Chapter 709

Tang So-yeol was still at the stage where she could count the number of times she had died.

As sweat drenched her trembling body, the Shadow King spoke.

“Do you know what you fear most?”

The master of the night.

The king of assassins.

The man closest to death himself posed the question, and Tang So-yeol raised her head.

What was she most afraid of?

“…Is it death?”

Death.

The end of life.

Thinking this might be the answer, she replied, but the Shadow King, maintaining his usual impassive expression, said:

“Wrong.”

The punishment for a wrong answer was severe.

Slash—!

With a flick of his dagger, the Shadow King severed Tang So-yeol’s neck.

Thud!

The moment her severed head hit the ground—

“Gah…!”

It was as if everything had been an illusion. She awoke again.

“Gah… haah… sob…!”

As Tang So-yeol whimpered in terror, the Shadow King spoke.

“Still not enough.”

“Wait…!”

And with that, she died a hundred more times.

Afterward, Tang So-yeol’s expression became empty.

She no longer whimpered in fear.

Yet—

“I will ask again. What do you think you fear the most?”

Even now, she couldn’t find the answer.

It wasn’t death. That much was clear.

So, what could it be?

At the time, Tang So-yeol still couldn’t answer.

“Not yet.”

The Shadow King nodded.

Slash.

And death repeated itself once more.

How many times had she died now?

She had counted up to five hundred, but after that, she stopped keeping track.

It was a cycle of the same question and her inability to answer.

“Do you know?”

She answered no.

And faced death again.

“Do you know?”

She felt as if she might know.

But because it wasn’t complete, she continued to die.

“Do you know?”

She didn’t know the answer, but she learned other things.

She learned where to stab someone to kill them instantly.

And where to stab them so they wouldn’t die but would feel only pain.

She didn’t study this deliberately.

She learned it through countless repetitions, committing it to memory through sheer exposure.

And yet, she still couldn’t answer the Shadow King’s question.

She lost count of the number of times she died.

Death no longer fazed her.

“I am disappointed.”

The Shadow King spoke in the same calm voice as always, addressing Tang So-yeol.

“You’re slower than I expected.”

“…”

Was he saying her progress was slow?

With lifeless eyes, Tang So-yeol looked at the Shadow King.

Though his face was as impassive as ever, she could sense a strange air of disappointment.

“Will you give up?”

“…No… no, I won’t…. I can do it….”

The Shadow King frequently urged Tang So-yeol to give up.

And each time, she answered that she could do it. Giving up wasn’t an option.

This was her only chance.

If she lost this, she might as well truly die.

“Hmm.”

Hearing her answer, the Shadow King appeared to consider something for a moment before finally nodding slightly.

“Very well.”

He spoke while pulling out his dagger.

“From now on, you have ten chances. If you don’t find the answer by then—”

The Shadow King plunged his dagger into Tang So-yeol’s heart.

The pain no longer mattered to her, and she began to lose consciousness again.

“I will kill Gu Yangcheon, the one you hold so dear.”

“…!”

But in the midst of it, the voice that pierced her ears snapped her back to attention.

“Guh…”

Blood flowed as Tang So-yeol’s eyes widened in shock amidst the haze of death.

“What… what did you say…?”

“You’d better find the answer. You don’t have many chances left.”

The Shadow King’s face betrayed no sympathy, even as she tried to plead with him.

Thus, her hell began.

“Do you know?”

She had tried every possible answer.

What else could she say?

“Gu Gongja has nothing to do with this…! Why him?”

“That is not the answer.”

A dagger pierced her head, and she met death once again.

“Please… please… don’t harm him. I’ll figure out the answer. No, I’ll do anything. Please…!”

She tried begging, clinging to his feet.

But his response was always the same.

“I’ll kill you! If you touch him, I’ll kill you!”

She even swung her own dagger at the Shadow King in desperation.

The outcome was the same.

“I told you—I’m right! I’m scared of this—I told you, didn’t I?!”

Nothing worked. Eight chances passed this way.

And then came the ninth.

“…Sob… sob….”

She desperately wracked her brain, trying to think of the answer. It wasn’t death. It wasn’t despair.

Not poverty. Not sacrifice.

Then what? Anxiety consumed her.

She didn’t care if she died dozens, even hundreds of times.

But he was different. Gu Yangcheon couldn’t be involved.

Clench!

Blood dripped from her tightly clenched fist.

She had gripped so hard that her nails pierced her palms.

‘Please, please, please… please!’

She felt no pain.

With bloodshot eyes, she looked at the Shadow King.

She had to find the answer.

What was she most afraid of?

What answer would satisfy the Shadow King?

What was it that terrified her the most?

