Chapter 28
Shattered.
That was the perfect word to define the Demon-Slaying Sword (투귀검).
A martial art created solely for smashing and breaking its target—completely different in essence from the refined mysteries of the Mount Hua Sect.
It had been born from focusing on the deficiencies he himself felt after mastering Mount Hua’s martial arts, designed only to compensate for those gaps.
Though he loved Mount Hua dearly, the Demon-Slaying Sword was forged to surpass, even to destroy, that very Mount Hua.
To see its blade not cut through a mountain but slice through an unnamed river was a truly remarkable sight.
And with that, no further conversation was needed.
The Rule of Strength.
The absolute law that governed the martial world.
In front of it, the other no longer doubted his existence; she could only bow her head in total surrender.
“I’ll have the information on the Central Royal Household (중왕부) prepared and delivered to you by tomorrow. As for the Gujung Society, I can bring that today. Would you like it immediately?”
The boldness from earlier was gone. Now Yeonhwa’s tone was the very picture of humility.
He told her he would receive it all together tomorrow and then left the place.
‘Perhaps I overdid it.’
A faint exhaustion washed over him.
Though his internal energy was brimming, his body still could not fully handle the strain of such power.
It was a little frustrating to tire from so little, but he decided to see it positively.
‘It’s been barely over three months since I was given this new life.’
In the end, time would solve everything.
There was no need to rush.
He was certain he would continue to grow stronger.
His starting point was already vastly different from ordinary martial artists.
‘At least a year.’
Yes. He was sure of it.
By then, he would be completely different.
So too would be the situation with the Golden Flower Trading Company (금화상단).
A shallow smile tugged at his lips.
He had tried not to be impatient, yet already he was forced to correct himself.
If he wanted results at the level he desired, he would need to put in effort.
The amusing part was—he actually found it fun, worrying about such things.
In his life as a sword, he had never had to.
‘Back then, time felt infinite.’
His life had been close to immortal, after all. There was no need to hurry.
But now, it was different.
Time felt precious; wasting even a little seemed foolish.
That alone made the flow of time feel real.
In one sense, he had lost the endless leisure of immortality.
Yet in another, the result wasn’t so bad.
He had gained the fierce, urgent life he’d never known before.
‘Funny, for me to say this, but—’
As the Divine Sword (신검), he had been a lazy genius.
One who still made the world tremble.
But what if that lazy genius actually worked hard?
‘Even the Heavenly Demon Divine Sword (천마신검) would have to keep his guard up—along with his ancestors.’
He imagined the Heavenly Demon Divine Sword among the blades that once quaked before him.
It was exhilarating.
The only regret—he was no longer a sword.
But he already had a solution in mind.
‘My growth will be your growth.’
His eyes fell on the Extermination Sword (멸악검) at his waist.
That blade would kneel the Heavenly Demon Divine Sword in his stead.
Hummm—
As if in agreement, the sword let out a low resonance.
Good blade.
He ran his hand gently along the scabbard, then lifted his head.
The Golden Flower Trading Company’s building was already in sight.
He paused a few steps away.
Behind him, he sensed someone also stop.
No need to turn. He already knew.
Yeonhwa.
She hadn’t bothered to hide her presence, only followed carefully.
‘So, that’s it.’
She wasn’t following him—she was headed to the same destination.
But not for him.
‘So she knew already he was at the Golden Flower Trading Company.’
As expected of the Hao Clan (하오문).
No warrior would easily give up on a severed arm, not even one of their own.
And among the rare physicians capable of reattaching a limb was Jegal Myeong (제갈명), the Divine Doctor of the Golden Flower Trading Company.
‘Just as I thought.’
He had cut her arm cleanly, precisely to make it easier to reattach.
If she received treatment from the Divine Doctor, she would likely have no aftereffects.
‘Would that reduce her hatred of me, I wonder?’
He smirked.
Not likely. That venomous woman would never soften.
If he showed a gap, she would lunge without hesitation.
Not now, of course.
He had severed her arm and then displayed overwhelming might—a warning she could not ignore.
The Hao Clan was a band of unruly rogues, unpredictable, yet not so foolish as to recklessly provoke an opponent they couldn’t handle.
If anything, they were among the most cowardly forces in the martial world.
