The sword that had definitely been Ink Color began to glow pure white.
A pale white tinged with a faint blue hue. Even in broad daylight, its brightness was palpable, yet strangely, it did not dazzle the eyes.
It was a soft light closer to moonlight than sunlight. But the results that white sword produced were anything but soft.
"Kuaaah! Sword wind?! How can sword wind—!"
"Wh-why! The formation is still holding…!"
"Abandon the wounded! And merge with the third formation!"
Every time Cheon Hwi's sword swung, the formation of the Tyrant Asura Sect crumbled, and the martial artists composing it were left sprawled on the ground.
Most were second-rate to first-rate, with a handful of Peak Realm martial artists. And only two—including the Left Protector—had reached Transcendent Peak. Given the gap between that average level of force and the Harmony Realm, which was called the realm of absolute masters, it was only natural.
Only natural, but…
"Is that sword not even touching them?"
The Twin Ghost Sword had not expected that the enemy would be cut down like weeds under a scythe without the blade even making contact.
As the shoulders of the Twin Ghost Sword, which had been tensed in preparation for any contingency, relaxed, Tang So-wol smiled with pride.
"Hehe. Do you know that martial artists who have reached the Harmony Realm have their own mental images melt into their martial arts, giving rise to a single unique trait?"
"Yes. Within their own martial art, they can enforce their own rules that transcend common sense."
A mental image melting into martial arts sounds simple in words, but in reality, it is an absurd impossibility.
A mental image is something that does not exist. In other words, it happens in the mind, but martial arts must be performed directly with the body.
For a mental image to melt into martial arts means using martial arts as a medium to actually bring forth one's mental image—something that does not exist, or would normally be impossible.
That is why it is a realm granted only to Harmony Realm martial artists who have awakened their Intent.
If internal energy allows the human body to do more things, then Intent is the power that allows one to do things that were previously impossible.
"I heard that is also the reason the Alliance Lord's spear never misses. …But wait, wasn't the Great Hero White Moon Sword Lord's Intent that white sword?"
The Twin Ghost Sword remembers clearly. The One-Blade Asura's strike, which was as vicious as if the entire world had bared its teeth, and seemed to offer no place to dodge.
If it had been him, he would not have been able to offer any resistance and would have had his limbs torn apart on the spot.
But Cheon Hwi did it. No, he went beyond merely withstanding it—he cut down the One-Blade Asura's technique itself.
An incomprehensible sharpness. If a Harmony Realm martial artist's martial art carries a mental image, then just how dizzying a mental image must he harbor to produce such keenness?
As a fellow swordsman, it was a single slash that inspired awe bordering on reverence. But.
"Hehe. That is not some ultimate secret technique of young hero Cheon's, but merely one of his skills."
"…Pardon?"
Internal energy, no matter how condensed, can only ever flare up like a flickering Qi Flame.
Using Intent to condense that Qi Flame further and refine it into solidity is what creates Aura.
And yet, he had condensed that Aura once more. To dismiss that as mere skill made the Twin Ghost Sword's blood boil without him even realizing it.
'Since the Flying Butterfly Poison Peak is close to the Great Hero White Moon Sword Lord, it's understandable that he wouldn't know, not being a swordsman himself.'
The Twin Ghost Sword muttered this to himself, then spoke in a calm voice.
"It contains an Enlightenment and Intent that I find difficult to gauge as mere Skill. Just by looking at it, you can feel the sword's edge, can't you?"
"Yes. But these are words spoken directly by the young hero Cheon himself."
No matter how great the Enlightenment contained within, no matter how much Intent was poured into it, its essence was still just a sword.
To Cheon Hwi, a sword was something hard and sharp—a tool to harm enemies and protect his own people.
In that sense, the White Sword might be an oddity like the Sword Demon, who sought to become the sword itself, but to Cheon Hwi, who viewed the sword purely as a tool, it was less a goal and more a Technique to reach one.
In truth, the White Sword merely embodied what Cheon Hwi believed to be the essence of a sword—hard and sharp. By itself, it could do nothing.
"They say that for young hero Cheon, the White Sword is no different from drawing a fine blade from his waist. In truth, even the Twin Ghost Sword doesn't place tremendous meaning on drawing the sword and wrapping it in Sword Qi."
