Try Living Well Without Me

Chapter 11





“Ugh….”

So So Namgung moaned as she stirred, waking from her faint.

Her head ached as though it might split open, and for a moment, she retraced her memories.

‘I was… in a duel with Sword Flower…’

In her desperation to capture the Masked One, she had forced herself to channel Primordial Energy, her vital force.

Having already overexerted herself during the Great Blood War, fighting alongside Bin Namgung, little remained of her Primordial Energy—just a meager residue. Still, it had been enough to pressure Sword Flower.

‘Right… I finally made Sword Flower kneel…’

She succeeded in toppling her opponent. However, Sword Flower, struggling to control her disordered flow of energy, rose again.

At some point, Sword Flower had also begun using Primordial Energy, just like herself.

After that… they clashed for hundreds of exchanges, both becoming critically injured. With nothing left to lose, they lunged at each other, each delivering their final strike with all-or-nothing resolve.

‘After that… I don’t remember anything…’

She didn’t need to ask anyone to know she had lost. Unlike Sword Flower, whose body remained relatively unscathed, her own bore a long, deep gash running from her shoulder to her waist.

The wound didn’t hurt.

What truly stung was the realization that she had failed to keep the Masked One by her side.

‘…This isn’t the time for brooding. Where am I?’

The sound of weapons clashing brought So So Namgung back to the present. She looked around to assess the situation.

The first thing she saw was a broad back, strikingly similar to that of Namgung Cheolbin, who had always protected her.

“!”

“Die!”

“Aaaargh! My arm! My arm…”

The figure turned out to be the Masked One. With his once-gray hair now tinged red, he had planted his left foot near where she and Sword Flower lay, defending against the advancing foes with relentless ferocity.

Every time his sword flashed, cries of agony rang out followed by the sound of thunder.

He wielded his blade so fast it was barely visible.

‘W, what is this…?’

The thunderous energy emanating from the Masked One’s sword felt strangely familiar.

‘Why… does it feel so familiar?’

Though countless sects across the realm employ thunder techniques, this one felt different—intimate, even comforting.

More than just familiar, it felt welcoming.

So welcoming that tears welled up in her eyes.

“Gleam…”

“Uh?”

People around her were falling like leaves in a storm, blood splattering everywhere, yet inexplicably, tears began to form in her eyes.

Though she knew she shouldn’t be crying in such a situation, and tried to stop, the tears would not cease.

“Have you awoken, Miss?”

A rough male voice pierced her ears.

It was unmistakably the voice of the deranged Blood Cult adherents.

“Y-Yes…”

‘Why does it sound… so good…?’

Excitement surged through So So Namgung as if she had finally heard a long-desired voice, making her eyes flicker.

“Please remain still. The Sect Leader of Mount Hengshan will soon handle this.”

His words snapped her back to reality. In the distance, she saw the Sect Leader of Mount Hengshan standing off against a towering man, surrounded by dozens of his disciples.

If the Sect Leader was handling things…

‘Then who are these people?’

The Masked One stood tall, his composure unshaken, protecting her and Sword Flower with a grace that radiated authority.

Around him lay the bodies of over a hundred enemies, while others clutched their wounded limbs, groaning in pain.

There wasn’t a single Mount Hengshan disciple present—all that remained were the corpses of their foes and the推测 remnants of the once-mighty Sword Mountain.

“Did you… do all this by yourself…?”

“The bleeding has been staunched. Please rest.”

Swish!

Zzzziiip!

“Aaaagh!”

Even while speaking, Byul Rak casually sliced through another opponent with ease, like stepping on an ant.

‘…Except he’s not an ant.’

So So Namgung’s eyes widened in shock as she recognized the fallen man. He was none other than Heavenly Axe Wang Zhiche, ranked fourth in the Wangsha Sect and notorious for killing a Mount Hengshan Elder before fleeing.

A madman who could be so effortlessly slain that he’d be mistaken for an insect.

Even more astonishingly, the person who had just performed an act that few could replicate treated it as if it were nothing.

“Why do you look at me like that?”

