Chapter 655
"Seems like they're not stragglers from the Thousand Swords Society but mere wandering martial artists."
After observing the three hundred martial artists, Yang Dae-ryang let out a derisive chuckle.
"Did the disciples not step forward? Afraid of dying like dogs?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong couldn't utter a word in response.
In truth, all his sworn brothers in the Thousand Swords Society had opposed his quest for revenge. They only wished to live comfortably off the society's wealth.
But Yu Hwa-ryeong couldn't accept that.
Determined to kill Yang Dae-ryang even alone, he had resorted to bribing third-rate wanderers, teaching them the Heart Prison Formation and deploying it.
This was the only method that could ensure Mutual Destruction with Yang Dae-ryang.
And if, while speaking within the formation, Yang Dae-ryang were to admit his crimes where the wanderers could hear?
Three hundred witnesses would testify that Yang Dae-ryang had confessed to destroying the Thousand Swords Society.
But Yang Dae-ryang never uttered anything resembling an admission of guilt.
Instead, he instantly identified and shattered the formation's weak point.
"Retreat!"
Facing Yang Dae-ryang's murderous gaze, the three hundred wanderers immediately turned to flee.
Swish! Whoosh—crackle!
But escape proved a futile hope.
Yang Dae-ryang unleashed his Spirit Immortal Two-Finger Art and began slaughtering the fleeing wanderers.
"Did you truly believe you could snipe at this unit leader and return unscathed?"
Moving like a specter, Yang Dae-ryang snorted dismissively.
"Had the Thousand Swords Society's disciples come, it might've been mildly entertaining, but this... it's enough to make me yawn."
As a sect founded by exceptional swordsmen, the disciples of the Thousand Swords Society had once stood at the pinnacle of the Martial World.
But after the society's leader and the Ten Seats perished, the remaining disciples neglected their martial training, constantly bickering among themselves.
Ultimately, the forces Yu Hwa-ryeong brought were third-rate martial artists, and Yang Dae-ryang found dealing with them utterly tedious.
"I should wipe out the Thousand Swords Society while I'm at it," Yang Dae-ryang muttered under his breath. "They'll only become trouble later."
Yu Hwa-ryeong, now society leader, had ambushed him with wandering martial artists.
This alone provided sufficient justification to exterminate the entire sect.
—Scatter!
Trembling with fear, the wanderers frantically activated their Movement Techniques.
But Yang Dae-ryang moved with Lightning Flash-like speed, severing the fleeing men's lifelines.
Crunch! Thud-thud!
With each flick of his fingers, wanderers' heads exploded or limbs went flying.
Combat typically occurs in a state of excitement, where fighters forget fear and terror in their struggle to survive.
Yet witnessing Yang Dae-ryang's terrifying martial prowess, the wanderers fell into such terror and confusion they could do nothing.
Whoosh! Whooosh!
Yang Dae-ryang's fingers continuously traced great circles through the air.
Thud.
In less than a quarter of an hour.
The mountainside lay blanketed in dust and fog, transformed into a Sea of Corpses and Blood.
All three hundred wanderers had fallen to Yang Dae-ryang's hands.
Only Yu Hwa-ryeong remained as the final survivor.
Fearlessly, he continued pouring attacks upon Yang Dae-ryang.
Thunk!
But when Yang Dae-ryang countered with his Finger Art, Yu Hwa-ryeong was sent flying dozens of yards, collapsing in an undignified heap.
"Commendable devotion, relying solely on one formation," Yang Dae-ryang remarked, looking down at the fallen man before shaking his head. "Reflect deeply on your actions."
He didn't kill Yu Hwa-ryeong.
First, to shift responsibility for the wanderers' deaths onto him.
Living with agonizing memories proves more torturous than death itself.
Second, keeping him alive would facilitate the complete annihilation of the Thousand Swords Society.
Crunch. Crunch.
As Yang Dae-ryang turned to leave, Yu Hwa-ryeong's voice sounded behind him.
"Wait."
When Yang Dae-ryang turned back, Yu Hwa-ryeong was glaring at him while gripping his sword.
"Have you no will to live either?"
Contempt dripped from Yang Dae-ryang's eyes.
"Pathetic—lacking even the courage to take your own life."
"I never intended to survive from the start," Yu Hwa-ryeong said, his eyes narrowing sharply. "I anticipated the Heart Prison Formation might fail."
"And?"
"I made an oath coming here. To sacrifice everything—my very body—to avenge our society and my master's death!"
Yang Dae-ryang chuckled at Yu Hwa-ryeong's words.
"Did you now? How admirable."
"Yang Dae-ryang! Do you think everything in this world will bend to your will?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong channeled his Internal Power into the longsword he gripped.
A faint white radiance instantly swirled violently in all directions.