So for now, they would be busy gauging him.
And he would simply take advantage of that position of power.
They desperately wanted something from him—yet they would never get it.
Though he had once revealed Jincheon’s martial arts to them in a whim, he had no intention of handing them over.
‘I’ll suck the sweet juice only.’
They had done the same to Jincheon.
Why shouldn’t he?
He tilted his head back, gazing at the sky.
‘Are you watching, Jincheon?’
I’ll take your revenge for you.
The passing clouds seemed to whisper back: Isn’t that too petty to call revenge?
He chuckled.
‘Then why didn’t you do it yourself?’
Hypocrite.
He spat a curse at the heavens, then lowered his gaze.
When he resumed walking, the presence behind him also moved, more carefully, more timidly.
“You should have done that to Jincheon in the first place.”
He wasn’t speaking to Yeonhwa, but to the Hao Clan of old.
And to Jincheon, wherever he was now.
“You should’ve been harder, you fool.”
If you had, they wouldn’t have climbed over you, nor betrayed you.
“Though… it’s not really your fault.”
The real problem was the ingrates who betrayed kindness.
So this time, he would play the opposite role—become the betrayer in Jincheon’s place.
“Just wait till they screw up.”
When that time came, he would strike them hard.
He was already looking forward to that day.
The next morning.
He woke early, sitting cross-legged on his bed.
The Purple Mist Divine Art (자하신공) was a supreme cultivation method, one that didn’t require sitting meditation to circulate qi.
Even so, he preferred the posture. Somehow, it always improved his results.
‘Human bodies are strange.’
He couldn’t explain why, only that the concentration was sharper.
After finishing meditation and breathing, he rose—by then the sun was already up.
He washed lightly, tidied his bed, and stepped outside.
The morning sunlight greeted him first.
“Good.”
It was one of the things he liked most in this new life—being able to bask in morning light.
He hadn’t expected himself to enjoy it so much.
Perhaps it was because he had spent so long shut away after his duel with the Heavenly Demon Divine Sword.
On such bright days, he always lingered in the sunlight before beginning his day.
Heading to the courtyard where the sun was strongest, he found others had beaten him there.
‘Good, isn’t it? You like it too, Geumdu?’
“Squeak!”
It was Gilang and Geumdu.
Geumdu sprawled in the sun, Gilang nestled in its arms.
The sight made him chuckle.
A pouch spirit and a mole sunbathing together—
He’d never heard of such a thing, much less imagined it.
For Gilang, who had been locked away for so long, it made sense.
But Geumdu? A mole, basking in sunlight it should avoid—it was ridiculous.
‘Well, it’s no ordinary mole.’
At first, he hadn’t thought it was a spirit beast.
Its cultivation wasn’t on par with others.
But its intelligence was uncanny.
Not all spirit beasts were clever.
Yet Geumdu had proven resourceful enough to evade pursuit from even underworld envoys.
It had even acted as Gilang’s eyes, showing it the world.
Clever and sensitive—more than enough to count as a true spirit beast.
And now, it had even overcome the mole’s weakness to sunlight.
‘This one’s future will be interesting.’
Today, though, he would yield the sunniest spot to them.
Normally, he’d have chased the brats off.
But just this once, he let them be.
They deserved it.
And their unlikely friendship—creature and spirit pouch—was oddly heartwarming.
‘Come to think of it, there are others like that.’
Baekho and Dongchil.
Another peculiar bond.
Though not quite so openly close—at least, not yet.
“I wonder when Baekho and Dongchil will return?”
As the saying went, speak of the tiger and it appears.
“…No way.”
He laughed at the thought, but extended his senses anyway.
And caught something.
Not human.
Huh? Could it be?
The aura was faint, hard to identify.
He focused harder.
And realized—
‘Not Baekho.’
What he sensed wasn’t the white tiger, but something else.
Something radiating a strange energy.
‘A ghost?’
Or a demon?
‘No… something in between.’
His brow furrowed.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“Sahun.”
At his call, the shadow stirred.
No further words were needed.
‘I’ll be back.’
Soon after, Sahun returned—holding a soul he’d never seen before.
He almost asked who it was, then stopped.
No need.
“Myeongan.”
At the name whispered, the spirit’s identity was revealed.
