"Not easy."
"And who was it that said it would take care of itself as long as I fed it pure internal energy?"
Seol Ri-hyang giggled as she withdrew her hand from my back.
After a day of rest, I moved cautiously along the riverbank, trying all sorts of methods to see if I could make use of the Yin Energy she had given me.
Just as I had suppressed poison energy with my internal energy when poisoned, gathering it in one place to keep it from spreading.
Or wrapping Seol Ri-hyang's Yin Energy in my own internal energy, tying it up in a corner, and releasing it when needed.
Or, rather than drawing the Yin Energy into my meridians at all, simply pushing it out across the skin of my entire body.
I tried various other methods as well, but most yielded only subtle results.
That was only natural, since it was, after all, someone else's internal energy. I couldn't operate it directly, and keeping it in my body for too long brought on chills and minor side effects.
Moreover, when I tried to seriously draw up my internal energy to wield my sword, my Simnyeok would scatter and get in the way.
Still, the reason I continued to think it was worth trying was simple.
"At least it's better than before."
"That's… true."
Because with each repetition, I could feel myself growing more accustomed to it.
This was partly because Seol Ri-hyang's Yin Energy was astonishingly pure, and partly because my own ability to manage internal energy was exceptional.
Rather than that, it seemed like the experience of coordinating with Seol Ri-hyang before the regression was the bigger factor.
Though the martial arts we had each mastered were different, the Yin Energy at their foundation ultimately came from Seol Ri-hyang herself.
I was quickly growing accustomed to Seol Ri-hyang's energy itself.
Another reason was that, by carefully feeding her the internal energy I had filtered as purely as possible every single day, Seol Ri-hyang's skill at managing internal energy was visibly improving.
"She still can't hold it for long, or use it as if it were her own… but since the purpose is merely to block the invading Yang energy for a moment, it should be fine."
"But I'm not sure this is the right thing to do. When I learned from my master, I was taught never to recklessly accept another's internal energy, nor to recklessly inject one's own into another."
"That's right. From a conventional perspective, what I'm doing is practically suicide."
"What?! Wait, it was that dangerous?!"
"I'm a special case, so it's fine."
After all, why shouldn't one accept another's internal energy? Because internal energies of different natures repel each other and wreak havoc on the meridians.
In other words, the danger lies in internal injury and Qi Deviation.
But both of those are far too familiar to me.
The internal energy of the Crazy Wolf Life-Stealing Art has the killing intent I've built up over the years fully dissolved within it. After defeating the Lord of the Black Heaven Sword Gate, there was no longer any chance of that killing intent growing denser, and I had escaped the danger of Qi Deviation.
But to put it the other way, until now, it was as if I had been living with Qi Deviation right by my side.
It's not as if Seol Ri-hyang is deliberately trying to stir up my meridians—she's just gently pushing her energy in, so there's no danger in something like this.
"So there's no need to worry."
"Ugh. If it's all right, I'd like to keep going, but… can we make it in time?"
"Make it in time for what?"
"We're preparing for the fight against the Blood Flame Fist Demon, aren't we? I'm asking whether you can get familiar enough to your desired level before then."
"That I don't know. Precisely because I don't know, I'm trying to get in as much practice as I can… no, I suppose I'll find out soon enough."
"Huh? Find out what?"
A familiar—or perhaps not quite familiar—presence could be felt from a short distance ahead. Seol Ri-hyang, whose Qi Sense didn't reach that far yet, merely tilted her head, seemingly unaware.
But I wasn't the same. It wasn't just a matter of Qi Sense range… this energy, both unpleasant and hard to look away from, was unmistakably Demonic Qi.
In these parts, there was only one person who carried Demonic Qi of this magnitude.
"Blood Flame Fist Demon."
"Why are you suddenly bringing up that name… huh?"
A sudden gust of wind shook the long branches stretching toward the riverbank. And through them, the scenery beyond came into view.
A wide, open gravel field. At its center stood the middle-aged man I had seen once before, arms crossed, waiting for us.
He was far enough away that he only registered at the very edge of my Qi Sense, but at this distance, fleeing was no longer an option.
I might be able to slip away if I were lucky, but Seol Ri-hyang was too slow on her feet to do the same.
Knowing this well, the man didn't even bother telling us not to run—he simply stood there with a relaxed smile.
It was a little amusing to see him acting so differently from when he'd spotted Seomun Hwa-rin, but the faint Aura radiating from the Blood Flame Fist Demon's entire body was unmistakably real.
Seol Ri-hyang, her expression hardening, cautiously hid behind me. Then she gently placed her hand on my back and began pushing Yin Energy into me.
The pace was slow, likely out of fear that the Blood Flame Fist Demon would notice. I opened my mouth to buy some time.
"You know, if you're going to run away, you should just crawl back home. Why are you wandering around outside so dangerously?"
"Hmph. The little one has quite the bold tongue. Well, you do have the skill to back it up. You're not going through Rejuvenation like Baekbal Nachal, are you… So you're just a genius, then. A pity, but you'll have to die. One hostage is enough."
The Blood Flame Fist Demon grinned and uncrossed his arms. He didn't seem about to fight right away, but he didn't seem inclined to drag the conversation out either.
I kept my hand on my sword hilt, ready to draw at any moment, and calmly studied the bastard.
Red hair streaked with patches of white. Perhaps due to his overflowing Yang energy, his body was packed with muscle despite his age, and his skin was a light brown, as if tanned by the sun.
