CLS-Chapter 503

Chapter 503:

Zhang-il’s body froze like a stone statue.

‘Brother?’

Did he just say brother?

Brother?

No.

That can’t be.

As far as Zhang-il knew, there was only one person in all the world that Wei Yan-ho called brother.

Wei San-ho.

Only him.

His close friend and Wei Yan-ho’s older brother.

The Demon-Slaying Sword Wei San-ho, the future master that all under heaven anticipated.

But…

“Brother… you said?”

That can’t be.

That person can’t be Wei San-ho.

Zhang-il’s face twisted grotesquely.

‘Damn it.’

He denied it. Denied it again and again.

He denied countless times the fact that the black-robed figure emitting that dark demonic energy could possibly be Wei San-ho.

But his eyes were accurate.

Once he thought of Wei San-ho, he became certain. He could tell without even seeing the face.

He was a martial artist.

Distinguishing people by their bone structure alone wasn’t difficult. Given the Beggar’s Sect’s nature of dealing with information, the ability to definitively identify people he’d only glimpsed was essential.

His eyes told him.

What that person’s identity was.

“No!”

Zhang-il shouted.

Wei San-ho, who had been captured by the Demon Cult, had returned. If that were the case, it might be something to rejoice about.

But Zhang-il cried out in despair.

Because it was too clear.

The demonic energy flowing from that person’s body, and who his current actions were for—it was all too clear.

“…San-ho?”

Wei Jeong-han’s voice trembled.

“San-ho… is that you, San-ho?”

The black-robed figure turned his head to look at Wei Jeong-han. Then he slowly raised his hand and removed the mask covering his face.

Swish.

Hair flowed down.

His neatly tied hair became disheveled and scattered.

‘Mok-woo.’

Wei Jeong-han couldn’t help but think of one man upon seeing that appearance.

The man who liked to wear black robes.

The man who always emanated an ominous aura.

And the man who was always lonely.

He understood now.

Why he had been continuously dreaming of Jeok Mok-u lately, and why those dreams had stopped like a lie as soon as Wei San-ho was captured.

They were alike.

Too alike.

Wei San-ho’s appearance had somehow come to perfectly resemble Jeok Mok-u. So much so that even Wei Jeong-han might mistake him if he didn’t look carefully.

“S-San-ho.”

“Father.”

Wei San-ho bowed his head slightly.

“Have you been well?”

“…Why are you doing this?”

Wei Jeong-han muttered as if his soul had left him.

“Why are you?”

Wei San-ho looked quietly at Wei Jeong-han with sunken eyes, then opened his mouth.

“Please understand that due to the circumstances, I cannot properly observe the courtesies.”

“…”

Wei Jeong-han could no longer continue speaking.

It was Wei San-ho.

That really was Wei San-ho. No different from before he was captured by the Demon Cult, just Wei San-ho.

That fact terrified Wei Jeong-han.

If that person was definitely Wei San-ho, then why was he emitting demonic energy? And why had he rescued the Heavenly Flow Sword?

And…

‘What is this distance?’

It was far. Too far.

The distance between where he stood and that rooftop felt unbearably far.

“Lord Wei! A barrier! Deploy a barrier!”

“…Ah!”

Wei Jeong-han jumped in surprise and looked around.

Zhuge Yeom was sweating cold beads as he deployed a barrier around them. To prevent the surrounding martial artists from hearing.

Whatever the circumstances might be, the fact that it would be bad for others to hear this was something even a three-year-old could understand. Wei Jeong-han spread a wide barrier.

The black-robed figure.

No, Wei San-ho watched that scene quietly, then turned his gaze to Wei Yan-ho.

Wei Yan-ho’s blazing eyes, and Wei San-ho’s coldly sunken eyes like ice.

Those two gazes met in the air.

“Why are you so angry?”

“What the hell are you doing? What’s with those black clothes?”

Wei San-ho, who had swept his robe behind him, smiled lightly.

“It’s not my taste, but they don’t have white martial robes over there. I had to wear something, didn’t I?”

“So you have the spirit to joke around.”

“Of course. I’m perfectly sane. Just to ease your concerns, I’m neither brainwashed nor am I doing this because I couldn’t withstand threats.”

“Then?”

Wei Yan-ho’s voice was close to a scream.

“Then you mean you’re standing there of your own will? You mean you’d fight even if it means drawing swords?”

“Of course.”

Wei Yan-ho took a deep breath.

Having drawn in a deep breath, Wei Yan-ho shouted until his throat felt like bursting.

“How can you say such things!”

Wei Yan-ho’s entire body trembled.

“What kind of words are those unless you’ve gone mad? You’d point your blade at us?”

“If necessary.”

Unlike Wei Yan-ho’s voice that seemed ready to explode, Wei San-ho’s voice was simply calm.

Neither cold nor sharp. It was even gentle, like someone soothing a whining younger brother.

“Why!”

Wei San-ho answered with a troubled expression.

“What should I say. This is quite a difficult problem. This place isn’t suitable for laying everything bare, is it?”

“Don’t speak to me like you’re soothing me! Damn it.”

“I’m sorry if it sounded that way.”

Wei Yan-ho couldn’t accept this situation at all.

It was Wei San-ho.

His older brother.

The brother who always looked at him with a gentle face. The brother who gave him blind faith more than their father, more than their mother.

In childhood, when he couldn’t even see their father’s face, Wei San-ho was the person who felt more like a father to him than anyone else. But now Wei San-ho was standing across from him, pointing his sword at him.

With genuine killing intent.

