Chapter 223
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 223
Chapter Title: Nine Abyss Gate Opening - 2
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One day, I asked him.
How he could wield divine transformations that would make even Taoists weep, using nothing but a scrawny lump of iron less than three feet long.
He replied,
that he had merely swung it once.
Once, a single sword that made the entire martial world tremble in terror.
Because of it, the moniker Sword Demon was born, designating him the supreme sword of the demonic path.
In life, he forced the Four Demon Sages to their knees with his sword and earned the title Sword Sovereign.
One of the Three Sovereigns of the Divine Cult.
The Sword Sovereign who swung his blade again and again until he sealed hell itself at its tip.
Nine Abyss Sword Sovereign.
"I've always been curious."
The peerless swordsman who swung and swung until he sealed hell within that blade.
And the unique sword style he forged, one that all swordsmen of the martial world admired and yearned for.
What harmony would bloom if he unleashed the Nine Abyss Sword Formula—said to make the divine transformations of hell bloom with a single swing—here, in this mythical land where true hell and the underworld lay beneath his feet?
Today, I finally learned the answer.
Among the three arts I had failed to fully master even in my past life, alongside the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, the true face of the Nine Abyss Sword bloomed at my fingertips today.
"Haha... hahahahaha!!"
Sword Sovereign, Nine Abyss Sword Sovereign—no, Sword Demon.
"You crazy demonic bastard!!"
Well, to be fair, not a single one of the Twelve Divine Demons was truly human.
But this monster, Nine Abyss Sword Demon, was a madman of the ages, right alongside the other three sovereigns.
"How else could he have dreamed of dragging hell up with a mere sword?!"
The Three Sovereigns.
That title of three absolute beings was no exaggeration.
Monsters born in human flesh who dared to surpass the realm of true gods—and ultimately seized that power for themselves.
The true nature of the Three Sovereigns, unknown even to me, was that they were beings who claimed divine might in an age when myths had faded.
"Wh-where... is this...?"
"N-no way... it's similar to what Father showed us...!"
The gates of the Nine Abyss Nine Thousand Hells opened at my command, surrounding everything in all directions.
Yes, this was a divine domain.
The divine domain of the Nine Abyss Sword that sealed hell within a single blade—and the divine domain I had inherited.
The moment I stepped into this hell, I understood.
What this place was, and what I could do here.
What this vibrating sword in my hand had led me to, and what the Sword Sovereign had accomplished when he passed this hell to me in the past.
Reaching mastery by skipping the process and grasping the conclusion directly.
That was the true harmony of a god.
As long as I stood here on this land with sword in hand, it was the hell of the Nine Abyss Nine Thousand Hells.
And with every swing of my blade, the harmonies of the 256 jade prisons boiling in the Eight Torrid Hells and Eight Cold Hells followed me.
The moment I realized this, the sword moved on its own—and the world flipped in its wake.
My steps felt light.
As if I had become the wind itself, a knife-edged gale.
I turned with my sword, taking a single step back.
"Wh-what?!"
"D-don't come closer!"
Aloadae.
With my cleared mind, even without knowing their names, thoughts of Poseidon's twins—said to be invincible against any in the world—sprang to mind.
They had probably been glossed over as a minor episode in some comic book, not a major event. But seeing them up close like this, they were far too massive to fit into a single volume.
Impressive enough that even I had to admit they warranted drawing my sword.
So naturally, my head lifted.
A question I had never once pondered before.
Which was stronger, truly?
Which would prevail?
The blessings of the goddess known as the greatest and most magnificent even in the age of myths?
Or...
The hell of the Sword Demon, the fiercest and cruelest even in the human age?
In my past life, this sword's power had no equal in the human era. How far could it extend here?
I simply couldn't contain my curiosity.
"Don't lie down too soon."
Wasn't this the first mythical adversary to directly experience the demonic sword that even the Volcanic Sect's leader praised lavishly in his dying moments—a blade any swordsman couldn't help but admire?
My feet struck the ground lightly, like the wind.
In an instant, terror clouded those identical twin faces as I closed in.
However...
Just as sinners who fall into hell always do.
It was far, far too late.
Nine Abyss Eight Torrid Hells Sword—First Form.
[Equal Life Blade Wheel]
The sword advanced.
Cleaving through pitch-black darkness, the blade with its razor edge swirled endlessly, enveloping everything.
Hellish winds scattered even millennia-forged steel like chaff and pulverized millennia-old boulders to dust.
