Gangta Sword
"Senior? What happened to me…?"
As I said that, I tried to sit up, but a stabbing ache shot through my head and made me stop.
Whoa. This is no joke. Even when I’ve been drunk, my head has never hurt this badly.
And I hadn’t even inhaled the stuff head-on. The powder had been thrown at Extreme Line, and even then he’d spun it away with sword wind so cleanly it was almost ridiculous.
And still it was this bad? That’s insane. It’s straight-up cheating.
What the hell kind of powder was that? Are they crazy?
Those bastards weren’t fools, not by any stretch.
They had a trump card they were confident in, and that was why they’d made it this far.
So this is why they’ve survived until now. They had a hidden ace up their sleeve.
"Don’t strain yourself."
"Ugh. Senior… are you all right? Your face is red… Did you inhale even a little…?"
"Enough. I’m not so frail as to be taken in by something like that. If your body still isn’t fully recovered, then stop talking and lie still."
That was what Extreme Line said, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it and tried to sit up again.
But Extreme Line put a hand on my shoulder and pressed me back down.
Before I knew it, I was lying with my head on her thigh again, and I could only glance up at her without saying a word.
Extreme Line, meanwhile, kept looking off into the distance, her expression perfectly calm.
Though her face was still red, she somehow looked embarrassed.
When I was the one who should’ve been embarrassed.
It was a strange feeling.
Thigh pillow? Lap pillow? Whatever you call it, there was something oddly tranquil about this.
Was it because our bodies were touching? Because of the warmth?
Or maybe because of that faint scent coming off Extreme Line?
Honestly, it was kind of funny.
Extreme Line was definitely older. I didn’t know how old, but there was no way it matched that face.
At the very least, she looked like she should be called an aunt. Or maybe a grandmother. She had to be. By age, absolutely.
But she didn’t give off that kind of feeling at all.
Was that the power of beauty?
When someone was that beautiful, did age just stop mattering?
Come to think of it, fantasy worlds weren’t any different, were they?
They had elves too, right? Sure, they were beautiful, but what if they were secretly 200 or 300 years old?
No, at that point maybe age would stop feeling like age entirely.
So what about a 70-year-old elf? Would that feel creepy?
Probably not. You’d probably just think, Wow, pretty young for an elf.
Yeah, that felt about right.
Of course, the martial artists here weren’t elves. They were humans, plain and simple.
But if I thought of them as a different kind of human from the ones in my old world, then all the discomfort just vanished.
Right. That made sense. I think I get it.
But why was I even thinking about this? Why did it feel like I was desperately defending Extreme Line in my head?
Anyway, after lying there and letting the thoughts drift for a while, the headache eventually faded.
And as nice as it was to stay like this, I couldn’t just keep lying around forever.
"Um… Senior?"
"What is it?"
"I think I’m okay now…."
At that, Extreme Line looked at me with her usual calm expression.
The redness in her face had also faded back to normal.
So that powder really had affected her after all. Seeing her perfectly fine now was proof enough.
"Then get up."
"Yes, Senior."
Once I sat up, Extreme Line rose as well.
Had we lain there for a shichen? About that long? At least it didn’t feel like we’d wasted much time.
"We’re still going, right?"
"Of course. But before that, there’s something I must make clear."
Extreme Line looked at me sternly. Her demeanor was colder than usual.
So I wisely kept my head down.
"I won’t rush ahead on my own, Senior."
As soon as I said it, Extreme Line stared at me for a moment, then turned away and replied,
"As long as you know. The martial world is a cruel place. Don’t act rashly. Not if you wish to avoid bringing disaster upon yourself."
"I’ll keep that in mind."
"Good. Then let’s go."
So Extreme Line and I set out again.
Leading the way, she took us back past the spot where the four dead men still lay, and just seeing them made my face twist on its own.
Ugh. Horrifying. I’d forgotten how grotesque a body looked with its head gone.
Of course, those guys had deserved to die.
They’d committed crimes worthy of death, so I didn’t feel any pity looking at them.
What I was thinking about was death itself.
The act of severing someone’s life, and the fact that these weren’t NPCs moving around inside a game.
They were human beings, bleeding and screaming and dying.
And someday, I’d probably cut down men like them with my own hands too.
I wasn’t someone who preached nonviolence, but I still wondered whether I’d be able to kill when the time came.
I was a civilized person, after all. A modern human being.
But that question was resolved surprisingly quickly.
Extreme Line, who had been walking beside me, twitched her brows and looked off in one direction.
Then, after frowning slightly, she headed that way. I followed without even knowing what was there.
It didn’t take long before I understood why she’d changed course.
The clash of weapons. The unmistakable sound of people fighting.
When we got a little closer, I could finally see them.
A man in blue martial garb, sword in hand, was pressing down on three men dressed in black.
