“Is that him? Is that Langya?”
“He looks just like a killer, doesn’t he?”
“Goodness! You can tell he’s a swordsman just by looking at him. He’s practically screaming it. Does he really have to walk around like that?”
The gazes fixed on Langya were not kind.
Langya wore clothes that were little more than rags. His hair was a shaggy, unkempt mess, and streaks of grime ran down his face, which hadn’t been washed in days. But the killing intent that poured from his eyes was as sharp as a blade.
No matter how you looked at him, he was not a pleasant sight.
“Do you know why that bastard never dies and wins every time?”
“Because his blade is vicious.”
“That’s not it. Look at his face. He looks like he could devour ghosts. The grim reapers come to collect him, get scared, and run away. That’s why he can’t die and has no choice but to win.”
“Get out of here, you. Heh heh!”
The people watching the Blood Dance Stage murmured amongst themselves.
But when the main gate of the Sacred Sword Sect opened and a figure appeared, all noise vanished.
Silence fell.
Tense gazes watched the Sacred Sword Sect warrior and Langya.
Langya spoke.
“Heh heh! I didn’t realize my standing was this low. I thought a name like mine would let me face your sect master directly.”
“If you defeat me, my father will come out,” the young man dressed in the uniform of the Sacred Sword Sect said politely.
In truth, the young man did not need to be so polite. No one would have said a word if he had spoken with a bit of arrogance.
He was the eldest son of the Sacred Sword Sect’s master, Heo Munseung.
The next in line to lead the sect, he had mastered sixty percent of the Illuminating Thousand Swords technique that had made the Sacred Sword Sect what it was today.
Thirty four battles, thirty four victories. The protagonist of a legend.
If he couldn’t be arrogant, who could? No one would have complained if he were a little haughty or even rude.
But Heo Munseung was so polite it could be considered excessive.
That was the way of the Sacred Sword Sect. They were raised to engrave in their very bones the principle that the ripest rice bends the lowest.
Langya glared at Heo Munseung and said, “Heh heh, heh heh heh! Of course he’ll come out. I’m not worried about that. What parent wouldn’t show up after their child dies? You’ve heard the rumors about my blade, haven’t you?”
“I have. One Strike Kill. Murder Blade. Blood Demon Blade. It seems there are many names for your blade, Sir Langya. You are welcome to display any of them as you wish.”
“Hahaha! Hahaha!”
Langya laughed so loudly it seemed to shake the world.
“Hahaha! Hahahahaha! Haha!”
When Langya laughed, many people in the crowd laughed with him.
Langya had followers.
He was an idol to young swordsmen. How could he not be, a hero who had made his name with a single blade?
Just as Heo Munseung had said, there were dozens of titles for Langya.
That was how many people had died.
Langya’s blade held no mercy. When a fight began, a corpse was sure to follow. Blood splattered, flesh was torn away, and life was extinguished. This was Langya’s blade.
Challenge me, anyone. Challenge me anytime, anywhere. You can ambush me when I’m drunk. Attack me however you wish. But I too will show no mercy. Those who wish to kill me must also risk their own lives.
Just as he had publicly declared, many had challenged him, and many had died.
Typically, committing such a degree of slaughter would get one branded as a murderous fiend, a demon, in the martial world.
One would be reduced to a killer who could not exist in the world of the righteous path.
The same happened to Langya. Those who called themselves righteous warriors aimed their weapons at him in the name of justice. It was not a fair one on one duel, but an attempt to exterminate and eliminate a murderer.
Langya had endured many attacks.
Under the pretext of eliminating a killer, all sorts of dirty tricks were used against him.
Langya had endured those years of suffering. With a single blade, he had repelled every challenge and stood proudly in the martial world.
Challenge me, anyone. I will accept it anytime, anywhere. Anyone who can break my blade, anyone who can take my life, come at any time. But, it goes without saying, those who try to take my life must also be prepared to give up their own. At the very least, write a will before you come.
Langya’s roar stirred the blood of the passionate youth.
