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Justification.

The most important thing for all warriors belonging to the righteous faction.

A sword devoid of meaning is merely a murder weapon.

It is not so different from the despised Sapa’s sword.

A sword without justification should not be drawn. Therefore, no matter how rotten a group may be, if they call themselves righteous…

Every action requires justification.

Gwangyang urgently tried to support Jong Cho-baek, who was staggering before him. But he roughly shoved him away.

“Are you not ashamed! Former Society! Not only have you interfered between Jinju Family and Jegeal Family… but you also dared to use poison in a sacred martial arts match!”

“…What nonsense are you spouting!”

“How can there be such clear evidence…! Uweeeek!”

Jong Cho-baek, who had violently coughed up blood, gasped for air. Gwangyang’s expression hardened at the sight of the blood he spilled.

His complexion was pale. This was no lie. All the blood he vomited was indeed his.

He desperately tried to clear his confused mind. Searching his pockets for a possible remedy.

But nothing appeared. He had never carried anything of that sort anyway.

Poison? Poison? There’s no way he could have used that. It was a righteous martial arts match. He had never entertained the idea of using something like poison!

Then, could it be…!

Gwangyang anxiously turned his head. The warriors of the Jegeal Family shouted almost in unison.

“A warrior of the Former Society used poison!”

“To ruin the sacred martial arts match!”

“Where has the righteous way of the martial world gone!”

A childish farce.

Yet, it was so childish…

That it became a most effective deceit.

Only now did Gwangyang realize he had walked into a trap. How could they involve the crowd in a conflict between clans and let a mere subordinate of their faction confront him, a warrior of the renowned Jegeal Family? It all made sense.

A trap.

A trap to create justification.

These guys are now…

Trying to tear apart the Former Society, not the Jinju Family.

“Drop your sword!”

“This is slander! I have never used poison!”

“Didn’t I tell you to drop your sword!”

“The Former Society is causing a ruckus!”

“Not only have you used poison, but you also tried to harm someone!”

“R-run away! Run away! You’ll be poisoned!”

The easily swayed crowd. And hidden within, instigators.

Everything proceeded as if it had been preordained. Amidst the screams, the warriors of the Jegeal Family began to close in.

“You scoundrel!”

“How dare you challenge the Great Master!”

Amidst the barrage of rebukes, there were those who drew their swords against the Jinju Family. As Gwangyang deflected them, the Jegeal Family only raised their voices louder.

“How dare you cover up your wrongdoing with murder!”

“You’ve truly lost your mind!”

The warriors of the Jinju Family hastily drew their swords. But the numbers were far too skewed.

Gwangyang gripped his sword tighter. The figure hiding behind him, Han Hye-bin, trembled.

“G-Gwang Great Master. Could this all be a trap…”

“They never intended to resolve this with martial arts in the first place. They clearly aim to pin the blame on the Former Society using me as bait.”

“H-how could… those from the Five Great Families…”

“Don’t stray from my side, Lady So.”

He slowly backed away, pressing against the wall. The Jegeal Family warriors with drawn swords were closing in.

“Is this… the righteousness of the Jegeal Family?”

“A poisoned sword has no right to speak. Wasn’t your Great Master injured deeply because of you?”

Jong Cho-baek, who had coughed blood again, averted his gaze. The member of the Jegeal Family stepping forward, the one responsible for the martial arts match, Jegeal Munhyeon, broke into a sneer.

“The Former Society tried to kill our family’s warrior while using poison, so we can’t help but hold the Former Society responsible.”

“…You bastard…!”

“You shouldn’t have meddled in matters that weren’t your concern… Did you think our target was Jinju Family? That was merely the trigger. Former Society… you stirred things up too much. Given justification, getting rid of you is no big deal.”

Jegeal Munhyeon coldly drew his sword. He flicked it.

“You vile creature who tainted a martial arts match with poison. From your dishonorable actions, we will now set our sights on the Former Society. And we’ll tear you apart so you can never again babble about silly justice.”

No way.

Outnumbered.

Gwangyang noticed those behind him. After a deep breath, he slowly lowered his sword.

“…If you have even a shred of conscience, then at least spare those following me.”

“Conscience? You think you’re in a position to speak of that? I certainly don’t think you are.”

“…….”

“I need to bind them all as hostages. I won’t kill you. After all, the life of Gwangyang, the great swordmaster, is far more valuable alive than dead. Your life will serve as a bargaining chip with the Former Society… So, put down your sword quietly. Surely you don’t want to die here, do you?”

Not kill… me?

Gwangyang sensed the subtle killing intent laced within those words. He tightened his grip on his sword.

“…Shut up.”

It’s palpable.

The deceit sleeping at the tip of his tongue.

“You mean to kill us all.”

“…My training is still lacking. That I revealed my intentions to a rookie like you.”

Jegeal Munhyeon chuckled. The sharpness of his blade slashed downwards.

“Gwangyang, the weight of that sword must feel quite heavy. But that’s only notable among the mediocre. To me, your sword feels as light as a feather.”

