When had it started, I wonder—this killing intent seeping into my sword?

Was it when I turned the tables and killed the Lord of the Red Evil Sect, my parents’ enemy, who had used me to the end and then tried to kill me?

Was it when I became a mercenary swordsman just to survive and cut down warriors I held no grudge against?

Or perhaps it was the very moment I first picked up a sword—when I felt its heavy weight and sharp edge and realized that a sword was nothing more than a tool to kill people.

My killing intent deepened when I lost Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin, but even before that, I had always harbored murderous intent deep in my chest.

That mindset continued to influence me for years.

A sword is a tool, and martial arts are merely techniques for killing. Thus, true mastery of martial arts is measured by how effectively one can kill.

That single sentence may be the most concise way to define who I am as a martial artist. My martial arts were always refined for greater efficiency.

By the time I created the Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art, even the killing intent that led to qi deviation had been incorporated into my internal energy.

Fierce killing intent gave me strength, and thanks to that strength, I reached the realm I stand in now.

But now—as I searched the well of my heart, trying to summon deeper killing intent to defeat the Poison Demon,

all I found was scorched ash and dry air.

At that moment, I had no choice but to admit it—my killing intent is not infinite. I am not Heaven-Slaughter Star. I am but an ordinary person.

Even when I swung my sword with the sole will to cut, it no longer reached the Poison Demon.

My mind, dulled by qi deviation, blunted my will. So, even the frailest intent scattered in vain—it was inevitable.

And yet, I continued to swing my sword. Because I could not give up.

Past and present jumbled together in the chaos of qi deviation. As I pushed through that storm and scoured my heart for something more to burn, I realized—

“Ah.”

The reason I had taken up the sword was never to kill.

I hated the world. The strong exploiting the weak, mocking them, even taking their lives—and the endless cycle that forced the next generation to obey the same cruel fate.

I hated it all.

So, I killed.

I wanted revenge.

When I lost those who had first shown me what human warmth was, I fell into a rage so deep it led to qi deviation.

So, I killed.

I despaired of life. Born with nothing, never able to grasp anything—and when the one who told me it was okay, that we could live together anyway, had her heart pierced right before my eyes…

I raised my sword against the Heavenly Demon, knowing I would lose.

To kill him?

Was that really why?

Had my sword always been swung solely to kill?

I would have said yes once. But now, having poured out every last drop of killing intent and reached the bottom, I know better.

When I destroyed the Red Evil Sect, I wasn’t truly avenging my parents.

I was just bitter that my young, helpless self hadn’t been able to protect them.

When I went mad with rage at the deaths of Seol Lihyang and Seo Mun-Hwarin, I didn’t seek to kill the enemies already long dead.

I was furious with myself—furious that I had been too late and could only watch them die helplessly.

Even that final moment—when I ignored Tang Sowol’s last wish for me to survive and rushed the Heavenly Demon—I hadn’t given up on life or been consumed by revenge.

I was just overcome with grief.

Grief so overwhelming that I couldn’t endure it any other way.

I had no insight, no wisdom. It took me far too long to understand. Even if killing intent boiled up and stained my sword, I never raised it just to kill someone.

“I see now.”

I swing my sword to save Tang Sowol. So how could I possibly say I was wielding it properly while chasing killing intent?

That’s no better than swinging blindly with my eyes closed.

Then it’s time—time to open my eyes.

I erase the killing intent.

And in its place, I fill it with something more honest.

I simply—

“Just wanted to protect her.”

Zzzk.

As I speak those words, the crimson sword aura begins to crack and crumble.

The burning scent that had clung to the tip of my nose is already gone.

***

“What…?”

The intense killing intent that had been focused on a single person disappears without warning. Startled, the Poison Demon backs away and scatters his poisonous qi.

This was a deadly poison created by combining decades of research into the Tang Family’s secret arts with the Five Venoms Division’s legacy.

So potent that even a Flowering Stage master could be poisoned by it.

Now, infused with Tang Sowol’s own poisonous qi, it was even deadlier.

Just brushing against it could harm the skin, no matter how fiercely I tried to dispel it with qi deviation.

So I must cut it down before it touches me.

With a sound like something breaking apart, the crimson sword qi just barely scatters the Poison Demon’s attack.

But something is different now.

Zzzk…

The cracks that had started forming in the sword aura earlier deepen significantly.

Seeing this, the light of wariness fades slightly from the Poison Demon’s eyes.

“As expected. You’ve lasted this long, but your limit is near.”

Instead of responding, I focus. And I calm the raging currents of qi deviation—because I no longer need them.

The internal energy of the Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art, once wild and untamed, now gradually falls under control.

The killing intent that used to be embedded in it has vanished without a trace.

Without killing intent, the Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art is an ordinary martial art. Its energy is murky, devoid of any mystical quality. At best, it’s just first-class level.

But what matters isn’t how great the technique is. It’s what you wield it for.

Zzzeook.

The cracks in the sword aura deepen even more—to the point where it looks like it could shatter any moment.

The Poison Demon smirks, one corner of his mouth curling up, as he gathers violet poison in both hands.

As if to finish me off with this one strike.

“To be honest, I was surprised. Your level is unbelievable for someone your age. Your swordplay surpasses even those who’ve trained for decades. And you even threw yourself into qi deviation just to resist poisoning… such resolve.”

