Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Seven Hundred vs. One! (3)
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The Demonic Emperor's Grand Union member who I killed not long ago, Nu Jin-sang, was called the Sword Demon King—a title I'd heard before.
For someone like me, who had no interest whatsoever in the martial world, to remember the title meant it had to be fairly well-known.
The title "Black Sword of Slaughter" also stuck in my memory, so this man must be quite a renowned figure as well.
Famous or not, he's likely just a regional hegemon. My memory is simply so exceptional that I never forget a title I've heard once.
A fight is only worthwhile against someone with a name like his.
Still, I didn't think the Black Sword of Slaughter would be any stronger than the Sword Demon King.
In my estimation, my own martial skill is far superior to either the Sword Demon King or the Black Sword of Slaughter.
I spoke quietly.
"If all of you retreat now, you can save your lives. But if I fight you, I will slaughter every last one of you."
The Black Sword of Slaughter scoffed.
"You've grown arrogant just because you killed a few of my men!"
"Not a few. Over two hundred. Does that sound like a small number to you?"
The Black Sword of Slaughter was at a loss for words, his cheek twitching.
"Are you stronger than the Sword Demon King?"
The Black Sword of Slaughter flinched.
"I have never fought the Sword Demon King."
"Have you heard that the Sword Demon King, Nu Jin-sang, died in a single move from me?"
"Hmph!"
The Black Sword of Slaughter's cheek twitched. His expression betrayed the fact that there was no way he hadn't heard.
"I can kill you in a single move, too."
"..."
"Shall we test it?"
"What do you mean?"
*Snap!*
I snapped off the pointed tip of a blade of grass and waved it languidly.
"I'm going to throw this and pierce the space between your eyes. If you can dodge it, I'll concede defeat."
"What..."
To the Black Sword of Slaughter, this was utterly absurd. There was no way he could be brought down by a mere blade of grass.
But he was keenly aware of one shocking fact: that the Fire Dragon Sword had killed the Sword Demon King by freezing him solid with a single move, the Azure-White Ice Flower.
He had refused to believe his ears when he first heard that Nu Jin-sang had been turned into a block of ice, only to shatter into hundreds of pieces moments later.
At the time, I had spotted an Unorthodox Path warrior hiding on the second floor of the Jaun Pavilion, spying on the events unfolding on the pleasure boat. I had let him live.
He would have gone back and reported everything he saw. I let him go precisely to achieve this effect.
With a look of utter disdain, I made a motion as if to throw the blade of grass.
"Shall we?"
"Hah!"
The Black Sword of Slaughter flinched, thinking I had actually thrown the blade of grass, then clamped his mouth shut like a fool.
I imbued my voice with a hint of internal energy and spoke.
"I will give you all a chance! Those who wish to live, fall back now!"
The enemies exchanged glances, murmuring amongst themselves.
"Those who retreat will live. Those who remain will die!"
As a few men faltered and began to back away, the leaders urgently shouted.
"Do not retreat!"
"This is a ploy to sow confusion! Don't fall for it!"
I said cheerfully.
"I'll count to ten in my head!"
Saying I would count silently was sure to make them panic and flee in a hurry.
As expected, the enemies who had been retreating hesitantly suddenly turned and broke into a full sprint.
"Stop!"
"I'll kill any man who runs!"
The leaders roared, but it was to no avail.
*Shing!*
At last, three of the leaders drew their blades and charged toward their own fleeing men.
Trying to kill their own men. They were as cruel as Cheol Ryu-yeop.
*Whoosh! Thud, thud, thud!*
"Gah!"
"Kagh!"
The three leaders, who had been charging murderously with swords drawn, were struck by something that flew from nowhere. They collapsed with guttural cries.
The Black Sword of Slaughter, his remaining leaders, and the sect heads stared. The three fallen men had holes pierced through their foreheads and throats. Their bodies twitched violently before going limp.
Then they saw it. Blood was gushing from the back of one of the dead men's heads, and stuck there, swaying gently, was a slender green blade of grass.
The blade of grass had pierced the man's forehead and exited through the back of his skull.
