Chapter 450

Chapter 450
### Chapter 450. The Definition of Justice (5)

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*Deul-deul-deul-deul-deul-deul-deul-deul.*

Heo Gwan-jung was shaking uncontrollably, resembling a leaf caught in a harsh wind. His countenance had gone completely bloodless, and he was powerless to halt the violent shuddering of his frame. Pure panic was mirrored in his wide eyes. The shock was so profound that he remained utterly oblivious to the crimson stream pouring from his severed digits. With each passing second, Heo Gwan-jung’s complexion grew increasingly ghostly.

‘H-How is this possible!’

The strategic breakdown of the Tae-eul Sect’s martial heritage had long been finalized. They were originally designated as a faction requiring extreme vigilance. Every detail concerning their recently unearthed ancestral texts had been thoroughly analyzed as well.

The combat styles displayed by Dong-ryong were indisputably the Small Heaven Sword Technique and the Great Heaven Sword Technique. Historically, these forms had been categorized as low-tier and mid-tier arts, respectively. Even when synthesized into the comprehensive Twin Heaven Sword Formula, they were graded only as high-tier, noticeably falling short when measured against truly legendary techniques. They simply should not have possessed the capacity to withstand the Eighteen Azure Claws.

That was the undeniable reality. It was supposed to be absolute…….

“Hmm…… it is quite remarkable.”

Suddenly, a crisp, untainted voice drifted down from just above him.

“Pardon me, but how exactly did you perform that move…… sir?”

“What?”

Flashing a radiant grin, Dong-ryong extended the flat of his palm.

“I was entirely under the impression that I would sever every single one of them.”

Resting there were the very fingers that had just generated the azure claw energy to claim countless lives.

“Which is why I am inquiring out of sheer curiosity…… sir.”

“…….”

The underlying logic eluded him completely. To voice such a dense query, this youth had to be nothing more than a slow-witted simpleton.

“……Is there a reason you are refusing to reply…… sir? I am even going out of my way to employ courteous language!!!”

Why, then, was his own flesh quivering so intensely? His lungs felt constricted beneath the suffocating weight of the murderous intent radiating alongside that glittering crimson aura. Quite apart from the unfathomable sword arts, the sheer intensity of this mysterious entity’s bloodlust made it impossible for him to even raise his eyes.

“W-What are you all waiting for! Eliminate this bastard immediately!!!”

Screaming in desperation, Heo Gwan-jung—who habitually looked down upon the senior Black Coffins—bellowed for assistance without thinking.

“…….”

The Black Coffins, having never encountered a situation of this nature, faltered in place, trading uncertain glances.

“Did you not hear me!”

“““We carry out your orders!”””

The secondary outburst from Heo Gwan-jung finally spurred them into action. Watching them advance, Dong-ryong wiped the cheerfulness from his expression and lunged forward, his blade reflecting a bloody glare.

*Beon-ddeuk—*

It was precisely the identical sword form that Geum-pyo and Jin So-un had previously unleashed.

*Seu-geok— seu-geok— seu-geok— seu-geok— seu-geok—*

When viewed from an outsider’s perspective rather than experiencing it firsthand, Dong-ryong’s execution of the art appeared remarkably ordinary.

‘Its velocity isn’t extraordinary.’

Fundamentally, the martial path of the Tae-eul Sect relied upon the intricate principles of Change and Illusion. In terms of pure swiftness, the Eighteen Azure Claws should never have lagged behind. Nonetheless, because the reaching distance of the blade surpassed that of bare fingers, the digits were sliced away before they could connect.

“Are you attempting to flee…… sir?”

With a cocked head and eyes gleaming with a crimson tint, his polite voice struck a discordant note against the surrounding carnage. Despite the Mosan Sect and the Tae-eul Sect being the ones cornered, a cold shiver ran down the spines of the opposing Black Coffins.

“Charge!”

At Heo Gwan-jung’s command, those who pushed forward converged in a synchronized offensive formation, striking at Dong-ryong from three separate angles. Facing the onslaught, Dong-ryong.

‘W-What is he doing?’

Swiveled completely, presenting his undefended back right where he stood. A split second before the weapons of the Black Coffins could pierce his flesh.

*Hwa-woo-ook—*

Harnessing the momentum of his spin, he swept the Black Dragon Sword through the air as if cleaving the very atmosphere.

“W-What……?”

“Huh?”

*Swaaaa-eaek—*

Concurrently with the whistling sound of parted air, three severed heads of the Black Coffins hit the ground with dull thuds. The headless torsos, propelled by their remaining momentum, stumbled a few paces before collapsing onto the earth, spraying crimson fluid across the clearing.

