I draw my sword and point it at him.
At the familiar motion, repeated hundreds, thousands of times, my internal energy naturally stirs, awakening every sense in my body.
My five senses sharpen, taking in the world with greater precision, and the killing intent that flows out of me naturally merges with my Qi Sense, causing everything in the surrounding area to react to my hostility.
And then, the sword.
From the blade, where a blood-red Sword Qi, nearly crimson, blazes, the history I have built up until now rises along with a thick killing intent.
All of this, for a single purpose. I wished for the death of the Blood Flame Fist Demon.
Meeting the killing intent I unleashed with my full power head-on, the Blood Flame Fist Demon flinched and narrowed his eyes.
"You. Why the hell are you standing on that side?"
"You were acting like you'd fight at any moment, and now you suddenly say something like that?"
No matter how thick my killing intent was, it wasn't enough to overwhelm a Transcendent Peak martial artist and stop him in his tracks. At best, it would slow him down a little.
The Blood Flame Fist Demon, instead of throwing a fist blazing with Qi Flame at me as I looked at him in confusion, began to flap his mouth.
"That level of yours is hardly ordinary, but I've seen this kind of killing intent many times before. Among Demonic Cultists, especially the crazed ones, they often carry it. …How can you stand on the side of the Orthodox Sects?"
"So that's what you were talking about."
It seemed that from my killing intent, from the aura that seeped out of it, he had sensed something and, on his own, felt a kinship with me.
"If our intentions are the same, if you've merely hidden yourself in the Tang Clan to bide your time, then that changes everything."
"Surely you're not asking me to join the Demonic Cult?"
"I'm saying I'd help you, if that's what you want."
"Hah."
For a moment, I was so dumbfounded that a hollow laugh slipped out.
Perhaps the vicious things I harbored within me did share something in common with the Demonic Cult. But.
"Most of the Demonic Cult's disciples were the same. They always thought of themselves as the victims, no matter how long it went on."
"…"
"Enough talk. Raise your fists. Or offer your neck. If you have a grudge to settle, then it's against me."
The Yin Energy Seol Ri-hyang had given me wouldn't last much longer.
A moment ago, I'd been stalling for time because I needed a chance to channel it in. Now, I had to swing my sword as many times as I could before the Yin Energy dissipated uselessly.
Instead of continuing the conversation, I poured my surging internal energy straight through Yongcheonhyeol and stepped into the Thunder Step.
KWA-RUNG!
The distance closed in an instant. I was aware of that delicate zone where my sword could reach but his fist could not, and I swung toward his neck.
"Ha!"
The Blood Flame Fist Demon snorted as if the whole thing were laughable, thrusting his fist straight at me. I could tell what he was thinking without even looking.
My realm might be higher, but the internal energy I've built up must be lacking — so he'll just crush me with raw force.
A sound judgment. In truth, my internal energy reserves were far too lacking compared to the Blood Flame Fist Demon's.
But when sword and fist clash, there is something far more important than the sheer amount of internal energy.
Swerk.
"You insane—!"
The Blood Flame Fist Demon, his hand and sleeve lightly grazed, recoiled in shock and withdrew his fist.
A pity. I had intended to split him open in that moment of carelessness.
"How… what in the world did you do?!"
"I did nothing. It's just that your fist, which only ever picked on opponents weaker than itself, has gone soft."
Half of that sneer was aimed at the trap I was laying, but the other half was sincere.
A fist fighter trains the External Arts and stokes his Fist Energy fiercely so that blades prove useless when he faces other martial artists who carry weapons.
But the Blood Flame Fist Demon had always swung his fists to efficiently burn those weaker than himself.
Thanks to that, the bastard had learned to wield the Blood Flame Death Cultivation hotter, farther-reaching, and more delicately.
This meant he had stepped past his old limits and set one foot into the realm of Force Qi Skill—but it also meant he had drifted from the very essence of being a fist fighter.
An invincible body that can never be cut. An absolute single punch that nothing can block.
That is the dream of every fist fighter, yet the Blood Flame Fist Demon had abandoned it, chasing instead a martial art that burned the weak more efficiently.
Naturally, when you gain something, you lose something in return.
The Blood Flame Fist Demon's internal energy carried an even more intense heat, and his control over it had also advanced a step further.
But as a fist fighter, the Blood Flame Fist Demon could only continue to regress.
My sword, on the other hand, had been honed to cut down those stronger than myself.