The Masked One seemed either genuinely unaware of whom he’d just killed or simply didn’t care.

“Who… who are you?”

‘I knew you were a master, but…’

At minimum, he was an absolute pinnacle-level expert, a reclusive genius capable of claiming one of the Twelve Great Seats should he ever enter the martial world.

“Our young Miss already gave you orders.”

“Wh-what?”

“Having lost to our young Miss, your deal with me is now over.”

“UUuuh…”

“For now, please stay still. The Sect Leader will clear out the remaining enemies, and I’ll continue to guard you.”

“Uuuhh…”

That’s right. She had lost.

The anxiety she’d momentarily forgotten returned, creeping over her like shadows.

Even with such strong protection, they were still in the middle of a battlefield. Panic began to rise again, threatening to overwhelm her.

‘What… what’s going to happen now?’

Should she let Byul Rak go?

Was she destined to live forever trapped by this inexplicable mental illness?

‘That… that can’t be!’

There was nothing she could do.

She had gambled on someone else’s subordinate, claiming them for a duel, and now she had lost.

“Sniff…”

As Byul Rak fought desperately before her, So So Namgung grappled with her inner demons, caught in the throes of mental anguish.

Originally, the Hengshan Sword Sect dominated Shanxi Province uncontested.

All martial sects—both righteous and villainous—paid tribute to the sect without question.

However, following the death of its Sect Leader, Iron Dragon Sword, during the Great Blood War, and the ascension of his younger brother, Returning Dragon Sword, the sect’s decline became rapid.

Falling to the lowest rank among the Nine Great and Eight Prestigious Sects, they found themselves struggling against ascending powers like the Taewon Jin Clan and the Wangsha Sect.

Given the structure of the Great Blood War, which decimated the strongest martial artists first, the present martial world was essentially made up of its leftovers.

Though there were exceptions—sects like North Honoring Shaolin, South Respecting Wudang, and the Namgung Family that had successfully navigated the war—they were rarities among the absolute powerhouses.

Thus, the current Sect Leader of the Hengshan Sword Sect, Returning Dragon Sword, found himself besieged with problems.

He was infuriated by having to pay tribute, supposedly as “protection money,” to the Wangsha Sect instead of receiving it.

Frustrated, and perhaps wanting to provoke a confrontation, he had stopped payments—only for the Wangsha Sect to suddenly launch a preemptive strike.

As expected of the dark path—they were no less savage than rumors suggested, drawing their weapons at the slightest provocation.

But what could he do?

The current state of the Hengshan Sword Sect was no match for Wangsha.

“Damn!”

The situation was dire. The dark sect’s forces surged inward like a flood.

They clearly outnumbered his own, perhaps by tenfold.

“Damn me… I’ve bitten off more than I can chew!”

If the Elders were still in shape, things might not be so bad.

Of the Hengshan Sword Sect’s three Elders, two had gone mad after the horrors of the Great Blood War, and the third had fallen to the Wangsha Sect last year.

“This is the end… If I hadn’t provoked them…”

He briefly entertained the hope that Sword Flower might save the situation, but quickly dismissed it when he couldn’t even spot her.

Thus, Returning Dragon Sword could only watch helplessly as his disciples—his third and second generation students—were cut down one by one.

When Wangsha finally approached him, the desperate Sect Leader was awakened from his panic.

“How have you been, Sect Leader? Have you reconsidered anything these past few days?”

It was the wolf-like voice of Wangsha himself that broke through his despair.

“Y-You listen here, Wang… No, no, Wang Sir! Wang Elder! I’ve made a terrible mistake! As Sect Leader, I’ve misjudged the situation completely!”

“Ho?”

“M-Money is no issue! I’ll pay whatever you ask for! Just please stop this! We’ll all die if this continues!”

“Hmm, could that be?”

“Listen here, Wangsha! What are you trying to do, huh!”

Wangsha swung his oversized sword, cleaving through three Hengshan disciples with a single strike.

“You should’ve said that earlier. Before I brought my army here.”

