Red-Rain Divine Sword (1)

Bi Sayoung knew well he had no chance of winning. Even against someone just at the threshold of Pinnacle Realm it would have been impossible—and judging by the length of that man’s blade-qi, he didn’t even seem to be merely at the threshold.

If he met him head-on, he would surely be cleaved in two within a single exchange.

Yet he still could not flee.

Shame at showing his back before Jeong-an was secondary; leave her here, and it was obvious what would happen to her.

Bi Sayoung grit his teeth.

‘I hadn’t planned to wager my life…’

This time, he likely had no choice.

Meanwhile, “Crimson Demon Saber” Myeong Dae-sul—the second lieutenant under Jang Sansama—watched Bi Sayoung and thought he understood why the fool insisted on facing him.

‘Because the girl’s been caught.’

Likely the man was her beloved.

Which made it all the more exciting.

He wanted to see the look on a woman’s face when her beloved died before her eyes.

He planned to make it as cruel as possible.

Strolling forward, Myeong Dae-sul suddenly lunged.

“Die!”

Pahpak!

But as he rushed in, ready to lop off the man’s arm first, he blurted in surprise.

“Huh?”

Despite his sudden charge, the distance did not close.

At the very instant Myeong sprang forward, the other man had retreated in sync, maintaining the gap.

To move that swiftly while stepping backward—clearly, the fellow’s movement art was impressive.

Myeong sneered.

“What’s this? Weren’t you so eager to save the girl? Pathetic cur—looks like all you can do is tuck your tail and scuttle away. I thought you were a knight-errant, but you’re just a mutt.”

He meant to provoke him.

Righteous “gentlemen” were the easiest to needle.

But rather than charge in blind rage as expected, Bi Sayoung snorted and threw it back.

“What are you yapping about, you slug? Don’t tell me you can’t even keep up with a man backpedaling—so you stand there flapping your gums? Unbelievable. Hey! Why are you so slow? Was your mother a turtle?”

Hack!

Myeong choked, momentarily wrong-footed.

He had assumed the man was orthodox—yet he sounded like a street punk…

And since becoming a pinnacle master, Myeong had never been addressed like this.

A worm insulting not only him but his mother?

Though a Blood Cult fiend, he still kept gratitude toward his mother. Rage boiled up in his chest.

His face changed; he ground his teeth.

“You little bastard…”

But Bi Sayoung wasn’t done.

Putting on an exaggerated gasp, he said,

“Oh—my mistake! Calling your mother a turtle—too harsh of me. Sorry. If you’re a slug, then your mother’s a slug too. Isn’t that right, slug-spawn?”

Smirking as he asked that final question, Bi Sayoung finally made Myeong explode.

“You bastard!”

Roaring, Myeong Dae-sul charged.

But Bi Sayoung kept sliding backward with swift footwork, staying outside his range.

He even clicked his tongue and shook his head as if pitying him.

“I’ll tear you to pieces!”

Myeong poured on the speed with all his might.

Until he shredded that wretch, nothing else would enter his eyes.

He saw only the gap slowly shrinking.

Yet behind his sneer, Bi Sayoung’s mind was cooler than ever.

He’d spent ages bantering with Seonu Jin; needling an oaf like this was as natural as eating or breathing.

Certainly easier than offering praise or thanks.

With a cool head, he felt behind him with every sense but sight—and suddenly realized there was something in his rear path.

He formed a plan on the spot.

The next instant, Myeong saw the man, still “retreating,” step squarely onto a stone.

“Ugh?!”

He glimpsed a startled face—then the man toppled backward.

Ecstatic, Myeong howled and sprang in.

“Wahahaha! Got—”

But then, the fallen man rolled once—and his body shot off at a diagonal, like an arrow.

Pang!

Watching Bi Sayoung streak away in the opposite direction like a bolt of light, Myeong could only yelp in shock.

“W-what?!”

The technique Bi Sayoung had just used was the Explosive Advance Steps, once used by the Giant Demon Jeo Ung-won.

When Seonu Jin had found secret manuals in that dead man’s belongings—along with Blood Cult arts—he had split the demonic manuals and mailed them separately, but suggested Bi Sayoung learn only the Explosive Advance Steps. He’d even joked it would be hilarious to teach it to Bae Jonggwan someday.

