Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Part 6: Descent
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There was one topic that martial artists, who loved comparing themselves to others, and enthusiasts obsessed with the martial world always talked about.
They had long wanted to systematize the realms of martial artists.
Just like grading tea or fabrics.
To cut to the chase, that attempt failed.
Using the amount of internal energy as a standard,
or the point at which one could emit qi externally,
or even combat prowess as the benchmark—
none of them worked as a reliable measure.
Combat prowess seemed the most viable standard, at least.
But as mentioned earlier, it was a failure.
Combat ultimately hinged too much on individual matchups.
So the effort to finely categorize ranks collapsed, leaving only one standard behind.
The Wall.
Every martial artist, as they grew, eventually hit a point where their progress slowed, facing a single wall.
Those who overcame it gained strength akin to becoming a different person in an instant, opening new paths for growth.
Thus, people naturally called those who crossed the wall "experts."
* * *
Se-ah’s escort, Gyu, had sensed defeat the moment she saw Geumju.
Unlike herself, who had barely reached the wall, the power Geumju displayed was unmistakably that of an expert who had crossed it.
“Still, I have my pride. I won’t go down that easily.”
Above all, she had to protect her lady.
She was the escort.
“One Sword, Stance.”
Her sect taught that raising the sword into the starting form was equivalent to the first sword strike.
It signified the mind and body perfectly shifting into combat readiness the moment the stance was taken.
In an instant, Gyu’s aura changed.
With her eyes sharpened to their limit, she saw Geumju kick off from the half-collapsed building.
'Coming...'
What saved Gyu was the instinct honed from countless real battles.
'...now!'
She simply followed her instincts, deploying her footwork, as Geumju shot toward her like a beam of light, grazing past and slamming into where she had stood.
'Crazy...!'
She dodged the direct hit, but the shockwave from Geumju’s strike cratering the ground battered her.
Gyu didn’t resist the shockwave; instead, she let her sect’s wondrous footwork carry her body with it.
She judged.
Geumju’s first attack was overwhelmingly powerful, and a second one wouldn’t follow immediately.
Even so, she prepared her strongest possible defense.
Four Swords, Mist.
This sword technique was the profound art of defense, dominating and blocking the enemy’s surface area.
And once again, her instincts proved spot on.
The two strikes piercing through the dust cloud were halted by "Four Swords, Mist."
“Ugh!”
It was a defense fueled by pouring in her internal energy.
But Geumju’s two strikes delivered shocks that nearly twisted Gyu’s wrists and shoulders out of joint.
The footwork she’d used without properly checking behind her, combined with the aftermath of the attack, had also slammed her into a wall—another blow.
But...
“Hoh?”
She had bought some time.
Geumju emerged from the dust, swinging her crimson whip-spear.
“Not bad?”
As Gyu had judged, Geumju’s arrogant nature meant she wouldn’t vent her frustration without exchanging a few words first.
But Gyu moved contrary to her own judgment this time.
Two Swords, Torrent.
A technique that severed the flow of the opponent’s attack to suppress them, then countered using that momentum—an integrated offense and defense.
'Damn, integrated offense and defense my ass...'
Dodging the strike Geumju threw while feigning conversation was her limit.
No, even deflecting it was impressive.
That strike had an unpredictable, bizarre trajectory.
“Wow, you’ve got some real skill, huh?”
Geumju shook out her wrist, genuinely impressed.
'Bare hands?'
Gyu couldn’t comprehend it.
She’d thought it was a whip or meteor hammer type of weapon.
Otherwise, that unpredictable trajectory made no sense.
How could a human arm with joints move like that?
“Hey, when someone compliments you, say thanks. What rude bitch.”
Of course, Gyu, back in her starting stance, didn’t respond.
Deep down, she wanted to drag out the conversation to buy even a little time.
But wasting breath chatting with an opponent so clearly superior would leave her as good as dead in the next moment.
'The problem is...'
Whether talking or not, her limits were closing in.
The issue was overusing her internal arts consecutively, which consumed massive amounts of energy.
“No answer?”
This attack’s trajectory was unpredictable too.
Yet she blocked the grotesquely twisting strike due to favorable matchup.
It was the result of Two Swords, Torrent harmonizing with Gyu’s exceptional instincts.
“Answer me.”
Once more.
'Damn it...!'
Combat should ideally balance internal and external arts.
But the gap in skill forced her to rely on internal arts back-to-back.
That continuous use was doubling her energy drain.
'How many more can I endure?'
Her wrists were already numb, her shoulders and waist felt like they’d snap.
Her dantian felt empty.
“Fine, good. Block this one too.”
"......!"
Killing intent pierced her body like a spear.
But this attack had no visible trajectory at all.
'Four Swords, Mis—...!'
Her energy wouldn’t flow.
