Blue-Red Twin Swords – 1
The master of Yeollak Pavilion smiled as if at ease and said to me,
"Haha, Great Hero Seonu. Our Sichuan branch of the Hao Clan would never…"
But I immediately cut him off.
With the force of a transcendental martial master's aura, I spoke firmly,
"You will have to take full responsibility for those words. The Hao Clan may not be given a second chance. I thought you would already understand this truth, but it seems people only awaken to reality after they have paid the price."
Then, without hesitation, I turned and said to Miss Tang,
"Let's go, young lady."
It was, of course, a threat—but not entirely false.
The Hao Clan was certainly useful, but if untrustworthy, they were worse than useless.
If the pavilion master didn't reveal what he was hiding before I left, I intended to contact Brother Hwa and have him dispose of the Hao Clan immediately.
And indeed, there was a reaction.
He hurriedly called after me, flustered.
"W-wait! Please wait a moment, Great Hero!"
I stopped and turned back to him with a cold gaze.
Sweating profusely now, he pleaded with me,
"N-never did I mean to conceal the truth. We simply lack precise information, and so I hesitated to speak rashly!"
As expected.
The bait had taken.
Outwardly, I gave a mocking laugh, then replied with an icy tone,
"Ah, I see. A very convincing excuse. Then I'll see you next time—though I can't say where that will be."
He squeezed his eyes shut.
And when he opened them again, his face was weary, his voice heavy.
"I will tell you. Guizhou… the Guizhou Province branches are not in a normal state."
I stared at him silently, signaling him to continue.
With the expression of a man resigned to fate, he went on,
"I don't know how much Great Hero Seonu already knows, but we too are unsure exactly which Guizhou branches are collaborating with the Blood Cult. Communication has broken down of late. However…"
I clenched my teeth unconsciously.
The Hao Clan of Guizhou cooperating with the Blood Cult…
It was shocking news.
Suddenly, the memory of the Yun Clan—who had caused the death of Demon Music Blade Man Jongim—flashed through my mind.
And then, my own clan, the Seonu Clan.
I cut in, asking coldly,
"What are the chances that it's all the Guizhou branches?"
He faltered, sighed, then answered,
"…Not impossible."
I exhaled a deep breath.
I had hoped that by destroying the Justice Guild early, I had blocked the Blood Cult's advance this time, unlike my past life. But perhaps I had been too optimistic.
If it were the entire Guizhou Hao Clan… then Guizhou might be in an even worse state than Sichuan.
Perhaps even the Seonu Clan, where my father lived, was already…
The pavilion master cried out desperately,
"B-but! The chances are still far greater that it is not so! Please, do not jump to rash conclusions…!"
I stared at him coldly.
What he feared most was likely the complete extermination of the Guizhou Hao Clan.
He, too, must have been deeply worried about the situation.
In that case…
I spoke with cold, unyielding authority,
"If there is no precise information, then we will have no choice but to annihilate the Hao Clan of Guizhou in its entirety."
His face turned deathly pale, as if hearing his own death sentence.
"Wh-what?!"
He looked moments away from collapsing in despair.
I let him suffer a moment, then tossed him a lifeline.
"But if you bring us accurate information, things may be different."
He jerked his head up and quickly asked,
"…You mean…?"
I softened my aura, meeting him with a serious gaze.
"I mean you must obtain precise information from the Hao Clan. To prevent the disaster you yourself fear."
After swallowing hard, he nodded nervously but firmly.
"Understood. I will do my utmost. I will uncover the truth of Guizhou."
His eyes now shone with determination.
That look—perhaps it was worth trusting him once.
I gave a faint smile and added,
"And relay this conversation directly to Great Hero Hwa Yeongbin. With the Hao Clan's ability, you can deliver it within two days, yes? And the report must be exact."
"…Leave it to me. I will convey it exactly as it is."
There was always a chance he might tamper with the message. But knowing that I could meet Brother Hwa at any time, he likely wouldn't attempt such a petty trick.
Besides, he now understood well enough that even the Hao Clan's Sichuan branch was not beyond danger.
With that, our conversation ended, and we walked out of Yeollak Pavilion.
Miss Tang exhaled heavily, as if releasing the breath she had been holding.
"Phew, that was so tense."
Then she looked at me with shining eyes.
"I don't know all the details, but you just secured intelligence on the Blood Cult's forces in Guizhou, right?"
I chuckled.
"More like I threatened them. Told them if they didn't bring proper information, we'd wipe them all out."
She shook her head in admiration.
"Incredible. That was so cool."
Cough!
Cool, was it?
Her words pricked at my conscience.
It wasn't me who could wipe out the Hao Clan—it was Brother Hwa.
I had merely borrowed his authority. Yet to be praised for it left me embarrassed.
But Miss Tang, not knowing the truth, gazed at me with sparkling, admiring eyes.
And… I didn't hate it.
