Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Realm of Ascension

"You crazy bastard!"

The High Priest twisted his face and thrust out his fist. It was a fist-and-palm move filled with cultivated power.

The afterwave of that bursting energy from the tips of his fingers caused the air itself to ripple.

Whooosh!

That fist strike was clearly visible to the eye. It wasn't just the movement.

Jeong-un also caught the flow of true ki running straight from his elbow to his wrist in a single fierce stream.

Just as important as one's body movements in wielding a sword and evading attacks was the ability to see.

There were already various martial arts for eye training in the martial world, and nearly every sect had its own unique techniques for it.

'It's definitely fast.'

Just because he could clearly see it with his eyes didn't mean it was slow.

The High Priest's strike was certainly extremely rapid.

Even compared to the enemies he had faced before, it was so.

If the waves of ki from an attack caused ripples in the air, there was no doubt he was an expert.

Yet, Jeong-un felt no sense of urgency.

Without slowing his lightness skill, Jeong-un swung his sword horizontally.

In that moment, the internal energy burst forth from his dantian, riding the meridian pathways straight to his sword-gripping wrist.

His senses themselves were entirely different from before.

The way his internal energy moved throughout his body had been redefined with remarkable simplicity.

The flexibility of his meridians was the same.

He could pour out an immense amount of cultivated power in an instant.

Ssshhh!

"...!"

The one who was launching the fist-and-palm technique widened his eyes when he saw the sword swinging straight for his own hand.

In a fight between martial artists, who made their move first was crucial.

Unless one was a master who knew how to segment and control even time itself, whoever attacked first often had the advantage.

Even if that attack didn't touch the opponent's body, adjusting the timing could steal their rhythm and breath.

'Damn it!'

That's why the High Priest couldn't help but be surprised. It was because he had definitely made the first move.

Moreover, he had boldly poured his cultivated power into the blow, intending to smash Jeong-un's face as he recklessly charged in head on.

Yet Jeong-un was even faster. Despite making the first move, he lost the advantage in speed completely.

Whap!

The High Priest withdrew his striking hand and leaped back, shoving off the ground.

Abruptly pulling back a move mid-attack was actually quite risky.

It reversed the flow of true ki inside the body. There was bound to be strain.

Despite this, the High Priest moved back naturally, as if nothing was wrong.

But on his face, a grimace was evident.

The High Priest shouted,

"Attack!"

At that, the cultists, who had been transfixed watching the exchange between Jeong-un and the High Priest, snapped out of it.

Each hurriedly drew their weapons and charged Jeong-un.

'That guy uses fist-and-palm arts.'

Jeong-un quickly swept his gaze over those rushing at him. He was gauging the blood arts that formed their core.

That High Priest, supposedly holding a high position among them, didn't even have a sword at his waist.

That meant he was likely someone who mainly used fist-and-palm techniques.

His earlier move had been fierce.

The others, however, were all running at him with swords.

That indicated the blood arts they learned might be a kind of cultivation method for building and wielding their messy internal power.

Perhaps they didn't even have any proper foundation in sword technique or fist-and-palm arts at all.

Maybe just moving their bodies using internal energy was enough for them.

'Even that should be more than enough to entice them.'

Just being able to use internal energy was enough to call someone a martial artist in this world.

That would be more than sufficient to lure struggling commoners.

And not all powerless commoners were devoid of greed or ambition.

Whisper to them that they could rise above others as martial artists, and many would be tempted.

Swish!

With these thoughts, Jeong-un cut down an enemy in a single sword slash.

As the sword's flash gleamed, the foe was bisected, sword and all.

"Insane!"

Another nearby cultist goggled in shock.

Never mind a person's body—he had cut straight through an actual weapon, one containing true ki, as if it were paper.

What that implied could not be ignored.

Swish!

Instead, Jeong-un stepped forward and stabbed another with his sword.

Before the shock could fade from the foe's look in his eyes, his head fell.

