Chapter 62

The world seemed to stop.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears, and I could see every last grain of dirt drifting through the air.

And then…

Whoooosh.

A flash of light.

The glow pouring from the Sword Force was beautiful—and unerring. I could feel the devastating power in it, enough to split not only my spearhead but my body itself in two.

It’s over.

I had done my best. It would be a lie to say I had no regrets at all, but that wouldn’t change the outcome.

All I could do was meet it with everything I had left.

Shwaaaak!

The spearhead tore through the wind. The Sword Force erased it.

That was the instant death came striding in.

Shreeeek! Thunk!

The Head Elder’s eyes flew wide.

A mysterious figure had sprung up with lightning speed and driven a dagger into his dantian.

“You…”

“You should’ve struck a lethal acupoint.”

It was an ambush no one could have expected.

Until a moment ago, he had been nothing more than one of the countless corpses scattered around us.

But he wasn’t.

He had merely been waiting with extraordinary patience for the right moment—the moment he could avenge his child.

The Head Elder screamed.

“Lee Cheonbaek!”

“Kahahaha!”

The instant Lee Cheonbaek burst into wild laughter, my spearhead punched into his back.

It tore through flesh and bone, driving forward without resistance.

System

• You have defeated Lv. 75 Lee Cheonbaek!
• Level up!
• Level up!
• Level up!
• …
• All status ailments have been recovered due to the stacked effect of the level-ups!

The change came at once.

My aching muscles, my heavy feet, my empty dantian—all of them swelled with new strength.

At the same time, I knew what I had to do.

One Annihilation.

Once more, a white vortex erupted.

Kraaaack!

A narrow escape.¹

Never in my life had those four syllables hit so close to home.

I had really died and come back. I’d even seen a vision of going through immigration into hell, sharing a passionate hug with Yama,² and snapping a commemorative photo together.

If it hadn’t been for Lee Cheonbaek, that vision would have become reality.

Good thing I saved him.

I wanted to close Lee Cheonbaek’s eyes so he could rest in peace, but there was still work to do.

“Should’ve lived a decent life, then. Just a little.”

The Head Elder gave a quiet laugh. He looked horrific.

One Annihilation had swallowed his remaining arm, and it hadn’t stopped there—it had punched a hole the size of a fist through his chest.

“What a nasty-hearted brat. Have you no manners toward a dying old man?”

“The old folks I know spend their twilight years enjoying their grandchildren’s antics. They don’t run around trying to kill them like you, you old bastard.”

“Why, you brat! Try acting like a grandson before you say something like that.”

He laughed heartily. He looked deflated, yet relieved, as though he had finally let go of everything.

“Taekyung is a good kid. If you had opened your heart first, the two of you might have been close as grandfather and grandson.”

The Head Elder turned his head.

Jin Wikyung stood there, sword in hand.

“Are you planning to stab me with that sword?”

“I’m considering it.”

“You’d better finish considering it quickly. I don’t have much time left.”

His words were true.

Even now, as he talked as though nothing were wrong, blood poured like a waterfall from the severed stumps of both arms and from his lower abdomen.

On top of that, there was the backlash from drawing out his innate qi.

The fact that he was still alive felt like a miracle.

“You look like you’re suffering.”

“No. I’m growing comfortable.”

The answer was firm.

“I was barely thirty when the Great Faction War began. After that, I never once rested easy—not even for a moment. No…”

The Head Elder went on in a strained voice.

“In truth, perhaps I’ve been tired for a very long time.”

I muttered in disbelief.

“You did all that, and now you’re coming out with this?”

“Taekyung!”

Jin Wikyung sent me a mildly reproachful look, but the Head Elder did not seem offended. A breathy laugh escaped his closed lips.

“Puh-huh. Yes, you’re right. Just think of it as a senile old man’s bullshit.”

“Looks like it really is time for you to die.”

“Hey! You little brat!”

“What? It’s not like I said anything wrong.”

The Head Elder watched Jin Wikyung and me bicker through fading eyes.

“There was a time when we were like you two. Yes. There certainly was.”

But he no longer had time to linger over those memories.

“Cough! Guaaack!”

The Head Elder staggered after vomiting what looked like a whole bowlful of blood.

He was at death’s door. Every capillary in his eyes had burst, and the blood pouring from his body had long since pooled at his feet.

Anyone could see there was no hope left for him.

He’s really dying? That Head Elder?

Everyone dies.

