Break Little Azure Sword.

When I listened to the old man, my first thought wasn’t whether I could do it.

Setting aside how it could be done, what mattered here was justification.

A justification to break Little Azure Sword.

Marching up to Namgung Seong and saying, “I need to break you a bit—care to give permission?” would never fly.

I’m curious about your skill, so let’s have a match. Would Little Azure Sword agree to that?

He wouldn’t. The reason being—

‘Men with a lot to lose are the most afraid.’

Namgung Seong. His surname alone puts him in one of the Five Great Clans that undergird the Martial Alliance.

Add the sobriquet Little Azure Sword, and if he loses a fight, he stands to lose more than one thing.

In that situation, would Little Azure Sword try to fight me?

‘Against someone whose full strength he can’t gauge?’

If he were one of those lunatics obsessed with martial arts, maybe. Unfortunately, Namgung Seong wasn’t that type.

If anything, he was closer to me.

A fight where even if he wins he gains little, and if he loses he bleeds—Namgung Seong was unlikely to accept it.

So I thought of this.

‘Don’t make him consider accepting—make him unable not to.’

I had to set the board so he wouldn’t even dare to hesitate... and, well, a few things came along at the right time.

‘Thanks to that, the job got easy.’

If there’s something to tie down, you just tie it down.

If it’s a lie, add to it until it becomes truth, and fit the situation to it.

This board was built that way.

[When did you gather an audience again...?]

The old man sounded impressed, but I couldn’t answer. Namgung Seong was right there, and first-rate and above have sharp ears.

‘When...? Roughly before he arrived.’

I’d let a word slip in advance.

I went around to the agents and said, just between you and me, it looks like I’ll be doing a friendly spar with Little Azure Sword in a bit.

‘Just between you and me.’

There’s nothing less believable than that line.

They would absolutely not keep it to themselves.

And indeed—

‘Here we are.’

A crowd laid out all around the platform.

I took a hidden deep breath under the press of all those curious eyes.

Not easy. Having this many eyes on me.

That’s really not an easy thing.

‘Tch.’

What a sight. Life... you really can’t predict it.

I planned to earn enough and retire quietly, and here I am tangled in this kind of nonsense.

‘The vile spirits aren’t only clinging to Namgung Seong. They’re clearly clinging to me, too.’

If that isn’t a vile spirit, what is.

Damn old man.

[Those eyes are full of curses you’re holding in.]

‘...’

Even vile spirits read the room fast.

I held back a sigh and shook my head.

Tock.

I set my hand on the sword hilt and looked straight ahead.

Little Azure Sword stood in front of me. Face as good as they come, tall on top of it.

He glared like he meant to kill me, then quickly re-managed his expression.

From a chill in his features to the kindest look of anyone.

‘Well, well.’

That’s a skill worth learning.

I’ll file that away.

I was watching him with that thought when—

“I didn’t expect so many of you to gather,”

Little Azure Sword turned to the crowd and spoke.

“We only meant to share a light bit of camaraderie between us...”

I held back a snort.

‘Look at him laying the groundwork.’

Every word loaded.

“I didn’t expect so many of you to gather.”

— I didn’t invite anyone.

“We only meant to share a light bit of camaraderie between us...”

— It’s just some light tapping. I don’t intend to show my true heart.

‘Tch.’

He {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} must have a mountain to lose, putting on a show of courtesy while trying every word game he can.

Didn’t matter.

I already knew he’d come out like this.

“It’s truly embarrassing... but it was never meant to be secret. Since it’s come to this, please enjoy it with a generous heart.”

— Herd, reaffirm this: this is a casual spar.

He packed meaning into every phrase.

Whether people understood or not, they’d absorb it unconsciously.

That’s the kind of patter it was.

It wasn’t worth my time, so I brushed it aside and glanced to the side.

The old man was there, and that was the signal. Stop spectating and do what you came to do.

The board’s set; now it’s the old man’s turn.

“I don’t consider this a light spar.”

I kept it like I was addressing Little Azure Sword.

“Young Master Bang...?”

At my words, his brow creased for a beat, then, as before, he changed expressions at once.

“Ha-ha. I didn’t mean to say I’d take it lightly.”

“No, just now you said you were sharing light camaraderie.”

I caught his tail and pulled.

“I won’t take it lightly. Be serious.”

“...”

He went quiet for a breath, then—

“...I’m sorry to have phrased it so that it caused misunderstanding, Young Master Bang.”

