Chapter 20 - We Are Demons, After All

When you receive a new sword, those first moments matter.

A sword forms a bond with its wielder, and with an extraordinary treasured blade like the Black Demon Sword, the depth of that bond is beyond comparison with ordinary swords.

A sword never rejects a martial artist outright, but without a proper bond, its wielder cannot draw out its full power.

The same holds true when the wielder fails to understand the weapon’s nature—someone with extreme-yang internal energy using a weapon imbued with extreme-yin qi, for instance, or a practitioner of evil arts wielding a Buddhist weapon.

How one handles the sword matters as well. Wielding a fierce blade like this Black Demon Sword gently, or handling the gentle White Flower Sword roughly, likewise prevents the sword from displaying its full might.

In my life before regression, I had once seen a sword so attuned to its master that it sang on its own. It had been a magnificent sight, and I had wished for a sword like that myself.

‘Can I become that attuned to this sword?’

After calming my mind through qi-circulation meditation, I drew the Black Demon Sword.

Even without an infusion of true qi, the blade’s own keen presence chilled the air around me.

‘Good to meet you. I’ll be your master from now on.’

Slowly, I infused the Black Demon Sword with internal energy. This was the first moment my internal energy and the sword met.

Sword force began to gather around it. Waves of sky-blue light rippled along the blade.

‘It really is different!’

The color differed from the sword force I had produced until now. I had expected it to grow deeper and darker with the Black Demon Sword, but instead, the blue was brighter and more radiant. Sometimes little things move us more deeply than anything else, and I was delighted by the change in color.

‘I like you.’

I hoped the Black Demon Sword would feel exactly what I felt.

After withdrawing my sword force, I began performing the forms of the Heaven-Soaring Sword Art.

The Black Demon Sword was not a gentle blade. To suit its nature, I had to execute the forms with as much fierce, forceful momentum as possible.

The Heaven-Soaring Sword Art felt different when performed with the Black Demon Sword.

After completing a round of forms, I spoke to the sword in my mind.

‘For now, we’ll survive with this sword art. Later, I’ll teach you a truly incredible martial art. Let’s hold out until then. All right?’

I worked to forge a bond with the Black Demon Sword.

Simply conveying my feelings was not enough, so I trained and trained until it felt familiar in my hand.

I trained after meals and as soon as I opened my eyes. Sometimes I trained without eating at all. Even when I slept, I held it in my hand. I trained in my dreams, too.

For a while, I devoted myself entirely to training.

Today, as I stepped outside to head to the training grounds, the sight before me startled me.

Hundreds of demonic martial artists filled the large clearing in front of my home.

They were the Saber Fiends, the Blood Heaven Saber Demon’s followers. I could not tell whether he had sent them or they had come of their own accord, but their hostility toward me was unmistakable.

Their cold gazes and the demonic qi they emitted bore down on me.

I found myself clenching my back teeth. Even in my long life before regression, I had never faced the qi of so many people at once. Even benevolent qi would have been overwhelming in that quantity, and this was outright killing intent.

If I held out much longer, I would suffer internal injuries!

When I still refused to retreat, their demonic qi grew stronger. It struck my body like a pounding shower of rain. As pain threatened to tear my entire body apart, a secret technique suddenly came to mind.

Taking the full brunt of their demonic qi, I began applying a set of cultivation instructions.

The Thousand-Meridian Strengthening Art.

It was one of several secret techniques I had learned in my previous life, an art capable of strengthening the meridians.

As the channels through which true qi flowed, meridians were the most important part of a martial artist’s body. They were also the hardest to strengthen.

The Thousand-Meridian Strengthening Art used the internal qi emitted simultaneously by multiple martial artists to pummel the recipient’s entire body and strengthen their meridians. The more people involved, the better the results.

Opportunities to receive this much demonic qi all at once were rare, so I had risked using the Thousand-Meridian Strengthening Art.

I had hoped to use it someday. Who would have thought that day would be today?

When I closed my eyes and deliberately put on a pained expression, the bastards eagerly poured out even stronger demonic qi.

‘More, more, more!’

The happier I grew, the deeper I made my grimace.

They must have wanted me to back down. To flee their demonic qi and hide inside my home. They probably intended to keep up this pressure for days, turning me into a coward too frightened even to step outside.

Using the Thousand-Meridian Strengthening Art, I advanced one step at a time.

Their demonic qi poured down even harder.

The meridians throughout my body convulsed, while my true qi raced through them at terrifying speed, following the strengthening art’s instructions.

My mastery of the Thousand-Meridian Strengthening Art was now passing through the second stage and into the third.

‘More, more, more!’

With every step I took forward, their demonic qi surged violently. This was a contest of presence, a contest of pride.

How many steps had I taken?

Before I knew it, the Thousand-Meridian Strengthening Art had passed through the fourth stage and was approaching its fifth and final stage.

Normally, such rapid progress was impossible. The hardest part of the art was aligning the minds of those emitting qi so that they produced a single, unified force.

