Return of the Sword Emperor - Chapter 67

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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 24: Omens of Ruin (2)

“You’re the one who brought down the elders and masters at Chamhoeyok?”

Dokgo Jin gave a light nod at Yu Baek’s question.
The gesture might have seemed disrespectful, and it could have provoked displeasure, but no such emotion crossed Yu Baek’s face.
Instead, a smile appeared—one that suggested approval.
To him, arrogance was a privilege that only the strong could claim, and his heart quickened at the thought that he had finally met a worthy opponent.
Yu Baek took a step forward.
It was a simple movement, yet the air between them suddenly froze.
Yu Baek was a master of the Quick Blade, renowned throughout the Martial World.
People spoke of his sword with reverence.
“The blade cannot be seen,” they said. “Only after your opponent falls does the sword light follow.”
Yu Baek’s eyes, fixed on Dokgo Jin, narrowed slightly.
In that instant, the sword vanished.
Or rather, it appeared to vanish.
A lightning-swift strike shot toward Dokgo Jin’s neck.
Yu Baek did not bother with the hollow courtesies that elders customarily offered about yielding the first strike.
His opponent was already an expert equal to himself—or perhaps even greater.
Pure instinct had driven his hand: without the first strike, he might well fall.
Clang!
Feeling his own blade driven back by the crisp ring of metal, Yu Baek spun his body urgently to the side.
A chilling Air-Splitting Sound whistled past as his robe fluttered in the void.

“As expected.”

Yu Baek smirked and drew his sword again.
The successive flurries of strikes came so fast that the eye could not follow them.
Wherever Yu Baek’s gaze settled, his blade was already there.
It was an attack like sewing needles, a Quick Blade that deserved the name Lightning Flash.
With each successive strike, the sword’s speed only increased.
Dokgo Jin was being driven back inch by inch under Yu Baek’s onslaught.
Except for his response to that first attack, he had not managed a proper counterattack.
In the interim, his shoulder was slashed and his arm torn.
Blood sprayed in all directions, though the wounds were not critical.
Even amid such blinding, ferocious assault, Dokgo Jin had not once permitted a deep wound.
Time passed, and just as Dokgo Jin was finishing his adaptation to Yu Baek’s speed—
Yu Baek’s energy subtly shifted, and the blade that Dokgo Jin believed he had safely blocked suddenly changed course.
The sword tip folded through the air like paper and drove into his flank.
Thud.
Dokgo Jin’s face hardened for the first time.

‘So that was it—the hidden blade.’

At last he had glimpsed the weapon Yu Baek had concealed.
Yu Baek’s renown throughout the world was not due to speed alone.
So blinding and cunning was his art that no one had ever perceived the Hidden Variation woven within—a change that existed beneath the surface.

‘The Martial World fell to Yu Baek’s Quick Blade not because of its speed, but because they never saw the transformation hidden within.’

Blood trickled from his flank.
It was a deep wound, yet Dokgo Jin gave it no notice.
At Dokgo Jin’s untroubled composure, Yu Baek’s pupils contracted sharply.
In that decisive moment, when Yu Baek had been certain his killing stroke would end the match—
Dokgo Jin had blocked it. The attack had appeared to succeed, but had it truly landed, the blade would have pierced the heart, not the flank.

“You… noticed?”
“To some degree.”

Dokgo Jin nodded slowly.
If he had wanted to counterattack during those moments when he allowed one-sided assault, it would have been entirely possible. But each time he tried to mount a response, a strange dissonance crept through his entire body, paralyzing his movements.

“So you didn’t fail to counterattack—you chose not to.”

Yu Baek’s lips twisted into a bitter smile.
Now he understood.
All this time, he hadn’t been the one pressing forward—he’d been the one dissected, laid bare before his enemy.
Dokgo Jin resumed his stance without answering.
It was no different from before, and yet Yu Baek felt an overwhelming pressure bear down upon him.
But there was no other choice.
Yu Baek moved again, his blade whistling past Dokgo Jin’s throat.
Had his reaction been even a moment slower, his neck would have been severed—but that, too, was already accounted for in Dokgo Jin’s calculations.

