—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: cyno
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Sniff, sniff.
In a space as dark as pitch, where not an inch ahead was visible, a girl twitched her nose.
Tears welled up in her eyes, glistening.
‘Mister…?’
Unable to speak, the only thing the girl could do was think.
Her eyes were tightly shut, refusing to open—no sight existed for her.
Her body was rigid, unable to move even a hair.
The only thing the girl could perceive was scent.
‘Ah, Mister…? Wh-where did you go…?’
But for a while now…
The scent had disappeared.
The scent of the man she adored more than anyone, the one she longed for.
‘Where did you go…? Did you leave me behind…?’
The scent of the one she craved so desperately, the one she couldn’t help but obsess over.
Sniff, sniff, sniff—
‘N-no… right? It’s not… right? You didn’t… abandon me, did you…??’
Anxious, the girl kept twitching her nose.
Praying that she would catch not just the lingering traces of where the man had been, but his actual scent.
Her eyes were already shut, her hands couldn’t move, but still—
The girl poured herself into prayer.
The thought of him leaving her was now so terrifying she couldn’t even imagine it.
‘Mister…….’
How much time had passed like this?
A cold breeze brushed against the tip of her nose.
The same chill she had felt when the man had vanished before.
‘Mister? Mister! Mister!’
Jin Gayoung screamed with all her might.
Had the heavens answered her prayers?
Sniff, sniff—twitch.
At the sudden return of the familiar scent, Jin Gayoung’s breath trembled.
Undoubtedly, the scent of ‘Mister.’
But… it was different from usual.
Not the faded yet warm, ironclad yet comforting scent she knew.
‘Mister…?’
Now, the scent she was picking up carried—
‘Why… does it smell like blood…?’
An unmistakable, thick metallic stench, vivid and undeniable.
Crunch—
Whoosh—
Though they had just stepped outside, the snowflakes had already piled thickly atop the divine forms of Lightning and Okhwa.
“Well, we’ve come out as you wished. What now?”
Lightning’s tone was curt as he threw the question at her.
Feeling the bizarre sensation of her entire body being riddled with holes from mere words, Okhwa replied:
“There’s no need for conversation.”
Swoosh—
With a blade gleaming coldly under the moonlight held high above her head—
“Eradicate evil, slay demons. The unshakable conviction you’ve upheld longer than anyone—you, who’ve watched me the longest, know it best.”
“Haha…”
Lightning let out a hollow laugh.
“I know. I truly do.”
His voice dripped with resignation.
“Having watched you far longer than you’ve known yourself, I dare say I understand you better than you do.”
Beneath that, buried under an even greater sense of betrayal—though it didn’t show—was something far heavier.
“Okhwa, I have one question for you.”
“What is it? I’m not the type to entertain the questions of a soon-to-be corpse, but for old times’ sake, I’ll humor you.”
“Did you really come here believing you could defeat me?”
As he asked, Lightning stared straight at Okhwa.
His gaze was piercing, as if seeing right through her soul. Okhwa bit her lip, about to answer—
“Of cou—”
“Surely, you didn’t.”
Lightning cut her off, answering for her. She had no choice but to fall silent.
“You, who’ve watched me longer than anyone else—how could you not know? That not even all the martial artists of Zhongyuan combined could hope to defeat me.”
His tone was almost recitative as he continued, staring at Okhwa’s hostile glare.
“Yet you came anyway… meaning you overcame your fear. Even if it costs your life, you’ll uphold your so-called justice, clinging to your convictions—whether it’s ‘eradicate evil’ or ‘slay demons.’ What a pitiful contradiction.”
“Shut up! Who said anything about losing?!”
“But… even if justice matters, shouldn’t you at least distinguish friend from foe? The way I see it, you’re nothing but a madwoman swinging her sword blindly.”
Tap—
Lightning took a step toward Okhwa.
A step that carried an unspoken threat.
“I am not evil. The world—and you—are.”
“……!”
“Before we settle this physically, I’d like to show you proof at the very least.”
Okhwa raised her sword. The sharp tip pointed at Lightning as if ready to slice him apart at any moment.
Unfazed, Lightning took another step forward.
“It might be tedious, but I want you to realize it yourself. How your so-called ‘noble sacrifice’ is nothing but self-indulgent folly. How much savagery you’ve committed under the guise of ‘justice.’ I want you to see it.”
Swish—
Lightning reached out.
Okhwa resisted violently, but—
Tap—
Thud—!
With a grip as effortless as subduing a child, Lightning seized her wrist.
Her sword, now flung into the snow, was left buried in the flurry.
“Tripartite Finger.”
“……!!”
Holding her hand firmly, Lightning slowly guided it toward his own abdomen.
Specifically, his lower dantian.
“I doubt I’ll regret this choice.”
Tap—
“Y-you bastard…! What kind of trick are you pulling now?!”
Okhwa’s cold palm pressed against Lightning’s lower abdomen.
With just a slight surge of internal energy, she could shatter his dantian—effectively handing her his very life.
“Does it seem like I’m playing tricks?”
“If not, then what is this?!”
“Not a trick. Just a desperate attempt to make you face reality.”