I answered his quibbling with a smile. He even wore a faintly abashed look. Remarkable.

Even now, he was doing that.

“Yes, that’s right. One should always approach a match with sincerity.”

For no reason a chill slid down my back. I found myself squinting at him.

Would it be too much to tell him not to back out now?

Ugly or not, that might be better.

Sssk.

Before I could speak, Little Azure Sword drew his blade.

Not steel—a wooden sword.

And yet—

‘...Oh wow.’

The air got heavy. That was my instant impression.

The moment he gripped the sword and aimed at me, the atmosphere flipped.

Like pins and needles on my skin.

I thought back to when he’d been radiating killing intent earlier.

This wasn’t the same. It was thicker, farther-reaching.

‘Because he’s holding a sword?’

Could that simple difference change things this much.

Gulp.

I swallowed dry, quietly.

[Heh-heh. That Thunderbolt Sword brat. He really does roll high on the bloodline lottery.]

The old man’s gut appraisal of Little Azure Sword.

He was just holding a sword. That alone ramped the pressure.

If it were the old me, I’d have bolted already. Honestly, even now I wanted to.

‘The problem is I can’t.’

Life.

I smoothed my face, holding down the urge to cry.

[Now, draw already. I need to get ready.]

Whether he knew my state or not, the geezer issued his order like it was nothing.

Could I really drop a swordsman like that with this body?

I voiced the doubt in my head, but there was no method anyway.

‘Hoo.’

I drew a wooden sword to match Little Azure Sword.

Say I didn’t trust him—nothing would change anyway.

All I could do was trust and do.

[All right, let’s begin.]

With the old man’s breezy tone, at that instant, strength drained out of my body.

****

The Little Azure Sword, Namgung Seong.

Age twenty-three.

Born of the Namgung Clan’s direct line.

Said to resemble the Clan Head, the Sword King, in face and talent, and, by that talent, known as a promising late-stage prodigy.

Famous for kindness and for looking after those around him.

If he were to ascend as Clan Head, the Namgung Clan would shine all the brighter.

Many judged so.

In truth, Namgung Seong was somewhat different from the rumors.

There were so many differences it was hard to pick just one. If you named the greatest, you might call it a hidden sexual bent.

Namgung Seong liked women who screamed.

As a child, after watching a maid scald herself with hot water and cry out in pain, he began to feel sexual arousal at the sound of a woman’s scream.

If only it had stayed as arousal, it might have been tolerable—but at fifteen, unable to control it, Namgung Seong crossed a line.

He raped his own maid.

He inflicted pain to draw out her screams, and, watching that woman, Namgung Seong felt ecstasy.

And in the end he strangled her to death.

So it went for five years.

Up to the age of twenty, after his first victim, Namgung Seong raped several more, erased the traces, and lived as if nothing had happened. But—

‘How did he know?’

Someone appeared who knew Namgung Seong’s secret.

[White skin. A single mole on the bridge of her nose. Hair cut to the shoulders. About nineteen.]

That was the first line when he opened the letter.

He had been so shocked when he saw it.

Even if he barely remembered the ones after, that first one Namgung Seong could not forget.

The first woman he raped. The maid who served him—her appearance.

‘How?’

It had already been eight years.

The corpses had long since rotted into the earth, and within the clan there were only the rarest few who knew. No—he had believed there were none at all.

Because—

‘I cleaned up the ones who knew.’

Every witness, every accomplice, he had silenced with his own hands.

So he had lived believing it a perfect crime.

‘That bastard...’

How had he uncovered the secret?

Namgung Seong narrowed his eyes at his opponent.

Standing before him was a young man. Not tall, frame a little lean.

More boy than man in the face. Bang Sungyeon, called the Sword Saint’s successor.

This boy knew his secret.

‘What is he, really?’

He had already looked into him. Scion of a ruined clan, dragged himself up from a country backwater.

Came waving a recommendation—he must have drained every last coin of his family’s estate for that.

Originally, the kind of insect who wouldn’t even dare meet his eyes.

‘And that sort is the Sword Saint’s successor?’

Because the Sword Saint’s name had been tacked on, everything had turned upside down.

How could a thing like him inherit the Sword Saint? Namgung Seong couldn’t believe it.

‘Could it be the ruined Bang clan has some hidden secret?’

Perhaps that decayed family of Liaodong carried something concealed? He found himself wondering.

‘Damn it.’

Namgung Seong swore inwardly. Forget the Bang clan or Bang Sungyeon—this duel itself was the real problem.

