Chapter 09

After finishing a fierce battle, hunger finally caught up with Namgung Cheon.

Before deciding on his next destination, he decided to take a short break and get something to eat.

The place he headed to was a small, shabby inn far removed from the bustling main streets.

Unlike the noisy, crowded establishments in the city center, this one was quiet and sparsely occupied—perfect for a peaceful meal.

There were a few customers inside, but most were drunk and paid little attention to him.

Namgung Cheon took a seat in the farthest corner.

He ordered a simple bowl of noodles in clear broth from the waiter. Just as he was about to lift his chopsticks—

Bang!

The inn’s door burst open.

A man with a saber strapped to his back rushed inside, his face flushed with excitement.

He hurried over to a swordsman who appeared to be one of his companions and shouted,

“Have you heard? Sect Master Gwak of the Thunderbolt Gate has entered secluded cultivation!”

The swordsman, who had been sipping his drink, frowned in confusion.

“Secluded cultivation? Why would he suddenly do that? He’s the greatest saber master in Anhui.”

“Because the Third Young Master of the Namgung Clan personally challenged him to a duel!”

“What?”

The swordsman burst into laughter.

“Haha! You’ve had too much to drink. That young master challenged the Thunderbolt Saber? At least make your lies believable.”

The surrounding martial artists also snickered and shook their heads.

Namgung Cheon.

Though he had recently received two legendary swords, throughout Hefei he was still known as the disgrace of Sword Emperor Namgung Mugang.

But the saber wielder clicked his tongue in frustration and raised his voice.

“I’m telling you, I confirmed it through someone I know at the Thunderbolt Gate! The rumors say Sect Master Gwak lost in a single exchange!”

“What?”

“In one move…?”

The atmosphere inside the small inn changed instantly.

The ridicule vanished, replaced by shock and disbelief.

Amid the commotion, Namgung Cheon calmly brought a mouthful of noodles to his lips.

As he chewed, he thought,

The rumors are spreading faster than I expected.

It had only been about two hours since he left the Thunderbolt Gate.

Yet the story had already reached even a remote inn like this.

I should leave before it becomes troublesome.

Ignoring the growing uproar, he quietly finished every last strand of noodles and rose from his seat.

He left a few coins on the table and departed without hesitation.

It was time to seek his next opponent.

Thunderbolt Saber Gwak San wasn’t bad.

But his martial arts were merely those of a typical orthodox sect.

Orthodox techniques followed clear structures and patterns, making them easier to dismantle.

This time, I should face someone a bit more vicious.

A figure whose swordsmanship was the exact opposite of Gwak San’s surfaced in his mind.

A Killing Sword…

A cold smile appeared on Namgung Cheon’s lips.

That should be entertaining.

Leaving the bustling center of Hefei behind, he walked silently along the deserted outskirts toward a massive estate.

Blood Sword Brigade

The Blood Sword Brigade ruled the underworld of Hefei.

Though their headquarters appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary estate, everyone knew better than to enter its grounds carelessly.

And now, Namgung Cheon stood before its main gate.

His luxurious robes and the two famous swords hanging at his waist made it obvious he was no ordinary man.

The guards approached him.

A trace of mockery flickered across their faces.

In the martial world, dual-wielding swords was notoriously difficult.

Most people who attempted it were considered all talk and no skill.

Still… those clothes don’t look cheap.

The guards maintained their caution.

“Who are you? Outsiders are not permitted here.”

Namgung Cheon replied indifferently.

“I came to meet your leader.”

“The leader?”

The guards looked puzzled.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Then turn back. Without an appointment, you cannot meet him.”

Their tone became increasingly firm.

Yet Namgung Cheon showed no sign of leaving.

In the same indifferent voice, he repeated,

“I came to meet your leader. Move aside.”

The arrogant attitude finally exhausted their patience.

“This bastard! We tried being polite!”

Shing!

The two guards simultaneously drew their swords.

At that moment—

Flash!

A streak of sword light cut through the air.

Slash!

“AAAAAH!”

“My arm! My arm!”

Blood-curdling screams erupted.

Their right wrists flew through the air.

Blood sprayed from the severed stumps.

The hands still gripping swords rolled across the dirt.

Before anyone realized what had happened, Namgung Cheon’s sword had already returned to its sheath.

He looked coldly at the writhing guards clutching their mangled arms.

“I’ll say it one more time.”

His voice remained calm.

“I came to meet your leader.”

At that moment—

Creeeak…

The massive gates slowly opened.

Dozens of martial artists stood inside, glaring at him with murderous eyes.

Parting the crowd, a man in black robes stepped forward.

Blood Ghost Sword Gal Museong.

The leader of the Blood Sword Brigade.

His gaze swept over his injured subordinates before settling on Namgung Cheon.

His eyes narrowed.

A handsome face.

Expensive clothing.

He looks familiar…

His eyes shifted naturally to the two swords at Namgung Cheon’s waist.

The moment he saw them, realization struck.

Two swords… the Third Young Master who defeated Thunderbolt Saber!

