Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Youngho was training as usual.

Shiver—!

At the chilling presence that swept across his throat in an instant, Youngho immediately took the sword lying beside him and fastened it at his waist.

Then he spoke straight toward Sopyung.

“Sopyung. Go to the backyard.”

“Pardon? It’s almost dinner time—”

“Don’t ask anything right now. Just go to the backyard.”

Sensing the seriousness in Youngho’s expression, Sopyung immediately limped toward the backyard, dragging her uncomfortable right leg.

After evacuating Sopyung in an instant, Youngho spoke to Horyeung, who, like him, had sensed the opponent’s presence.

“Who do you think it is?”

“The Fourth Young Miss, most likely.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…….”

“There seem to be two of them.”

“I know that. But if it were the Fourth Young Miss, the presence wouldn’t be this strong.”

“I’ve never met her in person, so I wouldn’t know.”

Their tones were extremely calm. At a glance, they sounded like middle-aged men who had come out to fish as a hobby.

But while their voices were like that, their expressions were more serious than ever.

“I think I can only stop one of them.”

“Then I’ll stop the other.”

“Is that possible?”

“If it really doesn’t work, we run.”

Horyeung looked at Youngho with a dumbfounded expression.

“Do you have no pride as a martial artist?”

“Does pride put food on the table?”

Despite being a question that could shake the very foundation of a martial artist, Youngho shot back as if what he said was only natural.

Feeling the presence drawing closer, Youngho grinned.

“We just need to run a little. I’ll take care of Sopyung.”

“That seems impossible.”

“Why?”

“It seems the other side has already heard everything we said.”

Boom—!!

At that moment, the main gate was smashed apart, sweeping sand across the yard. As a cloud of dust briefly obscured his vision, Youngho frowned in irritation.

Had she seen that expression? A voice as beautiful as a rose, yet bristling with thorns, rang out from within the dust.

“Don’t worry. I won’t pick a fight with your junior sister.”

Screee—!

In that instant, pitch-black Sword Qi cut through the dust and flew toward Youngho.

Clang!

Blocking the Sword Qi, Youngho broke into a grin like a demon.

“Did you break through a wall or something? My wrist’s tingling.”

Shaking his numb wrist, Youngho kept his gaze fixed ahead and spoke.

“Your Sword Qi’s sharper than before~.”

At that, Hong Gakjeong emerged from the dust.

“I did break through a wall. Enough to easily kill the likes of you.”

As she spoke, a chilling killing intent hung over Hong Gakjeong’s face.

“That’s some impressive killing intent. If you’re letting it pour out of your face like that, how am I supposed to even talk?”

Despite saying that, Youngho’s mouth moved just fine. And his tone was more than enough to grate on Hong Gakjeong’s nerves.

“You say you’re scared, but you sure talk a lot.”

“My mouth’s always been lively.”

Even as a vein bulged on her forehead, clearly furious, Hong Gakjeong spoke while maintaining her composure as best she could.

“Looks like your face is lively too.”

The real reason Hong Gakjeong was furious wasn’t Youngho’s tone. It was what she was seeing—

the expression Youngho was wearing right now.

An expression smiling as though he was enjoying himself too much to contain it.

Letting killing intent spill out along with a crazed smile, Youngho spoke as if he were having the time of his life.

“So, what’s the reason you smashed someone else’s front gate and barged in?”

“Don’t you already know?”

“Not a clue.”

Crack.

The more she talked with this bastard, the more it felt like she was dancing in the palm of his hand.

Youngho was forcing Hong Gakjeong to state the reason she had come to find him. But there wasn’t really any reason for her to seek him out.

It obviously wasn’t because she wanted to talk with a fellow disciple. So then why had Hong Gakjeong gone so far as to smash the front gate just to come here?

‘To make me admit my defeat with my own mouth?’

She couldn’t accept it. Even now, Hong Gakjeong couldn’t understand why, or how, she had lost in her fight against Youngho.

That slow yet fast fist—it felt like something that operated on a completely different axis from martial arts. If that was the case, then?

‘There’s no answer other than Heretical Arts.’

Hong Gakjeong believed that Youngho, befitting a beast-like member of the Unorthodox Faction, had used Heretical Arts.

Youngho sneered as if he had read Hong Gakjeong’s thoughts.

“I’ve never used Heretical Arts.”

At that, Hong Gakjeong frowned her beautiful brows.

“Who said you did?”

“It’s written all over your face. And I’ll tell you one thing.”

Kwooooo—!!

At that moment, Youngho began to release the killing intent he once possessed as the Supreme of the Unorthodox Faction. Compared to before the Regression, it was but a drop in the ocean, yet this killing intent alone was more than enough to make Hong Gakjeong and Jin Woohyeon tense.

“You lost because you were weak. That’s all.”

“You bastard!”

As if further conversation was meaningless, Hong Gakjeong did not hide in the slightest the martial presence that had shattered a wall and charged at Youngho like a bolt of lightning.

Like a tiger carrying scorching heat as it lunged to tear its prey apart, she rushed forward—but Youngho merely wore an expression like the incarnation of a demon.

At such a chilling sight, one might have slowed down, yet Hong Gakjeong instead increased her speed, as if determined to cut down that displeasing expression.

Clang!

Hong Gakjeong’s sword collided with Youngho’s sword, scattering crimson sparks. But it lasted only a moment.

Both figures vanished in an instant. They unfolded an absurd battle of calculations, each trying to invade the other’s personal space.

