Chapter 266

“You’ve broken free of your shell.”

A clear voice rang out.

Cheongpung thought of the sunlight and blue sky over Lotus Peak. The Blood Lord felt as though his heart had dropped into his stomach.

He had failed to sense someone barely two hundred feet away. He, of all people.

His eyes narrowed at the man walking up the mountain path.

That bastard…

He had a slender build and an approachable face. He looked to be in his mid-twenties at most.

A sword had been shoved carelessly through his belt without a scabbard, its blade covered entirely in reddish rust.

A dry voice slipped from the Blood Lord’s lips.

“The Always-Victorious Sword?”

The young man, Jongni Chu, smiled faintly.

“I was always worried.”

“What?”

“About what kind of storms a fearless, innocent child would face once he entered the martial world.”

“What the hell are you talking about…?”

The Blood Lord was about to continue when realization struck him.

From the very beginning, Jongni Chu’s every word and action had been directed at one person alone.

“But it’s all right now. You overcame it so well.”

His gaze and voice were warm.

At last, a faint smile touched Cheongpung’s lips as he struggled for breath.

Watching that, the Blood Lord let out a hollow laugh.

“Would you look at these two…”

They were treating him as though he did not even exist.

Him—the man who inspired fear and awe in countless people, even within Dark Heaven.

The blatant disregard of these young pups made his grip tighten.

Crack.

“Ghk!”

With the sound of bones twisting out of place, a gush of blood burst from between Cheongpung’s lips.

As Cheongpung groaned in pain and lost consciousness, Jongni Chu’s quiet voice reached the Blood Lord’s ears.

“That’s enough.”

Seeing the smile vanish from Jongni Chu’s face made the Blood Lord feel considerably better.

He grinned and opened his mouth.

“So now you can finally see me.”

“I saw you from the beginning. I merely lost you while chasing your retreating back.”

The Blood Lord frowned as he listened.

“Was that you? The fearless bastard who interfered with me?”

“I was one step too late. A regrettable thing.”

As Jongni Chu calmly answered, the Blood Lord slowly looked him up and down.

The Always-Victorious Sword, Jongni Chu. He’s the one?

Jongni Chu had intervened just as the Blood Lord was about to finish off Dharma King Hong Dao. The rapidly approaching presence had forced him to turn away before he could deliver the final blow.

From what I sensed then, his aura was at least beyond the Ten Kings.

Even the Blood Lord would be in trouble if he were held back inside the Murim Alliance. After withdrawing and leaving the dying Hong Dao behind, that bastard had continued chasing him for quite some time.

He nearly caught me.

Fortunately, the martial art the Blood Lord practiced transcended all common sense.

And yet that mysterious master had been Jongni Chu. The Blood Lord shot him a suspicious look.

“You’ve already chased me this far. You’re quick on your feet.”

“Not as quick as you. That movement technique of yours was unlike anything I’ve ever seen or heard of.”

The Blood Lord’s eyes narrowed.

His opponent was absurdly young. He also seemed close to Cheongpung, and his realm of martial arts was almost impossible to believe.

“You. What is your relationship with the Martial God?”

Jongni Chu stroked his smooth chin, as was his habit.

“The Martial God… I did receive a few teachings from him.”

“Are you his Disciple?”

“Even a suckling infant can teach us something. Everyone we encounter in life is both teacher and student to one another.”

“Enough with the vague Zen riddles. Answer me before I break this brat’s neck.”

Instead of answering, Jongni Chu merely regarded him with calm eyes.

They were deep enough to draw a man in forever, yet tranquil as a lake on a windless day.

What is this feeling?

It was strange. They had only met each other’s eyes, yet the Blood Lord could not make his hand tighten.

No—it felt as though the strength were slowly draining from his fingers. As if something invisible had seized his wrist and refused to let go.

This is almost like…

The Blood Lord clenched his teeth as the thought surfaced.

No.

That was impossible. How dare he think of that person while looking at some worthless orthodox-faction stray?

It can’t be. All I have to do is cut down a bastard like him in one stroke.

He forced himself to regain his composure, but an inexplicable unease was already growing inside him.

Could he truly defeat this man?

Could he escape this place?

The Blood Lord slowly licked his parched lips.

“You… Who the hell are you?”

Dark Heaven’s information network stretched wide and ran deep throughout the land. Yet it had failed to uncover the identity of one person: Jongni Chu.

A mysterious figure whose face and origins were entirely unknown.

Jongni Chu tilted his head.

“Is that important?”

“What?”

“If a few words could persuade you to stop, I would tell you. But you won’t stop.”

His tranquil voice continued.

“There are people hovering between life and death even now. If you refuse to stop on your own, I have no choice but to stop you by force.”

Shhk.

With that, Jongni Chu drew the sword shoved carelessly through his belt. As the hopelessly rusted blade emerged, a sneer curled the Blood Lord’s lips.

“You’ll stop me? With that thing that barely qualifies as a sword?”

“Well, it still seems more useful than one might think.”

“Have you ever cut anyone with that sword?”

“Countless people. They aren’t memories I take much pride in.”

“Don’t compare me to some pack of nobodies. Who was the last person you cut down? A bandit no better than a slash-and-burn farmer? Or perhaps…”

At that moment, a low voice slipped from Jongni Chu’s lips.

“The Heaven-Poison Demon Lord.”

The Blood Lord went rigid.

The Heaven-Poison Demon Lord.

No martial artist could fail to recognize that title.

