Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Promise

Jeong-un glanced sidelong at Baek Il-gang, who was now a step ahead of him.

'Is he angry?'

Even though a smile was curled at his lips, there was a strange sense of wrath emanating from him.

The energy that always wrapped around him so lightly was now rippling like a mirage.

Compared to how well he usually managed his internal energy, this was an unexpected sight.

Baek Il-gang was like this at times. He loathed those who oppressed the common people.

Jeong-un guessed that his distaste for the great sects of the martial world stemmed from similar reasons.

"......"

Meanwhile, a brief silence hung in the air within the area.

The foe couldn't accept the reality of what had just occurred right beside them.

But the same could be said for this side as well—everyone's eyes were wide as if something might pop out, mouths agape.

Only moments later did the enemy each let out a word.

"Wh-what!"

"I didn't even see him throw it...."

"There was someone like that?!"

Then, instinctively, they exchanged glances with each other.

Their leader, previously the focal point of the group, was dead.

Since the one who issued commands had disappeared, it seemed they were waiting for someone else to make a decision.

Seeing this, Baek Il-gang opened his mouth slowly.

"What are you hesitating for?"

"......?"

"You're all going to die anyway. At least, I was going to tell one of you how to survive."

"What does that—..."

At those words, one of them muttered. A way to survive?

The others all wore equally puzzled faces.

Then, it seemed they recalled something Baek Il-gang had said earlier, and their eyes gathered toward one spot.

Toward the space between the dead man's brows.

"......"

One of them flinched.

Then, realizing what he had instinctively tried to do, his expression twisted in a grimace.

Still, not one of them made a further move.

These were people who had always lived taking orders from someone else.

It must have been exceedingly rare for them to ever make a decision on their own.

'Heh.'

Jeong-un was secretly impressed. The opponents numbered nine. There had been ten in total before one died.

Yet, by killing only one, Baek Il-gang had completely seized control of the situation and crushed their morale.

Even if a fight broke out, the psychological blow would greatly affect the outcome.

'So this is how it's done.'

Jeong-un closely observed Baek Il-gang's style in combat.

It seemed like a valuable experience, perhaps useful in the future.

At that moment, a man standing right beside the one who was killed — the one with a hole between his brows — shouted.

"H-he doesn't have a weapon! He's empty-handed! The rest of them must be nobodies! Especially that kid!"

The man's gaze turned toward Jeong-un.

"......?"

Jeong-un looked at him in bewilderment.

"That fresh-faced brat is acting as a guard for them! Don't be fooled by that bluffing!"

Beside him, Baek Il-gang's laughter rang out. Jeong-un didn't turn his head.

Tap!

Instead, without a word, he kicked off the dirt floor and charged forward.

Ki was already coursing rapidly through his body, circulating through his meridians.

Following the movement of his body, true ki moved with him, producing swift power.

Without breaking his momentum, he lightly extended his hand.

Slice!

He cleanly sliced through the noisy man's neck.

The head tilted gently to the side, almost as if it had been delicately cut.

The lively facial features, so animated just a moment ago, were still there in death.

With that, the fight began.

"Kill him!"

"You son of a bitch!"

Crude curses erupted from all directions along with bursts of vital ki.

These were foes who could handle internal energy, just as reports had said.

All kinds of weapons charged with true ki came flying at him with all their might.

Yet Jeong-un gazed upon this scene calmly.

He had already fought far too many extraordinary slashes to feel threatened by something like this.

He ducked his body, parrying two, three swords at once.

Clang!

At the same time, he twisted aside to dodge a fiercely descending axe.

Without even turning his head, he spun and swung his sword horizontally.

Swish!

The head of the man wielding the axe soared into the air. His face didn't even have time to show surprise.

"Die!"

Immediately, a sword lunged at him like a bolt of lightning from the side.

It seemed at least one of them could pull off an extraordinary slash.

Ssshhh.

By now, the flow of true ki running through the meridians of his hand was familiar to Jeong-un.

He conjured true ki into his left hand.

It was still too immature to be called the recommended method.

But at this level, it was effective enough. He thrust it straight towards the approaching blade.

Crack!

He caught the oncoming sword barehanded.

No matter how extraordinary the slash, this opponent's skill was completely visible to Jeong-un's eyes.

"......!"

"......!"

In an instant, the area froze.

To grab a sword imbued with true ki barehanded? In their lifetimes, this was an impossible feat.

"E-external martial arts?!"

'What are they talking about?'

It was nonsense.

This didn't even count as true external techniques.

In fact, external martial arts was a completely different discipline, utilizing true ki in an entirely separate manner.

This was just a matter of the difference in internal energy density.

The density that allowed the enemies to act like superhuman was clearly pitiful.

Huff!

Jeong-un yanked the sword by the blade.

"U-uh...!"

The foe was pulled forward by the hand gripping his sword guard.

Jeong-un released the sword and struck the man's face with his elbow.

Crunch─!

The area where the nose had been caved inward, and then even the eye sockets collapsed as if smashed apart.

The man's face was entirely ruined.

Thump.

He toppled limply next to Jeong-un. The other foes, who had been poised to surge at him, hesitated briefly.

In this odd stillness, Jeong-un opened his mouth.

"What are you doing?"

"......?"

"You're all going to die anyway. Do something while you still can."

"......!"

"Pick up your weapons. Keep going."

He swept his gaze over their faces indifferently.

"Y-you madman."

"Where did a monster like this come from?"

"There was someone like this in the Jeongmu Sect...!"

"... No, that can't be!"

Then, as if a thought had struck him, one of the men suddenly shouted.

"The Heavenly Martial Hall! They're the ones who came from the Heavenly Martial Hall!"