In fact, it was a little gratifying.
I cleared my throat and changed the subject.
"Ahem. In any case, Lady Tang, are you ready to move?"
She looked puzzled.
"Move? To where?"
Grinning, I handed her a human-skin mask.
"To the Sucheon Society. But not as Seonu Jin and Tang Yeo-eun—rather, as someone else entirely."
She accepted the mask with a bright smile.
"Yes, let's go!"
At last, it was time to rescue Do Munseung—and to dig into the secrets of the Soaring-Heavens Swordsman, Mok woo-jeon.
***
Northwest of Yeongnam, at the southern edge of Sichuan, lay Deokchang.
There stood the Sucheon Society's headquarters, the center of the southern Sichuan sects.
At dusk, as the sun dipped low, the Society's gate guards chatted with relaxed expressions, relieved that the day had ended without incident.
"Shall we get a drink after duty tonight?"
"Good idea. Where to?"
"That place near Guho Street?"
It was then.
With the setting sun at their backs, two figures approached the Sucheon Society—one man, clad all in blue, and one woman, dressed head to toe in red. Even the tassels on their swords matched their attire.
Something about them was ominous.
Realizing their approach, the gate captain quickly barked orders.
"Hold! Everyone stay sharp!"
The guards spotted the pair and focused their wary gazes on them.
Step, step!
The two walked steadily toward the front gate—not fast, not slow.
And the guards soon saw that both their faces were bloodlessly pale.
Draped in red and blue, with such ghastly, pallid visages…
These could only be the infamous eccentrics of the martial world.
The captain hurriedly sent a man inside to report and shouted sternly at the pair,
"Stop there! This is the Sucheon Society! What business do you have here?!"
The man and woman exchanged glances—then burst into laughter.
"Kihahahahaha!"
"Ohohohohoho!"
Their eerie, ghostly laughter chilled the air.
The sound filled the space, forcing the guards to clutch their ears and stagger.
"Ughhh!"
"Ghhhaaa! Wh-what is this?!"
It wasn't simply that the laughter was unpleasant.
The sound was infused with overwhelming inner force—power so immense the guards couldn't even fathom, let alone endure.
Then, just as suddenly, the laughter ceased.
The man in blue spoke,
"We are the Blue-Red Twin Swords! Is the villain Mok woo-jeon, so-called greatest fiend of Sichuan, here?!"
His voice rang with a metallic timbre, strange and ageless.
The gate captain grit his teeth and shouted back,
"How dare you slander our lord! The Pavilion Lord is the greatest hero of Sichuan!"
The man sneered, voice cutting like steel,
"Pitiful fools—eyes yet blind to men's hearts! I have no wish to slaughter such wretches! Step aside at once!"
But the captain was a man of spirit.
If he would yield at a single threat, he would never have taken up the sword. He ground his teeth and roared,
"Draw blades! We guard this gate with our lives!"
The guards echoed him with resolve.
"Yes, Captain!"
Shing! Shing!
They drew their swords and charged at the pair.
But—
Swish!
In the blink of an eye, the man and woman were upon them.
"!"
A storm of palm strikes crashed into the guards.
Bababababam!
"Gaaahhh!"
"Ughhhhhh!"
"Khhaaaah!"
They had no time to react.
Eight guards were struck simultaneously, flung away in all directions.
Crash! Thud! Bang!
Like pebbles flung aside, the gate guards who had crashed into the walls and gates dropped to the ground, writhing like worms and groaning.
"Ughhh!"
"Euuuugh…."
Surprisingly, none of them seemed to be dead.
But not one of them was able to move.
The man and woman spared not a glance for the groaning guards on the ground.
They simply drifted like phantoms up to the front gate and pressed their palms against it simultaneously.
The next instant, the Sucheon Society's main gate exploded outward.
Kwaaaaaang!
***
The first expert the runner guard encountered inside was Mighty-Bear Swordsman Cha Hojung, who had been training in the courtyard just behind the gate.
Still in his thirties, a young prodigy who had already stepped into the realm of Peak Masters, he was one of only eight such masters in the Sucheon Society—and the leader of its strongest strike force, the Mighty-Bear Unit.
The guard's face lit up with relief to find him there, training alongside the fifty men of the Mighty-Bear Unit.
If it was Cha Hojung—hailed alongside Mok Ser-yeol, son of Lord Mok woo-jeon, as the future of the Sucheon Society—then a couple of odd eccentrics would be no problem at all. Especially not with fifty of the Mighty-Bear Unit at his back.
The guard shouted hastily,
"Captain! Strange figures are approaching!"
Cha Hojung fixed him with an arrogant gaze.
Go on, it meant.
"They were a bizarre-looking man and woman! They…!"
The words were cut off by an eerie laughter echoing from the gate.
"Kihahahahaha!"
"Ohohohohoho!"
