Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Against the Unbeatable Foe
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"When you face someone you can't beat?"
The First Demon snorted.
"Turn tail and run, you idiot. Why ask something so obvious?"
"What if running isn't an option?"
"Close your eyes and beg for your life."
"And if even that doesn't work..."
"Then just die. At that point, it's what you deserve."
The First Demon flicked my forehead.
"If you've already decided they're unbeatable, why even cross swords? If you value your life, just bolt. If they catch you, you're dead. If you're lucky and escape, great. What's there to question about that?"
"...After facing the Heavenly Demon, I realized it. I can't run, and I can't charge in."
"That's normal when you're in the presence of the Cult Leader."
"But if you still have to raise your sword, what do you do?"
"...You're not seriously asking me right now... how to fight the Cult Leader, are you?"
The First Demon tilted her head at an angle, growling right in my face.
"Every Heavenly Demon is different. No one in this world can beat the Cult Leader. Even if you thrust your sword at her, it'd be like a rat waving a toothpick. "
"......."
"You're hypothesizing an absurd scenario, so of course it's nonsense. You, of all people? Against the Heavenly Demon? Even a stray dog would laugh. I could kill you without lifting a finger. And she's above even me."
"...Someday, though..."
"Someday my ass."
The First Demon dismissed my words as ridiculous. But a few days later, as if she'd been mulling over my question, she spoke up.
"That question from before."
"Pardon?"
"When you have to raise your sword against someone unbeatable. It happens once or twice in life, you moron. Think again- you run. That's the right move, and preserving your life in the moment lets you aim for the next chance."
"......."
"But if we assume it's not the Cult Leader and you have to clash swords..."
I could feel the First Demon grinning beneath her mask.
"I'd drag it out."
"Pardon?"
"Wouldn't it piss off an unbeatable foe if I toyed with them? So I'd leave a bite mark at least. That's the kind of woman I am. What about you?"
"...Me."
I pondered it deeply.
She was right.
Death is scary. But if death is inevitable...
I want to show something.
That I'm different from before.
That I'm not someone who just takes it lying down.
"...Same as you, First Demon."
"Don't get cocky. You and I are nothing alike."
She kicked my shin. The First Demon clicked her tongue.
"Once you've drawn your sword, ditch the thought of losing. That's the only way to leave a mark."
"......."
"Remember that, you dullard."
The First Demon flicked her hand.
The air trembled.
"No warrior extends their sword assuming defeat."
...
I'm gasping for breath. My vision is a blur. I can't see straight.
I grip my sword. My fingers feel numb even as I hold it tight. My wounds have healed, but my body won't obey.
The limit of my stamina? No. That's not it.
The sword.
With every clash against my opponent's blade, something eerie burrows into my internal energy. It drains me from within, forcing me to my knees.
"I thought one exchange would suffice."
The Soul-Extraction Sword murmured, lost in thought.
"But after our blades met, I knew better. I extended it to ten seconds. Yet at the end of those ten, I pushed it to thirty."
"......."
"You exceeded expectations. Still, thirty seconds-that was the limit I set. Thirty exchanges. That's how much your skill can withstand within me. Impressive growth for your age, but I figured you couldn't last. Do you know what the Soul-Extraction Sword is?"
No Ha-cheon, the Soul-Extraction Sword, spun his blade.
"The Soul-Extraction Sword steals the opponent's soul. It absorbs their internal energy and stamina through the tip, making it mine. Anyone who clashes with me self-destructs. Their confident faces crumble. I grow stronger with each exchange, while you weaken. And the greater the gap in our realms, the faster your distortion sets in."
"......"
"Yet... surely... I predicted thirty seconds..."
No Ha-cheon shrugged his shoulders.
"Over a hundred exchanges. What the hell are you?"
I open my mouth to answer. But only a wheeze escapes.
My whole body feels empty. Barely a scrap of internal energy remains, and even that's flickering.
I'm dying. My shell remains intact on the outside, but inside, I'm hollow.
Soul-Extraction Sword.
I knew from the start I couldn't beat him. Yet I had to endure.
I ground my bones into it, my flesh into it.
In the end, I splintered time itself to hold him back, but now even that's reached its limit.
I try to stand. But my limp legs buckle.
No more...
Nothing left to grind away.
Yet I rise.
Leaning on my sword, like a doll about to shatter.
"...Your willpower straightens a crumbling body. Not just anyone can do that. But it's foolhardy. Your body can't swing a sword anymore-it's as good as dead. A warrior's life is over. Your meridians are twisted, your dantian on the verge of shattering. What do you have left?"
"......."
What... is left.
I dredge up memories. What remains.
The tip of my gripped sword trembles. Words I once spoke rise up.
"There's one left here, isn't there? A guard of the Sima Clan."
I volunteered for the disadvantage. For one reason.
I couldn't let an innocent man die. Knowing his circumstances, I intervened, choosing to open my eyes instead of closing them.
Why?
---Because I wanted to.
I've always wanted to. Wanted it every time.
To step away from that past self who fled and stayed silent. To look beside me and shake my head.
Do you know the weight of silence? I do.
How cruel, twisted, and infuriating it is.
A life.
That life.
---Is a single life heavy enough to hurl itself into silence?
I raise my sword amid the doubt. My own answer awaits me now.
The sword trembles, everything seems about to collapse...
But the answer leads me.
That is my sword.
