Chapter 210

“Bullshit!”

Shwiak!

Jang Mu-yeon swung his sword.

In that instant, his sword split into seven, aiming for Pyo Wol’s vital points.

Seven Sword Phantom Kill.

It was the Ultimate Technique of the Golden Dragon Tyrant Sword he had mastered.

Of the seven swords, only one was real. The rest were mere phantoms. However, imbued with formless energy, they possessed a power no different from the real thing.

A large tree was sliced into seven pieces and fell before the Seven Sword Phantom Kill. But the intended target, Pyo Wol, was nowhere to be seen.

He had already escaped using his Serpentine Steps.

“How long are you going to keep running away like a coward?”

Jang Mu-yeon roared and chased after Pyo Wol.

He continuously unleashed the Ultimate Techniques of the Golden Dragon Tyrant Sword. Each time, large trees were cut down, and boulders the size of houses were pierced with holes the size of Copper Coins.

The Golden Dragon Tyrant Sword was the representative Sword Art of the Righteous Sword Manor, possessing truly formidable power.

Since mastering the Golden Dragon Tyrant Sword, Jang Mu-yeon had never once experienced defeat.

He had no doubt that he would be victorious this time as well.

Although Pyo Wol was a formidable Assassin, he was confident that now that he had revealed himself, the advantage was his.

Shwaaak!

His sword continuously spewed forth terrifying Sword Qi.

Each time, the surrounding area was devastated.

Jang Mu-yeon was truly giving it his all.

He had realized that this was not an opponent he could defeat by conserving his Internal Energy.

He judged that rather than aiming for a prolonged battle, it was better to go all out and settle the match in the shortest time possible.

The Sword Qi imbued in his sword grew sharper and more intense.

He continuously unleashed the Ultimate Techniques of the Golden Dragon Tyrant Sword. But his Sword Stances missed Pyo Wol by a hair’s breadth.

It felt like he could reach him if he just extended his hand a little further.

It felt like he could dismember Pyo Wol’s body if he drew out his Sword Qi more intensely.

Just a little more…

Pyo Wol’s form, seemingly within reach yet untouchable, was like a Mirage.

But Jang Mu-yeon, his mind solely focused on Pyo Wol, failed to realize this fact.

He had fallen into the Devil’s Hell.

Pyo Wol had drawn Jang Mu-yeon into his own flow.

He intended to wear Jang Mu-yeon down to his death within the antlion pit he had created.

Shwiak!

Jang Mu-yeon’s sword grazed past him by a hair’s breadth.

It was a mere paper-thin difference.

Had he been even a fraction of a second late in dodging, Pyo Wol would no longer be of this world.

It was a skill possible only with a sense to accurately gauge the distance between oneself and the opponent, and the rationality to face even one’s own death with cold composure.

The Devil’s Hell was something an ordinary person could never execute, even if taught.

“Hah, hah!”

Jang Mu-yeon’s breathing became noticeably rough, and his face was flushed red as if it would burst.

He too felt that something was wrong. But he had come too far to stop now.

Even if he were to retreat now, Pyo Wol would not let him go obediently, and above all, his father would not forgive him for returning with nothing to show for it.

He had to settle this here, whether he lived or died.

“Hyaaat!”

Jang Mu-yeon focused all his remaining Internal Power into his sword. A faint image of a golden Dragon then formed on his blade.

Golden Dragon Demonic Phantom Kill.

It was the ultimate of the Ultimate Techniques of the Golden Dragon Tyrant Sword.

Although he had not perfected it, its power surpassed all other Sword Stances.

Shwaaak!

As Jang Mu-yeon unleashed the Golden Dragon Demonic Phantom Kill, the faint Dragon-shaped Sword Qi on his blade flew towards Pyo Wol.

It was truly astonishing that he could create such a Dragon shape from a mass of Sword Qi.

It was also incredible that he could launch the Sword Qi he had created.

If the Martial Artists of Jianghu were to see this, they would all be unable to hold back their admiration.

It was a skill not commonly seen in Jianghu.

But in Pyo Wol’s eyes, all of this seemed like a useless waste of energy.

Jang Mu-yeon had certainly learned a formidable Supreme Art.

His Sword Stances were flashy and their power was extreme. To properly execute such Sword Stances, conservation of Internal Power and delicate control were necessary, but Jang Mu-yeon was sorely lacking in that area.