At the sound, Cha Hojung's face froze, his scowl tightening.
For laughter to carry such overwhelming internal force—these were no ordinary intruders.
He barked an order to his men.
"Cease training! Mighty-Bear Unit, prepare for battle!"
The sweat-drenched warriors instantly stopped, their voices answering as one.
"Yes, Captain!"
"Yes, Captain!"
"Yes, Captain!"
Without further order, they moved like a single body, forming a wedge formation around their leader.
Perfect unison of voice and movement, with no wasted motion—an elite corps that would stand out anywhere in the martial world.
Then, with a thunderous boom, the front gate blew apart.
Kwaaaaaang!
Cha Hojung did not flinch.
He merely drew his greatsword in one fluid motion and shouted,
"Draw blades!"
The fifty Mighty-Bear warriors unsheathed their swords as one, unleashing a battle cry.
"Haaap!"
Shiiiing!
Through the shattered gate, two figures stepped—one man clad head to toe in blue, one woman in crimson. Both with ghostly pale faces.
They halted, staring at Cha Hojung and his men.
The man in blue called out,
"The Blue-Red Twin Swords have arrived! Where is the villain Mok woo-jeon, greatest fiend of Sichuan?!"
That metallic, ageless voice grated in the air.
Cha Hojung snarled back, his booming voice ringing with indignation.
"Blue-Red Twin Swords?! 'Greatest fiend of Sichuan,' you dare say?! How dare nameless riffraff of the heretical paths profane the lord's honored name!"
The pair burst into simultaneous laughter.
"Kihahahahaha!"
"Ohohohohoho!"
A ghostly wail, chilling the marrow.
The courtyard quivered with their laughter, and the Mighty-Bear warriors grimaced in pain.
"Ughhh?!"
"Damn it?!"
Even Cha Hojung, a Peak Master, could not help but wince.
Not just the inner force laced in the sound, but the resonance of their twin voices seemed to shake even the soul.
"A dual sound technique wielding sonic arts?!"
He wasted no more time.
"Mighty-Bear Unit! Attack!"
His men, shaking off the oppressive sound, roared and surged forward.
"Haaaap!"
No hesitation marred their charge. Pure reflex, drilled into them through endless training.
Fifty wolves leaping at two lone foes.
Cha Hojung's lips curled into a sneer.
Even if they were stronger than him, fifty blades together could not be stopped.
But then his eyes widened, ready to burst from his skull.
"Im-impossible!"
The woman in red moved first.
Gliding like a phantom, she slipped past the leading warrior's sword and slammed a palm into his chest.
Booom!
"Ghhhaak!"
That much was expected—she was clearly a master. One down.
But what followed defied belief.
She spun backward in a sweeping arc, never letting go of her partner's hand.
And in her place, the man in blue shot forward—straight into the storm of three swords already falling toward him.
Shuuuuak!
He ignored them utterly.
Instead, his leg whipped out like a cyclone.
The result was catastrophic.
Cha-cha-changg! Babababam!
His leg batted aside blades and men alike, as if striking steel hammers. Swords shattered, bodies flew.
"Ughhhk!"
"Arghhh!"
"Khhhaaaah!"
Three warriors blasted backward like cannon shot.
The men behind faltered, unwilling to cut down their own comrades now hurtling toward them.
And into that gap, the woman in red surged again, spinning like a vortex and slamming her foot into them.
Bababababam!
"Ghhhaaaak!"
"Arggghhh!"
"Khhuuuh!"
More warriors flung aside.
And once again, the man in blue whirled forward like a storm.
Bababababababam!
It was like watching a living Taiji diagram—the man in blue and woman in red, hands clasped, revolving in perfect, devastating rhythm.
The unheard-of cyclone assault ripped the Mighty-Bear formation to shreds.
Cha Hojung's heart raced.
If this continued, annihilation was inevitable.
He hastily cloaked his greatsword in blazing yellow sword qi.
Then charged.
"Haaaap!"
The colossal blade that had earned him the title of Mighty-Bear Swordsman hurtled toward the clasped hands of his foes.
Break the link, and the cyclone would fall apart.
But before his blade struck, the two released each other's hands of their own accord.
"What?!"
Startled by their sudden release, he had no time before the man in blue darted at him—faster than lightning, momentum still carried from their whirling assault.
Though abrupt, Cha Hojung did not panic. A Peak Master does not falter.
He twisted his blade, thrusting at the man's chest.
Thud!
It seemed to pierce him—
But no.
The man's body flowed like petals in the wind, deflecting the greatsword with a supple motion.
Cha Hojung's eyes bulged in shock.
"What?!"
Then came the blow.
A dull, crushing impact slammed into his jaw.
Crack!
And his consciousness vanished.
The man's palm strike had shattered his chin, felling him in a single blow.
The Sucheon Society's most feared strike force—the Mighty-Bear Unit—was undone by only two people.
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