Chapter 854

Kwagagak—!!!

A storm tore across the ground.

Swords rained down endlessly, whipping around like an unstoppable tempest, leaving destruction in their wake.

Shiiik!

Four glowing blades traced erratic circles in the air, moving as though alive.

One of the spinning blades angled its tip and lunged forward.

"Hup."

Namgung Bi-ah angled her sword, lowering the edge to deflect the incoming attack.

Kiiiik!

The blade scraped against her sword’s spine, its trajectory deflected as sparks scattered.

She successfully parried the attack, but her expression remained tense.

Because this wasn’t the end.

Sure enough, as soon as she dealt with one attack, two more blades lunged at her.

Frowning, Namgung Bi-ah braced herself, channeling her energy.

Crackle!

Lightning Qi surged, coiling around her sword. She concentrated her energy into her core, releasing it explosively.

The pressure radiating from her body solidified into the form of Jeowang Geomhyeong—the Emperor’s Sword Form.

For a fleeting moment, the flying blades slowed. Namgung Bi-ah seized the opportunity.

Her sword, imbued with Lightning Qi, slashed through the air. The two incoming blades shattered under her strike, revealing a clear path ahead.

Without hesitation, she darted forward, her movements as swift as a lightning bolt.

In an instant, she was upon her opponent, her sword poised to strike.

She aimed for the neck—a clean, decisive blow.

But—

"...!"

Namgung Bi-ah abruptly halted her strike, twisting her body mid-motion.

A blade stabbed into the space her head had occupied moments ago.

Pik!

A shallow wound appeared on her cheek, blood trickling down. A few strands of her hair fell, severed.

Spinning away, she widened the gap between herself and her opponent.

"Hoo..."

She exhaled deeply, wiping the blood from her cheek.

The tension was suffocating.

"Your instincts are sharp."

The Celestial Stream Sect master smiled as he observed Namgung Bi-ah.

He still hadn’t moved a single step, his hands clasped behind his back.

Namgung Bi-ah’s brow furrowed.

Despite being at the Hwagyeong level like her, the difference in skill was overwhelming.

This wasn’t someone she could compare to opponents like the Silver Wolf Sword.

"Even earlier... What a waste of talent."

"..."

"You couldn’t have reached the Irip stage yet... So how can you be this strong?"

The old man chuckled, shaking his head.

As he laughed, the blades hovering in the air returned to him, circling around.

"The Star King, that brat, is the same... These kids nowadays are on a whole different level."

Hoo...

Namgung Bi-ah steadied her breathing, regaining her stance.

She already knew she couldn’t win.

She had realized that after the first exchange.

"It’s such a pity, really. Seeing someone as brilliant as you being treated so harshly."

Her opponent was holding back—that much was clear.

He was toying with her, adjusting his attacks as though entertaining himself.

Namgung Bi-ah glanced back briefly.

Wi Seol-ah still hadn’t moved.

She was standing still, her gaze fixed on the tree, seemingly entranced.

Clearly, something was wrong with her.

"So, why don’t you just answer my questions? I’ll spare your life if you do."

"..."

Spare her life? And what would happen after that?

Namgung Bi-ah’s nose wrinkled as a foul stench reached her.

The old man reeked of something vile.

"Of course, in exchange for your life... you’ll have to entertain this old man for a while. Make it worth my while."

His words dripped with nauseating desire.

Namgung Bi-ah’s eyes turned icy.

This feeling... She had experienced it many times before.

It was nothing new, just something she had grown accustomed to.

Whenever she faced such gazes, Gu Yangcheon’s words echoed in her mind.

"It’s because you’re beautiful. Not just a little—too much."

Beautiful.

Apparently, she was.

Knowing it didn’t evoke any particular emotion. It wasn’t something that had ever benefited her life.

It was simply a fact she acknowledged.

No, she had known it since she was young. At one point, she had considered it a curse.

Most of her misfortunes stemmed from it.

She had once thought, Wouldn’t it be better if I didn’t have this face?

But now, things were different.

She no longer cared.

Those lecherous gazes, that unbridled desire—they no longer bothered her.

What once disgusted her now didn’t affect her.

She remembered asking him about it once, and he had looked at her incredulously.

"You don’t like being beautiful? What kind of nonsense is that?"

"No, it’s not that I hate it... Wait, what? Chest? Why are we talking about that? Hey! Button up your shirt! Have you lost your mind?"