Hummm—!
As he spoke, Lightning resonated his dantian.
A clear, resonant sound echoed in all directions.
The dark night sky was gradually swallowed by ominous clouds.
At the center of it all, Okhwa’s face twisted in shock.
Huuuummm—!
“……!!!”
The energy emanating from Lightning’s dantian—
“Fascinating. By your logic, you’re the righteous one and I’m the villain. Yet my internal energy is purer than yours.”
It was more pristine than Okhwa’s, who had trained in Kunlun’s martial arts.
“A… an illusion…?”
“I’ve studied them, but I’ve never used them in this life. That hasn’t changed.”
“Wh-what is this…? What kind of trick is this?! Answer me properly!”
“Seeing is believing. I spared my breath and offered my dantian, yet you spew nonsense. Instead of spouting nonsense, why not examine my dantian yourself? See if there’s even a speck of demonic energy.”
“This… this can’t be…! A trick! It has to be a trick…!”
Shhk, swish—
Before she knew it, Okhwa was frantically running her hands over Lightning’s abdomen, her expression dazed.
She pulled at his clothes, pressing her cold palm against his bare skin—
But all she felt were rough scars and an endlessly pure internal energy.
Not a trace of the demonic energy or bloodlust she expected.
“H-how…?”
A groan escaped Okhwa’s lips.
Lightning smiled faintly at her, hunched over and fumbling at his abdomen.
A twisted smile, unsettling to behold.
“At least you have the courage to face the truth.”
“What…?”
Confused, Okhwa looked up at Lightning’s meaningful words—
“If you had run from the truth, too afraid of your own convictions—if you had confirmed the purity of my energy and still struck my dantian to forget it—”
As Lightning spoke, her delicate face began to distort.
“—I would have been disappointed. Again. In you, who’ve already sunk so low I had no expectations left.”
His words framed her as the villain.
And the rising image of her own vileness from the depths of her subconscious—
“…Stop your tricks.”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t know how you erased your demonic energy, but once a villain, always a villain. Once a demon, always a demon. People don’t change.”
“If you’d said that in front of the Divine Monk, you’d have been debating all day.”
“Shut up! You filthy demon!”
Startled, Okhwa yanked her hand back and grabbed her sword from the snow.
“Y-you… d-d-d-demon…!”
She glared at Lightning with disgust.
Paradoxically, that disgust wasn’t directed at him—
But at herself.
“Your heart harbors a demon. A horrifying one that needs villains to exist.”
“S-stop it! Don’t come closer! Stay back!”
“Enough pointless resistance. I’m holding back the urge to unleash my fury just to make you see reality.”
“D-don’t come any closer…! I said stop…!”
“If I killed you without showing you the truth, you’d die comfortably, justifying yourself. ‘See? The Sword Saint was evil.’ You’d rationalize it even in death. The thought makes me sick. So listen to me while I’m still talking.”
Lightning shot her a disdainful glance.
“…Quit trembling like a scared little mouse.”
“……!”
True to his words, Okhwa—who had sworn to kill him—was now cowering as if terrified of Lightning.
Her shoulders were hunched, her upper body leaning away.
In truth, she wasn’t afraid of him—
But of facing her own ‘ugly self,’ the one his words were forcing her to confront.
“D-don’t come closer! Stay back!”
“Sigh. Okhwa, my old friend. How far you’ve fallen. You, who once clung to extreme righteousness, have become warped by that very righteousness.”
“Shut up! Stop twisting my mind with your forked tongue!”
“The wicked one is your mind. Your shallow spirit, blocking you from reflecting on your mistakes—keeping you from remorse, from growth.”
“……!”
Lightning’s scolding reminded Okhwa of the Divine Monk.
Specifically, the words he’d once subtly offered her:
‘Is what you call justice truly just? You must always reflect.’
‘Justice and evil are separated by a thin line. One misstep, and you stray. Never forget that.’
She was terrified.
Of seeing the truth.
Of her convictions and justice crumbling.
So, once again, Okhwa averted her eyes.
To avoid seeing.
To live blindly in a false world.
But she overlooked one thing.
“I won’t step back like I usually do. I’m not in the mood.”
Unlike the usual Sword Saint, who would let her do as she pleased—
The current Sword Saint was on the verge of unleashing his rage.
“I’ll point out your delusions—clearly.”
“J-just stay back…! J-just take the blade like a good corpse…!”
“Even if you look away, I’ll force your head back. I’ll make you face it. I can’t stand the thought of you dying in self-righteous comfort.”
Boom—! Bang—!
Okhwa swung her arms wildly, as if deranged.
Thanks to years of training, her movements naturally flowed into Kunlun’s sword techniques—
Yet not a single strike landed on Lightning, who stood with his hands behind his back.
“Why hesitate? If you’re going to strike, strike. All you’re proving is your own ugliness.”
“Ugh……!”
Swish—! Swoosh—!
The sharp sounds of her blade filled the air. Her techniques escalated—from Taixu Dragon-Slaying Sword to Cold Plum Sword, even reaching the latter half of Two Forms Swordplay.
