When receiving a new sword, the beginning is important.
A sword communes with the martial artist who wields it, and with an peerless treasured sword like the Black Demon Sword, the depth of that communion cannot be compared to that of other swords.
There are no cases where a sword rejects a martial artist, but if that communion is not properly achieved, one cannot draw out the sword’s power to its fullest.
The same is true when one fails to properly understand the nature of a sword. For instance, when a weapon imbued with the energy of extreme yin is used by someone with the internal energy of extreme yang, or when a weapon of the Buddhist sect is used by someone who practices evil arts.
In addition, the way one handles the sword is important. Treating a sword with a rough nature, like this Black Demon Sword, gently, or handling the supple White Flower Sword roughly—such things also prevent a sword from fully displaying its power.
In my life before regression, I had once seen a sword become one with its master and cry out on its own. It had truly been a magnificent sight, and I had thought that I, too, wanted to possess such a sword.
‘Can I become one with this sword like that?’
After calming my mind through circulating my energy and regulating my breath, I drew the Black Demon Sword.
Even though I had not infused it with true qi, the keen edge of the sword itself made the surroundings turn chilly.
—Good to meet you. From now on, I am your master.
Slowly, I infused the Black Demon Sword with my internal energy. It was the first moment my inner power and the Black Demon Sword met.
And then, sword gang began to rise.
A blue wave resembling the sky rippled along the blade.
‘It’s definitely different!’
It was different from the color of my sword gang until now. Since it was the Black Demon Sword, I had thought it would become darker and deeper, but instead, it was a blue that felt even brighter and more radiant. Just as there are times when one is moved more by trivial things, I was truly pleased that the color of my sword gang had changed.
‘I like you.’
I hoped my emotions would be conveyed to the Black Demon Sword exactly as they were.
After withdrawing the sword gang, this time I executed the forms of the Flying Heaven Sword Art.
The Black Demon Sword was not a gentle sword. In accordance with the sword’s nature, I had to operate the forms with as much powerful and rough momentum as possible.
The Flying Heaven Sword Art unleashed with the Black Demon Sword gave a different feeling from when I had used it before.
After completing the forms once, I spoke to the sword in my heart.
—For the time being, we’ll survive with this sword art. Later, I’ll teach you a truly incredible martial art. Let’s hold out well until then. Understood?
I strove to commune with the Black Demon Sword.
It was not something that could be done merely by conveying my feelings, so I trained and trained again until the Black Demon Sword became familiar in my hand.
I ate and trained, trained as soon as I opened my eyes. At times, I trained without even eating. Even when I slept, I slept with it in my hand. I trained even in my dreams.
Like that, for a while, I devoted myself solely to training.
Today as well, I was leaving the house to go to the training ground when I was startled by the sight spread out before my eyes.
Hundreds of demonic martial artists were filling the large open space in front of the house.
They were the Blade Ghosts, the subordinates of the Blood Heaven Blade Demon. I could not tell whether the Blood Heaven Blade Demon had ordered them to come or whether they had come of their own accord, but it was certain that the emotions they held toward me were hostile.
Along with their cold gazes, the demonic energy they exuded poured down upon me.
Without realizing it, I clenched my molars. Even in that long life before my regression, I had never received the energy of so many people all at once. Even if it had been benevolent energy, it would have been overwhelming—yet this was clear killing intent.
If I endured any longer, I would suffer internal injuries!
Even so, when I did not retreat, their demonic energy grew even stronger. Truly, the demonic energy struck into my body like a shower, pattering down in blows. When my entire body felt as though it would be torn apart, one secret art suddenly came to mind.
While accepting the demonic energy in its entirety, I began to employ a certain mnemonic formula.
Thousand Meridian Strengthening Art.
It was one of several secret arts I had learned in my life before regression, a secret art capable of strengthening the blood meridians.
The blood meridians, the pathways of true qi, are the most important parts of a martial artist, but they are also among the most difficult parts of the body to strengthen.
The Thousand Meridian Strengthening Art was a secret art in which several martial artists simultaneously emitted their internal energy and struck the target’s entire body to strengthen the blood meridians. The greater the number, the better the effect.
Since opportunities to receive this much demonic energy all at once were rare, I took the risk and activated the Thousand Meridian Strengthening Art.
I had hoped I would be able to use it someday, but to think that day would be today.
When I closed my eyes and deliberately made a pained expression, the bastards, delighted, poured out even stronger demonic energy.
‘More, more, more!’
The more pleased I was, the more I furrowed my brow.
They must have wanted me to retreat. They must have wanted me to hide inside the house to avoid the demonic energy. They probably wanted to pressure me here for days and turn me into a coward who could not even step outside.
While unfolding the Thousand Meridian Strengthening Art, I took one step forward at a time.
Then the demonic energy poured down even more fiercely.
The blood meridians throughout my body convulsed, and my true qi whirled through my entire body at a terrifying speed according to the formula of the Meridian Strengthening Art.
Now the realm of the Thousand Meridian Strengthening Art was passing through the second stage and continuing into the third.
‘More, more, more!’
With each step I took forward, their demonic energy went into a frenzy. It was a battle of momentum, and a battle of pride.
How many steps had I taken like that?
Before I knew it, the Thousand Meridian Strengthening Art had passed through the fourth stage and was heading toward the final stage, the fifth.
Originally, such rapid achievement was impossible. The most difficult part of the Thousand Meridian Strengthening Art was that the minds of the casters had to align and create a single energy.
The emotion carried by the demonic energy flying toward me now was one thing: hostility.