“A-A rapid blade?”

Heo Gwan-jung’s jaw dropped in disbelief. A high-speed sword style was supposed to be an impossibility for someone like Dong-ryong, who wielded a weapon poorly suited to his physical stature. Yet, utilizing a bizarre and completely unprecedented methodology, Dong-ryong had managed to execute a lightning-fast strike with the Black Dragon Sword, an instrument far too massive and weighty for his frame.

‘A swift strike…… achieved through such means?’

The anomalies did not end there. While leaping into the air allowed a combatant to seize high ground, it usually came with the disadvantage of restricted maneuverability mid-flight.

*Ta-tak—*

Regardless, Dong-ryong vaulted skyward without a shred of doubt, ascending past his adversaries. Drawing his limbs tightly inward to concentrate his downward force, he crashed down upon his foe.

*Kwang!*

With a concussive force characteristic of an immensely heavy weapon, he shattered the opponent’s guard. Even those who managed to withstand the physical impact vomited blood, their internal pathways severely jarred. The moment his feet touched the earth, his weapon was in motion again without a heartbeat’s delay. As if the foundational tenets of Change and Illusion within the Small and Great Heaven Sword Techniques were mere ornaments, his blade traveled along the most direct trajectories imaginable. Stripping away all superfluous posturing, he dominated his adversaries using only the barest fragments of Change and Illusion.

Like a young toddler trifling with an insignificant insect, or a child playing with a spirited pup, Dong-ryong shifted perpetually. With every stride he took, the Black Coffins collapsed to the earth like marionettes whose strings had been cleanly severed.

“You have no intention of running away, correct…… sir?”

The stiff, overly formal diction spread a freezing chill through the atmosphere. Having already slaughtered all eight of the Black Coffins, Dong-ryong revealed his open palm and prepared to close the distance toward Heo Gwan-jung.

“Hieeek!”

Just as Heo Gwan-jung shielded his skull, overwhelmed by a terrifying pressure unlike anything he had ever known.

“Good grief!!”

Geum-pyo, arriving on the scene after dispatching the remaining Black Coffins, seized Dong-ryong’s wrist in absolute dismay.

“W-What on earth is this!!! Disgusting!!!”

With a sharp jerk from Geum-pyo, the dismembered digits clutched in Dong-ryong’s hand scattered across the dirt.

“Lee Dong-ryong!! I explicitly ordered you to stop playing with such filthy objects (?)!”

“Eh? But it doesn’t seem dirty at all…….”

Lacking the luxury to even process his own indignation, Heo Gwan-jung scanned the area for the contingent that was supposed to be suppressing Geum-pyo. However, the warriors he located were largely reduced to broken corpses littered across the ground, their chests caved in or their skulls shattered.

‘When did this transpire!’

Furthermore, the reinforcements that should have arrived to bolster their numbers were nowhere to be found. It was evident that disaster had struck that sector as well, courtesy of Jin So-un, who had charged directly into the heart of the tactical layout.

‘……Curse it all.’

Heo Gwan-jung faced a critical dilemma. He could either engage the Gold and Bronze siblings—who were currently occupied with cleaning the younger one’s hand on his attire—and attempt to rescue the remaining Black Coffins, or alternatively…….

“*Hyung*, hold on a moment, I need to speak with that individual.”

“What business could you possibly have! I specifically told you to keep away from things like—”

“That individual is a wicked person.”

The exasperated expression of Geum-pyo, who had been lecturing his brother, instantly turned ice-cold.

“I am well aware. Consequently, I have no intention of giving him a swift demise. That bastard is the commander of this unit.”

Instantly, a ferocious torrent of combat aura erupted from Geum-pyo’s form. His breathing constricted once more, prompting Heo Gwan-jung to make his final choice.

“Do not presume for a moment that this is your victory!”

“Do you honestly believe escape is an option?”

Geum-pyo and Dong-ryong flawlessly cut off Heo Gwan-jung’s avenues of retreat in unison. The encirclement left absolutely no room for exploit. In that exact instant.

“Uh-oh!”
“Oh?”

Heo Gwan-jung threw his weight directly into the active formation array without a second thought.

“……The man has lost his mind.”

From within the dense, swirling vapors of the formation, Heo Gwan-jung’s venomous declaration echoed out.

“I shall return to exact my vengeance!”

Reflecting upon it now, a monumental query persists that has never found an explanation. Why was it specifically Yong So-ah?

Throughout the grand chronicle of the Jianghu, innumerable prodigies emerged. They asserted their presence, validated their prowess, engraved their legends into the annals of time, and frequently withered away prematurely or walked the path of betrayal. Every era and every moment bore witness to a magnificent prodigy, just as every period possessed its own ultimate sovereign.