“Even we, despite our fall, are still one of the Nine Great Sects! Do you really think attacking us will leave you untouchable?”

“The current Wulin Alliance Leader, the Sword Lord, is too weak. Our Alliance Leader thinks we should give it a try. Back when the previous Wulin Alliance Leader hadn’t fallen to the Blood Demon, this would’ve been impossible.”

“Had it not been for the sacrifices of our sect and the Wulin Alliance, you wouldn’t even exist! How could you bite the hand that feeds you!”

“The Wulin Alliance? Hengshan Sword Sect? Funny, according to my information, wasn’t it Sword Sage and his elite team, including Jade Flower, who drove out the Blood Cult? Didn’t Sword Flower herself participate in that effort? Yet here you are, talking all high and mighty despite not even participating in the war yourself.”

“…”

The Sect Leader was speechless.

Wangsha’s words were all true, every single one of them.

It was true that the Blood Cult had been vanquished by a select few martial artists led by Sword Sage, and he himself had been busy handling the aftermath of the Great Blood War.

Just like the villainous Wangsha Sect, who had also preserved their strength.

“The Sword Sage himself ultimately turned out to be worthless. They say all his actions, his seeming heroism, were calculated lies!”

“Wangsha, you…”

“All heroes are dead. The mighty Dragon has fallen and the Tiger Blood Cult has been torn apart. The world is now left as prey for wolves and coyotes.”





That’s all… Right… It’s the same for you and me.”

“Hah! Heaven will not forgive you…!”

“So don’t feel wronged. Being born as a martial artist and dying by the sword is more common than you think.”

While Foryong Sword was talking to Wang Safang, the Hwangshan Sword Gate disciples had gathered behind him, each holding their weapons.

As Foryong Sword glanced back at them, he steadied his resolve and gripped his sword tightly.

‘Stay focused.’

In this place, he was the only one who could lead the disciples.

“Ho, shall we have a go?”

‘I must lead them.’

“Hmm, that’s fine. After all, you and I were born martial artists.”

To live and die for what?

That’s what it means to be a martial artist.

With that mindset, as he stuck out his tongue and watched Wang Safang approach with his great sword poised, suddenly—

“Aaaaah!”

“B-Boss! There’s a monster over there!”

“T-They’re all dead! From Sae-pal-i to Chil-sam-i, they couldn’t even withstand a single strike!”

At the cries of alarm, Foryong Sword turned his head.

The next moment, in his line of sight—

“What… What is that…!”

There emerged the sight of bodies piled high like “blood-soaked mountains and seas” from the time of the Zhengxue War, with a blood-drenched masked figure standing haughtily in the middle.

A masked figure that exuded no presence—thus making it all the more eerily unsettling.

“What is this? What happened here? Why are they like this!”

Wang Safang yelled loudly, uncharacteristically agitated.

But, overwhelmed by the blade-like aura radiating from the masked figure, no one dared speak up recklessly.

Those who had been screaming while fleeing from the masked figure now remained silent, their mouths closed like those of mutes.

“…”

Amidst the silence, it was only the masked figure who spoke.

“Is everything finished?”

“…!”

“…!”

Even with just the sight of being covered in blood alone, their appearance was plenty intimidating, and their voice, which was coarse and guttural, only added to the fear.

The combination was enough to conjure visions of an Asura from hell among the people there.

“Or… should we continue?”

Even with just two sentences spoken,

it was enough to upend the entire hall.

The members of Wang Safang’s group, one by one as if under a spell, began lowering their weapons.

Even their boss, Wang Safang, did the same.

Hwangshan Sword Sect understood that the sign of defeat wasn’t aimed at them, so they dared not step forward.

They could only gaze at the masked figure, filled with both unease and fear.

Wang Safang’s mind began working harder than usual.

‘N-now what should I do?’

He had never heard that Hwangshan Sword Sect had a monster like this.

No, wasn’t the Sect Leader of Hwangshan Sword Sect surprised by this person?

That means they must be a hermit who has been hiding their strength.

Judging from his white hair and coarse voice, he might be an elder. Yet, no matter what tricks he’s used, he’s not an ordinary person.