It was a side effect of having his Internal Energy boosted with Spirit Medicine since he was young. Having never experienced a lack of Internal Energy, he had no reason to worry about delicate control or the conservation of energy.

As a result, Jang Mu-yeon never learned how to conserve his Internal Power.

After continuously executing strenuous Sword Stances at full power, his seemingly limitless Internal Energy was finally hitting rock bottom.

The Golden Dragon Demonic Phantom Kill he had just unleashed was the last attack he could muster.

Jang Mu-yeon hoped to end Pyo Wol’s life with this one move.

He truly had no Internal Power left.

Ssssuuu!

But contrary to his expectations, the Golden Dragon Demonic Phantom Kill failed to even graze Pyo Wol’s body. Pyo Wol had already moved using Black Lightning.

Moving in an instant like a black flash of lightning, Pyo Wol reappeared right in front of Jang Mu-yeon.

“Ugh!”

A pained groan escaped Jang Mu-yeon’s lips.

A subtle fear was etched on his once-confident face.

The arrogant expression he had when he first saw Pyo Wol was long gone.

Pyo Wol smelled the scent of fear on him.

Like the Martial Artists who had died before him, Jang Mu-yeon too was feeling dread and emitting the scent of fear.

He pretended to be superior to others, to be great, but he was no different from anyone else.

Once the powerful Martial Arts and the background of the Righteous Sword Manor that had made him superior were gone, he was just like an ordinary person.

Jang Mu-yeon was not a strong person.

His essence was not so different from that of other people.

Just like most of the people who had died at Pyo Wol’s hands.

The Ghostly Rain was now in Pyo Wol’s hand.

Jang Mu-yeon shouted in a desperate struggle.

“If you kill me, the Righteous Sword Manor will not stand by. It’s not too late. If you hand over the Gongpo Sword to me…”

Puk!

Jang Mu-yeon could not finish his sentence.

The Ghostly Rain, held in a reverse grip, pierced through his jaw and penetrated his brain.

Like an insect skewered on a needle, Jang Mu-yeon’s body convulsed before collapsing.

Pyo Wol retrieved the Ghostly Rain embedded in Jang Mu-yeon’s jaw.

Despite having killed over twenty people, not a single drop of sweat flowed on Pyo Wol’s entire body.

As an Assassin, Pyo Wol had already reached the highest realm.

He was more or less complete, both physically and mentally.

Of course, there was still room for improvement, but it was also a fact that he had stepped into the ranks of Jianghu’s absolute top tier.

Pyo Wol had confidence in himself.

The fight with Jang Mu-yeon and the White Tiger Sword Unit was a process of confirming himself, not a fierce battle where he risked his life.

Pyo Wol briefly looked at Jang Mu-yeon’s corpse.

His wide-open eyes seemed to still have much to say. But the dead can no longer say anything, nor can they have any influence on the world.

When you die, everything ends.

So, one had to survive.

Only those who survived to the very end could make their voices heard.

Pyo Wol turned his head and looked to the opposite side.

It was where Soma and the first squad of the White Tiger Sword Unit were fighting.

The battle there should be ending soon as well.

Pyo Wol trusted Soma.

Knowing Soma’s abilities, he wasn’t worried. But Pyo Wol’s expression gradually grew serious.

Kwa-reung!

Suddenly, the sound of Thunder and Lightning exploding echoed from the other side of the forest.

＊＊＊

Jo Yeong-shin’s entire body was stained red with blood.

It was a mixture of his own blood and the blood shed by his Subordinates.

Around Jo Yeong-shin, the Martial Artists of the first squad lay scattered.

Their bodies had wounds gaping open like the gills of a fish. They were wounds made by Soma’s Seven Deadly Wheels.

Although he held the Gongpo Sword in his hand, what he was more familiar with were the Seven Deadly Wheels he had used for a long time. That was why he ended up using the Seven Deadly Wheels rather than the Gongpo Sword when taking the lives of the White Tiger Sword Unit.

“You demonic fiend!”

Jo Yeong-shin glared at Soma, gritting his teeth.

Soma was a demon in the form of a child.

He couldn’t even imagine how many people had lost their lives unjustly, deceived by that innocent-looking appearance.

