Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Against the Soul-Stealing Sword
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Behold.
What is that in front of you?
A beast.
A beast I've never seen in my life.
Soul-Stealing Sword No Ha-cheon curled the corner of his mouth obliquely. He swung the sword he gripped tightly without mercy.
He had come for a mission, but the tip of his blade had found its thrill. Now, he was so immersed he couldn't refuse even if he wanted to.
A sword this vicious wasn't something you saw every day.
He had to savor it fully to quench his bloodlust!
Soul-Stealing Sword
Four Confusions, Two Demons
A bluish flame erupted along the sword's trajectory. What dwelled within it was everything stolen from the enemy.
Senses. Muscle power.
Stamina. Even internal energy.
He seized it all and used it as fuel to swing his blade. Two powers dwelled in a single sword, drawing out explosive damage.
If struck, it would shatter and break.
This domineering sword shone ever brighter the longer the fight dragged on, without fail.
But...
-Kaaaaang!!!
What should have broken did not break.
What should have fallen did not fall.
"Urhaha!"
It was blocking his sword. The beast before his eyes, drenched in its own blood, still stepped forward.
A step pushing into the crossroads of life and death.
Because it did not fear death, it prolonged its life. Look. How sharp is that sword grazing its jaw?
Sharp.
-Sharper than any sword he'd ever seen!
This one was real.
Truly...
Intending to defeat Soul-Stealing Sword No Ha-cheon!
"Soft!"
His excitement surged. He gripped the sword in reverse.
He changed his technique on the spot. His opponent's eyes widened.
Without giving time to prepare, he lashed out.
-Crack!
The sound of blood and flesh bursting. The opponent's form slammed into the wall.
He gave no opening. He charged right after.
Even half-severed necks had reattached before. So this time, he'd simply tear off the limbs.
It would die. As a human, it would die. Even if not, he could render it helpless.
From the way it had picked up its own severed arm, it seemed it couldn't reattach without some artificial force.
If he tore off all four limbs, it wouldn't walk anymore.
Since it was trying to beat him in earnest...
He should show his true self in return!
He cleaved through the cloud of dust. He thrust his sword into the staggering warrior within.
He forcibly ripped off the right arm. The left arm followed suit.
Bluish flames blanketed the air. The opponent dropped its sword. Another arm flew into the air.
-Got it.
The moment he thought that, something smashed into his head.
"Kuhuk?!"
His forehead. A bloody forehead.
The opponent charged with desperate ferocity. Internal energy pulsed in the colliding forehead.
In his momentarily crumbling stance, it twisted its body. It leaped, reattaching the severed arms at the same time.
Its footsteps, spraying blood as it advanced, were subtly faster than before.
It was growing. This guy at the mere entry to peak realm...
Was catching up to him bit by bit?
"...This..."
No Ha-cheon wiped the blood flowing from his cracked forehead with his hand.
"You mad bastard...!"
...
Heavenly Tribulation was screaming.
He could feel it. With his whole body. His regeneration couldn't keep up as his body broke down so thoroughly that even the seemingly endless sword was gasping at its roots.
Pain filled his entire body. The moment he took a step, his dazed head felt like it would slam into the ground.
But he gripped his sword.
His sword... he gripped it.
"What is Pai-myo? It's a countering sword."
The opponent thrust his sword. To block it, I had to vomit out everything I had.
I misjudged the gap, and my nose tip was sliced. Deeply sliced, blood blinded my vision for an instant.
But I trusted my hands. I trusted the efforts I'd built up.
Sword energy exploded from my fingertips. I even drew out the internal energy that was now barely visible.
I drew a line with my sword.
And tore the hem of Soul-Stealing Sword's robe at its end.
"Urhahaha!!"
The opponent laughed. The energy in his sword grew fiercer.
My countering sword was shaking. As if it would shatter any moment.
So I strove not to let it shatter.
"The second form is for power struggles. Friction."
I predicted the next move. My head couldn't do it, so I trusted my senses.
The experience accumulated while being sliced all over. I poured it into my sword tip.
A single path made of pain. I raced along it, reinforcing part of my blade.
They clashed.
-Kaaaaang!!
The shaking sword no longer shook.
"Just how far...!"
I wanted to answer.
But the breath rising to my throat wouldn't even allow words.
Soul-Stealing Sword scattered sword waves. Bluish flame clung to the swung trajectory.
That sword wave from before.
The domineering swordsmanship that shredded my body in an instant.
I immediately raised my sword. Even blocking it again, my body flew through the building.
I flipped my body upright. I seized my trembling legs.
Ignoring the wooden splinters embedded all over me, I roared.
I wanted to win.
I truly wanted to win.
I gripped my scabbard. Sheathed the sword.
Bared my fangs at the approaching foe.
Drive it in. Use something, anything.
Doing nothing would just mean admitting I was wrong.
-Even drag up the bottom of your soul!
"Next is Gu-ak. This one's just a quick-draw technique. A killing blow meant to end it in the first move."
The sword accelerated inside the scabbard. I hurled it out, squeezing every last bit of strength.
It collided. The charging bluish flame tried to swallow my sword through the dirt cloud.