Unlike the Blood Flame Fist Demon, I couldn't burn down a house in a single breath or collapse a levee.
It was simply sharp.
Though he had let his guard down, this was precisely why the Blood Flame Fist Demon had allowed such an easy wound.
As if he knew this himself, the Blood Flame Fist Demon's face flushed red and pale as he drew up his energy with even greater ferocity.
"You bastard!"
Unlike a moment ago when it was merely a bit warm, the unique heat of Yang-Gang Qi began to choke his breath.
At the same time, the Yin Energy he had received from Seol Ri-hyang reacted on its own and began to release. Guiding it to spread through his entire body, he opened his mouth.
"It seems you've finally found the will to fight properly."
"…Yes. I've learned well enough that you cannot stand with the Demonic Cult, so there's no helping it."
Lowering his stance, the Blood Flame Fist Demon took a horse stance. That posture was unlike ordinary Fist and Leg Arts.
Normally, a horse stance is a posture that makes it easy to execute techniques or respond to the opponent's martial arts.
Thus, though the fine movements differ, they share the common trait of reducing openings and facilitating quick strikes.
But the Blood Flame Fist Demon's horse stance was a little different.
He spread both arms wide, elbows bent at an odd angle—a bizarre posture. It might be easy to launch an attack from that stance, but wasn't it full of openings?
But I knew better. Though it looked riddled with gaps, that stance was the one that suited the Blood Flame Fist Demon best.
Hadn't I faced him enough times before my regression to be sick of it?
That wasn't just a punching posture—it was a stance for channeling internal energy through his fists.
From one of his fists, with the Blood Flame Death Cultivation pushed to its extreme, an unusually fierce flame erupted.
The Qi Flame, having fed on the blood from the wounds I'd inflicted, swelled greatly. Suddenly, the flame ballooned. No—it was Fist Energy shooting forth from the fist the Blood Flame Fist Demon extended.
Whoosh—!
The Qi Flame flew in a sinister curve like a snake slithering across the ground. I sliced through its center with my sword, thickly wrapped in internal energy.
The burning serpent lost its form and scattered around the trajectory my sword had carved, but its heat did not fade—it lingered in the air.
The sharply honed Yang Qi seeped into the surrounding air, hindering my breathing, and the Fist Energy I'd thought dispersed pierced through my Sword Qi in that brief moment, attempting to sear a faint burn into my palm through the sword.
Just as Seol Ri-hyang injected Yin Energy into her opponent through their clashing weapons, the Blood Flame Fist Demon was doing something similar through the Fist Energy he'd scattered.
Under normal circumstances, I would have begun to wither away from this point onward.
No matter how sharp my sword was, no matter how well I dismantled the Blood Flame Fist Demon's subtle Fist and Leg Art, it was difficult to do anything about a bastard who burned internal energy and sent Yang Qi into a frenzy with nothing more than a passing graze.
…And then, Seol Ri-hyang's Yin Energy reacted once more.
A thread of coolness chilled my body as the heat tried to rise, and I tightened my grip on the sword in my hand.
Before this Yin Energy was completely spent, I would bring down the Blood Flame Fist Demon.
With that single resolve, I began to swing my sword.
"Huuup…!"
The sword, brimming with killing intent, aimed for the Blood Flame Fist Demon's vital points. Between the brows, the nape of the neck, the heart, the tendons of the wrist, the armpit…
The stance I took after each swing became the preparatory posture for the next strike, so my sword never once halted.
The vengeance that had reached its conclusion was skillfully refined into the seething killing intent, focused entirely on the opponent before me.
And so, each time the blood-red sword wove dizzying trails through the air, red lines multiplied across the Blood Flame Fist Demon's body and droplets of blood splattered.
Unable to claim the advantage of overwhelming force, the Blood Flame Fist Demon was not the threatening martial artist his Transcendent Peak realm suggested.
He boasted absolute dominance over those weaker than himself, but against opponents of equal or greater strength, he could not bring out his true skill.
Even though I have not yet reached full Transcendent Peak, and my internal energy and body are lacking compared to the Blood Flame Fist Demon's.
My sword had already surpassed the Blood Flame Fist Demon's Fist and Leg Art long ago, so this outcome was only natural.
Of course, the Blood Flame Fist Demon was not simply taking it lying down.
"You monster! I don't know how you're holding on, but you can't last much longer!"
The Blood Flame Fist Demon had noticed both that I had a means of enduring the heat flowing into me through the clash of opposing forces, and that it was only a temporary measure.
