Chapter 100. A Swordsman, to a Swordsman
What defines a swordsman?
If only pure humans could be called swordsn, then more than half of the swordsn Dam Jeok-san had faced would be disqualified.
The monkey demon of the Sealed Heaven Golden Demon Forest.
The half-demon Murong Gang.
And the Sword Demon, whose battle remained unresolved.
None of them were human.
A swordsman is defined by his life.
By the sword that carries that life.
Nothing else can define a swordsman.
And to Dam Jeok-san’s eyes, the blade of that monster carried a life within it.
If so, it was only proper that he reveal his own life as well.
Thus, he stopped Bukgung Wan from intervening and raised his sword.
That monster was bound to this corrupted land.
There was no one left who could listen to his story—except Dam Jeok-san.
Kuuuuung—!
The monster’s sword strike crashed down like a raging tide.
Within that strike was stamped the screams of countless years, branded like scars.
Dam Jeok-san’s twin swords blocked the slash.
Refined sword qi seized the roiling demonic qi, the two interlocking and canceling each other out as steel clashed against steel.
From between the blades ca a shrill, grinding screech.
Yet to Dam Jeok-san, louder than that ugly noise were the countless stories he could hear.
The life of Three-Extre Sword Jeong Tae-san.
And his resentnt.
He could not define it precisely, but one thing was clear—
Jeong Tae-san regretted many things.
“So that’s why you couldn’t even die, and kept swinging your sword in a place like this.”
“…I will kill you.”
Dam Jeok-san muttered, but no answer ca.
Jeong Tae-san was trapped within his own world.
“Well, answers are easier to hear from a blade anyway.”
With a short sigh, Dam Jeok-san charged forward.
A simple downward slash from above.
A basic technique—
Yet it carried the weight of a mountain.
Kuuung!!
At the instant the blow landed, Jeong Tae-san was forced back two full steps.
“……”
The ancient specter had never crossed blades with another in all this ti—only endlessly swung his sword alone.
And Dam Jeok-san did not miss that opening.
Speaking with soone did not an passively listening.
Dam Jeok-san, too, was a swordsman with much to say.
His life was harsh enough to rival anyone’s.
Downward.
Upward.
Then diagonally.
His sword flow surged like a storm.
So strikes carried the rage of losing his holand to demonic beasts.
Others bore the humiliation of wandering after losing his dantian.
And yet others contained the glory of defeating Woo Seo-gwang and hearing his master declare that the Sword Dragon had returned.
Just as glory never lasts forever, neither does disgrace.
Dam Jeok-san’s sword—like his life—was rough, ever-changing.
And from beginning to end, Jeong Tae-san answered every strike with the sa move.
Three-Extre Contracting Fang Sword, its supre technique, Never-Forgetting Return to Heaven.
The strike he had used to annihilate the demonic beasts of Naless Village.
The strike he had repeated endlessly while bound to this land.
A blade too tyrannical and static to respond flexibly to Dam Jeok-san’s shifting forms.
“Impressive.”
Yet admiration escaped Dam Jeok-san’s lips.
The monster clung to a single technique—and still fought him evenly.
‘No… calling this even is generous.’
The monster’s strength was near infinite.
Lacking a dantian, the entire corrupted land served as his reservoir.
Dam Jeok-san, however, was steadily consuming internal energy.
Though he had not used techniques like Grievance-Extinguishing One Slash or Red–White Extre Smoke Slash, the drain was undeniable.
‘I can’t keep stalling without committing to a decisive move.’
Logically, the solution was simple.
With the Young Cult Leader’s help, force the monster into a corner and finish him with Red–White Extre Smoke Slash.
Even then, the specter bound to the land would not truly die—
‘But devouring should work.’
Swallow everything he possessed.
Erase him completely.
Restore the land to its original state.
Yet Dam Jeok-san’s instincts rejected that ending.
He wanted to offer a swordsman the highest courtesy another swordsman could give.
To understand what bound him.
To sever that binding.
And to defeat him—as a swordsman.
It was a deeply personal desire.
And an uncompromising conviction.
A vow to never take the easy road.
An oath to reach the ultimate peak, no matter how difficult the path.
Dam Jeok-san had sworn this when he regained his dantian.
And that vow beca the foundation of the world he was building.
So, naless swordsman—
“I will cut you down.”
Dam Jeok-san declared once more.
At the sa ti, his body and blade transford into a single beam of light.
A technique born not of realm, but of realization—
Body and Sword as One.
And thus—
Heaven-Shattering, Star-Destroying Form, Supre Technique, Grievance-Extinguishing One Slash.
A single, exhilarating stroke erupted forth.
A blade that began with a monkey swordsman tore through the void and ripped into the monster’s body.
Crunch!
The monster’s flesh split open.