He hadn't become society leader through gentle temperament or broad connections.
It was merely a late bloom.
Among the disciples of the Thousand Swords Society, he had possessed the most outstanding martial talent by far.
Had the society functioned normally? Had he been able to focus solely on honing his martial arts without being burdened by other matters?
Yu Hwa-ryeong would have become a swordsman who dominated the murim.
"Die!"
In an instant, a white flash erupted from Yu Hwa-ryeong's treasured sword.
Flicker!
That swift flash of light shot straight toward Yang Dae-ryang's throat in the blink of an eye.
"Hmph."
Yang Dae-ryang took a single step back, as if he had already predicted the sword's trajectory and speed in its entirety.
That alone was enough to effortlessly evade the first strike.
Snap!
But then, something bizarre happened.
The tip of Yu Hwa-ryeong's treasured sword, which had extended with blinding speed—was it breaking?
Flicker!
The broken sword tip transformed into yet another streak of light, piercing straight toward Yang Dae-ryang's heart.
Seven Absolute Sword Forms.
It was a technique created in his later years by Uhak, a master of the Fast Sword.
A fusion of the Cutting Sword Technique and the Fast Sword Technique, it was a masterpiece of the Strange Sword Study.
Tap. Tap.
In the end, the sharp sword tip was deeply embedded in the left side of Yang Dae-ryang's chest, and blood trickled down the two fingers gripping it.
"How do you like that?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong smirked confidently.
This Seven Absolute Sword Forms was a Strange Sword Study that no one could predict.
If the initial form, the Silver Flash Blood-Severing Form, missed its mark, the sheer force of its speed and internal energy would—
—shatter the sword tip and immediately pierce another vital point.
"Heh heh heh."
Yang Dae-ryang let out a low chuckle, still gripping the sword tip embedded near his heart.
"An unusual sword form."
He raised the broken fragment pinched between his fingers.
Now that he looked closely, the shard had only grazed his flesh, blocked by his fingers.
It had failed to pierce his heart.
Spirit Immortal Two-Finger Art.
The most formidable weapon in the world, those two divine fingers of the martial world—
—had effortlessly thwarted even Yu Hwa-ryeong's sudden Seven Absolute Sword Forms.
"The Thousand Swords Society always collects a mishmash of techniques to create bizarre sword forms. Is that your tradition?"
Tsk.
Yang Dae-ryang tossed the sword fragment to the ground, a peculiar smile playing on his lips.
"If you have another trump card, now's the time to reveal it."
Instead of answering, Yu Hwa-ryeong unleashed the Seven Absolute Sword Forms in rapid succession.
The technique shattered the sword into seven fragments, each strike more unpredictable than the last.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
With every execution of the Seven Absolute Sword Forms, the blade broke apart, launching forward like projectiles.
Yet Yang Dae-ryang remained composed, deflecting each one with nothing but his middle and ring fingers.
Even the Strange Sword Study, which combined the Fast Sword and Cutting Sword Technique, was nothing more than an amusing and peculiar sword form in Yang Dae-ryang's eyes.
"Nothing else?"
Tsk.
Tossing the last sword fragment aside, Yang Dae-ryang shook his head.
All that remained in Yu Hwa-ryeong's hand was the hilt.
Despite unleashing the full Seven Absolute Sword Forms, he hadn't even managed to graze a single hair on Yang Dae-ryang's head.
"Seems not."
Yang Dae-ryang extended his fingers.
Those two fingers could be called the most terrifying weapons in the world.
A mere brush of the surging force at their tips would sever Yu Hwa-ryeong's head in an instant.
Straightening.
Yet Yu Hwa-ryeong's expression remained unchanged.
Even knowing his head would soon roll, he glared back with unyielding defiance.
It was the spirit of a man who did not fear death.
"That old man raised at least one proper disciple."
Step. Step.
He closed the distance between them.
Had he been moved by Yu Hwa-ryeong's resolve?
Yang Dae-ryang passed by him slowly, without striking.
"Kill me! Even if you spare me, I'll come back to kill you!"
At Yu Hwa-ryeong's shout, Yang Dae-ryang paused mid-step and glanced back.
Then, baring his fangs, he smiled—a smile so sinister it could freeze blood.
"Who said I was sparing you?"
Squelch!
Two holes burst open in Yu Hwa-ryeong's lower abdomen, and a geyser of crimson blood shot nearly a foot into the air.
As he had brushed past, Yang Dae-ryang had used the Spirit Immortal Two-Finger Art to pierce two holes through his dantian.
The strike had been so swift that Yu Hwa-ryeong's body only registered the wounds moments later—
—before blood gushed out in torrents.
Whoosh.
As his blood and the internal energy circulating within his body spilled out, Yu Hwa-ryeong shuddered violently.