"I don’t hate either. If anything, I like them, so stop asking and go! I need to train!"

Those once cumbersome aspects no longer weighed on her.

The way his face reddened when he stole glances at her. The faint trace of longing in his eyes.

Strangely, none of it bothered her anymore.

Sometimes, she thought about how he tried to restrain himself and wondered if he didn’t have to. If anything, she wished he wouldn’t.

But that was a thought meant only for him.

"So, why don’t you stop fighting a losing battle and just surrender? Quietly..."

The Celestial Stream Sect master’s words trailed off as his gaze narrowed on Namgung Bi-ah.

"Why are you smiling?"

Namgung Bi-ah was smiling.

Partly because she had been thinking of him.

And partly because she was enjoying this moment.

A fight she couldn’t win. A battle with no hope of victory.

A moment when death was a very real possibility.

It all made her smile.

"Haha..."

The Celestial Stream Sect master chuckled dryly, as though he understood.

"I thought you were just a talented flower. But this... Goodness."

The swords circling him paused. The desire in his eyes shifted to something more wary.

"You’re a Du-Gwi."

Among martial artists, there were those who lived for the thrill of combat.

Those who reveled in killing were called Sal-Gwi (Killing Ghosts).

Those who were consumed by the joy of battle were called Du-Gwi (Fighting Ghosts).

This girl was a Du-Gwi.

Smiling as she felt the thrill of combat in this desperate situation—how absurd.

"Well, that’s how it is, I suppose."

The Celestial Stream Sect master grinned.

For someone as beautiful as her, it didn’t matter if she was a Du-Gwi.

Nothing would change.

"If I can capture her, she’ll be a valuable card to play."

How had they come here? How had they opened the sealed door?

And more importantly—

"Who is that girl behind her?"

The golden-haired girl entranced by the Sacred Tree of Ilcheon Sect.

He knew who she was.

"The descendant of the Sword Master. They called her the Seomwol Sword, didn’t they?"

Recalling that name sent chills down his spine.

He had encountered her once, briefly.

In the heart of a battlefield, where countless swords rained down, slaughtering enemies.

A sight incomparable to his four blades.

And yet, despite her lineage, she stood motionless, staring only at the Sacred Tree.

"Capture them both."

He would use them against the Star King.

And he would unravel these mysteries, while presenting his followers with an unexpected prize.

"Endure if you can."

With a smirk, the old man waved his hand, and the swords rained down again like falling stars.

At that moment—

"Hoo."

Namgung Bi-ah exhaled once more.

The voice in her ears kept shouting.

[Draw it already!]

The elder’s voice pierced her mind like a blade, but Namgung Bi-ah didn’t listen.

Not yet.

There was still more she could do.

[Foolish girl...! This isn’t something that stubbornness can solve—!]

The descending blades came within a hair’s breadth of Namgung Bi-ah’s head.

The strike was inevitable.

And then, just as the slanted blades closed in—Namgung Bi-ah drew her sword.

It wasn’t Thunder Fang.

Kugugugung—!!!

Her blade struck, unleashing a shockwave as it embedded itself in the earth.

Swish.

At the same moment, something was sliced.

"...!!"

The Celestial Stream Sect master staggered, dropping to one knee.

"Guh...!"

He coughed violently, blood gushing from his mouth as he clutched his chest.

Something else flowed from his torso—blood.

A deep gash ran across his chest, crimson spilling from the wound.

Wracked with pain, the Sect master glared straight ahead.

"You...! How did you manage to wield a Heart Sword (Simgeom)?!"

His snarling face twisted into a mask of fury as he spat his words.

Ssss...

"Hoo..."

From where the storm of blades had just raged, a familiar sound echoed.

The fallen swords lay scattered across the ground.

Standing among them was Namgung Bi-ah.

She wasn’t unscathed.

Cuts and gashes marred her figure.

Her robes were torn, and blood trickled from her lips, hands, and legs.

The wounds weren’t shallow.

Yet even then—

Namgung Bi-ah was smiling.

Brightly.

As if the situation pleased her, she smiled as if in full bloom.

"You’ve got... a good sense, huh?"

She echoed the words the Sect master had uttered just moments ago.

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

A subterranean chamber, vast and humid.

A large, elderly man rushed in with a panicked expression.

