Chapter 84. Sword Dance (2)
Chapter 84. Sword Dance (2)
Winter.
"Snow is falling."
My master's steps were light.
"Two days have already passed since the duel began."
Gliding over the ice as if slipping across it, lightly, lightly, my master trod the snowfield.
A world blanketed in white.
My master's black robes flowed like brushstrokes across blank paper.
-How long can you keep running?
There was another brushstroke chasing after that one.
A brushstroke rougher than my master's, stronger, more violent. A brushstroke loaded with ink and pressed down hard.
-When it comes to lightness arts, I won't lose either.
The guardian spirit came charging with heavy steps, shattering the ice and plowing through the snow like a bulldozer.
"I am confident I could run forever."
-But the end will come anyway.
"Do you not know? This world has become an endless snowfield. There may be nowhere to go, but there are infinite places to flee."
-I won't leave you be.
The guardian spirit kicked off the snowfield and leaped.
-If you were truly in your prime, then yes, you could run forever. But this is a duel happening right now. The time left on your life is less than a single watch. The hourglass is running out. Do you still intend to run?
"Aha, how underhanded."
-The truth is underhanded.
The guardian spirit swung his sword.
"Fine, I admit it."
My master turned her head and lightly evaded.
"My life has little time left. I cannot keep running forever."
-You'll have to settle this someday.
"There is no reason that someday cannot be now."
-So we can talk after all.
"In that case."
My master gripped her sword hilt.
"I will show you my full power."
Demonic Heavenly God Art魔天神功.
First Form第一式.
Sword of Starvation餓死流劍.
"...Starvation, you see, is the gesture of parents who trade their own child for the neighbor's child, and eat them."
The sword split the winter wind and screamed.
"Have you heard the story of an adult who carved the neighbor child's body into jerky and buried it in the snowfield? Have you heard the rumors of that village? The story of a village where, if you dig through the snowy paths in winter, the flesh of young children catches on the tip of every shovel?"
-How sad.
Clang.
The guardian spirit blocked my master’s blade with his sword.
-There must have been a famine.
"Indeed. Famine is like a plague that always returns."
-But it is a matter of chance.
The guardian spirit faced the winter wind and swung his sword.
-By chance there is a good harvest, and by chance there is a famine. In all creation, there is nothing that is not chance. Cult leader, if you weep over a chance tragedy, then by the same logic you must laugh and be happy over chance joy.
"......."
-The depth of one person's sorrow is exactly equal to the height of that person's happiness.
Shing.
The two swords crossed.
Red plum blossoms fell.
-Therefore, I shall sing of the happy autumn harvest.
Snowflakes fell like leaves.
-There was a day I walked along a road and saw the horizon. It was a day when a golden sea of rice stretched to the horizon. Among the stalks as tall as a child, little ones were playing hide-and-seek. Laughter drifted through the gaps in the rice, vanished, then drifted out again.
Autumn.
The wind blew.
The mountains and fields were dyed red with autumn leaves, and the horizon was dyed yellow with rice.
-You spoke of a child's flesh buried in the snowfield. I shall speak of the laughter of children playing hide-and-seek beneath the rice.
In a world where countless red leaves fall.
The guardian spirit swung his sword.
-Either one is a chance event on some chance day. If there is something I must carry in my sword, it is the laughter beneath the rice. If there is a scene I must recall last when I someday die, it is also that landscape of children playing hide-and-seek. An obvious choice.
"Truly."
My master cut through the autumn leaves.
"What a blessed thing to say!"
Demonic Heavenly God Art魔天神功.
Second Form第二式.
Sword of Thirst渴死痺劍.
"You say both are chance events. I suppose so. But happiness does not kill people. The pain of starvation, the pain of thirst kills people! When you die, it is over forever. It ends."
The sun beat down.
"I shall sing of the people who died unable to drink a single sip of water!"
Summer.
A scorching wind covered the world.
The mountains, streams, grass, and trees withered.
Weeds turned yellow. Fruit shriveled, beetles moved sluggishly, and along the riverbanks lay hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of dead fish. Flop. The round eyes of the fish held no moisture.
-Ah.
My master’s sword grew sticky.
Even when the guardian spirit struck back, my master did not retreat. Instead, she clung closer. Extreme close combat. They were so close they could feel each other’s breath. Clang! Chang! Sword and sword blurred together, dizzying the eyes.
-Swimming in summer feels damn good.
The guardian spirit met every one of my master’s swift strikes.
-You are teaching Gong-ja wrong.
"...What?"
-Sorry, that was a bit harsh. Rather than teaching him wrong, you're teaching him too early.
The guardian spirit’s sword flowed like water.
