The 夺魂剑 (탈혼검), or Soul-Severing Sword, was not a weapon to be wielded lightly. Even his master had warned him—never to use it unless absolutely necessary.

At its pinnacle, the mere clash of this blade could shatter an opponent from the inside, leaving only a hollow shell behind, pulverizing their very soul into dust. That was the true nature of the Soul-Severing Sword.

Even at lesser levels, it was devastating. Gukjinmyeong understood this danger intimately. A touch of internal energy imbued in the blade was enough to incapacitate most combatants. When he had sparred with an equal in rank, his opponent had lasted no more than three moves before their sword fell from trembling hands, their body racked with unbearable pain that left them bedridden for days.

This was the Soul-Severing Sword—a weapon that could not be endured by anyone short of a grandmaster.

And yet...

What is this woman in front of him?

CLANG!!!

The clash of swords reverberated through the air. For the first time, it wasn’t Gukjinmyeong pressing forward—it was he who was forced back.

A faint but unmistakable aura of blood-red sword energy emanated from her blade, surging toward him like a tide.

He retaliated, scattering the severing force of his Soul-Severing Sword.

Sword met sword, and the echoing cry of their clash was almost agonizing to hear, like the howl of a beast in pain.

His blade shone once more, a terrifying light at its edge, yet...

Why won’t she fall?

“Urgh!!!”

He was pushed back, again and again.

Striking and being struck in return.

Watching as his opponent’s body fell apart in real time.

Her bones cracked, her muscles tore. Blood spilled, painting her white hair crimson.

And still, she did not stop.

She was losing. That much was obvious. But it didn’t feel like he was winning.

“What the hell is this...?!”

It was like facing a beast—no, something far worse. Her every move felt like she was clawing into him, trying to tear out a victory with sheer will.

Gukjinmyeong trembled. He couldn’t understand.

What was this woman fighting for?

What kind of resolve could drive someone to such extremes?

Swordsmanship, to him, had always been power—simple, unyielding. But looking at her now, he felt doubt creep into his conviction.

This wasn’t about power.

This was something far beyond strength.

He couldn’t afford to think.

She was fighting with everything she had.

Her blade was aimed to kill him.

No... it wasn’t as simple as fighting at full strength.

This wasn’t a duel.

This was survival.

“Damn it all!”

Each moment, each second, felt like his life was on the line. This wasn’t an exchange of techniques.

This was a fight to the death.

The Soul-Severing Sword gleamed again, its deadly gray aura surging forth.

Gukjinmyeong gritted his teeth. The energy danced along his blade, crackling with ominous intent.

His perspective shifted.

This wasn’t a woman standing before him anymore.

This was no human opponent.

This was a beast.

A feral, bloodied beast that refused to fall, no matter how broken its body became.

And if he wanted to survive, he had to slay it.

***

The battle raged, colors blending and fading in the chaos of the clash. First, the red, then the blue, stripped away piece by piece.

Each strike seemed to take something from her, tearing apart her already battered body. And yet, 29th Guard refused to stop. If anything, her grip on the blade tightened.

"Just a little further..."

"A moment longer... faster, harder!"

The echoing clang of their swords rang out once again, the sheer force of it ripping through the air.

She pressed on, relentless, cutting through the dull gray aura of the Soul-Severing Sword, unwilling to leave anything undone.

The blood-red mist around her surged violently, an unmistakable manifestation of her will.

九天血魔功 (Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art)

Second Form
丹魂趨 (Dan Hun Chu) – 沛墓 (Pae-Myo)

Her blade wove through the chaos with precision. Inches from her face, her opponent’s blade skimmed past, but she turned, calculated, and struck. Her target's face twisted in shock, the momentary falter all she needed to surge forward again.

九天血魔功 (Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art)

Second Form
丹魂趨 (Dan Hun Chu) – 痲擦 (Ma-Chal)

Her internal energy flared in her weapon. Not to destroy, but to sustain. A desperate move to hold together her fraying body and her faltering resolve, even as the world seemed to collapse around her.

The clash of steel sent shockwaves that shattered the air itself, but she held her ground.

Her bloodied figure stepped forward.

"What... is this beast?!"

Her opponent, Gukjinmyeong, grit his teeth, knocking her sword aside with a savage swing.

A deft kick sent her sprawling back, but even as she skidded across the dirt, she rose again, readying herself.

九天血魔功 (Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art)

Second Form
丹魂趨 (Dan Hun Chu) – 久握 (Gu-Ak)

A thunderous step propelled her forward, her blade aiming true.

"Impossible?!"

His face contorted as her strike hit home, driving him back.

The 29th Guard’s voice tore from her throat in a roar, her broken, bloodied frame somehow still moving. Her world had long since been drained of color, reduced to stark black and white, but she fought on, the pain and exhaustion drowned beneath sheer will.

She was breaking.

Her body shuddered, barely able to stand. Every breath was a struggle, every movement a gamble.

But she moved.

Why?

Why does she keep moving?

「White Plum Blossom.」

A voice from the past. A gentle hand.

Her sister's warmth, her quiet, steadfast kindness.

She had run before.

This time, she refused.

For her sister. For her pride. For herself.

「One day... I'll catch up to you. Just you wait.」

No more words. No more excuses.

Her body trembled, but her spirit burned brighter than ever. Her blood, her pain, her tears—they fueled her blade.

