-At age 5, entered the Wudang Sect.
-At age 10, talent recognized; selected as the disciple of the First Sword of Wudang.
-At age 15, manifested sword aura.
-At age 20, mastered the Taiji Wisdom Sword to the ninth level.
-At age 25, succeeded his master as the First Sword of Wudang.
-At age 30, killed the Blood-Heaven Hegemon, lord of Paegun Castle and one of the Five Great Evils Under Heaven.
-At age 40, joined the ranks of the Ten Great Masters Under Heaven and became known as the Sword Emperor.
-At age 45, repelled an invasion from the Border Wastes.
-At age 50, repelled an invasion by the Southern Barbarians.
-At age 55, repelled an invasion from the Northern Sea.
-At age 60, became the First Sword of the Orthodox Faction and received the title of Sword God.
-At age 60.5, fought the Heavenly Demon to mutual ruin in their decisive battle.
Taiji Sword God (Supreme Ultimate Sword God) Cheongun, dead at the age of 60!
***
-At age 5, S-rank mana affinity.
-At age 10, entered the Hunter Training Academy at the top of his class.
-At age 15, became the first student in the history of the Hunter Training Academy to graduate early.
-At age 20, rose rapidly through the ranks as the youngest A-rank Hunter.
-At age 30, cleared an S-rank dungeon and built a reputation as Korea's greatest Hunter.
-At age 40, became the first Korean in history to earn a place among the world's Ten Great Hunters.
-At age 45, repelled Japan's invasion.
-At age 50, repelled China's invasion.
-At age 60, repelled the United States' invasion and became known as the undisputed strongest in the world.
-At age 60.5, fought the dungeon's Demon King to mutual ruin.
The One (The-One) Jeong Yeongsan, dead at the age of 60.
***
CLANG—! CLANG—! CLANG—!
THOOM—!
Attackers surrounded the knights and soldiers. As though intent on seizing the carriage, they plunged the scene into a chaotic melee in an instant.
Slash, throw, grab, stab, swing.
The dying and the wounded became entangled. As the fighting descended into chaos, blood sprayed in every direction in a vicious battle.
Of the thirty men holding the defensive formation, ten were knights. The rest were soldiers and attendants.
A single knight would have been enough against ordinary bandits, but twenty of the attackers had learned to wield aura.
Aura cultivation methods were secret arts of noble houses that commoners could not learn, and even then, one needed the proper aptitude.
They might not have reached the level of forming an Aura Sword by projecting aura outside their bodies, but the mere fact that they had learned aura proved they were no ordinary bandit group.
As the tide of battle turned against the defenders, an enraged roar thundered across the field. It was the desperate struggle of an old lion trying to rouse their morale, knowing that retreat would mean the end.
“You bastards! You dare attack House Leonard and think you will escape unsc— Guh!”
“You talk too much.”
The enraged Radon Ternoar was wounded by the incoming slash and forced back. The strike had deviated from any conventional sword path, its trajectory vanishing for an instant.
A shadow trailed the sword's afterimage.
Variation (change) had been woven into the afterimages born of speed, transforming them into illusions.
The illusory sword was followed by footwork that had reached a considerable level of mastery.
‘…Where did bastards like these come from?!’
Radon might have been an old knight nearing retirement from active duty, but he was still a senior knight of the Dawn Knight Order, which represented House Leonard. Moreover, when it came to proficiency in aura and swordsmanship, he had long served as an instructor even to other senior knights.
Yet even to Radon's eyes, the enemy's sword strikes were anything but ordinary. A sword style blending such speed and illusion was something only a first-rate assassin should have been capable of.
“Leave the carriage and withdraw. I will spare your lives.”
“How dare you!”
The carriage held Lady Adelia, the count's daughter. For a knight to abandon his lord's direct descendant and flee was a disgrace that even death could scarcely wash away.
The moment they retreated, their honor would fall into the dirt, and even their families would surely be subjected to scorn and ridicule.
“You lowborn scum who knows nothing of honor—die!”
Fury surging through him, Radon circulated his aura explosively and thrust his sword.
Dawn Sword, Third Form: Glorious Light Pierce.
Even while swept up in rage, he produced the orthodox sword path of the Dawn Sword.
SWOOSH—!
CLANG—!
The strike was blocked, but it left destruction in its wake.
Perhaps the barrage of light manifested through aura had obscured his opponent's vision in the darkness, for the man staggered backward.
TAP—!
An opening.
He should have surged forward and continued the offensive, but Radon did not. A chilling premonition flashed through his mind, and instinct stopped him from advancing.
“Heh heh. You have sharp instincts for a decrepit old man!”
Had he rushed in to continue his attack, the blades of the men who suddenly appeared on either side would have cut him in half at the waist.
The enemies had merged with the shadows and were waiting for the moment to strike.
Haa.
At that hair-trigger moment, instinct had saved his life.
Rather than feeling relieved, Radon was filled with despair at the reality before him. The assassins were far from ordinary, and his side was outnumbered.
They had already lost three members.
At this rate, they would destroy themselves.