The agony of a shattered dantian and dispersing internal energy was enough to make even hardened martial artists scream and wail.
But Yu Hwa-ryeong kept his eyes wide open, enduring the agony to the very end.
"Hmm."
Yang Dae-ryang nodded in acknowledgment of Yu Hwa-ryeong's superhuman endurance.
"If you don't scream this time either, I'll concede defeat."
He raised his index and middle fingers toward the sky.
Tchk.
At that moment, the skin of Yu Hwa-ryeong's right arm began slowly peeling away from the shoulder.
Using the Shadow Faith Sword Technique, Yang Dae-ryang poured out razor-sharp internal energy, forcibly stripping away the skin and muscle of his right arm in one piece.
"Ughh— Aaahh!"
Finally, Yu Hwa-ryeong could no longer endure the pain and began screaming.
The agony was so unbearable that with every convulsion, parts of his hair turned stark white.
"Huuuuh..."
In the end, even Yu Hwa-ryeong's defiant gaze was tainted by suffering.
Because he realized—
If he refused to show fear,
this demonic man would inflict pain far worse than death, endlessly.
"Good. Now that you've seen through my true intentions, I won't kill you."
Only then did Yang Dae-ryang nod with satisfaction.
"Train your left-handed swordsmanship. If you stand before me again, I'll face you once more."
Though he said that, Yang Dae-ryang was absolutely certain it would never happen.
Because Yu Hwa-ryeong was already a broken man, too consumed by terror to ever oppose him again.
Even if he mastered left-handed swordsmanship.
Even if he obtained a fortuitous encounter and achieved immense martial prowess—
he would never dare stand before him again.
With a smirk, Yang Dae-ryang turned and slowly descended Mount Geumjeong.
Yu Hwa-ryeong stood motionless like a scarecrow, blood streaming down his body.
He needed to stop the bleeding from his arm immediately, but his internal power was gone, and the pain was so severe he couldn't even twitch a finger.
At this rate, forget revenge—he would bleed to death.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Yu Hwa-ryeong lowered his head.
'No more regrets.'
He had done his best.
Not a single day had passed where he forgot his vengeance, and he had strived endlessly to achieve it.
Though Yang Dae-ryang's martial arts were too strong, and he had failed...
...there was no lingering remorse.
'This is enough.'
Yu Hwa-ryeong slowly closed his eyes.
With the last of his strength, he tried to sever his heart meridian—to end this life of unrelenting pain.
CRACK!
But then, a violet lightning bolt flashed across the distant night sky.
Why would lightning strike on a silent, moonlit night with no rain?
Could such vividly purple lightning even exist in this world?
Yu Hwa-ryeong found it strange.
'What does it matter?'
And with all his might, he attempted to sever his heart meridian.
'Damn it.'
But he had lost too much blood—he couldn't muster any strength at all.
Thud.
In the end, he lost consciousness.
Chirp. Chirp. Chirp.
Somewhere, the sound of birdsong tickled his ears.
Yu Hwa-ryeong was dreaming of his childhood.
His master, Uhak, had raised him like his own son.
After training him in sword techniques, he would personally prepare meals for him, sometimes even taking him to the marketplace to buy tasty snacks.
Yu Hwa-ryeong hadn't cared much for swordsmanship.
All he wanted was to stay with his master in the Thousand Swords Society for as long as possible—that would have been enough.
But the warm sanctuary of the Thousand Swords Society had been destroyed by a demonic murderer.
His master, barely surviving, had wept tears of blood alongside Seoksong, forging a new sword technique for revenge.
Yu Hwa-ryeong had wanted vengeance against the monster who shattered their sanctuary and tore apart the peaceful Thousand Swords Society.
But in the end, he had failed—and now he would die.
It was unbearable.
He had no face to meet his master in the underworld.
With that heart-rending anguish, Yu Hwa-ryeong opened his eyes.
"Ugh—!"
The moment he did, the thick scent of medicine assaulted his nostrils.
Turning his head, he saw a large censer emitting white incense.
Though mixed with the medicinal odor, with every breath, the excruciating pain in his chest seemed to ease slightly.
It was likely a pain-relieving medicinal incense.
'Where... am I?'
When he tried to sit up, a splitting pain tore through his lower abdomen and right arm.
Looking down, he saw himself dressed in clean robes, his lower abdomen and right arm tightly wrapped in pristine bandages.
"How...?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong blinked in disbelief as he rose from the bed.
He had been dying—his dantian pierced, his right arm skinned, left a cripple.
But now, aside from some lingering pain, the skin of his arm was perfectly intact, and his blood circulation was unimpaired.
And his dantian—?
"It's... not shattered?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong's eyes widened in disbelief.
His lower dantian should have been destroyed, his internal energy dispersing outward—so how could it remain intact now?