That footwork had looked like a shell’s explosive acceleration even under the Giant Demon; in Bi Sayoung’s hands, there was nothing Myeong could do.

‘Done!’

Hurtling toward the acupoint-sealed Jeong-an, Bi Sayoung finally allowed himself a true smile.

Victory was his.

From the start, he hadn’t aimed to defeat the foe—only to rescue Jeong-an.

“Miss!”

He was nearly upon her when laughter sounded.

“Hahahaha! Delightful! Truly splendid!”

From the roof.

A chill ran down Bi Sayoung’s spine.

A third party he hadn’t sensed at all.

The man dropped from the eaves to land in front of Jeong-an.

And Bi Sayoung wasn’t there yet.

“Kh!”

He clenched his teeth.

This time he truly had to risk his life.

“Haaap!”

Shuak!

His swift saber drew a thin line through space.

Alas—it did not touch the target.

Tok!

The man caught the blade between thumb and forefinger.

Bi Sayoung’s vision went dim.

Not dodge, not parry—he had caught the saber, effortlessly.

He couldn’t even guess at the man’s level.

Perhaps he had reached his limit.

But contrary to expectation, the stranger only smiled and spoke.

“It’s all right. I’m not an enemy.”

“…Eh?”

Bi Sayoung saw Jeong-an sway as her acupoint suddenly loosened—and then steady herself.

Beaming, she said,

“Oh! My point’s released!”

It must have been the stranger’s doing.

‘Truly not an enemy?’

Only then did Bi Sayoung study his face.

A very handsome man in his early twenties… with pale skin, a clear smile, and eyes kept gently closed—for whatever reason.

He spoke again, voice as clear as his smile.

“Forgive the fright. My senior and I were searching for the abducted women. On our way to the Mountain Sword Sect, we happened to spot the two—no, the four—of you.”

Bi Sayoung only blinked in confusion.

Searching for abducted women?

And “four” meant he knew about Seonu Jin and Lady Jeong-yeon, too?

Before he could ask, the youth went on,

“Details later. We should resolve that first.”

Bi Sayoung glanced back—Myeong Dae-sul was barreling toward them, face like a demon.

“You little shiiit! I’ll kill you!”

The closed-eyed youth walked past Bi Sayoung toward him.

His steps were so light it was as if he walked somewhere not of this world.

And Bi Sayoung immediately understood what that meant.

‘Magnificent movement art.’

He swallowed.

Even at a glance, the youth’s lightness skill matched his own.

And the surprise didn’t end there.

The youth slowly drew his sword.

Not fast, not flashy—just a simple motion anyone might make.

Yet Bi Sayoung couldn’t look away.

It felt as if this one person alone stood in a different world.

When the bared blade began to move, he saw it:

As the blade traced its line, a blue sword-qi spread, and a crimson afterglow bloomed around it—like red sunset light.

A scene the mind could not grasp; sublime beyond reason.

“That’s… impossible.”

And still, none of it was as shocking as what followed:

The charging enemy’s body split along that single stroke.

A pinnacle master—likely over seventy years’ cultivation—seemed to offer himself to the blade and fell in two.

At a glance, one could mistake it for suicide.

Then Jeong-an murmured, aghast,

“Azure-Cloud… Red-Glow Sword? How—”

Azure-Cloud Red-Glow Sword?

He had heard of it.

A Qingcheng sword only once in a century realized by their rarest prodigies.

Even Han Gyoseong—the Blue Wind Sword Dragon—had not fully manifested it, or so they said.

Then who was this man?

The one who had felled a pinnacle master with ease turned back wearing the same sunny smile and bowed.

“Pleased to meet you. I am Lee Geon of Qingcheng.”

I had felt their arrival just before I unleashed One Breath, One Kill.

So I could answer the man who addressed me without a tremor.

“One Breath, One Kill? Are you a Diancang disciple?”

“Not a formal Diancang disciple, but close enough. And you—who are you, Blood Cult demon?”

I replied casually, but inside, I sighed.