Gal Museong swallowed unconsciously.

Forcing a smile onto his face, he said,

“Well, well. If it isn’t the honored young master of the Namgung Clan. What brings someone of your status to a place like this?”

Without changing expression, Namgung Cheon answered,

“I heard that no one who has seen Blood Ghost Sword’s blade has ever returned alive. I came to see whether that rumor is true.”

“My sword?”

Gal Museong laughed incredulously.

“So the rumors about Gwak San were true after all.”

His eyes sharpened instantly.

“This isn’t a place for orthodox young masters to play at fame. Unless…”

Namgung Cheon cut him off.

“This is my personal affair. It has nothing to do with the Namgung Clan.”

His voice remained calm.

“The Namgung Clan will bear no responsibility for whatever happens here. Nor will I.”

The declaration caused Gal Museong’s expression to stiffen.

“…Very well.”

His voice dropped low.

A foolish youth who had come alone, staking his own life.

There was no reason to hesitate.

“Let’s see how long that confidence lasts. Follow me.”

With that, he turned and walked deeper into the estate.

Namgung Cheon silently followed.

The Training Ground

A spacious training field.

The two men stood facing one another five zhang apart.

By now, Blood Sword Brigade members had gathered around the arena.

They fully expected to watch their leader crush the young master of the Namgung Clan.

Gal Museong slowly drew his sword.

Shing—

As he adjusted his grip, he calmly analyzed the situation.

Why would a Namgung come here personally to provoke me?

He couldn’t understand it.

Even if the rumors were true and the boy had defeated Gwak San, there was no way someone raised in comfort could handle a genuine Killing Sword.

There must be some hidden motive. Doesn’t matter.

He would simply demonstrate the difference in their levels and send the boy home.

“Let’s begin.”

At Gal Museong’s words, Namgung Cheon nodded lightly and drew Changcheon.

The instant the blade emerged—

Whoosh!

Gal Museong moved.

His sword shot toward Namgung Cheon’s left flank.

Tap.

With a single step, Namgung Cheon rendered the attack meaningless.

Gal Museong didn’t stop.

His attacks became increasingly relentless.

Gradually, the distinctive style of an unorthodox martial artist emerged.

Every strike targeted a vital point.

Each move was a deadly killing blow that would instantly kill an ordinary expert.

Yet every sword strike altered its path just before reaching Namgung Cheon’s body.

He was intentionally trying to force him to retreat.

But—

Boring.

Namgung Cheon thought.

He’s only pretending to aim for vital points. He’s trying to scare me off and send me away.

How ridiculous.

To approach a duel with such thoughts.

Avoiding another attack with ease, he muttered,

“Is this all you’ve got?”

“…!”

Gal Museong’s eyes shook violently.

Not only had this boy seen through his intentions completely, but he was treating the swordsmanship he had devoted his entire life to as a mere performance.

Killing intent surged within him.

He wanted nothing more than to cut off that arrogant head.

Yet he forced himself to remain calm.

Control yourself. He’s a direct descendant of the Namgung Clan. Killing him will bring consequences.

Then he remembered Namgung Cheon’s words at the entrance.

The Namgung Clan would take no responsibility.

Perhaps the clan would interfere later.

Perhaps not.

But at the very least, the boy had publicly declared that he had come here of his own free will.

That statement alone would become a perfect justification if trouble arose afterward.

I can kill him… and still have a way out.

The moment that calculation finished—

The final restraint on his reason shattered.

Humiliation and opportunity fused together.

His hesitation disappeared completely.

Kill him.

Fwoosh—

A crimson sword aura began to rise from Gal Museong’s blade like blood-red mist.

“You’ll regret those words.”

Boom!

With a powerful stomp, he launched himself forward.

His sword struck with a speed and weight completely different from before.

Clang!

For the first time, Namgung Cheon raised Changcheon and blocked.

The collision of steel echoed throughout the training ground.

Now this is a little more interesting.

The murderous aura radiating from Gal Museong finally stimulated every nerve in his body.

This was genuine killing intent forged through countless battles and rivers of blood.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Gal Museong abandoned all pretense of a duel.

His ultimate art—the true form of the Blood Wind Sword Technique.

No fixed forms.

No elegant patterns.

Only pure instinct designed for one purpose:

To kill.

The storm of sword strikes engulfed Namgung Cheon.

This time, Namgung Cheon stopped dodging.

Clang! Kang!

He met every attack head-on with Changcheon.

And then—

The corner of his mouth slowly rose.

I don’t need to hold back anymore.

Clang!

With a casual swing, he knocked Gal Museong’s sword aside and forced him backward.

Then, before everyone’s eyes—

He slowly sheathed Changcheon.

Click.

Gal Museong froze for a brief moment, unable to understand the meaning of that action.

Namgung Cheon’s hand moved toward the sword on his opposite hip.

Shing—

A pitch-black blade emerged.

A sword that seemed capable of devouring all light.

Mukhon.

The dark sword finally revealed itself.