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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Cyno
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Swish! Swish!
The fierce sound of a real sword slicing through the air.
Ordinary swords tend to bend at the tip when swung. Some swordsmen even use that flexibility like a whip—nothing compares to a real sword in terms of suppleness.
But the blade cutting through the air right now didn’t waver in the slightest.
And it was black.
A blade so dark it was hard to believe it was made of ordinary steel.
It was a sword forged from Mokcheol (墨鐵, “ink iron”), a material dozens of times harder than regular steel but incomparably heavier.
Swish! Swish!
The one wielding such a massive sword with flawless precision was, surprisingly, a girl.
A girl barely in her teens.
Her hair, black like her mother’s, and her eyes, blue like her father’s—she was the “Thunder Blossom” of the Namgung Family, Namgung Sua.
The fact that her sword was made of rare Mokcheol was no coincidence.
The Namgung Family’s swords were among the heaviest in the world.
Swish! Swish!
With Yoo So-eun having left to visit other factions and martial families, Sua was alone in her private training hall, swinging her sword.
Though “swinging” wasn’t quite the right word.
Her expression was blank, devoid of emotion—she was merely moving it back and forth.
She raised the sword overhead, then brought it down in a simple vertical slash, like the first stance of the Samjae Sword Technique, devoid of any flourish.
It wasn’t that she lacked enthusiasm—there was undeniable power behind each swing.
It was just that her hollow, indifferent face made it seem otherwise.
Swish! Swish!
And so, Namgung Sua swung her sword alone, over and over.
It should have been tedious, yet she continued without pause until the sun set and Yoo So-eun returned.
Swish!
Whoosh—
Thud!
Then, at some point, she lost her grip.
The heavy iron sword struck the ground with a deep, resonant clang, but she didn’t even glance at it.
Instead, she slowly raised her hand and stared at her stinging palm.
“Ah.”
Drip—
Her palm was scraped raw, blood streaming down in thick rivulets.
It was clearly a serious wound.
“Bleeding.”
She observed her hand indifferently before finally speaking.
“Ah.”
Drip—
Drop, drop—
Her words were halting, as if she were struggling to speak.
“Need…”
Namgung Sua seemed unsteady.
“Treatment.”
***
To think I’d end up witnessing my son-in-law’s conversation with his ex-wife firsthand. How amusing. Absolutely addictive. I’d love to see it again.
As usual, Jin Wu-yong’s sly voice wormed its way into my mind.
‘Too bad for you. You won’t get to see a scene like that again.’
I wasn’t in the mood to humor his banter right now.
Hard to say. Life is unpredictable, isn’t it? Didn’t I tell you—everything gets twisted eventually.
‘Su-a might be family, but Yoo So-eun is now a complete stranger to me. What kind of conversation could we possibly have? It’s not like we’re on good terms.’
It was complicated. Maybe even oversensitive. Yoo So-eun’s sudden visit had soured my mood for no reason.
Damn it, why did she have to show up unannounced? I stubbornly refused to wear a mask, and of course, the one person who’d recognize my face had to walk in.
Pfft, hilarious. You say that, but you actually enjoyed it, didn’t you?
‘What are you talking about? Why would I enjoy that?’
Don’t try to fool me—I’m sitting right in your mind. When you faced your ex-wife, your heart twisted in disgust. But the moment you heard the Namgung Family’s prestige was crumbling, didn’t it brighten up for just a second?
‘…That’s nonsense.’
I denied it outright, but somewhere deep down, I knew he was right.
Honestly, I had felt a flicker of joy.
No, more than joy—it was something else. Hard to define, but if I had to pick a word, it would be satisfaction.
Like when I vented my accumulated rage during my regression days by brutally slaughtering Blood Cultists and piling their organs into mountains.
Ah, you bastard. You really do have unique tastes. And to think you had the perfect ability—regression—to indulge them, yet you kept it hidden all this time. You’ve always known, haven’t you?
‘Stop forcing your narrative. I don’t have such depraved tastes.’
You do, you just won’t admit it. Because of that damn self-righteous complex of yours. It’s fascinating, really. Digging through your memories, I’ve seen plenty of moments like that. When you separated the bones and flesh of those Jiangshi, your mouth was smiling, but your eyes were dead, and your mind was screaming, ‘This is horrifying.’
Now he’s just making things up.
Me, like that? Ridiculous. No matter how good I felt, I wouldn’t have let it show on my face.
Ugh, you’ve got that stubborn look again. After living ascetically for over ten thousand years, you’ve become a master at lying to yourself, haven’t you?
‘At least say something believable. No matter what, the Namgung Family is my birth family. How could I possibly be happy to hear they’re declining?’
The family that abandoned you. Don’t deny it so vehemently. It’s only natural to resent those who cast you aside—even if it’s the family you were born into.
‘There’s a difference between resentment and taking pleasure in their downfall.’
Tsk, you’re so rigid. Listen. No human is one-dimensional. Good and evil coexist in everyone. That’s not strange. It’s not bad, nor is it something to be ashamed of. You need to accept that… though, given your state, I doubt you’ll ever reach that level of enlightenment.
