*Clang!*
“Ugh!!!”
Ma Hoe-mun of the Lethal Sword, who had rushed to stop Mujin from carving through the warriors, managed to block only a single strike. The force of the swift sword vibrated through his grip, forcing him back with a groan.
‘How can he wield such a large sword like that?’
A master who could send a peak expert reeling with a single blow, yet he swung his sword as if a child at play.
Only now did Ma Hoe-mun feel the true weight of the title, Hidden Dragon of Sichuan.
‘This is dangerous.’
The Orthodox Faction’s strike team, which was just beginning to form and head for Guizhou, was not the problem.
A sense of crisis filled his mind—the fear that they might all become sacrifices today, fodder for a young master who would carve his name into the annals of the martial world.
*”Brother! I think we need to retreat for now.”*
Of the 150 warriors, more than thirty percent had already become corpses.
The blood they shed flowed and pooled, forming a crimson river within the compound.
Despite his cousin’s telepathic message, Ma So-chu gathered his energy and shook his head.
*”Retreat? Where would we go! My men are all dying! Today, either he dies or I die. One of us will not leave this place alive!”*
With that final message, Ma So-chu charged toward Mujin.
Seeing this, Ma Hoe-mun and the other two elders had no choice but to follow, their swords aimed at Mujin.
*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
“Ugh!”
“Hah…”
“This is…”
“…”
But the four masters who had charged through the warriors failed to block more than three of Mujin’s strikes.
*Slash! Swish!*
As soon as the four peak experts fell back, the warriors began to die once more.
The hearts of the Sect Leader and elders were devastated as they watched their sect’s warriors being slaughtered before their eyes.
“Kuaaaargh!!”
“Gyaaaaaaaah!!”
“My leg!!!”
Warriors who weren’t killed in a single blow writhed on the ground, screaming as their limbs were severed. The Sect Leader and elders gritted their teeth and charged at Mujin again.
*”I’ll hold him from the front somehow. You three, take the left, right, and rear, and attack simultaneously!”*
Ma Hoe-mun said this as he threw three daggers, hidden in his robes, at Mujin.
*Clang! Clang! Clang!*
But, as expected, his daggers were easily deflected by Mujin’s sword.
In fact, the deflected daggers struck down three of their own warriors, making the attack worse than useless.
“Move aside!”
Ma Hoe-mun shouted, thrusting his sword forward as he advanced through the parting warriors.
Even as the peak expert’s sharp blade approached, Mujin continued to swing his sword, cutting down the warriors along with their own blades.
Just as Ma Hoe-mun’s sword was about to pierce Mujin’s back, Mujin spun around, raising his two-handed sword above his head.
Nine Swords of Dugu, Sixth Form. One Sword Splits the Water Moon.
The moment the sword form—said to be able to split even the moon’s reflection on water—descended, Ma Hoe-mun instinctively realized that Mujin’s technique had changed.
His instincts screamed at him to drop his sword and retreat.
But he also knew that if he backed down now, the two elders and the Sect Leader charging toward Mujin would be in danger.
‘I’ll kill him, even if I die.’
Tightening his grip, Ma Hoe-mun did not retract his sword to block or retreat. Instead, he thrust forward even faster.
The moment he resolved to strike first and kill.
His vision split vertically down the middle—an experience he’d never had before—and a question filled his mind.
*Splurt!*
Mujin lunged through the space created by Ma Hoe-mun, who had been split in two by a single strike.
*Swish! Schlick!*
A shallow cut grazed his right shoulder and left side, while a deep gash opened on his back, sending a searing pain through him.
He could feel the hot stream of blood flowing down his sliced back, but Mujin paid it no mind, cutting down the warriors in front of him before turning around.
Had he moved a fraction of a second slower, he would have been killed by the swords of the three masters thrusting at him.
This time, Mujin met the three charging peak experts, their eyes filled with killing intent, by extending his sword to the side.
Nine Swords of Dugu, Seventh Form. One Sword Splits the Earth.
The earth itself shall part before my sword. Having cut the earth, I am no longer bound by size.
The interpretation of the sword form was absurd, but he had come to understand it upon completing two cycles of internal energy.
‘There is nothing in this world I cannot cut.’