Yet Yong So-ah existed entirely outside the boundaries of time and era, appearing as a being who had detached himself from the laws governing this mortal realm. It held true during his days in Wudang, during his initial emergence into the wider Jianghu, during his tenure as a renowned prodigy, through his middle years, and even after he assumed the mantle of the Martial Alliance Leader.

His journey was not the typical path of a gifted individual gathering expertise, being refined by the passage of years, and progressively climbing to the pinnacle of martial dominance. Even during his periods of relative immaturity, his supremacy was universally acknowledged, and no ultimate master could ever look down upon Yong So-ah.

It was an era when exceptional young geniuses emerged across the lands in such numbers that it was hailed as the ‘War of the Stars.’ Yet amidst that galaxy of talent, Yong So-ah remained completely peerless. Il-myeong, celebrated as the most profound prodigy in the history of Shaolin, found himself entirely obscured by Yong So-ah’s shadow. Similarly, Dang Seo-hui, who shattered the ancient taboos of the Dang Clan, was unable to distinguish herself.

The same fate befell Il-gak, who mastered the Muscle-Tendon Transformation Classic, alongside Hwa Jeong-san of Hwasan and Namgung San of the Namgung Clan. A multitude of brilliant masters were utterly eclipsed by the singular reputation of Yong So-ah.

During my previous existence when I amounted to nothing, I simply accepted this reality without question. But looking back, the scenario defies all rationality. Every mortal possesses inherent flaws alongside their virtues. A supreme entity capable of outmatching every opponent in every imaginable discipline is a statistical impossibility, akin to the mythical Black Tortoise or the legendary Dragon.

The apex masters of a century past and the prodigies of half a millennium ago lose all their luster when measured against Yong So-ah. He earned the deference of those who initially dismissed him and inspired terror in those who recognized his worth. He stood perpetually at the vanguard of any era or setting, a figure inherently incapable of suffering defeat regardless of the arena.

The Ultimate.

A man who single-handedly defied the immutable truth that no absolute entity could exist in a Jianghu governed by endless uncertainty. By what method, by what means could he achieve such a feat?

*Chaeng-gang—*

I lashed out with the Red Light Sword. The Whirlwind Sword veered clear of my trajectory and plunged toward a critical opening.

*Seu-geok—*

In desperation, I wrenched my weapon back to parry. After executing a shallow thrust to the vital point, the Whirlwind Sword smoothly transitioned to slice across my shoulder.

*Seu-geok—*

When I attempted to create separation utilizing the Great Heaven Sword Technique, he closed the gap instantly, unleashing the intricacies of the Yin-Yang Boxing.

*Pang!*

As though he possessed prior knowledge of my intentions, his offensive and defensive maneuvers were perfectly calibrated to counter my next movements. The transitions were as seamless and effortless as breathing.

“Did you disregard my warnings merely to bring about this pathetic outcome?”

The tone was gratingly detached. I chose not to waste breath replying. In truth, I lacked the capacity to formulate an answer. If my concentration wavered for even a fraction of a second, the minor abrasions accumulating across my flesh would escalate into a fatal, catastrophic wound.

Furthermore, the reason this normally stoic individual was engaging in such uncharacteristic mockery was clear.

‘Gu Song-baek.’

His true objective was glaringly apparent.

*Taeng—*

Using the Predator Gauntlet, I intercepted the Whirlwind Sword as it sought to disembowel me. A momentary flash of astonishment crossed his normally impassive features.

“……So it was this device?”

The adversary muttered to himself, his underlying meaning obscure. Recognizing what the bastard was truly after, I could not afford to let this confrontation drag on. Moreover.

“Keueueueue……”

Yu Ji-ryang, who was straining to prevent the Soul-Destroying Formation from locking down entirely, appeared to be reaching the absolute limit of his endurance. Under these parameters, victory was a mathematical impossibility. Martial combat is ultimately a calculation of variables. What prospects of success remain when your entire arsenal has been laid bare to the foe?

‘If that is the case.’

I had to shift the parameters to an exchange that bypassed conventional tactics. I violently accelerated the circulation of my internal energy.

*Cheok—*

Sensing the shift, Yong So-ah, who had been maintaining a relentless assault, glided back a single step and raised the Flowing Cloud Sword. It was as though he foresaw the exact nature of the strike I was preparing to unleash—

‘Confound it…….’

