The Weight of the Sword
"That sounds entertaining."
I had heard the news that Dokryong and Sowoon were going to spar. Just as he had said, I never imagined a twenty-five-year-old would actually try to fight children, but Dokryong exceeded all expectations. In my previous life, he hadn't seemed so immature. Perhaps that had been the aftereffect of enduring the storms of war. Thanks to that, I decided to step out for a while and spread out a seat beside the training ground to watch. It had been half a year since I'd last seen such an amusing spectacle.
"Young miss."
Yuhwa appeared cautiously at my side and asked, her face clouded with worry.
"Yuhwa? What's wrong?"
I tilted my head, puzzled as to why she wore such a concerned expression.
"Shouldn't you stop Young Master Sowoon?"
Stop Sowoon? Why would I? He had agreed to it himself, and his opponent wasn't particularly difficult... Ah, perhaps she wasn't certain of his skill.
"Young Master Sowoon is impressive, but his opponent is Dokryong..."
So that was it. I offered a single remark to ease her worries.
"Dokryong is a poison user, isn't he? It'll be fine."
"Yes. That is precisely why I believe we must worry. Poison is far more dangerous than one might think. One misstep, and he may never return..."
Ah. I see.
"Ah. You don't know, do you, Sister?"
That there existed those blessed with bodies that would never experience the great suffering of chronic poisoning in their lifetime. Such a special constitution appeared at most once per generation—rare enough that she likely couldn't even imagine it.
"Then you'll understand once you see it."
No matter what I said, she would probably remain anxious. She wouldn't believe in the Myriad Poisons Immunity, and even if I claimed resistance to poison, she would still worry. So I simply advised her to watch and believe.
"Even if the greatest poison master in the world came, he wouldn't be able to defeat Sowoon."
I still remembered it vividly. Even I, who had considerable confidence in my poison resistance, had needed a special antidote pill to enter the Tang Clan's poison net in Sichuan. Yet there had been a swordsman who swung his blade as if it were nothing. The art of neutralizing the Mountain-Spreading Poison, which could not be detoxified until its toxin was drawn out by feeding on blood.
Even if I couldn't be certain against a poison master on the level of the Heavenly Demon, the poison of a mere Peak Realm expert could never reach him.
"What do you mean by..."
Just then, a Tang Clan martial artist approached and handed me a round detoxification pill, sternly warning that I must keep it firmly in my mouth.
"It seems they're about to begin."
I placed the pill in my mouth and bit down. Feeling the clear fragrance spread through my mouth, I waited in silence for the clash between the two to start.
...
"It reminds me of the old days."
In the past, when I was in the Demonic Cult, I had once tested my skills against a poison user in a similar setup. He was called the Black Poison King. Dressed in an excessively long robe, stroking his long black beard while making sinister cackling sounds—it had felt so distasteful that I had beaten him thoroughly.
"Heh. Finally, I get to see it. The Sword Net."
Dokryong's laughter was quite sinister as well. It reminded me of the Blue Sky Sword Empress, leaving an unpleasant feeling. However, I couldn't beat him as thoroughly as I had the Black Poison King. If I reduced Dokryong to a half-dead state, the Tang Clan would bear a grudge against me regardless of that poison-worm doctor. Even if we needed the Tang Clan's help in the future, their stubborn elders would never permit it.
Still, I gave him points for how much he despised the Demonic Cult. Even if he seemed a bit lacking in the head, he would surely contribute more than his share when fighting the Demonic Cult. Enough to serve as a life lesson.
"Dokryong must not use extreme poison, and must detoxify immediately upon the end of the spar. Furthermore, Sword Net must not inflict injuries so severe that recovery becomes difficult."
Unlike the sudden spar last time, this was a properly planned, official match, so there was a mediator. Kang Uk, a Changgung Sword Squad member I had met several times since then. Seeing this, it seemed the Changgung Sword Squad was deployed for far more matters than I had thought.
Holding up a red cloth and a blue cloth in an uncharacteristic manner, he declared.
"Life-and-Death Duel. Begin."
With that, Dokryong's sleeves began to flap widely. A green mist seemed to spread from within those sleeves. Poison fog. As I quietly watched it spread to a certain extent, Dokryong spoke to me.
"Thank you. For waiting until I finished releasing the poison."
At the same time, something golden shot out from Dokryong's fingertips with rapid pops. I swung my sword to create a strong wind and pushed them away before they could reach me. Golden needles. Probably coated in poison.
