Chapter 455

Chapter 455
Chapter 455. Seeds of Evil (3)

—

The members of the Mosan Sect fled in utter desperation. They dashed forward, their feet pounding against the ground as they frantically brandished their blades. Because their order rarely engaged in actual warfare, some disciples were taking a life for the very first time. Yet, there was no opportunity to grieve or sink into the oppressive remorse of their initial kill. The brutal Black Coffins were in the midst of executing an unmerciful massacre.

“Aaargh!”
“Gah!”

Agonizing shrieks filled the air, sounds they had never encountered before in their existences, followed swiftly by an abrupt stillness. It was impossible not to envision the lifeless eyes of their fallen comrades. Realizing another brother-in-arms had perished, they bit down hard on their lips until they practically crushed them, driving their weapons forward once more.

*Clang!*

The sheer impact reverberating through the blade was immense. They struggled with all their might to deflect the incoming strike, but a moment later, a swift thrust from a different Black Coffin pierced straight through their midsection.

“Ugh…”

As the vitality drained completely from their frame, they collapsed onto the earth. Even in that final breath, the fallen warrior kept his gaze locked entirely onto the Geon-cheong Hall.

“I beg of you…”

Whispering a desperate, silent prayer, the light completely faded from his eyes.

“Leave none alive!”

“They have dabbled in taboo magic. Wipe them out!”

The Black Coffins roared as they tore through the Eight Directions Stone Heaven Gold Lock Formation. The anguished cries of the Mosan Sect disciples resonated from every corner.

*Tremble, tremble.*

Ok Hwa-jeong remained stationary behind the barrier of the Eight Directions Stone Heaven Gold Lock Formation, gripping her blade. Though she possessed basic martial training, she lacked any real battlefield experience; the horrific screams echoing from beyond the partition left her completely paralyzed with fear.

*Aaargh!*

Hearing that ghastly shriek pierce her ears, she finally gritted her teeth so hard that blood began to seep out. If she failed to act now, the younger disciples under her care would endure this exact same torment. It was a terrifying reality unfolding right before her, causing her entire frame to shudder. However, the thought of her juniors suffering that same fate instantly overrode her paralyzing dread.

*Grit.*

Steeling her resolve, she advanced a step, tracking the pathway of the Eight Directions Stone Heaven Gold Lock Formation. Through the gap in the wall, a Black Coffin came into view.

*Gulp.*

Ok Hwa-jeong held her breath entirely, waiting silently for the enemy to pass by her position. The moment the cautious Black Coffin crossed her line of sight, Ok Hwa-jeong lunged forward, closing the distance to his rear, and swung her blade with every ounce of strength she possessed.

“!”

Yet, the Black Coffin instantly picked up on the murderous intent. He spun around on his heel, parrying her blade.

*Clang!*

Without a moment’s hesitation, he thrust his leg forward, kicking Ok Hwa-jeong squarely in the stomach.

*Thud!*

“Khff…”

Suppressing the agonizing sensation in her churning gut as blood welled up in her throat, she forced herself to swing her weapon again.

*Clang! Clang!*

Though she had trained diligently, her swordsmanship was crude and unrefined compared to the lethal prowess of the Black Coffins. To begin with, it was absurd for someone like her, a mystic dedicated to analyzing formations, to engage a conditioned martial artist in a sword fight. Dropping the momentum after a mere three exchanges, Ok Hwa-jeong found herself on the verge of having her skull split open.

*Clang!*

Somehow managing to hoist her blade, she intercepted the descending strike of her foe. However, the adversary’s inner force was incredibly potent and vast, and his mastery over distributing power operated on a completely different level. Just as her energy was about to fail, overwhelmed by the crushing realization that she could never hope to defeat him—

“Get out of the way!”

An individual grabbed her firmly by the collar of her robes and pulled her backward.

“Yu Sa-hyeong!”

It was the very person who had secured their survival by guiding the allies from the Tae-eul Sect, including Jin So-un.

“Retreat!”

