You Started This Fight (3)
In the center of the scattering spray of blood, a sword honed to a terrifying edge split it cleanly in two. The black blade, tracing a razor-thin line through the air, sliced through the neck of the wide-mouthed bandit without the slightest hesitation.
Fwaaaang!
It was a perfect cut—so clean that there wasn’t even the faintest sense of resistance at Cheong Myeong’s fingertips.
The sight sent a chill straight into the hearts of the river bandits.
The righteous sects would never understand what they felt looking at that sword. Only those who had lived through it would know.
Those who had killed countless people knew better than anyone that killing a human being was never easy.
No matter how accustomed one became to murder, there was always the tiniest trace of hesitation when thrusting a blade toward a vital point. That was human instinct, not something willpower or resolve could simply erase.
But there was none of that in that man’s sword.
Even in the instant he cut off a man’s neck, there was not the slightest hesitation, not the smallest tremor.
A sword that could only belong to a demon that had slain untold people with its blade.
Bandits who understood, through experience, what sort of existence could wield such a sword could do nothing but tremble as the blood in their veins turned to ice.
“Uhh….”
Perhaps it was a blessing, in its own way.
That vicious fiend did not give them even the chance to properly feel that thick, sluggish terror.
Bang!
Cheong Myeong kicked off the deck hard enough to make it look as if the planks would burst apart, then surged toward the bandits.
“Aaaaargh!”
Driven mad by fear, they screamed and thrust out their spears in spasms.
It wasn’t a stab meant to bring a man down. It was less an attack to kill than a desperate, instinctive motion to keep him from closing the distance.
Whatever the intent, the sight of dozens of spears flying toward one man was terrifying enough in itself.
But the young swordsman with the cold gleam in his eyes merely lifted one corner of his mouth and smiled as the spears came at him.
Swish.
It was a scene like a hallucination.
He could have retreated. He could have deflected them. There were dozens of ways to deal with the attack.
But the method Cheong Myeong chose was the most reckless—and the most efficient.
Swish.
Like a ghost, Cheong Myeong slipped into the tiny gaps between the spears.
Kagang!
He knocked aside one spear just enough to keep it from piercing him, twisted his shoulder to let another graze past, and shoved a third away with a flick of his body. Threading himself through the forest of spearheads, he twisted and carved out a space that belonged to him alone.
The bandits’ eyes went wide.
In that instant, what they faced was a white-grinning demon in the middle of their spears.
Pat.
The sword, angled low to the left, moved slightly forward.
The blade strike that had begun slowly then exploded into speed, drawing a flawless straight line.
The red slash that severed the bandits’ throats in an instant flew on toward another bandit’s face. He gave a beastlike shriek, not even daring to run.
Fwaaaaash!
No—he tried to scream. But before the cry could even leave his mouth, Cheong Myeong’s sword chopped his neck away.
In one stroke, five bodies were split in two. Unable to withstand the force still riding the blade, their upper halves were launched into the air and spun like tops.
Blood sprayed across the sky above the Yangtze River like rain.
With a single sword strike, more than ten lives had been ended. Watching the blood pouring from the lower halves that had not yet fallen, the bandits staggered backward.
There were still dozens of their comrades on this ship. And the enemy was only one man.
But what meaning did such facts have now?
Showered in flying blood, Cheong Myeong turned his gaze.
Black hair clung to his face, already stained red by blood that had not yet cooled.
His pitch-black eyes stared at the bandits without the slightest trace of emotion.
“U, uh….”
Chwaaak!
Cheong Myeong shook the blood from his sword, then moved again as though hunting for the next prey.
“Aaaaaaaaargh!”
“P-please, spare meeeee!”
Collapse had begun.
The bandits let out miserable screams and turned to flee. They stabbed at their own comrades with spears without even realizing it, dragged the people running in front of them backward, and began to run with the frantic speed of men who would never move so fast again in their lives.
Only one thought filled their heads.
