Return of the Sword Emperor - Chapter 21

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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 (2)

“Snap!”

Gae Hong and Gwak In Bu exchanged a glance, then bore down from left and right simultaneously.
The chilling murderous aura born from blade and mace pressed down upon the space between them.
Dok Go Jin did not yield a single step.
He twisted his torso to slip past Gae Hong’s sword, then ducked his head just before the mace fell, evading the blow entirely.
A stroke that rushed past like wind cleaved the empty air behind his back.

“Hmm.”

A muted grunt escaped from Yi Du Ryong, who had thrown his all-out strike.
Clang!
Yu Rang Cheon’s broadsword bounced away weakly from the blade Dok Go Jin swung.
It all happened in a single breath.
Dok Go Jin’s footwork, evading Hanamosal’s joint attack with ease, grew steadily more relaxed.
At some point, after perfectly grasping the principles of Hanamosal’s joint attack and the trajectory of their strikes, Dok Go Jin’s eyes flashed with brilliant light as he waited for his opening.
A fissure appeared in the joint attack that had been turning with gear-like precision.

‘Just as I thought.’

Dok Go Jin’s lips curved into a smile of triumph.
Gwak In Bu, whom he had judged to be the weakest link regardless of martial skill, had made a mistake.
Dok Go Jin did not miss that opening—he moved like lightning.
As Dok Go Jin’s blade drew near, Gwak In Bu gritted his teeth and swung his mace.
The mace, spinning ferociously as it flew, struck only empty air.
Swish!
With a soft sound, Gwak In Bu’s sleeve was shorn clean away, and the flesh of his forearm split open.
In that moment, Yu Rang Cheon rushed in to intercede.
Yi Du Ryong and Gae Hong also pressed him, cutting off Dok Go Jin’s retreat.
Attacks surging from three directions at once.
Dok Go Jin moved his blade without urgency.
It was not particularly fast.
Yet it was shatteringly sharp and precise.
Using the Ihwa Jeop Mok method, he redirected the trajectory of Yu Rang Cheon’s attack, actually blocking Yi Du Ryong’s strike in return, and slipped past Gae Hong’s assault by twisting his body.
By the time Gwak In Bu’s mace fell from above, Dok Go Jin was already gone from that place.
That was when it began.
The joint attack that Hanamosal had boasted was perfect started to crumble.
Strikes that should have been delivered with precision fell subtly out of sync, and movements meant to shield one another grew sluggish by degrees.
Each time, Dok Go Jin pressed his relentless counterattack, and wounds multiplied across Hanamosal’s bodies.

“Damn it!”
“Cursed!”

Unable to contain their frustration, curses spilled from the lips of Gae Hong and Gwak In Bu.
The flow of battle was already bending to Dok Go Jin’s will.
Gwak In Bu, unable to bear the pressure, roared and swung his mace wildly.

“No! Come back!”

Yi Du Ryong called out urgently to Gwak In Bu, who was breaking formation.
But it was too late.
Dok Go Jin had already slipped beneath the arc of the mace that Gwak In Bu was wielding.
Whoosh!
At a distance where Gwak In Bu’s scalding breath could touch him.
Dok Go Jin’s blade drove into Gwak In Bu’s ribs.

“Gack!”

A single cry of anguish burst from Gwak In Bu’s lips.
His wide eyes and twisted face conveyed the terror and agony he was experiencing.
Catching the limp nape of Gwak In Bu’s neck, he hurled him backward.
As he absorbed the attacks from Yi Du Ryong and Yu Rang Cheon—both already dead—Dok Go Jin’s blade was already turning toward Gae Hong.
Gae Hong snarled and swung his sword.
Dok Go Jin received the blow without dodging, and the moment he spun his blade, Gae Hong lost his footing and staggered.
The sword moved in a diagonal slash, sharp and compact.

“Aaagh!”

A harrowing scream, and two wrists rocketed skyward, trailing blood.
Dok Go Jin caught the falling wrists on the flat of his blade and, moving his body in a smooth rotation, swept his sword outward.
The wrists flew toward Yu Rang Cheon, who had been charging like a demon.
As Yu Rang Cheon’s blade faltered, Yi Du Ryong’s sword tore the wrists to shreds.
In that instant, Dok Go Jin, circling behind Gae Hong, cleanly severed his head.
The headless body swayed and collapsed limply, while Gae Hong’s head rolled across the ground and came to rest beneath Yu Rang Cheon’s feet.

