Returning From Near Death

The place where the bloody battle had raged was like a ruin. The once neat and tranquil Kang Family Manor could no longer be found anywhere.

The sleet that had briefly stopped began to fall again, one flake at a time, upon the courtyard dyed red with blood. And in its midst stood a middle-aged woman in snow-white clothes, her gaze fixed only on Kang Yul-cheon’s severed head rolling on the main hall floor.

“That’s why you should have listened to me.”

The woman spoke in a calm yet moist voice. Truly, theirs was a stubborn bond. She had wished to sever it, but not in this way.

‘How foolish you were.’

A wretched end, unbefitting the glorious title of Sword God. Yul-cheon’s face was now so blackened it was hard to recognize him. The woman could not bring herself to leave, arranging the dismembered body in proper form.

Before she knew it, her white sleeves were blotched with crimson stains. After long hesitation, she decisively cut off the sleeve ends. That seemed to lighten her heart a little.

She had no intention of burying this obstinate old man. With only a short bow of respect, she crossed the courtyard and left Kang Family Manor. In her hand was Water Moon, the sword Jong-yeon had clutched till the very end.

Surrounded by Black Butterfly Shadows, Yun-seon had already been enduring torment for over two hours.

“Recite the scripture’s contents!”

“I know nothing.”

The same question and answer had already repeated over a hundred times. Unlike the questioners, the one answering grew ever more ruined—his face swollen beyond recognition, his upper body torn and bloodied from relentless beatings.

Right Shadow, having lost his elder brother, would never allow the culprit’s disciple to live intact. If the boy gave no more answers, he meant to start by severing fingers, then limbs. No torture could compare to his own rending grief.

“Let’s see if you give the same answer when every finger’s cut off.”

In Right Shadow’s hand gleamed a butterfly-patterned dagger, its edge so sharp that every move reflected blinding sunlight.

“Which finger shall I cut first?”

As Right Shadow sneered, his wide mouth curled up to his jawline. None in the kangho knew better than he how to sever in the most agonizing way.

“Let’s start with the thumb.”

At Right Shadow’s nod, the Black Butterfly Shadows captain seized Yun-seon’s right hand. Desperately he tried to hide it, but with both arms broken, it was impossible.

“Argh!”

Right Shadow gripped Yun-seon’s right wrist hard enough to snap it, yanking it forward. In torture, he always began with the right—whether finger, arm, or leg.

“Still won’t speak?”

Even so, he asked once more, just in case.

“Just kill me instead!”

Though fear blurred his mind, Yun-seon kept silent. The scripture was the price of his master and brother’s lives—he could not betray it merely to lessen his suffering.

Seeing Yun-seon’s blue lips trembling, Right Shadow nearly laughed to death. This green boy, acting as if he had some noble conviction, was ridiculous.

‘Once humans feel pain past a limit, they plunge into utter despair. All I need is to push him past that threshold.’

Somehow, cutting a few fingers didn’t satisfy him. He would bring the boy to the brink of death. Excited, Right Shadow’s wide mouth spread further.

“Let’s see how much you endure.”

Staring at the pulsing veins in Yun-seon’s wrist, Right Shadow shifted his grip with thumb and middle finger. He drew up his Taiyi¹ Divine Art, focusing qi into them. Energy slowly surged, condensing at his fingertips.

“AAARGH!”

As searing heat like flesh burning surged into his wrist, Yun-seon screamed. Invisible flames climbed his veins up the forearm. It felt as though bones crumbled and flesh sloughed off.

“Still now?”

“Ghhhk—”

His cries broke into metallic rasping as his throat tore and blood burst out, but Right Shadow did not stop.

“Still now?”

The more he used Taiyi Divine Art, the more exhilarated he became. His mind brimmed only with the urge to kill.

“Shall I just kill you?”

“Leader!”

Seeing their leader’s unfocused eyes, the assassins gathered in alarm. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost reason using Taiyi Divine Art. Each time, they chose to avoid rather than intervene—for it was fearsome beyond measure.

But this time was different. The Black Butterfly Shadows captain feared that if Yun-seon died now, Left Shadow’s death would be in vain. They had to restrain their leader and extract the scripture’s secrets.

“Leader!”

Unable to touch him directly, the captain hurled internal qi at Yun-seon—the only method he knew to break Right Shadow’s frenzy.

Thud!

But his force never reached Yun-seon. The recoil from Taiyi Divine Art flung it back upon him, blasting him twenty steps back and making him vomit blood.

“Captain!”

His men rushed around him. Thankfully, he rose with no grave injury—he had weakened his strike for fear of harming the leader. Otherwise, it might have cost his life.

