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Parasitic Sword Monarch

Cultivators rule the multiverse, this is an indisputable fact, their ability to control the various elements and concepts grant the mightiest among them the right to stand tall above creation, dominating man and beast alike. Countless legends and mighty figures are spread throughout the multiverse, but none of this matters to the young boy born into a slowly declining clan in one of the larger universes. To him, all that matters is the safety of his clan and his family members, to reach that end, he would even wield the world itself as his sword and point the tip right at the throat of the heavens. (Note, I do not own the rights to the image used as a cover.) (and just in case it is necessary. Yes, Royalroad, this is my story and I allow it to be released there.)

ShiranuiShukumei · Oriental
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214 Chs

Golden flames of freedom.

Lang Huo's hands felt clammy as she looked at the figure standing in front of her. That proud straight back, the large sword stabbed into the stage in defiance. But above all, that blue mask, eternally grinning at her. She hadn't seen this blue mask before, but she would never be able to forget its counterpart. As red as blood, an eternal glare engraved into the rigid demonic face. Shortly after she saw that mask for the first time, she was forced to kill the one who used to wear it, her own brother.

She had thought about their reunion ever since she learned the truth, what she would say and what she would do. Would they be able to hug like the olden days? Would they be able to empty out their hearts and cry freely? Hundreds of different scenarios, but none of them had played out like this, with Yin Long dressed in his old attire and facing her on the stage.

"Oy, this is my batt...??!"

The man that had been pushed back when the robed figure, Yin Long, landed raised his voice to complain. But Yin Long's only response was to swing his weapon backwards, not even turning his head to glance. The weapon kicked up a fierce wind due to its weight, Lang Huo could feel the terrifying sharpness that accompanied that wind even though she wasn't the target of the attack.

The man seized up as the weapon swung towards him, the veins on his throat bulging strangely, it looked as if he was either choking or struggling with great pain. But the approaching sword and sharp wind didn't sever the man's head from his body, it stopped just a few centimetres away.

But Lang Huo saw a strange scene take place as the blade rested on the man's shoulder. He suddenly sucked in his cheeks and stomach, a nearly bestial and desperate hunger surfacing in his eyes. His legs trembled as a result, his body resembling a quivering leaf as drool leaked out from the corners of his mouth. What sort of law was contained within the attack, to produce such an effect?

Lang Huo didn't know, she had only been able to feel a terrifying sharpness as the sword swung out. The man also didn't seem to know, a mixture of confusion and terror emerging within his starving eyes. Yin Long still didn't turn back, he didn't need to. The man knew when to be sensible and stepped back, the bulging veins on his neck calming down as he stepped down from the stage.

He really wanted to curse his dogshit luck, first, he was unable to do anything against someone who didn't even look like they wanted to fight and then he was forced down in such a simple manner. Even worse was the fact that the scene had been broadcast to the entire dominion, it was nothing sort of humiliation.

"Some things are too heavy to be abandoned."

The voice of Yin Long, slightly muffled by the mask, drew Lang Huo's attention again, her eyes locking onto him. The back of his thick robe bulged slightly for a second before settling down, a sinister aura suddenly emanating from him. She knew him better than most, so she could feel that faint emotion in his voice. Anger. He was not satisfied with how she was acting.

He raised his sword again and charged at her, not even giving her time to respond. The distance between them was crossed in the blink of an eye, the greatsword descending towards her head, a move she herself had used far too often. Her own arm shot up and released a swathe of flames that coagulated and hardened until they resembled metal, a loud clank echoing across the area as the weapon collided with her defence.

But her mind was still a bit caught up in the previous battle so her defence was as lacklustre as her earlier attacks, a hollow shell with no substance. The hardened flames cracked and fell apart under the blade, the weapon cutting through the air mere centimetres from Lang Huo's shoulder.

How familiar wasn't this? Yin Long had told her so many times about this exact move, she was stronger than him so she just had to put her power into her weapon and she would be able to break his sword. But now their roles had been switched, he was using her sword to break through her defence. The fight may have ended right there if Yin Long hadn't subtly moved his blade away.

The greatsword smashed towards the ground, but he tilted it slightly just before the sharp edge dug into the stage. The flat side of the tip hit the blade, dispersing the force along the ground. And he took full advantage of that counter-force, using it to bounce his sword upwards in a diagonal manner while maintaining as much of the weapons force as possible.

"You think too much. Focus on what's in front of you."

Lang Huo hurriedly stepped back, Yin Long's voice waking her from her reminiscing. The blade cut through the air where her body had just been, the sharp air it carried pricking her skin. But there was no rest for her, Yin Long took a step forward the second his attack missed, using the gathered momentum to reverse the direction of the blade.

"Blood is just blood, it doesn't wash away memories and emotions. To abandon emotions because of blood is foolish, to give up memories because of blood is pointless."

Lang Huo hurriedly raised another defensive wall, the flames gathering around her palm coagulating into a solid wall that she tilted downward to deflect the blade. But the sword somehow seemed to find the absolute weakest point in her defence, breaking through the wall before she could deflect it.

