Chapter 50

“I am a legend-!!”… I shouted boldly, but honestly, my condition isn’t great.


Breath is already ragged, legs are trembling. Using Fudo Myo-o and the Dog Chasing Stick Technique back-to-back has drained most of my internal energy.


Physically, I’m reaching my limit.


But that’s why I bluff. I don’t show weakness.


I shout loudly, showing strength, sending a message to the enemies: “Only those who want their heads smashed, first come, first served!”


I straighten my back and steady my breathing. I lift my staff again.


…I play mind games.


As the staff rises, the swordsmen’s eyes twitch. Their bodies shrink.


Even though there’s only one opponent, no one dares to move recklessly.


They look like scared puppies dragged before a dog seller.


Though numerous, the swordsmen are less ferocious than the half-dragon Mantian faced, and less tenacious than the assassins of the Heavenly Demon God Sect.


Fearing the relentless staff technique, they unconsciously take a step back.


…This confirms it. As tired and weakened as I am, they too have weakened.


Though some are still unharmed, seeing their comrades beaten has shaken their spirits.


Both body and mind now see me as a dangerous beast.


If I just buy time, the guards will arrive. After such a spectacle, if they don’t show up, it’s pure negligence. They’d have to cough up their taxes.


‘If they don’t realize I’m weakened, victory is mine!!’—Mantian thought in that moment.


Unfortunately, one who hadn’t been hit much still had rational thought.


“Uh… your right leg is shaking badly. Aren’t you tired?”


Glancing down, my right leg was indeed shaking like crazy, betraying my tough talk.


I don’t know why this leg acts up at crucial moments.


But luckily, among those remaining, while some were less hit, others were too beaten to think straight.


“I heard… when a master’s leg shakes like that, they’re really angry. Maybe preparing something bigger.”


‘…My leg’s been shaking since birth.’


Regardless, strange tension flows among them. They exchange glances, whispering.


The mood oscillates between ‘Huh? Is he really tired? Should we go in?’ and ‘Isn’t it dangerous? Could we die?’


…But this balance didn’t last. The divided opinions slowly leaned towards the former.


Even if they’re just a ragtag bunch, they’re swordsmen of the slaughterhouse. If they flee from just one person, they can’t make a living as swordsmen.


They grip their weapons tighter, closing the gap.


The swordsmen, waiting to see my condition before rushing in, and Mantian, aiming to crush the first one’s head to break their morale.


The tension reignites. The killing intent swirls between Mantian and the swordsmen once more.


…And in that moment, the space froze.


Like a white heron descending from the sky, Sososo, in pure white mourning clothes, gracefully flew down from the second-floor railing to the first.


Technically, she jumped, but it felt like she flew, landing so softly and safely.


Her small frame seemed even more fragile due to her flushed face and staggering body. Yet, no one dared touch the little sword dancer before them.


Slowly, a cold blade emerged from its sheath, dominating the space.


Imperial Sword Form


Like a subject before a king, like a fish caught in a net, no one could move. All senses were fixed on the blade, drawn into it.


At the overwhelming presence of the emperor, even the wild dogs and beasts fell silent.


Mantian, feeling the Imperial Sword Form’s power for the first time, was purely amazed, while the swordsmen, overwhelmed by Sososo’s internal energy far surpassing their own, couldn’t regain their senses.


A moment that felt like an hour passed, and the basic forms were released. The Imperial Sword Form, consuming vast internal energy, couldn’t be maintained long by Sososo, cursed and unable to control her body. Yet, she still stepped forward.


For Mantian, whom she barely knew, Sososo also bluffed, risking her life.


She steadied her breathing, took a stance, and pointed her sword.


“Only those who wish to die, come forward. I, Namgung Sososo, the Sword Dragon, will face you.”


Small in stature and name, yet none of the swordsmen took her threat lightly.


Even though the Imperial Sword Form had ended, the small queen’s aura overwhelmed them, leaving them unable to move.


As the swordsmen stood frozen, a horn sounded.


…It was the retreat signal of the slaughterhouse.


Though unsure why it sounded now, the swordsmen, with a reason to flee, quickly gathered their comrades and left.


Precisely, they fled from Sososo’s sword.


No clichéd ‘We’ll meet again!’—just stunned by Sososo’s overwhelming martial prowess, they swallowed their words and swiftly exited the inn.


