The Great Heavenly Sword Emperor - Chapter 15

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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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#015. The Right to Survive (3)

Gwang An, having found Beigong Danya conscious and returned, now sat across from Cheon Mugyeol in the Dharma Hall.
Gwang An, his complexion troubled, heaved a long sigh the moment he sat.
“I regret it, frankly.”
At Gwang An’s words, Cheon Mugyeol paused the teacup he’d been holding and looked at him.
“Having suggested he meet the Beigong heir. Whether that was the right call.”
A heavy silence fell.
Cheon Mugyeol said nothing in response to Gwang An’s regret.
It was the very emotion he’d felt throughout watching Beigong Danya endure and withstand Mugyeol’s assault to the bitter end.
Guilt. Remorse.
He had not imagined Cheon Mugyeol would conduct a trial so cruel.
Even when he’d arranged for the contract to be placed with Mugyeol, he hadn’t truly grasped how savage this trial would be.
But having witnessed it firsthand, he felt only profound apology toward Beigong Danya.
Would it have been kinder to leave him be, never to meet Cheon Mugyeol, to spend the rest of his life as an ordinary man? The thought would not leave him.
“There is nothing to apologize for, nothing to regret.”
At Cheon Mugyeol’s words, Gwang An looked at him.
“We offered only a choice, and Beigong Danya made the decision himself. I spoke of placing a contract with Mugyeol before him for the same reason—to tell him he could surrender right then, if he wished.”
Gwang An had no response to Cheon Mugyeol’s words.
It was true. The choice had been Beigong Danya’s alone.
Yet the pang of guilt would not relent.
“Beigong Danya has regained consciousness.”
“Is that so?”
“The Assassination Trial with Mugyeol will begin again now.”
“Indeed.”
Cheon Mugyeol replied as though discussing someone else’s affair entirely.
Though Gwang An wanted to say something in response to that manner, he clenched his lips and said nothing.
“The trial ends after one more round. To watch beyond that would be pointless.”
At Cheon Mugyeol’s words, both relief and dread bloomed in Gwang An’s chest.
He could only hope—that Beigong Danya would survive, even if grievously wounded.

* * *

After regaining consciousness.
Beigong Danya examined the first battle dispassionately.
The conclusion was singular.
‘I survived by fortune alone.’
The fight within the chamber had allowed him some control over the assassin’s movements, but it was not a place for prolonged combat.
Above all, it was a battlefield ill-suited to his own Martial Techniques.
Inevitably, he had to emerge from the room, yet neither was that ground favorable.
An open space invites encirclement.
Given the Beigong Clan’s particular characteristics in Martial Technique, his matchup against an assassin was already poor—and being forced to meet attacks from all sides made the position utterly untenable.
That he survived such circumstances approached the miraculous.
‘Not here. And the same stratagem will not work twice.’
Beigong Danya rose from his bed.
He needed to find a different place to fight.