Just the mere presence of this blood and corpses alone is enough to show that it’s unnatural for someone at his peak as a grandmaster to feel so oppressed without speaking.

‘Could it be an elusive elder who has refined the golden powder technique?’

This theory was currently the most plausible.

‘But why would this elder… Ah.’

While Wang Safang carefully observed Byul Rak, his eyes caught the two figures standing behind him.

Faces Wang Safang, who was well-versed in the figures of Shanxi Province, couldn’t possibly not recognize.

In a panic, Sou So Namgung, who was muttering incomprehensibly, and Gayoung Jin, who was peacefully sleeping while leaning against her.

Even in the midst of all this chaos, the fact that the latter was asleep was quite revealing about how meticulously the man had protected them.

“J-Jianghu master…!”

Recognizing that for his own survival, he must obey not Foryong Sword but Masked Man, Wang Safang humbly grinned and addressed Byul Rak.

“Excuse me?”

“Ma-Master, Elder! Gentleman! Please save me! I’ll do anything!”

In response, Byul Rak’s face clearly reflected genuine confusion as he questioned.

“Why are you calling me Master?”

Taken aback by this unexpected question, Wang Safang was momentarily confused but quickly recovered, replying without hesitation.

“Because you’re so powerful… sir.”

“Does being powerful make someone Master? Despite the slaughter?”

“Th-that… Isn’t that natural? I apologize if I was out of line!”

Although Wang Safang was simply saying what he normally believed, Byul Rak had much to ponder from these words.

“When I hid my strength and cultivated good deeds, you called me a softy.”

“Uh… You, sir, you were called a softy?”

“Now you’re calling me Master simply because I’ve revealed my strength and wielded my sword.”

Although Byul Rak spoke as though addressing the world, Wang Safang mistakenly believed these words were directed at him.

THUD!

He suddenly began wondering when he’d met such a person, and before long, he dropped to his knees.

His mind was furiously racing, seeking any way to apologize for his past transgressions.

“Forgive me! I shall sincerely apologize for my past hubris and reckless actions! I will kneel until my bones crack and beg for forgiveness!”

As his forehead hit the stone floor, Wang Safang desperately sought to apologize.

By now, he was scolding himself for things he hadn’t even done.

‘What folly! How could I have ever treated an elder so carelessly? I’ve lost my mind!’

Unlike the righteous sects or the rule-bound demon sects, the dark path thrives solely on hierarchy.

Thus, to survive in the dark path, one must be adept at reading situations.

Wang Safang, the boss of the White Shadow Assassins, had always prided himself on having an unmatched nose for these things.

‘This… This is a mistake I must never make again…’

How could such a mistake have been made concerning a recluse of such stature, presumably ranked among the twelve great lords!

It was an enormous blunder that couldn’t be justified, even to himself.

“S-Senior? Might you accept my apology?”

Contrary to Wang Safang’s tangled thoughts, Byul Rak showed no interest in him whatsoever.

His sole focus was on:

“I’m glad our young lady wasn’t harmed.”

Just Gayoung Jin.

“Huh? Oh! I shall serve with utmost loyalty!”

Byul Rak did not specify whether he was referring to Namgung So or Jin Gayoung as “young lady,” and Wang Safang didn’t dare to inquire.

He was too busy hastily gathering his subordinates to retreat before Byul Rak could change his mind.

Though Foryong Sword of the Hwangshan Sword Sect, who was unable to fully grasp the situation, did rage, “We should chase them down and slay them all!” he shut his mouth promptly when Byul Rak coolly responded with, “You go ahead.”

Thus, the final day at the Hwangshan Sword Sect, amidst much bloodshed, gradually came to an end.

Meanwhile.

In Anhui.

A man and woman, both with precious blades and sabers at their waists, were making their way into the Nangung estate.

The Sword Sage had dispatched them to inform the Blood Cult of certain discoveries. After an arduous journey, the Sword Lord, Blade Lord, and Water Lord had arrived.

“Identify yourselves.”

Blocking their way was a gatekeeper of the Nangung estate.

