MTLNOVEL Chapter 555
청’s Buddha’s Physical Body has echoed the sound of the bell many times before.
But this time, the tone was different—more intense and colossal, resonating deep within and leaving a lingering hum.
The sound of the bell represents everything, the principles of the universe, the cycles of life and death, and the law of karma.
Thus, the sound serves to sever human suffering and cleanse the heart; it’s the purest sound in existence.
Perhaps that’s why everyone in the hall is drawn to it.
Even the Blood Ghouls, those lowly creatures used to devouring Sapa Warriors, momentarily drop their gluttony to seek the source of that enchanting sound.
To the Ban-gyeong-gyeong Association, it was the sound they had been waiting for—most welcome and warm.
Everyone wore expressions of joy; some offered subtle smiles, while others exhaled sighs of relief, believing their faith had been rewarded, turning their heads instinctively to find its bringer.
A place where all eyes converge—a lone Blood Human stands tall, arms stretched wide.
Drenched in blood with not a trace of her original color, the woman still manages to retain her beauty.
Suddenly, all fighting ceases, and a tranquil silence filled with distant birdsong envelops the scene.
It’s that moment when someone swallows hard.
The blood-soaked beauty parts her lips.
“Ahh, ugh, I’m dying…!”
And then, she collapses.
The woman’s form begins to crumble.
In that instant, an unanswered question looms above everyone’s heads in the Central Plain.
…? What’s going on? Is this the return of the light? Is this the most brilliant moment just before the sun sets? The last strike fueled by desperation?
“Qing Ah!” “Qing!” “Young Lady Seomun!”
Friends cry out urgently, their voices ringing through the air.
As Qing opens her eyes, she’s greeted by a graceful whirlwind of dancing.
Mo Yong Joo-hee is performing.
Kim Yang-geomhwa, the beauty of the Geomhwa style, becomes the very embodiment of that beauty, flowing like silk in the wind, a nickname given by the masses.
One sword is a straight, sturdy blade.
The other is a slender, flexible curved sword.
With both swords spread like wings, she twirls, her elongated sleeves fluttering gracefully like a butterfly.
The Blood Ghouls rush in, scratching at the air, only to be swept away, blood splattering everywhere.
Moving at double speed while appearing to drag along at half the pace, it’s a bizarre beauty that catches the eye.
For a moment, their eyes meet, but they don’t.
In a daze, she seems to gaze far beyond—lost in realization, perhaps?
That admirable beauty, the lovely Young Lady Mo Yong… she appears to be holding up just fine.
Qing’s heart feels a twinge of relief.
Boom! The loud crash reverberates through the air.
Qing’s gaze snaps back urgently.
Her eyes widen, and she instinctively rises, hands outstretched to push through the air.
Her fingers awkwardly mimic the gesture of the Amitabha Buddha, while the sound of truth from the bell resonates.
And then, Ugh. Oh, me, what…
A ferocious pain hits her like a freight train.
As if the breath was knocked out of her, a wave of sweat beads on her forehead and back, each drop feeling like a needle.
Qing tilts her head, revealing a long gash running from her shoulder down to her knees, filled with coagulated blood.
The pain, which she had pushed aside until now, rushes in suddenly, overwhelming her.
It’s a heavenly punishment—for not recognizing the value of her own body and recklessly making it suffer.
What state am I in right now?
How can I be alive?
The faint sound of me begging for charity must’ve slipped out.
I hardly recognize my own words, the darkness closing in around her.
And then, just like that, Argh…!
Her body contorts, and even her injuries seem to follow, leaving a brief moment where her mind drifts, accompanied by a sickening, killer urge to give up.
“Qing!” “Qing Ah!” “Young Lady Seomun!”
If it weren’t for the voices piercing her ears, she might’ve just curled up and trembled.
But in a moment, it felt like her spirit, having slipped out, somehow returned.
Qing grits her teeth, pushing herself back up, pressing her left foot to the ground while desperately keeping her knees from buckling.
She raises the Crescent Moon Sword and points its cold tip at Chang Sanya.
Her legs tremble, and her arms shake uncontrollably—she’s clearly not in a good state.
Yet, she has enough strength to swing at least once.
What sort of backlash will follow? She can’t even picture it, but thanks to this, she’s reaching one last opportunity attained through her realm of transformation—one where they all can finally share a feast together.
Surely, eating is crucial for survival.
Eating together means they can all continue living on.
“Hey, old man. Stop picking on the weak and come at me!”
Even if her voice comes out mangled, isn’t it praiseworthy that she didn’t scream in pain?
“You, you!”
“Hey! Are you going to keep bullying the kids who barely know martial arts?! Boasting about being young, has that made you sprightly? Tch, is it a proud thing to have eaten your age? If it were me, I’d rather stick my nose in a bowl of beef soup and end it all than age disgracefully like you.”
The pretty mouth spits out filthy words.
Yet, their impact was tremendous.
With the greed blazing in the Demon’s heart, this was nothing short of a true provocation that made the anger boil over.
