BOOOOM!
The ground heaved under a massive wave of energy called mana, and the snow thrown into the air rose like a colossal wall.
The moment everything turned white—
Rrip.
A dazzling streak of light tore through Song Cheonwoo’s sleeve and shot outward.
The slender, razor-sharp blade was an unusual weapon, modified for this one strike.
I’m sorry.
With that brief apology, unheard by anyone, Song Cheonwoo moved like a flash.
Swish.
He lowered his stance, straightened his rear leg, bent his front leg at an angle, and put his strength behind the thrust.
The motion flowed as smoothly as water, perfected through more attempts than anyone could count. Wrapped in blinding aura, the blade pierced through space.
SHWAAA!
A sharp whistle tore through the air, as though it could cut anything in its path.
Song Cheonwoo had retired from active duty and was nearing seventy, but no one could deny his strength.
The instincts engraved in his body by the Great Cataclysm—and the tremendous mana coiled within him—defied the passing years.
There was no way a youngster who wasn’t even thirty could block his strike.
It’s over.
Song Cheonwoo was certain.
Until, an instant later, something stopped his blade as it pierced the wall of wind and snow.
SKRAAAK!
“……!”
A powerful resistance ran up the blade. Song Cheonwoo’s eyes flew wide as a thunderous roar rang out.
BOOOOM!
Mana collided with mana. The gale from the impact clawed at everything around them.
The wall of snow collapsed, and snow scattered through the air.
Beyond it was a pair of deep, steady eyes.
“So this was the trap Go Jun prepared.”
Song Cheonwoo let out a low groan. Choi Minwoo had caught the strike with the flat of his sword.
“How did you……?”
It was impossible. Song Cheonwoo clearly remembered Choi Minwoo’s stay at the European regional branch several years earlier, when he had still been in his early twenties.
The youngster had possessed outstanding natural talent, but his skills had fallen far short of it.
Yet now…
Rrrrrumble.
Song Cheonwoo could feel the strength behind Choi’s sword pressing against his own.
The young man facing him was no longer a youngster. He had become a formidable fighter.
And Song Cheonwoo’s plan had suffered a major setback.
So blood really does tell.
Cheon Taemin.
The name weighed on his heart, and suddenly his sword felt heavier too. But he had come too far to turn back.
He had crossed the river long ago and sunk his own boat. If he wanted to protect the family Go Jun held captive, he could not retreat.
I have to kill him here. No matter what.
Song Cheonwoo clenched his teeth. Mana surged through his sturdy body, seemingly untouched by age.
His wrist traced an arc, and the sharp tip of his sword slid across the flat of Choi Minwoo’s blade.
Clack. Swish!
It missed by a hair. The tip grazed past Choi Minwoo’s neck and stabbed into empty air.
Sword pressure split the skin of his neck, sending a stream of blood into the air.
Someone watching cried out.
“Young Master!”
The shout held grief, urgency, and fury.
The newcomer closed the hundreds of meters1 between them in an instant. With a flick of his sleeve, the surrounding air grew hot.
Fwoooosh!
Flames made of mana erupted and rose between Song Cheonwoo and the others. The snow on the mountain melted and evaporated.
Through the scorching heat, Song Cheonwoo saw the old butler approaching beyond Choi’s shoulder. Choi backed away, steadying his breath.
“So you’ve come.”
Song Cheonwoo looked calmly at Butler Kim.
Once, they had called each other older and younger brother. Butler Kim had been one of the few comrades Song trusted to watch his back on the battlefield.
For both of them, that belonged to the past.
“I resented you, but I never hated you. But……”
Fwoosh.
A fierce heat burst forth. Flames formed in midair, coiled around Butler Kim’s hands, and took on a new shape.
Song Cheonwoo gazed wistfully at the man now holding a whip of fire in each hand.
“Now you finally look like yourself. The Kim Hwajong I knew.”
Butler Kim—no, Kim Hwajong—gripped the fiery whips and stepped forward.
Thud.
Lava seemed to boil in eyes that had always been calm.
The old butler, who had preserved his loyalty without wavering through all the years that had passed, had returned to the vigorous figure he had been in the past.
“Shut your fucking mouth, you piece of shit.”
“……!”
Choi Minwoo stared, mouth open. He had never seen Kim Hwajong like this.
Swish! FWOOSH!
Following the arc of the sword as it swung, the wall of fire separating the three of them split apart.
And Choi Minwoo saw it.
Song Cheonwoo was watching them with a calm expression. Somehow, a pure white necklace now hung around his neck.
That’s…
Song Cheonwoo spoke the name of the necklace Choi knew so well.
“It’s a Yeti’s Necklace. When you told me to come here, I thought it was bound to be useful.”
Song Cheonwoo turned his head. Beyond the crevasse, hundreds of yetis were surging down the mountain with the avalanche.
“And this time, it seems I was right. Don’t you agree?”
—Kyaaaaaaar!
Watching the hundreds of yetis charge toward them, Choi Minwoo felt his grip tighten around his sword.
A Yeti’s Necklace.
Choi Minwoo knew what the little necklace did. So did Kim Hwajong.
Only a few months earlier, Won Myunghoon had prepared the magic item to trap Jin Taekyung in the Black Wyvern’s nest.
A slave’s mark that draws in dragonkin monsters.
Even monsters had their hierarchies.
Yetis, the giants of the snowy mountains, were slaves and prey to dragonkin. But the Yeti’s Necklace did more than attract dragonkin monsters.
It marked its wearer as a slave of the dragonkin—and, to yetis, as one of their own.
