Chapter 133: Way of Mourning Part 4

Amon was having a good time with the demon and the AI duo, while Sunwoo and Sunhwa faced off against the leader of the Geomgye.

However, even after Amon had left to confront the duo, the battle showed no signs of beginning for quite some time.

As the leader of Geomgye, he was well aware of the siblings’ swordsmanship.

Sunwoo, who had once admired him as an apprentice, also knew his sword well.

Because they understood each other too well, neither dared to make the first move.

Thus, their standoff naturally turned into a battle of nerves.

The leader spoke, attempting to persuade the Ji siblings.

“You’re in the same situation as I am, so why do you pledge loyalty to the Yi dynasty?”

To his question, Sunwoo and Sunhwa each gave a different answer.

“What are you talking about? Because of you, I almost became a lost soul in the middle of Mount Geumgang.”

“You abandoned me, and they accepted me. That’s all there is to it.”

Sunwoo’s gaze burned with anger and disappointment, while Sunhwa’s eyes gleamed with cold killing intent.

Facing their intense stares, the leader’s expression remained calm.

Their battle finally began when a wandering ghost, unaware of the tension, suddenly lunged at Sunwoo.

***

Bang—!

Sunhwa fired an exorcism round she had prepared just in case.

Thanks to her, Sunwoo avoided possession, but the leader did not miss that fleeting moment.

He swung his sword at Sunhwa’s chest, knowing she wouldn’t be able to draw her blade while shooting.

However, for someone whose main technique was battōjutsu, it wasn’t a particularly dangerous situation.

As her hand moved to her sword, the blade was already drawn, aiming straight for the leader’s throat.

Seeing her strategy—offering her chest as bait to target his neck—he smirked bitterly and stepped back.

“Where did you learn such swordsmanship? The techniques I taught you weren’t so savage.”

“I’ve been sparring often with someone who fights as if they have nothing to lose.”

At her response, the leader thought of a certain fanatical young man and let out a dry chuckle.

Indeed, the ability to recklessly throw one’s blade and attack from precarious angles was not a skill an ordinary human could wield.

“I see. Then I suppose I can’t afford to hold back either.”

The leader discarded the sword he was holding and drew a blade from his back.

As the dark blade of the tachi was unsheathed, a chillingly sinister aura filled the air.

It was a cursed sword that exuded an ominous energy, as if a single cut would cause flesh to rot away.

“That sword…”

“It is the original form of the blade you once drew by chance.”

At the mere tilt of the blade, countless wails burst forth from within.

[Free me!]

[I curse you—!]

[My blood… my body…]

Sunhwa’s face twisted in disgust at the sword.

“How many innocent people were sacrificed to create that?”

“They weren’t all that innocent. These were Joseon people who burned a six-year-old child’s mother alive, then stoned the remaining child to death—just because he was the son of a traitor. Can you really call them innocent?”

“That happened…?”

“It’s all in the past now. A hollow lament of a wraith who refused to let go and instead sought to burn the world down with the ashes of what remained.”

“I see. How unfortunate.”

Their conversation was so calm that it hardly seemed like they were enemies.

It made sense—while Sunwoo held resentment, Sunhwa harbored no particular ill will toward the leader.

Perhaps sensing the oddity of the situation, he briefly paused the battle and asked, “Your sword carries no killing intent. Why do you not view me as an enemy?”

“I already told you. I’m only stopping you because you abandoned me, while they accepted me.”

Only then did the leader realize his misconception.

“So, when you say ‘they,’ you don’t mean the Yi dynasty?”

Sunhwa remained silent, but he took it as an affirmation.

“Is this the worthy master you always spoke of?”

“Who knows? At the very least, they’ve been a decent temporary sheath for my sword.”

“Heh, I wish you were a little more expressive, like your brother.”

“Well, that’s also…”

Sunhwa trailed off as she returned her blade to its scabbard.

“Something I cut away along with my family name.”

With those words, her scabbard gleamed.

***

Clang!

The leader swiftly deflected her attack, slicing through the air with his tachi.

“Every time I see it, your technique feels almost magical.”

“That’s because it is magic.”

Once again, her scabbard shone.

A faint glow flickered beneath the hem of her robes—revealing the intricate magic engravings on her body.

‘Not that this is something I want others to see.’

For a brief moment, she let out a bitter smile.

The magic sigils that once brought prosperity to the Ji clan were the same ones that led to its downfall.

With that irony in mind, Sunhwa attacked the leader once more.

“Hm. At this rate, we won’t reach a conclusion.”

Fending off her blade from a distance, the leader pulled a dagger from his left sleeve.

He held three throwing knives between his fingers and flicked his wrist downward.

Shhk—

The blades extended like a collapsible baton.

Sunhwa immediately recognized what was coming next.

“That’s Amon’s…!”

“That friend of yours left some handy recordings behind.”

Like the other Geomgye warriors who had stormed the cathedral, the leader hurled his blade.

The daggers shot toward Sunhwa like arrows, and beyond them, he charged forward.

“Tch…!”

As expected of someone who knew her well, he had identified her battōjutsu’s weakness.

‘To strike, I must first sheath my blade.’

Because of this fundamental principle, she couldn’t block both the incoming knives and the leader’s charge.

And she knew it.

Which is why she had someone by her side to compensate for this flaw.

“You’re not going anywhere!”

Sunwoo intercepted the leader, swinging his dual hwandos.

Although hwandos lacked the reach and thickness of a katana, they had their own strengths.

By sacrificing power, they gained flexibility.

Sunwoo wielded them as a dual-blade swordsman who relied on their convenience.