“To think this lowly one dares to question who we are…”

To the three High Lords of the Central Plains, this was an unfamiliar form of greeting, and the Blade Lord growled low.

“And what’s wrong with asking for identification?”

The gatekeeper did not back down, replying brashly.

Strangely, he did not flinch under the Blade Lord’s imposing pressure.

“Perhaps I have been too quiet lately.”

“You may be whoever you are, but I am here on orders to guard the gates of the Nangung estate. Show us your credentials.”

This response irked the Sword Lord, who could detect something unusual.

“Cough, cough. I am none other than the Sect Leader of the Wulin Alliance and known as Heavenly Flower Sword Lord. This gentleman here is Flame Heaven Knife Holder, Pang Guangwu, and this gentleman is Water Lord, Master Sulong. As proof, I can present the emblem of our alliance leader.”

The Sword Lord revealed a token from his robes.

The gatekeeper, without the slightest hint of apology, gestured indifferently.

“You may enter.”

His demeanor was arrogantly haughty, as if viewing the three Great Lords as beneath him.

Though this irked the Blade Lord’s pride, the Sword Lord quickly nudged him when he saw the imposing aura within the estate.

– Something’s off. Stay on your toes and don’t cause trouble.

As fiery as the Blade Lord was, being a Great Lord had its merits. He outwardly acted disgruntled but inwardly agreed.

– It’s uncanny. The presence of the Sword Sage… to think the atmosphere can shift so drastically due to one individual. Indeed, a true Sword Sage.

– Well, we’ll find out when we go in.

Exchanging quiet signals, the trio stepped into the grounds of the Nangung estate.

Only upon entering did the full chill of the air hit them.

Although they had vaguely sensed something amiss outside the gates, the atmosphere inside the Nangung estate was suffocatingly cold, even for a place that was usually the brilliant sun ruling the central plains.

As they were caught off-guard by the oppressive atmosphere, a striking white-haired man with slit eyes approached them.

A man well-known to the three lords, as sleek and mysterious as a white snake.

“White Shadow King? How come you’re here….”

How could they not know the former leader of the White Shadows, the hidden sword of their alliance?

“Perhaps you might learn slowly from our estate owner. How surprised they were upon hearing of your arrival, my lords.”

At the uniquely serpentine tone of the White Shadow King, the three lords felt an unsettling chill, however brief.

Of course, none of the three were about to acknowledge the chill, shaking their heads rapidly to dismiss it.

Yet, the unsettling aftertaste lingered deep in their bodies.

“How did you know we have come to see the head of your household?”

“The estate owner foresaw it. They said the three of you would arrive soon.”

“Hmm…”

Though their arrival regarding the Blood Cult was supposed to be a closely guarded secret, had the news leaked?

Or, given the mastery of the Sword Sage’s martial prowess, was it a case of sensing their presence?

Regardless, it was a somewhat unwelcome situation for the three lords.

“I will lead you directly to our estate owner. Please follow.”

With a subtly seductive turn, the White Shadow King led them forward.

Even from behind, his bearing was impeccable—worthy of one who had once been the leader of the White Shadows—and betrayed no vulnerability.

“Now, this…”



“There is the lord inside.”

The place they arrived at, following the White Shadow Assassin King, was a location well-known to the three lords.

The office of the Lord of the Namgung Clan.

The last time he had been here was three years ago, but despite the much darker atmosphere compared to then, it was definitely the office where all significant matters of the Namgung family were decided.

“I thank you for the guidance.”

“Well then, I shall take my leave.”

“Do so.”

Led by the Sword Lord, the three lords swallowed hard and entered the office.

Upon doing so, they saw…

“…? The strategist?”

Namgung Bin.

“Gi, where is the Sword Sage?”

“Why is the strategist sitting at the head of the clan…”

Instead of the slender and wiry Namgung Cheolbin, the heavyset and plump Namgung Bin sat there.

Namgung Bin, once the military strategist of the Martial Arts Alliance during wartime, who came up with thousands of ingenious strategies to drive out the Blood Cult.

