Return of the Sword Emperor - Chapter 20

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 8 Blood Battle (1)

“Khahaha! You call that swordsmanship?”

Gae Hong let out a contemptuous laugh as he batted away the guard’s blade with casual ease, then slit his opponent’s throat before the man could even register his shock.

“Vermin.”

Gae Hong kicked the corpse aside and spat out the word.

“That makes two.”
“Hahaha! Brother, at that pace, when do you think you’ll catch up to this younger brother?”

Thud!
A guard struck by Gwak Inbu’s Iron Mace went flying through the air.

“Hehehehe! Just weaklings, as I thought!”

Before Gwak Inbu could strike again, he confirmed that his opponent’s breath had already left him, and burst into wild laughter.

“Brother, how are you doing?”

Gwak Inbu approached, swinging his Iron Mace, which was slick with blood and brain matter.

“Show off all you like. How many have you killed anyway?”

Gwak Inbu spread his fingers proudly, and Gae Hong’s expression shifted to one of surprise.

“Four? Already?”

At Gae Hong’s reaction, Gwak Inbu laughed again.

“Better steel yourself. If I win as promised, you’ll lend me an entire pleasure house.”
“Don’t worry. That won’t happen.”

Gae Hong, his resolve hardened, advanced toward the trembling guards.
His eyes gleamed like a predator’s as he licked the blood from his blade, sizing up his prey.

“Ah……”

A despairing sigh escaped Jwa Jongje’s lips as he rallied his men against Hanamosal.
His entire body, stained with blood from the first collision with Hanamosal, bore witness to the slaughter.
He had barely escaped with his life thanks to his men’s sacrifice, but watching them collapse so helplessly made survival feel hollow.
Jwa Jongje clenched his lips and turned his gaze to another sector of the battlefield.
The situation was worse than anticipated, though not as utterly catastrophic as the guards’ one-sided massacre. Worst of all, the reinforcements on the right flank were struggling desperately against the Cheonrang Unit—enemies far fewer in number than themselves—and their ranks had already shrunk significantly.

“It’s over……”

Jwa Jongje, who had clung to a desperate hope that aid might still arrive, dropped his head in surrender.

“Sub, Sub-leader.”

Someone protecting Jwa Jongje called out to him.
When Jwa Jongje raised his head, still too drained to respond, a figure swept past him like the wind.

“Thank you for your hardship.”

Hearing the voice carried on that gust of wind, Jwa Jongje’s expression suddenly brightened.

* * *

‘That makes five now. Damn! If I’d gotten in on that bet, I’d be winning.’

Yul Seung swung his blade steadily, regretting that he hadn’t been included in Gae Hong and Gwak Inbu’s wager.
But the exquisite sensation transmitted through the sword was something he could never abandon.
The electric thrill when a well-honed blade parted flesh and severed bone, the sight of an opponent’s face contorted in agony—these were no different from the very sustenance of life itself.

“Please… please spare me…”

A guard who had been disarmed by Yul Seung’s attack crawled backward on the ground, begging for mercy.

“No.”

Yul Seung refused coldly, raising his blade.

“But I’ll make it a little less painful for you.”

A lie.
Of all the members of Hanamosal, Yul Seung possessed the cruelest disposition; he was infamous as a madman who never ended his victims’ lives swiftly, instead savoring the sight of them lingering in torment, clinging to their final breath as they died slowly.

“First, I’ll sever your limbs.”

Yul Seung hummed to himself as he approached the guard, when something felt wrong. He turned his head.
A man was approaching—when he’d arrived, Yul Seung couldn’t say.

“Hah-hah! Excellent! You have honor among your comrades.”

Mistaking Dokgo Jin—who had appeared to save the guards—for another member of the guard corps, Yul Seung grinned widely and flicked his blade.
Two men begging for their lives and writhing in agony would be far more enjoyable and thrilling than just one.
Yul Seung extended his blade toward Dokgo Jin with ease.
Having already claimed the lives of four guards, he knew precisely what level of skill they possessed.