Young people flocked to Langya. They watched his actions, listened to his words, and followed his every move.
If Langya got meat stuck in his teeth while eating ribs and grimaced, they would even imitate that.
Many people respected Langya. And they feared him.
And now, that same Langya stood before the Sacred Sword Sect.
In truth, this was bound to happen someday.
One didn’t have to be a martial artist to predict that Langya, who had risen to the status of a great demon relying on a single blade, would one day clash with the Sacred Sword Sect, the supreme sect that led the martial world.
It was an inevitable fight, destined to happen.
Langya spoke.
“No need for long words, right? Shall we begin?”
“Before you draw your blade, I will ask one more time. Ah! This is a formality of our Sacred Sword Sect, so please do not be offended.”
“Heh heh!”
Langya chuckled.
Langya fought anywhere, without regard for the place.
Whether in a field, a rice paddy, the mountains, by a river, or on sandy ground… he never hesitated to draw his blade in any location.
The Sacred Sword Sect, however, was quite particular about many things.
Take the fighting location, for instance. They would only draw their swords on a stage designated as the Blood Dance Stage. They always fought in front of a large crowd. And they would mumble a bunch of useless words while doing so.
The Blood Dance Stage, the Sacred Sword Sect’s dueling ground.
The name made it sound as if it would be overflowing with blood, but in truth, blood had never once stained the Blood Dance Stage.
The Sacred Sword Sect did not use killing techniques.
They did not kill, they did not injure; they made their opponents withdraw on their own.
This meant that the Sacred Sword Sect’s Illuminating Thousand Swords was overwhelmingly superior to the martial arts of their challengers.
Heo Munseung spoke.
“This is the Blood Dance Stage, a place where it is acceptable to shed blood. Is it alright if you lose your life during this duel?”
“It is.”
“If you lose your life during the duel, where should we send your body?”
“Burn it and scatter the ashes to the wind.”
As the two conversed, a scribe from the Sacred Sword Sect below the stage recorded their conversation.
“Are there any last words you wish to leave for the world…”
“Let me ask you. Are you prepared to die here?”
Langya cut Heo Munseung off mid sentence.
Heo Munseung smiled faintly and said, “I am.”
“If you die, what should be done with your body?”
“There is a family shrine on the back mountain of the Sacred Sword Sect. The sect will handle the funeral, so do not worry.”
“Do you have any last words for the world?”
“I have already written a will. You need not worry about that either.”
“Good. I’ll let that stand for my last words as well. Is there anything else you need to say?”
“There are more formalities to confirm, but you seem to be in a hurry. Shall we begin our contest of skills?”
Shing!
Heo Munseung drew his sword.
“Hmph!”
Langya snorted with a smirk.
Langya’s Wolf Blade had no scabbard. It was just a blade he carried slung over his shoulder. With no scabbard, there was no need to draw it. He just had to use it, anytime, anywhere.
If you couldn’t even handle a single blade properly and had to be careful with it, you were better off just throwing it away.
Heo Munseung held his sword at a middle guard.
The tip of the sword aimed at Langya’s chest.
No killing intent could be felt. Usually, when someone pointed a blade at you, you would feel a bone chilling cold, but from Heo Munseung, not even that sharp energy could be sensed.
It was a very comfortable sword.
The sword was well forged and incredibly sharp, yet to the person facing it, it felt as if they were facing a wooden stick or an unsharpened wooden sword.
Langya, on the other hand, was as taut as a bowstring about to snap.
Though the blade rested on his shoulder, it wouldn’t seem strange at all if it burst forth with explosive power at any moment.
This difference became more pronounced as time passed.
Langya grew stronger, while Heo Munseung remained very calm. No, he was growing weaker.
When the blade moved, the sword would break.
Heo Munseung would try to block the blade by executing a form, but how could a single sheet of paper stop a raging torrent? The moment the blade and sword clashed, the sword would be instantly split in two.
Heo Munseung was overwhelmed in terms of presence.
