A shiver ran down her spine without her even realizing it, and Seomun Hwa-rin couldn't hide her shock.
"What in the world…?!"
Cheon Hwi had drawn his sword. The killing intent he radiated was, strangely enough, all deflected away from Seomun Hwa-rin, so she couldn't feel it directly—but even so, she could tell.
This was by no means an ordinary level.
The energy, which should have had no physical form, sank the surroundings into a mire like a thick swamp, and the air grew so heavy that even breathing required caution.
Of course, even if Seomun Hwa-rin, who had reached the Harmony Realm, were to face Cheon Hwi's killing intent head-on, it would hardly be a problem.
A martial artist who has already perfected themselves and awakened their Intent possesses an almost absolute resistance to mental interference such as killing intent or bewitchment arts.
However, to put it another way, this also means that unless one has reached the lofty realm of Harmony, one cannot be free from Cheon Hwi's killing intent.
In fact, this is an absurd matter.
Killing intent is a basic application of Intent. Everyone is born with Essence, Qi, and Spirit, but they simply fail to fully utilize what they possess because they have not achieved harmony.
The proof that even those who have not reached a high realm can handle Intent, albeit clumsily, is killing intent itself.
Therefore, killing intent always requires sincerity… and it also has clear limits.
This is because the human mind is not as angular as one might think, and the greater the sincere desire to harm someone, the closer one comes to Qi Deviation.
If one tries to harbor deep killing intent, falling into Qi Deviation is unavoidable, and if one falls into Qi Deviation, one cannot sharpen one's will, and thus the killing intent also weakens.
That is how it usually is.
But what of Cheon Hwi now? He had not swung his sword even once, yet dozens of first-rate martial artists were clutching their throats and gasping for air.
Those who had reached the Peak Realm were not quite so affected, though their fingertips trembled noticeably. Only the Lord of the Black Heaven Sword Gate, who had attained the Transcendent Peak, broke out in a cold sweat and drew his sword, its entire blade stained pitch-black.
At the Dragon Phoenix Gathering, they had briefly crossed swords and learned that he wielded a considerable killing sword, but no one could have expected it to be to this degree.
No matter that Cheon Hwi was a martial artist standing at the very edge of the Peak Realm… no, even if he were a martial artist who had reached the Transcendent Peak, this killing intent was far too dense.
Yes. Unless one were a Heavenly Killing Star…
"Ah."
Seomun Hwa-rin stared blankly into Cheon Hwi's eyes. A gaze that had sunk heavily. Deep within it, a dark red bloodlight symbolizing Qi Deviation was flickering.
The moment she faced him, Seomun Hwa-rin understood instinctively.
It was ominous, and then some.
Cheon Hwi, cloaked in a sinister aura, stoking an even more sinister Sword Qi.
It was almost horrifying how a human body could harbor such killing intent.
But that wasn't all.
Intent was, in essence, will and thought. It was another word for the mind, and every martial artist carried within them a mental landscape.
Thus, a martial artist who had reached a high realm could glimpse that landscape through Intent.
And Seomun Hwa-rin saw it. Beneath the vast killing intent that made heaven and earth tremble, she saw the sorrow etched into it.
"…Now I understand."
Amidst the acrid smell of burning, the faint trace of a ship's fragrance lingered. A single camellia flower fell, blooming crimson within the dark red blood.
And then, the emptiness and self-reproach that followed.
What Cheon Hwi carried was not killing intent. It was a sorrow too great for any one person to bear.
That killing intent was Cheon Hwi's mourning.
"You said she resembled you."
I do not know what he holds in his heart, nor what grieves him so.
But I could understand why he wept in such a fearsome manner.
"Indeed, those words ring true."
Because that was the only way he knew.
Tears are weakness, and weakness is death.
The scoundrels of the Unorthodox Sects are like jackals—once they spot a vulnerable spot, they tear into it without mercy, cutting off the breath of life.
Seomun Hwa-rin had lived that way, and Cheon Hwi had likely lived such a life as well.
A life like a precarious dance teetering on the edge of a blade.
It took Seomun Hwa-rin a long time, but in the end, she accepted her own weakness and regret.
That was how she ascended to the Harmony Realm, and thus she touched Rejuvenation.
However, Cheon Hwi was a little different.
Even knowing that the blade was sharp, and that the more he tried to embrace it, the more wounds he would accumulate, Cheon Hwi simply held on.
Deeply. Ever more deeply. So that even in pain, he would not forget. So that even in agony, he would not let go.
A foolish act, neither fully accepting nor casting away.
Even if it only served to fester his own wounds, Cheon Hwi refused to compromise.
"Then I, too, shall steel my resolve."
Standing beside Tang So-wol and Seol Ri-hyang, Cheon Hwi was someone who knew how to smile quite happily. Seomun Hwa-rin wished to become that way as well.
For Cheon Hwi had spoken of finding happiness together.
Seomun Hwa-rin rolled the unanswered words around in her mouth.
Then she clenched her fist. For the moment when she would finally speak them aloud.
Internal energy surged from her Dantian and gathered in her fist. Compressed and compressed again, condensed to a level normally impossible, the energy was forged solid by her Intent.
Wreathed in Aura, Seomun Hwa-rin glared through the white hair scattered by the torrent of her internal energy.
"Lord of the Black Alliance. I intend to take Cheon Hwi with me from this moment on. If you wish to obstruct me, then try. I will gladly shatter your skull."
"…This Alliance Lord has been stubborn, but he has also made many concessions. Accepting another Harmony Realm martial artist to raise the prestige of the entire Black Alliance is one way, but know that I, Sangwan Geuk, the Twin-Blade Spear King, also have a way to raise my own standing by defeating a peer martial artist like Baekbal Nachal."
