Senior Brother! The Voices in My Head Won’t Stop! (5)
It was, indeed, a display of swift swordsmanship.
One moment there was a flash; the next, after crossing a full stride’s distance, the blade was already almost touching his throat. The water bandit leading the charge went pale and jerked his neck back in terror.
Sssst!
With a nauseating sound, as though flesh were being shaved away by a razor, a strip of skin was cut from his throat.
More than the sharp pain at his neck, what hit him first was relief—relief that he had managed to avoid that sword. But it came far too early.
Clack!
The instant he heard a sound like a viper flicking its tongue, he instinctively rolled his body to the side.
“Ghk!”
Even that reaction was too slow, because a burning pain seared across his neck once more.
The sword he had barely evaded was pulled back in a flash and raked across his throat again.
Clatter-clatter-clatter!
The narrow blade danced with the agility of a venomous snake, biting into the body that tried to retreat.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
He was cut everywhere, and in an instant his entire body was covered in blood.
The sword that had sliced through his thigh and flank almost at the same time knocked aside the spear he raised in resistance, then surged straight toward his chest.
The water bandit instinctively knew death was upon him. He widened his eyes just then—
Clang!
A throwing spear hurled from behind struck Chung Myung’s sword aside.
I-I’m alive…
Whoosh!
But the rebounding black plum sword shot out again.
Whoosh!
The throwing spear barely managed to knock back the sword once more as it flashed in like a bolt of lightning, but the more it did, the faster the sword seemed to come.
“Ngh!”
A choked groan burst from his lips. A spear bristling with fierce momentum hurriedly blocked the sword’s path.
But then—
Spin.
The sword that had been flying in at terrifying speed suddenly slowed, then spun right in front of the spear and veered away.
What?
Thud!
“…….”
The water bandit stood there, mouth hanging open, staring blankly at the sword embedded in his chest.
Impossible…
He had thoughts. So many of them. He had things he wanted to say. But once a man’s breathing is cut off, none of it can follow through.
“You—”
Watching his comrade’s life snuffed out before their eyes, the surrounding water bandits flushed a deep, furious red. The face of the one who had blocked Chung Myung’s sword for him was especially twisted, ghastly in its ruin.
“Why?” Chung Myung asked, his lips curling.
“Water bandits, and you’ve got comradeship?”
“You sick bastard!”
The bandit ground his teeth as though he might spring forward at any second, but for all his savage expression and hateful voice, his feet did not move an inch.
That single strike was still burned into his mind—the sword that had darted in like lightning, only to suddenly slow and swing around the spear’s shaft.
It was easy to say, but impossible to do.
Stopping a sword mid-thrust after driving it forward with full strength took several times more power than simply stabbing. And to then transform that halted sword from speed into softness, using the spear as a path to curve around it? That was several times harder still.
That one unbelievable move alone was enough to show them exactly what sort of absurd sword demon stood before them.
And on top of that…
He looked shamelessly frivolous on the surface, but there was no warmth at all in the hand that swung that sword. The cold-bloodedness with which he pierced hearts in an instant was, in truth, the mark of a butcher.
Even a man who had spent his whole life as a water bandit and killed more people than most could ever imagine did not slaughter others with such hesitation-free efficiency.
That bastard cannot be handled alone.
His comrades seemed to think the same, because they exchanged brief glances.
The ones gathered here were the best fighting force in this water bandit stronghold. Each one had the skill to lead his own band and go raiding on his own.
If even they could not stop this man, no one could imagine how far the damage would spread.
“We have to kill him here, no matter what!”
Hearing that solemn cry, Chung Myung couldn’t help but snort.
“You lot?”
“You—”
“A water bandit calling me names. The world really has gotten better, hasn’t it? Now even bastards like you can run your mouths in front of me.”
In the old days, it would have been unthinkable.
“Fine.”
Chung Myung grinned.
“I’ll just make it that way again!”
“He’s coming!”
The moment Chung Myung lunged like a tiger after prey, the water bandits gritted their teeth and raised their weapons.
Hold him first.
Charging straight in to attack was brave enough in its own way, but this was no time for bravery.
The other man’s sword was so bizarrely unpredictable that “monstrous” was the only word for it. If they tried to meet it head-on carelessly, they would die without even knowing how their throats had been cut.
You bastard. Do you think we’ve lived on Jianghu rice for just a day or two?
If flashy swordsmanship were truly the best, then the entire Jianghu would already have been consumed by such swords. The reason those kinds of swords were rarely seen was simple: techniques that looked brilliant on the outside often lacked substance within.
If they blocked carefully, step by step, the opening would surely appear. And the spear in their hands was the perfect weapon for piercing that opening.
Just once! We only need one opening!
With that same thought in mind, they all moved to meet Chung Myung’s sword.
A shower of red plum blossoms suddenly burst into bloom and rained down over their heads.
“Kuh!”
Ordinary water bandits would have been unable to withstand even that and would already have been spitting blood, but these men were, in their own way, the cream of the crop here. In truth, they were the elite of the Janggang Waterway, one of the Five Hegemons of the Jianghu. If they had collapsed at the single swing of a sword, they would not have been worthy of calling themselves by the name Janggang Waterway at all.
Clang-clang-clang!
As the flying plum blossom sword qi and the spears collided, a grating metallic shriek rang out. To the eye it looked as delicate as falling petals, but the force packed into each strand of sword qi was anything but negligible.
Is he a monster?
If he could not be ignored, that meant he was not necessarily overwhelmingly threatening. But the problem was that Chung Myung was not producing just one or two threads of sword qi. Was it even sane for hundreds of sword qi strikes unleashed at once to each carry that kind of power?
