Chapter 28
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Translator: MJK
Chapter: 11.1
Chapter Title: Jang Family
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-Clang!-
An Hoe was the first to sheathe his sword.
The moment he did, the demonic aura vanished like a figment of imagination.
“Ugh!”
Just moments ago, the entire area—including even the Blade Lord himself—had been steeped in malice, but it all faded in an instant. The Blade Lord had no choice but to swallow hard.
Setting aside realms of martial prowess, the sheer ability to wield such absurd demonic power at will was worthy of reverence.
“Thank you for showing mercy in your strikes.”
Seemingly oblivious to his inner thoughts, An Hoe instead cupped his hands together in gratitude.
It wasn't merely because the spar had been limited to ten seconds.
No, it was because the Blade Lord had refrained from revealing his secret techniques in this exchange.
As evident from White Wolf's White Wolf Heavenly Flight or Mi Bang's Wind Thunder Divine Sword, the Blade Lord undoubtedly possessed aces of his own.
Had he unleashed them, An Hoe likely wouldn't be standing there unscathed.
'Cunning as a raccoon dog.'
That was An Hoe's assessment of him.
The Blade Lord, as observed through Mi Bang and Mi Ryang, had seemed lesser than the rumors suggested—but that was only because he had cunningly concealed his true nature.
In truth, the rumors he'd once thought exaggerated fell short of reality.
'Well, a man who tried to topple the nation and establish his own royal line could hardly be simple.'
An Hoe figured that if he hadn't revealed his sword ring, the Blade Lord wouldn't have shown his hand even in this spar.
'Fortunate it played out well. Otherwise, fleeing would've been my only option.'
He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for his luck.
“...”
The Blade Lord struggled to find words.
A mere ten seconds, yet more than enough to leave him stunned.
Just as generating sword qi differed from wielding it masterfully, the same held true for true qi.
In some ways, the disparity was even greater.
Of course, greater true qi yielded proportionally greater power.
But no matter how sharp a blade, if it failed to cut, it was meaningless—true qi followed the same principle.
Even vast reservoirs of true qi crumbled before a precisely controlled fraction.
In that regard, An Hoe's sword ring was utterly ridiculous.
A tiny, bean-sized ring that blocked, deflected, and repelled every one of his attacks.
'Had I unleashed the Tyrant Blade, things might've been different...'
Yet it wasn't mere repulsion—the ring had swept away everything around it.
Even so, he lacked confidence in victory.
'This one's hiding aces too.'
The sword ring might be one, but given how casually he summoned and banished demonic aura, there had to be more.
“Phew~. That was a fine spar.”
With a deep sigh, he cupped his hands and sheathed his sword.
He then turned to his protectors, their faces a tumult of shock and fear.
“That's enough. Continuing further would only dishonor Mi Bang.”
“...”
They nodded in silence.
Even those blinded by vengeance could no longer deny it.
Contrary to their assumptions, their Chief Protector had fought like a true warrior to the very end—his defeat far from pathetic.
Thus, as the Blade Lord said, harping on revenge now would only tarnish his honor.
Seeing they had come around, the Blade Lord finally turned back to An Hoe.
“Who are you?”
He posed the same question as before.
But this time, it was a genuine inquiry into his name and affiliation.
Sensing as much, An Hoe smiled and replied.
“Jang Hoe. I'm currently staying with the An family.”
“??”
The Blade Lord hesitated briefly before continuing.
“The Jang family—you mean the one with that tiger?”
“My grandfather was called the Fierce Tiger Seven Swords.”
“This is unexpected.”
“Unexpected how?”
As An Hoe gazed at him quizzically, the Blade Lord stroked his disheveled beard and explained.
“Truth be told, I figured your background would be even more astonishing than that.”
“...”
“The Jang family isn't bad, mind you, but it's too confining for someone like you. Or is that precisely why you're with the An family now?”
“Umm.”
An Hoe swallowed and nodded at those words.
After displaying the sword ring, it was understandable he'd think that way.
A thought then flitted through his mind, and he decided to embrace it.
-Indeed, how perceptive. In truth, I do have another identity.-
“??”
The Blade Lord flinched at the sudden transmission, curiosity soon overtaking him.
His initial intrigue gave way to disbelief, flashes of 'Of course, that explains it' and other complex emotions.
Ultimately, his expression turned grave, and the way he looked at An Hoe shifted.
No longer the wary gaze toward a suspicious mystery man.
It was the look reserved for nobility.
The change was dramatic, yet inevitable for the Blade Lord.
The identity An Hoe had transmitted via inner force transmission tied directly to the tale he'd once shared with his mother regarding Jami Castle.
The world's impending manifestation of the Earth Hero Star, Earth Demon Star, and Heaven Slaughter Star was indeed fact—not entirely fabricated.
It was the stuff of legends.
A seasoned veteran like the Blade Lord would normally dismiss such tales as nonsense.
But in the current context, this absurdity rang truer than anything.
Without bearing such a secret, no such preposterous existence could walk the earth, he reasoned.
It also explained why An Hoe had meddled in Mi family affairs.
