Admiration swelled to fill both of Ian's eyes as he gazed upon the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign.
Yes, that was exactly the future he wished for himself.
He wanted to live without watching anyone's mood, without a single restraint. That was what it meant to roam the Central Plains with but a single sword. A life where you went if you wished to go, and came if you wished to come.
Freedom was but an illusion for the weak; only the truly strong could possess it.
It was the same for Yeon Baek-in, the Hall Master of the Yellow Dragon Martial Hall, who watched from the side. If one were to reduce the words "don't ramble on" to a single sentence, it would be this. If it were him, this was how he would have said it.
"Shut up!"
That desire—to utter that single line—dominated him. That desire was what made him send everyone out of the martial hall and stand alone in this sea of blood.
Then, his chest suddenly felt suffocated at the sight spread throughout the hall.
The corpses strewn everywhere.
Even those considered experts had died in a single move.
And there he was, stuck to this side, acting arrogant without even knowing his opponent was a Demon.
Yeon Baek-in's gaze turned toward Gang Hu, the Fist King.
Sitting in the spectator seats, he was truly behaving like a mere onlooker.
"Even as everyone is dying, are you just going to sit there?"
Because he did not know how profound his skill was or what kind of person he was, Yeon Baek-in naturally thought of one person.
"What are you doing down there?"
He desperately wished that the man underground would come up here.
How wonderful would it be if that chair slid down and returned with that man seated upon it? Because he believed that man could kill every last one of those terrifying Demons.
A faintly displeased expression flashed across Gwido's face before vanishing. Despite being thoroughly ignored by the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign, he was not angry.
"That would be difficult."
He leisurely smoothed his clothes with a hand.
"I am someone who wishes to make my name known far and wide. Can you not tell by looking at my clothes?"
The ghostly figure drawn in white upon red martial robes—the very symbol of Gwido.
"Especially since there are so many these days who fail to recognize me."
He had coincidentally consumed a spiritual herb. Ah, no—it was no coincidence. It was a treasure that the person closest to him had kept for a long time, which he had killed and plundered.
The Evil Spirit Deathless Grass.
Thanks to that spiritual herb, he had gained immense internal energy, and ever since, his skin had grown taut and his black hair had begun to regrow.
The reason his close friend had not consumed so precious a thing was because of its side effects. There was a side effect whereby evil energy gradually burrowed into the mind and eventually drove one mad.
No one knew when that side effect would manifest. It could appear the very next day, or ten years later.
Gwido had boldly consumed it. The reason was simple.
"I'm an evil, crazy bastard anyway."
Even in his old age, Gwido had been a renowned expert of the Demonic Path, and with youth and internal energy now added, he had truly become strong. He was confident he could defeat anyone.
This was why he overflowed with composure even after witnessing the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign's formidable display moments ago.
"Ilhwa Sword Sovereign, you shall become the proudest name among those I have killed."
The Ilhwa Sword Sovereign responded as coldly as ever.
"Not interested."
However, there was one thing she was curious about.
"What I wish to know is what is happening down below."
Gwonma was not one to ask such questions, so if there was something worth finding out, she had to discover it herself. It was a matter of the Young Cult Leader's life and death, after all.
The enemies knew what was happening underground, but her side did not. If it had been anyone other than the Young Cult Leader, she would have descended to check long ago.
Gwido could not answer her question. Having realized that he did not know the situation below either, the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign dismissed him once more.
"You talk a great deal, but you do not know what you actually should."
She did not acknowledge her opponent. It was an enemy she had to kill in any case, and Gwido was no martial artist worthy of respect.
Gwido's expression hardened at her mockery.
At least on this point, he was inwardly furious. Gang Hu had absolutely refused to tell him anything about it. As if he would not deign to speak of it to a mere underling like him.
Truly, Gwido had met all manner of villains, but he had never met anyone so disagreeable and unpleasant as that man.
Then, Gang Hu opened his mouth.
"Do you know? You have come to a place where you should not be."
He was certain of Geom Mugung's death.
"The place where you must bear responsibility for the Young Cult Leader's death. Even if not by our hands, you will die by your Cult Leader."
The Ilhwa Sword Sovereign smiled faintly.
"You know nothing either."
Of the Young Cult Leader, and of the Cult Leader.
She held a firm belief that the Young Cult Leader would not die, and even if so, the Cult Leader would not place the blame upon them. Rather, that would make it even more torturous.
The Ilhwa Sword Sovereign's gaze turned back to Gwido.
"Then I have nothing more to say to you."
Cold contempt laced her every word, so Gwido also ceased speaking and quietly drew his blade.
