SSS-Class Revival Hunter - Chapter 82

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ SSS-Class Revival Hunter ◈

Chapter 82: The Humblest in the World (2)

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"Aha!"

The Master laughed.

"Ughahaha! Hah!"

Her nasal bone was broken, and blood streamed down. Spilling her blood over the white snow, whoosh! Master swung her bare fist.

"Huh?!"

The fist struck the Head of the Martial Alliance squarely on the jaw. As he staggered, the Master didn't miss a beat. She lunged. She pounced. She bit down.

"Ugh!"

Crunch!

"Cough, gasp! You, insane creature...!"

The Head of the Martial Alliance hastily pushed her away, but his ear was already soaked in blood. A ripping sound followed as flesh tore off. “Krhup!” A low groan flowed across the snowy field.

“Ptoo!”

The Master spat out the blood-soaked ear onto the snow. Her lips were also stained red. She smiled, seemingly satisfied with her prey.

A demon.

She was like a bloodthirsty ghost.

“Fu! What a foul taste! Is the high and mighty martial arts of the Namgung family useless in improving flesh quality!”

“You, demon! As if being a heretic wasn't enough, now you indulge in cannibalism!”

“You are an old man like spinach gone sour with age. But what you said earlier was not without merit.”

The Master wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“The Great Orthodox-Demonic War should have ended on the first day. Both of us faltered. We thought we were fighting with all we had, but in truth, we didn’t. We didn’t truly risk our lives!”

"......."

“Today's battle is a second chance that should never have been given.”

The Master looked at me.

Her dark eyes held a warm and gentle kindness.

“We can't foolishly repeat the same mistake. Great Axe Sage. Today, I will give my all."

“...You intend to destroy your vital energy.”

“Yes.”

Innate True Ki or Vital Energy.

The energy everyone is born with, essentially life force itself. Unlike internal energy or Ki , True Ki cannot be accumulated artificially. Once used, it's over. And the fate of a martial artist who draws on 'life' is set.

Death or becoming a cripple.

For martial artists, True Ki is truly a last resort, akin to a final stand.

“...Demon. We are both weakened now anyway.”

The Head of the Martial Alliance spoke. Maybe due to losing an ear, his expression was fiercely grim.

“Even if we use True Ki now, we can only exhibit the skill of mid or low-level martial artists. Without internal energy, even our Dantians are gone. It's impossible to wield divine might. ...Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Are you planning to break your True Ki just to show off the martial prowess of a mere mid-level warrior!”

“Of course.”

The Master smiled.

“Don't be angry, Namgung Woon. I'm not trying to abandon life. Not at all. I'm just hoping that my last moment comes today.”

"......."

“I feel an unparalleled joy in being alive right now. I'm thankful, ever so thankful. Grateful to have survived until today, and for this fate that allows me to die today.”

“The world has perished, yet you say this?”

“Yes. I'm thankful for every relationship I've encountered until this moment.”

The Master slowly assumed her stance.

Right hand forward. Left hand back.

“Looking back, I truly am a blessed warrior.”

Whoosh!

Snow swirled around. It wasn't snow from the sky. A small whirlwind formed around the Master. It was the flow of Innate True Ki. The wind spread from the Master as its center.

“...So it is.”

The Head of the Martial Alliance faced her wind with a bare face.

“Good. I too have long yearned for a day like today.”

The wind reversed its course.

“Let's die together, Heavenly Demon.”

The two charged towards each other.

And I saw the flow of two lives across the snowy field.

The Master deflected the Head of the Martial Alliance's hand. He tripped her foot. As arms interlocked and footsteps crossed, endless True Ki flowed from their bodies. It was a leakage of life.

The eternal snow that even the sun could not melt yielded to the lives of those two.

The Master struck the Head of the Martial Alliance's waist. The wind blew. Where her fingertips pointed, where the wind passed, snow flowed.

In a world covered in snow, only the paths where the two had passed slowly revealed bare ground.

"......."

But that was not all.

Around the battleground of the Master and the Head of the Martial Alliance, slowly, rapidly, things other than white began to grow. Weeds. Bushes. While the rest of the earth remained frozen under snow, their path of struggle saw the birth of seasons.

-Their True Ki is feeding it.

Guardian Spirit commented.

- Such great warriors' True Ki is a feast. Albeit brief.

