Ten Days: The Fifth Day (1)

The faint plum blossom scent trailed after the white-clad woman as she slipped behind the black-clad man. In the next breath she swung her sword, now glowing with a blue hue, straight toward the crown of his head.

“...I’ll dodge using the Fragrant Marker and aim for the Baihui acupoint with the Changgung Muaegeombop.”

“Without dodging, I’ll meet it head-on with the Shinsal Patcheongeom and target the Inyeong acupoint.”

The man swept his sword outward in a wide arc to clash with hers. The moment their blades met, a tremendous wave of energy erupted between them.

“I’ll retreat two steps to evade, then strike downward with the Emperor Sword Form.”

The woman fell back first, shifted her stance, and brought her sword crashing down. Blue lightning raced along the blade and slammed into the ground without mercy.

“I’ll feint a counter with the Horizontal Sweep of a Thousand Armies, then use the Tanji Gong to strike the Danzhong acupoint.”

The man barely managed a horizontal cut to block the blow. At the same time his left finger flicked out, sending a burst of finger force straight toward the woman’s heart.

“I’ll sacrifice my left arm to the Naryeotagon, use the recoil to rise, and immediately follow with the Lightning Sword Art to target the right wrist.”

Without hesitation the woman threw herself toward the floor. White energy pierced straight through her left arm, yet she refused to collapse in pain. She simply rose again in one fluid motion.

“Then, in that instant, I’ll crush your neck with the Taesan Apjeong.”

But the man was already bringing his sword down on her. She stood completely defenseless. The dark blade hurtled toward her throat.

“...I lost again.”

“Discussing the sword is still worth it since I keep winning.”

“...Even if it’s only a discussion, it is deeply humiliating that the Sword King’s house keeps losing to someone like you.”

Lying on the bed and whining in defeat was the Changcheon Geomhu. Was losing to me really that shameful? For some reason the thought left a sour taste in my mouth.

“Still, the last three days weren’t bad, were they?”

“Well. They were quite meaningful.”

Three days had passed. We hadn’t done anything particularly grand. We chatted about trivial things in life, and somehow the conversation always drifted toward martial arts. When two martial artists spoke of the arts, the topic inevitably circled back to one question: who was stronger. Especially when both were swordmasters representing colossal powers.

We itched to test ourselves against each other right then and there, but unfortunately one of us couldn’t use inner energy. So we settled for discussion sparring instead. As expected, her skill was formidable; we spent hours trading theoretical moves.

“It’s a shame we can’t taste the real clash of blades.”

“...Look forward to the next life for that.”

Still, if anything had been gained over those three days, it was a rather decent friend. She was an entertaining opponent. Our upbringings couldn’t have been more different, yet speaking with her never felt forced.

“No matter how much I think about it, I still don’t understand.”

“What?”

“What on earth was the Demonic Cult thinking, appointing a scoundrel like the Pacheon Divine Army as Vice Leader?”

“Scoundrel… Even if I look like this, I’m still the man who once shared a bed with the Changcheon Geomhu, you know?”

The question was clearly meant to dig under her skin. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠deliberately answered with extra bite. She froze as if struck by ice qi.

“...Do you want to die?”

“No! …Puhuhu.”

Her reaction was too amusing. She looked at me as if I weren’t even human, then rose from her seat with a pitiful sigh and pulled over an empty chair.

“But the person who’s become friends with such a scoundrel is also strange. Right?”

She paused, then slowly turned her head away. With obvious reluctance she gave the tiniest nod.

“...Still, you—”

“Vice Leader, sir.”

Just as the Changcheon Geomhu tried to speak, a man’s voice came from beyond the door. It was the first other voice I had heard in days. A familiar one. And one that absolutely should not be here.

“...Is that the Eleventh Elder, Honsae Mageom?”

I asked softly to confirm his identity, indirectly informing the Changcheon Geomhu who it was. She gave a small nod and stared at the door.

“Yes, it is. I was told through the maids that no visitors were allowed, but the Cult Leader has a message for you, so I have come.”

“...I see. A message from the Cult Leader. I would prefer to speak face to face, but something urgent has come up after ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so long, so that may be difficult. Can you deliver it from there?”

“...You wish me to speak the Cult Leader’s message from here?”

Honsae Mageom sounded incredulous. It was a perfectly natural reaction. The words had openly disregarded the Heavenly Demon’s authority. The Heavenly Demon himself was not overly authoritarian, and other elders might have been flexible, but Honsae Mageom’s loyalty was unmatched. He did not even entertain the possibility of exceptions.

“No, I misspoke. I’ll come out.”

“There is no need. The Cult Leader also instructed me to check on the Changcheon Geomhu’s condition.”