Mujin charged toward the three masters, who were swinging their swords and releasing streams of sword energy, and drew his own blade horizontally.
The three masters and Mujin passed each other and then stood still.
Even the relentlessly attacking warriors held their breath and stopped to watch, stunned by the instantaneous exchange.
“Hidden Dragon of Sichuan…”
*Thud.*
*Thud.*
*Thud.*
With those as his final words, the Sect Leader collapsed, his intestines spilling out as his body split in two. At the same time, the other two elders fell in the same manner.
…
Watching Mujin, who had killed four peak experts in a coordinated attack with just two moves, the remaining warriors finally felt a cold chill run down their spines.
Looking around, they saw that more than half of their comrades were dead, their bodies mangled, and the ground was soaked with their blood.
“W-we can’t win…”
“R-run!”
Someone shouted it. But Mujin, having infused his sword with a tremendous amount of energy, simply swung it through the air.
*Fwoooosh!*
In an instant, his sword energy killed or grievously wounded a dozen more warriors, who collapsed to the ground.
“Not a single martial artist of the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect will leave here alive.”
From then on, it was a one-sided slaughter.
He fired sword energy at the backs of fleeing enemies, cutting them in two, and without a moment’s hesitation, beheaded those who dropped their swords and begged for their lives on their knees.
“P-please…”
*Stab!*
“Keuk!”
Mujin thrust his sword into the chest of the last remaining warrior, who had lost a leg, then twisted and pulled it out.
“Hoo.”
A sigh escaped Mujin’s lips after he had killed every last martial artist.
“Hiiik!”
“P-please spare us!”
The servants of the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect, who had witnessed the massacre from the beginning, began to beg with their hands clasped together.
“I do not kill non-martial artists. The fire is starting to spread, so you should all get out.”
The flames Mujin had started had already engulfed one of the buildings and were beginning to spread to the surrounding structures.
After telling the civilians to flee, Mujin severed the head of the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect’s leader and began to walk, carrying it with him.
The people glanced between the hellish scene and Mujin, then began to flee one by one.
Black smoke and flames billowed up from the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect, and countless people fled from the compound.
But among them, there was not a single martial artist.
Outside the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect, a crowd had already gathered, murmuring as they watched the sect burn.
Then, Mujin emerged, having pulled up the sect’s flagpole and impaled the Sect Leader’s head upon it.
*Gasp!*
“Ugh… Isn’t that a head?”
“Oh, heavens!”
People turned away or covered their children’s eyes in shock as they saw Mujin carrying a flagpole with a severed head on it.
Covered in dark red blood, Mujin carried the flagpole out and plunged it into the main road in front of the burning Moon-Slaying Sword Sect.
*Thwack!*
The wooden flagpole sank deep into the stone-paved road, and the words Mujin had written in blood on the white flag unfurled.
Yeomhwa’s Vengeance.
Seeing the four characters scrawled in blood, the people felt their hearts sink in shock.
The sight of Mujin planting the flagpole was utterly chilling.
The whites of his eyes, visible whenever he turned his blood-soaked face, were terrifying to behold.
Having planted the flagpole, Mujin turned his back on the flame-engulfed Moon-Slaying Sword Sect and began to walk. The crowd parted, clearing a path for him.
When he returned to the inn where he had first stabled his horse, the attendant working there was startled.
“I left my horse with you earlier.”
“Ah… Yes! Yes! It’s been well-fed and rested.”
Mujin tossed another gold coin from his robes and said.
“I need a bath, and if there’s a physician nearby, please fetch him. Lastly, could you bring me a set of martial arts robes?”
“O-of course! I’ll have it all ready immediately!”
Mujin soaked himself in the bath the attendant had prepared in his room’s washroom, rinsing off the caked-on blood several times.
When he finished his bath, a young physician was waiting for him in the room.
Rumors of the bloodbath at the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect had already spread like wildfire throughout Piljeol.
And the physician was well aware that the young martial artist before him was the Hidden Dragon of Sichuan, the one responsible for that bloodbath.
In the corner of the room stood a massive iron sword, still stained with blood, its metallic scent permeating the air.
“Are you the physician?”
The physician nodded at Mujin’s question.