The demonic energy that had seemed as though it would pour down endlessly gradually began to fade. Even for the Blade Ghosts, there was a limit to the internal power they could expend in pouring out demonic energy.
When the demonic energy vanished completely, I opened my eyes. The Thousand Meridian Strengthening Art had completed its final fifth stage. Thanks to that, my blood meridians had become incomparably stronger than before.
I could see the Blade Ghosts looking at me. All of them wore faces of shock and dismay. They surely had not imagined that I would endure their demonic energy to the very end.
Coming here like a pack of dogs and pouring out demonic energy without warning was a vile and despicable act, but I thought I would forgive them just for today.
I slowly moved my feet and walked toward them.
Even though hundreds had gathered, the only sound there was that of my footsteps.
A tension flowed through the place, as if the entire field would instantly become a sea of blood if someone shouted, “Kill him!” at that moment.
And the winner of this contest of spirit was me. By enduring the demonic energy that had flown at me earlier, I had already broken the Blade Ghosts’ momentum.
Beginning with the Blade Ghost at the front stepping aside to make way, the Blade Ghosts behind him also moved aside, as if pieces standing in a row were toppling one after another. I walked through the path created by the crowd.
The expressions of the Blade Ghosts varied. Some were startled, some were appalled, some admired me, and others were angry.
But no one whose eyes met mine dared to act provocatively.
I said nothing. Though I had won the battle of momentum, I knew that if I needlessly pricked their pride, the Blade Ghosts would go mad and run wild.
Like that, I quietly walked out of that place.
Around the time I took my final step, I sensed that the emotions of the Blade Ghosts had changed. They were showing respect for the fact that I had overcome their demonic energy and for the nerve with which I had walked through their midst.
Demonic martial artists are simple. When they see the weak, they trample them; when they see the strong, they worship them. Rather than calling it a cowardly trait, it would be more accurate to see it as their nature.
Only after I had completely left that place did I finally let out a sigh.
“Phew.”
Though I had not exchanged a single word with them, it felt as though I had fought a great war.
From there, I went to meet one person.
I walked across the red carpet to the empty grand preceptor’s chair.
I did not dare climb the stairs and sit in it, but I was curious what it would feel like to sit in that seat and look down upon this place.
Then a heavy voice came from behind me.
“Do you wish to sit?”
The owner of the voice was Father.
Without turning around, I answered.
“No. I do not wish to be trapped in that chair.”
“You are about to spout sophistry again.”
I smiled, turned around, and bowed respectfully to Father in greeting.
Father passed by me and walked up toward the grand preceptor’s chair.
“Come up here.”
Father called to me from beside the chair.
I slowly climbed the stairs and stood beside him.
“Sit.”
It was a moment where I could have tossed out some pointless remark, but I quietly sat down. It was a seat I had wanted to sit in at least once.
“How is it?”
I looked down at the sight visible from the grand preceptor’s chair. Centered around the red carpet, the pillars to the left and right and the evil spirits carved into the walls entered my eyes first. Though it was decorated with splendid and grand ornamentation, the view of the hall from here felt somehow desolate.
“I thought it would be incredibly exhilarating, but I feel nothing at all.”
Then Father said something unexpected.
“It was the same for me.”
I turned my head and looked up at Father. One might have expected regret from the years gone by to pass through those blunt eyes, but Father looked as unchanged as ever.
“The Blade Ghosts came swarming earlier. I do not know whether the Blood Heaven Blade Demon ordered them to do it, or whether they conspired among themselves…”
Father cut me off.
“They went on their own.”
“You knew.”
As expected, Father knew everything. I, the Eight Demon Venerables—everyone was under Father’s watch.
“They displayed blatant hostility toward me. I endured it so I would not be overwhelmed by their momentum. When I was actually enduring it, I felt nothing, but once I left that place, I trembled.”
“Were you afraid of them?”
“No. I think I was afraid not of the Blade Ghosts, but of the possibility that my judgment had been wrong. If someone had gotten excited and charged in, and a fight had broken out, I might have died there. Even if I survived, I could not become the successor after slaughtering the Blade Ghosts. That must be why I was afraid. Of the fact that another moment may come when I have to make a choice with everything at stake…”
I conveyed my honest feelings exactly as they were.
I wanted to share this feeling with someone, and that someone was not Ian, but Father. Why was that? Emotionally, Ian was closer to me.
“When I thought that, I wanted to see you, Father.”
Father spoke indifferently, as if tossing the words out.
“A demonic martial artist is not someone who looks back. He is someone who only looks forward.”
A life of not looking back and only looking forward… I knew better than anyone what kind of life that was.
‘As Father said, I will not look back. But that does not mean I will only look forward either.’
Like that, we looked for a long while at the view visible from the grand preceptor’s chair.
“The scenery from here is far too desolate. Is there any need to set up statues of evil spirits like that?”
“So that we do not forget that we are devils.”
The fact that those words felt alien to me made me wonder if I was not fated to live as a devil after all.
“How about statues of beautiful women instead? The famous Four Flowers of the Central Plains. We can set one up in each corner.”
When I glanced sideways, Father was looking down at me as if I were pathetic.
“Since I’ve started spouting nonsense, it seems it’s time for me to get up. Please sit, Father.”
I rose from the grand preceptor’s chair and slowly descended the stairs.
When I turned around at the foot of the stairs, Father was still standing beside the chair.
Meeting the gaze with which he looked down at me, I asked calmly.
“May I kill the Blood Heaven Blade Demon?”