"That may be so, but…"
"Either way, this sparring trip will make young hero Cheon's martial art widely known, so let me share a bit ahead of time. Young hero Cheon's mental image—the root of his Intent—does not lie in the sword itself. It lies in how one wields it."
"How one wields it, you say."
"Yes. You'll see."
At Tang So-wol's words, the Twin Ghost Sword blankly watched the battle before him. No—it could hardly be called a battle, so one-sided was the assault.
The sword, crossing the space between them, split the center of the formation. No one was wounded by it, yet for some reason the formation lost its effect and began to collapse.
Those of lower realms were crushed by the killing intent and fell into a daze, while those who managed to endure by force suffered internal injuries or found their internal energy and bodily movements slowed to an extreme.
It was as if he had been cutting through the formation itself from the very beginning, rather than the people within it.
No matter how skilled a Harmony Realm martial artist might be, was such a thing truly possible?
The Twin Ghost Sword posed the question to himself, but he could not find an answer.
Well, of course. No matter how seasoned a Transcendent Peak martial artist might be, he would never have imagined that Cheon Hwi could see the flow of internal energy with his own eyes.
But whether anyone understood it or not, Cheon Hwi's sword strikes continued without pause.
They were not extraordinary techniques. He was merely tracing extremely simple lines in the air, as if performing the Three Talents Sword Technique against empty space.
Yet that alone was enough to strip the formation of its power and bring it crashing down, while the martial artists of the Hegemon Asura Sect fell one after another, clutching their arms or legs, six or seven at a time.
Even the few Transcendent Peak martial artists like the Left Protector and Right Protector fared no better. They had merely lasted a little longer before they too were soon rolling on the ground.
As if keeping the promise he had made, no one died. Even though the wounds bled quite heavily, not a single vital point had been struck.
With proper treatment afterward, and good food and plenty of rest, they would recover.
Cheon Hwi had subdued the entire Hegemon Asura Sect without taking a single step, merely by swinging his sword a few times.
The One-Blade Asura himself probably hadn't held high expectations, but he clearly hadn't anticipated this outcome either—his eyes, wide open, began to roll around in disbelief.
Only after witnessing all of this did the Twin Ghost Sword finally understand.
The white sword was indeed remarkable, but as Tang So-wol had said, it wasn't directly tied to Cheon Hwi's true martial arts.
In fact, he had adapted the Sword Demon's ultimate technique in his own way, so one could say that assessment was essentially correct.
As if gazing at a lump of gold that had fallen to the ground, Cheon Hwi nodded with satisfaction toward the sprawled martial artists of the Hegemon Asura Sect, then opened his mouth in a somewhat awkward tone.
"You coward! How dare you send your subordinates into a sparring match!"
"What, now?"
The One-Blade Asura was flustered, unable to comprehend what was happening as his men were taken down in the blink of an eye.
Before him, Cheon Hwi grinned as if he had been waiting for this very moment.
"You refuse the cup of persuasion and choose the cup of punishment."
"I never even offered you a cup of persuasion!"
"I will bring you down and raise the banner of the Unorthodox Sects."
"What nonsense is this from an Orthodox Sect dog!"
"Oh-ho. According to the rules the Black Alliance advocates, no matter the dispute, a duel between leaders takes priority over an all-out war to reduce casualties."
"Who actually follows that… wait. How do you know that, you White Moon Sword Lord?!"
"Because I'm currently traveling to sparring matches on the recommendation—no, the request—of the Lord of the Black Alliance."
"That bastard Twin Spear King!"
After snarling and cursing for a long while, One-Blade Asura let out a deep sigh and continued with a calmed gaze.
"Listen well, White Moon Sword Lord. Even if I lose, I lost to you—not to the Lord of the Black Alliance."
"Hm?"
"What I'm saying is, the one I'll yield to is you, White Moon Sword Lord—not the Twin Spear King!"
"…Is that so."
Unlike Cheon Hwi's somewhat deflated reaction, One-Blade Asura was sincere.
If he were to lose, and yet still cling to his life in a pathetic manner—
Then only two choices would remain for One-Blade Asura.
Either throw away his life, refusing to bow his head even in death, or yield to the man before him who had broken him.
The Lord of the Black Alliance was not among those choices.
