I Said I’d Cut That Neck Clean Off (3)
“……Runt?”
The sliced-open skin of his face burned beyond words.
But more infuriating than the pain of the wound was Chung Myung’s one sentence.
Runt?
Who exactly was calling whom a runt right now?
“You… son of a bitch!”
With his eyes turned red, Seol Cheon-sang finally threw dignity to the wind.
He had always tried to maintain the bearing befitting the Palace Lord of the Ice Palace, but one remark from that young brat had completely overturned his reason.
From the start, it had been hard enough to keep his wits about him with that Central Plains bastard standing there in one piece before him. In the midst of a rage that whitened the world before his eyes, he roared like boiling water.
“Haaahhhh!”
White, bone-chilling force erupted in torrents from both his hands.
Crack!
The overwhelming cold froze even the snow beneath his feet. Laden with that same frigid energy, the force surged toward the field of Maehwageomgi flooding the front.
Kwoooooom!
It was like watching an avalanche bury a flower garden.
The scene was so grand and terrifying it was hard to believe such force and sword aura could come from human beings at all.
BOOOOOOM!
Then came a massive explosion, and flowers and snow scattered in all directions.
“Guh!”
“Move—move!”
The Ice Palace warriors who had rushed in to protect the Palace Lord were thrown into panic by the fragments of sword qi and force bursting out around them, and reflexively hurled themselves backward.
A moment later, as the shock settled, Chung Myung stood there with his sword hanging low, gazing at Seol Cheon-sang with cold eyes.
On the other hand, Seol Cheon-sang—who should have been nothing but frost itself—glared back at him with rage like molten lava.
Slowly, Seol Cheon-sang ran a hand over the long slash across his face.
Each time the throbbing pain hit him, his expression twisted into something vile and monstrous.
“You said you’d end this quickly?”
The sound of his grinding teeth leaked out between his words like an ugly refrain.
“How dare someone like you?!”
Thud!
He stamped his foot down in a true-combat stance. The frozen ground split with a crackling groan.
“You think you can face me with only that level of skill?”
Yet even in the face of that terrifying momentum, the corner of Chung Myung’s mouth twisted with contempt.
“That’s why you’re a runt.”
Of course, from Seol Cheon-sang’s point of view, there was no other way to see it.
In his eyes, Chung Myung was absolutely not stronger than him. Objectively speaking, anyone comparing their martial prowess would have to side with Seol Cheon-sang over Chung Myung.
Just because he had usurped the Ice Palace Lord’s seat through disgraceful means didn’t mean Seol Cheon-sang lacked skill. If he had, then no matter how much support he had from the Demonic Sect, he wouldn’t have been able to hold the Ice Palace in his grasp until now.
But only up to that point.
That was the biggest mistake youngsters made: believing that the outcome of a fight would follow skill alone.
“But I’ll give you one piece of advice first.”
Chung Myung gave Seol Cheon-sang a mocking look and spat the words out.
“This isn’t a spar.”
And then, all at once, Chung Myung’s body shot forward like lightning toward Seol Cheon-sang.
Clang!
The tips of Seol Cheon-sang’s fingers trembled violently as he blocked the sword right in front of his face.
Crack, crack, crack.
The skin that had become harder than iron through the extreme refinement of his yin-cold internal energy was being shaved away.
What… what on earth is this sword?
The sword qi wrapped around it was frightening enough, but the killing intent was no less extraordinary. It was a sharpness Seol Cheon-sang had never experienced in his life.
Drip, drip.
Blood leaked from his palm, ran along the pure white blade, and began staining the snow beneath in little drops.
“You—!”
Even after seeing that, Seol Cheon-sang didn’t try to push the sword away; instead, he clamped his hand down harder. No—he tried to.
But just as he gathered strength, the blade in his grasp spun abruptly and slipped free after slicing open his palm.
Seol Cheon-sang flinched.
Had he been caught off guard?
No. That wasn’t it.
Chung Myung had cut off what he was about to do one step ahead. Which meant the next move couldn’t come out in time.
“You little bastard!”
Seol Cheon-sang yanked his unharmed left hand back.
But at that very instant—
Fwoooooosh!
Dozens of sword images burst from Chung Myung’s blade and shot at Seol Cheon-sang’s left elbow all at once. Horrified by the momentum, Seol Cheon-sang didn’t even dare stretch his arm out and instead leaped backward in alarm.
But Chung Myung was not the sort to let an opponent retreat so easily.
Unleashing his full speed, he launched himself like a hawk toward the withdrawing Seol Cheon-sang. His cold gaze held no emotion at all, fixed solely on the enemy’s throat.
Meeting that look, Seol Cheon-sang’s face stiffened with a dreadful chill, as if his heart had frozen at once.
Whoosh!