My body was pushed back. Pushed endlessly.
Footprints etched into the ground. Long scorch marks like charred debris dug into my ankles.
But I didn't stop the sword. It shook, but I didn't let go.
I converted the lacking power on the spot.
"The book calls it Piao-lin. I know it as an applied form that spews multiple sword waves like scattering rain."
I deceived the opponent's eyes. The scattered sword waves grazed Soul-Stealing Sword's clothes.
Eyes narrowing for an instant. I pierced that gap.
Advance, Red Cloud.
I win.
I win.
I win.
As a martial artist. As one chasing the Heavenly Demon's back.
I wi...!
-Puk!
My feet stopped. The sword I held halted as well.
I looked down at my chest. A blade piercing my heart.
Soul-Stealing Sword muttered bitterly.
"To cut down a fine successor like you with my own hands..."
The sword was pulled out.
Blood burst forth.
Even the screaming Heavenly Tribulation fell silent.
"Now go in peace."
"...Ah..."
My voice still wouldn't come. I dropped my sword.
How far did it fall? Where is it?
I turned my gaze. I couldn't see it. My vision was too blurred to see anything.
Blood leaked intermittently from the pierced heart. I tried to stop it, but couldn't.
Soul-Stealing Sword raised his sword. Bluish flame swirled at its tip, as if to fully sever my neck.
Despite my efforts, this was as far as I got.
I couldn't close the gap. I endured against a realm so far away for a moment, but it wasn't enough.
But...
But not yet...!
"...Huh?!"
My desperately thrown body dodged the sword wave once more. Soul-Stealing Sword's expression hardened.
"Little brother. You barely have the strength to crawl now. Beg for your life instead. Then... I'll pretend I didn't see you."
"......."
My voice still wouldn't come.
Beg for my life?
Now?
"Admit you were wrong. Cooperate in capturing the Sa Clan head obediently, and I'll show mercy. As recompense for the fun you gave me..."
"No...!"
"What?"
The reason I'm crawling on the ground is simple.
I'm still fighting. This battle isn't over.
Think, Red Cloud. Think of every option you have.
The sword's gone. Nothing left.
Heavenly Tribulation is twisted, unresponsive now. Blood gushes endlessly from the pierced heart.
What about internal energy? Rock bottom? Hands? Can they move?
What's left?
To me...
What's left...?
"......"
I remember.
What I possessed.
What the First Demon called me.
"Still, your grit is somewhat admirable."
I endured.
Endured again.
Kept enduring.
My life had been a chain of endurance. Even now, with death before my eyes, that hadn't changed.
I reached out my hand. Not toward the unseen sword.
Into my blood-soaked bosom, searching for something.
"...Little brother?"
I wasn't wrong.
That's why I took up the sword.
Could the reason I wielded the sword be traded for mere life?
My body had died long ago.
Someone breathed life into that empty shell that day.
Heavenly Demon.
"You shall be beneath this one who soars the heavens. It may not be the highest in the sky, but..."
The reason for gripping the sword remains clear.
The reason for enduring and enduring is clear.
"Those called geniuses will never look down on you again."
So, everything.
...Pour it all out.
-Crunch...!
I twisted open the wooden box from my bosom. I shoved the ice shard into my mouth, fingertips freezing just from touching it.
My tongue froze. Flesh torn away, I couldn't even speak. But I forced it down my throat with all my might.
"What?!"
I fumbled at my waist. The sword was still there. The sword I hadn't drawn from the start. Just hanging there.
The frigid blade that crumbled at a touch. The divine weapon Bing Baek-seol left for the North Sea Ice Palace.
I gripped it with my hand. I braced the floor with a silent scream.
My heart felt stopped. But even so, I'm still here.
Vision blurred, nothing visible. But even so, I'm still here.
Pain incomparable to Heavenly Tribulation choked my throat. But even so, I...
I'm here.
Still gazing at you, Heavenly Demon.
"...I..."
Don't kneel.
Stand, even if by sheer will.
Stand again, using everything given.
"...I..."
What is at the sword's tip?
What remains at the tip of the sword I wielded to win?
"...I...!"
My body screamed. I roared louder to forget the pain.
I rose and fell. I saw Soul-Stealing Sword's frozen expression.
Faintly, everything came back into view. My exhaled breath froze, but Heavenly Tribulation began screaming anew.
What had vanished returned.
The extinguished candle flame reignited.
"I didn't... take up the sword... to beg for life... Soul-Stealing Sword...!"
I stood.
Feeling the cracks etched across my body, burning my entire form.
To advance even for a single moment, I whispered to my distorted vision.
"Take up... your sword..."
I assumed my stance.
Glared obliquely at the enemy...
Gripped the sword I'd practiced countless times.
"If you... don't want to die...!"
Soul-Pulling Thrust.
I seized my shattered soul's end with ice, preparing to charge once more.
What is at the sword's tip?
The answer to that question was simple.
Aspiration and longing.
To grasp what seems infinitely distant, I wield the sword.
Even if death's edge threatens me.
Even if everything whispers I cannot advance.
A martial artist's dream does not end so long as the feet do not stop.
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