The excessive internal arts had overloaded her meridians.
“Kyaaak—!”
Yet Gyu’s body took no damage.
The shrill scream wasn’t Gyu’s—or Geumju’s.
The girl who blocked Geumju’s strike aimed at Gyu’s back tumbled across the ground a few times, then sprang up.
She waved her fist, clad in a gauntlet, toward Gyu.
A stunning beauty.
“Kept you waiting? Reinforcements!”
“You filthy worm!”
“Sojeo, watch out...!”
Geumju’s next strike was blocked by yet another.
“Whoa...!”
It was a bear of a man.
His face grim, he said,
“This is one hell of an opponent. Wonder if we’ll walk out alive.”
The girl clenched her fist.
“Together, we can win!”
Thanks to them buying time, Gyu recovered from her meridian overload and joined them.
“We can’t stand against her. No more reinforcements?”
The girl pouted at Gyu’s firm words.
“For now, it’s just us.”
Gyu clicked her tongue briefly.
“No choice then.”
Geumju sneered at them.
She crooked her finger toward them.
“Done chatting? Come at me all together, you worms.”
* * *
Se-ah had taken shelter by the on-site commander and successfully sent reinforcements to Gyu.
“...No more available martial artists we can somehow support with?”
“Not possible right now.”
Se-ah’s expression darkened.
“Team 3, Team 10—major losses, retreating!”
“Support request from Team 17!”
The moment Geumju appeared on the front lines, for some reason, the Black Bone Gang’s morale skyrocketed absurdly.
“Raaargh!”
A mere thug impaled on a blade charged wildly, swinging an axe recklessly.
Regardless of whether the one ahead died, or if they themselves would, they charged—and charged again.
Disregarding even their own lives, it was no longer morale; it was madness.
“Eek!”
Then Se-ah saw the hulking martial artist facing Geumju get flung away.
One of his arms was gone, his body a ragged mess.
“...No!”
Before Se-ah’s scream finished, the beauty was blasted back too.
“Kyaaak!”
Fortunately, her injuries didn’t look severe, but she’d taken a hit to her dantian—her face pale, blood streaming from her mouth.
Only the battered Gyu remained.
Without retreating an inch, she raised her trembling sword to bar Geumju’s path.
Even from that distance, the pathetic shaking of her blade was visible.
“Gyu, run!”
In the chaos, Se-ah’s voice couldn’t have reached her.
Yet Gyu looked precisely toward Se-ah’s position.
As if wanting to etch her lady’s image into her eyes one last time.
'My lady...'
Geumju, standing before Gyu, raised her hand, visible qi coalescing in it.
Then darkness came.
Se-ah felt the white breath from her mouth grow thicker.
She sensed the wind shift direction.
Her sweat-soaked back chilled like ice.
As if entranced, she stared into the direction the wind blew from.
She wasn’t alone.
The on-site commander relaying orders beside her, the aides—all froze, gazing the same way.
The Black Bone Gang members charging madly, the Crescent Moon Pavilion operatives poised to swing their blades—everyone halted.
Even Geumju condensing qi in her hand, Gyu bracing for the end, the martial artists struggling to rise—
All fell silent.
All looked one way.
The west.
The red sun rapidly sank behind distant mountains.
Twilight stretched endlessly, blending into deep darkness.
In that dim landscape, tall buildings barely clung to the sunset glow.
The roof of the tallest tower.
There, the "darkness" slowly raised its head.
Those watching shuddered with chills.
Even the boldest here trembled in fear; even the most optimistic despaired.
'...Night.'
Se-ah sensed it unconsciously.
'Night has come.'
The darkest, coldest, cruelest night had descended upon them.
The darkness atop the roof flapped its wings violently, like a bird taking flight.
It was thicker, darker than anything.
A complete absence of light.
With one flap, night engulfed the streets.
Like the ferocity of the fiercest beast, the curtain of darkness spread in all directions.
The fleeing sun vanished completely.
Yet no moonlight or starlight pierced it.
Every space brimmed with thick, clinging darkness.
The darkness poured out like a torrent bursting a dam, sweeping past the onlookers.
'...White mask.'
That pitch-black darkness bore a face mocking the world.
Only that white mask, sneering at the powerless heavens and the villains fearing nothing, gleamed desperately.
He looked down upon them all.
“Were you waiting for me?”
The voice, like boiling molten iron, didn’t register as words at first.
Laden with ghostly yin energy, it clawed into ears, shredded eardrums, reached the brain—and became meaning.
Everyone there heard it.
Se-ah trembled uncontrollably yet couldn’t tear her eyes away.
'That... that thing...'
The white-faced reaper,
the practitioner of the eternal demonic art Controlling Darkness, Shaking the Heavens Scripture,
the Dark Heaven Venerable, revealed in full.