I summoned a colossal reservoir of inner strength, causing a vibrant sword-force (*Geom-gang*) to erupt along the blade. Mirroring the turbulence of my spirit, a crimson radiance infused with a malevolent aura spread outward from the Red Light Sword.

*Kwang!*

Coinciding with the initial detonation.

*Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-khwang!*

A relentless barrage of shockwaves bombarded Yong So-ah with terrifying velocity. The cataclysmic force tore the topsoil away and disrupted the shifting vapors of the formation array. The immediate vicinity dissolved into a chaotic haze of dust and vapor. Everything caught within the trajectory of that devastating assault was obliterated.

“Jin So-un……”

And then.

“I shall dispose of you before all else.”

The gaze of the man, completely stripped of his former detachment, locked onto me with absolute focus.

Why did even the most elite masters bow to the supremacy of Yong So-ah? Why was he viewed as an entity existing beyond the constraints of generations? His unparalleled perception, combined with the core tenets of his lineage—Succeeding by Striking Later and Softness Overcoming Strength—granted an absolute potency to the innate gifts bestowed upon him by providence. Regardless of his current cultivation tier or the caliber of the master he confronted, he was fundamentally immune to a one-sided defeat. In a sense, it was inevitable that such an individual would evolve into a presence that transcended the ages.

“Fuuuuuuuck……”

I could only watch in numbed paralysis as the Taiji Wisdom Sword plunged directly toward my chest. Instantly, I raised the Predator Gauntlet to intercept the strike, but the supernatural precision of the Taiji Wisdom Sword deflected off the Predator Gauntlet, using the impact as a pivot to accelerate directly toward my throat.

Had even this sequence been calculated from the start? Like a chess piece caught in an inescapable checkmate, I bore witness to the unfolding choreography of my own demise. Just as the crushing realization that I had walked entirely into his trap settled over me.

*Jji-ji-ji-ji-ji-jik—*

Accompanied by a concussive peal of thunder, a bolt of blinding radiance struck Yong So-ah squarely.

‘What?’

Before my mind could process the sudden intervention.

*Jji-ji-ji-chi-chi-jik—*

A rapid succession of lightning strikes erupted from the rear, descending upon Yong So-ah.

*Jji-ji-ji-ji-jik—*

The instant the third discharge detonated, Yong So-ah displaced his position with phantasmal speed.

“Desist. Yong So-ah.”

The figure who had intercepted the strike intended for me was none other than Namgung San.

“…….”

The circumstances that brought him to this location alongside Yong So-ah eluded me entirely, but my immediate course of action was absolute.

*Tak—*

“You……”

To seize Gu Song-baek and retreat immediately.

*Swaaaa-eaek—*

I sprinted forward, executing the swiftest movement my body had ever achieved.

“…….”
“…….”

Following Jin So-un’s tempestuous departure, a tense silence settled between Yong So-ah and Namgung San. While Namgung San, who had intervened with grim resolve, found the reality of Jin So-un’s abrupt flight somewhat jarring, he maintained a rigid composure.

The reality that the Mosan Sect had been targeted for total eradication was profoundly unsettling on its own, and the unexpected involvement of Jin So-un from the Tae-eul Sect compounded the gravity of the situation. This entire operation was an enterprise that should never have been set in motion. Turning his gaze away from where Jin So-un and Gu Song-baek had vanished, Yong So-ah inquired flatly.

“What prompted your interference?”

“I remain unconvinced of the necessity.”

Yong So-ah’s brow twitched with irritation.

“Your choices have effectively condemned a vast number of martial artists to their graves.”

“……Are you absolutely certain of the validity of your observations?”

The disciples of the Mosan Sect had maintained their allegiance to the Martial Alliance until their final breaths, steadfast in their conviction that the leadership would never betray them. Namgung San had witnessed that tragic innocence firsthand. Consequently, regardless of what Yong So-ah claimed to have discerned—nay, as long as the true nature of his discoveries remained unverified—he could not blindly offer his compliance.

“If they truly harbored sinister allegiances, whether to the Blood Cult or the Demonic Cult…… they would scarcely have met their end in such a defenseless fashion, would they?”

“…….”

“Disclose exactly what it was that you witnessed!”

Yong So-ah’s impassive eyes darkened considerably. These were two individuals operating on entirely different tiers of comprehension, each fully convinced of the absolute truth of their own perception. Throughout his entire existence, Yong So-ah had navigated a path defined by this fundamental divergence in vision.

Yong So-ah carefully weighed his response. In what manner could he convey the reality to him? How could he describe Gu Song-baek, a remnant of the Demonic Cult whose solitary remaining eye burned with a sinister crimson light, as he transformed hundreds of righteous warriors of the White Path into slavering madmen?