Shattered Convictions (2)
The clash of swords echoed without end. I struck down the blades closing in from every direction and swung my own in response. My merciless sword scattered the blood and flesh of the Demonic Cult warriors. I charged at those who had hastily retreated, giving them no respite. As I swung my blade with ferocious momentum, one sword finally failed to withstand the force and flew far into the distance. At the same moment, a blade wrapped in sword qi hurtled toward my back.
I didn't bother dodging. Instead, I simply stamped my foot once. The air grew heavy, and his form staggered for an instant. Seizing that opening, I drove my sword qi into him, sending him flying into the distance. The standoff resumed once more.
The Demonic Cult warriors were covered in large and small wounds across their entire bodies, especially their torsos. In comparison, my injuries were minor. It looked like I held the advantage in this fight. They were panting for breath, while I was not yet at that point. One of them hadn't even recovered the sword that had flown away earlier and remained disarmed.
But that was only how it appeared on the surface.
Keeping my gaze sharp in every direction, I swung my sword once more. The disarmed warrior, apparently untrained in fist or foot techniques, helplessly left himself open. Before his comrades could rush in to block me, more cuts—both large and small—appeared on his body. Yet he did not die.
Yes. That was the problem.
Defeating them was no issue at all. Each individual was weaker than me, and their coordinated techniques had lost any advantage against me—they were now nothing but a hindrance. And yet, I could not bring myself to cut them down with my sword.
Whenever I tried to wield a killing blade, the remnants of my past rose like ghosts. No matter how hard I tried to kill them, no matter how I swung my sword, the usual sharpness, speed—none of it would manifest. It was as if I were blocking myself.
I had already missed dozens of opportunities. It seemed I would continue to do so. In that case, I would be the one to die. Jegal Soyeon and her companions would fall first, and in the ensuing standoff against more than ten opponents, my inner energy would eventually run dry and I would perish.
“Haa...”
I couldn't cut them down. Perhaps it was the twisted sense of righteousness I sensed in their hearts, the strange kinship it stirred in me, or the malice they directed toward me. In the past, I wouldn't have hesitated like this.
It couldn't be helped. My conviction was already a shattered conviction.
.
.
.
The me of the past felt not the slightest guilt or hesitation toward slaughter. My state of mind had justified it all. Prove yourself as justice through power. That was my conviction. My foundation. My state of mind. It was something indispensable to any martial artist who had glimpsed a higher realm.
Because of it, slaughter had been part of my strength—a means to prove that I was justice itself.
But now I realized it was wrong. It was not justice. Now it was nothing more than a shattered conviction. It no longer worked for me; it only filled me with intense revulsion and obsession.
“...Damn it.”
That was why I could not stain my sword with blood. Why I could not reap anyone's soul. Even in this fight where it was either me or them who would die, my sword grew duller and slower with every passing moment. This made me only half a martial artist—or less—but it couldn't be helped. So I had dragged out this stalemate.
“Something’s off.”
At the end of the long standoff, the Demonic Cult warriors seemed to realize that something was strangely wrong. The atmosphere shifted. The one who had recovered his weapon spoke up.
“That bastard isn’t using any killing moves at all.”
He pointed at me with his chin and once again assumed the opening stance of the Sama Eight Swords. One of the warriors—a particularly small-statured one—who had been listening closely to his words, spoke up.
“At this rate, we’ll just keep staring at each other forever.”
He pulled his sword far back, making it easier to charge. He even leaned his body forward and completely dropped the arm that wasn’t holding the sword.
“Everyone, from now on, we stop defending.”
The demonic energy unique to the Cult warriors flickered at the tips of their blades. They completely released their body-hardening techniques and focused all their inner energy solely on their sword tips. The skin of all four men turned pitch black—a side effect that appeared when using the Sama Eight Swords with more than a certain amount of inner energy.
The God-Slaying Heaven-Shattering Sword surged forth.
—BOOM!
The speed and power were completely different now. Black sword qi rampaged from every direction. Since they had abandoned all defense, there was nothing to avoid. The attacks closed in relentlessly from all sides.
—BOOM!
—BOOM!
I was blocking with my sword, but honestly, it was pushing my limits. The Shinsal Pacheongeom managed to offset some of it, but only that much. It was a sword style meant purely for attack, after all. Moreover, once I pushed the speed to its extreme, it became a technique even I, the user, could no longer fully control. Trying to track and control the blades with dynamic vision made every muscle in my arms and legs feel like they were about to explode.
