheong Myeong gave the warning in a low voice, then laughed out loud.
Beom Chung’s blood ran cold.