Tang So-yeol repeated the question to herself over and over.

Meanwhile, the Shadow King approached her.

He knelt down and met her gaze.

“Do you know?”

It was a question she had heard thousands of times.

And yet, this time felt the same as all the others.

Tang So-yeol’s eyes trembled uncontrollably.

Once again, she couldn’t answer.

No matter what she said, it felt like it wouldn’t reach him.

“So, you don’t know.”

The Shadow King moved his dagger slowly.

As the blade approached her neck, Tang So-yeol thought again.

What was she afraid of right now?

It wasn’t death. It wasn’t pain.

Was it losing Gu Yangcheon? Yes.

She was afraid.

So was that it? Was she afraid of losing someone precious to her?

Or perhaps—

‘Am I afraid of my own helplessness while I lose him?’

As he faded away, would she be powerless to do anything?

As she failed to save him, would she remain utterly useless?

Was that what terrified her?

At that moment—

Thud!

The Shadow King’s dagger, poised to strike her neck, stopped.

“I will ask you again.”

His voice reached her ears.

Trembling, Tang So-yeol looked at him.

“Do you know?”

“…”

The same voice. The same question.

Crushed by the fear of helplessness, Tang So-yeol muttered unconsciously:

“Helplessness….”

The inability to do anything.

As she spoke, tears flowed from one of her eyes, the one not yet fully green.

Yes, what she feared most was her own helplessness.

It wasn’t death. It wasn’t pain. It was that wretched feeling inside her.

That was all.

“Hmm.”

Hearing her words, the Shadow King withdrew his dagger.

“So, that is your fear.”

At his words, Tang So-yeol’s eyes widened.

“Is… is that the right answer?”

She couldn’t understand.

If helplessness was the answer, then she had said it countless times before.

She must have said it more than once.

She must have used similar words, or even the exact term.

And yet, back then, the Shadow King had killed her, claiming it wasn’t the answer.

Why was he relenting now?

In response to her unspoken question, the Shadow King explained:

“There is a difference between speaking unknowingly and recognizing it.”

To understand and to simply say—it was a difference Tang So-yeol couldn’t yet grasp.

She only came to understand the Shadow King’s words much later—

when her eyes had fully turned green.

And only then did the Shadow King permit her to descend the mountain.

******************

“What… what just happened?”

“What is that?”

The crowd was in an uproar, voices rising in confusion over what had just unfolded on the martial stage.

It had only been a few seconds since the match between Tang So-yeol, the Poison Phoenix of the Tang Clan, and Oil Sword had begun.

Suddenly, a black veil had enveloped the stage, throwing everyone into a state of bewilderment.

What was this? Some kind of martial technique?

Even the referee stationed outside the arena hesitated, unsure whether to intervene.

And then—

Saaaah!

After more than a minute, the dark veil dissipated, revealing the two fighters once more.

“Huh.”

“Hmm?”

The spectators, who had been holding their breath, reacted with surprise.

The two fighters on stage appeared completely unscathed.

Had they not fought at all?

As such thoughts crossed their minds—

“Gah—!”

Suddenly, Oil Sword coughed up blood and collapsed to his knees.

“What—!?”

“Oil Sword collapsed?”

“This can’t be…!”

Everyone was stunned.

The unexpected turn of events left the crowd reeling. Everyone had anticipated Tang So-yeol’s defeat, yet here she stood, calmly observing her opponent.

“Cough… cough…!”

Oil Sword was now coughing up blood repeatedly, his body trembling. Despite having no visible wounds, he appeared to be in excruciating pain.

Tang So-yeol spoke, her voice steady and clear.

“Only four times.”

“…!”

Oil Sword’s face contorted in fear at her words.

“You only managed to endure four times.”

“You… you wench!”

“Don’t exaggerate. You were even begging me to let you go, remember? I felt sorry for you, so I obliged.”

“What kind of sorcery did you use!?”

“Who knows?”

Tang So-yeol gave a faint smile in response to Oil Sword’s outburst.

That smile froze him in place.

What had he just experienced?

As he tried to recall, his body trembled involuntarily.

The memories were blurry, as if shrouded in fog.

All that remained was a lingering terror.

Oil Sword struggled to grasp his current state of mind.

In the midst of this—

“Focus, senior.”

Tang So-yeol addressed him again.

“It wouldn’t be fun to end it like this, and there’s still more to show. I let you off easy. Stay sharp.”

Her smile was beautiful, yet to Oil Sword, it no longer seemed so.

Instead of anger, fear gripped his body.

“…You monster…”

The insult slipped out before he could stop himself.

But Tang So-yeol seemed unaffected.

“Thank you for the compliment. So, are you going to continue?”