Hundreds of lives had vanished on this battlefield alone—perhaps more than a thousand.

But the Head Elder’s death was something I had never even been able to imagine.

That was how overwhelming his martial prowess had been. It made his current state look all the more wretched.

And that only made me more curious.

“Why are you holding on this hard?”

The Head Elder answered.

“Because I want to tell those who went before me… that I did my best.”

“Any regrets?”

“None.”

He smiled broadly and thrust out his chest.

“Finish it. With your own hands.”

I raised my spear.

Jin Wikyung wore a troubled expression, but he did not try to stop me.

Shhk!

A single gust of wind passed, and the Head Elder’s knees—which had seemed incapable of ever buckling—touched the ground.

A peaceful smile appeared on his wrinkled face.

At the final moment, his lips moved, but no sound came out.

That was all.

System

• You have defeated Lv. 95 Jin Baekyang!
• Quest Traitor completed!
• Your Level has increased greatly!
• Your Fame has increased greatly!

For one brief moment, silence fell.

Then a colossal roar erupted—unlike anything I had ever heard.

“The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi, Jin Taekyung, has cut down the Blade of Flowers, Jin Baekyang!”

System

• You have acquired the Title Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi!

Dozens.

Maybe hundreds.

Every survivor was shouting my name.

The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi.

I rather liked my new name.

“Third Young Master Jin Taekyung of the Jin Family of Taiyuan cut down the Head Elder!”

“The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi defeated the Blade of Flowers!”

“The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi…”

Wipeng gave a quiet laugh.

He was the wastrel Third Young Master who had never even been called an earth dragon.³

But now, there was no denying it.

He was a Hidden Dragon.

If he obtained the dragon pearl,⁴ he could roam the azure heaven.

“What do you make of it?”

The First Elder answered.

“Do you believe that?”

“Everyone is shouting that the Head Elder is dead.”

“That is because my lord wanted it that way. A mere Third Young Master killing him? It’s laughable.”

“You can see that from here? Sharp eyes.”

“This is what comes of letting your attention wander. Hahaha.”

He was leaning at an angle against a heap of corpses.

A sword wound split him on a slant from about the shoulder to the waist, and blood poured from it in torrents.

“Surrender. If we treat you now, you can live.”

“No. This old man’s end was decided long ago. A very painful death.”

Wipeng shook his head.

“I won’t allow it.”

“My death does not require permission. Neither you nor even I can do anything about it.”

“What does that mean?”

Wipeng furrowed his brow, unable to follow, when—

“Beware Dark Heaven… Grrk.”

It happened in an instant.

Blood poured from all seven of the First Elder’s orifices. His eyes rolled back, and his entire body convulsed.

“First Elder!”

By the time Wipeng hurried over, the First Elder had already stopped breathing.

Just as he had said, he had met a painful death. His face was twisted grotesquely.

This is…

Poison? Or a restriction?

There was no way to know yet.

Wipeng carved the single word that had become the First Elder’s last deep into his mind.

Dark Heaven. He definitely said Dark Heaven.

It was the only clue the First Elder had left behind.

Wipeng stared at the dead man’s face with mixed emotions, then turned away.

“I, Wipeng, cut down the First Elder!”

Despair spread across the faces of the black-clad men.

Faced with two paths—death or surrender—they chose the latter.

Clang. Clatter-clatter.

Weapons fell limply to the ground.

The war was over.

Where there were the dead, there were also survivors.

Jin Chung, Sect Leader of the Gunggui Sect,⁵ was one of them. He had climbed to the top of the cliff before the battle began.

“How futile.”

It had been a grand scheme to which he had devoted half his life.

The result had been disastrous.

The Head Elder he had served as his lord, the Elders he had treated as brothers, and the Sect Leaders of the Five Gates of Shanxi were all dead.

The survivors’ last desperate struggle was over as well.

Now, only he remained.

So this is how it ends.

Jin Chung turned around.

Fifty martial artists of the Gunggui Sect were waiting for his orders.

“Leave.”

A subtle ripple of agitation passed through them.

One of the nearest martial artists spoke cautiously.

“Sect Leader, what do you mean…?”

“This fight is already over. I will not force you to sacrifice yourselves. Leave by this road. Scatter as widely as you can and get out of Shanxi. If you do, you may at least save your lives.”

The martial artist nodded resolutely.

“I will follow you until I die.”

“I… will remain here.”

“What?”

His confusion lasted only a moment before his voice began to tremble with emotion.

