Chapter 319 |
319. Fallen Blossoms (3)
The heat pouring out from the burning hall scorched his skin. Yet Cheon Hwi hurled himself deeper inside without hesitation.
Watching his back as if he were stepping into the gates of hell of his own accord, the three women swallowed their breath.
“Looks like this time it continues beyond the last part we saw before.”
“Since we still haven’t seen what happened to the Ironblood Hall Master.”
Tang Sowol sensed that the end was drawing near and nodded heavily.
Seol Lihyang also nodded, her expression heavy.
But Seo Mun-Hwarin was different. As though bewitched by something, she stared blankly at the flames and at Cheon Hwi.
Worried by her unusual appearance, Seol Lihyang approached and gently held her sleeve.
“Mm. This One is fine. It is only…”
“Only??”
“Only, for some reason… something I miss, yet do not wish to remember… yes, it makes This One recall her childhood.”
“Ah!”
The annihilation of the Seo Mun clan.
Seo Mun-Hwarin was overlaying that scene onto the downfall of the Ironblood Hall.
Silently, Seol Lihyang moved her hand from the sleeve to softly hold Seo Mun-Hwarin’s hand.
Tang Sowol also took her other hand, adding her own warmth.
Only then did the pale color of Seo Mun-Hwarin’s face return to normal.
“Thank you, all of you. But like this, isn’t it uncomfortable to move? We must follow Hwi quickly, so release me.”
Though they obediently let go, they still stayed close and refused to move away.
Seo Mun-Hwarin gave a wry smile and nodded.
“This One said she is fine now. More than that, Hwi is what worries me.”
At her words, Tang Sowol and Seol Lihyang turned their focus forward again.
There, beyond the main gate, Cheon Hwi had reached the only maintained living space within the broad Ironblood Hall.
The few attendants lay dead, collapsed in the direction facing Cheon Hwi as if they’d died while fleeing.
The other Ironblood Hall warriors lay entangled with intruders in black martial attire, having died in battle.
They had not been particularly close, yet he knew enough to greet them in passing and remember their names.
None had survived.
Cheon Hwi clenched his teeth without a word.
Even though Cheon Hwi of that time rarely changed expression, a blank face also had many kinds.
A hollow grief.
But also a rage and impatience that swallowed everything else.
The qi waves felt from afar remained violent—meaning the Ironblood Hall Master was still fighting the invaders.
Though his martial arts were limited, Cheon Hwi’s qi sense was excellent; there was no way he would fail to notice.
“I’m not completely late yet.”
Sreung—
Drawing his sword, Cheon Hwi’s eyes hardened with resolve.
Unable to contain the murderous intent radiating from him, he stepped deeper inside, his footwork sharp.
By now, the remaining intruders—warriors of the Black Heaven Sword Sect—couldn’t help noticing him.
Those who were searching the burning hall for survivors of the Ironblood Hall flinched in shock at the sudden murderous aura approaching from behind and turned around.
“An enemy! Someone’s still alive!”
“Kill him! He’s the subordinate of our enemy!”
“Don’t let anyone hinder the Sect Master!”
Brandishing their weapons, the Black Heaven Sword Sect warriors charged at Cheon Hwi.
Their numbers were not small, but individually their martial prowess was not high.
There wasn’t even anyone capable of leading such numbers.
It looked as though all their true experts had been relocated elsewhere.
Of course, their martial power was lacking, but not their malice.
Some had once lost family or peers to the Ironblood Hall Master.
They rushed at Cheon Hwi, trying to unleash their personal grudges upon him. And then—
Seogeok—
Their necks were severed in the order they came, or their hearts pierced before collapsing to the ground.
Having trained under the Ironblood Hall Master, Cheon Hwi’s martial arts had already reached a considerable level.
Among Peak Stage warriors, only a few could truly match him in swordsmanship.
How, then, could these inferior enemies cut down Cheon Hwi simply because they had numbers?
Facing overwhelming skill, they fell without managing to even brush the hem of his clothes.
Some screamed and charged wildly, some fled in terror, others begged for their lives after attacking too hastily.
But Cheon Hwi merely widened his eyes as if to remember everything, cutting them all down.
Thus, the path that had been full of Ironblood Hall corpses soon became a path filled with the corpses of the Black Heaven Sword Sect.
The bloody path broke briefly, and he finally arrived at a garden that the Ironblood Hall Master had particularly cherished.
Other parts of the Ironblood Hall were badly damaged, but the garden was different.
The melted snow had mixed with blood to become muddy, pavilions shattered as though struck by massive boulders.
Corpses of Black Heaven Sword Sect warriors lay scattered everywhere, most of them in gruesome condition.
But one place alone remained untouched.
The center of the garden—the camellia tree the Ironblood Hall Master had proudly spoken of, saying it would soon be in bloom.
