Chapter 10
Jacheon Pavilion
Inside Jacheon Pavilion, the largest tower within the Namgung Clan estate, Zhuge Hwa held a teacup as she gazed out the window.
Beyond it stretched countless rooftops and the bustling scenery of Hefei in the distance.
Yet her eyes were fixed not on the landscape before her, but somewhere much farther away.
“…The Blood Sword Division.”
At her quiet murmur, Namgung Un—the chief steward standing behind her like a shadow—felt his shoulders tremble ever so slightly.
He had just delivered fresh intelligence gathered through the clan’s information network.
“Yes. He headed straight for the Blood Sword Division, but…”
Concern was evident in Namgung Un’s voice.
Following Zhuge Hwa’s orders, he had not placed anyone to directly shadow Namgung Cheon.
However, keeping track of his movements through the clan’s extensive intelligence network spread throughout Hefei was not difficult.
And every report that came back was something beyond comprehension.
Visiting the Thunderbolt Sect—a respectable orthodox sect—and subduing its sect master, Gwak San, was one thing.
At least that could be explained away by assuming he had been hiding his abilities all this time.
But the Blood Sword Division as his next destination?
“Blood Ghost Sword Gal Museong… He chose Gwak San as his first opponent, and now that man. He has a good eye.”
Still looking out the window, Zhuge Hwa spoke as if discussing a complete stranger.
Namgung Un could not understand her calm demeanor.
Unable to hold back any longer, he stepped forward and spoke.
“More than ten orthodox experts have already fallen beneath Gal Museong’s sword. He is not a man who understands honor. Under the guise of a duel, he may resort to any despicable method. The Third Young Master may… find himself in grave danger.”
After a brief hesitation, he continued.
“Even now, if we dispatch some clan warriors—”
“Have you forgotten my order?”
Before he could finish, an icy voice cut him off.
Zhuge Hwa slowly turned her head toward him.
Faced with that chilling gaze, Namgung Un instinctively lowered his head.
“My apologies.”
“I said no one was to interfere. This matter is no exception.”
She turned her gaze back to the window.
“He chose this path himself. If he walked into a land of death of his own accord, then he must bear the consequences himself.”
“…”
“If he cannot return alive, then that is simply the limit of his vessel. He declared he wanted no one’s interference, so he must take responsibility for it.”
Namgung Un bit his lip.
He could not bring himself to say another word.
The Acting Clan Head’s decisions were always correct.
Yet this time, it felt unbearably harsh.
“If a man of the Namgung Clan, the son of the Sword Emperor, is only capable of that much… then nothing can be done.”
The path of the strong had always been that way.
Zhuge Hwa thought quietly to herself.
Her husband, the Sword Emperor Namgung Mugang, had likewise crossed countless lands of death alone before reaching his current position.
With nothing but a sword in hand.
His son would be no different.
If anything, the standards should be even harsher.
Silence settled over the pavilion.
Namgung Un sensed it was time to withdraw.
Just as he bowed and turned to leave—
“However… if.”
Zhuge Hwa spoke softly while still gazing out the window.
A faint smile touched her lips.
“If he walks out of that place without a single scratch, then perhaps I truly will have to change my mind.”
Her eyes deepened more than ever before.
Until now, she had viewed Namgung Cheon as a lost lamb.
A child who had lost his way and required protection within his mother’s shelter.
But if he emerged from the Blood Sword Division unscathed…
Then everything would change.
It would mean that the wolf disguised as a lamb had finally revealed its true nature and begun its hunt.
If he returned alive, she would have no choice but to acknowledge it.
What I released into the wilderness was not a lost lamb…
But a starving wolf.
* * *
The moment Mukhon was drawn, the atmosphere of the training ground grew heavy.
Gal Museong felt a chill run down his spine.
That sword… is dangerous.
His survival instincts screamed a warning.
Yet even more dangerous than the sword was the man holding it.
“So now you finally intend to kill me.”
Namgung Cheon spoke quietly.
At that moment, Gal Museong realized the truth.
Everything had been within his opponent’s palm from the very beginning.
Namgung Cheon had perfectly seen through the fact that Gal Museong had originally not intended to kill him—but now did.
And despite knowing that, he looked at him with complete indifference.
It was unmistakable contempt.
The humiliation snapped the last thread of Gal Museong’s reason.
“You bastard! I’ll tear you apart!”
With a furious roar, he charged once more.
The crimson sword aura pouring from his blade was far more sinister and concentrated than before.
A pure killing sword meant only to take lives.
Seeing this, a slight smile appeared on Namgung Cheon’s lips.
Different from Gwak San.
Gwak San’s blade had been too honest.
But Gal Museong was different.
Unwavering killing intent.
A sword honed solely for murder.