And she charged.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"

In the final clash, their blades screamed against one another, a tempest of steel and spirit.

Her cry tore through the silence of the night, shaking even her opponent.

Gukjinmyeong faltered, his composure breaking for a split second as her relentless assault finally breached his defense.

In that instant, she reached out.

Her blade struck true.

九天血魔功 (Nine Heavens Blood Demon Art)
Second Form – 丹魂趨 (Dan Hun Chu): Final Motion.

The aftermath was silence, save for her ragged breaths. Her weapon clattered from her grip, her body collapsing to the ground, unmoving.

Her opponent staggered, a crimson streak blossoming across his chest.

He steadied himself, gazing down at the fallen woman.

"Your name... what is it?"

She tried to speak, but no sound came, her lips moving in silence.

He laughed, soft and bitter.

"A shame. I would have liked to know it."

Blood gushed from the wound she'd carved into him, spilling onto the earth.

***

The hall reverberated with the tension of drawn swords, each breath heavy with anticipation.

"Master?! Why at this hour...?"

"Courier Master! This is an emergency! Take my words, write them down, and dispatch them immediately in all directions!"

"Excuse me? What do you mean by—"

"This is an order! Obey me now!"

The Courier Master bowed without hesitation, turning to command their subordinates. Carrier pigeons took flight into the night sky, their fluttering wings bearing urgent messages across the land.

Amid the chaos, Samaak barked additional orders, mobilizing his people.

"Gather every fighter in the main house at once—"

A scream pierced the air.

Samaak whirled around, only to see a lifeless body flung to the ground.

Standing over the corpse was someone all too familiar.

The Courier Master and their guards drew their swords, their faces pale with shock. Samaak’s teeth ground audibly.

"Chueuigyeong...!"

The man stepped into the light, his scarred face betraying no emotion, save for a fleeting glint of derision.

"Master. Why haven’t you been captured yet?"

"You filthy traitor! I’ll rip out your heart and drink it!"

Chueuigyeong sighed, hefting his sword as if the weight of his betrayal was nothing more than an inconvenience.

"Samaak, the downfall of the Sama Clan was decided long ago. From the moment the former patriarch left his post, this family was doomed."

"That’s not for you to decide, scum!"

"I’ve served you, yes. But never once did I devote my blade to you. Do you know why?"

Chueuigyeong grinned wickedly, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision as he severed the head of the fallen guard.

He tossed the severed head at Samaak’s feet.

"Because you’re no leader. The Sword of Sama... You can’t even wield our clan’s techniques properly. How could I ever acknowledge you as master?"

Samaak’s roar of fury was deafening.

"You wretched bastard!"

Chueuigyeong’s voice carried a chilling certainty.

"I’ve struck a deal with the Heavenly Demon Sect. When the Sama Clan falls under their control, they’ll make me its steward. And make no mistake—every member of the courier station here tonight will die. It’s only a slight acceleration of my plans."

His sword glowed faintly, a shimmering aura betraying his mastery of the Sama Clan’s techniques.

"You see, Samaak, the Sama Clan crumbled the moment you assumed its leadership. A fox can’t rule in a tiger’s absence. Tonight, you’ll die, taking all the clan’s sins with you. History will remember you as the worst head this family has ever had."

The Courier Master stepped back, fear evident in his voice.

"Master Samaak?! What is the meaning of this?!"

"What do you think?! It’s a mutiny!"

Chueuigyeong smirked.

"There’s no escape tonight, Samaak. You’ll pay for your failures. You’re already surrounded, and none of your men stand a chance against me."

The Courier Master grimaced, gripping his sword tightly.

"Master, we can’t defeat him. Chueuigyeong is one of the strongest warriors of our clan. His skills are at their absolute peak—this is a losing battle!"

Samaak snapped, his voice a mix of rage and desperation.

"Don’t repeat what I already know!"

The weight of the situation bore down on him.

Every option seemed to close off.

But he couldn’t stop thinking of one thing.

"Thirty..."

He saw the face of the man who had stayed behind to protect him, throwing his life into the jaws of death without hesitation.

Foolish, reckless man.

But Samaak couldn’t let him die in vain.

"Everyone, draw your blades!"

Samaak’s roar echoed through the chamber as his own sword gleamed with an unsteady brilliance.

"I will not die here! The Sama Clan will not fall to the Heavenly Demon Sect!"

Samaak straightened his posture, gripping his sword with renewed resolve.

"Someone is buying us time! A damn fool, a mere bodyguard, has put his life on the line for us! We can’t waste that sacrifice. If we delay for even a moment longer, the Soul-Severing Sword will claim him!"

The Courier Master hesitated, stunned by Samaak’s conviction.

"But, Master, this is madness!"

"The Sama Clan repays its debts, Master Courier! Chueuigyeong, your betrayal will be answered in blood!"

Chueuigyeong sneered, raising his sword.

"You? You think you can?"

Samaak aimed his blade, the incomplete Sword of Sama trembling but luminous.

"Let’s find out."

Chueuigyeong laughed mockingly.

"You should’ve given up when you had the chance."

"Enough of your arrogance, you vermin!"

With a fierce snarl, Samaak lunged.

Behind him, the guards of the courier station unsheathed their weapons, rallying to their leader’s desperate call.

Chueuigyeong’s expression darkened.

"Then die, carrying your broken dreams to the grave. I will be the master of the Sama Clan."