“You……!”
Choi Minwoo’s shout toward Song Cheonwoo never finished.
RUMBLE! Rat-a-tat!
An enormous avalanche swept forward. Hundreds of yetis raced across it as though riding a wave, then leaped over the crevasse.
Song Cheonwoo was closest, but while he wore a necklace carrying a yeti’s scent, he was no different from one of their own.
—Kraaaaaar!
The savage roar shook the snowfield.
Song Cheonwoo glanced at the hundreds of shadows leaping over his head and charging toward the other two before speaking.
“Hwajong. You’d better stay out of this.”
“You fucking bastard! I’ll tear you apart!”
Kim Hwajong roared and swung his whips of fire.
Whoooosh! BOOM!
Flames of tremendous heat swept through the air, burning everything they touched. But the hundreds of yetis had been strengthened by magical power, and the deaths of their own kind did not slow them.
If anything, the magical power rising from them grew more ferocious.
—Kraaaaaar!
“……!”
There were too many.
Kim Hwajong bit down on his lip. Then Choi Minwoo’s quiet voice reached him.
“It’s all right, Butler Kim.”
“Young Master!”
“The yetis will only make my fight harder.”
“But……!”
“Go. I’ll take care of things here.”
Kim Hwajong stopped before he could argue.
For a moment, the old butler looked into Choi Minwoo’s unwavering eyes. Then, without a word, he kicked off the ground.
He swung the fiery whips in both hands, drawing the hundreds of yetis after him.
RUMBLE!
—Kyaaaa!
The yetis moved away in pursuit of the heat. At the same time, Song Cheonwoo stepped forward.
Crunch.
He took one step through the snow. His hand blurred, and his aura-wrapped sword tore through the air on every side.
SHWAAAAK! Slice!
Aura was the essence of mana’s true power.
The razor-sharp, destructive energy surged outward, cleaving through space. Wind, snow, rock—none of them could stop it.
Only another aura could.
Swish! Slice!
Sword strikes slashed through the air without pause. Skin split, and drops of blood flew.
Choi Minwoo narrowly avoided the streaks of light cutting across him. His eyes grew steady, and he tightened his grip on his sword.
Whoooosh.
Hero’s Soul. The sword left behind by a noble hero trembled.
Pure white aura, resembling the snowy mountain, coiled around the blade and surged upward. Choi Minwoo gripped the sword tightly with both hands and smoothly rotated his upper body.
Shiiiiing.
Aura against aura. Light against light.
The instant two flashes of different colors met—
RUMBLE-RUMBLE-RUMBLE!
A massive shock wave shook the mountain. Snowdrifts within dozens of meters2 turned to powder and scattered.
Two pale figures streaked through the white.
Swish, swish, swish!
BOOM! CRASH!
Two figures. Two swords. Their auras cut through the air and collided.
Each clash sent out another tremendous shock wave, sweeping away snow and tearing up the ground.
Red liquid dropped onto the dark green ground, revealed for the first time in ages beneath the snow.
Trickle.
Choi Minwoo felt hot blood run down his wrist. His shoulder throbbed, and cold sweat gathered on his forehead until it touched his eyebrows.
He had no time to stop the bleeding or wipe away the sweat.
The man facing him was still raining down sword strikes filled with killing intent.
SHIIING! Slice!
The attack missed by a hair. Solid rock split like tofu.
Choi Minwoo exhaled sharply as he dodged. His opponent’s face came into view, his killing intent so fierce it made Choi’s whole body prickle.
Song Cheonwoo.
A hero of the Great Cataclysm, once counted among the greatest Hunters alongside Lee Jungryong. His skill was terrifying.
It was one reason he had survived despite knowing a truth that could never be allowed into the open.
Shing!
Choi Minwoo jerked his head aside. Fierce wind sent strands of hair flying. A moment slower, and it would have been his neck.
So why didn’t he feel the terror of death he had felt in Sichuan?
Heh.
A quiet laugh escaped him instead. He had suddenly remembered a conversation with someone who wasn’t here.
“This might sound a little crazy, but sometimes I start laughing when I’m in a situation where I feel like I’m going to die.”
“You really are quite insane.”
“But… whenever I start laughing, I always end up winning somehow.”
Choi Minwoo didn’t know why that passing conversation had come to mind now.
But at last, he felt he understood a little of what the man had meant.
I won’t die.
It was faith in himself. The will to keep fighting until the very end.
Choi Minwoo had made that insight his own when, exhausted and wounded, he had walked toward thousands of monsters.
Shing. Slice!
Burning pain shot through his thigh.
Choi Minwoo twisted, staggered, and Song Cheonwoo pressed his attack even harder.
Swish, swish, swish! Slice!
This time, it was his arm.
Thunk!
Then his side.
Choi Minwoo endured the pain and kept moving forward.
He met the rain of sword strikes, taking one step, then another. The sword in his hand trembled.
Whoooom.
Hero’s Soul. The sword passed down to him from a hero who had fulfilled his duty even after becoming a vengeful spirit.
A legendary blade that granted greater power to one worthy of wielding it.
Fwoooooom!
The blade shuddered. Brilliant light swelled around its aura.
Song Cheonwoo’s eyes widened.
“You……!”
“One last question.”
Choi Minwoo’s gaze was cold, but his voice burned.
He put all his strength into a single strike.
“Have you forgotten whose blood flows through my veins?”
“……!”
Shiiing!
A massive streak of light cleaved through space.
Within the blinding flash that filled his vision, Song Cheonwoo felt a bolt of lightning cut across his chest.
Slice!
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