Chapter 197
Chapter 197
And the moment she raised her head again to meet Youngho’s eyes.
Yoon Seojeong regretted it.
A wound.
Yes, that must be called a wound. At first glance, Youngho’s eyes might have seemed emotionless, yet within them flickered an unmistakable pain he could not hide.
Just what kind of experiences would one have to go through for such vivid pain to be reflected in one’s eyes?
How could pain reveal itself beneath such a cold expression?
She did not know. Because she did not know, she also wanted to know at the same time—the wound of someone precious to her.
But now that no longer mattered. Youngho had been hurt, and Yoon Seojeong had made a careless remark.
Yoon Seojeong spoke urgently.
“S-, Master, that’s not what I meant. I mean…”
“I know.”
Youngho placed his hand atop the flustered Yoon Seojeong’s head and simply smiled as gently as he could.
“I’m merely afraid as well.”
“…Yes?”
Youngho was the Greatest Under Heaven and the head of the Unorthodox Alliance. What in the world could someone like him possibly fear?
“Whether you will still treat me the same after learning about my past… or whether you will leave me.”
Hearing Youngho’s voice, Yoon Seojeong’s body trembled.
Youngho’s hand slowly moved. Stroking her head as though it were the most precious thing in the world, he spoke in an emotionless voice.
“Jeong-ah, you know what the Unorthodox Faction calls me, don’t you?”
“…Evil Ghost.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Hearing Youngho affirm it, Yoon Seojeong suddenly felt afraid. Why was that? Why did she feel so frightened?
And then she realized. The reason she was afraid was because she had just seen a side of Youngho she had never witnessed before.
Even Yoon Seojeong, who prided herself on knowing him well, found Youngho’s voice unfamiliar. Her face stiffened on its own.
Youngho smoothed the furrow between her brows with his finger and said,
“Then what do you think the Orthodox Sect calls me? A fiend? A demon? Or perhaps the Martial God?”
“…I don’t know.”
At Yoon Seojeong’s hesitant reply, Youngho spoke a brutal word in a gentle tone.
“A slaughterer.”
“…What?”
Yoon Seojeong could not accept what she had just heard. With a stunned expression, she asked again.
“What did you just say…?”
“Except for those close to me, the people of the Orthodox Sect call me a slaughterer. A slaughterer without blood or tears.”
Youngho laughed self-mockingly. Even at Youngho’s self-derision, where he genuinely ridiculed himself, Yoon Seojeong could not easily open her mouth.
“A blood-soaked Evil Ghost or a slaughterer without blood or tears. Which one should I choose?”
This time it was not a muttered remark. It was clearly a question directed at Yoon Seojeong.
Yoon Seojeong’s lips moved slightly, but she ultimately chose silence.
A dreadful silence.
At his disciple’s considerate decision not to choose either, Youngho spoke warmly.
“The answer is both.”
“…!”
Startled, Yoon Seojeong looked into Youngho’s eyes. His pupils seemed deep enough to swallow her whole, and for a moment her body swayed.
Youngho caught her as she lost her balance and said indifferently, as if nothing had happened,
“In both the Orthodox Sect and the Unorthodox Faction, they treat me like a monster all the same.”
Youngho opened his mouth as if to say something more, then closed it again.
After silently staring at Yoon Seojeong’s face, Youngho released the wrist he had been holding and said,
“I’ll go get some fresh air for a moment.”
Leaving only those words behind, Youngho disappeared from Yoon Seojeong’s sight.
Yoon Seojeong could only stare blankly at the spot where he had been standing.
After calming the ripples that had stirred within her heart, Yoon Seojeong quietly approached Kang Chowon and asked,
“Unni.”
“…It’s not something I can tell you.”
“I know. But at the same time, it’s something I have to find out.”
Yoon Seojeong met Kang Chowon’s trembling pupils.
The guilt of having hurt her Master and the confusion shaking her eyes.
Seeing that painful gaze, sorrow also filled Kang Chowon’s eyes.
Yoon Seojeong removed the earring from her ear—the one with the pine-needle pattern that stood out so distinctly.
“When I said I would wear this earring, you were clearly shaken.”
“Let’s stop.”
“What exactly is this earring that makes Master react like that?”
“Don’t ask any more.”
“Please tell me.”
“No.”
“Then at least tell me why you can’t!”
Yoon Seojeong’s anguished shout pierced Kang Chowon’s ears. Kang Chowon still kept her face cold and firm as she replied resolutely.
“No.”
“…Is it because you don’t trust me?”
“No. It’s simply not something that can be decided by considering you alone.”
Yoon Seojeong could not understand what that meant. Still, hoping to gain even a small clue, she forced her lips to move.
“What do you mean…!”
“Alliance Lord.”
“……”
“I cannot speak of it solely out of consideration for the Lord of the Unorthodox Alliance’s circumstances.”
Kang Chowon’s face was filled with unwavering resolve as she said those words.
Yoon Seojeong glared at Kang Chowon for a moment, then turned and used Lightness Skill.
In an instant she left the Namgung Clan.
Grinding her teeth, she said,
“Jongpal.”
“Yes, Young Lady.”
Not long after his name was called, Jongpal appeared beside Yoon Seojeong.
Though not quite on the level of Black Shadow, the shadow of Youngho, Jongpal was still highly skilled at moving in secrecy.
With a serious expression unlike his usual playful face, Jongpal spoke.
“Even if you ask me, I cannot give you an answer.”
“Then what about the Hao Sect?”
“The Unorthodox Alliance belongs to the Alliance Lord.”
It meant that the Hao Sect, being part of the Unorthodox Alliance, also could not provide an answer.