‘Hmm! Still, this one seems a touch sharper than the others.’

He narrowed his eyes, noticing something oddly swift about Dokgo Jin’s movements.
But it hardly mattered.
A nimble mouse could never stand against a tiger.
Yul Seung’s lips twisted into a cruel smile as he imagined Dokgo Jin soon begging for his life.

“You fool! Get out of the way!”

Yul Seung did not respond to the thunderous cry.
He had no idea that the warning was meant for him.
It was Yi Duryong, remarkably, who reacted to that shout.
Yi Duryong had been the first to sense Dokgo Jin’s presence when he arrived on the battlefield.
A man arriving during the assault by Cheonrang-dan—his very aura was deeply unsettling.
Yi Duryong had been moving slowly, tracking Dokgo Jin’s path to prepare for any contingency.
And the moment before the collision with Yul Seung, the instant he heard Deung Bi’s warning, his body moved.
Not through conscious thought.
It was the instinctive reaction of a body that had crossed countless battlefields between life and death over long years.
But Dokgo Jin simply sidestepped the blade approaching him and aimed for Yul Seung’s throat.
His movement was smooth as flowing water yet swift as a lightning flash—Yul Seung could mount no proper defense.

“Damn!”

Yul Seung twisted his body, fighting for survival.
Dokgo Jin’s blade followed as if anticipating his evasion, shifting with his every move.
At that moment of absolute peril, just as Yul Seung’s face went deathly pale and a scream tore from his lips, Yi Duryong’s blade intercepted Dokgo Jin’s.
Clang!
A sharp metallic ring, and Dokgo Jin’s blade shifted course—missing Yul Seung’s throat and instead biting deep into his shoulder as it swept past.

“Ugh!”

Yul Seung’s face twisted in agony as he stumbled backward.
Flesh split open, severed blood vessels spilled crimson across his skin.

“Fall back. Now.”

Yi Duryong stepped in front of Yul Seung and barked the command.
He’d saved the young man’s life by a hair’s breadth, but his expression was grim.
The late intervention meant he couldn’t channel his full power into the blade.
Even so, he’d poured seventy percent of his Internal Energy through it, and the shock that traveled back through steel left his arm and shoulder aching.

‘This man is genuinely skilled.’

Yi Duryong’s expression grew grave.
His eyes narrowed as he began to gauge Dokgo Jin’s true strength.

‘Equal footing? No—more than that.’

Yi Duryong instinctively grasped that Dokgo Jin, who regarded them with such detached eyes, was stronger than himself.
Yu Rangcheon, who arrived moments later, recognized the man’s strength at once.

[Can you handle him alone?]

Yu Rangcheon sent the thought-transmission while keeping his gaze fixed on Dokgo Jin.

[It doesn’t seem possible.]
[Then we’ll use a Combined Attack.]

Yu Rangcheon decided on the spot.
Pride was irrelevant.
The Hanamosal never hesitated to combine forces against a stronger opponent.
Never overextending themselves, even when branded a Murim Public Enemy and facing countless masters—that was the secret of their survival.
At Yu Rangcheon’s signal, Gae Hong and Gwak Inbu, already intoxicated by the scent of blood they’d craved for so long, came rushing in at once.
Yi Duryong sent Yul Seung a look telling him to withdraw.
Yul Seung’s eyes showed his will to stay and fight, but Yi Duryong refused him flatly.
A sound body could synchronize with the others in a Combined Attack; a wounded one could not. Besides, if the guards behind them grew restless, it would complicate matters. Yi Duryong was keeping Yul Seung back precisely to prevent that.

“Keep the guards from advancing. You can do that?”
“Of course.”

Yul Seung answered with confidence.
The disappointment vanished from his face in an instant.
Instead, his eyes burned with the killing intent of a man about to pour his rage through the guards instead.
At Yu Rangcheon’s signal, Gae Hong and Gwak Inbu rushed in and quickly surrounded Dokgo Jin.

