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Inevitably, the Demonic Heaven Arts were demonic arts.
Clang!
Murim Alliance Leader Namgung Woon had mocked us, calling us flower sellers. Teacher hadn’t refuted him. Now, the Viper, claiming to be the heir of the Righteous Faction, mocked me the same way, but I didn’t refute him either.
It was fine. I just laughed.
Clang!
Those who blindly swung their swords were merely beginners who had just started walking down their respective paths. Those who practiced their swordsmanship to learn more were intermediates, while those who knowingly used their swords were experts. We all knew this.
Clang!
Despite the hardships of daily life, many people carried yesterday’s pain and today’s fatigue day after day, still managing to find small moments of happiness amid their struggles. We all knew this.
Clang!
They sometimes said that they wanted to die, but their desire to die hadn’t yet led them to carry out that wish. Though they would cry out in pain, their voices hadn’t reached the point of screaming yet. Their moments of happiness lasted only an hour, half a day, or a day. Still, many people lived such lives. We all knew this.
Clang!
The Demonic Heaven couldn’t embrace those brief moments of joy, those small, beautiful flowers. It was too busy to embrace the people of the red dust[1] despite the wish to love, comfort, and kiss them.
Clang!
There were still too many people who screamed.
Clang!
There were still...
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