Jeong-un didn't intend to give his enemies even a split second to be shocked by his sword techniques.

He felt such things were a luxury these foes didn't deserve.

"All at once!"

"Get behind him!"

Normally, if a comrade died suddenly right before one's eyes, the usual reaction was to freeze up or turn and flee.

But these men didn't slow down at all, continuing their assault on Jeong-un.

It wasn't out of anger or a desire for revenge for their comrade's death.

Nor was it that they had no fear of the sword turning on them.

It was simply because they belonged to a group where fear itself was not allowed.

If they even hesitated, the High Priest's eyes—currently fixed on them—would never forgive them.

They were bodies who had secretly learned blood arts, building up internal energy through the blood and flesh of humans.

By the code of martial artists, the group itself was like their master.

The Blood Cult bestowed martial arts formulas strictly according to rank.

Low-rank cultists, who had only just become martial artists, were always thirsty for martial arts advancements and had to beg for headquarters' instruction.

It was literally a matter of life and death.

Even if they called themselves martial artists, that didn't make them true warriors.

If they hunted commoners alone to amass cultivated power, they could end up killed by passing warriors.

Above all, if they tried to run, the cult would send pursuers to kill them.

In the end, surviving and growing stronger required depending on headquarters—a twisted structure.

Splat!

And so, another head flew off. With each flash of his sword, another cultist fell.

'Let's hurry.'

To Jeong-un, these men suited the order of nature more as corpses than as living beings.

Even if martial artists went against the natural flow, these ones were on a completely different level.

It was only right to kill and erase them.

Hiss!

With a single step, he sliced through the throng like an afterimage.

"What the—...!"

"Wh-where is he!"

None could follow his movement with their eyes.

They could only belatedly turn their heads, chasing the ghost of his afterimage.

Right in the center of their group.

To them, Jeong-un's figure still hadn't even come into clear focus.

With a rotation of his waist, he drew his elbow outward.

The sword strike mingled perfectly with the speed of his lightness skill, the rotational force of his hips layered on top.

Slaaash!

In an instant, five heads went flying. Even a man outside the rotation's arc had his head taken off.

He was now highly skilled at adjusting the length of his bursting energy in sword strikes.

The transparent wave of ki shooting from his sword's tip was vividly clear.

He had reached the level of not being bound by distance.

'My sense of handling true ki has changed again.'

Jeong-un realized he had entered an entirely new realm.

He'd already thought himself sensitive to ki before.

But this was another level entirely.

He now realized again just how absurd it was to absorb natural energy into his own body.

Martial artists truly were superhuman. There were so many arts they could perform.

Splurt!

He finished off the last man.

With a determined face, he kicked off the ground and struck down an attacker coming from above.

Before the foe could even reach him, Jeong-un swung his sword and sliced him in two at the waist.

As his upper and lower halves fell, in that brief moment before death, he flailed with a hollow expression before crossing the river of death.

Having dealt with all those enemies in such a short moment, Jeong-un turned to the High Priest and spoke.

"You've missed your chance to attack together."

"Attack together?"

The High Priest snorted.

His look mocked Jeong-un, as if he'd heard something ridiculous.

The man had watched the whole fight with his arms folded, observing as his underlings left this world as if it were a show.

Of course, Jeong-un knew the High Priest hadn't simply been watching for the sake of it.

He must have been sacrificing his men to probe Jeong-un's martial arts.

"You're saying I should have involved myself in that crude brawl? That level of provocation is just ridiculous."

"Crude? Is there some noble form of life-and-death struggle?"

"That depends on the person. You don't think I'm the same as those insignificant corpses over there. Then again, as a lowlife yourself, maybe you can't tell the difference."

"..."

Jeong-un quietly gazed at him. This one's footwork was truly impressive.

Still moving at speed, Jeong-un swung his sword.

He aimed to pierce the foe's guard as he reached out, but the man swiftly withdrew his hand and leapt back.

