Chapter 1062: Is This How It's Done? (Part 2)

Kwaaaaaaa!

The sky collapsed from above. The demonic energy, dyeing everything black and engulfing in its approach, felt like the arrival of hell itself.

It was a death sentence, an embodiment of the end. In the thick despair, a sword stained with the hues of sunset moved. Like a ray of light, or like a hallucination. And like a moment from the past.

A sword is just a sword. It is nothing but a cold blade made of metal.

But to the wielder, the sword is not just an emotionless blade stuck to its hilt. Everything about the one who wields it is contained at its tip.

Perhaps it's sublimity. Perhaps it's confidence.

And maybe... at that moment, the sword, no, at the tip of the blade, it lingered...

'Extend.'

Pure qi rose from the tip of the foot, gathered at the fingertips, and converged onto the sword.

A sense of unity where the sword and the body become one in an instant. Sharpness created by a sense honed to an extreme degree. And the satisfaction derived from it.

The sword that encapsulates all of this just moves forward.

'Just once!'

The eyes of Chung Myung, holding the sword, emitted a fierce determination. A sword can be swung again. Even if it cuts through the air, just swing it again, stab it again.

But the flying knife is a one-strike kill.

Once the flying knife leaves the fingertips, it's over. There won't be another chance. In the oppressive atmosphere that even the word "ferocious" falls short of describing, Chung Myung drew a line with his sword. It felt as if everything had stopped except for the sword flying through the air.

A line is fundamentally something that connects. It draws a line between things that should not touch and connects them.

The line drawn by Chung Myung's sword connected the present where he stood now to a faraway past that had faded away.

Cracks in time split and split again. Thoughts accelerated at an unprecedented rate. In a world relatively slowed down, Chung Myung felt a burning thirst.

'It's not enough!'

This is not it.

'Barely there!'

The flying knife of Tang Bo in his memory was never such a half-hearted strike. A flying knife that seemed to carry one's soul in a single flight. Like a meteor in the dawn, cutting through a moment and disappearing, but that's why Tang Bo's flying knife was more dazzling than anything else.

So it has to be faster. It has to be more precise, and it has to be more powerful! More and more!

At that moment, a phantom-like voice brushed against Chung Myung's ears.

- Taoist-hyung is always in such a hurry.

One day in the past, Tang Bo said to him as if jokingly.

- There are undoubtedly many things you want to contain. However, if you fill it all, it just becomes heavy, doesn't it? Like the shoulders of Taoist-hyung. Can you properly swing a sword with heavily burdened shoulders?

The voice sounded as clear as if it were whispering right next to him.

- If you want to throw a proper flying knife, you have to empty it rather than fill it. The end of the flying knife should be light. The more you want to contain, the more you empty. Isn't that what the Tao in martial arts is talking about? Of course, I'm not sure whether a word like that can be understood by someone like Taoist-hyung...

Even the laughter mixed with that voice tickled the ears. Truly, at this moment, it felt like a certain moment from the past continued.

- Someday, if that becomes possible...

Everything that bound Chung Myung was cut off. What remained was the sensation of the sword touching at the fingertips. The sensation spread throughout Chung Myung's entire body.

Flying knife (物) and self (我) become one (一體).

Sword (劍) and body (身) are connected (合一).

- Then I don't know. Taoist-hyung's sword might really reach the Heavenly Demon.

Chung Myung advanced through the dark world stained with shadows. The tip of the sword pointed to the origin of that darkness. And that strike was the sword shot by Chung Myung, and the flying knife thrown by Tang Bo in the distant past.

Chung Myung, who connected the unconnectable, aimed the blade, which would exterminate demons, at the heart of the demonic creature.

'I am here!'

That was an undeniable fact. But everything about him was undoubtedly connected to the past.

The sword, which has formed harmony (渾然) and transcended the self (無我), returning to nature (自然), finally divides the world as it should.

And at that moment, the gazes of Jang Ilso and Chung Myung met.

Even in the flow of time almost coming to a standstill, it was clear. The wry smile on Jang Ilso's face.

Jang Ilso raised his arm. It was a gesture that seemed too feeble and powerless to resist the giant darkness covering the head. However, at that moment, a bitterly cold flame spewed out from Jang Ilso's entire body.

Paaaaah!

His last remaining internal power poured out, rising against the overwhelming demonic energy.

The fiery blue flames collided with the black magical energy in the empty space. The flames, although overwhelmingly feeble to block the pouring demonic energy, created a minute but clear gap.

A subtle but clear crack opened in the solid iron wall that had seemed unbreakable. No, Jang Ilso had pried it open.

The exchanged gazes diverged, and Chung Myung's body passed right beside Jang Ilso. In that very moment, Jang Ilso's hand made perfect contact with the completely defenseless back of Chung Myung.

A voice that would never reach Chung Myung's ears seemed to brush by his ear.

"Go."

Paaaah!

With Jang Ilso's added force pushing his back, the sword soared beyond its limits and reached a miraculous feat.

At that moment, clear light returned to Danjagang's eyes, which had been clouded as he enveloped himself with the surging demonic energy.

'Sunset?'