On top of that, the corners of his mouth were twisted into an expression that could have been a smile or a grimace—a side effect of the Blood Flame Death Cultivation, which constantly burned through him.
He was a man with a bizarre appearance in every way.
"Whether someone lives or dies, we'll only know once we test it… But before one of us dies, there's something I want to ask. Do you think, like the Agwibu, that every martial artist deserves to die?"
"Hm? I heard that friend from the Agwibu died at the hands of the Tang Clan, but I never imagined he'd fall to a brat like you."
The Blood Flame Fist Demon clicked his tongue in disbelief, then suddenly turned serious and answered.
"That's not it. I don't think that far. …It's just that I believe things like the Nine Great Sects and One Gang, and the Five Great Families, should disappear. Aren't you the Tang Clan's son-in-law? The kid behind you can't even wear green robes, so at best he's a retainer."
"…That's right."
"A hostage is only valuable while alive. I can't take someone I'm about to kill as a hostage, so that's how it is. Blame your own talent, blame yourself for becoming the Tang Clan's son-in-law."
Yes. I knew. Of course I knew—how many times had I crossed blows with the Blood Flame Fist Demon before my regression?
The Agwibu wished for the death of all martial artists, including himself, and the erasure of all martial arts, hoping that no more martial artists would fall victim to it, and no more innocent civilians would be sacrificed to it either.
Gwimongmanyeo, though she didn't know the full details, wished for the extermination of the Sama Clan. As for other martial artists in the Central Plains, she'd kill them if necessary.
And the Blood Flame Fist Demon's goal was neither the annihilation of martial artists and martial arts, nor the destruction of the specific factions that had made his past miserable.
The Nine Great Sects and One Gang. The Five Great Families. No, to be more precise, he believed that anyone who had gained strong power, for whatever reason, should not exist.
So even if the current Nine Great Sects and One Gang and the Five Great Families were all wiped out, if a new faction began to rise and gain strength, the Blood Flame Fist Demon would without fail burn down the sprouts of that fledgling power before it could grow.
He hadn't said it out loud yet, but given the chance, he'd likely want to burn down even the Imperial Court.
What he wanted was just one thing. A rule that applied equally to everyone.
Because someone has strong martial arts, because someone has money, because someone was born into a good family, and because someone saved many people.
It is precisely this—that such reasons become a pardon that covers over one's faults—that he finds abhorrent.
As if trying to say that it is wrong for the enemy who beat his father to death to live a life of praise, and wrong that he himself is pointed at by the world's fingers even after completing a just revenge.
But there is a huge problem here.
"You speak nonsense. You said you wanted to exterminate the Nine Great Sects and One Gang and the Five Great Families? Well, your circumstances are well known, so I can roughly guess your reasons. Let's say you somehow achieve that goal. What do you think happens next?"
"What happens? I'd have to burn to death anyone who builds up more power than necessary…"
"Then you'd have to burn yourself first. Or perhaps you already are? The Demonic Art isn't called a Demonic Art for nothing."
At the mention of the side effects of the Blood Flame Death Cultivation, the Blood Flame Fist Demon's expression hardened.
"…You bastard. What do you mean by that?"
"What do you mean? Isn't it obvious? You're the Blood Flame Fist Demon, a vicious murderer who trusted in your own strength and slaughtered innocent civilians."
"Slaughtered?! Everything I did was necessary, and those were necessary sacrifices!"
"Do you really believe that?"
"…"
Of course he didn't.
He might want to deny it, but the Blood Flame Fist Demon himself knew all too well.
That at some point, he had become the same kind of person he once so despised.
It wasn't a rare thing. Like it or not, we can only live under the influence of vivid memories, and so we often become people who remind ourselves that things shouldn't have come to this.
Wasn't I now just like those unorthodox bastards who had taken my parents from me—a martial artist of the unorthodox sects who killed people for money and martial arts?
The only difference was whether one killed helpless commoners or martial artists who lived their lives prepared to die.
"So what. There's no need to be ashamed. Everyone is like that. Don't we all think we're the exception? I'd be fine. I can do it. If it were me… It's all pointless."
Agwibu wished for the death of every martial artist. This included the Heavenly Demon he believed in and followed, and even himself.
That was why, when asked such a question, he could answer without hesitation that once everything was over, he would take his own life.
But look. The Blood Flame Fist Demon was saying words he didn't even believe.
That very contradiction was the Simma he had failed to resolve, and the reason why the Blood Flame Fist Demon, who had reached Transcendent Peak over a decade ago, would still be standing in the same spot a decade from now.
As I stared silently, the Blood Flame Fist Demon answered with a calm, settled gaze. The look he'd had just moments before, as if regarding a greenhorn, had already vanished.
The Blood Flame Fist Demon spoke, his tone growing more serious.
"You seem to know quite a bit about me. How did you know I was in Hebei Province?"
"I didn't. I've simply always taken an interest in the Demonic Cult. It would be stranger still if I failed to recognize one of its most renowned Demonic Cultists simply because of his age."
"I see. Then I'm afraid I can't let you live. You would only interfere with our Great Undertaking."
The Blood Flame Fist Demon snarled, clenching his fists tightly as dark crimson flames rose from them.
Just then, as if she had finished her preparations, Seol Ri-hyang withdrew her hand from my back and stepped away.
The presence of Yin Energy settled heavily in the air. I curled the corner of my mouth into a smirk and raised my sword.
"In the end, you do the same things as anyone else. What Great Undertaking?"
Two martial artists with no intention of backing down faced each other, each drawing their weapon.
To die, or to kill.
Only one of those two endings awaited us.