-Singing of the world's pain is fine. Turning your eyes to others' suffering is fine too. But you can't keep doing that forever.
"Why not?"
-Because you just get tired.
Clang!
Red cluster amaryllis petals scattered.
-That brat Gong-ja hasn't tasted enough of the world's joys yet.
Before long, offense and defense had switched.
-He needs to taste the finest delicacies. Only after tasting them can he grieve more deeply for those who will never eat such things in their lives. He needs to swim in summer. Only after swimming can he weep for those who wither without water. The human heart is a candle wick. If all it does is burn, someday it burns out completely.
"......."
-Do you know? Cult leader. That brat has never even loved anyone. Isn't that ridiculous! He's never even been in a relationship!
Sword strikes poured down like a waterfall.
-And yet he already acts like he's carrying all the pain and sorrow of the world on his shoulders! Ha, don't make me laugh. Your cult's teachings are far, far too early!
They poured down like rain.
-I'm going to teach that brat how to be happy.
Rain poured down.
-I'll teach him how to laugh without a shred of hypocrisy. I'll teach him how to throw an arm over someone else's shoulder. He needs to reach the point where being with someone makes him so happy he can't help it. Only then can he finally grieve without end!
"You......."
Rain fell on the parched earth. The river was drenched with rainwater. The fish carcasses were swept away downstream. Morning glories opened their purple tongues and drank the raindrops.
The sound of frogs crying.
"You intend to play master to my disciple!"
Demonic Heavenly God Art魔天神功.
Third Form第三式.
Sword of Drowning溺死滿劍.
-Yes!
"How dare you!"
Like an unending downpour.
Sword strikes came down again and again, like an unending downpour.
"How dare you covet my one and only true disciple!"
Midsummer.
The monsoon flooded.
On the river, tens of thousands of red roses drifted.
-Don't make me laugh! I was planning to take the position of this kid's master from the start!
The reservoir collapsed and the village was submerged. The water rose to the mountain slopes. Across the swollen surface, my master and the guardian spirit dashed. Splash. Sploosh! Ripples bloomed wherever their feet touched the water.
-I'm the one who taught this kid how to cut off orc heads! I'm the one who taught him how to wield aura! I coaxed and cajoled a brat with no talent for martial arts whatsoever and raised him into something usable! And now the leader of some evil cult butts in!
"What, evil cult?"
-Yeah! A demonic cult is an evil cult, what else!
The two glided across the water’s surface.
Chased.
Ripples bloomed with each step, splash.
Chasing.
Rose petals were gently crushed beneath their toes.
The shadows of the two fell over the ripples and petals.
-Swinging a sword is a joyful thing!
The smell of water on a rainy day.
The scent of flowers hung thick.
-The Demonic Heavenly God Art is too early for Gong-ja! A sword that swings pain, by pain, through pain! What is that! That's way too much like a demonic art (魔功)! It wouldn't be enough to sing of the joy of smelling flowers, the pleasure of meeting summer rain with bare skin!
"Gong-ja is! My disciple is! A child born to become the next cult leader of our order!"
-Thinking like that is exactly why you're a heretic cult leader!
Hundreds of millions of roses.
Before long, the flooded river was no longer visible. The water’s surface had disappeared beneath roses and petals.
The world turned red with a field of flowers.
"■■■■, ■■■. ■■■■."
-■■■, ■■, ■■■■. ■■■!
Spring.
Flowers drifted.
Red peonies, in full bloom, scatter into the sky.
"...With the sixth form of the Peony Chaos Sword, Chaotic Petal Chaotic Sword, I shall carve out your cervical vertebrae."
Clang!
Two petals, cut by the blade, crumbled.
-I'll dodge two steps with Snow Orchid Steps.
I could see it.
"...With the seventh form of the Demonic Heavenly God Art, Sword of Blunt Force, I shall blow you away."
I could hear it.
-I'll counter with the fourth form of Sea Flower Full Strike, Autumn Night Falling Moon Strike.
I could see their two swords.
I could see the peony the two of them pressed down and stepped on.
A red peony crushed underfoot, its fragrance bursting.
"......."
Only by seeing it could I finally understand.
My master.
The Heavenly Demon, leader of the Demonic Cult, was losing.
"...With the eighth form of the Demonic Heavenly God Art, Sword of Incineration, I shall resist."
Beneath a sky full of peonies, my master bled.
Covered in blood.
The difference in skill between my master and the guardian spirit was obvious. No matter how long she fled to drag the battle out, she could not shake off the guardian spirit’s pursuit. As the price for attempting the impossible, my master bled from her arms, legs, and shoulders.
-Hm.
The guardian spirit took a stance.
-I'll strike it down with the first form of Falling Sun Falling Flower Sword, Moon Night Coming Sword.