"What’s happening here—?!"

"Elder!"

Those inside turned to him, their faces pale with shock.

"Th-the formation was suddenly deactivated!"

"What do you mean?! What were the guards doing?!"

"We can’t reach them."

"What...?"

The elder’s face twisted into a grimace.

The formation was deactivated? Just like that?

"When was the last shift change with the guards?"

"Roughly half a sichen ago."

"Only half a sichen?"

He couldn’t believe it.

Half a sichen, barely an hour. The formation that even the renowned Wind Dragon Division Chief could hold off for days—disarmed in such a short time?

It made no sense.

The elder’s disbelief grew heavier.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, Elder. The formation dismantled without any apparent cause."

"Could it have malfunctioned on its own?"

Perhaps the mechanism had failed? The elder considered the possibility.

"The Formation Division checked it earlier today and reported no issues."

"Then it must be an outside attack."

"That is our current assumption..."

"Where is the Sect Master? What’s his current position?"

"The Sect Master left earlier, saying he was going to catch some ‘rats’..."

"Tch."

The elder’s frustration deepened. He had been aware of intruders for some time, but the Sect Master had insisted on waiting.

‘Is it them?’

The ones who had snuck in—could they have done this? If so, how?

The elder had no answers, but he knew standing idle wasn’t an option.

"I’ll go inspect the formation myself. You, come with me."

He gestured for one of the formation experts to accompany him.

He rose quickly, moving toward the exit.

Half-running, he made his way to the only true entrance among the many false pathways.

The elder wasn’t familiar with the exact layout, so he relied on his guide.

"To the left."

Navigating the labyrinthine corridors, he followed the instructions.

As they neared the correct entrance—

"Now, turn right..."

"Wait."

The elder halted abruptly, raising his hand to stop the man.

"Stop."

"Elder...?"

The guide looked at him, confused, but the elder’s gaze was fixed ahead. Sweat trickled down his temples.

"Who’s there?"

He addressed the darkness ahead.

Footsteps echoed in response.

The guide froze as an overwhelming killing intent washed over him, suffocating and all-consuming.

From the shadows of the entrance, faint blue light flickered, shimmering faintly in the air.

It didn’t take long for the guide to realize the light came from a pair of eyes.

"W-who are you...?"

The elder’s eyes widened as he finally made out the figure stepping forward.

"The St—"

"I have a question for you."

The young man’s cold voice interrupted the elder.

The guide trembled uncontrollably. The oppressive killing intent was one thing, but there was something else—something terrifying.

‘His... his eyes?’

The blue light in the stranger’s eyes began to change, shifting hue.

What was once a cold, radiant blue morphed into a deep, chilling violet.

The guide felt his breath catch.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t act.

Fear consumed him entirely.

Clatter.

His teeth chattered uncontrollably as his body quaked.

"I’m looking for someone," the young man continued, his tone calm but piercing.

"Do you know anything?"

"S-someone?"

The elder gritted his teeth, his muscles swelling as he gathered all his energy.

He roared, expelling a surge of Qi to dispel the killing intent pressing down on him.

"Do you even know where you are—?!"

The elder’s massive frame radiated power, a clear sign of a martial artist who had reached Hwagyeong.

The guide felt a faint glimmer of hope. Surely the elder could buy them some time—

Thunk.

"Huh?"

The guide let out a stunned gasp.

The elder, moments ago radiating strength, suddenly collapsed onto one knee.

"E-Elder?!"

The guide tried to make sense of the scene, but the elder didn’t respond.

Instead, his massive frame toppled forward, crumpling to the ground.

Thud.

The heavy impact echoed, and the guide instinctively moved to check on him—

Thump.

Something fell in front of him.

The guide’s eyes widened in horror, and a bloodcurdling scream tore from his throat.

"Aaaagh—!!!"

A heart, still faintly pulsing, lay at his feet.

"Wh-who’s...?"

He turned to the elder, who now lay lifeless in a pool of blood, his chest cavity empty.

"E-Elder..."

Crunch.

A boot crushed the heart underfoot, spraying blood onto the guide’s face.

"I’ll ask again," the young man said, his voice calm and deliberate.

A hand reached out, gripping the guide’s jaw and forcing his head upward.

Their eyes met.

"I’m looking for someone. Do you know anything?"

The guide felt something warm and sticky on his chin—the elder’s blood.