Grit—

Her sarcastic tone only further fueled Oil Sword’s frustration. He infused his blade with energy, suppressing the fear that gripped him.

As a martial artist at the

Peak Level

, fear was something he could always conquer.

Regaining his composure, he glared at her and declared:

“Whatever trick you used doesn’t matter. If it didn’t kill me outright, then you’re finished.”

If her technique had truly worked, she should have ended him while she had the chance.

The fact that he was still standing meant she had no hope left.

With that thought, Oil Sword unleashed his energy.

Hwoosh!

A clear, radiant sword aura enveloped his blade as he swung it toward Tang So-yeol.

Fwaaah—!

"Shooting Star Severance."

The technique earned him his title as Oil Sword.

The crescent-shaped arc of energy was as beautiful as a shooting star but carried destructive power far beyond its appearance.

Rumble—!

The strike tore across the stage, heading straight for Tang So-yeol.

Tang So-yeol tilted her head slightly, the motion reminiscent of someone else entirely.

And then—

Whoosh!

“…!”

Before the strike could land, her figure vanished from Oil Sword’s sight.

‘What…?’

In this open space, where could she have disappeared to? Oil Sword frantically searched for her presence.

“Honestly.”

Her calm voice came from right in front of him—or rather, slightly below.

Toward his lower body.

Oil Sword instinctively glanced down, attempting to reposition his sword.

“You’ve made a mess of the stage, and others still need to use it. Why would you do that?”

But Tang So-yeol was faster.

Before he could react, her fist buried itself into his side.

Thud!

“Guh!”

Despite his protective Qi barrier, the blow dug deep into his torso.

Boom!

The impact sent shockwaves through his body, hurling him across the stage.

Crash!

Oil Sword tumbled across the ground, rolling to a stop with a series of heavy thuds.

Thud. Thud.

His stance crumbled, and he could barely rise.

Just as he tried to stabilize himself, a small foot flew toward him.

Smack!

The force of the kick snapped his head back.

“Ugh!”

His protective Qi shattered alongside the blood and teeth that flew from his mouth.

The power behind her slender frame was monstrous.

His vision blurred, but he could see Tang So-yeol approaching him.

Boom! Boom boom! Boom boom!

Her fists rained down on his body, a relentless barrage of strikes.

Each blow was precise and powerful, her fists infused with Qi that echoed loudly with every hit.

Whenever Oil Sword tried to escape, she struck his legs to stop him.

Whenever he attempted to raise his sword, she struck his shoulder, rendering him immobile.

Her movements weren’t anticipatory—they were simply faster.

‘This… this can’t….’

As realization dawned on him, Oil Sword’s world crumbled.

The truth was simple.

Tang So-yeol was faster.

Far faster.

She didn’t need to predict his moves. She only had to react more swiftly than he could act.

And so, like a ragdoll, Oil Sword could do nothing but endure the punishment.

Boom boom! Boom boom!

The most terrifying part was how she controlled her strength.

“Gah!”

She hit him hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to knock him out.

To the spectators, it seemed as though she was toying with him.

Oil Sword, one of Zhongyuan’s Hundred Masters, was being played with by a mere fledgling.

The audience was too stunned to react.

“Poison Phoenix… how is this possible…?”

“This can’t be real…. What is happening?”

The scene felt like a nightmare.

And then, silence.

The stage grew still as the relentless sounds of blows and Oil Sword’s cries ceased.

Now, Tang So-yeol stood, holding a nearly unrecognizable Oil Sword by the hair.

“Ugh… guh….”

Blood dripped from him, staining the stage red.

Tang So-yeol released her grip, letting him collapse to the ground.

Thud.

Then, she planted her foot on his face.

“Look at the mess you’ve made. Disgusting.”

Her hands bloodied, she casually pulled out a cloth to wipe them clean.

“Guh… cough… ugh….”

Oil Sword groaned beneath her foot as Tang So-yeol chuckled.

“Now this suits you.”

A man crawling on the ground—it suited him far better than standing.

She crouched down, closing the distance between them, and whispered in his ear:

“From now on, live appropriately. Don’t go chasing after things beyond your reach. Understood?”

She traced a finger along his bloodied face. At her touch, Oil Sword’s body convulsed.

“…”

“…”

The match was clearly over.

Yet, there were no cheers.

Only Oil Sword’s faint, labored breaths filled the silence.

Tang So-yeol turned away and began walking toward the exit, ignoring the dazed referee.

Her gaze fell on a young man at the entrance, watching her intently.

Waving enthusiastically, she called out:

“Young master! I won!! Praise me! Hehehe!”

Her pure, cheerful smile was a stark contrast to the brutality she had just displayed.