Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C51

Chapter 51

Dan Hon Sa (斷魂沙).

Poison-infused sand began to creep up along Seowon’s arm. In the sunlight, the grains sparkled like the shimmer on the surface of the sea. Yet beauty aside, each scattered grain bit into Seowon’s flesh.

As the sand crushed its way in, Seowon shook his arm. The more he moved, the more tightly the sand wrapped around him, like iron chains. His legs, too, grew heavy—as though weighted with sacks of sand.

“……Is that all?”

Even after being struck by the Tang Clan’s poison, Seowon showed no sign of panic. He touched the sand clinging to his body and let out a short laugh.

“How dull.”

Without missing his timing, Mujin hurled a throwing blade at Seowon’s wrist.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Seowon’s sword flicked out, knocking the blade aside. He immediately poured internal energy into the weapon in his hand—a short Sichuan blade taken from one of the fallen martial artists.

His mind was foggy, as though shrouded in mist, yet his body brimmed with power. Once his internal energy had gone berserk, it had swollen to its limit, surging wildly throughout his body.

I feel alive.

A thrill shot through him, and Seowon laughed aloud. It felt as though he’d reached a realm no one else had tasted. Power he could barely control surged from every corner of his body. If he could wield this strength, losing his sanity was a small price to pay. That sort of thing no longer mattered.

With a casual swing of his sword, black demonic energy spilled forth—thick, viscous, the sort of aura only demonic cultivators should possess.

The Mount Hua plum blossoms carried by the wind had long since fallen. Instead of flowers in full bloom, withered buds began to take shape one by one. Jet-black petals, sharper than any throwing blade, filled the air.

“Playtime’s over.”

“So you begged to be killed, yet your life clings on longer than expected.”

Watching the madness unfold, Mujin replied calmly,

“That’s not what that life was preserved for.”

“You’d do better worrying about your own.”

Seowon glanced down at his grotesquely bulging muscles. The sheer amount of internal energy coursing beneath his skin was something Mujin couldn’t possibly imagine.

“You’ll never understand. Clinging to orthodoxy will never let you reach this realm.”

“Save your regrets.”

“Regrets?”

His long eyes curved into a beautiful smile—one that could steal the breath from anyone who saw it.

“As if. Killing like this is far too enjoyable.”

Blood vessels burst as his body failed to contain the power. With each black flower that bloomed, Seowon’s eyes grew redder. Watching his body become covered in poison and bruises, Eunmyeong bit his lip.

‘He’s going to die.’

Bursting blood vessels meant he’d reached his absolute limit. Eunmyeong hurriedly called out,

“Young Master!”

Sensing his gaze, Mujin met Eunmyeong’s eyes and nodded once, as if reminding him of their promise.

Mujin scattered his hidden weapons into the air. Each blade, facing a different direction, rose upward in unison. It looked as though falling rain had reversed course and returned to the sky. Seowon watched with visible interest.

“Oh? You’re at your limit too, yet you’re still forcing yourself?”

Seowon casually swung his sword. The black blossoms shot toward Mujin. Focusing his internal energy on the weapons, Mujin knocked aside the petals with his free hand.

Those he couldn’t deflect embedded themselves into his body. Long gashes tore across his arms, wrists, side, and right thigh.

Planting his feet, Mujin poured even more internal energy into the weapons. To avoid vital points, he needed meticulous control. Just as he redirected his energy toward Seowon—

Seowon shattered the sand binding him in an instant.

Dan Hon Sa exploded outward. Eunmyeong raised his sleeve to shield his face—and in that moment, someone hooked an arm around his waist.

“Ah!”

“Hero!”

Jeongho shouted. He reached out desperately, but Eunmyeong had already been dragged into Seowon’s grasp.

When Eunmyeong lifted his head, Seowon’s red eyes met his.

A chill ran down his spine.

“So we finally meet.”

Seowon greeted him lightly, stepping beneath the suspended weapons. With Seowon’s arm locked tightly around his waist, Eunmyeong was dragged along.

I can’t overpower him. I need another way.

Struggling was pointless. Eunmyeong couldn’t escape by force. He needed a way to bring Seowon back without fighting Mujin—or killing anyone.

Still holding Eunmyeong close, Seowon raised his sword toward the sky.

“Not bringing them down?”

“…….”

“If you keep hesitating, you’ll end up like me. Though… that might not be so bad.”