“Aghhhhh!”

From Yu Rang Cheon’s mouth came an inhuman shriek as he stomped Gae Hong’s head into paste.

* * *

‘W-what… what on earth…?’

Deung Bi watched the battle between Hanamosal and Dok Go Jin with wide eyes, his lips trembling.
The result was utterly beyond belief.
The hope that he would soon be freed had been brutally crushed.

‘I knew he wasn’t ordinary, but I never imagined he was hiding such skill.’

Deung Bi’s gaze fixed on Dok Go Jin, who had utterly dismantled Hanamosal’s Joint Attack.

‘What kind of man is he? A recruit of the Milgeom-dan with such prowess…?’

The word ‘impossible’ rose unbidden in his mind.
The Martial Prowess Dok Go Jin had displayed was of a caliber that would make even the elders of most major sects look outclassed.
Deung Bi, reassessing Dok Go Jin’s strength, shook his head slowly.

‘No, that’s not right.’

Given the ranks of those listed in the Murim Records, the name Hanamosal was far from insignificant. And their Joint Attack had certainly been formidable.

‘If I had faced them directly…’

Even though they would have been destroyed, he could vividly picture Hanamosal’s movements as they pressed Dok Go Jin back.

‘Given time, I could have handled them. But…’

Whether he could dismantle them as swiftly as Dok Go Jin had, without suffering damage—that was an entirely different matter.

‘So he’s not on the level of some run-of-the-mill sect elder, then.’

A hollow laugh escaped him.
Deung Bi watched Yi Du Ryong and Yu Rang Cheon struggling under Dok Go Jin’s onslaught, then exhaled a long breath.
His gaze naturally turned to the battlefield where Cheonrang-dan was fighting.
Now that Hanamosal’s failure was certain, the only hope left lay with Cheonrang-dan.

* * *

Nak Wol’s form cut through the air as he descended.
Bang!
With a deafening crash that seemed to crack the earth itself, Jeok Mu Hwa and Yi Cheon Hu tumbled across the ground simultaneously.
As he watched the two men struggle to their feet, Nak Wol’s eyes flickered with the faintest hint of emotion.

“I’ll grant you this much — your persistence is admirable.”

But nothing would change.
They all knew it: Jeok Mu Hwa and Yi Cheon Hu had reached the limits of what their bodies could endure.

“Nngh—”

Each movement sent fresh waves of pain coursing through them, drawing involuntary groans from their lips.
Jeok Mu Hwa clenched his teeth and steadied his stance.
His body bore wounds grave enough that death could claim him at any moment, yet his eyes trained on Nak Wol and the hand gripping his blade remained utterly steady.

“Are you… all right?”

Yi Cheon Hu asked as he felt himself move closer to his companion’s side.

“I… I can hold on.”

Yet his face, twisted with the effort of enduring pain, spoke far more truthfully than his words. It showed exactly how close he had come to breaking.
Then, from behind them, came the sound of movement.

“I’m late…”

Woo Gon emerged, drenched in blood.

“You’re… alive.”
“Senior!”

Relief colored Jeok Mu Hwa and Yi Cheon Hu’s voices.
Woo Gon, who had come from the Left Flank Battlefield not long before to join them, had been knocked away under Nak Wol’s relentless assault.
They had not dared to hope he would survive.

“I was fortunate.”

Woo Gon spoke, glancing briefly at the wound carved into his chest.

‘If his blade had risen even one more inch…’

His body trembled at the memory of how close death had come.

“He’s coming.”

Before Yi Cheon Hu could finish his warning, Nak Wol’s attack crashed down like a tempest.
With each clash of blade against blade, sharp metallic rings and a shower of sparks engulfed the battlefield.
Even as the two men matched their efforts and resisted with desperation, Nak Wol’s onslaught only grew fiercer.
The sense of impending doom — that even a moment’s opening would be the end — tightened around their throats.
Only the throwing weapons Woo Gon hurled managed to slow Nak Wol’s movements, however slightly; without them, both men would have fallen as corpses long ago.
Whoosh!
A faint whistle of air.
Nak Wol turned his head slightly to evade the throwing weapons Woo Gon scattered, then swept his blade outward.
Woo Gon pulled the short dagger in his grasp toward his chest to block, but he could not withstand the force behind the strike—his body flew through the air, limbs flailing.
After flying back five zhang and crashing down, Woo Gon rolled across the earth for some time before finally managing to pull himself upright.