The enemy knew that too, which was why they did not force their way in. As long as they kept Radon pinned down, they could crush the others through sheer numerical superiority.
It was a plan to subdue them safely without taking unnecessary losses, the sort of thing hired mercenaries would do. Mercenaries, after all, valued their own lives above all else.
“Does the noble young lady of House Leonard wish for every knight and soldier to die like this? Even while they sacrifice themselves for her. Then again, she knows she will not be the one to die. She pretends to be so lofty, yet what a selfish and cruel bitch she is.”
“You cur! Hold your tongue!”
Radon swung his sword in fury, but failed to land a single blow. Even that had been a deliberate provocation meant to draw him out.
‘This bastard is no ordinary opponent!’
The man was not only provoking Radon, but the young lady inside the carriage as well. If the tenderhearted lady reacted to his words and came outside, the situation would grow even more complicated.
Please, my lady. Pretend you heard nothing.
CREAK.
As the carriage door began to open, Radon shouted urgently.
“Do not be swayed by his poisonous words. They will not spare us anyway! I understand how you feel, my lady. At a time like this, please place your trust in us!”
The carriage was sturdy. Unless someone deliberately struck it with aura, it could not be breached. If the young lady came outside in this situation, she would only fall into their trap. They were barely holding the attackers off as it was; if she emerged, there would be far too many openings to protect.
Even so.
There was no way out in sight. Radon understood the young lady's feelings, but the reality remained bleak. The enemy's encirclement was too solid for them to escape.
‘I should never have let my guard down just because we were within our own territory!’
The responsibility for this entire disaster rested with him.
Radon had to prepare himself for death. If he was going to die, he had to fall while protecting the young lady to the very end.
That was a knight's duty.
Noticing his grim resolve, the leader of the assassins grinned.
“As expected of House Leonard's old hunting dog. Your loyalty runs deep. But do you think anyone will ever know?”
“Vermin who cannot even reveal their names have no right to insult a knight!”
“Oh? You are beginning to irritate me. Now I cannot let you die cleanly. Every scar carved into the noble young lady's face will be your fault.”
He kept up the war of nerves until the very end. It was petty, but Radon could not endure it.
“Silence! And you call yourself a knight?!”
“Did I not say I was no knight?”
It was blatant mockery. He wanted Radon to lose himself to rage and charge.
‘Is this how it ends?!’
Holding out was their best option, but even that would not last much longer. Radon could feel the formation wavering and his men growing exhausted.
Radon steeled his resolve.
At this rate, they would only be worn down to death. If so, his best option was to kill the enemy before him, the one who appeared to be their leader. If he could bring this man down, they might gain at least the smallest chance.
To do that, he would have to risk his life. All he could do was pray to the gods that his men protected the carriage until then.
‘Very well. I will not let this end the way you bastards want!’
He decided to drag at least one of them into death with him. The man's words grated on him, but as long as the young lady was their objective, they would not harm her.
Just as he was about to charge recklessly forward.
Hm?
STEP—!
A knight moved ahead of him first.
‘……Ron!’
It was an unexpected person, and his courage was admirable.
However, he was disrupting the formation. Even if the outcome was already decided, he should have followed his superior's orders. But it was already too late to stop him.
“So there was one fool—!”
SHNK—!
A flash split the darkness.
Just as he had said, the leader of the assassins lost his head without ever revealing his name.
Huh?
Even as his severed head flew through the air.
Why?
That was the only question left.
The two shadows that had been waiting for an opening behind him were just as stunned. The instant their view, which had been blocked by their leader like a shield, cleared—
“…What did you… Guh!”
SHNK—!
“……This makes no….”
SHNK—!
The knight's sword spoke in place of words. He struck precisely at the openings created by their disorder. It could hardly be called supreme swordsmanship. It was merely fast and precise.
STEP, STEP—!
The knight did not stop. He followed the paths of the attackers surrounding him. Each time his sword drew a line through the darkness, an enemy somehow happened to be presenting his neck.
At the perfect place and moment.
He severed the enemy's flow and cut them down within his own.
He controlled space and people with his sword.
Every movement fell under his control and led to a futile death.
SHNK—! SHNK—!
Severed heads flew limply through the air.
And yet, he was not fast.
He merely walked forward in silence, but every attacker inevitably found himself defenseless.
……Huh?
Everyone stared in bewilderment. By the time they grasped reality—
Ten severed heads had flown through the air.
ROLLLLLL—!
They rolled across the ground.
The dead assassins' eyes were filled with confusion. It was as though they had even forgotten their own deaths.
A death that came without being perceived might leave the living with a sense of futility, but to the dead, it was a peaceful rest.
Ten of the twenty aura users were fucking dead.
“…What are you?”
SHNK—!
“Why is someone like you…!”
SHNK—!
No answer.
Ron refrained from unnecessary words. They were not exactly on terms to exchange pleasantries, and the time for conversation had already passed.
They had turned a peaceful journey into a bloodbath, and now they expected him to answer them?
It was samurai-style brazen hypocrisy: stabbing someone on the road for no reason, then acting as though there was nothing wrong with doing a little stabbing.
Ron kindly gave them his answer.
