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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Silverriver
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“You…! You abandoned even your last shred of pride as a martial artist…!”
“Don’t be absurd. Poison is also a valid martial art.”
“Master! Step back and treat your wounds! I’ll handle them!”
Seong-cheol moved to intervene, but Jang-un shook his head.
“Don’t be foolish. Your talent is exceptional, but you lack the experience needed to master Yegeom. You might be able to handle those other thugs, but you’re no match for Namgung Hwan.”
“But-”
“I won’t waste time explaining. Take Ye-ryeong and escape. I won’t allow the Dokgo bloodline, the Dokgo swordsmanship, to die while I still draw breath.”
-Rumble!
A powerful aura, far stronger than anything he had displayed before, erupted from Jang-un.
It was his innate, primordial Qi. Not ordinary internal energy, but the very essence of his life force, unleashed at the cost of his own lifespan. It was a sign that he had no intention of leaving this fight alive.
“Grandfather! No!”
Ye-ryeong cried out, tears streaming down her face. Jang-un looked at her, his fierce warrior’s expression softening into a gentle smile.
“My dear Ye-ryeong… I’m sorry, my child. I haven’t been a good grandfather to you, you are my only remaining family. I’m so sorry.”
“No, Grandfather! Don’t say that! I… I-”
“Seong-cheol, I’m entrusting her to you.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Wait! Mister Seong-cheol! Grandfather!!”
-Grab!
Seong-cheol scooped up Ye-ryeong and fled. Namgung Hwan immediately yelled at his men,
“After them!!”
But then.
-Crack!!
A massive fissure appeared in the ground where the assassins were standing, carved by Jang-un’s sword.
“Dokgoyegeom is a preemptive sword style. It specializes in taking the heads of fools who rush in blindly. Let me make this clear. If you cross this line, I will kill you. Even if you retreat, I will kill you. If you value your lives, stay where you are.”
“That dying old man…!”
Namgung Hwan roared in frustration, but even he couldn’t bring himself to cross the line Jang-un had drawn.
After all, who was Dokgo Jang-un?
He might be past his prime, but in his heyday, he was known as one of the Five Greats, the Sword Saint of his generation.
To cross that line was to challenge the legend of the Sword Saint.
Even though Namgung Hwan had come here with the intention to kill, he couldn’t ignore the weight of that title.
“…Cough.”
But that reputation was a thing of the past. Moreover, the poison was coursing through his veins, slowly sapping his strength. Seeing Jang-un coughing up blood, Namgung Hwan sneered.
“All talk and no action, old man? You’re going to die soon anyway.”
“And you’re frozen in place, afraid of a dying old man? You talk a big game. If there were a tournament for verbal sparring, you would surely be the champion. Congratulations! The Namgung Clan finally controls the world!”
“Damn you…!!”
Namgung Hwan channeled his internal energy, assuming a fighting stance. His men, too, drew their swords, ready to attack.
‘Good. Come at me.’
This was better for Jang-un. In his current state, he wouldn’t be able to pursue them if they tried to escape.
However.
“Such misplaced confidence. You didn’t think we were the only assassins, did you, old man?”
Namgung Hwan’s words, laced with a cruel amusement, made a chill run down Jang-un’s spine. He had a terrible premonition.
“Damn it.”
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Meanwhile, Seong-cheol was running through the forest, Ye-ryeong on his back.
She had pleaded with him to go back, to help her grandfather, but he had refused. Returning now would only make Jang-un’s sacrifice meaningless.
“Damn it.”
But then, he too realized the enemy’s trap and cursed under his breath.
-Shing!!
-Clang!!
A projectile, thrown from the darkness, flew towards him. He deflected it with his sword, his movements hampered by Ye-ryeong on his back.
“Agh?!”
“Pursuers! Hold on tight, Ye-ryeong!”
-Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
He dodged and deflected the incoming projectiles as he ran.
‘The Namgung Clan wouldn’t possess this level of skill with hidden weapons. And considering Master’s words… the Tang Clan is involved in this attack as well!’
The projectiles, coming from all directions, were expertly aimed, cutting off his escape routes. He desperately dodged and deflected, but some found their mark, embedding themselves in his flesh.
‘At this rate, we’ll be caught.’
He changed direction, running blindly through the forest, his lungs burning, his muscles screaming in protest. He finally reached a clearing, a cliff overlooking the valley below.
“hah… hah… hah…!”
“Running into a dead end? You fool.”
The assassins emerged from the forest. Five of them. Fewer than he had expected.
“You’re the fools. I led you here on purpose.”
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The fight began.
Seong-cheol fought like a man possessed, his movements a blur of speed and power. The assassins, having underestimated him due to his injuries and the poison, quickly realized their mistake. The title of Little Sword Saint wasn’t earned lightly. While he lacked Jang-un’s experience, his internal energy had long since surpassed his master’s.
“Gah!”
“Agh!!”
After a fierce struggle, Seong-cheol had defeated all of them. Covered in shurikens and kunai, he grabbed the last surviving assassin by the throat.
“The antidote. You have it. Give it to me.”
“Y-yes! I’ll give it to you! Just spare my life…!”
