Chapter 553
Thick blood flowed on the ground, and the air was filled with a chilling, red fog swirling like a mass of Gakdawi.
On one side, a wall of writhing flesh reached for the sky, waving numerous tentacles, undulating without a breath of wind.
In the midst of it all, a small hole appeared for people to come and go, illuminating the foul floating debris from the rotten abyss beyond the wall.
The gateway to the Entrance to Demon!
If you were a person, you would instinctively realize just how horrendous a place this is.
In fact, you wouldn’t even need instincts.
Just by seeing the ground covered in blood, with bits of flesh bobbing up and down and bones sticking up like reefs blocking the sky, you’d instinctively think, “This can’t be a normal place; it must be hell.”
Yet, countless warriors stepped foot into the flesh hole and threw themselves into the muck, resulting in as many demons born from the Entrance to Demon.
They knew it was vile and harmful, but they couldn’t resist the lust for power, the desire for a higher state.
Moreover, the gateway to the Entrance to Demon allowed free passage once you stepped in, so even if you deterred it once or resisted it twice, it continued to seduce you, flickering right before your eyes.
Reach out and it’s always right there.
Want power? If you desire it, go ahead and take it. It’s power reserved for you; you can claim it anytime.
And so, many warriors fell.
Understanding harmony was a long and arduous journey.
The path of the wise was difficult to see while alive, so they thought it better to die even if they had to receive power from the demon.
And now, before the portal of the Entrance to Demon, another figure rose from the realm of illusions.
A visitor emerging from the bloody depths.
Taking the shape of a stunningly beautiful woman.
The blood pooled on the ground quivered and shook violently, while the countless tentacles hanging from the wall of flesh wave in excitement.
Need power? Come, come to me!
Even the most grotesque of fiends revealed themselves, lifting thousands of eyelids and showcasing millions of eyes.
Countless had passed through the gateway to the Entrance to Demon, but none had received such a fervent welcome as the one born from the teachings of the Great Master Muhak.
And so the woman opened her eyes, gazing at the sky.
With both hands outstretched, her fists tightly clenched, but one finger was extended straight.
“Entrance to Demon, my foot! Eat some poop, you friendless bastards!”
And with a splat, she dispersed into the blood and vanished in an instant.
The abrupt insult or mockery left the gateway in stunned silence.
What was that? What just happened?
[…]
The eye of the grotesque entity in the sky trembled.
Whether it was a real monstrosity or a product of the mind, it couldn’t be discerned if it was Heaven’s Kill or Qing’s Kill, but if the fiend could think, it might have wondered.
Why the heck tell me to eat poop?
And why do I feel so dirty about it?
Qing opened her eyes and looked at the pure white snowfield.
Behind her stretched the long footsteps she had walked, leading to the horizon beyond the snowfield.
Before her was a towering ice wall reaching up to the sky.
An endlessly high cliff that likely stretched even to the void of darkness beyond that endpoint the eye could see.
Yet, in the thick ice wall, something electrifying trembled within the endless uncharted plains behind it.
That’s why she yearned for the realm beyond even more.
However, the ice wall steadfastly rejected Qing.
She recognized at a glance that her power was insufficient to break through.
Qing became aware of the reason why so many warriors ventured into the Entrance to Demon.
The wall of flesh opened up to those who touched it, a powerful seduction akin to a lewd temptress, crawling all over you.
But look at this ice wall.
It simply says, “You’re not ready; you’re not strong enough, go back and cultivate.”
This was a calm and indifferent message.
A massive pressure that gave off no emotion, like looking at something worthless.
Yeah. I can’t break it, nor can I pierce through.
That’s right. Not with my current self.
Qing admitted it.
But her heart whispered a certain conviction.
I can do it. The path I’ve walked is right, and the direction I’m heading in is correct; hope rises.
And so, Qing began to run.
The refreshing coldness of the snowflakes touching her skin, her beautifully dazzling face beamed joyously like a child.
So, Qing leapt.
An unbreakable wall, just as it always had been.
How could a supreme martial artist break it?
A thin, white finger became embedded in the transparent ice wall.
Hanging there, Qing folded her arms, pulled her body up, and extended her other arm to once again insert her beautifully delicate fingers into the wall.
Just because the unbreakable wall was blocking her didn’t mean she couldn’t find a way through.
If I can’t break through, I can go over it, right?
With the tracks she had left, the half-broken old sword, it was clear she was far from capable of breaking down the wall.
Still lacking, still incomplete, and yet, trying to solve it all alone, she was a foolish being.
That’s me.
Suddenly, a flower bloomed on the ice wall.
The shape of a flower reflecting a person, a poorly patched and lousy flower made with a half-broken, rusty sword.
Human Flower.
Soon, the center of the world.
Yeah, that’s what I was. So what’s it to you?
Yet I can’t just sit around waiting for some vague realization that will come someday.
I can’t just find a suitable opponent and kill every single one of them to enter the Life and Death Match.
So, Qing climbs the ice wall.
Ah, it’s freezing cold; well, it’s ice, so that makes sense.
I haven’t climbed up very much yet, but the icy chill feels like a blade slicing through my hands.
No, it’s not just my hands.
The ice touching my skin melts into cold water, soaking my body, and the wetness sticks to me, the chilly cold permeating into my flesh, muscle, and bones.
Opposites attract.
The coldest yin resembles the hottest yang, so the pain transmitted is similar.
The freezing chill ravaging her whole body punishes this arrogant human attempting the climb with fiery wrath.
