#59: The Eve Festival (9) — The Patriarch of Sichuan

Beon Gang was flustered.

‘What is this?’

Someone in a hood stamped the ground and sprang up.

It was clearly a formidable master; the eyes not hidden by the hood were frozen cold.

‘No way, was I found out?!’

He couldn’t believe it.

He’d moved with his master for days, and since the day before yesterday alone. Even alone, he’d been confident. He should have left no trace.

Then how?

A thousand thoughts flashed in an instant, but this wasn’t the time to ponder. The hooded master was at arm’s reach.

Beon Gang reflexively chopped down with a single, simple yet swift and powerful slash.

Jeong Gyo’s long saber twitched.

Jjeo-eong!

At the ringing that flowed along the ridge, leaves pattered down.

The moment they traded blows, Beon Gang felt something was terribly wrong.

‘A master!’

His body sprang back; the hand gripping the blade hurt as if tearing.

“Hup!”

He controlled his breathing, landed fast, and sprinted back without looking.

But things didn’t go his way. Barely nine meters in, a sharp killing intent tickled the back of his head.

By instinct, Beon Gang twisted and rolled.

Kwang!

A stone like an arrow smashed the top of a small rock.

Gooseflesh crawled over him. Had he not dodged, his upper body would be like that.

‘What immense internal energy!’

Beon Gang recovered posture and looked up. Jeong Gyo had reached within a jang.

Beon Gang felt his vision go dark.

“Uraaah!”

Jjeo-eong!

Another exchange of saber blows.

His blade flew from his hand and stuck in the ground. Had he held on, his palm would have torn.

Paaak!

Beon Gang hurled himself again.

Retreating in a zigzag, he swiftly drew the sword beside his bundle.

Confidence surged with a sword in hand. A single-edged saber wasn’t his main weapon to begin with. With a sword, even an opponent with deeper internal energy didn’t scare him.

“I’ll kill you, you bastard!”

Stepping in at once, Beon Gang’s eyes wavered.

‘Where?!’

The foe wasn’t where he should be. Even the blade he’d dropped was gone.

“Over here.”

Startled, Beon Gang swung left.

His reaction was different than with the saber. He dropped his torso and, snake-like, thrust with a piercing lunge. His killing instincts were flaring.

But the opponent was too much.

Swiik!

Beon Gang’s sword grazed Jeong Gyo’s shoulder. It sliced only the fabric. Not even the skin, much less the muscle, was cut.

Jeong Gyo swung his foot mercilessly.

Peok!

Beon Gang couldn’t even scream. Pain from his belly spread through his body. He couldn’t breathe.

At the same time, his dantian shook.

The True Qi he had sealed surged, dyeing Beon Gang’s gaze with a sinister light.

Whether he knew it or not, Jeong Gyo paused and looked down at the blade Beon Gang had wielded.

It was a curved saber, slightly narrower than a common pudao. It was thicker than a sword, yet for a single-edged weapon, quite sleek.

Jeong Gyo’s eyes trembled.

‘Dead Spirit Saber.’

The Mad Demon’s Soul-Killing Blade, famed a decade ago, was just the name people gave it.

This blade closely resembled the Dead Spirit Saber’s edge. From length to curvature, it was a near copy.

The difference was only whether it was a demon blade forged in blood or a treasure blade embodying the artistry of refined steel-soul.

Hwaaak!

Jeong Gyo, staring at the blade, turned his head.

An ominous killing aura was billowing from Beon Gang. Perhaps stifled, he had tossed aside his blood-soaked hood. Hunched like a beast, sinister energy streamed from the sword in his hand.

Jeong Gyo’s eyes cooled again.

“You son of a bitch…”

Had he lost his reasoning? In Beon Gang’s bloodshot eyes, frenzy perched beyond killing intent.

“You dare hinder me?!”

Paak!

With a shout near a roar, Beon Gang charged, letting out a grotesque cry.

Jeong Gyo’s eyes slightly widened.