Snow lay pristine as though flames had never touched it.
The camellia tree stood with red flowers fully open.
And beneath it, kneeling and staring blankly upward, was the Ironblood Hall Master.
Her battle had ended before Cheon Hwi could reach her—
ended in her victory.
But it had not been without a price.
“Ah.”
A thick, stifled sigh, as if her breath caught.
Her state was severe enough for Cheon Hwi to react like that.
One arm had been cut off.
Her leg bent in a direction it never should.
And even worse—five swords were embedded in her small frame.
A situation where her death could come at any moment; Cheon Hwi rushed over desperately.
“Ironblood Hall Master!”
Had she heard his voice?
Or did the snow he kicked up snap her from her daze?
Barely clinging to life, the Ironblood Hall Master managed to turn her head with great effort to look at him.
Her life flame fading, her gaze cloudy—yet relief showed within it.
“So you have come.”
“Yes. Please wait just a moment. I will treat you immediately.”
“It is enough. This cannot be healed.”
“Please don’t say such things. We must at least try something.”
Even at her resigned tone, Cheon Hwi firmly shook his head and examined her injuries.
He pulled out the embedded swords, stopped the bleeding with acupoint seals, and adjusted the broken leg so it wouldn't worsen.
Doing everything he possibly could to save her… but soon, he found it.
The gaping hole in her chest—a brutal sword mark that had torn out the very place her heart should have been.
Even if he stopped the bleeding and used the best medicines, survival was impossible.
Frozen, unable to accept the truth, Cheon Hwi hesitated.
The Ironblood Hall Master gave him a faint smile.
“Blood Wolf. What of the Demonic Sound Ice Witch?”
“…I sent her off at the end.”
“That is at least fortunate. This One will soon follow, but seeing your face at the end… it is a pleasant feeling.”
Her attempt to ease him made his expression twist painfully.
Watching silently, Tang Sowol let out a deep sigh.
“It’s too cruel. Even if the Murim is a ruthless place… how could something like this…”
“Sowol, perhaps you do not understand. Annihilation usually unfolds this way. A maid who yesterday chatted about how pretty her hair was ends up violating herself and committing suicide…and the gatekeeper who let you slip out for fun lies with his guts spilled out.”
“Sister Hwarin…”
“The brother and sister who flaunted their martial arts die with their heads cut off…and the father who seemed so mighty kneels before the enemy, begging to at least save me.”
Seo Mun-Hwarin continued speaking with unfocused eyes, recalling another place as she looked at Cheon Hwi.
“All the things that made me happy or angry fade into meaninglessness. The place I ran toward as my life’s goal ends up worthless, rolling on the ground. A world collapses entirely—that is the annihilation This One knows.”
At that point, her eyes refocused on Cheon Hwi. A sense of kinship—and pity.
Without realizing it, a camellia flower dropped. Not petals—a whole flower fell intact.
The Ironblood Hall Master quietly looked at it and spoke.
“Blood Wolf.”
“…Yes.”
“This One will soon die, but you will survive. Even if This One ended up like this, the remaining enemies will be ones similar to or weaker than those already defeated.”
The name of the leader of the intruders grew hazy, as if covered by fog, and could not be heard.
Seo Mun-Hwarin mentally stored the detail for later, while the master’s final words reached her ears.
“So flee. You must preserve your life.”
“Knowing better than anyone how much I value my own life, you still say that?”
“Yes. That is true.”
Her voice weakened as she nodded.
She did not notice the dropped camellia on the snow…but the three women watching from afar all realized it—
Cheon Hwi was lying right now. And he was desperately suppressing his burning vengeance.
“In case you are thinking it… do not seek revenge. The enemy you would face—he has already died by This One’s hand.”
“I have no reason to take up another’s revenge when they weren’t after my own life.”
A lie.
Blood-colored light flickered in Cheon Hwi’s eyes.
The deviation of qi had already begun.
His mind was filled only with killing those who had done this to the Ironblood Hall.
But he held back—because the little time he had left with her was more precious.
Seo Mun-Hwarin swallowed without realizing it at the force of that resolve.
Oblivious, the Ironblood Hall Master reached toward the camellia.
“Then here is my final request. Do not remember me as I am now.”
Lifting the camellia carefully, she gazed at it.
“They called it ‘Hwayangyeonhwa.’ The meaning is…”
“A time that shines like flowers. The most beautiful period of life.”
“Correct. You remember well.”
She nodded proudly at Cheon Hwi, who at last showed signs of scholarly study.
But the three women who had watched him in compressed time knew—
He did not remember the meaning because he studied hard.
He remembered it because of the wistful voice of the one who had taught him—her.
“Blood Wolf—no, Cheon Hwi. Do not remember my death. Remember only the memories of joy we shared.”