“As I thought, wheels are still more comfortable than a sword.”

Soma swung the Gongpo Sword around with an innocent face.

Even that gesture looked hypocritical.

“For the sake of Jianghu, I will make sure to kill you, no matter what.”

“Are you stupid, big bro?”

“What?”

“Who would believe you if someone like you says it’s for the sake of Jianghu? Why not just be honest? Hehe!”

Soma’s ridicule made Jo Yeong-shin lose his reason.

Jo Yeong-shin could no longer hold back and rushed at Soma.

“Chaaat!”

The Ultimate Technique he unleashed with all his might split the darkness. But unfortunately, his Sword Stance failed to reach Soma’s body.

Soma had already leaped back and dodged it.

Soma, who had crouched his body low like a cat, charged forward again at a terrifying speed.

The Gongpo Sword in his hand was aimed precisely at Jo Yeong-shin’s vital points. Jo Yeong-shin no longer had the leeway to dodge Soma’s attack.

Sgaaak!

The Gongpo Sword in Soma’s hand sliced through his chest.

Jo Yeong-shin collapsed, scattering blood.

The last thing he saw in the final moment of his life was the sight of Soma, rejoicing with the Gongpo Sword in hand.

‘Little demon, your end will not be a good one either…’

That was Jo Yeong-shin’s last thought.

Thud!

Jo Yeong-shin laid his body on the cold earth.

Facing ten Martial Artists had left Soma with quite a few wounds on his body. But Soma paid no mind to such wounds.

He was inured to pain.

At the Small Thunder Sound Temple, he experienced this level of pain every day.

Thanks to that, his personality had become this peculiar, but it was of considerable help in surviving.

Soma couldn’t help but admire the sharpness of the Gongpo Sword.

Even setting aside its property of easily accepting Internal Power, its hardness and sharpness alone were enough for it to be ranked among the famous swords of All Under Heaven.

Soma really liked the Gongpo Sword.

He felt its appearance and sharpness, different from other swords, were just like him.

It was when Soma was completely engrossed in the Gongpo Sword.

“That sword looks good. May I have a look?”

Suddenly, a gruff voice came from behind him.

Soma turned around in surprise.

There stood an old man who resembled a wolf.

Matted gray hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in who knows how long, and a long beard that covered his chest. A gray Martial arts uniform that looked like it had been patched dozens of times. Unusually, he carried six swords on his back.

He looked no different from a beggar one might see on the streets, but Soma saw the image of a wolf in his fierce eyes.

It was as if a giant wolf, having lost its entire family and wandering the wilderness, was growling at him.

Soma unknowingly hid the Gongpo Sword behind his back and shook his head.

“No!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s mine.”

“Then was that sword yours from the beginning?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Things have their rightful owners. From what I see, you don’t seem ready to handle that sword yet. You’d be better off entrusting it to me. I’ll return it to you later when you’re older.”

The old man extended his hand and approached Soma.

At his unhesitating demeanor, Soma’s expression contorted.

This was Soma, who hadn’t been afraid of Jo Yeong-shin and the Martial Artists of the White Tiger Sword Unit.

He had even managed to strike them all down after sustaining numerous injuries. Yet that same Soma was now faltering backward, pushed back by the old man’s presence.

He had instinctively realized that the old man before him was no ordinary person.

It was an unpleasant, nauseating feeling.

Perhaps the foul, gamey smell emanating from the old man was what had provoked him.

Soma had experienced numerous monstrous and evil monks while at the Small Thunder Sound Temple. But none of them had given him the same sense of discomfort as the old man before him.

Brrr!

The presence emanating from the old man was so dreadful that he shivered involuntarily.

“W-who are you, grandpa?”

“Me? They call me Gu Jin-wang. Haven’t you heard of me?”

“No!”

“Really? I thought it was a pretty famous name in Jianghu. I guess not.”

The old man made a disappointed face. But the menacing glint in his eyes as he looked at Soma remained.

His eyes were fixed precisely on the Gongpo Sword that Soma was holding.

Its bizarre shape, unseen in the current Jianghu, was stimulating his greed.

Once he coveted an item, he had to have it in his hands to be satisfied.

His tenacious nature, which, like a wolf, never let go once it bit down, had made him the Wolf King, one of the Eight Constellations.