Vortex

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Namgung Hyeok walked up to Gyo-ha’s side.

Namgung Hyeok joining them was like rain in a drought.

Gyo-ha was about to say no, but he swallowed his breath.

“…Are you okay?”

Because Namgung Hyeok’s condition was not good at all.

His whole body was riddled with holes.

He looked worse than Gyo-ha.

“Yes.”

Namgung Hyeok nodded. But his eyelids trembled.

A deep crease formed between Cheol Du-sim’s brows when he saw Namgung Hyeok approach.

His gaze shifted to those who had fallen.

“Useless fools.”

Cheol Du-sim snapped coldly. There was no pity or sorrow in him.

To him, disciples were nothing but parts.

He could replace them anytime.

“But it doesn’t matter now.”

Seeing Namgung Hyeok’s state, they had served their purpose well enough.

Two brats on the brink of death.

The outcome was as good as decided.

Cheol Du-sim’s sword surged toward Namgung Hyeok.

Gyo-ha quickly shot out his foot.

Tung!

The sword was knocked aside. But the force was weaker than before.

Cheol Du-sim’s sword changed direction and went for Gyo-ha’s neck.

This time, Namgung Hyeok swung his sword.

“Keuk!”

Namgung Hyeok was pushed back.

Thanks to that, the sword aiming for Gyo-ha’s neck only cut empty air.

“You stubborn bastards!”

Cheol Du-sim’s sword let out its wail again.

---

The momentum packed into each blow was not normal.

Cheol Du-sim was reaching his physical limits too. But the momentum in his sword did not weaken.

No matter how great your talent was, there were things you could not catch up to.

Time itself.

A martial artist’s year carried a different weight from an ordinary person’s year.

And for a peak martial artist, even more so.

Because their years themselves were power.

Internal energy.

As Gyo-ha said, Cheol Du-sim had neglected physical training compared to Namgung Jin-yeong.

But what did that matter?

That didn’t mean he had abandoned cultivation.

His dantian held his years.

“Brother, is there no way?”

Namgung Hyeok forced his eyes open as they started to close.

He didn’t have Gyo-ha’s recovery. So blood was still flowing from his wounds.

His complexion had turned pale as well.

Even now, his injuries kept increasing.

Namgung Hyeok knew there was no clear method.

He had only spoken out of frustration.

But someone was even more frustrated than Namgung Hyeok. It was Gyo-ha.

Both his internal energy and his stamina were at rock bottom.

But there was still something left.

The middle dantian.

Mok-geum and elixirs. Because of them, Gyo-ha had an amount of yokai qi that couldn’t be compared to before.

That was the only thing that could change the situation.

‘…If I knew how to use it.’

Mara Twenty-Four Forms.

It was his only means, but nothing came to him.

Knocking Down Birds alone was not enough.

The frustration of not being able to use the power he had.

A boulder was crushing his chest.

‘Would it have been different if I’d fought the Spider Sis or that swordsman?’

Would he have learned something then?

Gyo-ha pictured them.

He had seen them wield yokai power.

From Mok-geum, and from the sword yokai that devoured its master.

And from the spider yokai.

What had their movements been like?

How had they fought?

Movements unlike humans. It was not simply because they were born different from humans.

They were using a power that was not internal energy.

Yokai Qi.

But it looked hazy, as if wrapped in fog.

‘…No. I can do it.’

If they could do it, Gyo-ha could too.

“Hyeok. Can you hold him off for just a moment?”

Namgung Hyeok glanced at Gyo-ha. Even with both of them blocking together, barely holding on was all they could do.

For him to do that alone?

It was no different from dying.

But Namgung Hyeok nodded without hesitation.

“Leave it to me.”

Gyo-ha stepped back slightly. He couldn’t withdraw completely.

If he did, it would end in an instant.

But even stepping back a little gave him time to steady his breathing.

“Keuk.”

A groan from Namgung Hyeok came from the side.