‘I see it now.’

Unlike when he’d allowed the strike to his flank, he could now perceive the blade’s transformation completely.

‘Two sword paths. The first is a feint to trap the eye. The second is the real strike.’

Most fell without even withstanding the first blade—it was swift enough to rank among the finest under heaven.
But those who endured that Quick Blade inevitably succumbed to the Hidden Variation concealed in the second strike.
In the cold, crystalline depths of Dokgo Jin’s eyes, Yu Baek felt everything about himself laid bare and exposed.
His warrior’s instinct sent a warning to retreat, but he ignored it.
He drew a deep breath and gripped his sword tighter.
This time, he would end it.
Whether that meant his opponent—or himself.
Yu Baek roared, wringing every ounce of Inner Force from his body.
His hair, now disheveled, whipped wildly in the gale, and a crimson aura rippled across his Sword Spirit.
Yu Baek launched himself from the ground and unleashed his blade.
Hidden within the blinding radiance were two fatal sword paths.
The first blade rent the air asunder; the Hidden Variation that followed traced a trajectory even spirits could not predict.
Yet Dokgo Jin’s pupils remained still as a mountain lake.
He did not need to track it with his eyes.
The minute fluctuations in air pressure brushing his skin, his opponent’s breathing, the endless shifts in the blade’s course—all were already burned into his mind.
Dokgo Jin’s sword extended in a straight line.
No dazzling Air-Splitting Sound. No towering Sword Wind.
Yet that alone was enough to deflect Yu Baek’s Quick Blade and shatter the hidden variation perfectly.
Crack!
The violent collision of metal split Yu Baek’s sword cleanly in two, the severed half spinning skyward.
Yu Baek’s body was thrown backward as if struck by lightning, blood spraying from his mouth.
Thud.
Yu Baek dropped to one knee, releasing the Broken Sword as it fell.
From the diagonal gash that tore across his chest, blood began to seep.

“A complete defeat, then.”

Yu Baek swallowed the blood rising in his throat and laughed without strength.
His blade had never slowed until the very end.
The Hidden Variation that had toppled countless masters had been brilliant.
It was simply that his opponent had been one step ahead from the beginning.
He harbored no regret.
This was the ending he had imagined since he first drew a sword—to fall before a Master stronger than himself. Though if he was to choose, he wished that Master had been the Number One Under Heaven.
Yu Baek’s dimming gaze turned toward Dokgo Jin.

“So it… seems… it will… work out… after all…….”

Yu Baek smiled faintly, his form crumpling slowly to the earth.

* * *

Jeon Woong couldn’t gather his wits as the situation shifted abruptly.

‘What in hell is this? The Namgung Family? Why does that name appear here?’

The Namgung Family, most renowned in the Gangnam Martial World, was no mere bandit clan—they were an orthodox great house that could stand shoulder to shoulder with the entirety of Nok Rim itself.
Jeon Woong’s gaze turned toward Cheol Ryung, whose breath had left him in pitiful finality.
Though his schemes might have been somewhat lacking, he was a man born with prodigious strength, and having trained in martial arts, he’d become a formidable force that even Baekho Chae couldn’t dismiss lightly.
Yet it had taken a single blow. One attack, and Cheol Ryung had mounted no defense whatsoever—his life snuffed out in an instant.

‘Damn it. Her reputation is no lie.’

In that moment, Jeon Woong’s mind began racing at fevered speed.
He was undeniably inferior to Jo Sa-eung. Yet as a disciple of Nok Rim Tu Wang, he possessed his own measure of judgment.

‘Two masters.’

As his eyes flicked toward Namgung Mu and Namgung Suk, his gaze shifted beyond them to the ten members of the Spear Palace Unit arrayed behind.

‘Disciples of the Namgung Family? Hardly an easy lot to face.’