Beigong Danya moved quietly through Bohyeon Temple, blending among the pilgrims who had come to the shrine.
He examined the dimensions of each building and the terrain surrounding them with meticulous care.
Drawing on lessons from the first battle, he excluded all locations thick with trees or exposed on all sides.
He studied his own Martial Technique coolly, judged his present strength with unflinching honesty, and selected his battleground with deliberate precision.
As he surveyed the temple’s grounds in this manner.
“Ah.”
Beigong Danya let slip a soft sound.
He had crossed paths with Cheon Mugyeol descending from the Sanshin Pavilion above the Daeungjon Hall.
Beigong Danya bowed respectfully toward him.
Yet Cheon Mugyeol regarded Beigong Danya with the same emotionless gaze as when they’d first met at Bohyeon Temple.
Beigong Danya tensed.
He’d completed the first trial, after all.
He wanted to know what Cheon Mugyeol made of it.
But he couldn’t ask outright.
All he could do was wait for Cheon Mugyeol to speak first.
“It’s not over yet.”
“I understand.”
“If you survive again, we’ll meet then.”
“I will survive.”
Beigong Danya spoke with conviction.
“If you fight as you did yesterday—injuries aside—there’ll be no need to meet again.”
At Cheon Mugyeol’s words, Beigong Danya’s eyes flew wide.
He’d seen everything?
Shame flooded through him.
Hadn’t he himself retraced his steps yesterday and realized how grievously his thinking and judgment had failed?
The thought that Cheon Mugyeol had witnessed all of it—every choice, every misstep—made the shame unbearable.
“It will be different now.”
Cheon Mugyeol walked past him without a word at his assertion.
It was absolute indifference—he offered no encouragement, no hope.
Beigong Danya stood rooted to the spot, his mind churning.
‘Mere survival isn’t enough.’
He was beginning to understand what Cheon Mugyeol truly wanted to see.
The strength to endure. The will that would not break.
Beyond that, the ability to make sound judgments and choices no matter the circumstance.
Cheon Mugyeol wanted to see all of who Beigong Danya was.
‘I will prove it to him. I must.’
Beigong Danya clenched his fists until they trembled.
His gaze drifted toward the Sanshin Pavilion, where Cheon Mugyeol had descended from.
“Ah!”
Beigong Danya’s eyes snapped open as if he’d just awakened to something.
“Here……!”
Beyond the short forest path that cut behind the Daeungjon Hall lay a long, narrow flight of stone stairs leading down to the Sanshin Pavilion.
Because the forest path intervened, there were no trees close enough to the Stone Stairs for assassins to hide in.
Standing at the midpoint of the stairs, he could engage assassins from above while minimizing the risk of encirclement.
The Beigong Clan’s martial techniques favored direct confrontation.
By reducing threats from the sides and above and focusing solely on enemies charging straight ahead, he could play to the Beigong Clan’s strengths perfectly.
Beigong Danya climbed the Stone Stairs slowly.
As he climbed, he surveyed the surrounding terrain once more, confirming that it matched his initial assessment.
The stairs were narrow—only space enough for two or three people to fight.
The steep pitch of the stairs made it difficult to approach from the sides.
And most crucially, the advantage of looking down rather than looking up.
In every respect, this was an excellent location to shore up his weaknesses.
“This is the place.”
Beigong Danya had made his decision.
Whenever it came, his next battle with the Mugyeol assassins would be fought here.
‘Was meeting Master Cheon here mere chance?’
Beigong Danya gazed at the spot where he’d encountered Cheon Mugyeol.
Whether chance or fate, he’d been helped by Cheon Mugyeol, and so he bowed toward that place, his fist pressed to his palm in gratitude.
“I won’t disappoint you.”
Beigong Danya murmured the oath once more, as if sealing it to stone.

* * *

Had Cheon Mugyeol heard Beigong Danya’s words?
He paused mid-stride and glanced back over his shoulder.
The sight of Beigong Danya, gazing at the Stone Stairs he’d chosen as his battlefield, caught his eye.
‘He’s beginning to see the path now, it seems.’
Cheon Mugyeol murmured this to himself as he watched Beigong Danya, then turned away again.

* * *

Not far from Bohyeon Temple, in a shadowed place.
Jang Pafung did not return to Mugyeol’s headquarters but lingered there through the day.
He had already learned that Beigong Danya had regained consciousness, so naturally he intended to execute the second Assassination Trial today.
“Summon every First-Class Assassin who can be reached!”
Jang Pafung assembled the First-Class Assassins.
Within less than two hours of his command, four of Mugyeol’s nine First-Class Assassins had gathered.
“Is this all?”
“The rest are all engaged in current contracts.”
“Damn it.”
Though Jang Pafung grumbled, four First-Class Assassins were far from insufficient numbers.
Four First-Class Assassins from Mugyeol could inflict tremendous damage on a mid-tier martial sect and annihilate the core forces of a minor faction entirely.
That was precisely why Jang Pafung had not included First-Class Assassins in the first attempt.
Unable to kill Beigong Danya with this force? A wounded man at that—one who had been gravely injured yesterday?
It would be a catastrophic blow to Mugyeol’s honor.
“Well, you should be more than sufficient. Your target is Beigong Danya at Bohyeon Temple. You’re aware of this, I trust?”
“Yes.”
The four First-Class Assassins answered tersely to Jang Pafung’s words.
“I don’t know what Cheon Mugyeol is thinking, but kill Beigong Danya without fail. I will not tolerate our honor being tarnished by failing to kill a man already wounded!”
“Yes!”
The four First-Class Assassins answered tersely once more.
The light in Jang Pafung’s eyes burned with fierce intensity as he regarded them.

