Surviving in a Romance Fantasy Novel-Chapter 169: Cold Wind (1)

The Imperial Tomb on the outskirts of the Imperial Garden had always been a place where mysterious spiritual energy flowed.

Walking through it, one couldn’t help but feel the eerie illusion that the long-deceased imperial members of past generations were silently watching.

It was a world where vengeful spirits ran rampant like ghosts, so perhaps seeing a spirit or two wouldn’t have been such a strange occurrence.

Thinking of it that way, it was only natural that every time I walked through this desolate place, an unpleasant shiver crept up along my spine.

Passing countless tombs that cast long shadows along the path, I finally reached the deepest part, where I inserted an old key into the stone tomb.

Creak.

The moment the wooden door opened, a surge of yin energy burst forth from within, as though trying to engulf the entire area.

A strong gust of wind blew through, causing the hem of my uniform to whip in the air.

Other than the sound of the wind, the only thing that reached my ears was the fluttering of my clothes.

Just as I was about to shake off the pressing wave of yin energy—

Whooosh!

In the blink of an eye, as I closed and opened my eyes, my entire field of vision was filled with a huge blade.

The Sword of Heaven and Earth.

Its front edge was forged from black steel, the rear from white steel; it was a blade imbued with a mysterious energy that would never rust no matter how much time passed.

As that sword came flying toward my face as if to cleave it in two, I quickly drew my own blade and blocked the strike.

Claang!

No warning.

No introductions, no words to exchange.

As if its only goal was to strike down its opponent, it had charged the moment the door opened, aiming to split my skull in half.

It had the shape of a person.

But at times, decayed and rotting flesh peeked through, and blood flowed down its body, soaking it completely.

Despite having been buried inside the Imperial Tomb for such a long time, the body had retained its form.

That meant there was already a presence protecting that corpse.

[Once again, you’ve come walking to your own death.]

The voice was deep and heavy. It carried a heavy stillness.

It was likely the voice that this body’s so-called father had used during his lifetime.

Naturally, I had no memory of it, so there was no reason for any emotion to stir.

The rugged muscles bulging across his body seemed to replicate his living form exactly, and the seasoned skill radiating from the hand gripping the sword made the title of Sword Master not feel out of place.

Sword Master Seol Lee Moon.

He had stood at the very beginning of this entire story, the most renowned Sword Master in the history of the Cheongdo Empire.

Claang!

The quality of his sword strikes was on another level.

Just exchanging a single blow with him would crush the bones of an ordinary man.

That Sword Master possessed the innate ability to surpass every swordsman in the Cheongdo Empire by presence alone, but now, after having absorbed the power of the Plague Demonic Spirit, he had become something beyond human.

To claim, in physical form, one who had dedicated his entire life to the path of the sword—

When the Plague Demonic Spirit took possession of Seol Lee Moon’s body, it must have felt as though it had gained a priceless treasure, drunk with joy.

Claaang! Whooosh!

Just parrying one blow forced me backward, and I had to roll out to land safely.

Inside the misty ancestral shrine, rows and rows of tombs stood in silence.

There, from within the Imperial Tomb, a decayed and rotting corpse walked out with heavy steps, resting the huge Sword of Heaven and Earth against its shoulder, and spoke.

[Yes. I knew it would come to this in the end.]

He was the most difficult and formidable enemy I had ever faced in my entire life.

Above all, he was the one who had already killed me more than once.

The Plague Demonic Spirit was the one who had cut me down, no matter how many times Yeon Ri overturned the world and overturned it again.

Through countless cycles of reincarnation, the Plague Demonic Spirit had never once failed to kill Seol Tae Pyeong.

The very fact that the cycle had yet to end was proof of that.

[Truly, it’s exhausting.]

The king of the demonic spirits spoke while borrowing a human body.

That low, subdued tone already carried the chill of death.

The demonic energy pouring from his entire body seemed like the embodiment of death itself, rising to overturn the world.

[Kill and kill and kill again, yet that accursed Heavenly Maiden keeps binding me to this cycle. Just as the flow of the human world goes, just as the weak are consumed by the strong, I simply kill and kill again.]

“…..…”

[She acts as though she’s above it all, accepting the flow of fate with serenity… but that Heavenly Maiden is the very one who cannot accept the natural order more than anyone else.]

It was unexpected how composed his tone was.

The high officials who had been controlled by the Plague Demonic Spirit’s blood were all consumed by madness, so it had been assumed that the spirit’s true form must also be a raving demon.

However, demonic spirits that carried demonic energy beyond their limits began to develop intellect.

And it was always those intelligent demonic spirits who led people astray and drove them into ruin.

[The weak die. What’s so grand about that natural law that you would deny it so fiercely?]

“…..…”

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[Even if you stall and endure like this, nothing will change. Do you truly believe that the Heavenly Maiden, who endlessly repeats suffering, is someone with a strong and righteous heart?]

The Plague Demonic Spirit let out a derisive snort.