The flames of the Blood Flame Death Cultivation, feeding not only on the bastard's fists but also on his freshly opened wounds and blood, blazed even more fiercely.
A Qi Flame so dark it was nearly black covered his entire body. In a way, it looked like an imitation of Protective Qi.
But unlike the Aura refined through Intent, simply pouring out internal energy to cover the whole body was the height of foolishness.
This was, in effect, throwing my internal energy away like pouring it onto the ground. The problem was that this foolish act was effective against me in my current state.
The Yin Energy I received from Seol Ri-hyang was not my own energy. That was why I could not control it; it merely reacted to the surrounding Yang Energy according to the inherent nature of Yin Energy.
Even if it lacked clear murderous intent and power, upon touching Yang Energy, it would release an equal amount of Yin Energy to cancel it out and return to a stable state.
If the Blood Flame Fist Demon was wasting his internal energy so meaninglessly, then Seol Ri-hyang's Yin Energy was also being consumed meaninglessly.
The Yin Energy melted away in an instant, like a snowball dropped onto a brazier. At the same time, the heat I had been ignoring until now began to make itself clearly felt.
"Tch."
The single thread of coolness that had remained in my body grew thinner and thinner, then vanished completely.
Each time I met the bastard's fist with my sword or cut through the Qi Flame he shot out, the Yang Energy that rode in would become an internal injury if I didn't expel it in time.
The pain was like having my insides scorched over a fire, and the Simnyeok and internal energy I burned to expel it only drained me further.
No matter how perfect my Sword-Mind Unity, if my absolute power fell, so too would my Aura.
KWAANG!
A sound of impact, not of cutting, rang in my ears. The sword that had been slicing through the Blood Flame Fist Demon's fists without resistance until now was finally blocked.
The bastard curled the corner of his mouth into a sneer.
"Tsk, tsk. Looks like your trump card is already spent. From here on, it's my turn."
"No. Not yet."
I gritted my teeth and swung the sword once more. Ignoring the pain, I forced my mind back into Concentration and condensed my Sword Qi.
Seol Ri-hyang's Yin Energy was completely spent, but the Blood Flame Fist Demon had also pushed himself hard. And on top of that, wasn't my body growing sluggish from the killing intent pressing in from all sides at this very moment?
I could still manage a bit more. …That was what I had thought.
Swoosh! Crack!
The sword, swung with the force to cleave the Blood Flame Fist Demon's waist in two, was blocked by a hand wreathed in a dark red Qi Flame.
He hadn't managed to block it completely, it seemed—blood streamed from his palm, but it caught fire before it could even fall to the ground, adding to the heat.
"Got you."
"Where do you think you're going!"
I tried to yank the sword back in a hurry, but the Blood Flame Fist Demon, heedless of his palm being shredded, held onto the blade and pushed his internal energy into it.
Whoosh!
As if responding to the blood flowing from his palm, the flames instantly swelled in size.
That heat seeped into the sword, consuming it.
I tried to push it back by pouring in my internal energy, but at best, it only bought me a little time.
Part of it was that I lacked internal energy in quantity, but more than that, the difference lay purely in operational skill.
The Blood Flame Fist Demon's Fist and Leg Art had been stagnant for over a decade, but his skill at handling internal energy must have continued to develop bit by bit.
In the end, the black sword forged from solid black iron began to glow red, and the sword that should have felt like my own body started to wound me.
Sizzle—!
The sharp pain in my palm came with the smell of burning flesh.
I had to let go of the sword. …But I couldn't. If there was one thing I had over the Blood Flame Fist Demon, it was my Sword Art alone.
Even if I survived for a moment, before long it wouldn't be the sword but my body that caught fire.
So I would endure it.
Even if I lost the use of my hands for a while, I couldn't retreat here.
Just as I was about to pour all the internal energy used to protect my body and sword into my Sword Qi, sharpening its edge like before—
"—————!"
A familiar song.
At the same time, the heat of the Blood Flame Death Cultivation weakened—slightly, but unmistakably—and the blazing Yang aura that had been scorching the surroundings lost its edge.
I turned around in surprise, and so did the Blood Flame Fist Demon. There stood Seol Ri-hyang, who should have been hiding, now revealing herself openly.
Frost glimmered beneath her feet. Coldness lingered in her gaze. And an energy that cut through space itself, riding on the sound of her song.
"Ah."
That figure somehow resembled the one from before the regression.