*With a blade of grass?*
In that moment, the Black Sword of Slaughter must have recalled my earlier claim—that I could kill him with a single blade of grass. A chill surely ran down his spine.
The Black Sword of Slaughter and his men whipped their heads around to look at me.
I gave them a faint smile.
"So, what will it be?"
The faces of the Black Sword of Slaughter and his men twisted in despair. Fear danced in their contorted features.
This time, it was the leaders of the Unorthodox Path sects who faltered. After a moment of hesitation, they turned and fled as if struck by lightning.
Watching them, the Black Sword of Slaughter's cheek trembled with rage.
"Ugh! Those cowards!"
By the time I counted to seven in my head, the situation had resolved itself.
Before me stood only the Black Sword of Slaughter, two of his lieutenants, and about seventy elite masters from the Zhejiang branch of the Unorthodox Path. As elites, they were a different breed.
They had remained, but their faces were masks of anxiety and fear.
I had told those who wished to live to fall back, and the rest had fled with their tails between their legs.
Out of more than five hundred men, over four hundred and thirty had fled, leaving only seventy or so behind.
I gently tapped the palm of my left hand with the Fire Dragon Sword I held in my right.
"Alright, then. Let's begin."
"Hnngh!"
Cold sweat dripped from the Black Sword of Slaughter's brow.
He now bitterly regretted his own recklessness.
He should never have come here on his own, without orders from the main sect of the Ten Heavens, leading only the elites of the Zhejiang branch and a few hastily assembled subordinate sects.
He should never have harbored the delusion that such a force would be enough to kill this reckless upstart known as the Fire Dragon Sword.
He should have stopped to think when he received the report: that Nu Jin-sang, the Sword Demon Lord of the Demonic Emperor's Grand Union, was dead; that his female disciple had barely escaped death multiple times; and that the hundred elite Sword Demon masters they had brought with them had retreated without a word.
Had he done so, he wouldn't be in this disastrous predicament.
*Hnngh! We are absolutely no match for him!*
The man had killed over two hundred of his men in less than an hour, and his breathing hadn't even become labored.
And that wasn't all. What chance did he have against a man who could kill three charging leaders from dozens of yards away with a single blade of grass? What was he even doing, still standing here?
"Ahem!"
His thoughts racing, the Black Sword of Slaughter cleared his throat and spoke in a low voice.
"I was mistaken."
"You realize that now?"
The Black Sword of Slaughter offered a respectful fist-and-palm salute.
"My apologies for the discourtesy. We will take our leave."
"Did I say you could leave?"
"..."
The Black Sword of Slaughter's palms were slick with sweat.
I said coldly.
"If you take your own life, I will spare your men."
"What nonsense is this!"
Just then, a sharp voice pierced the air.
"You're the one spouting nonsense!"
I immediately pinpointed the source of the voice—the empty air behind the Black Sword of Slaughter—and turned my gaze toward it.
A figure was drifting toward us, fifty feet above the ground.
*A true master!*
My first impression was that of a master. And when I think 'master,' I mean someone far more powerful than the Black Sword of Slaughter.
If first-rate masters were divided into upper, middle, and lower tiers, the Black Sword of Slaughter would be in the upper tier, but he was no peak expert.
But this person, approaching through the air in a perfectly upright posture without moving his legs—no, not approaching, *gliding*—was clearly a peak expert.
The Black Sword of Slaughter couldn't even dream of mimicking such a feat—closing the distance from a hundred feet in the air, seemingly slow yet incredibly fast, without any visible use of footwork or lightness art.
The Black Sword of Slaughter and his men stared up at the figure in the sky, their faces a mixture of shock and confusion; they clearly didn't recognize him.
The figure halted directly above the Black Sword of Slaughter's head and descended smoothly, still in a standing position.
The man had a striking appearance. First, his hair was a shock of crimson red.
His eyes, too, were the color of blood. He wore a long red robe and even his shoes were red.
The finishing touch was the blood-red sword slung across his back, its length far exceeding that of a normal longsword.