Seeing this, Jin Woohyeon immediately tried to assist Hong Gakjeong, but Horyeung stepped in to block him.

“It seems you’ll have to deal with me.”

“Step aside, small fry.”

“Whether I’m small fry or not, we’ll find out once we clash.”

At the same time, the figures of Jin Woohyeon and Horyeung disappeared. Like seasoned martial artists, they did not limit themselves to a battle of space alone; they approached with irregular movements, then resumed the struggle over space once more.

Youngho and Hong Gakjeong calculated meticulously, again and again. And every time the calculations ended, the one being overwhelmed was always Hong Gakjeong.

“Ghh—!”

Perhaps the absurdity of it all was too infuriating—Hong Gakjeong screamed and charged straight at Youngho in a crude, reckless rush.

At that sight, Youngho unconsciously let a drop of cold sweat fall from his temple.

In truth, Youngho found it easier to deal with a battle over a martial artist’s inherent domain than with this kind of brainless charge into an exchange of techniques.

When it came to understanding space itself, Youngho was confident that no one besides the Heavenly Demon could rival him.

That was why he had been able to win the spatial battle born of meticulous calculations just moments ago—but the current situation was vastly different.

Boom—!

At Hong Gakjeong’s heavy sword strike, Youngho nearly let out a groan.

It was powerful. Infinitely tyrannical and infinitely violent, Hong Gakjeong’s sword—each strike, each slash—was worthy of being called a supreme technique of divine art.

Of course, that was to the current Youngho, not the one from before the Regression.

A body trained for only six months was clearly different from the body he had possessed in his days as the Foremost Master of the Unorthodox Faction. And he was feeling that difference keenly through Hong Gakjeong.

‘I’m getting pushed back by a brat like this!’

Of course, Youngho’s current body was even younger than that brat’s. That only made it all the more infuriating. His mind and will were still those of the Sword Demon, the former Supreme of the Unorthodox Faction.

He was losing in strength and losing in speed. Youngho was holding on solely through meticulous calculations using his mind rather than relying on innate combat ability.

By watching the opponent’s body—breathing, footsteps, shoulder movements, and more—he predicted the next attack.

His battle of calculations, akin to foreseeing the future itself, was enough to exhaust even Hong Gakjeong.

‘Why won’t it hit?!’

She had the advantage in strength and speed. Then why were her attacks not landing?

Youngho’s sword and her own were surely from the same master’s sword art. Then why did her attacks never reach Youngho?

Although most of her strength was being poured into evasion, it was abnormal no matter how one looked at it that Youngho avoided or deflected every single strike.

Just how?

Even someone with a Heaven-Bestowed Martial Body, gifted by the heavens with a physique and mind specialized for martial arts, shouldn’t be able to do this much.

After all, six months was not enough time to perfectly wield Sword Qi.

But look at Youngho’s sword! The pitch-black Sword Qi flickering like flames was so vivid that it clearly showed he had reached Master Level.

It was absurd talent. That was precisely why she had to kill him now, while he was still weaker than her. Yet with every attack, the frustration was undeniable.

Had he even barely blocked them, she wouldn’t have felt this stifled.

“Huff! Huff!”

Youngho’s breathing had climbed to his throat, as if it would give out at any moment, and sweat poured from his temples.

His movements had even begun to slow. Then why wouldn’t it hit?! Why?!

The current Hong Gakjeong was, objectively and subjectively, stronger than Baekcheong, the Third Young Master. Before taking a Spirit Pill, she had been weaker than Baekcheong.

‘At this level, even Baekcheong should’ve collapsed from exhaustion—so why isn’t this bastard going down?!’

The realization that the one before her was a monster sent a sudden chill racing through her entire body.

For an instant, a gap appeared in Hong Gakjeong—but Youngho couldn’t bring himself to attack. He knew that striking now would mean trading flesh for bone.

Slash.

At that moment, Youngho’s side was dyed red. Seeing that, Hong Gakjeong unconsciously stopped swinging her sword.

Given a brief moment to breathe, Youngho immediately began to steady his breath. He had to endure just a little longer.

Realizing what she had done mid-fight, Hong Gakjeong clicked her tongue and immediately thrust her sword again.

Screee—!

One thing had changed—Hong Gakjeong’s sword was beginning to grow faster, little by little.

‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, bitch!’

He wanted to say it out loud, but now was the time to conserve even his words.

Slash.

Youngho’s shoulder was stained red.

Slash.

Youngho’s thigh was stained red.

They were only shallow wounds, yet Hong Gakjeong’s sword was gradually beginning to reach him more and more.

Slash.

So close!

Hong Gakjeong’s sword could have taken Youngho’s eye, but reacting instantly, Youngho twisted his head aside and narrowly avoided the attack.

Blood began to trickle down from Youngho’s forehead. Even as that vivid red blood flowed into his eye, Youngho didn’t blink once.

Seeing that, Hong Gakjeong was momentarily overwhelmed by Youngho’s gaze and felt a chilling sensation.

But she quickly realized the disgrace of her hesitation and swung her sword once more.

Wounds began to accumulate on Youngho’s body. The sword that had only barely touched him now flew in ever more threatening arcs.

At that moment, Hong Gakjeong’s sword surged toward Youngho like a crashing wave.

Gripping his sword in a reverse hold, Youngho barely blocked the attack—but the rebound from deflecting it exposed his entire upper body to Hong Gakjeong.

Hong Gakjeong licked her crimson lips and spoke.

“Farewell.”

At the same time, her sword thrust straight toward Youngho’s heart.

Slash!