Looking more closely, I saw two other men in black lying on the ground.
So he’d taken on five men by himself? And already put two of them down?
Extreme Line stood there watching quietly, so I did the same and felt much more at ease.
Having Extreme Line beside me really was reassuring. Whatever happened, I could relax. She’d been like that earlier too.
Not long after, one of the black-clad men wielding a greatsword was struck down by a blade.
He hadn’t been able to win when there were five of them, so there was no way he’d turn it around now that there were only three.
Maybe that was why one of the black-clad men, after seeing his comrade swing his sword in a wide arc, launched what must have been his last desperate strike. But when it was blocked, he suddenly turned and bolted.
Wow. Impressive. At that moment, he’d even thrown his comrade in as bait just to open a path for escape?
But the attempt was meaningless.
The man in blue drove his sword into the body of one of the remaining black-clad men, then picked up the greatsword lying nearby and hurled it with all his strength.
There was a heavy thwack, and the fleeing man was killed on the spot.
In the end, the lone man had won against five. He simply stood there afterward, chuckling to himself.
Then he looked over here.
I jumped, but the target of that gaze wasn’t me. Of course it was Extreme Line.
The man, still smiling, strode toward us.
Seeing the blood smeared all over him and the grin on his face gave me a chill.
"I shouldn’t have been pleased just from cutting down small fry. Looks like my luck’s run out. Of all places, I had to run into Extreme Line here."
He spoke with his sword hanging low and his head tilted at an angle.
And then Extreme Line, who I’d thought wouldn’t answer, looked at him and said quietly,
"What was your name again? Gangta Sword, was it?"
"Hoho. The famous Extreme Line remembers even a lowly fellow’s title? I’m honored beyond words."
Disheveled hair, a martial outfit worn thin in several places, and a sword.
I had the feeling this man was very strong.
How should I put it? He felt different from the other trash we’d met so far.
Probably stronger than Paeng Jeon-ho, too….
Well, the fact that Extreme Line knew his name already proved he was formidable.
"Girl."
"Yes, Senior."
"You take care of him."
Extreme Line said that out of nowhere, her expression not changing in the least.
"Understood."
So I didn’t say, Me? or Really?
If Extreme Line said it, then she must have had some reason for it.
She was an extraordinary person, after all.
That meant she probably thought I could beat him, which was why she was telling me to step in.
So I stepped forward. Without hesitation. Without wavering.
"You must think I’m beneath notice. I can’t help but wonder why, Extreme Line?"
But as expected, Extreme Line didn’t answer. She simply looked at me and the man called Gangta Sword in silence.
Perhaps because of that, Gangta Sword finally shut his mouth and gripped his sword in silence.
The mood sharpened in an instant. I could practically feel the air around us change.
And then, all at once, Gangta Sword moved.
His blade flashed straight toward my face before I could even blink. The man was going for the kill without a shred of hesitation.
Fortunately, I saw it coming and knocked the sword aside with my iron fan.
Had he not already been injured in the thigh, I probably wouldn’t have been able to dodge that attack.
The man’s blade was deflected with a ringing impact, and the next strike came immediately after.
The sword bent like a snake, aiming for my neck.
I didn’t know why Extreme Line thought I’d be able to win.
So I decided to deal with him my own way.
This time, I threw the sword aside with all the strength I had, unlike before.
With a sharp clang, the man’s blade was knocked violently away.
He hadn’t expected that kind of rebound, and for a split second, surprise flickered across his face.
And I did not waste that opening. This was a method I could only use once.
The torso was wide open. I gathered internal energy into my palm and brought it down hard.
That was the beauty of palm techniques: even with the hand not holding the iron fan, I could unleash a palm strike whenever I wanted.
Gangta Sword tried to raise his arm to block, startled, but thankfully I was a little faster.
BOOM!
Struck by Ice Soul Divine Palm, the man staggered backward.
When he lifted the head he’d been bowing, blood spilled from his mouth in a thin stream.
That one palm strike had probably rattled his insides badly. Standing up at all was likely the limit of what he could do now.
"Hah… this is… ridiculous… not even Extreme Line… cough."
He muttered that while trying to steady himself, but soon dropped to one knee with a thud.
Watching him, I hesitated for a moment, not sure what I was supposed to do next.
Should I take his life? But with what?
Should I hit a fallen man with another palm strike? My iron fan wasn’t going to do much of anything here.
Did I need to draw a sword just to kill him?
I glanced at Extreme Line, then back at the man.
At that moment, Extreme Line walked toward us.
With a soft shing, she drew her sword and said quietly to Gangta Sword,
"I’ll tell them you died by the hand of Extreme Line."
"Heh… what an… honor… cough…."
Then Extreme Line’s blade flashed once.
And Gangta Sword’s head was cleanly severed, dropping to the ground with a dull thud.