It was a flow of consciousness that the Orthodox Sects could never understand, but to One-Blade Asura—born in Zhejiang Province and living his entire life as part of the Unorthodox—it was only natural.
The one who wins the fight takes everything.
That was how he had risen to his current position, and if he ever fell, he would surely collapse in the same manner.
The reason he had remained uncooperative with the Lord of the Black Alliance even after joining the Alliance was also because he had never been defeated in direct combat.
To One-Blade Asura, the Lord of the Black Alliance was a kind of business partner united for common interests, not someone above him.
A fierce will blazed in One-Blade Asura's eyes.
He had fought through countless battlefields until now, and every time, he had staked his life.
And now. The time had come once again, after a long while, to stake his life.
"Here I go…!"
Even among Harmony Realm martial artists, there are gaps. No—perhaps because they are those who have already touched the peak of their own path once, that gap is all the greater.
Fine techniques and psychological warfare meant nothing here. Though he was far younger, Cheon Hwi was a martial artist far superior to himself.
And so, One-Blade Asura decided to unleash his ultimate technique at once.
His body leaned forward as if ready to lunge at any moment. His blade was raised high in the upper stance.
He did not think of what came after. He poured everything he had into this single moment.
Perhaps that resolve showed through clearly. The dark-red Aura that bloomed above his raised blade shone more vividly than ever before.
This was the true intent of one who had survived countless life-and-death crises with a single blade.
Seeing this, Cheon Hwi also gave a faint smile and nodded.
"Good."
The atmosphere was as if he would lunge at any moment, the aggressive posture of the One-Blade Asura looking ready to cleave even a massive boulder with a single slash.
In contrast, the stance Cheon Hwi had taken was far more ordinary.
His legs were spread a comfortable shoulder-width apart, and the arm holding his sword hung loosely at his side.
A natural posture, as if he were merely holding a sword. Not a trace of any technique could be seen.
Until now, his stance had been one of deliberately releasing all tension from his body in order to concentrate his power in a single instant.
But this time was different. He was simply holding his sword lowered, with no intent whatsoever.
However, that did not mean Cheon Hwi was taking the coming strike lightly.
It was the essence of the Changgung Muae Sword Art he had recently witnessed in his sparring match with Namgung Jong.
The realization of the Namgung Clan: an ordinary sword is the flawless sword.
Cheon Hwi had interpreted this in his own way and unleashed it on the spur of the moment.
Namgung Dowi's sword was admirable, but as he himself had said, it was not a sword that suited Cheon Hwi.
But Namgung Jong was different. His realm might be low, but what he pursued overlapped with Cheon Hwi's to a certain extent.
A technique did not necessarily need to contain some profound mystery.
What mattered was that it reached the desired spot properly.
If that was possible, then things like a strong sword or a swift sword were nothing more than superfluous additions.
A brief silence. Then, after a signal exchanged through their eyes, the two martial artists moved at the same time.
KWAANG!
The One-Blade Asura's footwork, a stomp so powerful it seemed to split the earth.
His steps were so much faster than what he had shown before that they were practically incomparable, carrying him to Cheon Hwi's front in an instant.
The blade, carrying the full weight of that acceleration, came down with heavy, crushing force.
Though it was a bladed weapon, it exuded the oppressive presence of a massive boulder plummeting from above.
He rushed in and struck with all his strength behind the blade. A martial art befitting the Unorthodox Sects—practical, yet utterly simple.
Still, it served as a fine example of what could be achieved when such a technique was honed to its absolute limit.
But it didn't end there. There was a separate reason the alias "One-Blade Asura" had been given to him.
The enlightenment he had gained upon reaching the Harmony Realm. The martial art he had forged from it began to produce movements that defied common sense.
The One-Blade Asura's face contorted like a vengeful ghost, and his single blade began to split into many.
Of course, it wasn't truly splitting. It was merely his Aura swelling and tracing new arcs on either side.
Naturally, being struck by this would sever a part of you just as surely as being cut by the blade itself.
In exchange for giving up his Protective Qi, he had gained another afterimage of the blade.
What would only be possible for a monster with three heads and six arms, he was accomplishing with a single sword.
It was a strike truly worthy of the name One-Blade Asura.
