Chapter vv15c1

“I can’t give up.”

“If I give up here, it’s all over.”

“I’ll be betraying my own beliefs.”

“Who will believe in me if I don’t believe in myself?”

“Those who abandon themselves are abandoned by heaven.”

“Believe! Believe in me!”

“Believe in the sweat I’ve shed, the strength I’ve cultivated.”

“I can do this. I can do this. Nothing is impossible for me.”

“I’m faster than the wind. I’m faster than light.”

“My body transcends time and space, existing ‘now’ on the other side.”

“That is who I am!”

In that moment, the world began to distort.

**Three Releases, Three Captures**

Seven Releases, Seven Captures.

Zhuge Liang released Meng Huo seven times and captured him seven times.

“Aaaargh!”

The sound of another life being extinguished echoed in Il-pung’s ears. The lingering tremors of the death throes hadn’t yet faded.

He wanted to cover his ears. Even his tear-blurred vision couldn’t hide the horrific scene unfolding before him. It might be better to gouge out his eyes and tear off his eardrums.

Helpless!

Was there a more accurate word to describe the situation? How many had fallen?

Thirty? Forty? Or… fifty?

He had long since given up counting. There were too many, too often.

But he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. It was a simple matter of subtracting one from a hundred. A simple calculation, but the weight of the lives it represented was unbearable.

The luxury of fighting spirit was gone. Even hatred and anger, which had fueled his determination, were meaningless in the face of this overwhelming terror. His sword pointed at the ground, his gaze fixed on the sky.

Thud, thud!

The footsteps of the reaper, crushing fallen leaves underfoot, echoed through the forest. To Il-pung’s ears, it sounded like the souls of the fallen were screaming in agony.

The god of death approached, but he stood there, frozen, like a puppet with its strings cut. He had finally learned the futility of resistance, at the cost of ninety-nine lives.

‘Our eyes met?’

A searing pain shot through his legs, as if they had been branded with fire.

“Ugh!”

An unbearable agony, silencing his scream, suppressing his groan, spread from his knees to his limbs, to his entire body.

‘I didn’t see… I didn’t see anything…’

His body’s natural defenses failed to activate. He didn’t even register what had happened.

His body collapsed to the ground.

He lay in a pool of his own blood.

He was the last one. The final opponent. With his fall, there was no one left standing. Except for one… the architect of this hellish landscape, the silver-masked reaper.

He turned his head slowly, surveying the scene.

Dozens of bodies lay scattered across the ground, most of them mutilated beyond recognition. The stench of blood was overwhelming, the sight of spilled entrails nauseating. It was a scene of carnage, a vision of hell on earth. But his eyes, hidden behind the silver mask, betrayed no emotion. He had seen it all before, countless times. One more death meant nothing to him.

This carnage, this hellish landscape, was just another day at the office.

“Human… human… no… human…”

A man groaned, raising his head from the pile of bodies. His face was covered in blood, his hair matted with gore, but he was still alive. His legs were gone, severed below the knees. It was Il-pung.

“He… he’s… a demon…”

He reached out a trembling hand towards the reaper, the architect of this massacre, as if trying to grasp at a mirage.

“Cough!”

He coughed up a mouthful of blood. His eyes were bloodshot, the veins in his eyeballs about to burst.

“My wife… Chwi-ya…”

He noticed the amulet pouch tied to his right wrist.

It was a gift from his son, ten years ago, when he had proudly joined the sect.

“As you know, Father, our Wudang Sect’s amulets are incredibly effective. The blessings of the Supreme Lord Lao Tzu and our founder, Grandmaster Jang Sam-bong, will surely protect you.”

His son was now a renowned swordsman, but to him, he would always be his ten-year-old boy.

“Chwi-ya…”

Ten years… The amulet had saved him from countless dangers, its power undeniable. But it seemed that even amulets had an expiration date.

‘If I had known, I would have asked him to buy me a spare…’

A bitter smile touched his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks.

His right hand, outstretched in grief, trembled uncontrollably. It was covered in cuts and bruises, caked with dirt and blood.

“You… monster…”

His vision blurred, his blood loss taking its toll. The world around him swayed.

He had believed that righteousness would prevail, that his unwavering faith would protect him. He had been naive.

Power without justice is tyranny. But justice without power is meaningless.

He was too weak.

The realization was unbearable.

“I won’t… I won’t let you pass…”

The reaper, a distant mirage, a figure he could never reach, turned to look at him. The master of overwhelming power… Had their eyes met for a moment? The reaper’s hand twitched, a spark of light flashing from his fingertips.

A searing pain in his forehead, and then, darkness.