“Lord of the Alliance, it’s been a while. This is almost our first meeting since the Southern invasion by the Demon Sect.”

Namgung Bin flicked his tongue and grinned slyly.

And he remained seated without standing up.

“So… Strategist… where is the Sword Sage? Why are you sitting in that seat?”

The Sword Lord, who had come expecting Namgung Cheolbin, asked with evident confusion.

“My elder brother is temporarily away. I am currently serving as the acting head of the family.”

Namgung Bin lied coolly without changing his expression.

It was a falsehood that the Three Lords had no way of uncovering.

“…Is that so? Hmm…”

“Hmm… So what shall we do now…”

“What indeed. Should we just wait motionlessly until the Sword Sage returns…”

As the Three Lords exchanged concerned murmurs at the news of the Sword Sage’s absence, Namgung Bin handed them three chairs and spoke.

“I do not know the nature of your business, but if you have something to say to my elder brother, please state it to me. I will relay it to him.”

As the Three Lords had no clear alternative plan, the Sword Lord hesitated for a moment then nodded.

“Hmm, very well. If not anyone else, the strategist is someone we can trust.”

The Sword Lord took a seat on the chair offered by Namgung Bin.

She then began to speak solemnly, though she was soon interrupted by Namgung Bin.

“Hold on a moment. Let us calm down first. You all seem too anxious. Boys! Bring some tea over!”

At his command, servants entered with four cups and a teapot.

They handed each of the Three Lords a cup and placed one in front of Namgung Bin as well.

Then, steaming hot tea was poured into their cups, but the Three Lords hesitated, unsure whether to partake of it.

This reluctance stemmed from the famous martial saying—“Never drink tea offered by strangers, no matter how close you may be.”

“Why are you hesitating? Do you think I’ve poisoned it?”

Namgung Bin, upon seeing their hesitation, put on an innocent smile and gestured for them to relax.

“We’ll pass. After our long journey, our stomachs aren’t settling well…”

Feigning discomfort, the Sword Lord politely declined.

“Ah… How very disappointing. For you to think so low of me.”

“I apologize, but I hope you understand.”

“Haha, no matter. You are all martial artists, and I certainly understand. However, I find it hard to let this go…”

Namgung Bin then lifted the teapot, which was now nearly scalding, and poured himself a cup of tea.

Previously, when he’d poured for the Three Lords, no residue came out, but now, some powder from the bottom emerged, making his tea appear slightly darker than theirs.

After pouring himself a cup, he swiftly drank it in one gulp.

“Now, do you still not trust me?”

“Hmm… No, upon reflection, it seems we have been too impolite. To doubt your kind-hearted gesture.”

Eventually, the Three Lords glanced at Namgung Bin’s now-empty teacup, then began drinking the tea in turn.

Gulping it down, they did indeed find their minds and bodies gradually calming with the warm drink.

Satisfied, Namgung Bin observed them with a pleasant smile then broached the main topic.

“So, why have the three of you sought out my elder brother?”

The Sword Lord’s voice darkened significantly as he replied.

“There are traces of the Blood Cult.”

“Wha- What? Is that true?”

Namgung Bin feigned surprise with an exaggerated reaction.

Of course, he was genuinely surprised, though perhaps only to a third of the degree he displayed.

“We are not fully aware yet. However, charms and Jiangshi belonging to the Blood Cult have been discovered in caves in Xian and Sichuan.”

“This must be reported immediately! An investigation team must be sent at once!”

“Calm down for now. There were three male and three female Jiangshi, quite unlike the Iron Jiangshi or the Swift Jiangshi we’ve encountered before. These are entirely new variations.”

“And what of their specific characteristics?”

“They are formidable. Not only strong, but their bodies regenerate if severed. Moreover, upon a subsequent visit, all traces of the Blood Cult were burned away, leading us to suspect secret branches of the Blood Cult lurking in the shadows.”

“I see. Indeed, this situation is grave. And what do you intend to do? Shouldn’t we send an investigation team out immediately?”

As he spoke, Namgung Bin leaned forward.