And that very trait made up for his sister’s weakness.

His power was strong, but the gaps between his attacks were long.

To allow his sister to regain her stance, his swordsmanship was designed for swift strikes and quick retreats.

While Sunwoo held the leader at bay, Sunhwa deflected the incoming swords and returned her blade to its sheath.

With just a glance, Sunwoo understood that she was ready and widened the distance between himself and the leader.

Kaang!

A heavy clash echoed through the air, making the leader falter.

Seizing the opportunity, Sunwoo swung his sword several times before retreating once more.

The leader’s sword was highly defensive, preventing any effective strikes from landing, but Sunwoo wasn’t anxious.

Sunwoo trusted his sister, and Sunhwa trusted her brother.

That was why they remained calm as they pressed the leader.

***

Then, the leader began to recite a verse.

“根深石亦裂 枝長風如刃”

“??”

Sunwoo, unfamiliar with Classical Chinese, didn’t understand the words.

But Sunhwa, whose automatic translation function included ancient texts, grasped their meaning.

[Deeply rooted, even stone splits. Branches long, the wind cuts like a blade.]

Realizing the implication, she urgently shouted toward her brother.

“Sunwoo, fall back!”

But by then, he was already too close to the leader.

Sukeog.

“Huh?”

At the fluttering end of the leader’s left sleeve, a short hwandao he had never seen before gleamed.

As Sunwoo struggled to process the situation, the leader spoke bitterly.

“Did you forget that I was the one who taught you siblings how to wield a sword?”

In his right hand was a saber, in his left a hwandao.

Seeing the leader wielding blades in both hands, Sunwoo realized his mistake.

‘The leader’s sword style wasn’t defensive…’

Even when he sparred with Amon, the leader had always preferred counterattacks over initiating strikes when using the saber.

Like a pine tree facing the wind, like a rock deeply embedded in the earth.

But that didn’t mean the leader was passive.

His saber had always played the role of a shield, deflecting attacks.

It had simply been fulfilling its purpose.

And the leader’s true weapon—his primary means of attack—was the swift and unpredictable hwandao.

‘Ah…?’

Sunwoo felt a warm, damp sensation spreading across his abdomen and let out a bitter smile.

‘I realized it too late.’

Maybe he had been too excited.

As his consciousness faded, he caught a glimpse of his sister desperately parrying the leader’s blade.

***

Kaang!

Sunhwa’s strike was effortlessly blocked by the leader’s saber.

And then, his free left hand found an opening, aiming directly for her vital point.

She twisted her body just in time to narrowly evade the attack.

“Kh…!”

So this is what it felt like to face someone armed with both a sword and a shield.

A saber that could block any strike and a hwandao that would exploit the smallest opening.

The unfairness of this ruthless combination made her grit her teeth.

The leader’s voice carried a hint of melancholy as he addressed her.

“Have the stories of the Jeong family been forgotten? Do you not know that the head of your Ji family was once a disciple of our house?”

Letting both weapons hang loosely at his sides, he continued.

“There was a time when our family produced the greatest swordsmen in Joseon. Perhaps our supposed research on democracy was nothing more than a pretext to strengthen the Yi dynasty’s power.”

With a casual swing, his dark saber cleaved through a pillar beside him as if it were tofu.

“This blade is terrifyingly sharp, don’t you think?”

At some point, his right pupil had turned pitch black.

Sunhwa responded with a slightly mocking tone.

“You seem possessed. Are you alright?”

“Do not worry. I will never succumb.”

“Aren’t you relying a little too much on the demons’ power? If my friend exorcises that demon, you’ll be in trouble.”

“You misunderstand. It’s true that the demon helped change the strategy and distribute sabers to the Salju clan. But this saber—”

He lifted the blade slightly.

“—was always meant for me.”

“So you really craved power that badly?”

“To overturn a nation, a little excess is necessary.”

He raised his sword to his face.

The black energy began to corrode his right mechanical arm.

Muttering to himself, he said, “I don’t enjoy being a plaything for those beyond this world, but…”

Pajijik—

Sparks erupted from his mechanical arm.

Pung!

With a bursting sound, the metal surface cracked open, and black liquid seeped out.

Before long, the black liquid replaced his entire arm, while the shattered pieces of his mechanical limb jutted out like the spines of a hedgehog.

Sunhwa instinctively recoiled in revulsion.

“If this makes you flinch, that’s a problem.”

But it wasn’t over yet.

From his right arm, eyeballs and fanged mouths began to sprout.

“You’ve abandoned your humanity.”

The leader didn’t bother denying it.

“I never cared for the throne. I just need to destroy it. Whoever sits on it is none of my concern.”

He no longer cared about how others saw him.

Sunhwa finally pieced together the last lingering question in her mind.

“I thought the ghosts relentlessly chasing the current king were the work of demons, but it was your doing, wasn’t it?”

“…”

“Were you jealous of a child’s happiness? Because you never got to have it yourself?”

“At first, I told myself it was all in the past. But yeah… I was jealous.”

“Pathetic.”

“This whole plan started for a pathetic reason. What’s the point in pretending otherwise now?”

“It would be easier if you just got angry.”

“I already told you—on the day I cut down your family, I severed all my attachments. The same goes for me. When I cut down the filth that killed my mother, I buried my heart along with them.”

“And yet, you still get jealous.”

“Humans are inherently pathetic, contradictory liars.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

Sunhwa tightened her grip on her sword.

The leader also readjusted his grip, his grotesquely swollen right hand firmly holding his blade.

That was the end of their conversation.

Their swords clashed once more.