‘Chwi-ya… become the supreme swordsman…’

His last wish, a prayer whispered into the void.

His body, a mangled piece of meat, fell to the ground with a thud. Life had already left him.

The silk pouch ripped open, scattering fragments of yellow paper into the wind.

The last defender of the Iron Vault, the final line of defense at Falling Goose Peak, the invincible swordsman of the Wudang Sect, Gongson Il-pung, was dead.

* * *

“He’s coming!”

A young man, perched on a rocky outcrop overlooking the valley, murmured to himself. His voice was quiet, but resolute.

Was he a man or a woman?

His features were delicate, almost feminine, his black eyes filled with a deep melancholy, his waist slender, his arms long and slender, his fingers delicate… He was more fragile than graceful, his slender frame seemingly incapable of harming a fly. The blue sword and red saber at his waist seemed out of place. But the aura he exuded was anything but ordinary.

He wore a robe of unusual colors, a blend of crimson flames and icy blue, his hair a mystical silver-blue, like powdered jade scattered on ice.

Behind him stood another young man, his hair a mane of black, his eyes burning with the ferocity of a lion, his body radiating a restless energy.

They were a study in contrasts.

“The time has finally come!”

The lion-like young man said, his voice filled with determination and a hint of vengeance.

His gaze shifted to the slender shoulders of the young man in front of him. He looked so fragile, so breakable. But appearances were deceiving. To underestimate him would be a fatal mistake… Countless fools had paid the price for underestimating him. It had been so long since he had last counted, it was easier to count the grains of sand on a beach.

Even the nine leaders of the Nine Great Sects, combined, couldn’t defeat him. But the fools didn’t know that. And even if they did, they would refuse to believe it.

‘Those frogs in a well. They think they can cover the sky with their hands… What? They say they’re working for the future of the martial world? Their words and actions don’t match! They’re just trying to cover up their own incompetence!’

Actions spoke louder than words. But those fools were content to sit in their ivory towers, surrounded by sycophants, spouting empty platitudes about the future of the martial world.

It was their fault that the martial world was in such a state. He could say with certainty that those fools were nothing compared to the young man in front of him. They were less than worms.

“It’s frustrating!”

Rin murmured, his face etched with a bitter smile. His gaze remained fixed on the valley below.

“Frustrating? What do you mean?”

Hyuk, the lion-like young man, asked, chewing on a blade of grass.

Rin chuckled wryly.

“To see myself clearly! I wish I could exaggerate my abilities this time!”

To see oneself clearly was a painful experience. But his self-deprecating humor was anathema to Hyuk.

“Hmph, what good is escapism? Reality doesn’t change just because you delude yourself!”

His words were harsh, but true.

“Haha, you’re right. I apologize.”

Rin admitted his fault readily, but there was no hint of subservience in his tone.

Hyuk knew he didn’t mean it. But the fact that his self-deprecation was so close to the truth only fueled his anger.

“It takes courage to face yourself. Only the courageous can recognize the walls before them and overcome them.”

He knew that there were countless people in the world who were oblivious to their own limitations. He patted Rin’s shoulder reassuringly.

“The future of the martial world… It’s a heavy burden. I’m afraid I’ll get back pain, shoulder pain, and arthritis all at once!”

Hyuk nodded in agreement.

“I agree! To pass through the Three Gates of Calamity, created by the combined efforts of the righteous and demonic factions, in such a short time… He’s a monster…”

He paused, then continued,

“Damn it, I was hoping it wouldn’t be our turn… But it seems my prayers were in vain. Damn it!”

He could sense the reaper’s presence, even from hundreds of zhang away. It was a visceral sensation, a tingling in his skin.

“It’s frustrating to know your own limits, especially when you realize that you’re no match for your opponent.”

Hyuk knew it was the truth, not an insult.

“But to face that truth and fight anyway, that’s true courage! To know your place and strive to overcome it, to fight with conviction, that’s true courage! Anything else is just recklessness and arrogance.”

He had spent the past year honing his skills, determined to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past. The time had come to unveil the fruits of his labor.

“A year… It’s been a long time…”

It was a long time, or a short time, depending on your perspective. But to them, it had felt like an eternity.

A silence fell between them.

“You haven’t forgotten.”

Hyuk said, breaking the silence. Rin’s eyes flashed with a cold light.

“Of course not! How could I forget that humiliation? If I could erase that memory by gouging out my brain and rinsing it in ice water, I would do it without hesitation! If only I could erase that memory, that shame!”.

Their eyes met, two rivals, two comrades, bound by a shared past. They both remembered the humiliation, the burning shame, as vividly as if it had happened yesterday.