This was trouble. Honsae Mageom was stubborn, but no fool. Even demonic arts, when they reached the level of supreme profound techniques, were equally esoteric; without talent, one could not comprehend them. Having already received the Cult Leader’s command, any further delay would make him suspicious and he would force his way in.

“...Very well.”

I answered calmly, but my mind was racing. The ropes were immune to inner energy. Tying them all by hand in a short time was impossible.

“Enter—”

“Save me… please, save meee…”

Hm? A strange sound? Just as I was about to let him in, a tearful plea came from beside me. I turned my head. The Changcheon Geomhu was the one making the noise toward the door.

“...What is this?”

“I was wrong… I did wrong…”

She repeated the words, then looked at me and jerked her chin toward the door. She mouthed four words in perfect lip language.

Geomhu. Torture. Submission successful. Report.

I understood exactly what situation she wanted to portray.

“Don’t be surprised. It’s that bitch’s voice.”

“If you say ‘that bitch’…”

“The Changcheon Geomhu. The very bitch you said you wanted to see.”

I deliberately laced my voice with weight. Honsae Mageom sounded taken aback.

“The Changcheon Geomhu is saying such things?”

“From the first day until last night I drove her to the brink of death like a madman. Eventually she broke and started begging.”

I added “Pathetic, isn’t it?” under my breath, opened the door, and stepped out.

Long black hair. Crimson eyes. It was Honsae Mageom. His perfectly groomed hair and immaculate robes perfectly reflected his upright nature. That vampire bastard—I felt like beating him until his skin turned white.

“Well, you’ve roughly seen the condition of the bitch you wanted to check on. Deliver the Cult Leader’s message and be on your way.”

“...Understood.”

Honsae Mageom drew a scroll from his robes and handed it to me.

“He said to read it alone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and burn it. I do not know the contents. Then, farewell.”

As soon as his duty was complete, Honsae Mageom turned on his heel and left. I let out a sigh of relief at the unexpectedly simple conclusion and returned to the room.

“...Is your mental state all right?”

“Please pretend you never heard that…”

A single corpse lay collapsed on the bed, face buried in a pillow, ears burning scarlet. It appeared to be the high-level expert known as the Changcheon Geomhu.

“Fine. Consider it a favor. I’ll take the secret to my grave.”

Honsae Mageom had heard, and the Heavenly Demon would soon hear as well, so it probably didn’t matter. I swallowed the words and unfurled the Heavenly Demon’s scroll.

I had to read it. He rarely gave orders in this manner. If he wanted something handled, he would have summoned me directly.

“Let’s see. Two days ago, in Hapbi, the Namgung Clan…!!”

I had begun reading aloud out of habit but immediately shut my mouth. This was not an order. It was a record. A meticulous account of the Divine Cult’s battle. And the opponent had been the Namgung Clan—the family of the Changcheon Geomhu.

I glanced sideways to see if she had noticed, then continued reading with my eyes alone.

To summarize, the Namgung Clan had been wiped out. That was what it said.

It was hard to believe. Of course, with the full strength of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult it was not impossible. One would have to worry more about how overwhelmingly they had won. But who could have pushed such a grand plan to completion in only a single day?

“...The Changcheon Geomhu wasn’t there.”

The martial artist who represented the Namgung Clan was firmly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tied down here. The presence or absence of a single supreme expert could shift the entire battle. With the First Elder leading the assault, the outcome was not entirely unbelievable.

“The third daughter was the strategist of the Alliance, wasn’t she?”

At least she had survived by being away from the family. But even if she lived, it would not feel like living. She was of the Namgung name, yet no longer of the Namgung. Given her role as strategist, she was probably far removed from martial prowess. In truth, the Namgung Clan’s martial bloodline had been severed.

And the fate of a clan whose martial line was cut was already decided.

“...If even one person could survive.”

It would be different. My gaze suddenly drifted toward one person.

That would be even more impossible.

There was no way for the Changcheon Geomhu to survive. Although she had reached great heights in external arts, she was merely at the peak of the Peak Realm. It was nowhere near enough to escape beyond the main mountain. Knowing that, she remained composed. She had already accepted death and was simply trying to spend her remaining time in her own meaningful way.

Should I tell her?

It would be easy. I could hand her the scroll or simply speak the words.

“No. Forget it.”

Hadn’t I decided to let her go comfortably? It would be better to hide such terrible news.

I summoned Sammae Jinhwa with my inner energy. Crimson flames swallowed the scroll. Yet for some reason not even a trace of soot appeared on it.

“He told me to burn it…”

I decided I would hide it somewhere later and dispose of it properly. I tied the scroll firmly inside my clothes.

.... Five days remained until her execution.