The Heaven-Slaying Sword

༺ Second Chapter – The Seductress and the World Beyond (8) ༻

 The moment stretched into infinity.

 For Mok Riwon, that was the only way to describe the feeling of the world slowing down as his sword sliced through human skin, the muscles beneath, and then bone. The adrenaline rush sharpened his senses and altered his perception of time.

 His pinpoint pupils fixated on the fresh blood splattering into the air, and then, something triggered.

  Thump–

 His heart pounded.

The tip of his sword trembled.

 And his breath quickened as an electric current ran down his spine.

 –Suppress your desire to kill.

 These sensations needed to be suppressed. They needed to be ignored, crushed, and their existence denied.

 But, the sensations tasted so sweet.

 “Keugh…!”

 At Pyosan’s suppressed groans, Mok Riwon felt pleasure.

 His thoughts quickly imagined the following.

 The severed wrist holding the kodachi, Pyosan’s last weapon, falling to the ground with a clang, leaving him unable to resist any further.

 If he cut his ankle to knock him down, then thrust his sword into the middle of his calves and dragged the blade up to his thigh, escaping would be impossible.

 He would be too busy screaming in pain and thrashing about.

 What’s next?

 Ah, after stabbing and ripping through the back of his elbow, severing his shoulder as soon as he began writhing should be perfectly acceptable.

 Although his lower arm would already be gone, he would undoubtedly be experiencing an excruciating, burning pain in his elbow and pitifully scream out in agony.

 Those thoughts kept entering his mind. Different ways to inflict pain on his opponent came and went without end.

 It happened in the blink of an eye. All of those thoughts had taken only a split second before the blood from the severed arm splashed onto the floor.

  Drip–

 The sound of blood hitting the floor entered Mok Riwon’s ears, and he came to his senses.

 “Ah…”

 His breath caught in his throat.

 In that fleeting moment, seeing a helpless human, he realized the nature of his own desires and became frustrated.

 ‘…Suppress it.’

 Telling himself that, he clenched his teeth and straightened his trembling sword, glaring at Pyosan.  

 The same clenched teeth and glare were directed straight back.

 Yet, there was still no despair in his eyes.

 ‘I am a martial artist.’

 As well as a righteous swordsman. Therefore in the face of an enemy, what had to happen was an honorable duel, not pleasure-indulged delusions.

 Mok Riwon, wanting to live in such a way, extended his sword.

 It was his final sword technique intending to incapitate him.

 However, there was a noticeable gap in his basic form from when his concentration had broken to cool his overheated mind.

 Pyosan, seeing an opening, covered his remaining hand with a dark blue qi and struck the side of Mok Riwon’s sword.

  Claaang–!

 The loud sound reverberating throughout revealed the expected outcome, and Mok Riwon’s inferiority.

 His sword flew into the air.

 It was inevitable.

 Aside from his innate martial talent, Mok Riwon was significantly outmatched in terms of their internal cultivation alone. As an early-stage Peak Realm practitioner, he could not compare to Pyosan, who stood at the very pinnacle of the Peak Realm.

 It was the first weakness shown by Mok Riwon since their positions were reversed.

 Pyosan spun his body and extended his foot.

 ‘Waist.’

 Sensing the incoming attack, Mok Riwon swiftly swung his hand and firmly grasped the ankle targeting him.

 Relying on his instinctive talent, Mok Riwon executed a counterattack that captured and immobilized his opponent.

 Using a grappling technique, he performed a complex maneuver and twisted his wrist with such force that it spun the ankle joint beyond its natural range of motion, breaking Pyosan’s ankle.

  Crack–

 Pyosan’s ankle was crushed.

 “Aaaaaargh–!”

 It was the end of his final struggle.

Pyosan screamed in agony as he collapsed to the ground from a sudden burst of pain. His ankle twisted in excruciating pain, and his mind went blank.

 But even in the midst of the suffering, he still had doubts.

 ‘How!’

 How could such a thing be possible?

 How had all of his attacks been read?

 It was an unbelievable situation.

That man was just a greenhorn, barely at the threshold of adulthood, while he was a seasoned expert who faced countless storms in the martial world.

 The one who should be rolling on the ground and screaming was that man.

 “Huff…!”

 The man just looked down at him with the face of a malevolent, bloodthirsty demon.

 “It’s over!” Mok Riwon exclaimed.

 Pyosan glared at him with bloodshot eyes.

 At the appearance of the man picking up his sword while dark qi flowed out from him, and the sight of him turning the tides of battle and then looking down upon him.

 The scene shown by the victorious man was undeniable.

 ‘Talent…!’

 This was the cruel reality of this unforgiving martial arts world.