At this point, just hearing the words “hey, old man” would’ve likely turned the blood in their eyes red. But Qing was oblivious to that, so she kept chatting away.
Because she didn’t have the guts to approach.
They need the enemy to come.
Boom! The fierce momentum crashes into her.
The force of Chang Sanya charges at her with a terrifying speed.
Qing captures that sight in her large eyes.
With a deep breath, she scans her stepping pattern—right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, she has to read those subtle shifts.
Ah, that kid’s left foot is unsteady!
Qing raises the iron crescent moon sword high—
And so, the world bends to follow her.
The earth tilts.
The Cheonhwa-geom sinks down, while the universe attempts to swap positions, flipping the world upside down.
With the earth rising like a cliff, Chang Sanya is descending towards it, in a fall rather than a rush.
As the ground rises vertically, it truly resembles a sky scraper, crashing down.
Chang Sanya is bewildered.
With the world tilting, he’s pushed forward toward her sword blade.
Like a ship capsizing in a storm, the earth flips over, laying his body flat.
The universe witnesses this strange scene.
All gazes converge upon the bell’s sound, witnessing a world turned upside down, where a mere human’s will renders them incapable of even moving a finger.
Solid as stone, they can only watch.
The heavens and earth are flipped.
Among it all, one thing stands still.
A singular crescent moon sword remains planted firmly—without movement, standing vertically. A sudden realization dawns, Ah, there, that’s the very center of the world.
Chang Sanya dumbly tilts his head back towards the sky, the upside down world reflecting above him as he looks down.
The crescent moon’s blade, a stone’s throw away from him, glints ominously.
Facing death, he gathers the last of his strength, pushing off the ground with all his power.
Searing pain shoots through his thigh in a glaringly intense flash.
He’s staggering, losing strength.
Ah. That damn pretty boy—
That was Chang Sanya’s final thought.
The earth hurls itself at the crescent moon blade.
The completely inverted world, evolving as one.
As the dawn sky unfolds underneath him, the sun dips into an endless abyss, radiant colors swirling, while the ground closes above him like a ceiling.
Just one weapon holds its place.
Because that is the center of the world.
Suddenly, the world rightens itself.
To say it returned isn’t entirely accurate.
Like a long dream of spring, it vanishes suddenly like a mirage.
Gasping breaths fill the air as muffled sounds echo back and forth.
And then, just like that, the being is toppled.
He was standing upside down in a flipped world.
The lone sword, the Deadly Solo.
Solely existing in the world, becoming the master of the universe and the cosmos as a whole.
If a sword’s eye could see the world, it would see itself unyielding, opponents approaching, the world spinning, flipping directions all around, and rotating from all sides.
Divine Sword Merging—standing as the world’s master, if viewed through that sword, even the slightest movement wouldn’t occur.
Finally, with a delay, Chang Sanya collapses.
His body, split in two at the midpoint, spills forth its insides, steam rising from the gory mess.
Qing exhales, puffing a breath of relief.
Did that crazy old man Mucheondae see this?
The greatest martial artist to ever exist, who poured all his hopes into forging the Nine Seals, from start to finish, entirely coloring the universe in his image.
But…
Old Mucheondae doesn’t quite fit the bill.
Being alone in the world isn’t anything to celebrate.
This grandpa, too, must have been without friends.
Yet, within the vague glimpse of a realm beyond realms, the unavoidable solitude that a martial artist must eventually face—an unmistakable destiny painfully jabs at her chest.
No matter how developed one’s abilities may be, cultivation is ultimately a personal endeavor.
There will come a time when decisions will have to be made—
“Cough.”
Qing coughs lightly.
And then, whoosh!
The harshly-gripped hemorrhage erupts.
Her entire muscle tenses, every bone fracturing with fine cracks.
Her vision blurs red, turning her field of view hazy, as blood spills from her nostrils and mouth, and there’s nothing but silence in her ears, only the thick, viscous liquid flowing through her senses.
Yeah, I knew it would come to this.
The more she’s reached the realm of transformation, the clearer her visions of the seals glow. Addressing her battered body, she’s barely managing to hold it together.
Regardless, I’ve done what I could, right?
Struggling against the fading lucidity, there was no need to endure a punishing backlash alone.
After all, she has friends.
Even if battered and bruised, they’re there to catch her, to watch over her, to take care of what lies ahead.
Yeah, I can rely on them for the back end, right?
I’ve done enough work; now it’s time to rest.
Qing, instinctively smiling gently, realizes how comforting it is to be able to fall after leaving things to someone else.
Have I been too foolishly stubborn?
What if I had sought help from the Martial Alliance from the beginning?
Or what if I had sent a request for assistance to Master before heading over there, maybe on my way to apologize?
Maybe even if I had just come to Hangzhou with General Wang Sang-ryong and the others.
Ah, but…
Isn’t this like a fleeting moment of clarity?
If things go wrong, I might really be done for…
And just like that, darkness descends.