The gap in skill was clear, yet he didn’t flee and instead rushed in, flinging his filthy killing intent.

He had thought him lacking, and yet.

‘Fast.’

Beon Gang’s sword moved like lightning.

Kaang! Kurreung!

A sizable boulder behind the evading Jeong Gyo shattered.

It wasn’t cut. It was broken. The sheer, mindless power behind it was unbelievable.

“Kaaak!”

Beon Gang reset his stance and swung again at Jeong Gyo.

It looked wild, yet every vital was targeted. His thrusts went for acupoints, his cuts for the neck and clavicle.

There are many martial arts in the world, but a sword style made solely of killing strokes is rare. The movements were awkward in many places because he put in too much strength, yet if executed properly, it was a killing art among killing arts that would drive in greedily and seize a life without fail.

Especially that internal energy.

‘It’s thickening by the moment.’

The murderous aura pouring from Beon Gang quickly deepened.

It was hair-raising. If Jin-hyeon’s murderous aura had been a flame when he laid eyes on the slaughtered family, Beon Gang’s was a clinging swamp.

That aura was even changing his internal energy. What had been fairly clear turned rapidly dark.

‘Demonic art?!’

Jeong Gyo, retreating steadily, stamped in hard a step.

Teo-eong!

Sliding into the gap, Jeong Gyo jabbed Beon Gang’s chest with the saber’s hilt.

Udook!

A bone-breaking sound was clear. Beon Gang spewed blood and flew back.

However.

“Kreurr.”

He rolled once and got back in his stance right away.

With a broken sternum he shouldn’t even breathe properly. An ordinary man would be incapacitated.

Beon Gang was different. If anything, this strike seemed to act as a catalyst. The unstable true energy that had been wavering all over turned entirely into Demonic Qi

“Kraaaah!”

The bellow he poured out was no different from a beast’s.

The streaming killing intent exploded. It was so virulent even the brush around seemed to wither.

“How vulgar.”

He was no longer surprised or flustered.

Hesitation vanished from Jeong Gyo’s face as he leveled his saber at Beon Gang.

“I’ve no attachment to the infamy ‘Mad Demon,’ but it’s not a name to be bandied about or stolen by rabble like you.”

Huk!

A ferocious aura surged from Jeong Gyo’s body as well.

Grand as a mountain and keen as a blade. The internal energy was so overwhelming it crushed Beon Gang’s Demonic Qi in an instant.

“Come.”

“Kyak!”

Paaak!

Still, he couldn’t control the power. He stamped the ground, flailing his arms, little different from a beast.

Jeong Gyo half-lidded his eyes.

‘Initial Cut.’

Flash!

He evaded the destructive sword strike and at once lifted his slanting cut. The rising slash turned in a blink and crashed down like lightning.

Chwaaak!

Two gashes were engraved across Beon Gang’s upper body.

Ordinarily he’d be in pieces. It was only because Jeong Gyo had no thought of killing Beon Gang that kept him alive.

But though he didn’t mean to kill, his anger toward him surged like waves.

Jeong Gyo’s saber surged in a terrifying torrent.

Paak! Chwaaak! Seogeok!

He unleashed every kind of slashing strike. Diagonal cuts to the left and right, vertical and horizontal blows, sweeping draws, and downward chops all burst out in rapid succession.

It was a chain-linked flurry so fast it left afterimages. Slashed all over, Beon Gang was driven back without being able to execute a single proper swing.

Cutting wasn’t everything. To hew down even an immortal, one had to launch slashes while using the repulsive force of palm energy to constrain and shove the foe.

Advance, then slash, and advance again.

This was the true face of the endless killing art that ranked among the cruelest even in the Eight Wastes Alliance era before the Heavenly Will Alliance, the Life-Snatching Chain-Linked Saber.

“Keureuk!”

Beon Gang, face covered in cuts, reeled. His killing aura remained, but with too many wounds, he could no longer wield Demonic Qi.

