Chapter 447: Every Treasure Has a Sad Legend (8)

Qing made sure to double-check—just in case.

Some things needed to be absolutely clear.

“Uh, that’s not pig’s blood, is it? When you’re dressed like that and pointing a blade, I feel like I can suddenly understand why Butcher Ye ended up dead.”

The anecdote went that when Cao Cao visited, Butcher Ye had sharpened his knife to prepare a fine cut of meat for an honored guest. But upon seeing him, Cao Cao thought, This bastard’s trying to kill me! and struck first—slaughtering Butcher Ye, his entire family, and all his servants without leaving a single one alive.

It was a tale that laid bare Cao Cao’s true character, the very kind of viciousness that led the people of the Central Plains to spit on his name and call him Bandit Cao.

Strangely enough, though Central Plains folk reviled Bandit Cao as the vilest of villains, the far-off barbarians of the extreme east sometimes exalted him as a hero.

But why?

Cao Cao was born with the greatest golden spoon the Central Plains had to offer—wealth, connections, and armies inherited without a lick of effort. He had no grand cause, no higher purpose; he just wanted to try being Emperor once, living only for power.

And personally, he was a monster—civilian massacres, adulteries, betrayals that drove loyal ministers to ruin and death. These weren’t lapses; they were his lifelong amusements.

Therefore, any decent human being ought never to live like Cao Cao.

Which meant Qing’s careful check—making sure this man wasn’t an innocent—was the natural course of things.

But the man [N O V E L I G H T] shot the question back.

“Looks like pig’s blood to you? What, are your eyes just decoration?”

Qing’s eyebrow twitched.

There were always bastards like this.

If someone asks you straight, can’t you just say yes or no? Why answer like that?

Even if you were innocent, that kind of reply earned you at least two solid noggin-thumps for your lack of manners.

Alas. Perhaps the saying was true—that nukes always had to come in pairs.

“Could you answer properly? Is it human blood? If it is, then why in the world would you make such bold designs on your clothes out of it?”

The man faltered.

A commoner, faced with a drawn blade, should of course be trembling on his knees, begging for life.

But the two standing before him showed not a trace of fear. Even the little brat slung in the big woman’s basket was unafraid.

Why? Because they weren’t commoners.

Now that he looked closer, that stick wrapped with firewood—wasn’t just a stick. It was a weapon, hidden in plain sight.

The man subtly shifted his tone.

“I am Wu Gam of the Blood-Slashing Blade .Who are you?”

“Blood-Slashing Blade Wu Gam? Ever heard of him?”

“The one I know is a different Blood Blade.”

“He said Blood-Slashing Blade, not Blood Blade.”

“Hmph. Nicknames like that are always cheap knockoffs anyway. Just looking at him, he’s mid-first-rate? Still just a greenhorn.”

The man stiffened in shock.

To peg someone’s realm with just a glance—at least a Flower Realm expert was required.

“What? First-rate? Who the hell would give some first-rate runt such a grandiose nickname? Hell, who even bothers giving a nickname to a first-rate?”

From behind, there came the sound of someone choking down indignation.

“That’s how heretics are. They make up titles for themselves and spread the rumor.”

“Wait—so you gave yourself the nickname Blood-Slashing Blade?”

Wu Gam broke into a cold sweat.

“Th-the esteemed sirs...”

The opportunism of the heretics was something they shared with Qing herself—bully the weak, bow to the strong. At the first hint of real danger, Wu Gam’s long-lost manners came scrambling back through the door.

“Enough of that. So what’s with the blood? Lie if you want, but one walk through the village will tell the truth.”

“Well, that is...”

Wu Gam stalled, eyes darting nervously—then suddenly bellowed, “Brother!!!” before whirling and bolting.

“Ah, shit.”

Not the worst decision, but the wrong opponent to try fleeing from.

Exactly ten steps in, thwack!—a crushing impact slammed into his back, sending him tumbling rough across the dirt.

The beautiful arc of Qing’s Taekwondo side kick, covering three steps in a bound, had landed square.

Qing landed lightly, pointing her sword down at him.

The rough matting was cast aside, revealing the brutal, oversized greatsword beneath—Moonlight Sword No. 10.

“And why run away? I asked a simple question. Pig’s blood or human blood? Is it really that hard to say?”

“P-pig! Pig’s blood!”

“Mm. Then why run? A gentleman avoids the small paths, after all.”

A gentleman takes the great road—the true path of virtue.

Qing chirped smugly, scribbling another character into the air.

The sign of someone half-educated.

“W-well...”

“Choose your answer carefully. I’m holding a sword.”

“It’s, uh...”

Wu Gam hemmed and hawed, dodging.

That was when—

“What’s going on here!!”

A booming shout, a fierce aura rushing closer.

Qing braced her blade immediately.

Clang!!

Qi against qi, sparks flashing in the dim light.

Even Qing, with her inhuman strength, couldn’t overturn the laws of the world.

Tall for a woman, generously endowed above and below, but stripped of any excess fat—her weight was still insufficient. And lacking weight meant lacking gravity’s anchor.

Her feet skidded back, drawing two clean lines across the ground.

Even so, her eyes cut into the newcomer.

The last man’s clothes had been splattered with blood.

This one’s entire upper garment was dyed scarlet.

Was there even a need to check further?

Qing stamped the earth, veering back in.

The twilight starlight caught the blade’s arc, a great glowing line traced across the world.

A line extending horizontally, outside her guard.

The man’s expression froze.

Murder flared in his eyes; he drew his blade back, crimson qi coating the steel.

A blatant counterattack, forsaking defense.