They wanted to live.
To exist in the same space as that demon meant only death. Once they understood that fact, their one and only duty was to escape the fiend’s grasp and survive.
The punishment waiting for them if they ran was no longer something they could care about. Once true terror had revealed itself, what room was left for anything else?
With their minds blank, they howled and hurled themselves over the side of the ship. If they could just dive into the river, that demon would no longer be able to pursue them.
But unfortunately for them, once a demon had tasted blood, there was no mercy left in him.
Fwaaaash!
The sword moved without a moment’s hesitation, slicing open the bandits’ backs. It chopped through the ankles of one trying to leap off the deck, then severed the spine of another who had already fallen.
Bang!
Cheong Myeong kicked off the deck again and sprang upward, sending sword qi streaming toward the backs of the bandits fleeing over the side.
The crescent-shaped sword light mercilessly tore through the bodies of those who had dared show him their backs, as though punishing them for their cowardice.
“Aaaagh! Gah!”
“Kraaaagh!”
The screams of the bandits pierced through the air, then spilled miserably over the waters of the Yangtze River.
Plop! Plop!
The bandits who had finally reached the water they had so desperately wanted, beyond the reach of that demon’s sword, could not rejoice. The dead could not feel joy, nor sorrow.
Tap!
Cheong Myeong landed once more on the deck and turned his gaze to the bandit in front of him, trembling violently. This one had lost his ankle and could not leap overboard. His face was deathly pale as he stammered out the words.
“H-how c-could you… chase d-down someone who’s r-running….”
Cheong Myeong let out a scoff.
“So if we’re fighting to kill each other and one side turns and runs, I’m supposed to start showing mercy?”
He walked toward the man at an unhurried pace.
“Th-that….”
“You bastards can do whatever the hell you want, and we’re supposed to play by some other set of rules? Because we’re righteous?”
The closer he came, the more the bandit’s eyes trembled.
“Sure, I guess there are people like that. There are probably plenty of idiots who’d do that. But….”
Thud!
Cheong Myeong’s sword mercilessly pierced the bandit’s heart.
“I’m not one of them.”
The bandit stared blankly at the sword buried in his left chest.
Fwap!
When the sword was pulled free, he died on the spot, and his head dropped forward with a dull jerk. Cheong Myeong lifted his own head without any lingering sentiment and confirmed that no one remained standing on the deck, then kicked off the ship without hesitation and flung himself into the air.
Bang!
He drove himself forward across the surface of the water, and the corner of his mouth twisted.
The place he was heading for was not the main force of Mount Hua, but another ship approaching them from the direction of Mount Hua.
“You goddamn bastards!”
The Black Dragon King’s roar exploded from his mouth.
“What the hell are you doing? You idiots!”
Veins stood out red in his eyes.
Those damn Mount Hua lunatics were crossing the Yangtze however they pleased, yet the river bandits he was so proud of had failed to stop them even once.
The arrows they had poured down, the spears thrust up from below—none of it had done a damn thing. Even the Thunderbolt Cannons they had set up with such care were being shattered in an instant.
He could not understand how something like this was possible.
Even the Namgung Clan, even Shaolin—everyone feared the river bandits on the Yangtze. So how could Mount Hua fight as though it were overwhelming them on their own home waters?
“The footing!”
The Black Dragon King shouted himself hoarse.
“Break the footing, you damn fools! Don’t stand and fight—smash the footing! If you drag them into the water, they’re nothing! Aim for the planks in front of them!”
His judgment was correct.
Sometimes even the smallest factor could create an enormous difference. All of this had undoubtedly arisen from the narrow wooden planks beneath Mount Hua’s feet.
But no matter how correct a judgment was, it meant nothing if it came too late.
Plum Blossom Island, which had seemed impossibly far to cross to, was now close enough to reach in an instant if they simply charged over the water’s surface. By the time the Black Dragon King shouted, Mount Hua’s vanguard had already nearly reached the island.