The weapon should originally cut through her fingers, but the veins in her arm suddenly twisted as the blood within them moved against her will, forcing her arm down so that the weapon missed its target. But just as the greatsword passed in front of her chest, Yin Long took half a step forward, the momentum gained by the move used to halt the swing of the sword and morphing it into a forwards stab.

"If blood harms your emotions and stains your memories then you just need to fight, struggle and charge forward. Wash away that blood with life and progress. And if you don't think you're strong enough to do that, then live with it, embrace it. Someone made their choice and was content with it, that just means that you have to make your own choice, one that you can be content with. But never abandon those memories and emotions, otherwise, that blood will lose all value and just become dirty."

The stab was just barely avoided by Lang Huo by bending her waist to the side as if she was trying to form a >, but the sharp air carried by the attack still left a gash in her robes and tore a tiny wound into her side. Her heart was thudding, her breath almost stuck in her throat.

Others may not understand what Yin Long was saying, but how could she not understand? It was his blood that made her abandon her weapon, the blood that stained her hands was what made her reluctant to use all the things Yin Long had taught her. Did she deserve to use those moves, that weapon, after killing the one who taught her about them? Would she not be despised, hated and mocked by his ghost? He had died for her, but would he not at least hold a few grievances that he had to give up his life just for her?

But never once had he felt that. He was just happy, happy that even his death could be useful to his sister, that he could do something so simple to help her stabilize her position. He had never wanted his blood to make her abandon those memories, he only hoped that his blood would become another driving force that pushed Lang Huo onwards, that she would live her life happy enough for the both of them.

And at that moment, Lang Huo felt more shame than she had ever felt before. He had always thought about her, moved for her, died for her. But she? She spat on what he had taught her by abandoning it, she had tossed away her weapon and thrown away the memories engraved on it. He had died for her, and all she did was insult his sacrifice by going against everything he wanted for her.

"I'm sorry, for a lot of things. You'll never see any of them again."

Lang Huo raised her arm as she spoke, the flames coagulating around her arm to form a gauntlet. She grasped the sword that had just pushed past her, clutching it like a vice as her expression regained its vigour. She had insulted him for long enough, spat on the memories for far too long already. It was just a shame that he had to personally show her that she had been wrong, a shame that he had to see her in such a pitiful state.

She yanked her arm back with all her might, Yin Long loosening his grip on the sword so that she could pull it from his grasp. She tossed the weapon into the air so that it spun slightly, catching it by the handle and resting the tip against the stage, the air around her starting to rapidly heat up. She couldn't see his expression, but she was confident that Yin Long was currently wearing a soft and gentle smile, the same smile he had shown her so many times in the past.

"Good. I l...?"

Yin Long started to speak after she took back her weapon, but a swathe of raging flames burst out from Lang Huo before he could finish his declaration of surrender. The flames that washed out from her body gathered in the air behind her, spinning around each other as they formed a spiral that quietly distorted the air around it due to the heat.

The flames continued to move along the spiral, intertwining with each other and reinforcing each other, rapidly growing stronger and hotter. Their crimson colour grew deeper and deeper, a tinge of golden appearing within the spiral and quickly overtaking the entire thing. The flames that surrounded her were all dyed a brilliant gold, radiating an unearthly heat as she stood there.

She knew Yin Long better than most, she didn't need to see his expression to understand what he was planning. He had come here donning a mask and thick robe to hide his identity, that way no one in the Sunsong Province would be able to recognize him as the sinner of the Lang clan. If they learned that fact then there would definitely be people antagonistic towards either the Lang clan or Lang Huo herself that would use that information to undermine her and challenge her position.

Even now, after she had killed him and he had left the clan to forge his own path, did he care so much about her. His own fame didn't matter, his own reputation didn't matter, he just wanted her position to be stable, for her to be able to lead a calm life where people didn't go against her. And to that end, he was ready to pay almost any price.

But she could not accept that. She had spat on the things he taught her with how she acted after she killed him, but he spat on her and her emotions with his actions. That mask he was donning right now was perhaps the greatest insult of her life. And she was done accepting it.

"It's just like you said. Someone made their choice, now I just have to make a choice that I can be content with. And let me tell you, my choice is very simple. If my position can only be stabilized by the sacrifices of my brother, then I'd rather not have it at all."

The corners of her lips curved up naturally as she spoke. When was the last time she had felt this free and gratified? She couldn't remember, her hand swinging out in a nonchalant manner. The golden flames behind her rushed forward and washed over Yin Long, they moved so fast that they seemed more like lightning than fire, leaving no room for him to dodge.

But the flames didn't scorch him, didn't scar his skin. But the large robe he wore, the blue mask that covered his face, they couldn't handle the heat that assaulted them and turned to dust that blew away with the flames. By the time the flames receded, Yin Long was left standing there with just a pair of pants on.

His face was perfectly visible, the yellow-veined crimson wings tucked closely against his back as a yellow crack split his forehead down the middle, pulsating faintly. Everything he had done to hide his identity, gone in an instant, his figure revealed to everyone who was watching the recording of the match. And of course, this included everyone in the Sunsong Province. Yin Long and Lang Huo knew exactly what this meant, but Lang Huo maintained her smile without a single worry, even willingly making things worse.

"No more hiding, Lang Yin...Sorry, Yin Long. Spread those wings and soar freely, show the world how sharp that blade is."