He had been hit.

Even so, Gyo-ha collected himself. This could be their last chance.

He couldn’t waste the opening Namgung Hyeok had created.

‘There is a way.’

Mok-geum?

Its body structure was different from the start. Gyo-ha could not imitate it.

The sword yokai was the same.

It fought by sucking its master’s life force.

There was only one choice.

Spider Sis.

And she was also the one Gyo-ha was most familiar with.

He had only met her briefly.

But Gyo-ha had recalled her thousands, tens of thousands of times.

That was how Wild Ruin Strike was born.

And that effort had an effect.

Something came to him, faintly.

The mural.

‘…A little more.’

If he pushed a little more, it felt like he would see it.

Just as Gyo-ha wished, the mural’s movement came into view.

Had the one who carved that mural fought something like a spider?

But.

‘It was erased?’

Of all things, someone had erased the latter part. Gyo-ha’s eyes, staring into empty air, wavered.

Just as he was about to be disappointed.

Light flashed before his eyes like a bolt of lightning.

The latter part of the next motion connected to the spider.

It wasn’t that it had fought something like a spider.

The spider had copied that technique. It was a little different, but the foundation was the same.

Step forward.

It was different from Wild Ruin Strike.

A light step. At the same time, a red energy rose.

“What?”

“Brother?”

At the sudden change, Cheol Du-sim and Namgung Hyeok’s movements stopped.

For a very brief moment.

Cheol Du-sim judged it dangerous and thrust his sword toward Gyo-ha.

Merciless Moon Tune.

Seventh Tune, Moonlight.

A chill poured out that could not be compared to anything before.

Seeing it, Namgung Hyeok clenched his teeth too.

Boundless Firmament Sword Art.

Firmament Calamity Thunder.

Yellow thunder qi rose from Namgung Hyeok’s sword.

He gathered every last bit of internal energy he had left.

His vision blurred.

Thunder qi he could not control began to rage. Namgung Hyeok desperately held on to his sword.

It felt like his palm would tear.

At that moment.

A force rose that surpassed Cheol Du-sim’s chill and Namgung Hyeok’s thunder qi.

At the center of it was Gyo-ha.

Eyes shut.

But his momentum was not normal.

Then his closed eyes opened.

Mara Twenty-Four Forms.

Nineteenth Form, Whirling Vortex.

Gyo-ha thrust his fist out.

With it, red energy swallowed the surroundings.

Kwagagagagagagang!

With the explosion, the three of them were swallowed by darkness.

---

Girik, girik.

A young man staggered as if drunk.

People hurriedly stepped aside when they saw him.

Because there was a sword in his hand.

Blood that hadn’t dried yet dripped down.

“U-uh….”

A bizarre sound leaked from the man’s mouth.

The man kept moving without rest.

Then his steps stopped short.

He stood still and turned his head.

Beyond the winding road, high mountains continued.

But the man was not looking at the mountains. Beyond them.

Twitch.

The sword in his hand moved.

The man didn’t move it. The sword moved on its own.

The man changed direction.

But after only a few steps, he stopped.

The young man’s hand was suddenly full of wrinkles.

“Th-this… c-can’t… g-go on… l-like this.”

A bizarre sound flowed from the man’s mouth.

A voice that was neither human nor beast.

It was the sword speaking, not the man.

‘I need to find a new host.’

This host would die before reaching the destination.

A stronger host.

Only then could it reach the destination.

The scent of prey.

The sword that had been staring past the mountains changed direction again.

Toward where a thick stench of blood was flowing.

It was far away, but it could tell.

Desire and resentment. Despair and rage.

Emotions the sword loved.

There, two groups of humans were fighting.

They were not ordinary humans.

Those called martial artists.

If it was them, they could become good hosts like the one used before.

The man who had been staring past the mountains began walking toward the scent of blood.

Akseo.

That was where the Taedong Gate and Jeokmu Hall were in the midst of war.