Qing’s lips curled.

Come, then. Mutual destruction? Die together?

Fine—let’s die.

Her qi shone brighter, more radiant.

Both hands on the hilt now, she yanked it taut to her back—

Compressed muscle swelled, then burst, unleashing a cannon-shot arc of steel that carved a massive half-circle through the air.

The man scrambled, switching stances.

A thrust—an invitation. Back off, or we both die. A bluff. A test of nerve.

But bluff or not, the way it was going he’d stab once and then be cleaved in half.

So he was forced to block.

Daaang!!

With a thunderous crash, he was hurled backward, smashing through a house wall as rubble collapsed in a choking cloud of dust.

Through the cloud, Qing emerged.

The blood-soaked man’s eyes went wide.

He scrambled to stance—but Qing’s left hand swung like a meteor hammer.

Shhhhk! She flung a fistful of dust, grit and crushed stone scattering, slipping perfectly into his wide-open eyes.

Right into the sockets.

“Graaagh!”

Getting dirt in your eyes hurts.

Why? Because dirt is in your eyes.

Confused? Just try it yourself—you’ll understand instantly.

Blinded, the man howled—a mix of scream and battle cry—thrashing his saber wildly in every direction.

Not a bad attempt.

Qing just stood back, watching.

“Haaah... huff... where are you, you cowardly—!”

“How is there such a thing as cowardice in a fight? If you like, throw dirt too.”

The man forced his eyes open to glare at her.

But the twitching at the corners came from his body screaming: There’s dirt in here, idiot! Blink! Flush it out!

He ignored it, stubborn.

“Do you know who I am! I am Oh Sanchu, the Soaring Saber! My father is none other than Oh Daean, the Death-Reaping Saber! Are you ready to face the consequences?!”

“Death-Reaping Saber!”

Qing exclaimed in sudden delight.

Ah. So this was what it felt like—knowing the name, rather than just bluffing.

By now, Qing knew at least the truly infamous grand demonic lords.

After her reckless disciple burned down the Green Forest, her Master Seo Mun Surin had drilled her on which monsters to memorize, in case her antics drew fatal attention.

Death-Reaping Saber—yes, a Profound Realm grand demon.

But raising your child as a demon too?

Didn’t that mean you’d just thrown them away?

Or maybe you figured killing people as a demon was surprisingly fun, so you told your kid to try it too?

“Khh! Then now you know who you’ve crossed! Back away now and—”

“Wait! Do you know who I am?”

Oh Sanchu blinked.

“What, are you claiming a Profound Realm master as your backer—”

“Nope. But you don’t even know who I am, so how would your father know who his son’s enemy is? Do you know my face? My name? If you don’t kill me now, aren’t you just inviting trouble later?”

“Huh?”

“So if you die, what—your dad’s ‘demonic fatherly instinct’ will suddenly tingle, Ah! My son is dead! And somehow I know exactly who killed him!? That’s it?”

“That—my brothers outside—”

“Any of them Flower Realm? Outside you’ve got one Flower Realm master, plus maybe some first-rates—but why even bother mentioning first-rates? Can they beat a Flower Realm expert?”

Oh Sanchu’s eyelids twitched hard.

Tears streamed—physiological, sure, but perfectly timed.

“Y-you shameless bitch! Name yourself! Do you mean to hide even while we fight to the death?!”

“What are you, going to run tell Daddy?”

“That’s not it! It’s the basic courtesy of warriors!”

“Oh? You really want me to? Then I’d have to kill you down to the last man, wouldn’t I? You want me to bare both face and name?”

“W-wait! Give me time to think!”

The more she humored him, the more ridiculous he became.

Qing, exasperated yet curious to see where it went, played along.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Well, if you reveal yourself, there’s a chance I’ll flee. So I need to sort out whether to make you reveal yourself and then decide whether to beg forgiveness or call it off here.”

“What? Beg forgiveness for what? What did you—”

“Quiet! I’m thinking!”

The sheer gall.

Qing was left gaping, while Oh Sanchu muttered to himself, then finally nodded.

“Fine! Reveal yourself! Then give me your all and try to kill me!”

“Hah. And why should I?”

“What, are you scared now?”

...Scared? Here?

Qing almost admired the bizarre rhetoric—then nodded.

“No helping it, then. Just don’t faint when you see my face.”

She lifted her hand to remove the veil—

“Die!”

Oh Sanchu lunged, blade thrust forward.

And from Qing’s long, slender fingers burst a single streak of black light.

The Heavenly Demon Death Ray!

...No, the Heavenly Demon Blood Explosion!

The black line touched Oh Sanchu’s instep—pop! Flesh burst, blood spraying.

Heavenly Demon Divine Arts were far too advanced for a mere top-tier expert to fully wield.

Instead of blasting both bone and flesh, it merely blew open his flesh deep, leaving the bones intact.

So literally, his flesh and bones were separated—on his foot.

Oh Sanchu collapsed, rolling in agony.

“Aaaagh!”

“What, you think I’m an idiot? You were just stalling, waiting for the dirt to clear. Who wouldn’t know that?”

In underhanded tricks, Qing could stand against any grand demon alive.

She wasn’t the sort to fall for such a beginner’s delay tactic.

“I even pretended to be fooled for you—and then what, you yell ‘Die!’ before striking? Who the hell announces a sneak attack?”

“Kh-hh! You bitch! How dare you—”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

Qing leveled Moonlight Sword No. 10 at him—then suddenly chuckled, lowering it in favor of her left hand.

“Just now I used only my index finger. Next time, I’ll use all five. Think you can dodge five beams?”