Even at a glance, the difference in internal energy between Heo Munseung and Langya was immense. If Langya possessed the power of a thousand men, Heo Munseung had barely enough strength to wring a chicken’s neck.
“Huhuhuhu!”
Langya bared his white teeth and gripped his blade tightly.
* * *
From the watchtower of the Sacred Sword Sect, one had a clear view of the Blood Dance Stage. It was the best place to watch the fight.
Three people were there.
One person was seated in a chair, and two people stood in attendance.
“It’s over.”
A tall, middle aged martial artist with a body as solid as a rock muttered with a smile.
His features were large and refreshing.
When he smiled, wrinkles formed around his eyes, and dimples, uncharacteristic for a middle aged man, appeared on his cheeks.
Heo Dogi!
The younger brother of the Sacred Sword Sect Master, Heo Dogang.
To Heo Munseung, who was fighting Langya, he was his uncle.
In the Sacred Sword Sect, there were two Sword Gods who had mastered the Illuminating Thousand Swords to its tenth level: the brothers Heo Dogang and Heo Dogi.
However, the martial world only remembered Heo Dogang. The number of people who knew of Heo Dogi could be counted on one hand. When Heo Dogang became the sect master, Heo Dogi voluntarily went into seclusion.
He lived in a small house attached to the back mountain and cut off all ties with the martial world.
“Is it over?”
Of the two martial artists standing behind Heo Dogi, the one on the right asked.
He wore a black patch over his left eye. A deep sword scar ran from his forehead, across his left eye, and down to his lip, suggesting he had lost the eye.
“Huhuhu, can’t you even see whether it’s over or not?”
“My apologies.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for. How many people can recognize the Dragon Sword of the Dragon Bone… Still, you must strive harder. The only thing a martial artist can trust is the sword at his waist.”
“I understand. I will strive harder.”
The one eyed martial artist bowed his head.
Although Heo Dogi had retired from the martial world, he had not given up his martial arts. He continued to polish his swordsmanship and even took on disciples known only to the people of the Sacred Sword Sect.
Ten disciples, the Ten Lesser Swords.
The two men standing behind Heo Dogi were two of the Ten Lesser Swords.
“What Munseung is performing is called Hidden Kill in the Stream. It’s a killing technique hidden in shallow water, like a stream, where no one would be on guard. Seeing that Langya couldn’t detect it, he must be nothing more than a violent brute. Let’s go.”
Heo Dogi stood up as if there was nothing more to see.
* * *
Kakakakak!
The blade moved. It raged like a storm. A powerful lightning bolt struck down towards Heo Munseung, who stood there as powerlessly as a scarecrow.
Swish!
Heo Munseung moved precariously.
Langya was fast and strong. Heo Munseung was weak and slow.
“Ah…!”
“Danger!”
Gasps of horror erupted from those in the crowd who did not wish to see Heo Munseung get hurt. But then,
Swish!
The blade that had raged like a storm struck the Blood Dance Stage. The blade’s edge cut nothing. The scarecrow that seemed about to be cut down in an instant had vanished without a trace. And in the next moment, Heo Munseung’s sword was at Langya’s neck.
“So… sorcery!”
Langya said, as if he couldn’t believe it.
“The Phantom Step, one of the twelve movement techniques of the Sacred Sword Sect, and the Direct Light Stream from the Illuminating Thousand Swords. The duel is over. You are free to think of it as sorcery, but the sword at your neck is a real sword. What will you do? Will you continue, or will you withdraw?”
“Ugh…!”
Langya groaned.
Langya did not want this kind of defeat. A fight that only compared martial skills according to the rules of the Sacred Sword Sect… He believed that a fight only ended when one person was dead.
Langya grabbed the sword at his neck with both hands. And without a hint of hesitation, he thrust his neck forward.
Puk!
Blood gushed from Langya’s neck.
It was a deep wound, cutting a third of the way through his neck.
“Kaaargh!”
Thud.
Langya collapsed. The blood he spilled stained the Blood Dance Stage red.
(End of Chapter)