Chapter 67

Baekyak shared the insight that the enemies’ tactics were meticulous. And Danwooseong engraved Baekyak’s intelligence into his mind.

Above all, I had never heard of a magical force called the Successors even during the King’s reign. After all, the King never waged full-scale war against magic. It was merely a time when, having become king at a young age, he strove to compete with those bearing the title of Emperor.

Ultimately, destiny would be decided by force once more.

Danwooseong proposed it.

“Miss Baek, it seems the time has come for us to test our skills against each other. Not just a single match, but a detailed contest—as detailed as when I observed every aspect of Lord Baek Moo-jin’s martial arts. For this, I too shall lay bare the martial arts of the Oryo Gate, a sect of the Four Schools, before you, Miss Baek. The martial arts of the Oryo Gate are those of the Fist King; I believe they will also be of benefit to you.”

Baek Yak gazed intently at Danwooseong.

It was no ordinary proposal.

Baekyak spoke with a faint smile.

“Surely you’re not asking me to teach you martial arts?”

“That’s impossible. I’m cultivating the extreme yang energy within me. I’ll never learn ice energy anyway. What we need to understand about each other is the techniques to kill, the methodology of death, the martial arts that lead to death…

These are the things.”

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous for both of us?”

“That level of risk is something we must accept. There’s no need to rush. It’s merely an extension of our martial arts.”

“Understood.”

Dan Wooseong believed this was the way of the White Path. Exchanging martial arts. Of course, it was an exchange utterly impossible within sects bound by formality, procedure, and pride. The Dan Wooseong of his past life was no different. All he had done was shut himself away in the mountains, striving to grow strong alone. The failure of that path had brought him back to death, and now he needed to make the effort he hadn’t made in his past life.

And here before him stood the descendant of the one hailed as the greatest martial artist of all time.

Since they already shared mutual admiration, it was a topic he could broach.

Danwooseong was serious.

If there was a way to become stronger, he wanted to try everything.

If things kept getting blocked this way and progress stalled that way, I was even prepared to dream that damn dream again, just to get beaten all night long by Jin Sohwan and Baek Mujin.

But that was an unrealistic approach, after all.

Baekyak replied simply.

“I understand. I too want to become stronger, no matter what it takes.”

Baekyak was a woman with exceptional pride, yet she couldn’t defeat the young master of the merchant guild in martial arts. Since that had naturally developed into affection, she had no reason to refuse.

Dan Woo-sung extended his hand.

“Then, for now, take it. Start with the inner strength, and the rest will follow step by step.”

Baekyak looked around the reception room as she replied.

“Is this okay?”

“Let’s try to control it.”

Baekyak grabbed Danwooseong’s hand. Since neither had unleashed their inner power, they simply held hands for a moment.

Dan Woosung deliberately gave a sly smile.

Baekyak pulled her hand away from Dan Wooseong’s rough grasp and placed a single finger on his palm.

“I’m ready.”

Dan Wooseong nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Baekyak injected cold energy into Danwooseong’s palm using the White Flower Technique. Danwooseong felt his hand grow icy in an instant as he channeled his internal energy.

A situation where someone who couldn’t control their internal energy might suffer internal injuries.

However, the two gradually increased their power while gauging each other’s inner strength.

Baekyak was also curious about Danwooseong’s level of mastery.

A thunderous energy, as if about to explode, surged from Danwooseong’s heart. Baekyak suppressed it steadily with the White Flower Technique.

Danwooseong said.

“Let’s raise it further.”

Baekyak nodded and increased his power, a cool aura enveloping his entire body.

Danwooseong was the same.

He had become a man of intense heat.

Baekyak was personally experiencing that Dan Wooseong’s inner strength was far deeper than what he outwardly displayed. Baekyak was the successor of Baek Moo-jin, who had returned to the Central Plains after a long absence. The family’s preparations were thorough.

Grandfather yielded everything to Father, and Father yielded everything to Baekyak…

Yet the fact that Danwooseong was still holding on was nothing short of astonishing. As the brain energy surged out from his heart like a runaway train, Baekyak grabbed Danwooseong’s hand and said.