The divine domain quaked, manifesting the Blade Wheel Jade Prison of Equalizing Hell.
"Kuh...?"
"Guh...?"
Though invisible, the keen edge struck them so vividly that the Aloadae froze solid, unable even to beg.
-Shraaaarak!
The sound of flesh parting echoed from the relentless sword tip.
Violently surging blood battered the blade, tickling my fingertips.
However...
The dull thud of bone-crushing blows veered off, blocked by something, producing a discordant note.
"Ha!"
Right.
Tough opponents, huh? Just as expected.
This first unveiling of the Nine Abyss Sword's true form, and the primordial gods' blessings were every bit as unyielding.
Normally—no, even against immortal gods, it would have rent bone and all.
Turning once more past the twins, I gazed down at my sword and burst into laughter.
Not a hollow laugh. Probably not a bitter one either.
This joy swelling in my chest was surely the mark of delight.
Finally.
I had found opponents who could withstand more than half of the Nine Abyss demonic sword.
And these young giants surely weren't the only ones.
"Kuh... kuuuuh! Y-you bastard...!"
"Y-you... youuuu! We su-render...!"
The giants, their bodies a mess of blood and wounds from thousands upon thousands of slashes.
Whether the pain had numbed their fear, or some premonition told them staying put might mean death...
They twisted their heads, reigniting battle intent in their eyes as they glared at me—and I turned to face them squarely.
"Thank you."
I meant it.
No matter how precious a treasure one holds, what use is it without someone to recognize its worth?
After crossing long roads and endless ages, worthy opponents to unveil my greatest treasure now stood before me.
How could a martial artist not be grateful?
-Shaaak!
Once more, the sword advanced.
This time, a blade laden with hell and the hope that it might advance for quite some time.
Like a ferry crossing the boundless river, it pressed on without end.
"...Lord Hades."
Jason could only utter the name of the king of the underworld, the wealthiest of all.
This was no longer a fight.
How could a mortal of flesh and blood even establish battle against hell itself?
Jason had endured thousands of deaths bestowed by Dianes and awakened sword insight worthy of a hero bearing divine blood.
Yet even with eyes like his, he could barely track the sword's path.
It was like a dance at times.
Like a ritual offered to the gods at others.
Or like the playful torment of an executioner with a condemned prisoner.
Dianes swung his sword once more.
Kicking off the darkness around him, a blade darker than shadow lunged toward the sinners again.
One swing cleaved a thousand times, one advance stirred darkness and heatwaves that shook the air.
Were those wailing spirits plummeting into the abyss illusions glimpsed in the fringes of that sword wind binding the Aloadae ceaselessly?
-Kiyaaaaaak!
Were those screams choking their breaths from the terrifying twins who had driven them back? Or merely the sound of air tearing under the merciless gale?
Despite the distance, Jason felt his heart might burst, unsure when that blade might reach his throat.
True abyss.
As if Tartarus—the pit for the gravest sinners—lay right before them.
Jason and the Thessalian crew wanted nothing more than to shut their eyes and bury their heads.
For that sword, that power, was beyond anything they could face or endure.
Unless it was Hades himself, warden of Tartarus and overseer of all deaths, who could stand against it?
Yet even so, they stood on their own two feet, necks stiff, unable to tear their eyes from that sword.
That sword, laden with a Tartarus fiercer and more terrifying than the death that had swallowed them...
It ignited a profound ecstasy in their hearts beyond even that fear.
That sword terrifies me.
It scares me to madness!
'But what if that sword became mine?'
No, even claiming it as his own was greedy ambition.
What if he could merely emulate it, even a little?
That fearsome hell.
That immense power.
If even a tiny fragment dwelled in their swords?
-Gulp!
In the silence where the blood winds from hell hushed all around, the sound of dry swallowing drummed in his ears.
Forgetting even to blink, bloodshot eyes fixed unyieldingly on that sword, staking their lives to capture it.
A bit more, just a bit more.
To take in that sword, that hell.
Bursting inspirations enveloped them, hands twitching on sword hilts as they retraced surging insights.
Following the sword trails etched on their retinas, the breaths assailing their skin,
the insights taking root within began to guide their swords.
In this prematurely mythical age, where not even the enlightenment to save the masses had dawned.
The teachings of the demon lord that tempted and led each to ruin began to engrave themselves like blades on the minds of these divine-blooded heroes.
How far that upheaval would spread... even the goddesses of fate could not foresee.