With a single sword strike, she subdued their hearts and drove the enemy away. Truly, a martial art befitting the title of Imperial Sword.


Though brief, Mantian, having felt the true Imperial Sword Form of the Namgung Family, narrowed his eyes and glanced at his staff.


His trusted martial art, his soul partner, Tagujang, now felt incredibly shabby.


‘I should’ve learned the Imperial Sword Form back when I clung to my master’s coattails as a kid. Regret is sprouting wildly.’


He cautiously glanced at Sososo.


‘…If I offer the Dog Chasing Stick Technique and the Empty Clarity Fist, would she trade for the Imperial Sword Form?’


As he pondered how to exchange for the Imperial Sword Form, Sososo sheathed her sword and staggered over.


“…I have ointment in my room. Let’s tend to your wounds.”


Her face looked like she might collapse any moment, yet she worried for him.


Honestly, staying here was dangerous, but going outside risked an ambush, so I quietly received first aid in Sososo’s room.


I’d heard that the ointments used by prestigious families or major sects were specially made, feeling different, but using it, it wasn’t much different from what we used at home.


***


The one-eyed assassin of the slaughterhouse, Jangdal, blew the horn to retreat the swordsmen and hid himself to avoid the iron storm.


Namgung Sososo, involved in the Namgung Family’s factional strife, was a target with little backlash if killed, but the second son of the Sima Family wasn’t.


Touching him risked one’s life. The cost-benefit didn’t add up.


His head hurt. He couldn’t figure out where things went wrong.


Initially, Mantian should’ve drunk the poisoned tea. Why could he move unlike the others?


If all were fine, it’d be a scam, but all other late-stage masters were incapacitated.


…At least it wasn’t a scam.


Having confirmed the curse worked on Namgung Sososo, he’d wait for the next opportunity.


Hire the curse merchant again to curse Namgung Sososo into immobility, then kill her this time.


As Jangdal quickly devised a new assassination plan using curses, a chilling voice came from behind.


“Sorry to disturb you in your busy time. I must leave the village immediately and came to bid farewell.”


The voice, reminiscent of a fox’s cry, belonged to the curse merchant, Hyeonho.


Jangdal immediately distanced himself and turned to see Hyeonho, a man with fox-like slit eyes, smiling and speaking amiably.


“I was going to just run away, but since we worked together briefly, I came to give you some advice.”


“…Advice?”


Confused, Jangdal furrowed his one eye, and Hyeonho nodded, explaining kindly.


“I’m not sure of the exact situation, but among those who drank the poisoned tea, one wasn’t cursed.”


“Yeah, I was about to talk about that.”


Trying to take control of the conversation, Jangdal suppressed his unease and pressed Hyeonho.


“Your curse was sloppy, and one wasn’t affected. How will you take responsibility?”


“Yes, yes, I was about to talk about that. Please hear me out.”


Hyeonho took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat pouring down his face, which for some reason looked flushed.


“If someone isn’t affected by my curse, it usually falls into three categories.”


“First, it doesn’t work on high-level Taoists or monks. It’s a compatibility issue. Second, it doesn’t work on those with special energy in their bodies.”


“Special energy?”


“For example… there’s the Immovable Heart Method of esoteric Buddhism. Mastering it burns away any invading evil energy, making curses ineffective.”


“And the third is if they’re already cursed. Think of it as using poison to fight poison.”


Using poison to fight poison.


Jangdal roughly understood Hyeonho’s meaning. If a strong curse was already in place, weaker curses couldn’t penetrate.


“…You messed up the job because someone else’s curse couldn’t be broken. How much do you think we paid you?”


As Jangdal pressed, Hyeonho burst into laughter, or rather, coughed up blood.


“Cough- cough- hack- ha! Sorry about this~ during our talk.”


Hyeonho wiped the blood and sweat pouring down his face with the handkerchief.


“Curses are like arrows that must hit someone. Anyway, it might sound arrogant, but currently, no one in the Central Plains handles curses better than me.”


“…What do you mean?”


“This is what I mean.”


Hyeonho’s right arm slowly rose, his index finger pointing at the dark night sky obscured by clouds.


“It means there was someone bearing not a human curse, but a heavenly curse, one punished by the heavens.”