Chapter 602

**Chapter 602. The Lazy Solves (2)**

Chasing isn’t a big deal.

The truth is, fights between martial artists are often too idealized, right? Two swordsmen cross their blades; one falls, the other survives.

The defeated praises his opponent, saying it was a battle without regrets, while the victor mourns his death.

Right?

What nonsense.

Where’s the romance when one man kills another? On the verge of death, am I supposed to marvel at my killer’s skills and acknowledge his worth?

What utter stupidity!

I don’t know.

Maybe such a world existed at some point. But the one I’ve seen has none of that. The dying cling to life with their nails and teeth, and the survivors stab their swords into the backs of the fallen to avoid any future risks.

The same applies to chases.

When a battle drags on, those who are losing run away.

Huh? Whether a hero of the river and lake can do that?

Hey, you crazy bastard! If you don’t, you’re dead. What do the rules of the martial world matter then?

Those who preach those virtues are also insane.

No, I mean, it’s the plain truth.

Is being weak a crime?

Besides, isn’t weakness relative? If that guy has trained his martial arts for thirty years and I’ve only been at it for ten, wouldn’t it be stranger if I won?

That’s why “the strongest wins” is a blatant lie. Who wins or loses against whom depends on the luck of the moment.

In the middle of a war, it’s even worse.

Damn it! If in the middle of a war I have to face an eighty-year-old veteran who cuts me in two, while next to me there’s another weaker than me who wins because he got a newbie who just picked up a sword…

Does that mean I die because of a lack of skill?

At least say something that makes sense!

What?

Don’t get upset?

Do I look calm now?

*Ahem, ahem.*

Anyway!

If in the middle of a fight you see that the situation is getting ugly and your head is on the line, you run without looking back.

What? If you’re losing in skill, also in speed?

Generally, yes. But not always. If a master faces a novice, obviously. But if the difference isn’t abysmal, depending on individual characteristics, the weaker one might be faster.

And getting stabbed in the back while running away is still better than standing still and getting your neck cut.

Since many escape, those with some experience in fights usually have some experience in chases as well.

What? Disappointment?

What nonsense are you saying.

If I’m about to die, what does dignity matter? I sell my pride and run like never before.

Huh?

Why am I telling you this?

*Heh, heh, heh.*

They didn’t know.

Those from **Baekgeom Fortress** hid from the world and trained like crazy.

Obviously, they have almost no experience in that.

So they didn’t know.

They didn’t know what it’s like to feel a tiger chasing you from behind.

An overwhelmingly superior opponent. Someone much faster than you, whom you turn your back on to flee…

That’s suicide.

But they didn’t know. So they deserved it.

/***(Centered)***

—Haa! Haa! Haa!

His breath reached his throat.

His legs trembled and his stomach contracted. For a while now, he had felt a stabbing pain in his side, as if he were being stabbed.

—*I can’t stop.*

If he stopped now, exhaustion would kill him. The warning and the instinct that stopping meant death fought fiercely in his mind.

Not knowing what to do, his legs kept running by inertia. Little by little, he lost sensitivity. The perception of the ground under his feet became blurred. It was like running in the middle of a torrent.

—*It’s coming! It’s coming!*

BOOM!

A rumble erupted behind him.

His body shrank. As soon as the sound reached his ears, a scorching wind whipped the back of his neck.

—*Damn it.*

How had it come to this?

They were the **Baekgeom Fortress**. And the **Great Family of the Infinity Sword**. After waiting countless years, when they finally pointed their swords towards the **Central Plains**, they were sure of their superiority. And it wasn’t arrogance.

They had prepared for it.

There wasn’t a single day without training. It wasn’t just effort. They learned the best martial arts in the world, from the best masters in the world.

They were strong.

Objectively, the **Baekgeom Fortress** was powerful.

Just with what they showed to the outside, they could already occupy the last place among the **Three Great Forces of the World**. But their hidden power doubled that.

Excepting the **Demon Cult**, there wasn’t a force in the world that could face them alone. How could they not feel proud?

Until they defeated the **Righteous Martial Alliance** and killed that hateful **Supreme Sovereign**, they never doubted that everything would follow their plan.

No one could stop them.

Now they understood: they knew nothing.

They understood why in the martial world prodigies were infinite, and why, when someone fell, another took their place.

They thought that after knocking down the colossus **Supreme Sovereign**, it would take a long time before another tree grew in its place.

