Chapter 578
Kwaaaang!
The ground overturned under the massive surge of energy called [Mana], and the snow burst upward, forming a giant wall.
And as everything was blanketed in white—
Crackle.
A dazzling beam of light ripped through Song Cheonwoo’s sleeve.
The slender, sharp sword was a weapon modified for this very moment’s strike.
‘I’m sorry.’
With a brief, unheard apology, Song Cheonwoo moved like a flash.
Shhk.
Lowering his stance, one leg stretched out, the other bent, gripping his weapon tightly for a single, decisive blow.
After countless attempts, the perfected movement flowed seamlessly, and the sword wrapped in blinding aura pierced the space.
Shuaak!
A sharp sonic boom that cut through everything.
Though now well past seventy and retired from the front lines, no one could deny Song Cheonwoo’s strength.
The senses engraved in his body from surviving the Great Cataclysm, and the powerful [Mana] crouched within, defied his years.
No matter how talented, there was no way a youngster not even thirty could block this blow.
‘This is the end.’
Song Cheonwoo was sure.
At least until, in the next instant, the sword piercing through the wall of wind and snow was stopped by something.
Kagak!
A powerful rebound shot through the blade. Song Cheonwoo’s eyes widened just as a roar echoed.
Kwaaaang!
The collision of [Mana]s sent a shockwave tearing through the air.
The snow wall crumbled and snowflakes scattered everywhere.
And within it all, someone’s deeply sunken eyes stared back.
“So this was the trap Seok Gojun prepared.”
Seeing Choi Minwoo block his strike with the flat of his blade, Song Cheonwoo let out a suppressed sound.
“How did you…”
It was impossible. He remembered clearly—years ago, when Choi Minwoo, still in his early twenties, was at the European branch.
His natural talent was remarkable, but his skill had lagged far behind.
But now—
Rumble!
He could feel it through the strength transmitted along the blades.
The young man facing him now was no longer someone to be called inexperienced.
And now, his plan had hit a serious snag.
‘Blood never lies.’
Chun Taemin—just those two words weighed heavily in his mind, making the sword suddenly feel heavier. But it was too late to turn back.
Long ago, he’d crossed the river and sunk his own boat. He could not retreat if he wanted to protect his family from being captured by Seok Gojun.
‘I have to kill him here. No matter what.’
Gritting his teeth, Song Cheonwoo drew out powerful [Mana] through his aged but hardened body.
With a sweep of his wrist, the sharp blade slid across the flat of the opposing sword.
Kaak, shhk!
It was only by a hair’s breadth. The sword narrowly grazed Choi Minwoo’s neck and pierced the air.
Blood spurted from the sliced skin on his neck.
Someone watching the scene shouted in horror.
“Young master!”
A cry filled with sorrow, urgency, and anger.
Closing the hundreds of meters in an instant, he shook his sleeve, and the air grew fiercely hot.
Whoosh!
Flames of [Mana] erupted, blocking Song Cheonwoo’s path. The snow of the mountain melted and evaporated.
In that searing heat, Song Cheonwoo saw it.
Beyond Choi Minwoo, catching his breath, the old butler drew closer.
“So you’re here.”
Song Cheonwoo calmly gazed at Butler Kim.
A man who’d once been his sworn brother, one of the few he’d trusted on the battlefield.
But to both, it was a past long gone.
“I resented you, but I never hated you. But now…”
A fierce heat burst forth. Fire conjured in the air wrapped around Kim Hwajong’s hands, taking on a new form.
Song Cheonwoo gazed at the man, now gripping flaming whips in both hands, with a wistful look.
“Now you finally look like yourself. You really are the Kim Hwajong I knew.”
With fire whips in hand, Kim Hwajong stepped forward.
Step.
Calm eyes now burned with magma.
Through all the years, the old butler’s loyalty had never wavered. Now he’d returned to the vigor of his youth.
“Shut your mouth. You fucking bastard.”
In that moment, seeing Kim Hwajong’s unfamiliar demeanor, Choi Minwoo’s mouth fell open.
Shhk, crack!
Following the sword’s arc, the wall of fire between the three of them split.
And Choi Minwoo saw it.
Song Cheonwoo’s face looking at them calmly, and the pure white necklace now hanging around his neck.
‘That’s…’
And the name of that all-too-familiar necklace spilled from Song Cheonwoo’s lips.
“It’s the Yeti’s Necklace. When you told me to come here, I knew it would be useful.”
Song Cheonwoo turned his head. His gaze fell beyond the crevasse, where hundreds of yetis were pouring down with the avalanche.
“And it looks like I was right, wasn’t I?”
– Gyauuuu!
Watching the horde of yetis rushing toward them, Choi Minwoo felt his grip on his sword tighten unconsciously.
‘Yeti’s Necklace…’
Both he and Kim Hwajong knew exactly what that little necklace could do.
Just a few months ago, it was the magical item Won Myeonghun used to trap Jin Taekyung at the Black Wyvern’s nest.
‘A slave’s mark that draws in [Dragonkin] monsters.’
Even among monsters, there is a hierarchy.
The giants of the snowy mountains, the yeti, were the slaves and prey of the [Dragonkin]. But the Yeti’s Necklace did more than just lure in [Dragonkin].