Chung Myung flew in fast and, with his body bent low, cut horizontally across the foot Seol Cheon-sang had thrust out while trying to lean forward. Seol Cheon-sang quickly pulled his leg back, but he couldn’t avoid having the front of his ankle sliced slightly.
And then—
Whirl.
Using the momentum of his charge, Chung Myung spun once in the air and brought the rebound down on Seol Cheon-sang with all of it.
BOOOOOOM!
It was the same sort of strike as before.
But the result was entirely different. Seol Cheon-sang, his balance lost from retreating, couldn’t possibly deflect the same downward blow a second time.
Thud!
His body rolled across the snow.
“P-Palace Lord!”
“M-My heavens, the Palace Lord!”
Those watching from afar were stunned into silence.
Who was Seol Cheon-sang?
He was a man who had already been renowned as the greatest master of the North Sea even before ascending to the position of Palace Lord.
Although he had not learned the secret martial arts that only a Palace Lord could master, and thus could not be compared to the previous lord, when it came to sheer talent in martial arts alone, Seol Cheon-sang had actually surpassed his predecessor.
Now that he had presumably also mastered the Ice Palace Lord’s secret techniques, he should have been beyond question the strongest expert in the Ice Palace.
And yet here he was, not merely being pushed back, but rolling on the ground under the one-sided assault of a young martial artist from the Central Plains. It was only natural that those who followed him were dumbstruck.
“Tch.”
Seol Cheon-sang got back up at once and took a defensive stance. Chung Myung slowly lowered the foot he had been about to kick off the ground and laughed.
“At least you’re not completely stupid.”
If Seol Cheon-sang had hesitated even a little longer, Chung Myung would have rushed in instantly and driven his sword into his throat. Seol Cheon-sang knew that too, which was why he had rolled to reset his posture even at the cost of looking disgraceful.
…What exactly are you?
Seol Cheon-sang’s eyes trembled with mounting shock.
This wasn’t a matter of being strong or weak.
It wasn’t that Chung Myung’s incredible sword qi had smashed apart his force, nor that some unbelievable speed had simply toyed with him.
Rather, every time Seol Cheon-sang tried to do something, Chung Myung’s sword was always there one beat ahead, seizing the line of his intended move before it even formed. No matter how keen one’s eyes or senses were, no human could read another person’s mind—so how in the world was this possible?
He was stronger. Seol Cheon-sang was clearly stronger.
Then why had he been the one rolling across the ground?
Why?
“Pathetic.”
At Chung Myung’s mocking voice, Seol Cheon-sang’s body trembled.
“You…!”
“I’m not talking about you.”
But Chung Myung only gave a bitter smile, his face oddly twisted.
It was a terribly complicated feeling.
If this had been the old Chung Myung, that bastard’s head would have been off in less than three seconds.
The frustration of knowing what to do but being unable to carry it out with his body made his insides churn.
And at the same time—
The world has grown weaker.
The former Ice Palace Lord had been far stronger than that bastard could ever hope to be compared with.
Which, really, was only natural.
Just as Mount Hua, having lost every Cheong-generation and Baek-generation disciple, had fallen and lost its martial foundations, so too had the other sects lost the masters who should have led their schools and passed down their arts.
Those who survived may have struggled desperately to rebuild, but it would have been impossible to perfectly restore all the scars left by the war with the Demonic Sect.
The number of experts might have been roughly comparable to the past, but in quality, they could not even be compared.
It wasn’t just the Ice Palace.
The same went for other sects, including the Tang Clan.
And besides, hadn’t everyone lived wrapped in peace for a long while after the war?
Ridiculous.
So the peace he had staked his life to create had taken away these people’s ferocity.
Swish.
Chung Myung gave his sword a light shake and raised it. The sharp tip gleamed white in the sunlight.
“Tch!”
When one fighter specialized in palms and the other in the sword, the deciding factor was distance. A practitioner of fists and kicks always tried to close in on the opponent.
But now the situation had reversed.
Judging that closing in on Chung Myung was far too dangerous, Seol Cheon-sang sprang backward and swung both hands rapidly. Along the tips of his fingers, the white, bone-freezing yin-cold energy of his internal technique began to seep out like frost.
Crack, crack.
Even before the force reached him, the sound itself stabbed into the air first.
The surroundings were freezing over rapidly. The yin-cold internal energy that the North Sea Ice Palace prided itself on was finally beginning to display its true power.
Seol Cheon-sang brought both hands together before his chest, then thrust them forward in one motion.
“Dieeeee!”
With the momentum to freeze everything it touched, the pure white force shot straight at Chung Myung.
Ice White Divine Palm.
It was the Ice Palace Lord’s signature technique, and the greatest martial art of the Ice Palace—so famous that even the Central Plains knew its name.
The air around them swirled with a cold so sharp it felt like it could slice flesh.
Anything alive before it seemed as though it would be frozen into a miserable ruin.