“I’ll counter with the White Flower Palm.”

It was a brain energy difficult to suppress with mere technique.

Because both had reserved their strength, the conversation flowed naturally. Dan Wooseong replied briefly.

“I’ll soon raise it to the ninth level.”

Baekyak endured the energy surge and nodded. Since the tenth or twelfth dan were usually referred to as the Great Achievement, he said it without much thought.

“Promote me to tenth rank. I’ll stop there.”

Danwooseong studied Baekyak’s expression before pushing his internal energy beyond its limits. Most masters would have been engulfed by the brain shock, their bodies torn apart by the force unleashed.

At that instant, energy waves erupted from both men’s bodies, causing the reception room’s decorations to shake violently and even the walls and doors to tremble.

Startled, the two locked eyes, gradually reining in their internal energy before simply holding hands for a moment.

The setting was inappropriate.

Baekyak withdrew his hand and wiped the sweat beading on Danwooseong’s forehead with his finger. It felt like a cold ice cube gliding coolly across his forehead.

Baekyak spoke.

“I think I have a lot to learn too. I’ve never used this much power before. It feels different from when I fight alone.”

Of course, fighting isn’t solely about internal power. Dan Woosung already knew this man possessed deeper practical experience and more intricate tactics in offensive and defensive combat than he did. If extraordinary enemies were beginning to stir, preparing alongside this man wouldn’t be a bad idea.

Dan Woosung stared at Baekyak’s sleeve, then his eyes widened.

With a sharp snap, the sleeve’s hem split apart, then tore upward.

Danwooseong grabbed the torn sleeve of his arm.

Baekyak was startled.

“Oh my.”

Baekyak smiled so widely her dimples deepened as she rolled up the sleeve.

“I should change secretly, or Ran might scold me.”

Dan Woo-sung nodded.

.

.

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The man known as the Sword King, whose real name is Neng Tianle.

He was fifty-two years old this year.

Contrary to the Martial Alliance Leader’s fears, he was still very much alive. However, he had been captured by individuals whose identities could not be ascertained.

Though captured, he was neither bound nor had his weapons taken.

Sitting cross-legged in a space devoid of anything, I received two meals a day delivered beneath the iron door. What made me abandon the blood battle was largely that I had been poisoned before I could even fight. I had been afflicted by a strange poison so insidious I hadn’t even realized when it struck, hindering the use of my inner energy.

And so, he was simply imprisoned in that vast cell, its walls painted pure white in every direction.

Could it really be possible that the man called the Sword King had given up fighting and been captured?

However, the Sword King was stunned the moment he confirmed the martial prowess of the two attackers assaulting him while he was poisoned.

Even without the poison, they were opponents he could not handle.

For some reason, when the Sword King drew his sword, the enemy leaders also withdrew their subordinates.

After that, they were guided here as if invited.

He had no expectation of escaping anyway. Yet he was curious about their identities. The same went for the fates of the Fist King and Murong Chui. Rather than fighting in vain and losing his life, he wanted to extract even the slightest information from the leaders of the Demon Sect.

Clang.

The white iron gate swung open, and a dozen men clad in black entered. Then a cheerful-looking man approached Nengchuan Yue and said,

“Senior Sword King, is the food to your liking?”

He was a man with dark, freckled skin, and though he wore drab clothes, his handsome features suggested women would flock to him.

Neng Tian’e looked at the man and nodded.

“No poison, so I enjoyed it quite well.”

This cheerful-looking man was one of the few who had ever made Neng Tian’e feel a rare sense of pressure.

The man grinned and said.

“Good to hear. Did you expel all the poison with qigong?”

“Things have improved quite a bit since yesterday. Hey there. Junior.”

“Yes, sir. What is it?”

“We haven’t even exchanged names yet. Tell me your name.”

The man replied.

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I’ve discarded my human name.”

One of his subordinates brought over a chair and set it down, and the man conversing with the Sword King sat down.

Nungcheonak nodded at the man’s words and replied.