But who would have imagined that, instead of another tree, a monster would occupy that space?

A monster.

Yes, a monster.

There was no other way to describe it.

A monster that not only stopped the **Baekgeom Fortress** —something that neither **Mount Hua**, the **Wudang Sect** nor the **Righteous Martial Alliance** achieved—, but made them flee.

And now that monster was chasing him.

Actually, he was chasing the entire **Baekgeom Fortress**, including him.

One by one, they fell.

The monster wasn’t in a hurry.

At first, he thought the casualties were few. Considering his power, the monster could have charged like a madman and beheaded several with a single blow. But he didn’t.

So he assumed the monster was slow.

A giant bear isn’t necessarily faster than a rabbit.

And he harbored hope. If he ran a little more, if he managed to reunite with the main group, everything would improve.

But now he knew it was a mistake.

—*Damn bastard!*

It’s not that he couldn’t run fast. It’s that he didn’t want to.

Now he understood.

The number of dead was already countless.

If the monster had chased them from the beginning with that terrifying speed and had beheaded them all, what would have happened?

They would have collapsed.

They would have abandoned their formations and fled in all directions. Although there would be more casualties, more would have survived. Because not even a monster can be in ten places at once.

But the monster didn’t.

He followed at a constant pace, eliminating only the stragglers.

Thus, no one thought of anything other than running forward.

Because there was hope: if they ran enough, if they didn’t fall behind, they would live.

And the result was this.

—Ugh! Agh!

He ran with all his might.

He had no choice. He knew too well what the rumble of a moment ago meant.

Those behind him had fallen.

Which meant…

—*I’m the last one.*

He never thought he would regret being slow in the **art of lightness**. He should have listened to his instructor: “Every martial art begins with the feet.”

—*Move! Move!*

He felt his legs getting heavier and heavier. Sensitivity had disappeared a long time ago. Even so, his legs, which had responded until now, were slowing down.

The landscape that used to pass like a blur was beginning to define itself.

Was it because his eyesight was improving?

Impossible.

He was slowing down.

And if he slowed down, the monster chasing him would get closer.

—Haa! Haa! Haa!

He had to run. Run as if his life depended on it. Only then…

—Do you think you can escape?

A whisper.

But to his ears, it was more thunderous than thunder.

His legs no longer responded. He stopped dead in his tracks.

—Haa… Haa…

He inhaled and exhaled with force.

His legs trembled, but not from fear. He simply had no energy left.

Slowly, he turned his head.

His eyes met those of the one behind him.

—…

What could he say?

That being…

His still youthful face, save for an air of determination, didn’t differ much from that of any ordinary young man in the market.

He didn’t have six arms or three heads.

But he was a monster, without a doubt.

Especially because…

*Drip.*

The blood that fell from his hair, that stained his face, that soaked his body… confirmed it.

A wolf, in appearance, doesn’t differ much from a dog.

But if that wolf is devouring the entrails of a man and its snout is covered in blood, who would compare it to a dog?

This one was the same.

His appearance didn’t differ from that of any other young man. But he had gutted the giant **Baekgeom Fortress** and devoured its entrails.

How could you not call him a monster?

*Tremble.*

His hands tightened.

Perhaps out of the pride of a swordsman, he couldn’t drop his sword.

Should he resist, even if it was useless? Even if nothing would change?

—*I…*

He gritted his teeth.

And unsheathed.

The blade traced a perfect line.

He could assure it:

This was the best cut of his life.

Without thoughts, without ambition.

Not even the idea of ​​wielding the sword with force. There was no intention of achieving anything. Only the instinct of a swordsman moving his blade.

Paradoxically, by abandoning all intention, he achieved the perfect cut.

*Schlik.*

At the same time, a strange sound, which he had never heard before, resonated in his throat.

Although he had never heard it, it was not difficult to deduce its origin. The loss of strength in his sword and the blurred vision were sufficient clues.

The monster looked at him with a peculiar smile.

—Good cut.

Should he be happy?

That his last attack had been recognized by the monster brought him a faint satisfaction.

A disjointed smile appeared on his face.

*Plaf.*

The ground and the monster’s feet came into his field of vision. Feeling how it darkened, he didn’t try to cling to his consciousness. Everything was useless.

—Have sweet dreams.

Despite his grotesque appearance, the monster’s voice was surprisingly soft.

With a final snort of disdain, the man lost consciousness.