Were he human, bone would have been exposed—
Yet only black, turbid demonic qi spilled out.
Hissss—
Even that qi soon vanished as the wound regenerated and flesh reford.
Flash!
As though nothing had happened, Three-Extre Sword swung again.
“I see.”
Rather than despair, Dam Jeok-san’s eyes shone with insight.
‘So damaging the body isn’t the point.’
That made sense.
The opponent was no longer a living being, but an anomaly bound to the land.
Piercing the heart or severing the neck might an nothing.
But—
‘If I break his sword, that changes everything.’
The monster’s foundation was obsession and regret.
And he had forged those into his blade.
To defeat him, Dam Jeok-san had to break that sword.
Clang—!
Their blades collided again.
A deadlock.
Clang! Clang! Claaang!
Strike after strike, yet nothing changed.
Neither could overwhelm the other.
Dam Jeok-san’s understanding of internal cultivation was far deeper.
He wielded the Heaven-Shattering, Star-Destroying Form and the Prajna Heart thod—peerless arts.
But the monster’s sword technique surpassed anything Dam Jeok-san—or even another Ultra-Peak expert—could replicate.
For nearly a century, he had honed a single strike beyond all limits.
That gap created a strange equilibrium.
A brief stillness.
Then the monster moved first—driven purely by instinct.
The killing intent-laden Three-Extre Contracting Fang Sword lunged for Dam Jeok-san’s throat.
Even as the blade neared his neck, Dam Jeok-san did nothing.
He simply watched.
This bizarre behavior continued until Bukgung Wan sensed danger and prepared a spell.
“Damn it—if you’re going to die, at least let avenge my loss—!”
Dam Jeok-san ignored him.
He watched the blade.
He did not know the monster’s na.
Nor the na of the technique.
But one thing was certain.
That sword was perfect.
Perhaps even comparable to the Northern Heaven Sword Venerable’s techniques.
At first, that was all he could see.
But as they exchanged strikes, he began to perceive more.
Or perhaps, to hear more.
The monster’s sword had not been refined over a lifeti.
It had been born from a single mont of impulse or realization—by chance.
That chance beca fate.
Repeated for over a hundred years.
Until finally—
“You’ve co to stand before .”
Dam Jeok-san murmured.
It was a shallow insight.
But it was enough.
Boom!!
Through it, he grasped the weakness of the monster’s blade.
‘The will is firm—but not sharp. Heavy. Crude.’
Sharpening one’s will was far harder than sharpening steel.
It required endless self-doubt—and the process of turning doubt into conviction.
But the monster never had that ti.
The mont his psyche shattered was the mont he fell.
Thus, his will was steadfast—but rough.
And that roughness was Dam Jeok-san’s opening.
Whoosh!
Dam Jeok-san’s blade traced a sharp arc, tearing through the monster’s strike.
Yet the monster resisted fiercely.
This was not a clash of technique—but of will.
Dam Jeok-san’s finely honed will gnawed away at the monster’s stubborn, almost foolish resolve.
This battle took place not in flesh—
but in intent.
And so—
“……!”
For the first ti, confusion entered the monster’s eyes.
As his will was suppressed, his body no longer moved freely.
Dam Jeok-san did not miss that mont.
And for the first ti—
“Y-you… who… are you…?”
The monster spoke.
Not a curse.
Not killing intent.
A genuine question.
“I am Dam Jeok-san, the third disciple of the Martial Sovereign.”
Unsure of the era the man ca from, Dam Jeok-san gave only what he might understand.
The Martial Sovereign had symbolized absolute martial power even a hundred years ago.
“And who are you?”
Still holding his blade steady, Dam Jeok-san asked.
The monster raised his sword with effort.
“Three-Extre Sect Master… Jeong Tae-san.”
He spoke his own na.
But only for a mont.
Intelligence vanished from his eyes, replaced once more by killing intent.
“I will… cut you down.”
He mistook Dam Jeok-san for the one who slaughtered the village.
Three-Extre Sword Jeong Tae-san slashed again.
This ti, his will was far sharper than before.
Dam Jeok-san did not panic.
Instead—
“Good. Now that’s more like it.”
He looked pleased.
Watching the two—
“Sword Dragon… he is the Sword Dragon of this era.”
Bukgung Wan whispered.
“Three-Extre Sect Master. That sword is wasted on soone as old and faded as you. Rember that.”
With those words, the Lesser Heavenly Demon vanished into the darkness.
There was no need to anxiously watch the outco.
Since the battle began, Dam Jeok-san had not once fought at full strength.
But now was different.
The mont Jeong Tae-san spoke his na, Dam Jeok-san’s presence transford.
Revealing the aura of a predator long suppressed,
Dam Jeok-san looked like an entirely different being.
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