I had taken down one pinnacle master—then three more appeared.

One with over eighty years’ cultivation, the other two at least at the threshold.

Like peeling an onion.

To be able to deploy masters of this level even to a backwater—such was the Blood Cult’s depth.

Or perhaps they valued this site far more than I had thought.

Either way, it was an extraordinarily dangerous situation.

So of course, I should flee at once…

‘Troublesome.’

Oddly, I felt too calm.

Worse, I felt the urge to test myself.

Since the day Black Wolf possessed me and faced the Giant Demon, I had revisited that battle and my responses whenever I could.

Dozens—hundreds—of times.

And I concluded this:

The world I saw after that fight was not the same as before, and except for the final Emptiness Becomes Form, I believed I could now reproduce all of it.

So I wanted to see how far I could go—now.

‘Starting with that one—the eighty-year fiend I would until recently have only fled.’

But after a heartbeat’s impulse, I decided to run.

If I were alone, perhaps—but with Lady Jeong-yeon here, I could not gamble.

‘A pity.’

Schooling my heart, I sent her a hurried whisper.

— He’s beyond me. Likely a master with more than eighty years’ cultivation. We should flee at full speed. On the count of three, climb onto my back. Ready? One, two…

I had only just regained my composure after finally separating from her—and now I had to carry her again. But there was no help for it.

The man answered my question.

Perhaps because I seemed so relaxed, he never imagined I might run.

“Keh-heh-heh. This elder is Demon Slaying-Saber Yang Bulgi, first under Jang Sansama. And the one you just killed was my fourth younger broth—”

I shouted then.

“Three! Let’s go, miss!”

I grabbed her to bolt—when, from the Mountain Sword Sect, another figure streaked toward us like a meteor.

“Haaap!”

From the man’s sword streamed a long crimson blade-qi, leaving a tail like a falling star.

A blade-qi of that length—he too was at least a pinnacle master with over eighty years’ cultivation.

‘But… that blade-qi is headed not for me, but for that fiend.’

I paused, aborting my flight, and watched.

Yang Bulgi, the “Demon Slaying-Saber,” noticed the ambush late; he yanked his saber free to meet it.

“Who goes there?! Haaah!”

Kwak-kwak-kwak-kwang!

Saber-qi and sword-qi collided in midair, bursting into dazzling sparks.

In mere heartbeats, they traded several exchanges.

And their relative might became clear.

“Haaah!”

Kwak-kwak-kwang!

Yang Bulgi’s saberwork resembled that of the one I had fought earlier—each swing like red lightning crashing down.

But the newcomer’s sword was like an evening glow.

Shuaaak!

As he spread his forms, a crimson dusk suffused the space—and even the red lightning seemed to melt within it, losing force.

It was like watching thunder dissolve into sunset.

Beside me, Lady Jeong-yeon cried out in joy,

“The Red-Rain Sword! It’s Senior Brother Hwa!”

Hwa—?

Then the newcomer was the Red-Rain Divine Sword, Hwa Yeong-bin, disciple of the Qingcheng Eccentric Immortal?

At her words, I looked him over with fresh admiration.

First, his striking looks.

Though likely mid-to-late thirties, he appeared as a handsome youth in his late twenties.

And his martial level was astonishing.

Roughly ninety years of cultivation?

Not quite at Super-Pinnacle, but right at the verge.

Among the twentysomething and thirtysomething warriors I had met, he seemed above even Captain Seol Pung.

As for his Red-Rain Sword—words failed.

Not as blindingly swift and lethal as the Four-One Sword, yet to watch it was like beholding nature itself—sublime.

‘So this is the sword pursued by true Daoist adepts.’

The thought arose unbidden.

Then I saw two more pinnacle-threshold fiends who had come with Yang Bulgi rush to join the fray.

“You—don’t forget us!”

“Great lord, we’ll aid you!”

A smile crept over my face.

With them added, the Red-Rain Divine Sword would hardly falter—but I couldn’t just stand idle, could I?

At least I could vent a little on those two.

I shouted and sprang toward them.

“Why head that way? You’ll hurt my feelings!”

The radiant wings my sword-light unfurled spread wide toward the pair.