[That woman is nothing more than a madwoman driven insane by her fear of death. You’re just a pawn being used by a lunatic.]

“Now that I hear it, you’re not exactly wrong.”

[Indeed. So at the very least, let me be the one to put an end to that pitiful life.]

Only then did the corner of the Plague Demonic Spirit’s mouth finally curl upward.

The flesh on one side of its jaw had almost completely rotted away, leaving behind a grotesque and horrifying appearance. Only then did it finally feel like the madness of that Plague Demonic Spirit I knew was seeping through.

I rose to my feet, shook the blood from my sword, and took a deep breath.

“Fine. At least you’re not bothering to tack on some drawn-out justification. You kill because you want to kill. And now you’re saying I should die too. Honestly, I prefer that kind of simplicity.”

[What?]

“You’ve spent countless years tangled in the politics of Cheongdo too, so you must know. Humans live and die by their sense of justification. Whatever they do, they feel the need to attach reasons to it, to make up some excuse.”

The reason the king of the demonic spirits killed people.

It was simply because he wanted to kill them.

Because that’s just the kind of creature he was.

A being that lived so thoroughly in accordance with its nature that, when standing against this Plague Demonic Spirit, there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation in raising my sword.

Good and evil, right and wrong. Those concepts had already been left far behind.

It killed because it wanted to.

I killed because I didn’t want to die.

With that kind of brutal logic behind every strike, there was no room for doubt in the blade I wielded.

[With each cycle of reincarnation, you seem to grow more detached from life.]

The Plague Demonic Spirit with a face smeared with a bloodstained grin tightened its grip on its sword again.

[I’ve clashed with you dozens, even hundreds of times, yet now that it’s finally come to an end, I find myself overcome with emotion.]

“Getting sentimental now, are you?”

[Not sentiment. Just the dull, suffocating weight of monotony. This really is the end of it.]

Even the simple act of it planting its foot on the ground to leap sent a thunderous tremor rippling across the entire graveyard.

It was only natural that its sword’s movement couldn’t be seen.

Blood scattered through the air, and the blade swung by the most renowned Sword Master in the history of Cheongdo came slashing down without a shred of mercy.

Whooosh!

At the tip of that slash, great killing intent lingered.

A sword imbued with killing intent could sever a person’s limbs with a single misstep.

Humans, whose flesh could not regenerate, were fragile enough to die from just one strike.

Claang!

Because of that, I had to summon every ounce of strength just to block each clash.

The immense force surging up from Seol Lee Moon’s body drove the human mind to its very limits.

Pasak! Claang!

Just blocking a single strike had shattered my sword into pieces and scattered them away.

I leaped far back and, grabbing the hilt of a ceremonial sword placed around the grave, drew it without hesitation.

Each time I jumped back, it pressed in even deeper, trying to cleave me in two with a single blow.

It looked determined to cut me down in one swift strike, just like it had done countless times before, and then charge straight toward the imperial capital.

To it, killing Seol Tae Pyeong was nothing more than a step in the process.

It had done it so many times already. Just as it always had, it would kill me again and move on.

– Tae Pyeong-ah.

As I gritted my teeth to block each and every strike, what flashed through my mind were the words of one foolish Heavenly Maiden.

Words from a girl so utterly ignorant and dim-witted, she tried to save the world by repeating a cycle of reincarnation no one even acknowledged.

– Even if the memories of reincarnation don’t remain, the soul of a person still gets tempered.

– Each time you fought that monster, again and again, you were never completely powerless.

– You resisted, fought back, and kept inching closer to that creature’s death. You didn’t just keep dying the same way over and over.

– You might think this endless reincarnation is just the same foolish idiot taking steps in place… but I think differently, Tae Pyeong-ah. You were moving forward. Maybe I was the only one in this world who could see it, but at the very least, I saw it clearly.

Claaang!

Taaang!

Blades clashed, scraped against each other, and shattered once again.

Unable to parry even a few exchanges without my sword breaking, I kept grabbing ceremonial swords nearby to fend off each attack.

My body became covered in cuts, and I had to grit my teeth against the force that kept pushing me back.

Even so, I was taking each and every strike from that monster head-on.

– Tae Pyeong-ah. Doesn’t that arrogant demonic spirit look like there’s nothing under the heavens it fears?

– Maybe it did seem that way. With such overwhelming power arriving into this world, cutting down humans like chunks of meat and committing massacres… it probably felt like there was truly nothing left under the heavens to fear.

– Even so, Tae Pyeong-ah. Even that monster, the very embodiment of terror, has something it fears. No one had ever managed to teach that creature what fear was. But there was exactly one person who engraved it into him.

I caught the blade again and again, deflected it, forced myself back up, and pushed strength into my movements, trying to find an opening in that monster’s guard.

I fought, blocked, and rose again…

Though I should have died in a single blow, I kept closing the distance to that overwhelming beast over and over.

Hwaaak!

Kwaaak!