To the Three Lords, it seemed like the posture of someone genuinely interested in the subject.

“It’s still unclear what the Blood Cult’s intentions are. Sending a team out might just give them an opportunity to flee. That’s why we came for the Sword Sage. He always had insight into the Blood Cult’s movements. Surely he would know something and act accordingly. Surely, it’s better to consult with him?”

Convinced by the Sword Lord’s reasoning, Namgung Bin revealed an expression that suggested mild disapproval.

Glancing at him, one might even think it was the kindhearted younger brother genuinely concerned for his elder.

“My elder brother is exhausted. Isn’t it natural, considering his achievements? Isn’t he the one who achieved the greatest feats in Martial Law against both the Blood Cult and the Demon Sect? Is it right to impose another burden on him?”

“Nevertheless, isn’t it necessary for the greater good? Sometimes, the individual must sacrifice for the benefit of the whole, isn’t that so?”

Embarrassed, the Sword Lord laughed awkwardly and said, “…aha….”

Namgung Bin then smiled more broadly and asked again.

“And where is this elder brother anyway? It wasn’t without reason that he left. It’s because he is weary, you see…”

“Is he weary? That the great Sword Sage could be weary?”

“Haven’t you all heard about his… disgraceful ailments? They’ve all come to light, haven’t they? Naturally, he must be exhausted…”

Namgung Bin spoke cautiously, his face a mask of sincere worry.

Hearing this, the Sword Lord laughed heartily, as if Namgung Bin had said something perfectly timed.

“You need not worry about that! All that was pinned on the Sword Sage was false charges! The holy monks have spoken – any evidence or not, it’s now a well-established fact!”

The Blade Lord and Water Lord also nodded with satisfied smiles.

“Really? The holy monks truly said that?”

“That’s right! My own ears heard it clearly, without doubt! By the Original Heaven Lord, I swear!”

It was a smile so pure and sincere that anyone could doubt whether a person could be so earnest.

“Is that so? What a relief…”

At this very instant,

A fleeting moment, shorter than even the snapping of fingers, a mere tenth of it.

This brief instant was, paradoxically, enough time for a crouched tiger to unsheathe its claws.

BOOM!!

“Guh-ack!!”

A thick, massive fist burst through the bottom of the desk and slammed directly into the Sword Lord’s abdomen.

Her delicate waist bent at an impossible angle.

“Such unremarkable news is no surprise to me.”

In a split second, Namgung Bin’s face reverted to a chillingly blank expression.

This was the face he wore when showing his true nature.

“What are you…!”

“Strategist! What are you doing!”

The other two lords, the Blade Lord and the Water Lord, leapt to their feet and roared in indignation.

Attempting to quickly gather their powers, they tried to release strong inner energies.

Hiss—!

“Urg…”

“Guh…”

But instead of gathering, their inner powers dispersed.

While the two were still bewildered, Namgung Bin swiftly approached them.

KA-WACK!

Taking one of their heads in each hand, he gripped them tightly.

CRUNCH!

“Aaaaaggh—!!”

“Khuuuuuuu—!!”

As a result, the two lords were left hanging helplessly, their limbs flailing uselessly in the air.

This sense of powerlessness was foreign even to those who had accomplished the title of Twelve Lords.

“Keuh… Ghrr…”

Meanwhile, the Sword Lord, who had fallen on her knees clutching her abdomen, tried in vain to muster some power while Namgung Bin held the other two lords in check.

CRUNCH…

“Indeed.”

But as soon as Namgung Bin stepped on her head and pressed it forcefully against the stone floor, just like he had with the others, she too fell limp, unable to resist.

Perhaps due to the backflow of her inner power from the depths of her dantian, white foam spewed from her mouth.

Having subdued three of the Twelve Lords within a mere flicker of time, Namgung Bin continued conversing amiably amidst the chaos.

“I sent that man plummeting into ruin, yet the world wishes to lift him up as a hero once more.”

And with his old habit, he didn’t forget to flick his tongue.

“Seems like heaven’s decree must be somewhat ignored.”

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