Even that marked him as someone on a different level from the others—just the way he withdrew set him apart from the corpses that now littered the field.

'The High Priest, was it?'

Supposedly, there were only eight such figures in the Blood Cult. That meant he was facing one of their leaders alone.

And, given the clear sense of hierarchy, the High Priest must have been acknowledged as an expert within his group.

'This is good.'

Jeong-un intended to test himself through this foe.

Although he didn't show it outwardly, he knew he had just made a tremendous breakthrough in his martial arts.

The powerful internal energy in his body, his strengthened physique, and the body-protecting enhanced ki enveloping him were all clear to feel.

He could even adjust each of these things with great precision.

'How high have I climbed in the martial world?'

The veins stood out blue on the back of his hand gripping the sword.

He had nothing more to say to the man. He just wanted to gauge his own level through this fight.

Boom!

With his next step, waves of ki burst forth and sent out a massive shockwave.

The dust that had settled was kicked up, swirling with the shattered air.

In the next moment, he was right in front of the High Priest.

True ki surged through every part of his body, stacking speed and monstrous physical strength atop his trained movements.

As he swung his sword horizontally, it aimed for the man's neck.

Whoosh!

A blinding slash tore through the air. Yet the High Priest's neck did not fall.

Just as the sword swept out, his feet moved as if sliding, and he slipped out of the sword's arc.

Not even a strand of bursting energy so much as touched his throat.

"Your sword can't reach me."

He smiled confidently at Jeong-un.

Jeong-un tracked his movement with his eyes and rushed in again.

Boom! Bang!

Each of Jeong-un's sword strikes sent transformation through the surrounding landscape.

Shockwaves of ki continually erupted in the air, the power far greater than before—even Jeong-un himself could feel how much he had changed.

But still, he couldn't touch the High Priest.

Without counterattacking, the man kept dodging, grinning all the while, clearly trying to disrupt Jeong-un's focus.

"You certainly have piled up the strongest martial strength in your body. In the orthodox faction, someone like you would be called a prodigy. But the truth is, you've probably always been assigned only safe tasks where your life wasn't at risk. Now, meeting a true expert better than yourself for the first time—how confused you must be. Set your sword down and kneel. I'll personally place you within the trajectory of reincarnation."

Boom!

Jeong-un's sword demolished part of a mountain slope.

A boulder the size of a house split and rolled aside.

He had imbued his casually swung sword strike with massive cultivated power.

'He's truly different from the others.'

Jeong-un glanced at him.

If only eight such figures existed even within the Blood Cult, then even taking the whole martial world into account, this man could be called an expert without question.

At the same time, Jeong-un was introspecting himself.

Strong true ki heated his body to the very tips of his hands and feet.

There was no damage anywhere in his body. He felt as light as if he could fly.

Then, the man spoke in a mocking tone.

"There's density to the cultivated power in your sword strikes, but what's the point if you can't land a blow? My feet are swifter than your eyes!"

With that, a sharp wave of ki flew from his right hand with a sudden swipe.

Crash!

Jeong-un lightly swung his sword and deflected it. Even so, the man laughed and shouted,

"Don't you see? My martial strength surpasses even the masters of major sects in the martial world. Do you really think a special disciple of theirs like you could defeat me? This world has undeniable levels and ranks."

Once more, the man's hand flashed, sending a chunk of transparent bursting energy his way.

Bang!

Jeong-un swung his sword with ease and deflected it again.

It was a blow infused with great internal power, yet there was no difficulty at all.

Not only could he see the attack clearly with his eyes, but its destructive force was so light it was almost laughable to judge it.

Yet, in his mind, he chewed over the man's words.

'A master of a great sect?'

Without realizing it, the last words emerged aloud.

"Merely you?"

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

Whenever Jeong-un talks trash, something good always happen...

And most of the time, it's unintentional trash talk...

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】