Tang Sowol’s green poisonous qi mixes with his already vivid purple aura. Not merely swirling on the surface now—the green qi has fully merged into the violet, perhaps because he’s grown accustomed to it.

Maybe it’s the effect of the Purple Flower Poison Enhancing Grass she absorbed.

The poison swirling atop the Poison Demon’s hands now burns almost twice as fiercely. So virulent that even his own hands begin to melt.

“I’ll admit it. Blood Flame Sword Demon, you truly deserve that title—you’re a swordsman worthy of the name.”

Even as blood welled from his decaying flesh, the Poison Demon’s smile only deepened.

At last, the poison, now saturated with blood venom, stopped consuming its master.

“But what did that sword ever change? What have you left behind in this world? I am different! Look! My poison will become the greatest in history, and I will become the supreme poison master, carving my name into Murim forever!”

His voice was filled with ecstatic madness.

In contrast, the voice that left my mouth was weak and hoarse.

“So just because there’s nothing you can’t do, does that mean there’s nothing you want to do?”

Before regression, the Black Lotus Sect Master told me—if a man holds just a single sword in his heart, he is already a Sword Demon.

But now, things are different. I know what I truly hold in my heart.

“And don’t speak of being ‘the greatest of all time’ so lightly.”

The one I must one day cut down…The Heavenly Demon was not someone this insignificant.

“You arrogant brat! Be honored to be the first to fall before the greatest poison in history! Die!!”

The air around the Poison Demon distorts as his poison energy converges, warping the very space, as if corroding the world itself.

And so, I do what I must. The thing I know best.

I raise my head and grip my sword firmly.

“I’ll cut you down.”

Not just the Poison Demon before me—but everything threatening Tang Sowol.

So I can protect her this time.

I swing my sword toward the approaching poison strike.

No special technique—just a simple, horizontal slash.

Kkwaang!

A thunderous explosion erupts as my sword clashes with the Poison Demon’s twin palms. The cracked crimson sword qi finally shatters completely—But that doesn’t mean my blade was pushed back.

Through the scattering red energy—a pale light begins to rise, like snow falling from the winter sky,like a full moon suspended in a dark night.

Pale white, yet clearly shaped like a sword.

In Murim, this is called—

Sword Force.

“…!”

The Poison Demon recoils in horror, desperately pulling his hands back—but it’s too late.

Will refined into resolve. Resolve sublimated into absolution.

What follows is a sword strike so absolute, only one of equal standing could possibly face it.

Ssskuk!

The Poison Demon’s hands—everything above the wrists—are severed. No, even that wasn’t enough. The wall behind him is sliced at an angle and collapses.

Kuuung!

The debris crashes to the ground with a deafening sound.

The gray sky finally releases its rain. Soaked in the downpour, the Poison Demon wore a blank expression.

He instinctively tilted his head to avoid a fatal blow, but even he knew—it was pure luck he survived that moment.

With a newly formed Sword Force, just barely large enough to cover the blade, I adjusted my stance again.

The Poison Demon, now missing all fingers but his thumbs,

stood bleeding, unable even to try stopping it, and screamed in rage.

“H-How!? How can this be?! The Grand Work was right before my eyes! I’ve waited for this day since before you were even born! If it weren’t for you…!”

“Who knows. Even without me, the outcome wouldn’t have changed.”

This time, the Poison Demon dies by my hand—but in my past life, it was Tang Sowol who brought him down.

“I won’t… I can’t end it here!!”

Screaming with fury, the Poison Demon unleashed a massive flood of poisonous qi. Its concentration hadn’t increased, only its volume. He had released all the poison he had left in one final attack.

But—

“Pointless.”

A light upward swing of my sword. A powerful gust followed, scattering the bulk of the poison into the sky.

Beyond the cleared vision, I saw the Poison Demon fleeing through the ruined wall.

“You think I’ll let you escape?”

A straight thrust. The tip of the sword aimed directly at the Poison Demon’s heart.

Puuhk!

“Gugh… Kuhugh!”

The dying sound of the Poison Demon as my sword pierced his heart from behind.

Even now, his toxic blood tried to corrode the Sword Force that had shattered his heart—but unlike sword qi, this force held firm. The blood boiled away into foul-smelling steam.

With only his thumb remaining, the Poison Demon tried in vain to push the sword from his chest.

I watched his futile struggle—then thrust upward.

Srrk.

His torso was sliced clean in half. I watched him fall and collapse, then finally turned away.

All that remained was to take Tang Sowol and leave this place.

But—

My vision blurred.

The elation that had filled my body just moments before vanished, leaving behind only accumulated exhaustion.

My meridians were shredded from qi deviation. The Poison Demon’s poison had inflicted real damage. Using Sword Force, something I wasn’t used to, had long drained my willpower.

Even so, I squeezed out the last of my strength and stepped forward.

One step. Two steps.

But I couldn’t take a third.

Thud.

My body collapsed onto the wet ground. I tried to use my sword as a cane to stand, but I couldn’t rise again—only keep myself from collapsing completely.

One more step.

Just one more, and I could reach Tang Sowol.

But before I could take that last step, my eyes closed.

Swaaah—

The sound of pouring rain filled my ears.

***

Under the cold raindrops, Tang Sowol’s eyes opened.

Because that one remaining step—was hers to take.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep