Those Who Surpassed the Wall
Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s ear twitched as he gripped his Hainan-style long blade.
Kukukung—.
From far off came the rumble of a pavilion collapsing.
Once again that monstrous Geom-ak-pa-san seemed to have unleashed the Pa-san Scripture.
The faint clash of weapons and the screams that drifted on the air mingled with the rising sun’s sharp rays, weaving an atmosphere that felt suddenly unreal.
“So… the ones who burned my fleet alongside you were the Water Ghosts of the Sword Family?”
Against the backdrop of his own blazing ships, Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s abrupt question was answered by Tal-myeong-gwi-geom.
“That’s right.”
Water Ghosts—water demons. The name given to the Luoyang Sword Family War Department’s specialists in riverine combat.
“…I see.”
Acrid smoke blanketed the little pier. Sa-hae-hyung-sal smiled bitterly.
“When we first sailed up the Yellow River I thought it might be a chance to turn the Sword Family’s Water Ghosts into real water ghosts… but it seems not.”
Not the southern seas. Not the great ocean. He had never imagined his fleet would meet its end on a mere river.
“Just the usual grandiose, empty dream of stupid pirates.”
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom answered every question, yet his tone was so blunt he made no effort to hide his contempt.
By contrast, Tang Baek—chain sickles in both hands—said nothing at all, watching Sa-hae-hyung-sal with a bleak, empty gaze.
“So, Tal-myeong-gwi-geom. Weren’t you supposed to be dead or retired?”
“Ah, fuck.”
The repeated question twisted Tal-myeong-gwi-geom’s already fierce face into something even uglier, like a malevolent spirit.
“I just told you I wasn’t—”
At that instant, ash-laden wind from the burning fleet caught Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s wild hair and sent it streaming.
Sseuk—.
A slash that seemed to split space itself.
There was no time to call back the swords floating in the air.
Had Tal-myeong-gwi-geom thrown his head back even a fraction later, he would have become a permanent guest of the underworld.
And at the same moment—
Taaang!
A bullet punched cleanly through the empty air right beside Tang Baek’s head.
Without so much as a glance behind him, Sa-hae-hyung-sal had drawn a pistol hidden in his sleeve by pure instinct and fired backward.
Had anyone other than Tang Baek of the Sichuan Tang Family—master of ambush by hidden weapons—been standing there, a bullet would have buried itself in his skull before he even understood what had happened.
It was a near-perfect surprise attack, fully worthy of the infamous reputation Sa-hae-hyung-sal held even within Sapaecheon, no matter how thoroughly cornered he was.
“Fuck, this bastard—people are talking here…!”
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom snatched his swords into a two-handed grip and spat curses.
Tang Baek, wariness sharpened, had already stepped two paces farther back than before.
Yet it was Sa-hae-hyung-sal—the one who had launched the ambush—who broke out in cold sweat.
Shit…!
They counterattacked even while the ambush was landing?
A shallow cut ran across the skin of his neck, a thin line of blood trickling down. The pistol he had fired with his other hand already lay on the ground in two pieces.
“Tsk tsk.”
Instead of alarm, a tongue-click of mockery escaped Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s lips as he looked at his opponents.
“Is that all the famous masters can manage?”
His eyes curved in open ridicule.
“Both of you are has-beens now.”
Geudeuk.
Whether the grinding of teeth came from Tal-myeong-gwi-geom or Tang Baek was impossible to tell.
“That so? Then die today on a has-been’s blade.”
What was certain was that the killing intent of the two enraged masters erupted like a storm, and their attacks crashed toward Sa-hae-hyung-sal without a moment’s delay.
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom’s unique sword art — Asura Five Yin Extremes
One-Soul Life-Severing
Blades so ferocious they fully justified his other title, the Five-Sword Madman, howled in to carve Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s body into pieces.
Qi-Dimming Ghost-Slaying
The chain sickles in Tang Baek’s hands split the dawn light as they flew to cleave Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s skull.
Perfect!
In that instant of absolute crisis a smile rose to Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s lips.
I’ve been waiting for this…!
Both hands already locked on his long blade, he spun as if to suck Tal-myeong-gwi-geom and Tang Baek into a whirlpool.
Life-Seeking Absolute Art — Whirlpool Form
A movement that mirrored the irresistible vortex of the open sea.
Through that desperate technique…
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom’s savage swords hungered for Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s flesh yet tasted only a smear of blood as they scraped past…
and Tang Baek’s chain sickles merely sheared off a fistful of wild hair with a soft snick.
Now…!
Using the rotational force of the Whirlpool Form, Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s Hainan long blade—loaded with tremendous power—flashed.
Profound Art — Single Scorch
His prized strike, stolen and reinterpreted from the secret blade arts of the Hainan Sect.
In a single fleeting instant Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s long blade shredded the surrounding space into dozens of fragments…
Yet even after delivering a near-perfect counter, Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s face twisted.
There had been no satisfying feedback from that all-out blow.
It was not that he had merely torn clothing, nor that he had grazed them by a hair’s breadth and felt regret.
His blade had simply carved empty air.
Fuck…!
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom and Tang Baek had never been inside that interval to begin with.
They had only leaned their upper bodies forward as if charging in, feinting, then pulled back instead.
“What are you doing all by yourself?”
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom’s mocking words slid into Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s ear just as one of the swords he had released earlier opened a long gash across Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s thigh.
“Heup…!”
With Tang Baek’s low shout of focus, the chain sickles he had likewise left behind tore open Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s shoulder.
“Keuhok…!”
Even through the searing agony of the wounds Sa-hae-hyung-sal clenched his teeth and flashed his long blade once more.
Profound Art — Tide-Cutting
As though arm and blade had momentarily lengthened, the slash swept a far wider range than the previous attack—yet
“You’ve been putting on a one-man show since earlier.”
Another of Tal-myeong-gwi-geom’s swords stabbed into the opposite thigh as if alive, and Tang Baek’s chain sickles moved like snake heads to tear fistfuls of flesh from Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s waist.
Their bodies, if anything, had drawn even farther away from him than a moment before.
“You… you damned bastards…!”
Curses burst from Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s mouth.
Those two masters, each at least ten years his senior, had never actually been provoked.
They had never intended to close in at all.
They had only pretended to take the bait and charge, luring Sa-hae-hyung-sal into the large movements of his own techniques.
“Hey, you.”
Under Tal-myeong-gwi-geom’s mockery Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s long blade howled viciously, carving the air around him.
Within the interval that blade dominated, he was confident no one could stand against him.
“Got any more of those arts you stole from the Hainan Sect?”
But if the opponent never entered that interval in the first place, the confidence was meaningless.
“Keuhok!”
The edge of a chain sickle raked across the fingers of the hand gripping the long blade, slicing them open in a wet spray.
“Kuaaak!”
Even while those fingers hung in the air trailing beads of blood, Sa-hae-hyung-sal launched several more attacks—yet
“No final secret art or anything?”
From the beginning their weapons—telekinetic swords and chain sickles—held an overwhelming advantage in reach over a long blade, and they had no intention of surrendering that edge for even a heartbeat.
“Uwaaaaaaak!”
Roaring something between a scream and a battle cry, Sa-hae-hyung-sal charged straight at Tal-myeong-gwi-geom.
In the process he had to bat aside all five of Tal-myeong-gwi-geom’s swords one after another.
“Keuak…!”
Tang Baek’s chain sickles mercilessly filleted the exposed back of the pirate as though slicing sashimi.
The most ferocious sword of the Sword Family—called a Madman—and the head-collector of the Tang Family—known as the Blood Wind Emissary—simply used heads as cold as their blades to nibble away, little by little, at the weaknesses of an enemy forced to overextend.
“You… you… dog bastards…!”
By now a complete wreck, Sa-hae-hyung-sal staggered backward step by step.
Bright crimson blood dripped and spattered onto the planks of the pier.
“To fight like this…! Have you no pride as masters?!”
The end of the pier was drawing near. There was almost nowhere left to retreat.
Behind Sa-hae-hyung-sal now lay only the rough waves of the Yellow River, shattered by the dawn sunlight.
“Pride?”
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom guided his swords through the air, shaking Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s blood from their edges as he sneered.
“Then what pride as a master did you have when you plundered poorly armed merchant caravans and kidnapped innocent, powerless commoners to sell as slaves?”
At those words Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s face flushed crimson and he found himself momentarily speechless.
“That was just business. Don’t spout nonsense, Tal-myeong-gwi-geom! At least a warrior of the Sword Family should face me fair and—”
“Hey.”
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom gave the sword in his hand a little shake.
“You might want to watch your back.”
At that, Sa-hae-hyung-sal halted the stealthy retreat he had been making toward the very edge of the pier.
His original plan, once driven to the end, had been to leap into the Yellow River and fight with the water arts in which he held greater confidence—perhaps even find a chance to escape.
But now his senses caught the presence of figures suddenly surfacing, one after another, from within the Yellow River itself.
“The Sword Family’s water-ghost bastards…!”
In the end those who had burned even the last pirate ship attempting to flee had gathered here.
Silent, short swords clenched in their teeth, they had already formed an encirclement in the water. Their numbers exceeded several dozen.
No matter how confident a master might be in water arts, diving in would be pure suicide.
“…Fuck.”
Cursing at the sky, Sa-hae-hyung-sal slid his long blade back into its scabbard.
His stance dropped low. The rough river wind seemed to be drawn in toward him as its center.
With the left hand that had lost all its fingers he clamped the scabbard against his arm for stability; his right hand settled lightly on the hilt as though cupping a flower petal.
“…Hooh?”
The ghostly aura that rose from a posture that had abandoned all lingering attachment to life drew an admiring murmur from Tal-myeong-gwi-geom.
“Fine. If this is your last blade in the living world, it’s worth receiving.”
All five of Tal-myeong-gwi-geom’s swords returned to their scabbards. He planted one foot firmly forward, drew a single blade, and assumed the reverse-grip draw stance of the left-hand reverse sword.
“Come.”
No shout. No telltale surge of intent.
No greed. No thought.
No one had given a signal, yet beneath the dawn sun the weapons of both men were drawn almost simultaneously.
Profound Art — Ghost Spirit
It was beautiful.
The most perfect draw of his entire life.
Yet the blade Tal-myeong-gwi-geom drew a fraction later was somehow already cutting through Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s waist first.
Sword Family Secret Sword — Flash Shadow Instant
Evil King Predation
A counter-technique of late start yet first strike, one blow to kill.
Before he could even grasp the true nature of the most abstruse sword art in Sword Family history—born from the hand of the First Young Master Yeon So-hyeon—
Tang Baek’s chain sickle, bursting from the shadows like a phantom, severed Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s neck.
Thud.
Sa-hae-hyung-sal’s head struck the wooden planks of the pier.
Thud.
The body that had lost its head and was already half-severed at the waist simply crumpled where it stood.
Tal-myeong-gwi-geom looked down at the head and gave a short snort of laughter.
“I was a has-been, was I? This is the new sword art I just mastered, you bastard.”
He had pretended otherwise, but it seemed Tal-myeong-gwi-geom had been holding that grudge inside after all.
Fresh Blood Fleet — Annihilated
Sa-hae-hyung-sal — Fallen
From the distant city streets a faint cheer of victory drifted on the wind.
It was the end of the battle for the Valley of Sin.