His unique blade technique was the Black Shadow Ghost Hand Blade Technique.
A blade technique consisting of seven tyrannical moves, countless people had lost their lives to it. Now, this powerful martial art had been given wings.
Ssshhhaaaaa.
A powerful aura burst forth from Gwido's body. He already possessed an evil disposition, and combined with the evil energy of the Evil Spirit Deathless Grass, his aura contained a truly vicious malice.
Huaaaaaah.
The surging evil energy made the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign's pristine white robes flutter.
Even within that vicious energy, she gazed at Gwido with haughty eyes. She was no longer at the level she had been upon exchanging moves with Geom Mugung in the past.
She had stepped into a new realm beyond Grand Achievement. Her swordsmanship was advancing beyond the Eleventh Star toward the Grand Achievement of the Twelfth Star.
Her unique martial art was the Ilhwa Sword Technique.
Both her title and her sword had been named after her unique sword technique. She had once possessed such fierce pride in her unique martial art, but now she had changed.
She was pioneering her own realm without being bound by forms. The eight moves of the Ilhwa Sword Technique were gradually decreasing.
When two moves became one, and even that one move disappeared, only then would she reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
She had realized that only when the sword attained freedom could one reach perfect Martial Intent.
Amidst taut tension, it was Gwido who launched the first attack.
Swaaaeeng!
Powerful blade energy flew toward her.
As the Ilhwa Sword was drawn, it split the air.
Shwaaaaaak!
Like silk being torn, the swirling blade energy was split into two sides.
Kwaaang! Kwaaang!
The divided blade energy flew backward, smashing and collapsing the walls.
Gwido's expression hardened. He had known she would block it, but he had not thought she would do so with such ease.
"As expected! A Demon is a Demon, after all!"
In a flash, the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign was already cutting at him.
Shhk!
A short, sharp whistling of wind.
Kaaang!
Blade and sword clashed. An instant's delay would have meant his head flying off his shoulders.
Seeing the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign who had withdrawn before he knew it, Gwido's eyes blazed in an instant.
"Sword Sovereign! Today you die by my hand—"
Chaeng!
Sparks flew again, faster than before.
Just as he thought she was retreating once more after sending her sword at his neck, with a hwuk! of wind she was already swinging at him from before his eyes.
Kaaang!
Gwido blocked the move, but his wrist ached as if it would snap. He could feel it. Had he been his former self, he would have already been gravely wounded.
"She's strong!"
From the start, he was being pushed back in both speed and momentum. Never in his dreams had he imagined that he, who had grown incomparably stronger than before, would be pushed back like this. He had not underestimated the Demon, yet he had never considered that she might be stronger than his rejuvenated self.
Of course, he was not taking the beating lying down either.
Emitting even stronger evil energy, Gwido's blade continuously tore through the air.
Papapapapak!
The Ilhwa Sword Sovereign blocked five consecutive attacks with two sword strikes, and evaded the remaining three with her footwork.
Her movements were concise yet elegant. Elegance would normally suggest broad, slow motions, yet she demonstrated how fast and concise movements could possess grace.
Just when it seemed she was moving slowly, a gust of wind accompanied her form already cutting at Gwido.
Light in movement, yet absolutely not light in blade; unhurried in stance even amid urgency—every one of her strikes felt not merely elegant, but noble.
Pauht!
Blood spurted from Gwido's shoulder.
He immediately launched a counterattack, but the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign had already withdrawn beyond the reach of his blade.
Freed from the shackles of forms, her movements were like the wind. Blowing lightly, then strongly; soft as a spring breeze, yet fierce as a tempest.
Ian, watching from the side, did not miss a single motion. The Ilhwa Sword Sovereign was showing him.
How one who held a sword ought to move.
Knowing that the longer this fight dragged on, the more disadvantaged he would become, Gwido unleashed his ultimate move without reservation.
Dozens of strands of blade energy poured down like rain—Ghost Rain.
The blade energy poured down upon the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign like rain. Could a human truly avoid rain?
Papapapapapapapapak!
The Ilhwa Sword Sovereign ran through the rain. Running through rain ought to mean getting wet, but she was beyond common sense.
Avoiding where it fell first, slipping between strands of blade energy, parrying with her sword to evade. Truly, the instant one perceived her, she was already elsewhere.
And Gwido saw. Even amidst it all, she was gazing at him beyond the pouring rain.
The moment he saw those calm eyes, Gwido poured all his internal energy into his next move.
Huaaaaaang!
A demonic wind that blew everything away—his final move, Ghost Wind.
A massive blade storm rushed at her. The ground overturned under the blade storm laden with immense internal energy, and rocks and wooden walls were all swept away.