Jeong Gyo struck the back of Beon Gang’s head with the saber spine.

Peok!

Beon Gang’s eyes rolled as he collapsed; the spewing killing aura and wavering Demonic Qi vanished at once.

Jeong Gyo looked down at him, sighed, and turned his gaze east.

“How has it gone over there?”

Walking through bamboo, Dong Neung stopped.

“…”

His sharp gaze around was far different from when he’d faced Beon Yu.

“Who’s there?”

Seureuk.

Scanning about, Dong Neung quickly fixed on the front.

A young man had appeared before he knew it. Fifteen meters away, perched on a rock, with strikingly white hair.

The sword over his back looked long and broad. It looked to be something similar to a greatsword.

Dong Neung knit his brows.

“And what are you?”

“And you, where are you headed?”

“…”

“Even if you go on ahead, you won’t find the ones you’re after.”

A chill ran down his spine, but Dong Neung’s face didn’t change.

“What mad talk are you spouting? And I asked who you are.”

“Why so touchy?”

“You wretch! I asked who you are!”

“Nothing you need to know.”

Seureung.

The Indestructible Sword slid free with an ominous note.

Dong Neung’s eyes wavered.

A top master can gauge strength by how a foe draws a weapon, much more when the foe is also a swordsman like oneself.

‘He’s strong!’

Even drawing slowly, his shoulders and torso didn’t waver.

The sound leaving the scabbard was incredibly smooth, enough to make his skin feel cut by the sound alone.

Jin-hyeon drew the Indestructible Sword and rested it naturally on the ground, speaking coldly.

“You’re decent.”

“?”

“At that level you surpass even leaders of the Sichuan Eight Martial Houses. Looks like you’ve never let go of your sword. Your aura is quite sharp.”

“!”

“But why so filthy? The edge is honed, but the reek of blood is thick. Your aura lacks a clear distinction.”

Dong Neung swallowed before he knew it.

For nonsense, the man’s posture and bearing were too uncanny. And he was waiting for him here, of all places.

Crucially, he’d said those he targeted weren’t ahead.

‘He knows me?!’

No, he didn’t know his identity; if he had, he wouldn’t have said that. He would have spoken a title or a name.

But he knew he would come here.

Dong Neung exercised patience.

He hadn’t killed for two days to avoid suspicion. Riled at the thought of blood after three days, patience was hard.

Holding it down, he asked in a leveled voice,

“Enough nonsense. Do you know me? If you did, you have sent a proper challenger. We could have had a clean match.”

“Why would I duel a mad killer like you? I’ll just kill you.”

“What kind of bullshit are you spewing!”

“I’ll tell you one thing. Your accomplice should be caught by now.”

“!!”

Dong Neung’s face went pale.

Realizing his slip, he composed himself, but the fluster remained. The bloodless face stayed.

Jin-hyeon smiled.

“You know what that means, right? I don’t need to recite your charges. I just need to beat you down.”

Dong Neung’s face, blotched with dismay, slowly returned to form.

His face had gone cold. In his cold and fierce eyes, a faint killing intent flickered. It was a killing intent that brought to mind the fangs of a savage beast rather than the sharp aura of a sword.

“Are you from the Investigation and Defense Court?”

“If I were, I’d arrest you. I intend to kill you.”

“…So, that means you’re not with the Heavenly Will Alliance.”

The corner of Dong Neung’s mouth lifted.

Jin-hyeon smiled too. It was much the same smile that Dong Neung had.

“So even a mad killer knows to fear the Heavenly Will Alliance?”

“Fear it? Of course. Who in our time doesn’t fear it?”

“The Heavenly Will Alliance isn’t a thing to fear. It should be a bulwark. Fearing it means you aren’t normal.”

“You wretch! Such impudence! What’s your name!”

“Hearing my name won’t reassure you. The world doesn’t know it yet.”

Jin-hyeon lowered his stance.

“It’s the day before the Radiant Sword Festival. I’ll take your head to the after-gathering.”