“…Then receive it alone, you bastard. You’re cowering behind your subordinates yet still running your mouth.”

Jegeal Munhyeon’s eyebrows raised slightly.

His voice naturally grew colder.

“Desperation brings out the real you, huh…?”

Jegeal Munhyeon spun his sword around.

He slammed it into the ground.

“I’ll entertain you for a moment.”

—KAAAAAH!!!

In an instant, Gwangyang was blasted back, and he forced down the blood that surged upward.

He moved immediately. Blocking the incoming blows as he had done before, he struggled to advance inch by inch.

But the enemy’s sword was like a snake. The momentum slipped away, and every clash reverberated through every bone in his body.

His legs, which should have remained steady, began to shake. He forced himself to refocus his blurry vision and tried to move forward.

“Do you think you can succeed?”

—Kwaddeul!

In that moment, a harsh sound came from the wounds on his body.

Blood welled up. Gwangyang hastily pulled back, confirming the shallow cut on his upper body.

He thought he had successfully dodged in time, but the enemy’s sword had come in even deeper. There was far more that was unseen compared to what was visible.

That cunning blade was as bad as a treacherous tongue. It simply did not match up with him.

…From the start.

He couldn’t even see the proper sword form.

“…Huh.”

Yet…

He still had to try.

Taking a breath, Gwangyang tore at his tattered clothing, tightly binding his sword to his hand.

Fortunately, now that it was one-on-one, openings began to appear. The crowd’s encirclement had loosened just a bit.

That place.

If he could break through there, he could at least help the people of Jinju Family escape.

“Gwang Great Master…!”

He shook his head. He refused to respond to the call.

Instead, he amassed his breath for an opportunity.

Hadn’t his master said?

To wield a sword that wouldn’t bring shame upon oneself.

This is my answer. This is it.

These bastards want to stir up trouble…

Someone has to live to tell the Former Society.

Fortunately, I think I can wield my sword to a certain degree and slow down…

“…Ha ha.”

Master.

It seems your foolish disciple may have to join you a bit earlier.

But, mind you.

I will not go with shame. Never.

“Hey, you scoundrel.”

“…Have you truly lost your mind?”

“I told you you’re a scumbag. Did I say anything wrong? You’re more disgusting than a snake. What’s the matter? Even when given a chance, you can’t strike properly?”

He thumped his wounded upper body.

He showed it off proudly.

“I’ll give you one more chance. Cut properly. If you can’t even do that… well… then you’re truly hopeless.”

“You’re hastening your death.”

The opponent swung his sword. Gwangyang unleashed all the air he had held back at the end of the invisible movement.

His sword, swung with all his might, dug into the ground as he faced the incoming attack. Dust erupted around him, obscuring everything along with the twisted face of the opponent.

But as a result, his upper body was cut deeper this time. With unbearable blood surging forth, his vision darkened as a blade sunk deep into his shoulder.

Yet he still shouted.

Grasping the sword embedded in his shoulder.

“Go!”

“……!”

Han Hye-bin shouted something. But he could hardly hear it.

While he wanted to hear, what could he do? He had already imagined a connection with that pretty lady, and his satisfaction would have to end there.

In an instant, only the mixed forms of allies and enemies were visible. Some of them were slipping away through the dust.

He had to hold onto this sword until they fully escaped.

Don’t let go of the sword.

What he deemed right must be carried out to the end.

Damn it.

I’m going to see my master… I can’t go with shame…!

“This… this bastard! Let go!”

He strained every muscle in his body. Thankfully, his muscles were doing their part. Indeed, the amassed strength of his training wouldn’t betray him.

Everything followed his master’s words. So, he would hold onto the sword until the very end. Preventing the struggling opponent from escaping from him.

Just to buy a little more time.

“This madman! Even if you do this, you’ll die!”

“All that I… have learned… is this…”

Ah.

Still.

It was all pretty good at the last moments. Isn’t that right, Master?

“I’ve learned it properly!”

“…I never taught you to do that.”

“…….?”

Is this an illusion?

A voice that shouldn’t be heard resonated clearly through his ears.

Gwangyang shivered and turned his head, peering through the dust. He saw a shadow slowly approaching through the thick haze.

A familiar shape. A familiar stride.

In a red-stained conical hat…

Amidst the black bloodstorm.

“…Am I… already… dead…?”

“I thought you could fight back a little, but to endure the pain like that… I wonder who you take after.”

“I resemble Jeok-un.”

Beside him stood another familiar small figure. Also mixed in was a large shadow he had seen a few times.

Three.

Three he thought he’d never see again.

“What are you doing here!”

Without answering, he locked eyes with the man standing before him.

A scarred face. Serious eyes.

In the heavy atmosphere, a small smile seemed to show concern for him.

“You were more than capable of winning, Gwangyang.”

The man who had stopped spoke softly.

“You shouldn’t think of losing.”

“…M-master…”

Is it a dream or an illusion?

Is it false or real?

But even so, Gwangyang ultimately smiled.

“You shouldn’t say that…!”

For illusions are truly…

So similar to his master.

 

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