And the number of falling petals kept increasing.
Like rain. Or a waterfall.
If we hold on…
The muscles in the arm gripping the spear bulged as if they were about to burst. From wrist to elbow, the limb shook violently, as though it had been struck by lightning.
Hold on…
But no matter how hard they endured, the number of petals striking the spear did not decrease; it only increased. What had been a gentle drizzle of petals now hammered down like a storm.
Ghk…
The wrist twisted. The dantian began to churn like a shaken pond.
A water droplet was worthless on its own, but countless droplets gathered together formed streams, then rivers. In the same way, while each petal might not have been especially powerful, the force created when hundreds or thousands came together was terrifying.
Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Art: Fallen Plum, Rain Made.
Unable to endure the rain of plum blossoms any longer, the water bandits began to scramble backward in panic. They finally realized that if they kept trying to stand here, they would only be shredded to death by that blooming storm.
But that was exactly what Chung Myung had wanted.
“Haaah!”
The water bandit who was retreating in a hurry, forcing out his qi with all his strength, widened his eyes.
Between the raining plum blossoms, a brilliant flash of light suddenly burst forth, and a burning pain like a branding iron seared across his chest.
“……Kruk.”
Seven Plum Blossoms Sword: Plum Blossom Flash.
His knees gave out, and his vision began to blur. It was not hard to understand what had happened to him.
Death.
Unavoidable death was coming for him.
Chung Myung looked down at him with indifferent eyes.
He was dying, but he would hardly be lonely. The screams of his comrades, still sharp enough to be heard by ears not yet deadened, were ringing all around him.
Whether water bandits truly had loyalty among themselves was debatable, but since he was going to hell together with the people he had lived and died beside, he might as well be happy about it.
Thud.
Thud.
At the same time, three men—or rather, three corpses now—collapsed to the ground.
The rain of plum blossoms had now vanished without a trace, leaving only the thick, clinging smell of blood behind.
The scene, more unreal than any illusion, left the faint scent of plum blossoms at the tip of the nose—an aroma that should never have lingered here.
Meanwhile, cold sweat poured down the back of Toujaryong.
He was acknowledged as one of the strongest men in this water stronghold, ranked among the top five at the very least. And yet, he had no idea how to even begin interpreting what had just happened before his eyes.
All that was certain was that the opponent before him was a master on a level he had never faced before.
S-so this is Mount Hua Divine Dragon…
He had never introduced himself by that name, but anyone who wasn’t an idiot would know who he was.
Not even half the rumors did him justice?
Of course, he had assumed the stories were exaggerated in the usual self-important way of righteous sects. That was what those sanctimonious bastards did—whenever a decent junior appeared, they called him a dragon or a phoenix and treated him like a once-in-a-thousand-years prodigy.
But this one was different.
Unlike those half-baked frauds who only had a reputation on paper and could not produce even half of it in an actual fight, this bastard was the real thing. In the truest sense of the word, he was a sword demon.
“No need to worry.”
At that moment, a light voice cut into their ears.
Chung Myung was grinning, flashing his white teeth.
“I’ll kill every last one of you. The only question is who dies first.”
He had never once been afraid of a threat.
But those words were enough to freeze the heart.
The reason was simple. They were not empty bluster or a mere intimidation tactic. He was simply telling them exactly what he was thinking, with not a trace of exaggeration.
Ch-chieftain.
Toujaryong, who had already decided this was not an enemy they could afford to face, tried to glance sideways for an instant, but his eyes snapped back to Chung Myung. Turning your gaze away in front of a master like this was no different from begging to have your throat cut.
“Hmm. Then… who—”
Just then, Chung Myung stopped mid-sentence and abruptly spun around to look behind him.
Seeing that, Toujaryong bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
To turn away from an enemy standing before you was unthinkable. It was reckless beyond reason, the height of carelessness.
And yet he could not charge.
His blood boiled at the utter contempt, his organs twisted in fury—but even so, he could not bring himself to strike the openly exposed back, let alone punish the enemy for such arrogance.
The gap between them. Chung Myung’s sword had already shattered every shred of their fighting spirit.
“Y-you…!”
Then a voice mixed with irritation and mischief burst from Chung Myung’s mouth.
“Hey! You Sajjik and Saho bastards! You can’t even handle one damn thing? Damn it!”
He actually whirled around and started running back the way he had come.
“…….”
The enemy was suddenly moving farther away before their eyes. The man they absolutely had to catch and kill was now showing them his back and retreating.
But Toujaryong could do nothing about it. He couldn’t even give chase; he could only drive his spear into the ground and use it to steady his swaying body. His hair, soaked through with cold sweat, stuck to his face.
“Sh-shouldn’t we pursue him?”
At his subordinate’s question, Toujaryong’s lips finally split open as he clenched his jaw, and blood trickled down.
“……We need to bring everyone and fight him together. None of you can handle this alone.”
Strictly speaking, it should have been “none of us,” but the fact that he did not say it aloud was the last shred of his pride. Pride so thoroughly shattered that it was now difficult even to recognize its shape.
“Bring cannon, gunpowder—anything! Get it all!”
“B-but that’s—”
“Do as you’re told! I’ll take responsibility! If we can kill that bastard, I don’t care what it takes.”
“Yes, sir!”
Toujaryong watched the water bandits run off at full speed for a moment, then looked down at his own hands. Seeing them tremble like aspen leaves brought an unbearable wave of rage crashing over him.
Damn it…
Something beyond the power of human beings is called a dragon.
It was a truth he had spent his entire life revering the dragons of the Yangtze River without ever truly understanding—until now.