It was a sight almost like a fantasy. The entirety of Danjagang, perfectly immersed in demonic energy, was astonishing enough to even reverse his rationality.

Danjagang had created a world seemingly void of any visible light, but a faint red glow emerged. The exceedingly feeble red light pierced through the deep darkness, gradually spreading.

As if reaching the end of a long night, light spread from the eastern sky like the glow of dawn.

This was the dawn (黎明). The end of the dawn and the beginning of another.

In the spectacle where reality and illusion intertwined, a white sword cut through the red twilight.

'What is this?'

Danjagang felt a sensation of dreadful death he had never experienced before. Like the dawn burning away the darkness, the sword flew, resembling the dawn, shattered everything in Danjagang and penetrating deeply towards his neck.

Kaaaaak!

In a moment that seemed like the world had completely stopped, dense silence descended. Everyone present looked intently.

The seemingly invincible figure, Danjagang, the bishop, had the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword piercing through his throat, rising eerily from the back of his neck.

Everyone held their breath.

It felt as if all sounds in the world were erased in an instant.

Despite the storm of energy still swirling around them, everyone felt that silence distinctly. A short yet intense tranquility.

Another.

From the end of the white blade that pierced through Danjagang's neck, a drop of blood fell.

And at that moment.

The dimly sinking eyes of Chung Myung and the seething gaze of Danjagang intertwined closely at a short distance from each other.

Spitting out regurgigated blood, Danjagang silently murmured something. Even if others couldn't understand, Chung Myung could clearly grasp the mantra.

"…sand Blessings."

Danjagang forcefully brought down the arm he had raised.

The sun of magic, not yet completely dispersed, fell over their heads. It was a scene akin to a mountain collapsing.

"Ah…!"

The pupils of everyone dilated.

"No, noooooo!"

With an enormous scream that could be from anyone, the demonic energy collided with the ground.

Kaaaaaaaang!

The demonic energy embedded in the ground surged with a force that seemed to crush everything. And soon, it covered the world in a storm of massive demonic energy.

"Uwaaaaaah!"

The disciples of Mount Hua, swept away by the storm like leaves in a typhoon, were sent flying without any way to resist.

Not only the disciples of Mount Hua but also the demonic practitioners who watched this fierce battle with stunned faces were swept away by the irresistible force like fallen leaves in the wind.

The disciples of Mount Hua, repeatedly thrown and slammed into the ground, groaned in pain.

Kaaaaaaaang!

Successive explosions followed, enveloping everyone as if it would burst their eardrums. It was a shock as if the entire world were collapsing at once.

Kwang! Kwaaaaaaaang! Kwang!

After the tremendous impact violently swept the ground.

Gradually, silence crawled in.

Twist.

Baek Cheon, who had become a mess mixed with the soil that had flown violently, trembled. His fingertips twitched with convulsions.

"Kkuu…"

As he spat out a groan, he regained his senses and raised his head vigorously.

"Che-, Chung Myung…."

Blood vessels began to appear in his eyes.

No matter how much he was Chung Myung… Could he have survived in the center of such an unbelievable explosion? Even he, swept by the aftermath, found it difficult to move his body.

"No, no…."

Crunch!

Baekcheon, crushing a rock in his hand, exerted strength on his body. Scratching and almost digging into the ground, he urgently looked around after lifting his body.

"Che-, Chung Myung! Chung Myungaaaaaaa!"

Chung Myung's figure was nowhere to be seen. Baek Cheon, who had involuntarily thought of an ending he didn't want to ever consider, screamed until his throat burst.

"Chung Myung! You bastard!"

"Sahyung!"

At that moment, Yoo Iseol's desperate voice pierced his ears.

"There!"

Baekcheon hastily turned to where she pointed. The earth, torn apart as if torn apart by a celestial being, revealed two dots of red and black in the middle.

"Che-, Chung Myung!"

"Ryeonjul-nim!"

Simultaneously, cries erupted from the mouths of Baek Cheon and Ho Gakmyung. The two of them started running with all their might towards the fallen Chung Myung and Jang Ilso.

At that moment, Chung Myung's lips, half-buried in the messed-up soil, faintly twitched.

"Ugh…"

As the lips, as if frozen, opened, the forcibly healed wounds split again, and red blood flowed down.

"Ugh…"

As he struggled to lift his eyelids, he saw Jang Ilso, also half buried in the ground, with his head bent.

Silently staring at that sight, Chung Myung, after a long struggle, managed to let out a hoarse voice.

"...Hey."

No response came.

"Hey."

At that moment, from Jang Ilso's mouth, which was hanging lifelessly, came a voice without any strength.

"...Why?"

Hearing that voice, Chung Myung frowned.

"Are you alive?"

Upon hearing that, a weak voice seeped out of Jang Ilso's mouth. It was an unexpected, lifeless voice that seemed unlikely to come from his mouth.

"...Probably... It feels like I'm dead though..."

"Is that so...?"

Chung Myung turned his body with great effort. When he forced the immobile body to flip over, he saw the sky. It was so blue that it made his eyes sting.

"That..."

The long night was over, and finally, morning arrived.

"...is a good thing to hear."

Chung Myung's chuckling laughter slowly spread through the quiet morning.