“Yes! I-I was told you were looking for me…”
Seeing the man trembling, Mujin spoke.
“No need to be so afraid. I don’t cut down those who aren’t my enemies. Please stitch up this back, shoulder, and side.”
With that, Mujin turned his back, revealing a long, deep gash.
The physician hastily took out his needle and thread and began stitching Mujin’s wound.
“Sh-should I apply acupuncture?”
“No need. The internal injuries aren’t severe enough that I can’t heal them myself, and the bleeding has already stopped.”
The physician nodded at Mujin’s words.
After stitching the wounds on his shoulder and side, he stood up.
“You should take your payment.”
“I-it’s fine!”
More than two hundred people had died at the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect today.
Fearing he might suffer a terrible fate if he accepted payment, the startled physician hurried to leave, but Mujin instantly appeared before him and pressed a gold coin into his hand.
“I was taught not to cheat a man who practices medicine. A man who takes lives like me would be cursed by the heavens if I were to cheat a man who saves lives like you.”
“Th-thank you.”
“You may go. You must be busy.”
The physician bowed his head and left the room without a backward glance.
Then, a voice was heard.
“May I come in?”
“Enter.”
When the attendant entered the room, he saw Mujin sitting naked on the bed.
The attendant gulped, looking at the sword scars covering his entire body.
The sight of the fresh wounds and stitches was frightening.
“I-I hope these clothes are to your liking…”
“Robes are robes.”
Mujin casually put on the clothes the attendant offered and spoke.
“Bring me a dry cloth to wipe my sword and another to wrap the blade. Cheap cotton will do.”
“Yes!”
A moment later, the attendant returned with dry cotton cloths for wiping and wrapping the sword.
He carefully offered a bottle of white liquor as well.
“I-I heard this is good for cleaning off dried blood…”
“Thank you.”
Mujin poured the liquor over his sword and wiped the blood clean.
Then he wrapped the blade in cloth and stood up.
“Bring out my horse.”
“Yes!”
Less than six hours after arriving in Piljeol, he was on his way out.
After he left, the town of Piljeol buzzed with talk of the Hidden Dragon of Sichuan.
And why wouldn’t it?
The Moon-Slaying Sword Sect, one of the Thirty Families of Samu-cheon that had reigned over Piljeol for twenty years, had been annihilated by a single martial artist in just four hours.
Leaving the bustling town of Piljeol behind, Mujin rode on.
Three days after the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect burned.
The strike team, which had ridden day and night without rest, stared at the charred remains of the sect with bewildered expressions.
They were about to draw their swords and open the gates of slaughter for the first time in thirty years.
It was a difficult decision made after the War Against the Divine Demon.
A dangerous battle that could potentially escalate into a full-blown war between the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions.
Nevertheless, they had steeled their resolve and ridden with grim determination.
But the sect they had come to fight was nothing but a pile of ash.
“What is this…? Don’t tell me they abandoned their base and fled?”
An elder from the Mount Hua Sect who had rushed over answered the Poison Emperor’s question.
“That doesn’t seem to be the case. Three days ago, a single martial artist reportedly killed everyone in the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect and then set it on fire.”
“A-a single person? Who was it?”
“That would be… Family Head Hwa Mujin of the Yeomhwa Family.”
“…”
At the mention of Mujin’s name, the Poison Emperor was speechless.
“Family Head Hwa… Why would he do this alone…?”
When Abbess Myeolju of the Emei Sect asked, the elder from Mount Hua replied.
“It seems the Moon-Slaying Sword Sect attacked the Yeomhwa Family during the Orthodox Grand Tournament.”
Hearing that the attack occurred while Mujin was away, the Orthodox Faction members present let out sighs of lament.
“And… that flagpole over there was also planted by Family Head Hwa…”
Only then did everyone’s gaze shift from the ashes to the flagpole planted in the middle of the road.
As their eyes traveled up the pole, they all grimaced at the gruesome sight.
Below a rotting head swarming with dozens of flies, a flag hung limply, inscribed with black characters.
The Poison Emperor gestured lightly toward the flag, and a gust of wind caused it to unfurl.
The unfurled flag revealed the black characters.
“Yeomhwa’s Vengeance…!!”