“Ha! What’s this? Leader, we’re summoning all of us just for this one punk?”

Gae Hong shook his head with a dry chuckle.

“You could’ve called us a bit later. Third Brother’s wager was just reaching its peak.”

Gwak Inbu grumbled as he hoisted the Iron Mace onto his shoulder.
But both their eyes were already sweeping across Dokgo Jin’s vital points.

“Who are you?”

Dokgo Jin asked.

“Hanamosal.”

At Yu Rangcheon’s answer, Dokgo Jin’s brow twitched.

“Hanamosal?”
“Tsk, tsk. Young pups never cease to amaze. Not even our names have reached your ears.”

Hanamosal’s expression darkened, taking Dokgo Jin’s ignorance as proof that he’d never heard of them.

‘Hanamosal…’

Dokgo Jin’s mind raced, combing through his memory for something half-familiar about the name.

‘Ah, that’s right. Those bastards.’

He’d never faced them directly, but he’d heard the name before.
Trash branded as Murim Public Enemies.
Killers who’d knocked on the doors of Madolyeon only to be turned away, then threw in their lot with brigands.

‘And as I recall, they were destroyed pathetically while trying to carve out their own faction.’

Dokgo Jin studied Hanamosal with fresh eyes.
Despite their vicious and cruel nature, their martial prowess was genuine.
Especially Yi Duryong, who’d parried his blade, and the one who appeared to be their leader—both seemed to surpass even Jongak in skill.
Even with the Internal Elixir Field and the Jeok Un Gu Yeop Cho from the Golden Crown Ink Master circulating through him, the coming fight would not be easy.

‘Still, there’s fortune in it. Had it not been for my chance encounter in Sarim, this wouldn’t even qualify as a fight.’

As Dokgo Jin’s recollections stirred, the members of Hanamosal who’d been exchanging glances moved as one.
From front, back, left, and right, a suffocating killing intent crashed down upon him.
It was Gwak Inbu’s Iron Mace that struck at Dokgo Jin first.
Though Yul Seung was the cruelest by temperament, after Hanamosal swore their oath of brotherhood, Gwak Inbu had committed the most murders.
With power ranking third after Yi Duryong and Yu Rangcheon, Gwak Inbu’s Iron Mace contained the weight of ten thousand jun.
Dokgo Jin moved his blade smoothly, twisting the trajectory of the mace.
Though he merely redirected it, tremendous force still transferred through.
Behind him, a sword flashed forward, while from the left a dark Large Saber descended toward his crown.
Dokgo Jin’s foot pressed hard against the earth.
The ground cratered beneath him, dust billowing.
Yi Duryong’s sword and Yu Rangcheon’s saber shredded through Dokgo Jin’s form, but it was only an afterimage.
Dokgo Jin had already plunged into Gae Hong’s blind spot.
Gae Hong, startled, reversed his grip and thrust his blade at Dokgo Jin’s face.
By subtly shifting his footing, Dokgo Jin evaded the attack, and just as he drove his blade toward Gae Hong’s Dantian, Gwak Inbu’s Iron Mace cut across his path.
Yi Duryong and Yu Rangcheon followed swiftly, their assault chillingly precise.
Hanamosal’s Combined Attack was formidable.
Even with Yul Seung sidelined by injury, their long years of coordination left no gap in their movements.

‘Impressive.’

Dokgo Jin let out a genuine admiration.
Though he’d faced countless Combined Attacks, few possessed this level of refinement.

‘But not unbreakable.’

Dokgo Jin’s lips curved upward slightly.
He’d weathered Combined Attacks in his battle with Madolyeon—weathered them so often the experience had been seared into his bones.
The Combined Attack of the Bi Yeong Dae, who guarded the Master of Madolyeon himself, was nothing compared to what Hanamosal had just shown him.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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