In an instant, I twisted the blade of the Heaven and Earth Sword with a spinning kick, then drove the broken sword I held in reverse grip into the creature’s nape.

I twisted my body in a wide arc, kicked the monster’s head away, and then leaped far back again to create distance.

Psshhk! Pwoooosh!

Blood sprayed from its neck.

If it had been human, that strike would have been fatal, but the king of the demonic spirits didn’t even treat the wound as a scratch.

It simply looked down at the sword embedded in its nape… then briefly turned its cold gaze toward me.

– Tae Pyeong-ah. Your very existence is the greatest fear of the Plague Demonic Spirit.

A girl who had sat atop the Heavenly Jade Pavilion of the Heavenly Dragon Hall and watched over all things in this world once told me that.

The first time that creature faced me, it had likely killed me in a single strike.

The next time and the time after that, it probably did the same. Cutting me down in one blow, then heading toward the imperial capital.

Again and again, killing this pitiful Sword Master, the king of the demonic spirits had roared his power across the world.

Even as the cycle of reincarnation repeated over and over, this young Sword Master had never stood a chance against the Plague Demonic Spirit.

I died, died, and died again.

But one day, the anomaly appeared, without warning.

Clang!

A single clash.

The moment finally came when this pitiful Sword Master who had always died so helplessly endured the Plague Demonic Spirit’s first strike.

It had been an unexpected counterattack, yet even then, the Plague Demonic Spirit would have dismissed it with a click of its tongue, sneering as if it were nothing, then slicing down that Sword Master without hesitation.

And so, through countless ages, each time it killed and killed again… only then might the Plague Demonic Spirit have slowly begun to grow familiar with a feeling called dissonance.

The boy who had once endured a single exchange began to endure two.

Then three, then four.

He struck back once in a while.

He raised his blade and stepped in close.

He hurled his body to measure the distance, then seized the thread of a counterattack.

Sometimes, a strike thrown with death in mind would land a solid hit, and other times, even his most desperate blow would be casually brushed aside.

Even without memory, the soul was tempered.

As if to prove that truth, the monster grew by feeding on the Plague Demonic Spirit’s demonic energy as nourishment.

Even after being killed again and again, the Sword Master who returned to stand before the Plague Demonic Spirit kept coming steadily and drawing closer to its level.

That Sword Master, whom it had thought would remain forever far below, climbed the cliffs, pushed through the storm and wind until at last, he clawed his way right to its feet and seized its ankle.

Even if he ended up drenched in blood and battered beyond recognition, he never truly died.

He carried on his back the Heavenly Maiden who sat proudly atop the Heavenly Dragon Hall, who carved away at her own life to restore his again and again.

And like that, he came, step by step, ever closer.

– You’ve spent plenty of time on the battlefield, Tae Pyeong-ah, so you know this well. Those who die in a single blow don’t even get to feel fear. Their eyes go wide; their faces wear blank and confused expressions. Isn’t that right?

The corpses truly steeped in fear were never found at the heart of a battlefield.

They were the hostages buried alive.

The prisoners who starved to death behind bars.

The bodies torn apart alive by demonic spirits.

The distortion etched onto their faces was the very mark of those who had truly understood fear.

Death was approaching.

Unlike on the battlefield, where a blade flew in with a single strike and severed a soldier’s neck.

This death came slowly, creeping at a sluggish pace, allowing one to feel it chasing after them.

In a sealed space, or in a rift cut off from time and space.

They could sense the aura of death crawling steadily up their skin.

The fear of death was born from slowness.

It was the kind of death that followed inch by inch, never rushing but never stopping, that drove people into the deepest extremity of terror.

Only then did the Plague Demonic Spirit understand.

As the endless cycles of reincarnation repeated over the infinite future, that slow but relentless Sword Master would eventually rise up and kill it.

Reincarnation itself was not particularly terrifying.

For the Plague Demonic Spirit, who had lived through countless eons, this brief stretch of rebirth was not nearly dull enough to be unbearable.

If it waited long enough, the Heavenly Maiden who had bound it would eventually pass away from the toll of her own lifespan, and once that happened, it would simply need to slowly consume the imperial capital. Until then, all it had to do was hide.

Time had always been on the Plague Demonic Spirit’s side.

And yet, the reason that monster had tried to escape this cycle of reincarnation by any means necessary—

The reason it had tried to end the cycle even a little sooner—

That reason… was fear.

Claaang!

The sword that received the Heaven and Earth Sword did not break this time.

It was because the weight had been skillfully redirected inward toward me. Even so, my body withstood the full force without being crushed.

The two swords trembled violently, locked in a struggle of strength.

With that sword between us, I opened my eyes wide.

Beyond the blade, the pupils of the Plague Demonic Spirit quivered for a brief moment.

No matter how many exchanges we had, I would not die.

That very fact was the greatest fear harbored by the Plague Demonic Spirit.

Claaang!

I struck upward at the Heaven and Earth Sword, seized my sword firmly, and stepped in close into its guard.