Biting her lip lightly in frustration, Yoon Seojeong muttered,
“Then I’ll go to the Beggars’ Sect.”
The moment she heard Jongpal’s words, she spoke without hesitation. Jongpal, who had somewhat expected such a response, nodded.
“Understood. Shall we bring an escort?”
“You and I are enough.”
“I will obey.”
Jongpal hid his presence once again and followed behind Yoon Seojeong.
Moonlight shifting from a crescent to a half-moon cast a faint glow over the dark streets.
Leaning on that dim moonlight, Youngho walked silently through the street.
Feeling the cold moonlight, Youngho thought.
‘How many were there?’
He could not remember. Neither the number of people he had killed nor their faces.
Before the Regression, he had never bothered to remember. They had nothing to do with him anyway, and those he killed were all trash.
But now he could not remember.
He had killed everyone who bore a grudge against him.
And by killing them, he had also killed everyone who might hold a grudge because of them.
Not all of them were people who deserved death.
Some could have reformed. Some had already buried their sins and were living new lives proudly.
Youngho sometimes wondered.
Why had he killed them?
Ten thousand. Fifty thousand. One hundred thousand.
Including the time before his Regression, he must have killed around one hundred thousand people.
No murderer kills a hundred people in their lifetime.
Even an Absolute-Level Master who goes to war cannot kill a thousand enemies.
But Youngho had taken a hundred thousand lives.
That was why he did not want Yoon Seojeong to know.
No single person should be able to kill that many people in one lifetime.
Because he had been drenched in so much blood that it could fill an entire lake.
Because he feared she would be afraid of the hands stained with those sins.
He had not hidden it, yet he had not told her either.
Did that count as deception?
‘It was deception.’
Resentment. Hatred. Screams.
Most of those voices had come from women who had become widows after losing their husbands.
He had spared many of them, but anyone who possessed the ability to harm him had been killed.
‘Should I be grateful that none of them were pregnant?’
It was a self-consolation so disgusting it made him sick.
If even one of the women he had killed had been carrying a small life in her womb, could he still live smiling like he did now?
‘I’ll only know if that day comes.’
Youngho chuckled quietly and walked deeper into the darkness where moonlight could not reach.
A secluded corner near the city walls of Anhui.
With ruined houses lined up and scattered graves nearby, Youngho finally stopped.
“Show yourself. I know you’ve been following me.”
Youngho’s voice was calm, yet heavy.
At that moment, a figure leapt out from the darkness.
“So the rumor that you came to the Murim Alliance was true. I assumed you would be near the Murim Alliance Leader, but…”
The man holding twin swords in both hands twisted his lips into a crooked smile that looked almost grotesque.
“I never expected you to be wandering around alone.”
Youngho looked at the man standing before him.
‘I don’t know him.’
Few sects used twin swords, yet he did not recognize the man’s face.
“Martial God—no, that title is too grand for you.”
The man shook his head exaggeratedly, as if he could never accept it.
“Slaughterer.”
At the word that burst from the man’s mouth, Youngho’s hand tightened.
It was a dreadful word to Youngho, but it was not false. His mind cooled rapidly.
Cold—so cold that even his own heart seemed to freeze.
Thanks to that coldness, he was able to speak calmly.
“Did you come from the Orthodox Sect?”
“Hmm? Ah, I see. In the Unorthodox Faction, they call you an Evil Ghost, don’t they? But that’s wrong.”
Numerous figures appeared behind the man. The same happened behind Youngho—people emerging from the darkness wielding swords, axes, whips, and various other weapons.
The ruined houses prevented the area from being completely open, but Youngho had been surrounded.
Youngho glanced at someone perched atop a crumbling roof, aiming an arrow at him.
Beside that person stood others holding Hidden Weapons and devices that appeared capable of causing explosions.
“Jongyu Sect, Gwiryeong Sect, Gujang Wall Sect…”
The man began listing sects that Youngho might have exterminated.
There were a few he remembered—but far more he did not.
When the man finished speaking, he glared at Youngho with bloodshot eyes.
“It’s not just the Orthodox Sect. The Unorthodox Faction, wandering warriors, and even commoners who became martial artists—we’ve all gathered here. All for the sake of killing you! Slaughterer!”
A roar like a scream erupted from the man’s mouth.
Hearing the misery and resentment in his voice, Youngho said calmly,
“I do not remember any of you.”
His tone was utterly indifferent—as though such things meant nothing.
“Even if you show me your sect’s unique martial arts or try to corner me with clever strategies.”
At his calm words, the surrounding air turned icy.
Those who had been boiling with rage regained their composure.
Their blazing fury froze cold.
And so the man leading them slowly spoke.
“Kill him.”
The moment the words ended, Hidden Weapons and arrows flew from every direction, all aimed at Youngho.
As countless projectiles shot toward him, Youngho’s senses heightened.
To him, the arrows and hidden weapons seemed to move slowly.
Within that slowed time, Youngho briefly closed his eyes.
He perceived the Formation caught by his Qi Sense.
He smelled the poison scent on the projectiles.
He even sensed the faint smell of gunpowder beneath the ground and let out a quiet chuckle.
In truth, this was far better.
If he had not earned the title of slaughterer, he would have had to live bearing far greater hatred and hostility than this.
If he had not sent one hundred thousand lives to the underworld, he would have had to personally erase three times as many lives with his own hands.
Why had he killed so many people?
‘To survive. And…’
Because he did not want to lose what was his anymore.
Just to protect those two things, Youngho drew his sword once again.
The wind, colder than usual today, brushed across his cheek.