One.
"As expected, this is fun. You're far stronger than your age would suggest."
With those words, Dokryong began to move from his position. As the poison fog spread toward me, I sprang to the left, and Dokryong scattered something. Hidden weapons. To block the projectiles flying in from all directions at precarious angles, I unleashed the Shinsal Patcheongeom. Caught in the sword wind or struck by the blade, the hidden weapons fell to the ground. However, some that didn't veer off grazed my body.
Two.
"...You, poison doesn't work on you?"
Whether the symptoms of the poison he had detoxified earlier hadn't appeared, or whether the poison on the hidden weapons was instantaneous, Dokryong looked flustered. As if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, he scattered poison again to confirm. I swung my sword. With just that, most of the poison energy scattered. A little touched me, but of course, it had no effect.
"Three. It's over."
One needle, one hidden weapon, one poison. The courtesy of a senior in the martial world granting three exchanges to a junior. Although my body was that of a ten-year-old and my skill differed from before, I possessed overwhelming advantages and experience, so it was only right to uphold that courtesy.
Dokryong seemed to have caught the meaning behind my words, for he grinned and said,
"So you were going easy on me?"
Before I could affirm that question, poison needles rained down from the sky like a downpour. I could have avoided them by lifting my feet just a little. As if he had anticipated that, two hidden weapons flew toward my ankles. I used a small step of the Jintcheon Shinbo to drop them without anyone noticing.
"Good. Good. Now let's do this seriously!"
"Then here I come."
I took one step. However, I didn't advance any further. I simply began swinging my sword from that spot.
"...Sword Qi."
Someone said those words. A translucent Sword Qi rose from the tip of my sword and cut through the air. At first, like the movement of the sword, it wasn't very fast. Unlike my usual style, it was slow enough to follow with the eyes. However, as the sword grew even faster, the Sword Qi also advanced rapidly. A bizarre sword style where each strike became difficult to follow with the eyes, yet the later strikes rushed in faster than the earlier ones. A selfish sword that no one had ever been able to fully block.
"Ugh."
With a groan, Dokryong took one or two steps back. He immediately concentrated poison energy in both hands and unleashed his Poison Hands, but it was only natural that he couldn't completely block it. His waist, both arms, both legs—every part except the vital points was cut. There was no longer any need to fire Sword Qi indiscriminately. I unleashed the sword style I was most confident in.
"Hahaha."
He moved his eyes busily here and there, desperately trying to follow the tip of the sword. He unfolded his Poison Hands and blocked my sword in a precarious manner. However, the arms that received the sword were gradually being cut as if they were rags. Yet he showed no will to dodge, to the point where if I had intended it, I could have severed his tendons with a single slash. He simply smiled brightly as if everything was enjoyable and did his best to savor the battle.
But watching that, my heart couldn't help but feel heavy.
".... It's light."
His martial arts were light. I didn't know why. Was it because he thought that since the future was predetermined, martial arts were secondary? Or was it simply because he found primal pleasure in shedding blood? However, since martial arts were not meant merely for obtaining pleasure, I felt pity rather than a sense of threat from his Poison Hands. As someone who had once taken my own martial peak lightly and wielded it wrongly, only to regret it in the end, I felt a sense of kinship.
"...Dokryong, I have a question."
I paused the exchange for a moment. When I stopped my sword, Dokryong, breathing heavily, said,
"Ask."
His hands were tinged with a green hue. He revealed his palms and unleashed a poison palm strike. But since my body was immune to poison, it only felt like being hit by a solid fist.
"The reason you're doing this spar—is it truly just for fun, nothing more?"
Dokryong seemed to ponder for a moment before nodding and declaring proudly,
"Of course. The feeling of surviving in fights where blood splatters and necks are on the line—that gives me joy."
No. That won't do. That won't do at all. It was a thought more befitting the unorthodox factions. His martial arts should not be like that. He was the young master of the Tang Clan. He would become a righteous martial artist leading the Sichuan Tang Clan in the future. That future had already been seen by Namgung Seha, so there was no doubt. Someday, he would walk the correct path. But would it be the same this time as well? He was walking a tightrope on a precarious line. On the thin yet thick line between righteous and demonic, he was barely standing now. In his original self, he entrusted his body to righteousness. But what if the new wingbeats we created pushed him toward that distant path? I was worried. So—
".... From now on, I'll proceed a little differently."
—I changed my sword.