"What!"

Chaos broke out immediately among the remaining men. Many took several steps back.

Such was the level of their shock.

"Shit, why are those guys here?!"

"They must be in disguise!"

"Why are you here? The scout said you were defending the village!"

Then, they looked at Jeong-un with faces full of blame. Anyone looking might have thought this side had pulled some devious trick.

'Are they crazy?'

These were the sorts of people who traveled the martial world with swords at their belts—even having killed many to steal treasure.

Yet, when it was their turn to die, they wore aggrieved faces. It was beyond absurd.

"Let's run! This is impossible!"

"This isn't how we planned it!"

The men milled about in confusion amid the corpses of their companions scattered everywhere.

Just then, a blast of vital ki shot out from the side.

With a whoosh, as the wind breezed by, one man's face caved in instantly.

Thud!

It was Baek Il-gang, delivering a powerful kick to a man's chin. It truly sounded as if a rock had shattered.

"......"

Jeong-un regarded him with a curious eye. Even the sudden drawing and throwing of a sword had been an unanticipated move.

But now, this time it was a kick?

And his form was good, too. The more he watched, the more unusual Baek Il-gang's fighting style seemed.

"These guys are hilarious, aren't they?"

Baek Il-gang spoke, scorn coloring his smile.

"They act like the battle's already over—do you really think I'll let you go just because you start backing away? Just how easy must your lives have been in those pitiful bodies for you to think that?"

Then, he moved toward the man next to him.

"Uh, uh..."

The man flinched and began to tremble.

He must've had just enough training to circulate internal energy through his modest meridians.

Even so, he couldn't move his feet properly.

Crunch!

Soon, another man's head shattered and he collapsed.

Baek Il-gang turned, the blood of his victims still on his hands.

"Ah, aaah!"

"Run!"

Everything after that felt anticlimactic. Jeong-un and Baek Il-gang cut down the remaining men one by one.

In their panic and flight, none could even muster internal energy into their feet.

It was enough to make one doubt whether these were really the men who had slaughtered so many before.

Then—

"H-here! Over here!"

The last man suddenly knelt and held out his sword toward Baek Il-gang.

"...... Heh."

Even Baek Il-gang, who'd worn a calm face until now, let out a hollow laugh.

That's how ludicrous and ridiculous the scene was.

"You—You said you'd spare the one who brought a sword...! Please, I beg you...!"

Is this what all men of the Dark Path are like?

Stories say they worship the law of the strongest—maybe this was their natural state after all.

Jeong-un closed his mouth and silently looked down at the man, then met Baek Il-gang's eyes, who was now looking at him.

"......"

It was an expression asking for permission.

Clearly, he was asking the two-striped warrior for leave.

Jeong-un nodded quietly. Baek Il-gang raised his lips smoothly and looked the man in the eyes.

"That's right. I said that."

"Yes! I definitely heard you say, if we brought you a sword, you'd spare us. I, I—"

"Yes, what you heard was right. I said that."

"Th-Then..."

"So, I'll spare you. We're not like you. We have honor. That's what warriors of the Heavenly Martial Hall are."

"......!"

The man's face instantly beamed in joy. It was a face wavering between despair and hope.

He quickly turned, looking at Jeong-un, wanting to confirm one more time just in case.

"......"

Jeong-un calmly sheathed his sword, as if he didn't care at all. That seemed to give the man certainty.

"Go. Before I change my mind."

"Thank you! Thank you!"

Rising to his feet, the man sprinted away, sparing not a glance at the corpses of his comrades.

He had been holding a weapon a moment ago, but now ran off empty-handed.

As the man gradually vanished from sight, Baek Il-gang laughed and said,

"A promise is a promise. Don't you agree?"

"......"

Reading the meaning in his eyes, Jeong-un shook his head.

* * *

It was unbelievable.

He had survived a battle of life and death with swords drawn by begging for his life.

To call it miraculous luck was an understatement. They really had let him go.

"You stupid bastards!"

That's what the Righteous Faction was like.

Even when opportunity presented itself, they failed to make crucial decisions.

There was a reason why "heroes" never lived long.

"...... I'll kill every last one of them, those bastards."

Now that he had survived, shame washed over him in waves.

They were just fresh-faced kids, much younger than himself.

There were even others from the village present.

He had begged for his life on his knees in front of all of them.

Never in his life had he experienced a greater humiliation.

"I've seen all of their faces. I'll tell the Stronghold Lord and kill them all. I'll skin them and burn them alive."

Gritting his teeth, he climbed the mountain in a fury.

The burning urge for revenge roused all his internal energy.

He ran faster than ever before, delving deeper into the mountain.

Soon, he could see the mountain stronghold's entrance in the distance.

"Str—Stronghold Lord!"

He was already calling out for the Stronghold Lord as he ran.

The young Stronghold Lord was an exceptional master.

No matter how great those brats were, before the Stronghold Lord, they would stand no chance.

It had always been that way in Black Dragon Stronghold.

Since childhood, he had taken every elixir, accumulating unbelievable cultivated power.

After his body matured, he slew countless masters of the Righteous Faction.

"Stronghold Lord...!"

By now, his voice had become almost a howl.

Suddenly, a rush of wind sounded from his side.

'What was that?'

He turned instinctively, not knowing why.

And he came face to face with striking features—a familiar face.

"......?"

For that brief instant, his mind froze.

The situation was so sudden, he couldn't process what was happening. Then, it struck him—he knew that face.

Just a moment ago.

"Y-you...?!"

"So this is your mountain stronghold."

The eyes facing him crinkled with a smile, and in the next instant, a flash of light covered his vision.

Splurt!