Sprinting after Yu Ji-ryang, she dove back into the safety of the Eight Directions Stone Heaven Gold Lock Formation.

“Are you unharmed?”

“Sa-hyeong, they… their strength is overwhelming. I stand no chance against them in combat…”

“We have to engage them on our own terms.”

“Our… terms?”

Yu Ji-ryang fixed his eyes on the Black Coffin, who was currently examining the partition from the opposite side of the array. The Black Coffins pursuing Yu Ji-ryang and Ok Hwa-jeong bolted directly toward the barrier they had just traversed, moving like phantoms.

*Thud!*

Sustaining a violent impact to their heads and torsos, they were thrown flat onto the ground.

“What sort of sorcery is this…”

The Black Coffin pushed himself up, holding his fractured nose, and began inspecting the barrier once more.

“This is clearly a solid wall…!”

Even when he brought his sword down hard against it, nothing but a metallic ring echoed out, leaving no opening. How could the disciples of the Mosan Sect pass through effortlessly while they were blocked? As he kept feeling along the structure, repeatedly confirming that it was an unyielding physical obstacle—

*Shhh—*

Yu Ji-ryang materialized right out of the wall behind his back and drove his blade cleanly into the man’s spine.

“Gah!”

The struck Black Coffin spun around frantically, lashing out with his sword. But Yu Ji-ryang had already vanished back into the Eight Directions Stone Heaven Gold Lock Formation, and this time, Ok Hwa-jeong emerged from the flank, slashing across his thigh.

*Slice—*

The wound itself wasn’t fatal, but blood poured freely from the shallow gash. Pushed to the brink of absolute fury, the Black Coffin unleashed an explosion of palm energy in every direction.

*Boom, boom, boom, boom—*

Yet, as if mocking his frantic efforts, Yu Ji-ryang materialized behind him once more, leaving a deep, bloody laceration across his back.

“Aaargh!”

In the end, the Black Coffin dropped heavily to the ground, dead.

“Haa… haa… haa…”
“Huu… huu… huu…”

Yu Ji-ryang and Ok Hwa-jeong drew heavy breaths as they stared down at the lifeless body of the Black Coffin.

“Is… is he truly dead?”

“Yes.”

“…Did we succeed?”

“The battle is far from won.”

Yu Ji-ryang shifted his gaze to the side. The true crucible that would determine the triumph or ruin of this conflict lay entirely beyond the boundaries of the Eight Directions Stone Heaven Gold Lock Formation.

I execute the Great Heaven Sword Technique using the Red Light Sword. My opponent counters using the Great Purity Sword, acting as though he anticipated my movement perfectly. The Whirlwind Sword masterfully weaves through my illusory blades, aiming directly for the lethal points on my body.

Stepping back two paces, I counter with the Small Heaven Sword Technique.

*Clang, clang, clang!*

Crimson sparks cascade through the air, and for a moment, the Whirlwind Sword seems to give ground.

*Slice—*

He strikes forward once more, cleaving through the empty air.

*Whoosh—*

Strands of my hair, severed by the Whirlwind Sword, drift downward. Refusing to yield any further ground, I match his aggression.

Three Styles of White Moon Ascending Heaven.
First Style.
Extreme Speed (Geuk-kwae).

The air is cleanly sundered, and Yong So-ah, who was actively wielding the Whirlwind Sword, is sliced through.

“Even when you have witnessed it with your own eyes—”

However, that proved to be nothing but a fading afterimage of Yong So-ah.

“Are you still denying reality?”

Yong So-ah suddenly materialized from my flank, immediately transitioning into the Nine Palaces Divine Movement Sword. The localized air currents of the Taiji diagram pressed in dangerously. I unsheathed the Ascension Blade, a weapon I had kept concealed until this very moment. It was only half the length of a standard sword, making it an ideal tool for an unexpected counterattack.

Yet—

*Clang!*

Yong So-ah smoothly swatted away the Ascension Blade as if he had foreseen the maneuver, pressing his offensive without a pause.