Only then did Eunmyeong realize his intent. With trembling eyes, he looked at Mujin. Sweat dripped from Mujin’s brow as he maintained the formation of his weapons.

Instinctively, Eunmyeong tried to run toward him—but Seowon tightened his grip.

“Oh dear.”

Seowon pressed close from behind. Each breath stirred Eunmyeong’s hair against the back of his neck.

“Running off and leaving me behind—how cruel.”

At the low voice, Eunmyeong slowly turned his head. It was the same voice—the one that used to call him Physician so gently.

But the man before him was completely different. Just meeting his eyes made Eunmyeong’s breathing falter, his body feel crushed. The pressure rivaled even what he’d felt when first meeting Tang Cheongwoo.

“Sword Master… I told you to hold on properly. You said my head might fly off next time…”

His voice shook as he spoke. Slowly, Eunmyeong turned and placed a hand at Seowon’s waist.

“You already forgot the promise we made two days ago?”

“What trick is this?”

Hearing unfamiliar words, Seowon brought his sword close to Eunmyeong’s neck. The blade gleamed sharply, ready to sever his head at any moment. Eunmyeong swallowed hard.

Yet the fact that his head didn’t immediately fall filled him with a strange relief. Clinging tightly to Seowon, he pressed closer.

“I didn’t forget.”

“What nonsense are you spouting!”

“You promised! You said you’d live—!”

Eunmyeong shouted as he hugged him tightly. That single sentence tore through the chaos in Seowon’s mind. As memories collided, Seowon’s grip tightened painfully around Eunmyeong.

Even as he gasped, Eunmyeong didn’t let go.

As he poured his energy in, demonic energy flared more violently from Seowon’s sword. Each brush of that energy carved thin red lines across Eunmyeong’s neck. Blood soaked into his collar.

When the energy flooded Seowon’s body, Eunmyeong felt it—a current trying to restrain itself from within.

‘It’s still there!’

The man who’d called himself an evil spirit, who’d cursed his own existence, was still there.

Hope flared. Eunmyeong lifted his head from Seowon’s chest.

“Tang Mujin!”

At that instant, the hidden weapons hanging in the sky plunged downward in unison.

Ignoring the rain of blades, Eunmyeong looked straight at Seowon.

“You said you’d live! Remember that!”

Please.

Crying out, Eunmyeong smashed his lips against Seowon’s. He pushed his tongue into Seowon’s mouth—and felt himself shoved away with violent force.

Bracing for pain, Eunmyeong squeezed his eyes shut.

“Tang Eunmyeong!”

Mujin’s voice rang out from behind him. Footsteps followed—but the falling blades were faster.

So this is how it ends?

The demon cult war hadn’t even begun.

Dying while trying to save a rampaging Esper—no, a Murim cultivator.

Bitterness and rage tightened his throat.

Just as a blade was about to strike his head—

As if by miracle, flowers erupted from Seowon’s sword, enveloping them both.

Countless blossoms bloomed at once. Still black—but their stamens were pure white, like true plum blossoms. Layer upon layer, they formed a vast cluster.

The blades tore through the petals. When one petal shredded, another followed. And when that fell, yet another took its place.

“Ah…”

Seowon stared at the blossoms being torn apart, scattered, destroyed. Yet they bloomed without fear—just like the disciples that day.

“You must regain your senses, Senior Brother!”

“Senior Brother Seowon! You can’t fall here!”

“Leaving this place will only put you in greater danger!”

Endless voices clung to him. Brother after brother threw themselves forward. If he cut down one, another stepped in. If he cut down that one, yet another seized him.

As those forgotten memories surged back, Seowon’s sword slipped from his hand.

“Ah…”

Clarity returned to his eyes. Feeling the demonic energy recede, Eunmyeong pulled back from his lips.

Barely able to stand, he held onto Seowon.

“So… what did I tell you?”

At the hoarse voice, Seowon’s gaze shifted from the blossoms to Eunmyeong. Seeing the goodness restored to his face, Eunmyeong smiled weakly.

“I said I’d save you…”

“Physician!”

Before the words fully left his mouth, Eunmyeong’s head tipped back. As his body collapsed, Seowon caught him in a panic.

“Physician! Physician!”

Someone pulled Eunmyeong from Seowon’s arms. Wrapped in that familiar cool embrace, Eunmyeong finally let his consciousness go.

Living is hard.

That was his last thought.