Still, nothing touched Lightning.
“Even your own conscience pricks at you.”
“Sh-shut up…! Just—just stop talking…! Why won’t you stop…!”
“At least you have a conscience… though it’s smaller than a shrimp’s brain. Too small to admit your mistakes. Pathetic.”
All the while, Lightning stepped closer until he stood right before her.
“…….”
“…….”
Without another word, Lightning simply watched her.
As if waiting to see what she would do.
“Ugh…….”
Under that overwhelming pressure, Okhwa tried to retreat—
Tap—
“……??”
A rough sensation against her back made her freeze.
Turning, she saw a tree blocking her path.
As if refusing to let her run any further.
Only then did she realize—Lightning had herded her here intentionally.
Pushed her to the edge where she could no longer escape, forcing her to face the truth.
“S-stop it….”
Her mind was in chaos.
He was the villain. She was the righteous one.
The absolute truth she had never doubted—though she had doubted it sometimes—
“I… I……”
Memories tangled, crushed under the weight of Lightning’s silent pressure.
“…No.”
It was a feeling as horrifying as the day her parents had died.
The feeling of being negated.
Of her life being denied, her very existence proven wrong before her eyes.
“No, no. I’m not wrong.”
Her mind was starting to recognize the truth, but her heart refused.
In the end, she ran again.
Running was what she did best.
Better than martial arts, better than slaying demons.
As a child, she ran from evil. As an adult, she ran from logic.
Even during the war, she’d always initiated debates with the Divine Monk—only to flee with excuses when proven wrong.
Those shameful memories now flooded her mind.
“I’m right. You’re wrong. That’s the truth.”
Her desperate insistence, shoving herself deeper into obsession to avoid collapse—
“You remind me of my past self.”
To Lightning, she overlapped with his old self.
Though the details differed.
“But… unlike me, you’re ugly.”
Lightning muttered with self-deprecation.
“Your stubbornness remains unshaken even after touching my dantian. Must I give up?”
His expression was bitter.
“Ugh… your poisonous tongue….”
Okhwa staggered backward into the darkness.
Lightning slowly began to accept reality.
An unwelcome one, but what choice did he have?
If Okhwa wouldn’t change—
“People really don’t change. And here I trusted the Divine Monk.”
A mix of irritation, towering rage, faint sorrow, a sliver of grief, overwhelming bitterness, and rising disillusionment—
All condensed into a quiet murmur.
Then—
– Tch, I can’t stand watching this bitch anymore.
‘Master? I thought you were resting.’
– Her nonsense is giving me a disease I didn’t even have. I can’t sleep—I’ll ascend from frustration at this rate.
‘What can we do?’
Jin Wu Yong’s irritated voice seeped into Lightning’s chest.
– I didn’t want to go this far, but I’ve got no choice. My blood pressure’s gonna kill me first at this rate.
‘…Huh? Master, what are you planning?’
– It might drain my spiritual energy to the point of vanishing, but…! Ugh, I can’t rest until I see this bitch repent.
‘……Master?’
– You handle the aftermath. I’ll just set the stage.
With that, Jin Wu Yong slid out of Lightning’s body.
Leaving his feet anchored to Lightning, he thrust his spectral head into Okhwa’s.
Their skulls overlapped.
Then, a voice—ancient, eccentric, and utterly unfamiliar—echoed in Okhwa’s mind.
– Aah, can you hear me?
‘Wh-who are you?! Reveal yourself! How dare you invade my mind uninvited! What sorcery is this?!’
– Skip the introductions. We’ll never meet again after this, so let’s get straight to the point.
‘Wh-what are you—GYAAAAAH-!!!’
A soundless scream filled Okhwa’s mind.
A memory was being forcibly transferred into her.
The pain was excruciating—like her brain was being crushed.
– Oho, it’s working. I’ve never tried this before, so I wasn’t sure—cough, cough! Damn, it’s sucking my energy dry.
Jin Wu Yong’s nonsense went unheard.
Even if Okhwa had heard, she wouldn’t have cared.
“……Huh?”
Amid the flood of memories—
“Wh-what… is this……?”
A bizarre scene played in her mind.
A scene she had never seen, never known—yet somehow recognized.
“……Sword… Saint…?”
The memory was short.
At most, two days’ worth—twenty-four hours in total.
A fragment.
A red-haired woman in crimson robes clutching her abdomen, fighting a gray-haired man.
The backdrop: winter, like now.
Crimson blood staining pure white snow.
A battle so fierce it overturned heaven and earth, the dark sky and bloodied ground flipping endlessly.
That was the memory.
“…….”
But why?
“That… day…?”
A scene she’d never witnessed—a scene she shouldn’t know.
“The day… he came to me…”
Yet she knew. No—she remembered.
The truth of that day.
The day the Sword Saint had come to her.
The day he had arrived spewing toxins and demonic energy, claiming he needed Kunlun’s healing—
“Ahh…….”
The scene was that day’s truth.
Every word the Sword Saint had said was true, down to the last syllable.
“Ah, ah, ahhh…….”
For Okhwa, it was the beginning of tragedy.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
[Your Text Here]