The pure struggle stirred faint memories from his previous life and made his blood boil.
Yes. This is what I wanted.
Namgung Cheon did not avoid the fight.
KANG—!
Swinging Mukhon, he met the incoming Blood Ghost Sword head-on.
A deafening metallic explosion shook the training ground.
“And you think this is enough to kill someone?”
Even amid the fierce exchange, Namgung Cheon remained relaxed, continuing to provoke him.
“Shut up!”
Gal Museong lost himself completely and attacked with even greater ferocity.
His sword followed no established forms.
Driven solely by instinct, it struck relentlessly at Namgung Cheon’s vital points.
He used every ounce of his experience and senses.
Feigning openings.
Offering his shoulder as bait.
Resorting to every trick imaginable.
A battle fought with the willingness to perish together.
This is my fight!
Gal Museong’s Blood Wind Sword Art was survival itself.
There was no honor.
No dignity.
Only deception, cutting, and killing.
CLANG! BOOM!
Their swords collided dozens, then hundreds of times, scattering sparks across the training ground.
The Blood Sword Division members watched in silence.
They had never seen their leader fight so desperately.
On the surface, the battle seemed evenly matched.
No one could predict the outcome.
I can win this!
After hundreds of exchanges, arrogance began to sprout within Gal Museong.
No matter if Namgung Cheon had defeated Gwak San.
Surely he would eventually crumble before his sword.
But that confidence soon turned into despair.
What kind of nonsense is this…?
Gal Museong was horrified.
Every attack he launched was blocked by that strange black sword, unable to advance even an inch.
Worse still, whenever their blades collided, an ominous and bizarre force flowing from Mukhon seemed to disrupt his internal energy.
The killing sword he had honed through a lifetime of slaughter and battle was being rendered powerless.
Since reaching the Peak Realm, he had never felt such overwhelming humiliation.
He could not accept it.
“Die!”
Gal Museong poured out even more internal energy and slashed diagonally.
BOOOOM—!
Namgung Cheon blocked the strike.
And at that moment, his movements changed.
Until now, he had fought purely on the defensive.
For the first time, he attacked.
The swordsmanship of Mukhon was completely different from when he wielded Changcheon.
Simple.
Efficient.
He deflected attacks with the smallest possible movements and struck instantly into the opening created.
CLANG! SWISH—!
As he knocked aside Gal Museong’s sword, Mukhon sliced across his shoulder.
It was not deep.
But his robe tore apart and blood sprayed into the air.
“Urgh!”
More than the pain, Gal Museong was shocked by the fact that he had been wounded.
“You’re surprised by something like this? I’ve only just begun.”
Namgung Cheon’s voice was as cold as ice.
His offensive had only begun.
The trajectories of Mukhon grew increasingly strange and unpredictable.
Gal Museong desperately swung his sword to defend.
Yet the more he blocked, the more he felt himself sinking into a vast swamp.
His opponent saw through every move he made.
Meanwhile, he could not predict where the next strike would come from.
Slice.
Small wounds began appearing across his body.
His cheek was cut.
His thigh torn open.
The scent of blood filled the training ground.
The faces of the Blood Sword Division members turned pale.
Their leader was being completely toyed with.
“Is this all?”
Namgung Cheon’s voice echoed throughout the arena.
Then his stance changed ever so slightly.
Until now, Mukhon’s attacks had been short and concise.
Now, for the first time, its tip pointed directly at Gal Museong’s throat.
Namgung Cheon assumed the opening stance of the Boundless Heavenly Sky Sword Art.
But what radiated from it was not the aura of the Namgung Clan.
It was an overwhelmingly aggressive and domineering force that sought to destroy and devour everything.
A sword art uniquely reinterpreted by Namgung Cheon himself.
“You were the one who used a killing sword first. So you have no right to complain.”
The pressure of that aura forced Gal Museong to instinctively step backward.
But it was already too late.
Namgung Cheon’s body transformed into a streak of black light that tore through space.
SWISH—!
A speed beyond the eye’s ability to follow.
Gal Museong sensed danger and instinctively raised his sword to block.
But then—
The dark blue energy flickering around Mukhon slowly took shape.
“…Sword Qi?!”
The blade, now wrapped in dark-blue Sword Gang, ignored his defense entirely and curved toward his neck along an impossible trajectory.
The Transcendent Realm?!
That was the final thought to flash through Gal Museong’s mind.
Then—
Slice.
The sound of something being severed echoed through the arena.
Silence followed.
Namgung Cheon now stood behind Gal Museong.
Drip. Drip.
Drops of blood slid down Mukhon’s blade.
Behind him stood Gal Museong, frozen in place.
Then, a moment later—
Thud.
With a small sound,
Gal Museong’s head rolled across the ground.