With his sword instead of words.
Their shock lasted only a moment before the assassins infused their swords with murderous intent.
PRICKLE, PRICKLE—!
Killing intent perfected through slaughter, sword intent earned through death, and malice infused into aura.
A fledgling knight with no real combat experience should have been affected.
Ron was unimpressed.
Despite his obvious annoyance, his footwork found the exact distance to advance as if measured with a ruler.
He alone seemed to live in a different world of footwork.
He strolled into the barrage of killing intent released by ten men forming a sword formation.
SWISH—!
A gap of one centimeter before his eyes meant nothing.
He slipped past the murderous blades coming from left and right, aimed at his head, waist, and legs, as smoothly as though his entire body had been coated in oil.
Even though the net of blades left no possible opening through which to escape.
SHNK—! SHNK—! SHNK—!
They were not rotten trees, yet he cut through them with a smoothness so absurd it beggared belief.
ROLLLLLL—!
Severed heads rolled across the ground.
On the faces of the seven still alive, shock and anger faded as fear slowly seeped in.
Their comrades had met such futile ends. What had killed them? They too felt as though a ghost had bewitched them.
It would have made more sense if this were a nightmare.
What in the world was that?
As though enchanted by a witch, their comrades had meekly offered up their necks.
They were men who would not hesitate to sacrifice their lives for their objective, but even veterans who had survived countless battles could not accept a death like that.
Cognitive dissonance.
Unable to see reality as it was, they twisted it into a delusion.
“……Dirty tricks!”
“……You used a magic tool!”
“……And you call yourself a knight?!”
Ron welcomed the sight of them hesitating and doing nothing but shouting.
They should have used that time to resist.
Their fundamentals were lacking.
He walked steadily into the panicked group and brought them within the trajectory of his sword.
SHNK—! SHNK—! SHNK—!
Only three lines had connected, yet streams of blood appeared, and they slid smoothly to the ground.
HURK—!
The attackers watched their comrades roll across the ground, consumed by fear as they denied reality.
“…This cannot be happening!”
“…How?!”
“…We were never told someone like you was here!”
Ron welcomed their response once again. It made things easier that they did not flee in hopes of surviving to plot another day.
‘Chasing people is a pain.’
He gave the hesitant enemies no opening. He placed a limit on the time they had left alive.
STEP, STEP—!
Even now, he did not lose his dignity as a knight.
As the saying goes, a nobleman never runs.
I'm the thirty-sixth-generation descendant of the Chungjeonggong Branch, after all.
When a world-class star came out of Dongnae, they put up banners and made an enormous fuss.
In truth, he had no need to run. The enemies were already well within the reach of his sword path.
That was more than enough.
Before a knight who had reached such a realm, a single beat did not pass as it did in the ordinary flow of time.
It was as though he were playing in another dimension.
Ron was slow, but he established his Sword Domain with certainty.
A Sword Domain was the swordsman's space created through his sword. It was a unique characteristic possessed only by those who had reached a higher realm.
SHNK—! SHNK—! SHNK—!
After cutting off three heads, he severed the right arm and leg of the last man, whose face had gone blank with shock, and subdued him.
“GRAAAH!”
The surviving man screamed.
TAP-TAP-TAP—!
Ron stopped the bleeding with Aura Hold (Acupoint Sealing).
He needed to leave one man alive and hear the circumstances. If he killed them all, someone might accuse him of destroying the evidence and form the bizarre suspicion, ‘You were in league with them too.’
‘The world doesn't run on reason.’
He knew he was not exactly reasonable himself, but what could he do? He did not consider that particularly strange. Anything could happen in life, and any sort of situation could arise.
Nor did he want to explain every little thing and make a rational judgment each time. Rational judgment was extraordinarily troublesome and took far too long.
Minor details were bothersome, so he omitted them.
After dealing with the twenty aura users, the remaining chaff posed no difficulty.
Three kills in a single line (three kills).
It was an efficient sword path that surpassed even reaping two rewards with a single strike.
ROLLLLLL—!
The number of severed heads rolling across the ground increased.
Even the aura users had failed to escape. Inferior rabble could only be slaughtered.
“Spare…!”
SHNK—!
Ron did not bicker with his enemies. They should have explained their personal circumstances in detail before the battle began.
Talking to him while he was swinging his sword was only distracting. It was an unwise choice. Even if his sword path wavered, a man destined to die would still die. It simply would not be as clean. That was the difference between having one's head cut off in a single stroke and having it sawed off.
If they wished to bring pain upon themselves, he would not stop them.
SHNK—! SLASH—!
The shortest distance.
The fewest movements.
A precise sword path.
The three elements aligned perfectly.
Dead bodies covered the ground, while only the man who had lost an arm and a leg remained, writhing as he bled.
SWISH—! CLICK—!
Ron flicked his sword clean and returned it to its sheath.
When he looked back—
Dazed.
Radon and the other knights alike stared blankly, unable to grasp reality. Their faces showed that they could not understand what had just happened.
‘Things like this happen in life.’
Was that too textbook a display of a hidden master concealing his strength?
I just wasn't showing off.