“Somehow, that sounds believable. You’ve abandoned your human name—what name do you use now?”

The man replied.

“Senior, feel free to call me Sword Demon from now on.”

Nengcheonak nodded.

“Sword Demon, I see. How old are you?”

In response to Nongcheonak’s question, the Sword Demon laughed again and replied.

“I do not count my age.”

Nengcheonak asked, forcing himself to remain calm.

“Did your parents perish in the Great War of the Five Tombs?”

“Ah, the Great War of the Five Tombs? I haven’t heard that term in ages. It’s likely they did. I don’t know their exact fate. The ones who raised me weren’t my parents. Is there anything else you wish to know?”

Nengcheonak nodded.

“Why did you spare my life?”

The Sword Demon grinned.

“Aren’t you called the Sword King?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Senior, look at my subordinates.”

The Sword Demon raised a hand, pointing at his subordinates lined up in formation.

“What do you think? They’re all swordsmen.”

There were twelve men clad in black robes. Each wore a black sword at their waist.

The Sword King grinned.

“Excellent.”

The Sword Demon chuckled heartily.

“Well? Shall I give you a chance to kill him? Fair and square, one-on-one. These fellows would consider it an honor. Just the chance to face the Sword King one-on-one. They’ve never had that opportunity until now.”

Nengcheonak nodded.

“Junior, I’d be grateful for the chance. It would certainly be a far more worthwhile fight than being beaten to death by a mob.”

The Sword Saint clapped.

“Excellent.”

Nengcheonak rose from his seat and asked.

“Before we fight, I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

“Did you kill Kwonwang’s junior and Murong Choo’s senior like this too? I’m curious about the others’ fates as well. I haven’t been able to contact Senior Sword Master either.”

The Sword Demon grinned.

“Well… Ah, I remember Kwonwang. He fought like a madman. Couldn’t capture him alive. Just know that much.”

Neng Tian’e drew his sword as he replied.

“Thanks for the info. Who’s going first?”

Gyeomma snapped his fingers sharply.

“The youngest.”

The man at the end of the table stepped forward and replied.

“Yes.”

The Sword Demon pointed at Nengcheonak.

“Kill the great Sword King, your senior. Otherwise, you die.”

“I obey.”

The Sword Demon gestured with his finger at the other subordinates and said.

“Watch closely. If the youngest dies, you’re next.”

“Understood.”

The Sword Demon stretched out both hands and spoke like one presiding over judgment.

“Now, let the battle begin.”

Nungcheonak stood with his sword raised, conceding the first strike. Then, the subordinate called the youngest bowed respectfully before charging forward.

Nongcheon-ak thought it was even more horrifying that these creatures maintained their manners and pretended to be human, as he deflected the incoming swords.

Clang!

Nengcheonak’s hair fluttered in the shockwave. The enemy’s internal energy was deeper than expected.

‘The so-called ‘youngest’ one…’

But he wasn’t unkillable. Nengcheonak resolved that even if he died here, he would take all of the Sword Demon’s minions with him to the underworld. After over twenty exchanges, Nengcheonak began to see several openings in his opponent’s defense.

But all those watching were enemies.

His mind couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

After unleashing a dozen more attacks, he deflected the youngest’s counterattack while simultaneously spinning his body to precisely slice the opponent’s throat.

Kang!

Just as the neck should have been severed, the opponent thrust out his left arm.

In that split second, the Heaven-Defying Evil Blade countered with an identical left-hand strike.

CRASH!

The man was sent flying by the Heaven-Shattering Evil’s force, crashing into the wall. Yet he was already scrambling to his feet.

Nengcheonak stared blankly at the man he’d just been fighting. His sword, which had struck precisely, had bounced off the opponent’s neck without cutting it.

‘Invulnerable to blades?’

The Sword Demon spoke with an expression of admiration.

“Impressive. To counterattack in such a situation. Kings truly live up to their reputation.”

As Nengcheonak was half out of his mind, the Sword Demon spoke as if to snap him back to his senses.

“Senior, it’s not over yet. Keep going.”