One thing was certain: from the beard on his chin and the wrinkles on his face, he appeared to be over sixty years old.
Suddenly, something I had once overheard came to mind.
In the Ten Heavens of the Unorthodox Path, there was a strange master, red from head to toe, known as the Red Evil God Sword. He was the Sixth Heaven.
The Ten Heavens of the Unorthodox Path consisted of ten absolute masters, ranked from the First Heaven down to the Tenth.
The First Heaven, also known as the Grand Heaven, was the Supreme Lord of the Ten Heavens.
If I could recognize the red-haired man, there was no way the Black Sword of Slaughter, seeing him up close, would fail to recognize his own master.
"Ah!"
The Black Sword of Slaughter gasped in shock and immediately dropped to his knees.
"This subordinate greets the Lord of the Sixth Heaven!"
The lieutenants and elite masters all followed suit, prostrating themselves on the ground.
"Rise."
With a crimson face, the Red Evil God Sword rebuked the Black Sword of Slaughter.
"If I were in your place, I would have taken my own life to save my men."
"I was wrong."
"I will deal with your failure later."
The Red Evil God Sword spoke curtly before turning and slowly walking toward me.
The Red Evil God Sword, the Sixth Heaven, should have been a peak expert, yet for some reason, I felt no tension at all.
Perhaps it was because I was stronger than him. That was the instinctual language my body was conveying to me.
The Red Evil God Sword stopped five paces from me and studied my face.
"So, you're the Fire Dragon Sword?"
I was starting to like the name "Fire Dragon Sword," hearing it so often.
"I am the Grand Branch Master of the Dong-ro Branch."
But I stuck to my official title.
The Red Evil God Sword furrowed his crimson brows.
"Grand Branch Master? A Branch Master who is also 'Grand'?"
"You're a sharp one."
"You impudent little brat!"
The Red Evil God Sword's composure didn't last long.
I was getting annoyed. Why were all these unorthodox path types, young and old alike, so rude and foul-mouthed?
Courtesy is reserved for those who deserve it. To do otherwise would be an insult to courtesy itself.
"An old man with no manners!"
I retorted, my anger flaring hotter than his. The moment the words left my mouth, I had a realization.
*I don't need to be swayed by anyone or anything! I am the law!*
"What did you say?"
The Red Evil God Sword looked utterly dumbfounded.
*Don't be disappointed, old man. When it comes to insults, I've got a much larger vocabulary than you.*
"I'm not just fearless. An old relic like you isn't even worth my notice!"
"You brat! Don't you have a mother or father?"
"That's right. I don't."
"Wha..."
I was getting irritated.
"If you're just going to keep spouting nonsense, may I attack first?"
The Red Evil God Sword was truly enraged. He hadn't been this furious in decades.
"You cur! I will personally take this matter to the Heavenly Jade Saint, Hyukryeon Byeok-gyo, and demand she answer for your insolence!"
Sang Gang-jo had told me that the new Alliance Lord of the Martial Alliance was the Heavenly Jade Saint, Hyukryeon Byeok-gyo.
I couldn't care less about Hyukryeon Byeok-gyo, so what good would complaining to her do?
"I'm attacking!"
I was sick of his posturing. I shot forward using the Sky-Soaring Art and unleashed the ultimate form of the Eighteen Stances of Light-Splitting Swordplay.
*Shhhwwwwaa!*
"Ngh!"
By unleashing both the Sky-Soaring Art and the Light-Splitting Swordplay across a mere five paces, I was above the Red Evil God Sword's head in the blink of an eye.
The Eighteen Stances of Light-Splitting Swordplay was exactly what its name implied: eighteen techniques that split light itself.
*Fzzt!*
"Hah!"
As five streaks of pitch-black sword energy erupted from the Fire Dragon Sword, striking down like lightning from multiple angles, the Red Evil God Sword jumped back in alarm.
*Whoosh!*
The attack was so blindingly fast that neither Nu Jin-sang nor the Black Sword of Slaughter could have dodged it. But the Red Evil God Sword retreated in an instant, as if using a ground-shrinking art, and narrowly evaded the blow.