The Extinction Sword Broken

It was a Mutual Destruction move — a strike wagered on everything.

The gray sword qi hurtling toward his heart registered in Namgung Cheon's eyes.

Dodge it, or drive straight through it.

In that sliver of an instant, his choice was made.

I won't dodge.

There was no retreat on the path of the Heavenly Demon. That, if nothing else, had been his battle.

Namgung Cheon drew his internal energy up even harder and poured it into Changcheon. He ignored the chill that was burrowing toward his own heart — and instead staked everything on a single certainty: that he could sever his opponent's neck a heartbeat faster.

"…!"

Mujin's eyes wavered.

He had loosed this strike believing Namgung Cheon's sword would stop. If neither of them yielded, they would trade throat for heart and die together.

A brief hesitation. And that hesitation made Mujin's blade tremble at its very tip.

Shwaak—!

"Kgh…!"

Mujin's sword grazed Namgung Cheon's left shoulder. The strike had aimed for his heart, but the wavering tip did no more than open a wound there.

And the price of that tremble was clear. Having lost the psychological duel, Mujin had forfeited his one chance to turn aside Namgung Cheon's blade.

"Hah!"

Twisting on instinct, Mujin wrenched his throat — the fatal point — out of the blade's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠path.

Sweok—!

Namgung Cheon's sword cut a line across Mujin's chest. With a sickening sound, crimson blood surged up like a fountain.

"Kuhk!"

The scent of each other's blood swept thick across their nostrils.

Tatak—.

Almost in the same breath, the two men withdrew their blades and fell back.

"Heh… hahaha!"

Laughter burst from Mujin's mouth. The free-spirited wanderer who had roamed the world was gone; in his place, a fighting spirit long held in check bared itself at last.

"Yes — this is it! This is what makes a fight worth fighting!"

Hwa-reureureuk—!

As if in answer to his cry, a hollow ash-gray sword force bloomed up along his blade.

Namgung Cheon, too, spoke without sparing his bleeding shoulder a glance.

"It's what I hoped for."

Kwaaaa—!

And from Changcheon as well, a blue sword force erupted at last, blazing like fire.

Sword force against sword force. Two Transcendent Realm masters had finally bared their true hearts — and in that moment, two figures clashed head-on once more.

Kwagwagwagwang—!

The instant blue and ash-gray sword force collided, a destruction so pure it defied all comparison swept over the riverside. With a thunderous roar the river split open, baring the sodden riverbed that had not seen light in decades. The great boulders along the bank crumbled to dust as the shockwave tore through them, and the reed fields went up in flames.

But their battle had only just begun.

"Good!"

Mujin swung his sword with a laughter verging on madness. His ash-gray sword force no longer moved defensively — it revealed instead a vicious nature, a will to return everything it touched to nothingness.

Kwagwang—!

When his blade carved through the air, it left a massive gouge in the earth.

"Now you're finally worth watching."

Namgung Cheon, too, turned even the pain of his bleeding shoulder into exhilaration as he swept Changcheon through the air. His blue sword force was the very image of a domineering path that split the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heavens and cleaved the earth. Each swing sent tremors rolling across the ground.

Kwajik! Kwadeuk!

The clash of two supreme masters destroying everything around them had long since reduced the distant onlookers to terror-frozen statues. This was power that soared far beyond anything they understood of martial arts.

Dozens, then hundreds of exchanges followed, and neither side gave ground easily. Namgung Cheon's overwhelming destructive force was repeatedly nullified by Mujin's uncanny power of extinction, while Mujin's sneak counterattacks were blunted again and again by Namgung Cheon's beastlike combat instincts.

But time favored Namgung Cheon. The longer a battle of attrition stretched, the more it came down to how efficiently one could wield experience and internal energy — and Namgung Cheon possessed both the experience of a lifetime lived as the Heavenly Demon and the senses of a wild beast.

And so, as the fight climbed toward its peak, the gap between them began, little by little, to show.

The ash-gray sword force that had been receiving Namgung Cheon's attacks wavered, ever so slightly, for the first time.

That instant of tremor. Namgung Cheon did not let it pass.

He raised Changcheon high above his head, then brought it crashing down in a vertical stroke with the force to end everything — a blue lightning bolt that split the world itself.

Just as that blue annihilation descended upon Mujin—

"Kraaagh!"

Mujin wrung out every last scrap of strength he had and lifted his sword to meet it.

Kwagwagwagwang—!

The sword force that erupted where the two blades met expanded in an instant, swallowing everything around it.

Chi-iik—!

When the heat of the collision touched the river, the water flashed into steam with a roar, billowing up in a violent white column. Then, as if to fill the sudden void, the river surged in from both sides with ferocious momentum.

Kwaaaaa—!

The two currents slammed together at the center, shoving against each other until they rose into a colossal pillar of water that flowed backward into the sky. Then the soaring river lost its strength and came pelting back down as rain.

And after a moment — when all the water that had leapt skyward had soaked back into the ground—

Namgung Cheon was still standing, sword held firm in his grip. His whole body was a patchwork of wounds and his breathing ragged, but his eyes still burned sharp and clear.

Cheolgeureong—.

The shattered remains of Mujin's sword slipped from his hand and fell lifelessly to the ground.

Kureok.