But Chung Myung’s gaze did not waver even as he watched the Ice White Divine Palm fly at him.
Shhhk.
His sword slowly cut across the air. From the pure white blade tip, strands of sword qi began to burst forth, red as blood.
The red sword qi formed the shape of plum blossoms.
It was as though spring, melting the ice, was causing plum blossoms to bloom across a thousand mountains.
Blooming.
And also stirring to life.
No matter how brutal the north wind or how bitter the snow, the plum blossom endured and endured until at last it brought forth red life.
The Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art, the Plum Blossom in Full Bloom technique, emerged in perfect form from the tip of Chung Myung’s sword.
Even now, the endlessly blossoming plum flowers surged like waves rolling forward.
The massive white avalanche and the red sea of plum blossoms collided in midair.
BOOOOOOM!
With an explosion like it was tearing the eardrums apart, Chung Myung’s body staggered. In pure internal force, the Palace Lord definitely held the advantage.
But Chung Myung did not retreat. On the contrary, he took a step forward.
Riiip.
The tremendous pressure tore the shoulder of his robe to shreds. His shoulder, frozen by the Ice White Divine Palm’s cold, instantly began turning deathly blue.
Step.
But Chung Myung’s sword did not stop. Even as the flesh on his shoulder blackened and blood poured in streams from his nose, his eyes gleamed even brighter than before.
Step.
One step. Then another.
His stride grew faster and faster. The closer he came, the more violently the pressure bore down, and the louder the body’s screams became in response. But Chung Myung simply kept moving forward.
Then—
Fwoooooosh!
His body plunged straight through the center where the Maehwageomgi and yin-cold internal energy were colliding.
Slash! Slash!
The sword qi he himself had unleashed sliced back at his own body, but Chung Myung didn’t even blink. Even as the sword qi cut him and fragments of force battered his back, he spewed blood from nose and mouth and charged in a straight line.
“Kuh!”
A groan he could no longer suppress escaped Seol Cheon-sang’s mouth as he kept pouring out force.
That bizarre sword art was not being pushed back even against the force of the Ice White Divine Palm that he had thrown out with all the internal energy he possessed. Every time he thought he had crushed it, a new sword qi surged up; every time he thought he had suppressed it, another bloom rose from within it.
But that’s all it is!
His internal energy was still clearly superior.
Sure enough, the fiercely resisting Maehwageomgi began to yield under his force bit by bit.
“You brat! Right here, right now—”
That was when it happened.
Fwoooooosh!
A ghastly sound of cutting air stabbed into his ears. And from within the white-drenched force of the Ice White Divine Palm before him, something red and black shot out like a cannonball.
What?!
In a situation he had never even imagined, Seol Cheon-sang was so shocked his heart nearly dropped through the floor.
Fwoooooosh!
The one who emerged was Chung Myung, having taken the Ice White Divine Palm directly with his body.
In an instant, he reached Seol Cheon-sang’s front and whipped his sword upward like a streak of light.
Slash!
Blood sprayed along the path of the blade’s movement.
A moment later, a long cut split Seol Cheon-sang’s chest from the lower left to the upper right.
“Kuh….”
It was an injury anyone could see was grave.
But Seol Cheon-sang did not collapse from that alone.
CRASH!
Ignoring the deep wound gaping so far open that bone showed through, he slammed force into Chung Myung’s leg.
Chung Myung’s leg wavered and buckled.
CRASH!
And then once more, Seol Cheon-sang’s right fist, wrapped in yin energy, drove into Chung Myung’s solar plexus.
Grk-grk.
Chung Myung’s foot, which had been planted hard into the ground, was dragged backward and shoved away. At the same time, fresh blood surged from Chung Myung’s mouth.
“Dieeeee!”
Seol Cheon-sang’s final strike, with every last shred of his strength, landed squarely on Chung Myung’s right shoulder.
The force infused with the mysteries of the Ice White Divine Palm hammered Chung Myung’s right shoulder over and over.
Chung Myung’s body twisted backward. In that instant, the sword in his hand spun up into the air.
Exultation flooded Seol Cheon-sang’s eyes.
For a swordsman, losing the sword meant only one thing: death!
I’ve won…!
And then, in that very instant—
Grab.
Chung Myung’s hand shot up and seized the middle of the blade of the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword as it spun in the air.
Slash!
The razor edge cut without mercy even the hand of its own master. And yet the hand that caught the blade reversed its grip and clamped down even tighter.
What?
And then—
Kwadeudeudeuk!
Without even turning around, Chung Myung drove the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword backward, piercing Seol Cheon-sang’s solar plexus.
“…….”
A calm voice spilled into Seol Cheon-sang’s ears as he stared blankly at the sword that had driven into his stomach.
“On the battlefield….”
“…….”
“The moment you let your guard down, you die, runt.”
Chung Myung’s cold smile was etched into Seol Cheon-sang’s collapsing eyes.