Qing gritted her teeth.
Do you think I would lose?
Suddenly, Qing looked up, confirming the endless severance of that world with her eyes.
Hmm. Maybe I could lose.
Just going to the Entrance to Demon, no, wait.
I showed up here after performing a clear sign of mountains and cursing after I got there.
If I go back now, does that even make sense?
It’s better to bite my tongue and die than to be so ashamed I want to.
And so, Qing climbs the ice wall.
Up, up again.
Before she knew it, her body was covered in clumps of ice.
Her nails were broken and her skin was cracked, leaving bloody traces on the ice wall.
How much time has passed?
A day? Ten days? A month? A year? Ten years?
Still, she couldn’t adapt to the cold, and every moment became a fiery agony.
With the strength of a world champion, she could climb the ice wall endlessly for decades and centuries, but her arms trembled, muscles tearing as it felt like plucking individual hairs, truly, truly painful. It felt like death.
Even still, Qing climbed the wall.
The ordeal leading to old memories.
My precious people.
If I go one by one, there will certainly be something to say, so I should meet them in the order I encountered them.
San, Je-gal, Swordmaster, Nan-a, yes, Young Lady Mo Yong, Gunyongi, they must be desperately buying time.
And we all must return alive.
Master, if I want to avoid a fight, should I take the Realm of Transformation?
Jang Myung, sorry for ignoring you all this time, but honestly, Jang Myung truly sucks, like, really.
Master, if I take the Realm of Transformation, we’d be equal, right? Hee-mae, oh Hee-mae, your heart is all crushed. I would literally make dough out of it. I want to see Grandpa, my advisor. I must conclude things with the greatest intellect, Empress Mama, and with our Divine Maiden Sect masters and the chirping chicks, Seolga Merchant Association people, Martial Alliance, what’s that Chang-bin doing, not that I care, ah, I miss Hyang. I wonder how Jun is doing? Was his name Bongchun or Chunbong? The Goryeo festival of Narami, White Lotus’s shocking exposure of her white chest, countless fateful connections. And I don’t really want to see him, but Son Representative Ho, well.
Just as I saw in the Moon Lady Sword’s vision.
I’m the Cheonhwa-geom, the disciple of my master, an outer disciple of the Divine Maiden Sect, a Divine Dragon of the Martial Alliance, and the president of the Half-Sword Double Club—all because I’m special.
Of course, it’s a fact that I’m special.
You all acknowledge that I’m the Cheonhwa-geom.
Without you, I’d just be nothing.
Another flower bloomed on the ice wall.
Using destiny as its petals, each leaf replaying the joyful faces of acquaintances meeting eyes with smiles.
Earth Flower.
Earth, the foundation upon which people stand with two feet.
Qing simply ascended.
Now she could no longer see the ground below, and above her stood the never-ending barrier.
Qing was no longer a person but a mass of ice, incapable of tearing off the thick ice clinging to her.
It hurts, I hurt, it’s tough; I can’t breathe, my arms feel like they’re going to fall off, and the icy flesh pierces her with millions of needles while it’s banged by a hammer, to the point where she can’t even scream.
But she couldn’t stop.
She mustn’t stop.
Because her friends were waiting.
As the president, she had a duty to save her members.
Even if they’re all painfully insufficient and anxiety-ridden fools, she believed they could hold on for her sake.
Once I take the Realm of Transformation, I’ll tear this place apart and end it all.
And we must return together.
I want to live, and I want you to live too.
We all need to survive together, eat together, bathe exclusively for female members, visit attractions across the Central Plain, train together, laugh together, cry together, and list countless things that come to mind, making her feel she could talk continuously for days.
Yeah. Us.
In an instant, her fingertips danced through thin air.
Not like the pain of smashing fingers into something hard, no. It was a soft, gentle corner.
Huh? Qing absentmindedly looked up.
The clear sky, even after climbing for what felt like thousands of years, was still blue. Where did the universe go? Isn’t there a universe in this pseudo Central Plain Martial World? Is this what my martial world looks like?
Her arms flared over the ice wall, and her head popped up, revealing a transparent flower blossoming.
Huh? What’s this? A congratulatory bouquet?
Heaven Flower.
Heaven. Universe. World. Everything.
Three flowers bloomed like a halo behind Qing’s head.
Three Flowers Gather at the Top.
Establish yourself, stand firm on the foundation, and recognize the world.
To realize oneself, one must see the world and understand the earth.
Only then will one know they stand upon it.
You exist because I do, and because we are together, this is the world.
Harmony of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity—her fragrance resonated across three thousand worlds.
Thus, a person sets out with their heart to give life to their ideas.
People revered this, calling it the realm of harmony, the Realm of Transformation.
Qing stood atop the wall, looking down at the world.
Now understanding why direct advice regarding enlightenment was taboo, and why her master would thump his chest in frustration.
Now she comprehends.
In this world, there are as many worlds as there are people, and each of the heavenly-earthly-human is unique.
Even if others communicated their worlds, it would be meaningless and only disrupt their dreamy illusions.
So what do you do? Just looking at our Half-Sword Double Club members who are stuck whining because they think they’re peak martial artists, does it infuriate me or what?
But it’s alright. Embrace them with love and just coax them.
Right now, yep. Gotta go rescue those kids.
What can I say? Yeah, here comes the Realm of Transformation Evolution, the Cheonhwa-geom!
Qing smiled brightly.
Then, without hesitation, she leaped beyond the barrier.