The assassin handed him the antidote. Seong-cheol took it, then killed him without hesitation. He swallowed the antidote and turned to Ye-ryeong, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Ye-ryeong, we have to go. Before more of them arrive-”
But her face was pale, her breathing shallow. As he moved towards her, she collapsed to her knees.
“Ye-ryeong!!”
He rushed to her side and saw a shuriken embedded in her back. “When… when did this happen?!” He asked, his voice filled with panic. Ye-ryeong smiled weakly.
“In the… forest… I’m sorry… I didn’t tell you… I didn’t want you to worry… and be distracted…”
“Stay calm. Control your breathing. I’ll give you the antidote…!”
He frantically searched the bodies of the assassins. He found another vial of antidote and quickly poured it into her mouth.
“Ugh… cough! Gah?!”
But her condition didn’t improve. A pool of blood was spreading across the ground beneath her.
“I tried… to control the bleeding… but… I couldn’t… Grandfather was right… I… I lack talent…”
“Stop! Don’t talk! I’ll find a way! Just… stay with me!”
He examined her wound. The shuriken was deeply embedded in the middle of her right back.
A flicker of memory from his past life surfaced. The shuriken had pierced her liver. He vaguely remembered hearing that the area around the liver lacked muscle and was rich in blood vessels, making it difficult to stop bleeding.
‘No! This isn’t my world! This is the Murim! There has to be a way…!’
He tried to stop the bleeding using pressure points and other techniques he vaguely remembered, but nothing worked. Despair began to creep into his heart.
Then.
“It’s okay, Mister Seong-cheol… Maybe… this is for the best…”
Ye-ryeong spoke, her voice weak and raspy. He looked at her, his eyes filled with confusion.
“You… you have a home to return to… a real family waiting for you… If I die… you’ll have no more reason to stay here… right…?”
“Don’t say that! You and Master… you’re both my family! There’s no real or fake between us!”
“Really…? I’m glad… I’m not the only one…”
She reached up weakly and caressed his cheek. His tears mingled with the blood on her hand.
“Mister Seong-cheol… can I… ask you something…?”
He nodded silently, his heart breaking.
“Do you… love me…?”
“Of course I do. You’re my precious family.”
“I… loved you, too…”
As a father figure? Or as a man?
Even on the verge of death, she couldn’t define the nature of her feelings for him. But it didn’t matter anymore.
Only one thing mattered.
She was precious to him. Knowing that was enough.
“I truly… loved you…”
With those final words, Ye-ryeong’s breath hitched, and then she was gone. Seong-cheol watched the light fade from her eyes, his heart shattering into a million pieces. He wept, his cries of anguish echoing through the night.
“No, Ye-ryeong! Ye-ryeong! Please, no! Uwaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!”
His cries, unheard by anyone but the silent trees and the indifferent moon, continued until the first light of dawn touched the horizon.
That day, Seong-cheol lost his precious daughter.
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And the next day.
A ginseng digger, wandering through the mountains, noticed bloodstains near the gate of the Dokgo estate.
The villagers opened the gate and found Jang-un’s body. It was the only body, but the bloodstains indicated that others had been present.
There had been a fight. They knew it instantly, but they couldn’t find the perpetrator. Even the Murim Alliance, which should have been investigating, was strangely indifferent to the incident.
Months passed, and the mysterious deaths at the Dokgo estate faded from people’s memories. Some tried to find Seong-cheol and Ye-ryeong, whose bodies had never been found, but even those efforts eventually ceased.
A few connected the mysterious deaths at the Dokgo estate to the disappearances of several members of the Namgung and Tang Clans around the same time. But those who voiced such suspicions soon vanished themselves. A strange coincidence.
And so, the incident was forgotten.
It wasn’t until a year later that people remembered.
When a single martial artist slaughtered the entire Namgung Clan.
The perpetrator’s identity was quickly revealed. He had declared it openly to the witnesses after leaving the scene of the massacre.
I am Seong-cheol, Little Sword Saint of the Dokgo Clan.
I have returned to punish those who killed my father and daughter.
The Murim Alliance immediately issued an order for his capture, but their ranks, thinned by the war and devoid of true talent, were no match for him. Seong-cheol, who had been a promising disciple just a year ago, had become a force to be reckoned with, a martial artist even veteran sect leaders couldn’t handle.
While the Murim Alliance trembled in fear, Seong-cheol attacked the Sichuan Tang Clan, unleashing another bloodbath. People, witnessing his ruthless efficiency, his cold-blooded slaughter, began to call him
His reputation as the strongest of the younger generation was quickly replaced by infamy.
With the Namgung and Tang Clans annihilated by a single man, fear gripped the Jianghu. No one knew where the Sword Demon’s blade would fall next.
However.
After the incident at the Tang Clan, the Sword Demon disappeared. People speculated about his whereabouts and his motives.
Some said his revenge was complete.
Some said he had succumbed to the Tang Clan’s poison.
Some said a hidden master had emerged from seclusion to deliver justice.
Some said he was simply biding his time, waiting for the right moment to unleash another bloodbath.
But no one knew the truth.
Seong-cheol, the Sword Demon, who had unleashed a storm of blood and violence upon the Jianghu after the Battle of Jeongsa.
No one suspected that he had simply been returned to his original world.
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