The emotion carried by all the demonic qi striking me now was one and the same: hostility.

The demonic qi that had seemed as though it would pour down forever gradually began to subside. Even the Saber Fiends had limits to the internal energy they could expend.

When the demonic qi vanished completely, I opened my eyes. I had already completed the fifth and final stage of the Thousand-Meridian Strengthening Art. Thanks to them, my meridians had become incomparably stronger than before.

I saw the Saber Fiends staring at me. Every face was aghast and shaken. They could never have imagined I would withstand their demonic qi to the very end.

Swarming me like a pack of dogs and unleashing demonic qi without warning was a despicable, petty act, but I decided to forgive them just this once.

I moved slowly toward them.

Though hundreds had gathered there, the only sound was that of my footsteps.

The tension was such that if someone shouted, “Kill him!” the clearing seemed liable to become a sea of blood in an instant.

And I was the victor in this battle of wills. By enduring the demonic qi they had unleashed, I had already broken the Saber Fiends’ momentum.

The Saber Fiend at the front stepped aside to make way. Like pieces standing in a row toppling one after another, those behind him moved aside as well. I walked down the path the crowd opened for me.

Their expressions varied. Some looked astonished, some shaken, some impressed, and others angry.

But not one who met my eyes dared make a provocative move.

I said nothing. I had won the contest of presence, but I knew that needlessly pricking their pride would send the Saber Fiends into a frenzy.

And so I walked quietly out of the clearing.

As I took my final steps, I sensed a change in their emotions. They were showing respect for my endurance of their demonic qi and the nerve I had displayed in walking through their ranks.

Demonic martial artists were simple. They trampled the weak and worshipped the strong. It would be more accurate to call that their nature than a cowardly trait.

Only after I had left them completely behind did I let out a sigh.

“Whew.”

We had not exchanged a single word, yet it felt as though I had fought a great war.

From there, I went straight to see someone.

I followed the red carpet to the empty throne.

I could not presume to climb the steps and sit in it, but I wondered what it would feel like to look down on the hall from that seat.

Then a deep voice sounded behind me.

“Do you want to sit there?”

It was Father.

Without turning, I answered, “No. I don’t want to be trapped in that chair.”

“More sophistry, I see.”

Smiling, I turned and bowed my head respectfully to him.

Father passed me and ascended toward the throne.

“Come up here.”

He called to me from beside the throne.

I slowly climbed the steps and stood at his side.

“Sit.”

This was the moment for some pointless quip, but I quietly took the seat. I had wanted to sit there at least once.

“How is it?”

I looked down at the view from the throne. The first things that caught my eye were the pillars flanking the red carpet and the evil spirits carved into the walls. Despite its splendid, imposing decorations, the hall looked somehow desolate from here.

“I thought it would be tremendously exciting, but I don’t feel anything.”

Then Father said something unexpected.

“Neither did I.”

I turned my head to look up at him. One might have expected regret for the passing years to flicker through those impassive eyes, but he looked as unchanging as ever.

“The Saber Fiends came in a mob earlier. I don’t know whether the Blood Heaven Saber Demon sent them or they conspired among themselves...”

Father interrupted me.

“They went of their own accord.”

“So you knew.”

As expected, Father knew everything. Both I and the Eight Demon Supremes were under his watch.

“They showed open hostility toward me. I held my ground so their presence wouldn’t overwhelm me. While I was enduring it, I felt fine, but once I left, I began to tremble.”

“Were you afraid of them?”

“No. I think I was afraid not of the Saber Fiends, but of having judged the situation wrongly. If someone had gotten carried away and charged me, starting a fight, I might have died there. Even if I survived, I could hardly become the successor after slaughtering the Saber Fiends. I think that was what frightened me. The fact that I might face another moment when I have to make a choice with everything at stake...”

I told him exactly how I felt.

I had wanted to share these feelings with someone, and that someone was Father, not Yi An. Why? Emotionally, I was closer to Yi An.

“When I thought of that, I wanted to see you, Father.”

Father tossed out his reply indifferently.

“A demonic martial artist does not look back. He looks only ahead and keeps going.”

A life spent moving forward without looking back... I knew better than anyone what sort of life that was.

‘As you say, Father, I won’t look back. But I won’t look only ahead, either.’

For a long while, we gazed at the view from the throne.

“It looks so desolate from here. Is there really any need to keep those statues of evil spirits?”

“We must not forget that we are demons.”

The words felt alien to me. Perhaps I was not destined to live as a demon.

“How about statues of beautiful women instead? The famous Four Flowers of the Central Plains, for instance. We could put one in each corner.”

I stole a glance at Father. He was looking down at me as though I were pathetic.

“Since I’ve started spouting nonsense, it must be time to get up. Please take your seat, Father.”

I rose from the throne and slowly descended the steps.

When I turned at the bottom, Father was still standing beside the throne.

Meeting his downward gaze, I asked calmly, “May I kill the Blood Heaven Saber Demon?”