I gather my words amid the wind. Force my lungs to squeeze out one phrase.
"The sword."
By voicing it, I remind myself once more. What remains to me.
"The sword remains. Soul-Extraction Sword."
"...Kuhuhu."
The Soul-Extraction Sword laughed.
"Kuahaha! You mad bastard! No one like you among those I've faced! If circumstances allowed, I'd have taken you under my wing..."
The laughter faded from the Soul-Extraction Sword's voice. His massive heavy sword scraped the ground as he lifted it.
"But they don't. Time to send you off."
The air-splitting whoosh.
The faint thud of footsteps on the ground.
The end of his footwork is too fast for me to track. Yet I thrust out.
My sword.
...Because I grip the sword.
---Kaaaaang!!!
The resounding clash of metal. My sword qi thrashes as if about to snap.
I vomit blood. My vision blanks for a moment, and I reflexively duck.
A sword whistles over my head. It immediately arcs back down toward me.
I block.
It shatters.
My shattered thigh bone crumbles to dust and collapses to the ground.
"Keuk!"
I roll away. Dragging my crushed form across the ground, I swing my sword.
But the Soul-Extraction Sword flying at me was faster. The flashing blade before my eyes severs my right arm.
Blood sprays.
I drop the sword.
"Now truly, nothing remains."
The world spins. Even the twinkling stars in the night sky vanish from sight.
Life and death teeter before me. Whispers of the dead reach my ears.
One thin thread.
The moment that sword moves again...
Everything ends.
Is the body-shattering pain finally over? If I give it all up, will peace come?
"...Don't die."
My head swims.
I've lost my sword- isn't it time to lie down?
I want to rest. The desperate urge to rest consumes me. The agony of Heavenly Tribulation, the torment of my breaking body- I'm sick of it all.
Pain upon pain. My already crumbling body now screams for mercy.
...Perhaps in this world,
some things can't be changed by effort alone.
Deep down, I thought so. With every swing, the doubt crept in bit by bit.
As the pain intensified, survival took precedence. I was weak. Doubting my own efforts.
So I swung harder. To prove my thoughts wrong.
But I couldn't stop thinking.
No matter how endlessly I swung, might I still end up among the 'unchangeable'?
"Endure, you bastard! If you don't, I'll kill you myself!"
It seemed sturdy at a glance, but it was a single path fraught with peril.
I walked it. Striving not to look back.
The Soul-Extraction Sword's blade flashed before my eyes. I closed them against its merciless, clean stroke descending without pity.
Death approaches.
I have no strength left to resist.
Some things don't yield to effort.
They slip from my grasp...
"Once you've drawn, discard the thought of losing."
...slip away...
"That's the only way to leave a mark."
...
..
.
I reached out.
Without thinking.
A blood-red afterimage slips through the momentary gap. The Soul-Extraction Sword's face twists for an instant, as if everything were over.
Ghost Hand One Demon.
My remaining left hand slams into his waist.
---Kududuk!!
"Kuhk?!"
The Soul-Extraction Sword staggers back. I clutch my half-severed neck with my hand.
I'd forced it together. Trusting in Heavenly Tribulation's regeneration, I panted.
Why...
Why did I reach out?
My sword is far away. My right arm is gone.
The tide has turned. I'm collapsing, while he's still full of vigor.
Enduring only prolongs the pain.
I know that best.
"What is this...? How, with a body like that...?!"
I catch my breath. I look down at my clenched fist.
Ghost Hand One Demon. The foundation of the Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art.
That blood-red afterimage whispers to me. Awakening what I'd forgotten, stirring old memories.
"No warrior extends their sword assuming defeat."
...It's natural to fill with doubt when pain makes you forget the teachings.
I gather my hands. Clench my fist, steady my exhaled breath.
Struggling.
My life has always been struggles at the edge of survival.
But this time, I'd forgotten. Cowed by pain, I'd given up fighting altogether.
I've spotted the mistake. Time to correct it.
I step forward. I reclaim my dropped sword. The Soul-Extraction Sword, watching me, asks.
"Your arm reattached...? What are you...?"
Moonlight gleams off the blood-smeared blade, clouds drifting between.
Who am I? What have I walked for until now?
The answer is simple.
There is a back I admire.
I chase after her endlessly.
No time for doubts. No time for overthinking.
One moment at a time, I take the next step.
Thinking is a luxury.
Stuff it away.
That's for scholars. Not for me.
I grip my sword again. I answer the question.
Perhaps some things in this world can't be changed by effort.
Yet I walk. I whisper my fate into my dangling sword.
...Right.
Sometimes such paths exist. Backs you can't turn from, even if you try.
What then?
Press on.
"A warrior."
To keep my admiration from remaining mere admiration.
The Soul-Extraction Sword's twisted face showed admiration. He shrugged, unable to hold back.
"Ha... hahaha! Uhahaha! You madman! Yes! Now, what does any of that matter?! The sword is what counts! For a warrior, only the sword matters! Aren't you the one staking your life on it?! It doesn't matter what- only what you swing!"
"...Raise your sword, Soul-Extraction Sword."
I discard my unstable stance.
Instead, I bare my fangs. I infuse the forgotten teaching into my blade tip.
As a warrior.
As one man chasing the Heavenly Demon's back.
"I'm fighting to win from here on."
I set aside the sword for enduring, and take up the sword for victory.