"......."
My master’s breathing grew slightly thinner.
Her internal energy was running out.
Using true qi to aim for mutual destruction would be overreaching.
"I......."
My master spoke.
"I never completed the final sword path of the Demonic Heavenly God Art. There is one reason. The death rooted in my heart since childhood is death by freezing. Being abandoned by my mother and left alone in the snowfield to freeze to death. That was the ending I believed death to be."
My master raised her sword high.
"However."
The tip of the sword pointed to the center of the sky like the hand of a clock at noon.
"Paradoxically, after the world was destroyed, I was able to complete the ninth sword of the Demonic Heavenly God Art."
"......."
"Above heaven and below heaven, I alone am honored."
天上天下, 唯我獨尊.
"Whether I look up above the heavens or walk below them, only I exist. Baraya. Baraya. Agabaraya. Because the world is winter, a single candle gutters. My solitary song is the song of all under heaven, and my death is the death of heaven and earth. White, growing whiter, and whiter still."
The sword.
Split the sky.
"My demonic heaven cries out its last words upon the snowfield."
Demonic Heavenly God Art魔天神功.
Ninth Form第九式.
Solitary Survival Sword獨存孤劍.
"......."
Winter.
Cut through spring.
The red sky of petals split. From the gap, white winter raged. It raged and descended. The petals became snow, the hundreds of millions of peonies became hundreds of millions of snowflakes, and the world froze.
A solitary sword.
A single strike singing of the Heavenly Demon's solitary death.
-Indeed.
The guardian spirit gazed quietly up at the torrent of winter bearing down on him.
-A solitary death. So that is the death the Demonic Cult leader chose. Yes, I acknowledge it. As the last martial artist of a ruined world, it is a strike that suits you perfectly.
A lonely smile hung on the guardian spirit’s lips.
-But when it comes to solitude, I know it better than you.
The guardian spirit gripped his sword hilt.
-How long did you endure in a world left alone? Three years? Two years? No. You never endured even a single day. Because there was always a person called the Murim Alliance Master by your side. When the Murim Alliance Master died, you lost your mind and went mad.
The tip of the sword moved.
-Sorry.
And then.
-I endured alone for 130 years.
Martial Art武功.
Formless Form無形式.
One Sword一劍.
The peonies.
Winter冬, spring, summer, autumn,
Autumn秋, winter, spring, summer,
Summer夏, autumn, winter, spring,
Spring春, summer, autumn, winter,
Plum blossoms and peonies and roses and cluster amaryllis.
Cluster amaryllis and plum blossoms and peonies and roses.
Petals, as petals, petals, because they are petals.
Red, and red, so red, because they are red.
Winter.
Turning red.
Winter again.
Winter.
Breath.
Growing short, er.
"......."
I caught my breath.
"...Hngh!"
I could not see it.
I could not hear it.
I could not comprehend that single strike at all.
"Hah, hngh, ngh......! Hah, ah......."
But.
At that moment, there was something slightly more important than understanding the sword.
"Mas, ter."
"......."
"Master, are you all right......? Your body, are you all right?"
My master was silently gazing up at the winter sky. His eyes had no focus. Thump. My heart pounded. I groped for my master's hand. I fumbled several times before finding his pulse.
It was beating.
She was alive.
She was still alive.
"Master."
"......."
My master spoke slowly.
"I see."
“I see,” my master said.
"So it was."
“So it was,” she said, looking into my eyes.
"My disciple."
Ink-dark eyes.
"My disciple. From the very beginning, you had no thought but to help me."
"......."
"You said you came from beyond the frontier because you admired my fame... it was a lie. A blatant lie. Why did I not realize it sooner? My disciple is not a child who would cross the world for the sake of fame......."
Her voice.
My master's voice grew smaller and smaller.
"Thank you."
"......."
"My disciple, were you happy to have met me?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
"Will I be remembered by you as a single flower?"
"Yes, Master."
"I would like to know what flower it might be."
"As a peony......."
I held my master's body.
"I will remember you as a red peony, Master."
"Aha."
My master smiled.
"How lovely."
My master stroked my cheek.
"How lovely......."
And then.
With her remaining hand, my master gestured toward the sky.
It was a faint, light gesture, like a newborn bird flapping its wings.
"My disciple......."
Without a sound.
Without any sound at all, the snow mountain was cut.
The snow mountain, split into two pieces, rested there silently, as if it had always been that way.
My master breathed a white breath.
She must have been about to dream a white dream.
"Master......."
I buried my face in my master's shoulder. Against the breath that had stopped. Against time. Against the person who had been born carrying the scent of snow.
"Winter has been cut. Master... winter has been cut."
That day.
A world's winter was cut down.