During the Great Faction War, he had been the greatest of archfiends, sweeping across the land while worshiping the Heavenly Demon—the Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—as a god.

He had been second-in-command of the Demonic Cult, which had once devoured half the world.

That was the Heaven-Poison Demon Lord.

But even he had been unable to escape the fate of a mere martial artist.

One day, after his evil reputation had grown darker with every passing day, he encountered a certain person. The Heaven-Poison Demon Lord met his death that day, and the one who killed him gained a new name.

“The Sword Saint…!”

The Blood Lord trembled as though struck by lightning.

Sword Saint Mae Jonghak.

That name had briefly crossed his mind when he tried to guess Jongni Chu’s identity. But he had soon shaken his head.

It was impossible.

It could not be allowed to be true.

A strained voice finally escaped his lips.

“You… How could you…?”

Jongni Chu—or rather, Sword Saint Mae Jonghak—ran his fingers along the blade as he answered.

“When the Great Faction War ended, I found myself wondering what I should do next. It didn’t take me long to decide. I simply loved martial arts.”

Scrape. Scrape.

Each pass of the violet Palm Force coating his hand stripped away the reddish rust, revealing the clear blade beneath.

“I devoted myself ceaselessly to martial arts. The child I took in late in life, who was like a grandson to me, became my Disciple—and at times, my teacher as well. Just when I thought I had reached Great Completion, I saw another wall before me.”

Sword Saint Mae Jonghak.

The great martial artist, who had already reached an exalted realm decades ago, had once again stepped into a new domain.

For a man already prepared in every way, a higher enlightenment had arrived.

“Even I didn’t expect to be Returned to Youth. In any case, finding myself unexpectedly young again made me curious about the outside world. I also found myself thinking about that aggravating grandson of mine who ran away a year ago.”

And so Sword Saint Mae Jonghak had entered the world and traveled throughout the land under the name Jongni Chu.

He was already a figure from the distant past. No one suspected that Mae Jonghak had returned to the body of a twenty-year-old.

Not even Dark Heaven, whose web stretched across the land.

“It was an enjoyable time. Until you people appeared.”

Shhk!

The last traces of rust peeled away.

At last, his cherished sword regained its true form and gleamed coldly.

Hundreds—perhaps thousands. The sword that had drunk the blood of countless fiends now pointed at the Blood Lord.

“Just as I said, isn’t this sword still useful?”

The next instant, a violet flash erupted.

Slash!

“…Huh?”

The Blood Lord blinked.

Time seemed to slow as Cheongpung’s body toppled into view.

So did a familiar wrist—the one attached to the hand gripping the unconscious Cheongpung’s throat.

That’s…

My hand.

The next thought was drowned beneath a surge of blood and pain. His mouth dropped open, and a scream tore from it.

“Gaaaaah!”

But it was not over yet.

As the Blood Lord staggered backward, screaming, a cold voice pursued him.

“You’ve accumulated sins that can never be washed away. Shouldn’t you pay the price?”

Whoosh!

Every hair on the Blood Lord’s body stood on end.

It was like a hallucination. The entire landscape vanished, and a single sword aimed at his chest consumed his every sense.

Shhk.

The sword glided through the air. The violet Force of the Zaha Divine Technique transformed into thirty-six plum blossoms that scattered in every direction.

At the beautiful sight, the Blood Lord murmured as though groaning.

“The Thirty-Six Plum Blossom Swords.”

But it was different.

Unmistakably different.

If the Thirty-Six Plum Blossom Swords Cheongpung had used earlier were a supreme technique, what Mae Jonghak now displayed was a divine feat beyond martial arts.

That very divine technique was boring into the vital points throughout the Blood Lord’s body.

I can’t stop this.

Horrified, the Blood Lord tried to throw himself aside.

Grab!

A hand clamped around his ankle.

Jin Taekyung, whom he had thought spent and unconscious, grinned up at him through bloodstained teeth.

“Where do you think you’re going, motherfucker?”

“You—!”

Papapapapat!

The rest of his words never came.

Violet flashes filled his eyes. Blood sprayed, and flesh split apart. The immense agony wiped his mind blank.

“Ghk!”

This was on an entirely different level. There was no way to block the Sword Energy hurtling across more than a hundred feet.

Slash! Slash!

Then, as his consciousness began to fade, the Blood Lord’s eyes suddenly flashed.

No. If I use that—if I use that, I can survive.

His mission was already complete. The Green Jade Buddha Staff in his hand—the only one left—was proof of that.

It was regrettable that he had failed to kill the Fire King, but…

As long as he lived, there would always be another chance.

He glared at Jin Taekyung with a resentful gaze. Even as he vomited clots of blood, Taekyung was smiling.

“Just you wait. I’ll kill you with my own hands.”

“What?”

“Stay alive until then. Make sure of it.”

The Blood Lord’s lips curled upward.

Mae Jonghak, who sensed what he intended, stiffened and sent Sword Energy flying with a rigid expression.

“Stop!”

Shriek! Slash!

The Blood Lord’s one remaining arm was severed cleanly at the shoulder.

“Lord of Heaven!”

Whoosh!

With that shout, he drew upon the last of his strength and shot forward like lightning. His teeth clamped down hard on his own severed arm—or rather, on the Green Jade Buddha Staff it still held.

And then—

Fwoom!

A black radiance, ominous even to behold, swallowed his entire body.

Then it vanished without a trace, taking the Blood Lord with it.

As though it had never existed in the first place.