Though they were his inferiors, Cheon Hwi now faced a situation as if three Harmony Realm martial artists were attacking him simultaneously with all their strength.
His sword swung half a beat late. And then.
KWA-RUNG!
With a thunderous roar that evoked the sound of lightning, a sword blazing white-hot traced a crescent arc.
There was no warning, no telltale sign whatsoever. He simply came to his senses and found the sword already swung, having carved a trajectory that pierced through three blades as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
A strike like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. It was the Thunderclap Sword, refined to a new level.
THUNK.
The shattered blade fragments spun through the air before embedding themselves into the ground.
The two blades formed of Aura dispersed shortly after, leaving only the fragment of the blade that One-Blade Asura himself had held, glinting in the sunlight.
One-Blade Asura stared at his broken blade with a flustered gaze, then bowed his head deeply.
"…I have lost. From this moment on, I and every martial artist of the Overlord Asura Sect will follow you."
"One-Blade Asura. A martial art worthy of that name. Well done."
Cheon Hwi returned his sword to his waist with a flat voice.
One-Blade Asura asked the young swordsman who had, as of today, taken over the Overlord Asura Sect alongside him.
"So? What am I supposed to do now? You swallowed us up because you wanted something, didn't you?"
"That goes without saying."
At Cheon Hwi's snicker, One-Blade Asura gulped.
What could he possibly want? Money? Women? Honor? A martial force? Perhaps the position that the Overlord Asura Sect had painstakingly built up over the years.
One-Blade Asura tensed slightly. Before him, Cheon Hwi looked up at the sky and continued speaking.
"Your life."
"…!"
"I spared it, so use it for me."
"Anything but——"
"Not needed. In the first place, the Overlord Asura Sect only collects tribute—it doesn't run any separate businesses, so it doesn't earn much money anyway."
"Isn't this already earning quite a lot?"
"With the money I've earned for the Tang Clan, I could buy five or six Overlord Asura Sects."
"What."
"That's just how unorthodox sects are. An individual can live in luxury, but when it comes to the collective strength and wealth of a group, it's hard to surpass the orthodox sects."
There was a considerable gap between the Sichuan Tang Clan, a member of the Five Great Families, and the Overlord Asura Sect, a newly founded sect whose leader was a Harmony Realm martial artist—but even accounting for that, his words were roughly accurate.
Of course, the One-Blade Asura, who had lived his entire life in Zhejiang Province as an unorthodox martial artist, wore a look of incomprehension.
Cheon Hwi himself had been quite startled by the scale of the Tang Clan when he first lived there, so he simply chuckled and let it pass.
"…Is my life really enough?"
"Yes. There will be a great war ahead. When that time comes, don't act like a bat—stick by my side and fight. After that, I'll let you go, so do as you please."
"If that's the case, then."
One-Blade Asura nodded. It was a truly admirable sight, the way he accepted his defeat so cleanly.
Cheon Hwi smiled with satisfaction and patted One-Blade Asura on the shoulder.
"First, here's your first order."
"What is it?"
"Drink the poison."
"?"
"I'll give you an antidote once a month, so don't worry."
"…What happens if I don't drink the antidote?"
"Your internal organs will melt away. I went through quite a bit of trouble making a poison that works even on Harmony Realm martial artists."
"Y-you lunatic…!"
Startled, One-Blade Asura jumped back.
"Weren't we getting along just fine a moment ago! Even without forcing me to drink poison, I've already admitted defeat!"
"Ridiculous. Acknowledging victory or defeat is the victor's prerogative. There is no statement more meaningless than a loser admitting they lost."
"What is that…"
One-Blade Asura was taken aback by the arrogant tone, far beyond anything he had imagined.
But from Cheon Hwi's perspective, this was only natural. After all, wasn't this the bastard who had agreed to fight together before his regression, only to betray him the moment things looked grim?
He couldn't just release him based on a mere admission of defeat.
When Cheon Hwi waved his hand, Tang So-wol, who had been quietly watching from behind, approached with an awkward smile.
"Um… please take care of me from now on?"
Her impression was gentle and mild, but on her palm, an Extreme Poison that was clearly horrifying at a glance was bubbling and churning.
"…"
Sensing his impending fate, One-Blade Asura squeezed his eyes shut tightly.