People aren’t one-dimensional.
I knew that intellectually.
It’s obvious, isn’t it? Humans are inherently dual-natured.
But after spending my regression days categorizing people as “good” or “evil” and killing without guilt, I had no choice but to reject that truth.
If I accepted that the Blood Cultists I killed were “good” to someone, and those I protected were “evil” to others, the weight of each murder would have crushed me.
I wish I could believe in rebirth like the monks of the Western Pure Land, but having met the Tathagata in the celestial realms of the West, I couldn’t bring myself to accept such an irresponsible notion.
Fine, you’re right. You, who had to be the absolute good, never had the luxury of being honest with your emotions. You had to force yourself to fit the world’s standards just to keep your sanity. Pathetic bastard.
‘Enough about the regression. It’s not a pleasant memory. It’s over anyway.’
I bring it up because you’re still trapped in that “regression machine” mindset. It’s frustrating. And… that conversation with your ex-wife was far too entertaining. Honestly, I’d love to see it again.
‘Don’t you feel sorry for your descendant? Your son-in-law—no, wait, I’m not even your son-in-law—wants to watch a man talk to his ex-wife? Does that make sense? Don’t you care about your daughter’s feelings?’
Not my daughter. Just a distant descendant who happens to be the current family head.
‘…’
Better to stay silent.
Talking to Jin Wu-yong always left me feeling tangled in his words. He spouts nothing but nonsense, yet somehow, it’s hard to refute.
Maybe because there’s always a grain of truth in it.
Still, I’m impressed you didn’t explode. I’ll give you that.
‘Explode? What do you mean?’
What I mentioned before. I was half-expecting you to lose it mid-conversation and start cursing. I was a little worried, honestly.
‘Since when do you worry about anything?’
If you exploded, I wouldn’t get to see that thrilling conversation again. Do you have any idea how entertaining that was? Far more gripping than those cheap erotic novels sold in the markets.
‘…’
Absurd. Not just nonsensical, but downright vulgar.
Honestly, this old man is exhausting.
I’m starting to think my younger brother sealed him in the Moonlight Sect not just because he wielded an axe.
Swoosh—
A girl’s fingers trailed along the jawline of the boy beneath her.
Her touch was smooth as honey, as if she knew exactly how to handle a man.
This wasn’t her first time.
“Martial Sister, what’s gotten into you today?”
The boy smirked, fully aware of her experience.
At a glance, he looked like an honest, wholesome young man.
But the vulgar grin on his face created a stark dissonance.
Not that the girl seemed to mind—she was used to it.
“Just felt like it. Oh, right, did you see that earlier? The Namgung Family’s mistress left something behind.”
“Uh… that Gongjindan? Yeah, I saw it. Not the pill—her. Damn, she’s still fine.”
“Wasn’t she our senior? What a stupid bitch. She threw away her sect and position to chase after a man and marry into the Namgung Family, and now that they’re falling apart, she’s running around offering tribute to other factions.”
“Back when she was at the main branch, I used to sneak peeks at her all the time. Time hasn’t changed her. So, what do you say—wanna go for a round?”
The boy’s knees shifted beneath her.
Understanding his meaning, the girl grinned playfully and caught his wrist as he reached for her.
“Martial Brother, you still have to teach me the Solitary Nine Swords. You’ve only shown me half of it.”
The girl was one of the Seven Blossoms of the Hua Shan Sect—Baihua, the “White Blossom.”
Despite her elegant title, she traded her body for martial arts, seducing men with practiced ease.
“Ah, come on, we can do that later. Let’s take care of business first.”
The boy, known as Jianlong, the “Sword Dragon,” was one of the Nine Dragons and the Hua Shan Sect’s next leader.
Despite his reputation as a rising star of the orthodox sects, he frequently traded the sect’s techniques for money and pleasure—just like now.
“Really? You’re going to be this stingy? You promised to teach me the Solitary Nine Swords in exchange for this.”
“Ugh, things are risky lately. The Sect Leader’s watching me like a hawk. I almost got caught last time for selling the Fourteen Plum Blossom Sword Technique to the Taiyuan Zhen Family. If I get exposed, I’m done for.”
“Hmph, then no deal. Did you think I’d just let you have me for free? The Solitary Nine Swords is only passed down to the Sect Leader. If you won’t teach me, I won’t just roll over for you.”
“Tch, fine. One round, then I’ll teach you. Happy?”
“…Promise?”
“Of course. Don’t you trust me? I’m Jianlong. The Hua Shan Sect’s Great Disciple, Jianlong.”
Soon after.
Baihua’s body collapsed onto Jianlong’s toned stomach.
“Ngh—Oh—Ugh—Hah—Just so you know, don’t go using the Solitary Nine Swords recklessly. If you get caught, I’m screwed too—!”
“Mhm—Ah—Mhm—Okay. I promise. I won’t—use it—where anyone can see—Ngh—Ah—Mhm—!”
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