 Humans were truly deceitful creatures.

 The moment Pyosan realized his defeat was certain, what emerged in his mind was not guilt from failing to carry out his orders, nor being humiliated as a martial artist, but anger towards reality.

 Clench–

 Pyosan gritted his teeth so hard that blood seemed to be leaking out, gazing sharply at Mok Riwon, who had finally begun to calm that exhilaration and exhaled.

 Another voice emerged in the silence.

 “Young Hero…?”

 It was Hwa-seo.

* * *

 It was an unbelievable sight, one that Hwa-seo never expected to see in her lifetime.

 ‘Pyosan…’

 He had lost.

 Those ever-gloomy eyes that had always dragged her into despair, the vestige of her past that once seemed unbreakable, was now pathetically rolling on the ground.

 In front of that defeated figure stood a man.

 His breathing was unsteady, blood dripped down from every inch of his body, and a dark qi was flowing out from him.

 Hwa-seo finally realized why he had been so confident.

 ‘…The Peak.’

 A martial artist at the Peak Realm.

 The scene he showed her seemed too absurd to be true, yet the undeniable reality.

 He was a martial artist who had already reached the realm of superhumans.

 “…Young Lady.”

  Flinch–

 Hwa-seo’s shoulders trembled, her gaze blankly drifting towards Mok Riwon.

 “What did I tell you?”

 His face, still fierce from the remnants of battle, softened into his usual smile as Hwa-seo looked at him straight in the eyes.

 “I don’t see myself losing, you know?”

 It was a beautiful, bright smile.

 Hwa-seo felt something welling up inside her.

  –A hero does not lose to a villain. That’s a line from the first chapter of Tales of the Martial Heroes, spoken by the Sword Hero.

 Truly, he was embodying the truth of his words with his very being.

 Long-forgotten emotions stirred deep within Hwa-seo, deeply touching her heart.

 “From now on, nothing will bother you, Young Lady.”

 Her throat tightened.

 It happened when she heard his words, during the moments of reflection after his departure, and even when she made up her mind to come here.

 He was so shining and upright that she felt ashamed of herself for having hoped not just for victory, but for him to desperately struggle.

 “…It seems so.”

 Hwa-seo forced a smile.

 When Mok Riwon’s qi subsided, she stepped forward to stand before him. At the same spot was Pyosan, glaring at Hwa-seo with a twisted expression.

 “Young Lady. This will not be the end…”

 “Young Hero.”

“Hm?”

 “Would you take care of my children and the remnants of the Sun Society? I have some things to discuss with this man.”

 As Hwa-seo cut off Pyosan’s sentence and made her request, Mok Riwon nodded.

It wasn’t just because she had asked, but her face which seemed to be bearing too much, suggested it was best not to interfere.

 Mok Riwon’s back faded into the distance.

 Hwa-seo looked down at the disastrously mangled-up Pyosan and murmured.

 “It seems you are human after all, seeing you lying there so disgracefully.”

 The emotions that surfaced on her face as she spoke were a mix of emptiness and resentment.

* * *

 There were memories so painful that merely recalling them was agony. 

 “Child, you will become the leader of the next generation.”

 There were moments so bittering that merely thinking about them ached.

 “Your grandfather will definitely make it so. I will make you the Unrivaled Under The Heavens.”

 Hwa-seo hated being locked up.

She hated dark places where she could only rely on a few candlelights to see.

 And she hated the suffocating stench that filled the air.

 Perhaps this inclination had led her to run a courtesan house as the Pavilion Lord, who always observed the entire city from the highest floor, with nothing to block the sunlight, filled with the smell of powder and alcohol that numbed her sense of smell.

 Those must have been the reasons why she did this.

 “Child. Did you know? On that day of bloodshed, we lost far too much. We became the heroes who defeated the Blood Demon and saved the martial world, but we had to lose so much for mere prestige.”

 “Grandfather…”

 “The martial world is merciless. It is also fickle. Though we have attained such great renown, without the strength to defend it, we are constantly on the verge of ruin.”

 “It hurts so much…”

 “That is why you must rise. You must prove to them. That we have not yet fallen.”

 Hwa-seo knew that the look in his eyes could be called stubborn, or perhaps… madness.

 “…You must prove that this Sichuan Tang Clan will never fall, that it is an impregnable fortress.”

 Hwa-seo knew just how ugly an old, sick man’s delusion could become.

* * *

 Hwa-seo knelt down and extended her hand, placing it on the chest of Pyosan, who was gasping for air on the ground.

 “Is the Clan Head in good health?”

 “That is the question that comes out of your mouth?”