Even if it was only for a moment, their seasons were beautiful.

The earth drank the True Ki shed by the two. Thus, for a brief moment, the world returned to its state before being engulfed in eternal winter.

It was a forest of peach blossoms.

As if time sped up, peach trees grew and thickened. The peach branches resembled human fingers. The branches creeping up from the earth stretched towards the sky, as if trying to grasp something.

Flowers bloomed.

Among the pink petals and finger-like branches, the Master and the Head of the Martial Alliance continued their combat.

Hand gestures and footwork intended to kill each other.

Yet whenever the petals briefly hid them, their contest of martial skill, bimu (比武), became a matched dance, bimu (比舞); and because the lives they had lived were at stake, it was also a contest of lives, bimyeong (比命). Behind flower petals, so much in the world became radiant. Even killing intent. Even your fierce malice, Master.

-...This is quite rare.

The white snowy field.

Red peach blossoms fluttered.

-Maybe it is because one was born with an Extreme Yin Body and the other with a Heavenly Martial Body. Their yin and yang are interlocked almost perfectly. The space around those two is already another world. Even I have never seen anything this extraordinary.

Peach blossoms bloomed and withered.

Spring lingered and then passed.

"Heavenly Demon's Dominating Steps."

The Master stepped forward. A blizzard rose, scattering peach blossoms.

"Sky Destroying Golden Axe."

The Head of the Martial Alliance caught her wrist and twisted it. The snowstorm ceased, and the peach blossoms bloomed again.

"......."

A petal drifted on the wind, landing on my shoulder.

I then realized.

Those red flowers are the blood of the Master. The blood of the Head of the Martial Alliance.

The petals blooming from the blood the two shed in their final moments.

"---I despise you."

Winter is bleeding.

"I despise you all."

The Master.

“I hate the Orthodox Faction. I hate great heroes. I hate the Nine Sects. I despise the Five Noble Clans. While the common people scream, you remain happy. Aloof and noble. Yet it was not your happiness that I could not forgive. Never.”

The Master.

"Creatures like you also feel pain,"

Peach blossoms bloomed and withered, seasons lingered and passed, but the rising petals grew fewer, and the lingering seasons shortened.

"Creatures like you also suffer in life, express pain, seek comfort, give comfort, pretending to be human in that way."

The Master is dying.

"I hate it."

The flowers wither.

"Why,"

The season fades.

"Why are you endless beasts to others yet endlessly human to yourselves?"

Countless peach blossoms obscured the shadows of the two.

Looking back, it was a dream as brief as an instant, a duel lasting no longer than the time needed to drink a cup of tea.

The branches dried up. No more peach flowers bloomed. Wind blew, covering the bare ground with snow again. In the center of the fallen petals, the Master and the Head of the Martial Alliance stood tall.

"......."

Stagger,

“…Cough, gasp! Pff, hup…!”

Above the red field of flowers, something even redder was coughed up.

It was the blood of the Head of the Martial Alliance.

Master’s tightly clenched fist rested against his chest. The old man swayed like a mirage, then collapsed lightly. Flump. Red petals rose into the air as they received his body.

The Master stood quietly.

"Master."

There was no response to my call.

"Master."

I quickened my pace and ran to her, standing rigidly, and embraced her.

She was cold.

Her body was as cold as ice.

“Master…”

“I won.”

Her voice was clear. The warmth that had disappeared from her body still lingered in her voice. But she felt too light. Her fingers, her frame, it was as if she had aged rapidly, becoming feather-light.

“Yes, you won. You won.”

“I should have pierced through his chest with my fist and grasped his heart. I couldn't even do that; I just hit him. I have no face to show my disciple.”

“No, that’s not true.”

“Yes. Even so, my face must look better than yours does right now. What is that expression?”

I carefully settled Master against my chest. I enveloped her body in Aura, but she did not grow even slightly warmer. Even the fingertips stroking my cheek were as cold as icicles.

“Don’t worry, my disciple. I still have about two hours before I breathe my last breath.”

Two hours.

"That is enough time for a proper farewell."

Only two hours remained to hear her voice, to listen to her breathing.

“…Yet you wear such a sad expression.”

The Master looked sorrowful.

“A disciple troubling their master. But I have already troubled you. I wanted to convey everything over time, but due to this old fool's stubbornness, I couldn't. I worry about what I will leave in your heart, what I will be remembered as.”