“You rat-like bastards!”
The Black Dragon King raised his guandao, exuding the kind of fierce momentum that seemed capable of shattering the Black Dragon Ship itself.
Goooooooh!
Dreadful energy began gathering at the end of the blade. His bloodshot eyes locked precisely onto Baek Cheon, who was leading the charge at the front of Mount Hua.
“Diiiiiiie!”
Kwaaaaaaaaaaa!
His guandao came slashing down from above with savage force!
Blade qi burst toward Baek Cheon in a violent surge. It was the very same power that had once made the King’s Sword sink into these flowing waters. It was blade qi that fully explained why the name Black Dragon King ruled the Yangtze with terror.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaa!
The unleashed blade qi ripped at the air, its force alone carving a long line across the surface of the river.
The Black Dragon King was certain this strike would change everything. There was no way that flimsy sword could block it.
At that moment, Baek Cheon, running in a straight line, gave the incoming blade qi a brief glance.
And that was all.
Even after clearly seeing the attack, Baek Cheon looked forward again and surged ahead even faster.
Just as the Black Dragon King swallowed a gasp at the absurd sight—
“A—mi—ta—bha!”
A Buddhist invocation rang out.
One that could be heard anywhere in the Central Plains, yet had no business being heard here, on the Yangtze River. It was a sound that should never have reached these waters.
“What?”
In the next instant, someone sprang up like a streak of light in front of the blade qi flying toward Baek Cheon. A brilliant golden Buddhist radiance poured from him like the sun itself.
“S-Shaolin?”
The Black Dragon King’s eyes flew wide open.
“Taahhhhh!”
Hye Yeon, who had leaped into the air, drew his fist back and drove it forward in one explosive motion.
Woooooooom!
Baekbo Singwon—the White Step Divine Fist—collided with the incoming blade qi.
The blade qi that had been shooting straight toward Baek Cheon twisted upward, then flew over Mount Hua’s disciples and slammed directly into the river bandit ship on the far side, where the encirclement was tightening.
Kwaaaaaaaang!
“Aaaaaaagh!”
“W-water’s flooding in! Block it! The ship’s sinking!”
The power of that blade qi was so immense that it tore open the bottom of the bandit ship. The blue water of the Yangtze rushed in, spiraling violently.
But the sight of that ship had no place in the Black Dragon King’s eyes.
His gaze was fixed entirely on the one person who had deflected his blade qi and was now being hurled backward by the recoil.
That man wore the same black martial robes as Mount Hua’s disciples. But even so, wasn’t his identity obvious?
Only one question remained.
“Why is Shaolin here! Why!”
But there was no one here who could answer his shout.
Meanwhile, Baek Cheon, trusting Hye Yeon and ignoring the Black Dragon King’s blade qi, drove himself even harder forward.
Bang!
In the next moment, Baek Cheon kicked off the wooden plank as though he meant to shatter it, and his body soared into the air. Leaping over the surging Yangtze, he became a black streak cutting across the blue sky.
And at last.
Thud.
Baek Cheon’s feet landed not on the wooden plank, but on solid ground.
Here, on Plum Blossom Island.
“…….”
The bandits waiting at the island’s edge stared at him with stunned faces.
Baek Cheon, who had bent low to absorb the landing, slowly straightened his upper body and spoke.
“By the Sect Leader’s command.”
“…….”
“We will defeat the river bandits and rescue the Namgung Clan.”
Baek Cheon raised his sword and pointed it forward.
“Carry it out!”
At that very moment, the swordsmen of Mount Hua who had followed him onto the island swept past Baek Cheon and charged at the bandits.
“Hyaaaah!”
“Crush them!”
At the tips of their swords, red sword qi bloomed all at once. The sword light blossomed brilliantly, and on one side of Plum Blossom Island, it painted the namesake flowers in crimson.
Truly beautiful—and fiercely brilliant.