* * *

After selecting the place to fight and returning to his room, Beigong Danya devoted himself to recovery through Yunji, however briefly, and left his quarters as the sun began to set.
It was then that he happened to encounter Gwang An, who had been searching for him.
“Where are you going, sir?”
“To make preparations.”
Gwang An continued from Beigong Danya’s words.
“We cannot know if they will strike today or tomorrow.”
“Which is why preparations must begin today. But I am certain they will come tonight.”
“What makes you so confident?”
“Because I have regained consciousness, and they failed to kill me yesterday.”
That alone was reason enough for Mugyeol to launch another Assassination Trial immediately.
Gwang An understood this as well.
“Do not seek to fight them. Above all, choose the path of survival.”
“I understand.”
Beigong Danya answered with a subtle smile playing at his lips, acknowledging Gwang An’s concern-laden advice.
“The atmosphere about you is quite different from yesterday.”
“It seems I have changed after brushing so close with death.”
“Do you believe you can overcome this ordeal as well?”
“I have already chosen the place to fight. Whether it becomes the place of my death or the place of battle, I cannot say.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. The Stone Stairs leading up to Sanshin Pavilion.”
“Then no one should approach that area tonight.”
“That would be for the best.”
Gwang An nodded at Beigong Danya’s words and offered one more word of caution.
“Please, you must survive.”
“I will.”
With those words, Beigong Danya turned his steps toward the Stone Stairs.
Gwang An turned, watching the retreating figure of Beigong Danya as he moved toward the battlefield.
‘Please, let him live. Namo Amitabha Buddha, Avalokitesvara Bodhisattva.’
Gwang An pressed his palms together in prayer and bowed deeply toward Beigong Danya’s back.
He felt that Beigong Danya’s survival might be the only way to ease, even slightly, the weight of remorse that pressed upon him.

* * *

The sun descended swiftly into darkness.
Darkness had settled over Bohyeon Temple, and Beigong Danya stood midway up the Stone Stairs, the place he had chosen for the fight, gazing up at the sky.
“Not a cloud tonight.”
Unlike yesterday, today the sky held not a single cloud.
The moon hung clear and brilliant, its pale light pushing back the darkness of the earth below.
Was that why?
He felt less afraid than he’d expected.
The tension and weight remained, but they did not consume him.
Yet neither was he reckless or elated.
He remained composed, his will to survive unshaken, his resolve to endure absolute.
He could not predict the outcome.
But it seemed he could accept whatever came.
“Exhale…”
Beigong Danya drew in another deep breath, steadying his mind.
Then he waited calmly for the assassins to appear.

* * *

Upon the massive boulder behind Sanshin Pavilion.
Cheon Mugyeol and Gwang An stood there.
Jang Pafung, who had been prattling on about drink, had not shown himself—which caused a fleeting thought to cross Gwang An’s mind: what if there were no attack tonight?
But that hope crumbled swiftly.
Jang Pafung appeared, carrying the liquor himself.
“Didn’t think you’d have any ready, so I brought it myself. You’ll settle the debt once the work is done—count on it.”
Jang Pafung lifted up several bottles of liquor dangling from a cord woven from straw, speaking as he did.
Gwang An did not respond.
He had no wish to.
Now that Jang Pafung had arrived, the assassins would appear soon.
And indeed.
An assassin moving with careful stealth came into Gwang An’s sight.
At the same moment, Beigong Danya drew his blade.
Cheon Mugyeol’s gaze fixed upon Beigong Danya.
‘Now that you have found your path, show me how you walk it.’
Cheon Mugyeol murmured the words to himself.

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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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