This was dangerous. I had already been cut four more times. The blades were gradually drawing closer to my vital points. Beyond the chaotic storm of sword qi, Jegal Soyeon’s side didn’t look good either. Her once-white clothes were now soaked crimson with blood, and their formation had completely collapsed. They were each facing two opponents.
“...Please.”
If I could just move one more inch. If I swung my sword just a little more, the enemies left completely defenseless against my attacks would lose their lives instantly. Even if not, in my normal state I could have subdued them in the blink of an eye.
I stepped forward with the Jintcheon Shinbo. With a single stride, the Demonic Cult warriors’ bodies staggered. I kicked them away and broke free from the encirclement. But they immediately pressed in again. Since I couldn’t inflict fatal wounds even after they had abandoned defense, they no longer saw me as a serious threat.
“To think someone with only that level of skill can’t kill a single person. How laughable.”
The small-statured warrior approached with a sneer. He closed in for close-quarters combat while swinging his sword qi. I lightly pushed his blade aside and moved endlessly backward, making sure the three who had fallen back earlier couldn’t catch up.
The pressure no longer came from all directions, but the anxiety remained just as intense. If things continued like this, I would fall. My inner energy was down to only twenty percent.
Sowoon, you need to judge this coldly.
I repeated the words to myself and tried to cool my head as much as possible.
“...Right.”
I couldn’t kill them. So I would stop trying to. I swung my sword with brutal force. The slash of sword qi swept across the battlefield, shattering two trees and sending the small-statured warrior flying. I had struck his leg precisely, breaking it. Even if he practiced demonic arts, at the Peak Realm, a broken leg would prevent him from standing properly.
“How pitiful that you still don’t understand the value of human life.”
This wasn’t murder. For me now, the answer was subjugation.
The two warriors closing in from both sides remained still. I didn’t dodge. I simply swung my sword. I made my sword qi as thin as possible and battered every part of their bodies except the vital points. Although one of their swords stabbed into my left shoulder blade, since my sword hand was the right one, I ignored it and kept swinging. I sealed off the legs and arms of both warriors, then charged again to face the last one.
He must have seen the other three fall, because he had taken a proper stance. “Too late,” I said. But his skill was slightly lacking, and in his miserable physical condition, he couldn’t stop me alone. I struck his joints and broke them as well.
Seeing that even with broken legs they refused to stop, I left them behind and ran toward Jegal Soyeon’s side. First, the one in the worst condition—Jegal Soyeon herself. She was nearly on the verge of death. I blocked the sword that was about to strike her down and immediately smashed the attacker’s wrist, forcing him back.
“Stop your bleeding and catch your breath for a moment.”
She nodded. Unable to wait, another sword came at me, but I unleashed a slash that drove it back. I swung my sword again. The warrior who had retreated from my blade struggled to block my sudden onslaught a few times before it became too much. He tried to flee by pulling his body back. I immediately stopped my attack and stood still. The warrior paused for a moment, seemingly wary of the strange behavior, but then he was struck by the following barrage of sword qi and sent flying into the distance.
“I only broke his arm. I didn’t kill him, so watch out for surprise attacks.”
Once I made the decision, it didn’t take long. Her escort warriors had already managed to defeat one of their two opponents and were finishing off the last one. The battle was over.
A single sigh of relief passed through the once-silent forest.
“Please wait a moment.”
Though exhausted, I was surprisingly the one in the best condition, so I stood up. Dragging my legs, I returned to the earlier battlefield and dragged something back with me. Jegal Soyeon, who was desperately trying to stop the bleeding on one leg and one arm, looked at it and asked.
“That is...”
I threw it roughly onto the ground with a thud and stomped on it as if kicking it. As I crushed the dark, filthy thing beneath my foot, I spoke again.
It was the bastard who had said, The smell of blood is nice. Just a blood-crazed piece of trash. The fact that I couldn’t easily kill even someone like him felt ridiculous. Strangely, treating him this way didn’t make my chest ache.
“He’s a friend who will tell us the full story of this incident.”
I tapped his broken leg a few times and, infusing it with inner energy, brutally crushed his pressure points. I hadn’t touched his vocal organs, but bone and muscle separation was still bone and muscle separation. A scream rang out.
“It might be a bit gruesome, though.”