“Quite a stubborn thread of fate you have.”

Nak Wol laughed coldly, steadying his ragged breathing before surveying the surroundings with an arrogant gaze.
The three figures who had regrouped were a sight to behold.
Their breathing came in rough gasps, their clothes torn to tatters and caked with blood and dust, while wounds covering their entire bodies bled without pause.
Yet not one of them retreated.
They understood all too well: if this position fell, if they failed to pin down Nak Wol, the Central Battlefield would be lost.

* * *

“Kill him! I said kill him!”

Yu Rang Cheon forced his spilled innards back through the gaping wound in his side, cursing savagely.
Yi Du Ryong, drenched in blood from head to toe, swung his sword with every ounce of inner force and fury his body could muster.
He gave no thought to defense.
Indifferent to his own life, he channeled only the lethal resolve to strike down Dok Go Jin.
Yul Seung, who had been hiding like a mouse under the pretense of holding back the Guard Unit, now targeted Dok Go Jin’s rear.

‘Success!’

Yi Du Ryong’s body trembled at the strange sensation transmitted through his blade.
An inconceivable pleasure flooded from his head to his feet.
Something was wrong—he realized it the moment Dok Go Jin, whom he was certain he had struck, vanished like a mirage.

‘An afterimage?’

Yi Du Ryong’s face filled with disbelief.
If he had only struck an afterimage, what was that sensation in his blade?
Then he saw Yul Seung stagger with a contorted expression.

“B-big brother……”

Yul Seung clutched his chest, his face twisted in agony.
Only then did Yi Du Ryong understand—he had not struck an afterimage at all. He had cut down Yul Seung, who had been attacking the same afterimage that Dok Go Jin had left behind.

“Focus! It’s the left!”

Yu Rang Cheon’s urgent cry reached his ears.
Yi Du Ryong turned his head slowly.
But something felt wrong.
His eyes moved toward Dok Go Jin, yet his body remained motionless.
His sword hand felt nothing.

‘Why does he look at me like that?’

Yi Du Ryong felt anger rising at the sight of Yul Seung’s tearful expression as he stared at him. Whimpering at a moment like this!
He opened his mouth to shout, but no sound emerged.
Yul Seung’s trembling body began to tilt.
Everything seemed wrong, but as darkness rushed in suddenly, his thoughts could no longer follow.

“Aaaahhhhhhh!”

Yu Rang Cheon’s eyes rolled back at the sight of Yi Du Ryong’s death, and he charged forward with a bestial roar.
With each step, the organs he had barely managed to keep in place tore open, spilling further.

“Big brother!”

Yul Seung, still clutching his chest, cried out to stop Yu Rang Cheon’s charge.
This was an enemy they had all faced together and barely contained.
To face such a man in Yu Rang Cheon’s mortally wounded state was no different from suicide.
Yet nothing could halt Yu Rang Cheon, whose reason had already shattered.
Dok Go Jin, watching him with cold, piercing eyes, did not hesitate to act.
Crash! Crash! Crash!
With each successive impact, Yu Rang Cheon was flung backward like a ragdoll.
After tumbling more than a dozen paces, he crashed to the ground with brutal finality — and did not move again.

A sharp intake of breath.

Yul Seung’s body convulsed with a hiccup, his eyes wide as saucers at the sight of Yu Rang Cheon lying motionless, his gaze frozen in death.

A strangled cry.

A shriek tore from Yul Seung’s throat before he could clamp his hand over his mouth. He had felt it — the weight of Dok Go Jin’s gaze shifting toward him.
Terror flooded through him at that turn of attention.
The specter of death seized hold of every fiber of his being.
The deaths of his brothers, thoughts of vengeance — all of it evaporated from his mind. What remained was only the primal instinct to survive.
Yul Seung spun on his heel and bolted, panic overriding all else.
In that instant, a blade traced an elegant arc through the air and pierced clean through his thigh.

A strangled gasp.

Yul Seung crumpled to the ground with a cry of agony.
As he stared down at the blade lodged in his leg with hollow, despairing eyes, a voice reached him — each syllable weighted with barely contained wrath.

“You, at least, will fall by our hand.”

Among all the members of Hanamosal, Yul Seung had been the cruelest — the one who had inflicted the most savage brutality upon the Guard Unit.
Jwa Jong Je, who had been forced to watch his men suffer that horror without being able to lift a finger, now fixed him with a gaze burning with deep grudge.

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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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