‘...I need to act quickly.’

He had to end this fight soon and deal with the matter. He had to learn how this boy knew.

And he had to recover the Azure Dragon Orb. Once that was in hand—

‘I’ll erase him.’

Bang Sungyeon would die. However much he knew, he was clearly a thorn.

He had to be removed. One way or another.

Clack.

Namgung Seong leveled the tip of his wooden sword at Bang Sungyeon, eyes measuring him from head to toe.

There was something unreadable in his gaze. The boy’s face looked faintly nervous, even a little unsure.

‘That boy really killed the Mountain Ghost?’

The more he looked, the less it made sense.

To slay a pinnacle master? This youth had none of that in him.

Judging by presence alone, at best he was second-rate.

That was the measure he saw.

He could read it in his posture.

No strength in the hand that held the sword. The waist hollow, unable to anchor the center.

The shoulders crooked, riddled with openings.

One stroke.

In a single exchange Namgung Seong could subdue him. That was how full of holes he was.

‘......’

Namgung Seong recalled their earlier exchange of words.

He had put strength into his eyes.

If this boy were truly nothing, he wouldn’t have spoken in that manner.

There was something. Perhaps even this was a ploy to loosen his guard.

So he thought. But even if so, it didn’t matter.

Namgung Seong raised his aura as he looked on.

‘...Don’t delude yourself.’

Mountain Ghost or Blue Moon Sect bodyguards—

Even if you killed a pinnacle, don’t think you are my equal.

Whatever intention brought you to challenge me, it was an insult.

‘How dare you.’

Did you believe you could win against me?

That laughable arrogance would block your path forward.

Namgung Seong steeled himself.

Guuuuh—!!

Still so pitiful a sight.

He eased forward a cautious step when—

Swish.

Bang Sungyeon moved—

Sssk.

‘Huh?’

Namgung Seong froze, clutching his throat.

Just now—his neck had been cut. Or so it seemed.

Eyes wide, he clutched at his neck. But strangely his throat was whole.

‘What...?’

He couldn’t understand. A trick of the mind? He thought so for an instant when—

“Best not drift off in the middle.”

A voice ahead. Bang Sungyeon walking toward him as he spoke.

And then—

“......!”

Namgung Seong’s eyes flew wide. The boy approaching with steady steps.

The same face as before, the same stance—but seeing him, Namgung Seong swallowed dry.

Different.

Something was wholly different.

‘...No openings?’

The gaps from before were gone.

Even walking forward, he showed no opening.

Strength had filled the twisted stance.

Step.

Bang Sungyeon stepped forward—

Flinch.

Namgung Seong recoiled without realizing.

“Hm?”

Bang Sungyeon tilted his head.

“Scared?”

“...What did you say...?”

“I haven’t done anything yet. What’s there to be scared of?”

His amused grin made Namgung Seong scowl.

“Looking at you, you really do resemble him. Should I praise your perceptiveness instead...?”

“What are you babbling about?”

“Since I’m praising you, I’ll throw in a reward too.”

Bang Sungyeon dismissed his words with a flick of the hand.

“Come at me first. I’ll yield a couple of moves.”

“......”

Grind.

Yield? Did he just say he’d go easy on him? The insult shredded Namgung Seong’s pride.

To hear such words from that kind of worm—

‘Fine.’

Let’s see how far that arrogance carries you. Namgung Seong’s face twisted as he raised his sword.

‘You yield? I’ll take it.’

With his full strength he’d end it in one strike.

He would drive him into the dirt.

Namgung Seong slowly filled his blade with energy.

With it, he would unleash Namgung Clan’s secret sword—

Whsssh—! Crack!

“Guhhh!?”

But before he could—

A wooden sword struck him across the waist.

So hard his body folded nearly in half.

Thud.

“Ghhk... kuhuhhkkk...”

Namgung Seong dropped to his knees, spittle wetting the dueling stage.

The cost of taking the blow full on.

“Haaah... huhhh... huhhh.”

Drooling on the floor, he lifted his gaze. He stared up at Bang Sungyeon standing before him, asking with his eyes:

You struck before we even began—why?

His eyes begged with that silent grievance when—

“Ha.”

Bang Sungyeon sneered.

“Idiot. You believed that?”

“......”

“This is what’s wrong with your lot these days. Believing your opponent’s words and dropping your guard... tch tch.”

“You...!”

Hearing it, Namgung Seong made his vow.

Whatever it took, that bastard—he would kill.