'Ugh—'
When he attempted to circulate his qi, a tearing pain surged through his abdomen.
Thud.
The agony was so overwhelming that he collapsed onto the bed, gripping the sheets.
Though his dantian appeared whole, his internal energy reserves had dwindled to barely half their former level.
And worse—the moment he tried channeling his qi, it felt as though his lower dantian might shatter again.
Click.
Just then, the door opened.
A girl in resplendent robes entered, followed by a young woman who seemed to be her attendant.
"You're awake," the girl said, blinking large eyes as she studied Yu Hwa-ryeong.
"How is your body?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong stared blankly.
Though her face was that of a teenage girl, her gentle tone and benevolent gaze carried the presence of a refined matron in her fifties.
"I—uh, my abdomen hurts a little..."
Stammering in confusion, he glanced down—then froze.
Something wet was seeping through.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Before he realized it, crimson blood had already soaked through the pristine white bandages.
"Oh dear, you've been using your internal energy," the girl observed immediately, then turned to the woman behind her.
"Contact the So-hwa Pavilion Master and have two Hundred Medicines Pills dissolved in hot water for him. And prepare fresh bandages."
"Understood."
As the attendant bowed and turned to leave, Yu Hwa-ryeong hastily clasped his hands together.
"I am Yu Hwa-ryeong, current leader of the Thousand Swords Society."
He glanced around awkwardly before meeting the girl's gaze again.
"May I ask... where exactly am I?"
"Ah, I should have introduced myself first."
The girl smiled faintly and returned the courtesy.
"I am Hwa-mi, Palace Master of this sect."
"Palace... Master?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong frowned.
How could this child be the ruler of an entire palace?
"And this place is the Cloud Sea Azure Spirit Palace."
"The... Cloud Sea Azure Spirit Palace?!"
His eyes bulged.
Even he had heard legends of this fabled sect hidden in the depths of Tibet.
But he had been dying on Mount Geumjeong—how could he have awakened thousands of li away?
"How...?"
As Yu Hwa-ryeong gaped, Palace Master Hwa-mi spoke softly.
"The Martial Soul Lord carried you here in his arms."
"The... Martial Soul Lord? You mean—him?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong's jaw slackened.
By the time Bu Eun-seol would have received his letter...
He should have already been dying under Yang Dae-ryang's Spirit Immortal Two-Finger Art on Mount Geumjeong.
So how could Bu Eun-seol have possibly saved him?
"The Lord's Lightness Art has reached a level few in the martial world can match."
As if sensing his bewilderment, Hwa-mi explained patiently.
"The moment he received your letter, he mobilized his intelligence network to track your whereabouts. By the time he reached Mount Geumjeong, you were already on the verge of death."
In the past, Bu Eun-seol might not have found him so quickly.
But now, the Martial Alliance's Peak Hall operatives had joined forces with the Death Soul Squad's intelligence network.
And under Bu Eun-seol's orders, they hadn't searched for Yu Hwa-ryeong—but for the movements of the Heaven-Piercing Unit's leader.
Even if Yu Hwa-ryeong's trail was untraceable...
They had gambled that the Martial Alliance's intelligence might still locate Yang Dae-ryang.
Fortunately, their gamble paid off—and they arrived just in time.
"Then he fed you the Life-Seizing Divine Pill and Azure Spirit Stone Fluid to restore your condition immediately before bringing you here."
"Azure Spirit Stone Fluid?!"
Yu Hwa-ryeong's mouth fell open again.
He might not know of the Life-Seizing Divine Pill, but the Azure Spirit Stone Fluid was a legendary treasure rarely seen in the mortal world.
How had Bu Eun-seol obtained it—and used it on him?
"The Lord spent millions of taels to procure both the Azure Spirit Stone Fluid and our palace's spiritual herbs in advance, crafting the Life-Restoring Divine Pill."
A quiet smile touched Hwa-mi's lips.
"He said he would never allow his subordinates to lose their lives."
Yu Hwa-ryeong hung his head in shame.
He had only sent that letter to entrust the future of the Thousand Swords Society...
Yet the moment Bu Eun-seol received it, he had moved heaven and earth to find him—and ultimately saved his life.
"I never meant to burden him like this..."
A bitter expression crossed Yu Hwa-ryeong's face.
When his master, Uhak, and the Second Seat, Seoksong, had fallen, the remaining members of the Thousand Swords Society turned their backs on vengeance—
Caring only for self-preservation. Even his fellow disciples had abandoned him.
Yet the one who raced against death itself to save him...
Was a man of the Demonic Path.
"Where... is he now?"
At his question, Hwa-mi retrieved a letter from her sleeve.
"He has already returned to the Central Plains. But he left this for you."
Yu Hwa-ryeong snatched it eagerly—
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Blood trickled from his lips as he read.
The contents were too shocking to bear.