'Likely mistook it for something tied to those ill omens.'
Otherwise, why interfere out of nowhere?
Misunderstanding bred further misunderstanding, one lie birthing another.
An Hoe had anticipated the Blade Lord's train of thought and saw no need to correct it.
It was far more plausible than his actual motive for interference.
After a moment sorting through his own misconceptions, the Blade Lord cupped his hands in formal apology.
“My apologies for the misunderstanding.”
“No need. Just keep this under wraps until the time is right.”
“I understand. Is there anything I can assist with?”
“Well...”
An Hoe started to decline the Blade Lord's offer but instead transmitted a request.
Hearing it, the Blade Lord furrowed his brow, then nodded vigorously.
“I'll send it along shortly.”
“Thank you.”
To the grateful An Hoe, the Blade Lord waved lightly before vanishing into the darkness with his protectors.
“Haa~.”
An Hoe watched their retreating figures for a moment before letting out a long sigh.
One source of worry was now resolved.
-Scraaaang!-
-Kaaang!-
From early morning, the rear garden of the An family merchant house's annex echoed ceaselessly with harsh metallic clashes.
It was the clamor from the spar between Black Sword and White Sword, now elevated to the family’s escort warriors.
Having long surpassed two hundred exchanges, their bout showed no signs of ending.
“Haa, haa. Hey! You look beat—why not admit defeat?”
“Huff. Ridiculous. You’re the one gasping like you’re done—call it quits.”
“Haa... Must be exhaustion messing with your eyes. I could fight all night.”
“Huff, huff. I could go all night too! Hah!”
-Kagang!-
They refused to yield to each other.
There was a deeper reason for their hypersensitivity in what was supposed to be a simple spar.
Back in their youth, the loser had promised to acknowledge the winner as elder brother.
These days, they moved as one wherever they went—but their first meeting had been disastrous.
Personalities clashed like water and fire; despite countless bouts, neither could claim superiority, breeding inevitable rivalry.
That feud had persisted to this day.
Now, even a blade to the throat wouldn't make them surrender.
An Hoe watched their intensifying clash while sipping cool honeyed water, a faint smile playing on his lips.
“What fine times these are.”
“...Umm.”
Song Hwa felt it improper for a young master of barely thirteen to say such things, but she held her tongue.
Speaking up would only draw her into one of his absurd ramblings.
Besides, the spar before them was utterly captivating.
Fights were most entertaining between evenly matched foes, and these two fit the bill perfectly.
Both peak masters who had awakened Sword Heart Unity, ensuring a spectacle rich with highlights.
Nor were they the only ones thinking so.
Merchants and staff alike—not just the warriors—watched from afar.
Some were even placing bets.
But not on who would win.
Everyone knew these stubborn sorts would never concede defeat.
The wagers were on how many exchanges until it ended.
Even after surpassing three hundred, they somehow steadied themselves and raised their swords.
With inner energy and stamina depleted, it had become a battle of wills.
Witnessing their desperation, Song Hwa unwittingly swallowed and turned to An Hoe.
“Young master? Shouldn't we stop them?”
“Stop them? Why?”
“What if one gets seriously hurt like this?”
Her concern was valid, but An Hoe gazed at them and replied.
“Song Hwa, watch their movements closely. This is an excellent lesson for you.”
“Pardon?”
Puzzled by his cryptic words, Song Hwa nonetheless obeyed.
-Kang! Kang!-
At first, unsure what to focus on, she watched the increasingly monotonous spar with growing boredom.
As the young master said, their exchanges mostly grazed blades, posing little apparent danger.
Onlookers gradually dispersed, ushering in a peaceful morning.
-Kaaang! Kang! Kaaang!-
Only sporadic metallic rings signaled the bout's continuation.
The bet organizer yawned while tallying exchanges when something odd caught Song Hwa's eye.
“Eh?”
Wondering if she'd imagined it, she looked again—and gasped at the repeated phenomenon.
What she saw was this:
Their sluggish, leaden swings were gradually simplifying.
-Kaaang!-
Then, a blade lunged without preamble, clashing—Song Hwa rubbed her eyes repeatedly.
But it happened again, drawing her fully into their duel.
'As expected, Sister Song's eyes are sharp.'
Of course, keen sight alone wouldn't catch it so soon.
Her attainment in Jade Flower Art had advanced accordingly.
Glancing at Song Hwa, An Hoe smiled while observing how well Black Sword and White Sword followed his teachings.
What they were doing now was another method to train Sword Heart Unity.
When inner force and stamina bottomed out, the body naturally shed superfluous motions.
Repeating this revealed one's chronic inefficiency.
An absurdly wasteful, self-contradictory way of exerting power.
To wield true strength required aligning bones, joints, muscles, blood flow—even skin tension—into a singular, seamless flow.
And when swinging a sword within that flow...
-Kaaaang!-
...immense power could be infused without expending much inner energy.
'By the time they return to the clan, they might even reach composure.'
Alone, it would've taken several times longer.
But their unyielding refusal to lose accelerated the process.