---

“What on earth happened…”

The Taoists who had climbed the mountain frowned.

The scenery was in ruins.

Trees were snapped, and the ground was overturned. It looked as if a bomb had fallen on this place.

Had someone detonated a thunder bomb?

Otherwise, it would never look like this.

They wore Taoist robes mixed with white and blue, and at their waists hung plain-looking iron swords.

The tassels on the iron swords were blue as well, like their robes.

A single pattern was drawn on the scabbards that held the iron swords.

A pattern mixed with black and white.

Taiji.

They were Taoists of the Wudang Sect.

“Sahyung! We found it.”

At his junior’s shout, Jin-un, a disciple of the Wudang Sect, lifted his head.

A shattered carriage.

And not far away, an old man’s corpse lay in view.

Jin-un took something from his chest.

A drawing of a middle-aged man.

But the old man’s body was so mangled he could not be identified properly.

Still, there was something he could tell.

The wound on the man in the drawing matched the old man’s wound.

“That’s him. It’s the Cold-Blooded Grim Eunuch.”

The Taoists’ murmurs grew louder.

A man who had been one of Anhui’s Three Great Evildoers. They never expected someone like that to be hiding in Hubei Province.

Jin-un looked around.

Besides the Cold-Blooded Wicked Eunuch, several other mangled corpses were there.

There wasn’t a single corpse with intact limbs. And their faces were ruined, making them hard to recognize.

“Who on earth…”

Who had killed the Cold-Blooded Grim Eunuch?

He had hidden himself for decades.

Even if he was weaker than back then, he was not someone to take lightly.

But Jin-un could guess why the Cold-Blooded Grim Eunuch had suddenly appeared.

“Young Master Namgung. Is there still no news of Young Master Namgung Hyeok?”

Jin-un stared at the ruined site with anxious eyes.

There was a reason he had rushed out of the main mountain after hearing the news.

“This sword. It’s the Firmament Sword!”

At someone’s shout, the Taoists’ expressions hardened.

‘Am I already too late?’

Jin-un bit his lip. The Taoists’ gazes shifted to the corpses.

Could he be one of them?

Then, from afar, a rustling sound came.

Had a beast passed by?

‘It could be a survivor.’

Jin-un reacted instantly. He hurled himself toward where the sound came from.

“Sahyung!”

A few Taoists followed Jin-un.

And soon, they found him. A body ruined with injuries.

Being alive was no different from a miracle.

A simple, innocent face that did not match his massive muscles.

“This man is…”

“Do you know him?”

“It is Master Taoist Gyo-ha of the Kunlun Sect, Do-jang.”

The Taoists’ eyes widened. There was no Taoist who did not know that name.

They also knew why they called him Master Taoist rather than Taoist.

Gyo-ha’s master, Yun Heo, was of the same generation as their sect leader.

So Gyo-ha’s generation matched their elders’ generation.

“…Surely Master Taoist didn’t…”

The Taoist speaking shook his head.

Even he thought it made no sense. It would be difficult even if their Martial Uncles, the Jeong generation, stepped in.

As if the voices brought him back, Gyo-ha’s eyelids twitched.

“Uh. Ugh.”

“Master Taoist Gyo-ha. Have you come to your senses?”

But Gyo-ha’s eyelids did not rise.

Instead, his nose flared.

Kkeung-kkeung.

Gyo-ha sniffed the air.

Then Gyo-ha’s mouth opened.

“N-north.”

Leaving those words, Gyo-ha’s head dropped.

“Master Taoist!”

He wasn’t dead. He had fainted again.

The Taoists’ eyes changed. The ones here were not ordinary Taoists.

They were Wudang disciples.

Each of them was worthy of being called a genius.

They understood what Gyo-ha was trying to say.

“North! Search to the north!”

The disciples hurled themselves into motion.

Smooth movements, as if walking on air.

It was the Rising Cloud Step, the movement art Wudang prided itself on.