"I have no interest in your games of dominance. I have declared my intent, and I will soon carry it out. If you wish to stop me, then draw that spear of yours."
"Hmph, I was puzzled that you differed from what I had heard, but now you finally show your true colors."
Sangwan Geuk let out a chuckle, as if he found the whole thing amusing. Even at this very moment, he kept his eyes fixed on Cheon Hwi.
Despite being well past fifty, Sangwan Geuk was as giddy as a young boy. Instead of drawing his spear, he plopped down right where he stood.
"I've changed my mind. I won't stop you—go if you want. But don't you want to see how far that brat can go?"
"…Qi Deviation only grows more dangerous the longer it persists."
"Qi Deviation?"
Sangwan Geuk repeated the words as if he had heard something utterly absurd, then slapped his knee and burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Did you just say Qi Deviation, Baekbal Nachal? What about that looks like a martial artist lost to Qi Deviation!"
Sangwan Geuk, thoroughly excited, pointed forward with his thick arm. There stood Cheon Hwi, swinging his sword with eyes shimmering with bloody light.
The elongated Sword Qi sliced through the necks of half a dozen first-rate martial artists who had been nearly neutralized. Whether it was fear or a final desperate struggle, the warriors of the Black Heaven Sword Gate charged forward all at once.
Cheon Hwi took each of them in with his eyes and began to respond with calm composure.
Where strength was needed, he pressed down with blazing Sword Qi like fire; when he needed to break apart a clustered formation, he slipped through the gaps and danced a whirlwind of blades; and when a sword thrust came from a blind spot, he knocked it aside with ease, as if he had known it was coming all along.
These were first-rate martial artists—people who, anywhere they went, were praised for their skill with a sword. They had reached the threshold of mastery, the realm where one begins to be truly acknowledged in the martial world… and yet.
Such first-rate martial artists fell all too easily.
No, it wasn't just the first-rate ones. Even a Peak Realm martial artist, steadying his trembling hands and belatedly summoning his Sword Qi, had his stance broken within a few Exchanges and was pierced straight through the heart.
It was, in every sense, an overwhelming display of martial skill. But what truly astonished Seomun Hwa-rin was something entirely different.
What amazed her most was Cheon Hwi's composed reaction—he had not lost his composure for even a single moment.
"…It's not Qi Deviation, is it? No, that's right. Cheon Hwi has clearly fallen into Qi Deviation. However."
However, he had regained his sanity while still in the throes of Qi Deviation.
A contradiction—mad, yet of sound mind. But to Seomun Hwa-rin, who had caught even a glimpse of the mental landscape Cheon Hwi harbored, it seemed only natural.
Cheon Hwi had likely fallen into Qi Deviation a long time ago. It was simply that he had already overcome it by now.
He had merely chosen to hold onto the madness he'd conquered, rather than cast it away.
Sangwan Geuk, grinning lewdly, opened his mouth.
"Isn't it amusing? I can't stand how curious I am—how a person can fall apart like this, and how strong he can become while so thoroughly broken."
"There is nothing amusing about it."
"Still, for now, we must keep watching. You can feel it too, can't you? That he stands at a crucial crossroads."
"…"
Seomun Hwa-rin pressed her lips tightly shut.
Once a state of mind takes root, the Intent that flows from it does not change easily.
If it could shift back and forth so readily, it would not carry such weight in the first place.
So what of Cheon Hwi now? His Aura, as he faced the Black Heaven Sword Gate, was beginning to waver.
That did not mean he was on the verge of collapse. If one had to put it into words, it was closer to being unsettled.
"Did you not say that I was not the only one indebted to the Black Heaven Sword Gate?"
Seomun Hwa-rin did not know what had happened in Cheon Hwi's past. Whenever she probed delicately, he would either clam up or bluntly change the subject.
But with the stories he let slip little by little, and the attitude he showed unconsciously, she could make a few guesses.
To Cheon Hwi, the Black Heaven Sword Gate must be an irreconcilable enemy.
Perhaps it was even the cause of the state he was in now.
"Kuh."
Seomun Hwa-rin gritted her teeth and furrowed her small brow. She knew, rationally, that even without Qi Deviation, Cheon Hwi was pushing himself far too hard right now.
Even at this very moment, his reckless circulation of internal energy and his use of Intent beyond his level were surely wreaking havoc on his Meridians, and his upper Dantian was drying up by the second.
If not for the Lord of the Black Alliance's interference, she would have stopped him this instant.
"But…"
If this was the moment Cheon Hwi faced his inner demons—the scar that had festered and burst in the deepest part of him—
Then she must not interfere.
Martial Artists were, after all, beings who could only grow by surpassing themselves, no one else.
For Cheon Hwi to truly let go of his own hell, he had to face that hell once himself.
And then overcome it once more. Alone, without anyone's help.
Cheon Hwi had reached out his hand to Seomun Hwa-rin, yet she could do nothing for him in return.
At best, all she could do was watch from afar and rush to his side only at the truly dangerous moment.
In the end, Cheon Hwi's problems were for Cheon Hwi alone to resolve.
That fact was so infuriating that Seomun Hwa-rin clawed at her own chest.
Yet, unlike the Lord of the Black Alliance, who sat back to watch, she leaned forward, ready to spring into action at any moment.
Seomun Hwa-rin whispered in a voice so small it reached no one.
"…This one shall keep watch."
***
His vision was endlessly red—whether it was the fire's blaze, blood, or Sword Qi, he could not tell.
In this accursed world, there was nothing but him and his sword.
Nothing remained but me and my sword.