chapter 22

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Cho Myeong-San's hand trembled slightly.

'What's with her?'

His gaze fixed on the young disciple who had stepped forward.

There was nothing special about her.

Nor could any tremendous qi be felt from her.

Even so, Cho Myeong-San couldn't take his eyes off this young disciple from the moment she stepped forward.

'Seriously? Is this feeling for real right now?'

A chill was running down his spine.

He had earned the name Yangtze Black Blade through countless fierce battles. In other words, Cho Myeong-San was not some greenhorn that developed his skills in comfort but someone that had grown through constant struggle.

So, he could tell just by looking at the opponent.

Was this just a woman with talent? Or was she an experienced warrior?

If it was just some kid with talent, then there was nothing to be afraid of. Cho Myeong-San had defeated many opponents stronger or more talented than himself.

A sword prepared to kill isn't afraid of talent.

But...

'What is up with this girl?'

His senses kept warning him.

Telling him that it was dangerous.

The child standing before him was a serious threat.

His muscle contracted tightly as his hand gripped his sword. He gulped, desperately trying to quench his dry throat.

Cho Myeong-San couldn't understand what he was feeling right now.

This person was clearly still a child fresh from his mother's milk. Although she was a disciple of Mount Hua, she shouldn't know the world's cruelties. It was only recently that Mount Hua restarted their outside activities and began to let its disciples venture into Kangho.

Yet Cho Myeong-San's senses were screaming at him that this disciple in front of him was an old monster who had fought countless battles. This child was the most dangerous enemy; if they met on the battlefield, then the only course of action would be to run away without looking back.

How could that even be possible?

Thick drops of sweat began to flow down Cho Myeong-San's forehead.

It made no sense.

But he already knew that Kangho was a place where things that exceed common sense occur incessantly. If the bones of those that died clinging onto their idyllic notion of common sense were collected, they could fill any lake one could imagine.

To survive in the martial world, it was better to trust one's own senses rather than a common sense that constantly gets forced to adapt.

"... Don't belittle that child."

It was a simple statement that Cho Myeong-San had struggled to bring up only after much deliberation. But not a single person there could understand.

Dae Ra-Geom smiled and looked at him.

"What are you talking about? Are you joking now?"

"Kukuku. It seems like there's something even Yangtze's Black Blade is afraid of. What are we going to do if you get cold feet after seeing one disciple?"

Mak Hwi openly laughed.

Cho Myeong-San didn't get angry despite their words and jokes. He didn't think they would understand what he felt. Even he wasn't fully convinced despite his senses trying to convey such an absurd warning, so how could they understand?

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