This necklace was both a sign of their enslavement—and a token of kinship to other yetis.
“You…”
Choi Minwoo’s shout toward Song Cheonwoo never finished.
KWAANG! Tadadak!
An avalanche thundered, and hundreds of yetis surged over the crevasse.
Song Cheonwoo was closest, but with the scent of the necklace, to the yetis he was just another kin.
– KUAARRGH!
The savage howls shook the snowfield.
Song Cheonwoo glanced at the hundreds of shadows leaping past overhead and toward the other two.
“Hwajong. You’d better stay out of this.”
“You son of a bitch!”
Roaring in fury, Kim Hwajong lashed his fire whips.
Whoosh! Bang!
Fierce flames cut across and burned the area, but the [Mana]-empowered, hundreds-strong yeti horde pressed on, indifferent to their own falling kin.
If anything, their savage [Mana] flared even higher.
– KUAARRGH!
Outnumbered.
As Kim Hwajong gritted his teeth, Choi Minwoo’s calm voice reached his ear.
“It’s all right, Butler Kim.”
“Young master!”
“If the yetis are here, it makes things harder for me too.”
“But—!”
“Go. I’ll handle things here.”
Kim Hwajong hesitated as if to argue, then paused.
For a brief moment, the old butler met Choi Minwoo’s unwavering gaze, then silently kicked off the ground.
Swinging both flaming whips, he drew the hundreds of yetis away.
KWAANG!
– Kwuoo!
The horde and the heat receded, and at the same time, Song Cheonwoo took a step forward.
Crunch.
As he advanced through the snow, his hand blurred. The sword wrapped in radiant aura ripped through everything.
Shuaaak! Slice!
Aura is the true essence of [Mana’s] power.
Extremely sharp, destructive energy cleaved the space. Not wind, nor snow, nor stone could block it.
If there was a way to resist, it was only with another aura.
Shwish! Slice!
The relentless sword strikes slashed everything, splitting skin and drawing blood.
Narrowly dodging the slashing beams, Choi Minwoo’s eyes sank deep. He gripped his sword tighter.
[Hero’s Soul]. The sword of a noble hero, vibrating in his hand.
Snow-white aura resembling the mountain itself surged up around the blade as Choi Minwoo rotated his upper body, gripping the sword with both hands.
Shiiiiing.
Aura met aura. Light met light.
The two differently colored flashes collided.
RUMBLE!
With a huge shockwave, the snowy mountain shook. Snow within dozens of meters exploded and scattered.
And through the blinding white, faint shadows moved.
Shwish! Bang! KWAANG!
Two figures. Two swords. Each with their own aura, clashing across the space.
With every collision, massive shockwaves swept away the snow and shook the ground.
On the now-exposed green ground, drops of red fell.
Drip.
Choi Minwoo felt the hot blood running down his wrist. His shoulder ached, and cold sweat trickled down his brow.
But there was no time to stop for blood or sweat.
His opponent was still attacking with killing intent.
Shiiiing! Slice!
A razor-thin margin. The solid stone ground was sliced like tofu.
Barely dodging the attack, Choi Minwoo exhaled. The enemy’s bloodlust stung his entire body.
‘Song Cheonwoo.’
A hero born of the Great Cataclysm, once a top hunter alongside Lee Jeongryong—his skill was truly formidable.
It was one reason he’d survived despite knowing the forbidden truth.
Shiiing.
Choi Minwoo twisted his head as the raging wind tossed his hair. Had he been a little slower, it wouldn’t have been hair that got cut, but his neck.
But strangely enough, he felt no fear of death like he had in Sichuan.
A wry smile escaped him. He suddenly recalled a conversation with someone who wasn’t here.
‘This might sound crazy, but sometimes, when you think you’re about to die, you end up laughing.’
‘You’re really crazy.’
‘But… for some reason, whenever I laugh, I always win.’
He didn’t know why that memory surfaced now of all times.
But now, Choi Minwoo thought he understood at least a little.
‘I won’t die.’
It was faith in himself, a will only those who never give up could have.
It was a conviction he’d earned, walking toward thousands of monsters with an exhausted and wounded body.
Shiiing, slice!
A burning pain shot up from his thigh.
For a moment, staggering from the blow, Choi Minwoo saw Song Cheonwoo’s assault intensify.
Shwish! Slice!
Next was his arm.
Thud!
Then his side.
Yet Choi Minwoo pressed forward through the pain.
Clashing against the storm of sword strikes, he advanced step by step, the sword in his hand trembling.
[Hero’s Soul]. A sword passed down from a hero who fulfilled his duty even as a spirit.
A sword that bestowed even greater strength upon one worthy.
The blade trembled. Blinding radiance swelled the aura.
At the sight of that immense light, Song Cheonwoo’s eyes widened.
“You…?”
“For my last question.”
His voice was fiery, though his gaze was cold.
With a low voice and all his strength, Choi Minwoo struck.
“Did you forget whose blood flows through my veins?”
Shiiing!
A massive beam of light split the air.
And in that blinding flash, Song Cheonwoo felt a bolt pierce his chest.
Slice!