“I will. Always… the Ironblood Hall Master—my teacher—will remain in my memory as a single camellia flower.”
“A teacher, hm. A little disappointing, but… not bad. Yes… not bad at all……”
Her voice faded. And then—
Tuk.
Her head fell like the moment a flower drops. The camellia rolled from her hand across the snow.
With life gone, qi no longer held the blood in her wound; it began to flow again. Bright red blossomed across the white snow.
Cheon Hwi quietly stared at the stain that resembled a camellia bloom.
Endlessly. As if broken. As if engraving something deep into his heart.
But it could not last long.
The remaining Black Heaven Sword Sect warriors realized the Ironblood Hall Master was dead and that Cheon Hwi was no longer sane.
They charged in.
This time, the group included several of the high-level warriors who had fought the master.
Most matched or slightly fell short of Cheon Hwi’s level—and they had numbers.
But Cheon Hwi did not care.
He staggered to his feet and raised his sword.
“Come.”
His eyes were now fully dyed in bloodlight.
Seo Mun-Hwarin guessed the root of that murderous aura and gave a bitter smile.
“Hmm?”
The sense of wrongness she had felt since the start of the fire suddenly intensified, swirling and distorting her senses.
And the moment she noticed the satisfied smile on the master’s lips—
The heavy fog in her mind scattered, revealing the Ironblood Hall Master’s face.
A face identical to hers.
And when she realized this, emotions that were hers and yet not hers surged in.
How she had failed, the regrets since becoming the Hall Master, the world that changed as she met Cheon Hwi…
Even though she cherished him, she had feared revealing it because she was too happy now.
Even the inexplicable impulses she sometimes acted on—she understood.
Most of all, she finally understood why hearing “I will remember you as a camellia blossom” had made her so happy.
Seo Mun-Hwarin had also experienced annihilation. She knew better than anyone the heart of a lone survivor.
And so, at the final moment of life, watching Cheon Hwi stand where she once had, she had wondered:
What kind of person will I remain in your life?
Like her past self, she did not want to remain as a painful memory.
She did not need to share the future at his side—she only hoped that when he remembered her, he would not suffer.
That was why she asked him to forget all resentment and remember only their happiest days.
Cheon Hwi had given the answer she wished for, allowing her to die smiling. But—
“Foolish thing.”
A squeezing pain gripped Seo Mun-Hwarin’s heart, and she clutched her chest reflexively.
Even a Flowering Stage master could not stop the tears falling from her eyes.
Through her blurred vision, she watched Cheon Hwi’s murderous sword dance.
It had all been a lie.
She had told him to forget so that he would not hurt—yet Cheon Hwi had embraced that pain as something precious.
He swung his sword until not a single person from the Ironblood Hall remained alive, but his revenge was not over.
Perhaps due to his deviation, his memory fractured in pieces, time jumping strangely—yet one thing was certain.
Murderous intent.
Cheon Hwi’s killing aura grew heavier with each passing day.
Keeping his promise, he hunted down every enemy remotely connected to the Ironblood Hall and annihilated them.
Blood and death never ceased, and Cheon Hwi—already in qi deviation—only broke further.
“This One told you not to remember it for this very reason.”
Watching someone descend into madness was painful by itself.
Throwing himself into lethal situations without caring for his own life, slaughtering without exception as if forgetting everything he had learned—
Normally, such rampages would quickly twist one’s meridians, make one’s movements simple and predictable, ending with being cut down.
But Cheon Hwi’s sword only shone brighter within that murderous aura.
Innate talent refused a mediocre death.
Thus he cut, and cut again, until he severed the chain of grudges entirely by killing every last connected enemy.
Forged in flame and cooled in blood, his sword became unrecognizably sharp.
He surpassed the boundary of Peak Stage and reached Sub-Perfection—as though becoming a sword himself, losing even the few expressions and emotions he once had.
When he finally returned, blankly, to the graves of the Demonic Sound Ice Witch and the Ironblood Hall Master—
a giant man appeared before him.
“If a man carries only a single sword within his Heartscape, they call him a ‘Sword Demon.’”
“So? How does it feel to have become a Sword Demon?”
Cheon Hwi opened his mouth slightly—
And as though someone yanked their backs, the three women were suddenly sucked upward into the sky.
“He really cuts it off at strange places again…!”
Cheon Hwi had done exactly what he was told not to do.
Annoyed that she couldn’t hear his answer, Seo Mun-Hwarin’s grumble echoed as she awakened from the dream of Demon Bell.
And she realized—
“Hiiik!?”
If the Ironblood Hall Master was herself…then the underwear thief was also—
“Hiiieeek!”
Though awake, Seo Mun-Hwarin couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes, thrashing in shame.
Her squirming was utterly pathetic.