“I foresaw this development as well.”

*Slice—*
*Slice—*
*Slice—*

Fresh cuts began appearing across my flesh. Yong So-ah displayed no signs of agitation, nor did he seem intoxicated by his impending triumph; he remained entirely composed, as though completely accustomed to this manner of combat.

Having every single strike effortlessly neutralized is the ultimate form of despair for any martial artist. The insurmountable wall of hopelessness felt by the countless warriors who had previously locked blades with Yong So-ah now weighed heavily on me. Experiencing this firsthand, fully aware that this bastard can glimpse the future, made the looming shadow of despair feel all the more overwhelming.

Even so, I refused to let go of my weapon. No, giving up is simply not an option.

“…”

The expression on Yong So-ah’s face, which had maintained absolute control over the battle until now, shifted subtly. He muttered under his breath while executing lethal thrusts at my vital spots, before finally breaking his silence.

“Why… do you persist?”

“What?”

“Can you not see it? Ultimately, you will suffer defeat at my hands, throwing your life away in a futile attempt to halt my advance. Why do you keep fighting despite that?”

His eyes locked onto the numerous gashes covering my body.

“Are you placing your bets on that unnatural regenerative trait of yours?”

You absolute bastard, when on earth did you pick up on that too?

“…I have no idea.”

“You have no idea?”

A flicker of visible disappointment seemed to cross Yong So-ah’s features. Disappointment, huh? Fascinating…

“I truly do not know.”

“You are telling me you wagered your very existence without understanding your own motivations…?”

“I mean I have no idea why you are asking such an obvious question.”

“…What?”

If I refuse to simply perish here, if I refuse to watch the Mosan Sect undergo utter devastation, and if I refuse to sit idly by while the Great War between Justice and Evil transforms into an even more gruesome nightmare, then I must fight. More than that, I must prevail.

“Does not everyone wage war for their own definition of Justice (Jeong-ui)?”

“…”

“What I am saying is, even if you are bound to fail—no, even when you are fully aware of your impending defeat, is not struggling and fighting with everything you have until the very end the true essence of Justice?”

Recalling the countless leaders of the Martial Alliance who had deeply let me down in my previous existence, I swore an oath. Even if I am broken. Even if my entire body is shattered. Even if failure is an absolute certainty. Even if I know exactly how it ends. I will never look away from the reality standing before me, and I will press forward until the final breath.

“I am asking you if that is not what Justice means!”

I swore to myself that if I ever obtained true power, I would never live as a coward like them. I would never back down in the face of absolute might, nor would I abandon my post and flee. I hammered this vow into my soul, repeatedly recalling my own past humiliations.

“…”

*Clang!*
*Clang!*
*Clang!*

We exchanged three fierce clashes of steel. Yong So-ah leaped back slightly, quickly regaining his trademark detached demeanor.

“Foolishness.”

“What is?”

“A naive concept of righteousness is nothing more than an obsession that snuffs out what little embers of hope remain.”

“Is that so?”

A lethal aura settled over Yong So-ah’s countenance.

“Your life ends here.”

Should I consider it a benefit that I am learning about the various emotional shifts of Yong So-ah—details I never picked up on in my past life?

“Yong So-ah.”

At the end of the day, this man is still human.

“But let me ask you something.”

As Yong So-ah unleashed the Nine Palaces Divine Movement Sword, I countered by deploying the Twin Heaven Sword Formula. The Whirlwind Sword instantly lunged toward my vital point.

*Clang!*

“For the past ten exchanges—”

Parrying his strike, I stared directly into his eyes.

“Not a single one of your strikes has hit its mark.”

“!!!”

For the very first time, a look of genuine shock fractured that infuriatingly calm face. Savoring the absolute thrill of witnessing that composure crack, the corners of my mouth curled up into a wide grin.