“Is it because of us?”

“Not at all.”

Jin Chung answered firmly, but his thoughts were different.

If I went with them, the Jin Family of Taiyuan would hunt them relentlessly.

The Five Gates of Shanxi were many, yet one.

One, yet many.

They had been created for the same purpose, but each sect had raised its martial artists in a different way.

Jin Chung had not raised them as weapons.

He had taken them in as disciples.

“Sect Leader!”

“Please lead us!”

Every one of them had been an orphan with nowhere to go.

For at least ten years—twenty or more in some cases—he had fed them, sheltered them, and taught them martial arts.

If the grand scheme had succeeded, they would have become the backbone of Shanxi’s Murim.

Now that it had failed, they were nothing more than traitors.

“Do you not understand what’s happening?”

“Even if we die, we will stay with you, Sect Leader.”

“You fool!”

“Please allow us.”

The martial artist who had stepped forward first slammed his forehead against the stone ground.

Then, one by one, his disciples began to kneel.

Jin Chung looked up at the sky and lamented.

“If only the grand scheme had not been delayed. If only they had stepped forward!”

Talk of them was a secret known only to the eight leaders.

Speaking those words aloud was no different from deciding to share his final moments with his disciples.

This too must be heaven’s will.

Jin Chung turned his gaze from the dark night sky and helped the prostrate martial artist to his feet.

He felt endlessly sorry—and deeply moved—by the loyalty the man had shown.

“That’s enough. Get up.”

At the warmth in his voice, the martial artist lifted his head.

He flicked his tongue over the trickle of blood running down his forehead, then gave a crooked grin.

“Yes.”

Thuck!

Jin Chung stared blankly at the martial artist.

The shock was so great he could not even feel the pain.

What in the world…?

Shwaaak!

The martial artist pulled his hand from Jin Chung’s chest.

A glow brighter than moonlight clung to it—a blood-red Force so ominous that the mere sight of it inspired dread.

“You…”

“You already know, so why ask? Oh, and about what you just said—I’ll give you a simple answer.”

The martial artist’s smile deepened.

“Why would we step forward? This is as far as your role goes.”

Jin Chung’s eyes flew wide.

Them.

The unknown beings who had never revealed themselves until the very end.

Dark Heaven!

“You bastards!”

“Don’t look at me like you’ve been used. Have you forgotten who got you out of that hell alive?”

Jin Chung remembered the nightmare from forty years ago.

The corpses of allies covering the ground around him.

The endless army of the Demonic Cult surging toward them.

They had gathered around the Head Elder and prepared themselves to die.

That was before Dark Heaven appeared.

“We saved your lives and gave you a chance at revenge. What more did you want?”

He was right.

Dark Heaven had annihilated the Demonic Cult’s army, then proposed a deal.

They had accepted.

It meant having a gu⁶ planted in their heads, but they would have done anything for revenge.

But…

“Wasn’t your real aim to use us to rule Shanxi?”

“Well, maybe that was the plan at first.”

“Then what was it all for?”

The martial artist grinned.

“A bigger picture.”

At the same time, his bloodstained hand pressed against Jin Chung’s chest.

Boom.

A small explosion went off inside Jin Chung’s body.

The energy burst his eardrums, tore his blood vessels apart strand by strand, and reached his heart.

Just like this…

The thought went no further.

Jin Chung’s lifeless body flew like a bird and plunged off the cliff.

Shiiiiik! Crash!

The martial artist glanced down and grimaced.

“Ouch. That must’ve hurt.”

When he turned around, screams and blood were waiting for him.

Ten black-clad men who had appeared out of nowhere were massacring the Gunggui Sect’s disciples.

“Let’s finish this quickly and go.”

“As you command.”

Shreeeeek! Thud!

The martial artist turned his gaze toward the bottom of the cliff.

Screams erupted all around him, but below the cliff, the air was filled with cheers and shouts.

“The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi!”

“Jin Taekyung! Jin Taekyung!”

“The Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi…”

The plan had succeeded.

But Jin Taekyung’s appearance had been a variable even he had not anticipated.

He did not like that.

Take him out, or let him be?

If he set his mind to it, he could tear him out by the roots.

His deepening gaze turned toward Jin Taekyung, ringed by cheers.

“Our youngest! My little brother!”

“Let go! Let go, you idiot!”

A snort of laughter escaped him.

I’ll let you live. For today.

The martial artist turned away.

Some fifty corpses lay like a carpet in his wake.