But how was he supposed to understand this situation?

“What on earth happened to you there?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Yes. I simply learned the truth.”

Wei San-ho’s voice remained gentle.

But Wei Yan-ho’s voice grew increasingly agitated.

“Truth? What kind of bullshit are you spouting!”

Wei Yan-ho’s emotions were pounding, but Wei San-ho hadn’t wavered even slightly from beginning to end. The fact that he was reunited with his parents and brother seemed to give him no emotional stirring whatsoever.

“Yan-ho.”

The way Wei San-ho called Wei Yan-ho hadn’t changed from before.

The warm voice of someone calling a thoughtless younger brother. The sense of discord that voice gave made Wei Yan-ho tremble.

“Truth is sometimes a frightening thing. The world I lived and breathed in gets twisted in an instant. Sometimes it’s better not to know.”

Wei San-ho shook his head.

“I simply saw the truth. And I learned what I must do. So don’t be so angry. Everything has just returned to its proper place.”

“Proper place? You call joining the Demon Cult the proper place? Are you seriously saying that right now?”

“You should know better than anyone whether I’m being serious or not.”

“Fine.”

Wei Yan-ho raised his sword.

“Whatever you’ve been put through, you’ve been put through it. If you can’t understand through words, I’ll beat sense back into you.”

Wei San-ho shook his head.

“Don’t do that. I don’t want to kill you.”

“…Kill? Me?”

It was an utterly ridiculous statement.

Who was Wei Yan-ho? Even after seeing him break the Heavenly Flow Sword, how could he say such things?

“If our paths diverge, if we must eventually face each other… the day will come when I kill you with my own hands. But not now. I still can’t kill you with my own hands yet. So today ends here.”

Wei Jeong-han shouted.

“San-ho, that sword is…”

“Yes.”

Wei San-ho lifted the sword at his waist.

“It’s father’s sword.”

“…”

Wei Jeong-han clenched his fists.

Father.

Until now, only he had been the rightful owner of that word. But now Wei San-ho was calling someone else father.

“San-ho.”

“No, father. You need not try to persuade me.”

Wei San-ho smiled bitterly.

“I still feel deeply grateful for the grace of raising me. I fully understand how great a risk father took to raise me, and how much pain you endured. I know that even if I were reborn a hundred times to repay you, I could never fully repay that grace.”

Wei San-ho bowed his head deeply once more.

“I will never forget the grace of taking in a cursed bloodline and raising me like your own son, even unto death. If I’m reborn in the next life, I will repay you. But in this life, it won’t be easy.”

Wei Jeong-han could tell.

Wei San-ho was perfectly sane right now. He wasn’t corrupted by demonic energy, nor was he controlled by the Demon Cult’s brainwashing. He was exactly as Wei San-ho had been when Wei Jeong-han last saw him.

Yet he had chosen that side.

By his own will.

By his own choice.

‘Why…’

Could fate not be defied?

He had devoted his entire life to giving Wei San-ho an ordinary life. But in the end, was he finding his own path like this?

This was too cruel.

“What do you intend to do!”

Wei Jeong-han shouted.

“Mok-woo is dead! Dead, I tell you! What would change by avenging a dead man! And the one who killed Mok-woo was!”

“I know.”

Wei San-ho’s cold voice cut off Wei Jeong-han’s words.

“I know that nothing will change, that the blade isn’t pointing at the right place, and that all of this is meaningless… I know it all. I know it better than you do, father.”

It was escalating.

Wei San-ho’s voice, which hadn’t wavered even slightly until now, began to rise.

“I know. I know, but even so, I cannot let it be. This world that has enjoyed peace by making my father into a demon while I lived on through my father’s sacrifice! This world full of hypocrisy!”

Black demonic energy flowed from Wei San-ho’s body like waves.

“…Damn it.”

A groan flowed from Cheok Su-gwang’s mouth.

That appearance was just like…

‘Great Demon Emperor.’

Yes, he remembered.

Cheok Su-gwang, who would charge at any Demon Cult member like a wild boar with its tail on fire, had once fled on all fours after just witnessing that existence from afar.

That overwhelming strength that broke even the will to oppose, and that presence.

It wasn’t perfect yet. But Wei San-ho’s current appearance was definitely overlapping with that of the Great Demon Emperor.

‘What on earth is happening?’

At that moment, Wei Yan-ho stepped forward.

“Done with your babbling?”

Wei Yan-ho’s sword, drawn once again, pointed at Wei San-ho.

“Yeah, keep talking. You’ll be able to talk even while lying in bed.”

“Yan-ho.”

Wei San-ho shook his head.

“It’s useless. I don’t want to hurt you. Not yet, anyway.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

At that moment, Wei Yan-ho leaped toward the rooftop where Wei San-ho stood.

“Because you won’t get hurt!”

Brilliant radiance poured from Wei Yan-ho’s sword in streams. Dazzling orbs of light that seemed like they would cover the world fell toward Wei San-ho like meteors.

The ultimate technique that even the Heavenly Flow Sword didn’t dare to face directly.

But Wei San-ho’s eyes receiving those light orbs were utterly calm.

“Pointless effort.”

Swish.

A pitch-black sword emerged from its sheath.

The sound of the sword being drawn sounded like someone’s scream.

Wei San-ho, who had drawn his sword, slowly swung it.

Then…

Kyaaaaaaaaaak!

With an ear-splitting shriek, black demonic energy whirled like a storm.

Light and darkness.

The sword energies unleashed by the two brothers intertwined in the air.