Gwonma turned and embraced Ian, who possessed no internal energy, raising his protective astral energy to its limit.
Hweeeeeeee.
Ian felt as though he were watching a typhoon sweep past his window from inside an indestructible building.
She worried for the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign.
With the surroundings in such a state, she had been caught in the very center of the blade storm.
Hweeeeee.
Eventually, the wind that had raged like a luminous ghost ceased.
A smile formed on Gwido's face.
This move had struck true. The arrogant Ilhwa Sword Sovereign had faced his Ghost Wind head-on without dodging.
"Arrogance is always the problem."
As the dust settled and the scene within was revealed, the smile vanished from Gwido's lips.
He widened his eyes, brimming with disbelief.
The Ilhwa Sword Sovereign stood in that same spot, having not moved a single step. Not a hem was torn; not even a strand of hair was disheveled.
She asked calmly.
"Is there more you wish to show?"
There should have been. Yet all that remained for him was disbelief and terror.
He had never thought he would utter such words to his opponent. They were the very clichés that dying enemies had always spoken to him.
"How on earth?"
The hwuk of wind heard this time was different from before.
It was the clearest, most refreshing wind he had heard yet.
Gwido stood blankly before her, and then...
Sssssshk.
Blood lines were drawn diagonally across his face and body.
"My life was only just beginning again..."
He collapsed, cleaved in two. The flowing blood quickly soaked Gwido's clothes. The ghost drawn in white was dyed red.
No matter how much younger he had grown, no matter how much his evil energy had strengthened and his internal energy had increased, he could not match the Ilhwa Sword Sovereign.
For she was silently walking toward the pinnacle of swordsmanship these days—no, sprinting at full speed.
It was at that very moment.
Jjeo-eong.
From the main building far behind Gwido's corpse, a sound was heard, and then...
A diagonal line began to form upon the building.
Urrrrr! Kwang kwang!
The main building that had housed Yeon Baek-in's office collapsed diagonally.
It was a moment that revealed just how profound the essence of the sword contained in the final move she had unleashed at Ghost Blade truly was.
The Ilhwa Sword Venerable turned toward the Fist Demon and Ian.
As the Ilhwa Sword Venerable turned and came back, the Fist Demon bowed his head lightly. It was courtesy toward swordsmanship, and courtesy toward her.
The Ilhwa Sword Venerable likewise bowed her head lightly to him and accepted the greeting.
Ian’s face was filled with astonishment and emotion.
What had truly moved her was not that Ghost Blade had been killed, nor that the building had come crashing down.
It was the Ilhwa Sword Venerable’s clothes.
She had returned after finishing this battle in the midst of a sea of blood strewn with corpses, yet not a single drop of blood had splashed onto her white robes. She had traversed that downpour of saber qi, yet not even a drop of blood from the ground had stained her.
Ian bowed her head respectfully and said,
“Sword Venerable, you have just shown me the future I must advance toward.”
The Ilhwa Sword Venerable gave Ian a radiant smile.
In the meantime, the Fist Demon stepped forward.
Now, the only people left alive there were Ganghu, the young man with the red bandages, and Yeon Baegin.
Yeon Baegin, who had desperately fled beyond the saber wind and barely saved his life, stared at the collapsed building in utter despair. He felt an ominous sensation, as though he were looking at his own future.
All his subordinates were dead, and even the two experts he had brought with him had died, but even in such a situation, Ganghu remained calm.
“I’ve wanted to fight you someday.”
Ganghu slowly walked forward. The young man with the red bandages walked forward with him.
The two of them unwrapped their bandages at the same time.
Beneath them, their fists were densely engraved with tiny characters that could not be deciphered. The characters carved into the two men differed in color and content, and a bizarre energy was flowing from their fists.
Unlike the Ilhwa Sword Venerable, who watched the situation in silence, Ian’s expression hardened.
Even when they had not removed the bandages, their aura had been far from ordinary, and now some bizarre sorcery had been added to their fists. That aura of death flowing from their fists was no ordinary evil.
And there was not just one enemy. There was also that man with the red bandages, who appeared to be his disciple. He must have stepped forward with him because he had some role to play.
If only she had any internal energy left, she would have wanted to step out with him. She wanted to take on that younger one herself.
But unlike her complicated feelings, her father’s back, as imposing as Mount Tai, did not waver in the slightest.
Just like that back she had watched every night as he practiced fist arts beneath the cliff.
“What did you do to your fists?”
The Fist Demon clenched his massive fist with force and walked forward.
“If you have no confidence in your fists, you’d be better off picking up a weapon.”