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Cheong Myeong slowly approached, and the Thousand Faced Manipulator gripped his wounded wrist tightly. The sharp pain from the cut wrist throbbed. [Cheon Myeon Susa]
'The Plum Blossom Sword Demon...' [Maehwa Geomgwi]
A chilling killing intent radiated from him. It was hard to believe this energy came from someone aligned with the righteous sect. No—regardless of affiliation, had he ever in his life felt such a tangible killing aura on his skin?
'My heart...'
A long-buried 'fear' slowly surfaced from deep within him. This wasn't quite the same as the fear he felt when facing Paegun. [ruthless military commander alias JIS]
Fear of Paegun stemmed from their unpredictability, the psychological pressure of not knowing when they might become merciless. But this man made you tense and shrink back just by standing in front of him.
'I don't know who's responsible for spreading those rumors, but the name 'Sword Demon' suits him disturbingly well.' [Geomgwi]
The problem now was that he had to face this sword demon himself.
Whoosh!
Cheong Myeong's body blurred.
Even Thousand Faced Manipulator, who prided himself on his speed, found it hard to believe how fast he was. Reflexively, he threw dozens of palm strikes ahead of him.
Papapapapats!
The sound of his sleeves flapping echoed like a massive flag in the wind. In an instant, the area in front of Thousand Faced Manipulator was completely covered in a flurry of white palm strikes.
Thousand Faces Hand(千面手)
A supreme martial art of the evil sect, sometimes called Ten Thousand Flower Hand or Bare Handed Divine Palm. The legendary technique, known by many names, displayed its full might on the moonlit field.
[tl note: Manhwasu (Ten Thousand Flower Hand), Sosushinjang (Bare Handed Divine Palm)]
The numerous palm shadows swirling in the air created a spectacle so overwhelming it resembled a snowstorm.
Thousand Faced Manipulator was confident. He was sure he had blocked the attack. There was no space in the defensive wall of palm strikes for even a thread to pass through.
But then…
Shhhhrrrr!
A tearing sound, like a massive silk sheet being slashed with a blade, rang out. The center of the palm strikes barrier split open vertically.
'What?'
It was an unbelievable sight.
Instead of a straight line, an irregular line was created. As if it couldn't possibly have been that fast. Yet the attack had been swift beyond comprehension—an attack so unreasonable it defied logic had literally ripped through his defensive wall. The sword demon slid through the opened gap, eyes cold and silent.
Clack!
There was no time to dodge. The descending sword was barely blocked by his hands in a desperate, instinctive move to save his life.
Thousand Faced Manipulator's face twisted in agony.
The sword that had already sliced through his flesh lodged itself into his bones. His hands, hardened through immense martial Art, stronger than cold steel, were splitting apart with terrifying ease.
[tl note: gong(초공) = art]
He had to watch in clear view as crimson blood spurted from his pale hands, and beyond the blade, the cold, emotionless eyes of the sword demon stared back at him.
Craackk!
The sword twisted, scraping his bones with a chilling sound. In response, Thousand Faced Manipulator shot three rapid palm strikes forward with all his might.
Swush! Swush! Swush!
The flashes of palm strikes shot out at close range, but they were all blocked. However, as if expecting this, Thousand Faced Manipulator launched another wave of palm strikes, while blood still pouring from his hands.
Woooooom!
Layer upon layer of palm strikes energy built up rapidly, forming a massive current that surged toward the sword-wielding figure.
At the same time, Thousand Faced Manipulator pushed off the ground and leaped backward.
'I need to create distance...'
In a close-range fight between a swordsman and a fist fighter, the fist fighter has the advantage. This was a basic principle.
But now wasn't the time to rely on principles—he had to trust his instincts.
Bang!
The surge of palm strikes energy shattered like an icicle struck by a rod, scattering in all directions.
Thousand Faced Manipulator realized his instincts had been correct.
But soon, he had to revise that understanding.
Flap! Flap! Flap!
At first, it was a faint sound, like small things rustling. Then it became louder, like the beating wings of dozens of birds, and soon it filled the air from all sides.
Thousand Faced Manipulator's eyes widened.
Like red paint spreading across a canvas, crimson petals started to cover the dark sky.
'Plum blossoms!'
The symbol of Mount Hua, which had made the sect the most renowned in the world. The plum blossoms multiplied rapidly, first by dozens, then hundreds, threatening to engulf Thousand Faced Manipulator's entire body.
He had heard of this countless times. He had even witnessed it with his own eyes.
But facing the plum blossoms of Mount Hua head-on was a completely different experience. The pressure was overwhelming, as if his entire body was being crushed.
It was absurdly vivid.
Each petal drifted like a real flower. They filled the sky, whirling as if caught in a spring breeze, despite the stillness of the field.
"Arrgh!"
Thousand Faced Manipulator swung his hands madly. White palm strikes surged like clouds.
But no matter how many barriers he created, it was impossible to block all the petals.
Slash!
A petal grazed his thigh.
Slash!
Another lodged itself in his chest.
Slash! Slash! Slash! Slash!
Countless petals sliced into his flesh, dyeing his clothes red with blood. As red as the blossoms that continued to whirl through the air.
'Damn it.'
Every martial art has its weaknesses.
One cannot be both fast and slow, both strong and soft, at the same time. No matter how perfectly refined, every martial art has an inherent flaw.