He vomited blood and slowly crumpled. The ash-gray sword force that had wrapped his blade was already gone without a trace.

Kung.

At last, his knees struck the earth.

"…."

Along the bank, the crowd that had watched it all unfold could not find a single voice. The disciple of Nangwang, wielder of the extinction sword that existed only twice in all the world — that legend had come crashing down before their very eyes.

And the man who had cut that legend down. The Sword Ghost. No — even that name now felt somehow insufficient. The power he had just displayed had crossed beyond the realm of ghosts entirely.

Everyone had seen it: that Namgung Cheon's mastery had already reached the Transcendent Realm, the very boundary of human limits.

The shame of the Sword Emperor Namgung Mugang. The third young master of the Namgung Clan.

Like an old set of shackles, the titles that had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bound him scattered into the wind off the river — and there was no one left who dared call him the shame of the Namgung.

Hundreds of eyes turned toward Namgung Cheon.

Under the moonlight. The back of a man standing utterly alone amid a ruined riverside. Not the shadow of the Namgung, but an absolute sovereign who had laid the strong of Anhui beneath his own two feet by his strength alone.

When the stillness returned, all that remained on the riverside was the ragged breathing of two men and the soft patter of falling blood.

Namgung Cheon slowly straightened himself and looked down at the wound on his shoulder with numb detachment — the mark left by a strike that had gambled on killing them both. He pressed the artery shut to stem the bleeding, tore his ruined sleeve into a long strip, and bound the wound tight.

Then he walked, unhurried, toward the defeated man.

At his feet, the shattered fragments of Mujin's sword glittered in the moonlight.

Mujin, kneeling with his head bowed, sensed the footsteps and laboriously lifted his face. His clouded eyes took in the figure of the victor.

With a trembling voice, he forced his mouth open.

"My extinction… has been broken. My master told me never to lose to anyone…"

Kureok.

He coughed up a mouthful of dark blood, then looked up at Namgung Cheon and asked,

"That final strike… it was clearly a form of the Changgung Muae Sword Art, and yet the transformation woven within it was nothing like the Namgung style I know."

Namgung Cheon regarded him in silence. In his eyes there was neither a victor's arrogance nor pity for the defeated — only the bare minimum of respect owed to a man who had wagered everything and crossed blades with him.

"It is simply my own path of the sword."

A short answer, spoken with complete sincerity. It was enough.

Mujin asked nothing more. Instead, he burst into an empty, exhausted laugh, as if the answer had dissolved every question he carried.

"Heh… heheh. Yes. A path of the sword… I gave my whole life to walking that one road, and yet only now do I understand how narrow and shallow my own well was."

There was no humiliation of defeat in his eyes. What filled them instead was awe and release — the glimpse of a higher realm beyond the wall that had blocked his path all his life.

Extinction. His sword, which returned all things to nothingness, had met today — for the first time — a wave greater than itself, and it had broken. But within that breaking, he had glimpsed a new road.

"Truly worthy of the name Sword Ghost. No… even that falls short, I'd say. Well — it was a fine spectacle."

With those final words, Mujin pitched forward, his strength spent. He had lost consciousness entirely.

Namgung Cheon gazed down at him for a moment. The wounds he had left looked fairly deep. So he approached and pressed Mujin's arteries to stop the bleeding ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— the least courtesy owed to a strong man who had fought him with everything he had.

But even with the bleeding staunched, he could not simply leave the man here. The extinction sword that existed only twice in all the world — with him unconscious like this, those who coveted his life would surely come swarming.

Namgung Cheon turned. His gaze swept across the hundreds of onlookers who had retreated far up the bank — the very people who had come to watch him.

"…."

Wherever that gaze touched, people bowed their heads or stumbled backward without realizing it. Not one of them dared meet his eyes. An absolute silence hung over the bank, one that no one could break.

Within that crowd, Namgung Cheon was searching for another set of eyes — the ones hidden behind the awe and fear directed at him.

There you are.

His gaze stopped on a single point in the crowd. The man wore the plain garb of an ordinary traveling merchant, but no disguise could fool Namgung Cheon's eyes. He was one of the Namgung Clan's.

Namgung Cheon spoke quietly in his direction.

"You, there."

His voice was not loud, but it rang out with perfect clarity across the silent riverside. The shoulders of the man he had singled out went rigid, and as the truth of being caught settled in, his face drained steadily white.

Namgung Cheon pointed his chin at the unconscious Mujin and gave his order.

"Take this man to a physician."

At the command, the watcher scrambled out of the crowd and prostrated himself on the ground.

"I-I shall carry out your orders!"

Namgung Cheon turned away and set off in silence along the bank. His gaze passed over Hefei's glittering night skyline and settled on the direction of the Namgung Clan estate he had left behind.

Nine duels, and the tenth, final battle to the death. He had set out on this campaign to prove his mastery of the martial way — and tonight, in this place, that proof was complete.

One face rose in Namgung Cheon's mind. His mother — and the true master of the Namgung Clan now, in all but name: Jegal Hwa.

The words she had thrown at him on the day he left the estate. It had been a kindness — because that was exactly what he had wanted from the start.

A wolf, she says.

A cold smile touched Namgung Cheon's lips. Wolves ran in packs — but he had seized everything he had alone. The road ahead would be no different.

I'll show you.

That my answer is different.