 “But, aren’t we blood?”

 “You have no shame…!”

 Pyosan’s eyes flashed with anger.

 Hwa-seo met his gaze, her lips quivering. There was something she had always wanted to know, and she pondered how to ask him.

 However, she struggled to find the right words.

  And so, what came out of her mouth was resentment.

 “Do you not pity me?”

 “Pity? How could you, Young Lady, be pitied? How can you be resentful after receiving such privilege?”

 Her resentment would not reach him.

 Hwa-seo laughed bitterly.

In the midst of that, Pyosan continued speaking.

 “You do not understand, Young Lady. The enlightenment you received is something countless martial artists can not even dream of!”

 “I did not want it.”

 “Still, you should be grateful. With that, you…”

 “I lost my childhood.”

 “And in losing that, you gained immunity to all poisons!”

 Pyosan screamed out.

 The words, uttered desperately as if gasping for air, sank deeply into Hwa-seo’s heart. But Pyosan’s reaction was only natural.

 Talent.

 Environment.

 As a martial artist, Hwa-seo, heir of the Sichuan Tang Clan, had everything one could desire. She had the opportunity to learn the finest martial arts from the greatest masters, consume all sorts of spiritual medicines as her heart desired, and the ability to achieve realms that others could only dream of as easily as breathing. Yet, despite all of this, she still indulged in such petulance. How could it not be frustrating?

 “Poison immunity! It’s not just anything, it is immunity to all poisons! All of the Tang Clan’s poisons… No! Every poison in the martial world can be contained within one’s body with this Supreme Law of the Heavens! How can you not feel grateful toward the Clan Head for bestowing such a gift?”

 “I’ve said it time and again, I did not want it.”

 “No! You should want it!”

“Should I be grateful to someone who has filled my body with poison instead of blood?”

 “Of course! It’s only natural!”

 Hwa-seo found herself at a loss for words.

Had she been on the run for too long?

That was when she remembered what she had forgotten.

 ‘…Right, that’s what they were.’

 The Sichuan Tang Clan was heartless.

 Even towards their own kin, they showed no mercy.

 They desired only results.

 “A despicable clan.”

 “What?”

 “Isn’t it obvious? The clan’s policy is to repay kindness twice over and revenge tenfold. And yet, what they practice is such an inhumane technique, no different from the Unorthodox Faction. If this isn’t despicable, what is?”

 An undisguised rage emerged on Pyosan’s face.

This foolish martial artist, who knew nothing but loyalty, was incapable of questioning his clan, so Hwa-seo did not bother persuading him further.

 She simply took action.

  Ssshhh–

 A dark green light swirled around Hwa-seo’s hand.

 The pinnacle of the First-Rate Realm.

It was a technique that could only be performed by someone who had begun to grasp the essence of qi waves.

 “Did you say that it was a blessing? That I should be grateful?”

 “W-What are you…”

 “Then experience it yourself. The pain I feel every living moment.”

 The dark green qi wave seeped into Pyosan’s chest.

 In that moment.

 “Keugh…!”

 His eyes widened as if they were about to rip open, and he groaned.

 “Kuhuk…!”

 The poison qi spreading from his body through his veins was unmistakable. The searing heat, throbbing, and sharp pain tore all of his thoughts apart. He could not even writhe in pain.

 “You won’t die. It’s not that kind of poison. The poison qi will probably fade by tomorrow, so hang in there.”

 Hwa-seo said with icy cold eyes.

Then she removed her hand and stood up, gazing towards the distance. The screams of the Unorthodox Path fighters could be heard through qi detection.

 It was surely Mok Riwon and her subordinates cleaning up the Sun Society.

 “That foolish man said something.”

 “Kuhup, keuk…!”

 “He said that those who have not sinned do not need to run away, and that it is the villain who must be punished. Therefore, there is no need to run.”

 She was not expecting a response from him. Hwa-seo was merely spilling out her restless thoughts to solidify her resolve.

 “Tell this to the Clan Head.”

 Hwa-seo smiled as elegantly as ever and continued her sentence.

 “I, Tang Hwa-seo, will no longer run and hide from you.”

 She spent her life in fear and had run away.

 Yet nothing had changed, and still, she could not escape her past.

 So, she no longer wanted to run.

 Even if they said she was chasing a futile romance and that they were merely ideals and dreams, Hwa-seo had found her reason to hold onto such idealistic dreams.

 “If there is such a thing as righteousness, then it is the Clan Head who will be punished.”

 It may have been a naive romance, perhaps even a form of chivalry.

 But because of that, it suited her.

 Hwa-seo was finally ready to face the nightmare that had haunted her for a long, long time.

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