“I am afraid I will become emptiness to you,” Master whispered, then coughed up blood.

“If I'm remembered as a briefly bloomed flower, I could ask for nothing more…"

“King of Death!”

A frantic shout echoed.

It was the voice of the Apothecary. Realizing the Great Orthodox-Demonic War had taken place on the snowy field, the Apothecary and others from the tower rushed over.

“King of Death, what, what happened…"

“Hey! Master!?”

Viper was startled to see the Head of the Martial Alliance.

“Are you all right?! Hey, Master! Come on! Open your eyes!”

“He’s fine.”

The Master coughed weakly.

“The last punch was shallow. It didn't penetrate deeply. Bragging about his heavenly fortune... it seems his fortune is to live as a cripple for the rest of his life.”

“A cripple?”

The Apothecary was flustered.

“I won’t let it... Anyway, there’s no time for this! Both of you need treatment immediately!”

“I am done. Look after the old man.”

“But…!”

"I know my body best. It’s already nearing its end."

The Master then said, “And,”

“I want to spend my last moments with my one and only disciple.”

“Child, can you give us some privacy?”

The Apothecary was both a pharmacist and a physician. She came close, pressing the Master's pulse firmly. She used a skill to diagnose the patient's condition. The Apothecary's expression darkened.

"...Do you want painkillers?"

“No, it’s fine.”

The Master smiled.

“The winter wind is pleasant. My chest feels refreshed. I want to feel this wind fully as I go to the afterlife.”

"......."

The Apothecary stood up. She bowed silently towards the Master. The silent Medicine King gestured for the group to leave. They soon carried the Head of the Martial Alliance back to the cave.

They respected our privacy.

“…Master.”

“Now then.”

The Master held my hand.

“How shall we pass the remaining two hours? Are you curious about my childhood? Would you like to hear how beautiful our cult’s sacred mountain is?”

“I have a request.”

I firmly held the Master's thin hand.

There's still time.

Her life hadn't reached perfection yet. For her to experience a truly satisfying ending, the ultimate moment, one more puzzle piece was needed.

“I have a request.”

“What is it?”

“Please engage in a duel with me.”

The Master's eyes widened.

“How unexpected. Your desire to surpass your master as a disciple is commendable, but as you can see, I can no longer move. Gong-Ja, what satisfaction would there be in defeating me when I cannot budge?”

“It does not have to be a duel fought by moving our bodies.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to face you in a Sword Theory duel.”

“Sword Theory.”

It was a duel fought with words rather than the body. One described which technique one would use and how one would attack. When the opponent described a response, the first fighter then explained how that response would be countered.

There was no need to move one’s limbs. No internal energy was required.

It was a battle waged solely through pure insight into martial arts.

A contest of martial learning.

“Well now.”

That was why Master smiled softly.

“Our disciple has grown quite proud. If we fought with our bodies, your victory would be certain, Gong-Ja, but in Sword Theory your defeat is assured. I may freely use techniques as though I had returned to my prime. How can you fight me when you have barely grasped a few strands of the Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven?”

“I...”

I began to speak.

“I don’t think the duel you had with the Head of the Martial Alliance was your best. You said you should have pierced his chest and grasped his heart. …Even if it's a verbal duel, I want the Master to achieve the most satisfying duel at the end.”

A duel without regrets.

The wish of every warrior.

“Can you show me that?”

“Yes."

“Hmm…”

The Master seemed amused by my proposal. Maybe she thought it was the naive desire of a young disciple. She didn't seem to expect that I could really give her that duel.

“Alright. But I won’t hold back in a verbal duel. I’ll let you strike first, but don't resent me if I end it in one move.”

“Yes."

“Once the duel ends, I’ll tell you stories of my past! Now, show this master the fruits of your training.”

The Master smiled gently.

A smile fragrant with peach blossoms.

I looked down at the Master's face, then slowly, at a man seated opposite me. A warrior who had reached the pinnacle in another world.

-Hmm.

Sword Emperor.

-So it’s finally my turn.

Another being who reached the peak of martial arts in another realm.

Though a ghost, unable to physically fight, he could participate in a verbal duel through my mouth.

‘Yes. Please fulfill the [promise] you made when you lost the bet.’