Jeon Woong’s lips pressed tight as his attention turned to the Gold Guard Unit.

‘The Manjin Merchant Guild has thirty guards or so, perhaps a little over forty in total. With the forces we’ve deployed, we can more than handle them.’

With numbers easily seven times superior and an encircling formation in place, he had confidence in victory. Yet against opponents of this caliber, even winning would exact an enormous price in blood.

‘If we withdraw now……’

It might be the prudent choice, yet it could also be the worst.
If he retreated empty-handed while already losing ground in the succession struggle with Jo Sa-eung, there would be no way to recover afterward.
Jo Sa-eung had promised to sabotage Jo Sa-eung’s plan targeting the Taecheong Pyo Bureau through Jeongmu Maeng, but with Madoryeon certain to intervene, even that was far from certain.
Moreover, too many eyes were watching.
With Cheol Ryung, a middling executive of Baekho Chae, already dead, simply tucking tail and retreating—as the heir presumptive to Nok Rim Tu Wang and an aspirant to the position of Chongchaejoo—would be nothing short of catastrophic. If word spread, it wasn’t merely shame at stake; he could find himself hauled before Nok Rim Tu Wang to face the Punishment.
Yet his hesitation persisted because the wounds of battle would be far too grievous to bear.

“How much longer do we wait? Didn’t you say you wanted blood? If that’s not it, then withdraw. For the sake of Nok Rim Tu Wang’s dignity, I’ll overlook this much.”

Jeon Woong couldn’t answer Namgung Suk’s mockingly-tinged warning at once; his lips pressed firmly shut.
It was then that Gwan Do approached quietly and spoke.

“Blood has already been spilled. It’s far too late to simply withdraw.”
“I suppose it is……?”

Jeon Woong asked with an expression gone rigid.

“Yes. And do not concern yourself overmuch. We have them—this is entirely manageable.”

As Jeon Woong looked to the men Gwan Do indicated, the corner of his eye lifted slightly.
Though their numbers weren’t many, the aura and bearing they emanated were somehow different from common bandits.

“That’s right. We have them.”

These men were not of Baekho Chae but rather old comrades Gwan Do had brought directly from the Central Command Unit—in terms of skill, they stood in a league entirely removed from ordinary brigands.

“Gwan Do speaks truth, young lord. How could we aspire to power if we falter before such odds?”
“The elder is right. Let us finish this.”
“The Namgung Family? Bah! Toss their reputation to the dogs.”

As the elder masters of Baekho Chae continued their encouragement, Jeon Woong at last reached his decision.
Namgung Suk, catching the sudden shift in Jeon Woong’s demeanor, signaled the Spear Palace Unit and Gold Guard Unit to prepare for combat.

“So he’s decided to see blood.”

At Namgung Suk’s scoffing remark, Jeon Woong threw his chest out and declared with utter confidence.

“I’ll grant that the Namgung Family’s reputation is formidable. But I cannot abide anyone swaggering about in Nok Rim’s domain.”

Jeon Woong slowly raised his clenched fist.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sanjuk stamped their feet and clashed their weapons in response, the sound shaking Heonhwa Pass itself.
Simultaneously, bandits bearing countless arms tightened the noose around them.

“Step back for a moment.”

Namgung Mu lightly patted the shoulder of Jin Hu Rim, who trembled with fear.

“It’ll be all right… won’t it?”

At Jin Hu Rim’s question, Namgung Mu simply offered a light smile. Yet the moment Jin Hu Rim saw that smile, the trembling that had seized her entire body vanished completely.
As Jin Hu Rim retreated behind him, the smile that lingered at Namgung Mu’s lips faded away.
When Namgung Mu, his gaze now cold and impassive, placed his hand on his sword hilt, the very air around him transformed.
Elder Dong and the veteran masters of Baekho Chae who had urged Jeon Woong toward this decision instinctively shuddered.
Those who had weathered the precipice between life and death for decades now understood—something was terribly wrong.
The man before them was no mere master to be described so simply.

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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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