Back when youths his age held the Dragon and Phoenix Association in high esteem, Heo Gwan-jung openly scoffed at them. To him, it was nothing more than a glorified game of heroes played by privileged children from affluent backgrounds. They were hothouse flowers born into elite lineages, pampered with rare elixirs and marrow-cleansing rituals, training under ideal conditions before stepping into the academy. It was simply the domestic roleplay of disciples hailing from even more powerful clans and orders within that sheltered garden.

For Heo Gwan-jung, who entered the world as a parentless orphan, survived brutal training entirely on his own merits, and attained the rank of a Black Coffin before even reaching twenty, it could not be viewed any other way. Had he been raised in the exact same privileged environment, he would have evolved into someone far more formidable than any member of the Dragon and Phoenix Association. This was a truth openly acknowledged by the instructors of the special forces. They frequently marveled at his innate perception, noting that Heo Gwan-jung’s insight scarcely seemed human.

Even mastering the Eighteen Azure Claws with the explicit authorization of the Inspection Hall had not been handed to him. It was the hard-earned reward for his own unadulterated dedication.

Yet, he had been stripped of the fruits of that raw effort precisely because of those hothouse flowers.

“Khhh…”

As he attempted to utilize the Eighteen Azure Claws, the internal energy gathering at his fingertips only served to aggravate his physical injuries further.

‘Those bastards deserve to die… they deserve to be slaughtered…’

Furthermore, the moment they realized he had lost the use of the Eighteen Azure Claws, the fellow Black Coffins who had previously obeyed his directives began treating him with distinct coldness. To make matters worse, waves of suspicion were directed at him due to the discrepancy flagged by Namgung San of the Execution Squad.

From the start, raising such an issue was completely absurd. How could there possibly be an error regarding the Kill List? Those individuals had simply harbored resentment toward him because of his youth. Acting as though they had been waiting for a vulnerability like this, they were now executing the directives of the Execution Squad instead.

“What do you expect to accomplish with those ruined hands? Stop getting in the way and stay back.”

Heo Gwan-jung’s fury intensified at the blatant hostility shown by men twice his age, individuals who used to take his orders solely because they lacked his innate capabilities. It was a certainty that they would cast him aside once this mission concluded. The society of the Black Coffins operated on unyielding merit. If a warrior failed to deliver concrete results at the critical moment, their sole destiny was to be abandoned and forgotten.

‘Like this… I refuse to be thrown away like this.’

A dark, buried memory from his earliest days clawed its way to the surface, filling his mind with a sickening dread. Yet, no matter how desperately he searched his memories, there was no secret martial art he could call upon in this moment. Because his trajectory from the orphanage had led him directly into the special forces, the only styles he had ever mastered were the White Tiger Sword Technique of the Martial Alliance and the standard combat styles taught to the regular forces.

None of those conventional arts possessed the power to reverse his current predicament.

‘If only I belonged to a real lineage!’

His deep-seated hatred toward the Dragon and Phoenix Association, who had spent their entire existences as the chosen elite, reached a boiling point. If he possessed an inheritance of hidden martial arts or the ancestral techniques of a great sect meant for such a crisis, he would easily be able to extricate himself from this desperate situation…

[*My child.*]

In that precise instant.

[*My child.*]

A forgotten memory piece emerged from the deepest recesses of his mind.

[*Never let this fade from your mind.*]

The lips of a vague entity within that vision moved with deliberate slowness.

[*This is your true heritage.*]

Slowly but surely, the fragmented memory began to align, growing sharper and clearer. Though the recollections had been shattered into pieces, their inherent clarity made it simple to link them together one by one. The moment every single piece locked into place—

“…”

Heo Gwan-jung’s entire frame shook violently. It was an unmistakable martial discipline. A tremendous, overwhelming power unlike anything he had ever witnessed before emanated from the completed memory. Furthermore, it carried a profound sense of deep belonging that he had never once felt in his entire existence.

‘This is my true heritage… My real lineage…’

Upon discovering the foundational root he had spent his entire life searching for, tears began to stream uncontrollably down Heo Gwan-jung’s face.