That's why the first step in facing an opponent is determining the optimal distance to maintain. Whether or not you can maintain that distance determines the outcome.
But against this man, distance had no meaning. Whether close enough to block his sword or too far to reach, that cursed blade revealed no weaknesses.
Slash! Slash! Slash! Slash!
Overwhelmed (寡不敵衆). Thousand Faced Manipulator, Dam Yeohae, who had always toyed with his enemies using transformation and illusion, is now being overwhelmed by the same. No, he is being outright crushed. Though each wound was not fatal by itself, at this rate, there wouldn't be a single part of his body left unscathed.
'How… how can I… wait, what?'
Suddenly, something caught Dam Yeohae's eye.
'Could it be?'
He brought both hands together at his center.
Slash!
In that moment, the petals he had barely been managing to block began raining down on his body like a relentless storm. But Dam Yeohae gritted his teeth and thrust both palms forward.
"Haaaaah!"
Boom!
A straightforward strike, abandoning any change or deception.
As if by magic, the countless flower petals that had been swirling with a force to cover the world suddenly vanished.
Boom!
The distorted energy collided with something and slammed into the ground.
"Hah! Hah!"
Dam Yeohae let out heavy breaths. His entire body throbbed with excruciating pain. It felt as though countless sharp blades were lodged all over his body.
As the rising dust slowly settled, Cheong Myeong's figure came into view. Unlike the battered Dam Yeohae, not a single strand of his hair was out of place.
The contrast was obvious.
Yet, despite this, both of their expressions were strange. Neither of them looked confident in victory or resigned to defeat.
Swoosh.
Dam Yeohae lightly shook his bleeding hand.
'What was that?'
A deep sense of discomfort swept over him.
The flaw Cheong Myeong had shown moments ago wasn't anything too significant. No one can be perfect all the time. Even if it wasn't a mistake, maintaining that level of skill for long periods is no easy feat.
However, Dam Yeohae didn't ignore the unsettling feeling that was gnawing at him.
What exactly was this sensation?
It felt like seeing a single flag out of place among thousands that were perfectly aligned. Something, though he couldn't quite pinpoint what, was scratching at his nerves.
What he knew and what he was seeing didn't match. But what could that something be?
And how was he supposed to figure it out? Even with all his experience, how could he possibly face someone who stood so confidently?
'Wait?'
In that moment, Dam Yeohae's eyes shifted.
He found it. He figured it out. But accepting it was difficult. His rational mind and his injured body were giving him different answers.
'I'll know if I check.'
Dam Yeohae once again scattered his palm strikes into the air.
His target was only Cheong Myeong, the swordsman of Mount Hua, standing as if overlooking the world.
Fwoosh!
A different type of energy than before swirled around Cheong Myeong. It moved like a butterfly taking flight and dancing through the air.
Soon, the sword in Cheong Myeong's hand transformed into numerous blades, piercing through the energy that was rushing toward him.
At the same time, Cheong Myeong's energy folded space, and he appeared right in front of Dam Yeohae, aiming a kick directly at his chest.
Thud!
Dam Yeohae's body was flung backward.
The sleeve of his robe instantly turned to dust, and a clear footprint was left on his pale forearm. Though he managed to block the attack, he couldn't avoid it.
Thud!
Despite being injured, Dam Yeohae's expression didn't seem like that of someone in distress.
A thin smile formed at the corner of his bloodied lips.
His body still didn't fully accept it... but the conclusion was clear.
The countless stories he'd heard about the Plum Blossom Sword Demon, the information he'd meticulously gathered through Hao Sect. His analysis of all those details had now shifted.
Dam Yeohae opened his mouth.
"...You're not standing there so composed because you're arrogant, right?"
"..."
"You're unable to keep going, aren't you? If it were anyone else, I don't know, but considering your nature, you'd have already killed me without giving me a moment to rest."
"..."
"And yet, you haven't pressed your advantage. That means... it must be a lack of internal energy. Or maybe it's surging out of control? Either way, it's the same."
Even as Dam Yeohae spoke, he was internally shocked. Despite being overpowered and unable to land a single blow, he still found himself pitying his opponent.
But no matter how much he thought about it, this was the only possible answer.
If Cheong Myeong had continued attacking, Dam Yeohae would have suffered far more damage. But suddenly, his attacks had lost their momentum. He had attacked and cornered them, but he had given them a break.
At a glance, one might mistake it for the composure of a stronger fighter. But Dam Yeohae knew that wasn't the case. The Plum Blossom Sword Demon wasn't the type to waste time or show mercy, especially against an enemy from the evil sects.
That's right. There could only be one conclusion.
"You…"
Dam Yeohae bared his bloodied teeth.
"You've become weak, haven't you?"
"..."
Crack.
The sound of bones cracking came from Dam Yeohae's fingers.
Having worked so hard to create distance from Cheong Myeong, Dam Yeohae now took a step toward him. Cautiously, but without hesitation.
"Well… that's unfortunate."
Dam Yeohae smiled, like a wolf that had found its wounded prey. It was a truly chilling, sinister joy.
Tl note:
oh my god, i just check the raw again and realized that what Dam Yeohae said to chung myung was "약해졌구나?" not "악해졌구나?". So its, "weak (약해)", not "wicked (악)". Sorry my eyes are really bad aaaaa.