Yet the crisis deepened. Yun-seon had fainted from agony, his life’s thread on the verge of snapping.

“Why not just sever the brat’s wrist?”

One subordinate whispered to the captain: inner force could be repelled, but a swift blade might cut through.

“Let’s try that.”

Sending his men back, the captain drew his sword slowly. He was the finest swordsman among them. The keen blade aimed solely at Yun-seon’s wrist. Holding his breath, he struck fast.

Whoosh!

Clang!

“Argh!”

All the assassins gaped, unable to grasp what happened. They saw clearly the captain’s sword strike Yun-seon’s wrist—yet the severed wrist was not Yun-seon’s, but the captain’s own.

“Captain!”

Blood dripping from his shaking stump, the captain pointed toward his leader. All eyes followed—another figure was standing there.

“I’m not too late, it seems.”

Sixteen, maybe? With strikingly fair skin and distinct features, a youthful girl in white robes gazed at Yun-seon, her flowing sleeves fluttering. It was her slender sword that had deflected the captain’s strike.

“Wh… who are you?”

The assassins drew weapons one by one, taking stance. But she neither answered nor even looked their way.

“This is troublesome.”

With arms folded, the girl muttered to herself as if pondering. Her composure was so unshaken that none dared approach.

“If they’re hurt, so be it.”

Finishing her murmur, she snatched Yun-seon’s wrist with one hand and flicked seven fine needles toward Right Shadow’s face with the other. She moved so fast that no one even saw the projectiles fly.

Whiikk.

Half-maddened by his art, Right Shadow hadn’t even realized someone stood beside him. But as a warrior, he sensed danger in the breeze skimming his face. Tilting back, he dodged three needles in succession, then twisted and grounded his hand to deflect the next three.

“Ugh!”

A deft defense, but the last needle could not be avoided. Faster and sharper than his movements, it embedded itself in his right eye, only the tail visible.

Overcome by the terror of blindness and searing pain, Right Shadow rolled on the ground. He longed to pull the needle out but feared even touching it—lest his eyeball pop out.

“Leader!”

At last, the assassins realized a true master threatened their lives. Under the vice-captain, they regrouped, swiftly encircling the girl. Together they formed a giant butterfly shape—their killer formation, Butterfly Array, from which even great masters could not escape.

“Hmph!”

The girl snorted derisively. At the same time, she tossed Yun-seon out of the array with her left hand. His unconscious body plummeted in an arc—hard enough to cause internal injuries.

But watching keenly, she sent a gentle palm strike that slowed his fall. He hit the ground with only the sound of a minor tumble.

‘Such inner power is truly beyond measure.’

Even faint from blood loss, the captain watched closely. He knew no sect of such style, yet her skill was astounding.

“Stay sharp!”

At his cry, the Array’s wings shifted—the horizontal line advanced three steps, the vertical fell back five. The shrinking center tightened so close no one within could escape.

“An amusing trick.”

Expressionless, she watched their perfect coordination. She seemed unwilling to move until they attacked.

Whistle!

The whistle was the signal. Seven odd-numbered assassins drew swords, twisting wrists dozens of times to unleash seven techniques. Their Butterfly Swordplay was as dazzling and dizzying as its name. One man’s blade could be dodged—but the simultaneous flurry from seven directions was blinding.

Whistle!

At the second whistle, seven even-numbered leapt inward, launching seven more techniques. Now fourteen sword forms converged on the girl from every side.

“Ohh.”

Yet she only let out a murmur of awe, still unmoving. If the fourteen blades struck, her body would surely be shredded like paper.

Clang!

“Urgh!”

A loud metallic clang shattered the mountain’s stillness, followed by fourteen short cries.

Just one move. At the instant a blade brushed her robe, she raised her sword. To the eye, it looked like one stroke. But in truth, her blade had pierced all fourteen assassins’ chest acupoints. Had she pressed harder, they would all be dead.

“I dislike killing, so let’s end it here.”

Shrugging, she gazed down at the fallen assassins. Drops of blood from her sword tip spattered onto dew-damp grass.

Still blinded in one eye by pain, Right Shadow finally realized disaster from his men’s cries. Freed now from qi deviation, he leaned on a tree, clutching whisk in his right hand. His right eye was lost, but the left could still see faintly.

“Mo… Mo… Moo… Moon Heart.”

He stammered the characters engraved on her sword, then began to tremble as if seeing a ghost.

“Why… why are you here…?”

Treading lightly among the fallen assassins, she came to stand before him. Smiling broadly yet with an icy voice, Ju-un spoke:

“I’ve come to take back what you stole, old man.”

기사회생(起死回生), Returning from Near Death:
To nearly die, then survive again.