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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: There's Only One
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It all happened almost simultaneously.
The moment Li Chingwei answered the question.
A blade shot out from the darkness, aimed straight at Rimon's nape.
It was a perfect ambush.
The kind of swift, silent death stroke that could sever the breath of even a high-level player before they knew what hit them—no sound, no presence.
Clack.
"...!"
But right before it could slice through his neck.
The masked warrior in martial robes who had lunged from thin air, sword extended—Chao—froze in place.
His blade hovered perilously close to Rimon's throat.
Its tip was caught between two rigidly extended fingers.
"The Void Advance Sword Style... Not bad swordsmanship. It's one of the top techniques in the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts when it comes to ambushes."
Without even turning his head.
Without pulling back the sword pressed to Li Chingwei's neck.
Simply by reaching one hand behind him, Rimon had caught Chao's blade. He spoke in a languid voice.
"But that's only if the ambush actually lands."
An ambush only means something if it's undetected.
Against someone who already knows it's coming, no sword technique in the world matters.
So unless you have a surefire chance, it's far better to face them head-on than attempt a sloppy sneak attack.
Like he was instructing a deficient student.
Rimon pointed out Chao's mistake and concluded softly.
"If you want to use the Void Advance Sword Style for ambushes, go retrain that amateur stealth technique of yours first."
As if humiliated not just by the failed ambush but by the lecture on top of it.
Chao gritted his teeth and twisted his sword.
An attack aimed at the fingers gripping the blade.
No matter how iron-hard those fingers were, they couldn't avoid at least being sliced—even if not severed completely.
'What...!?'
But the moment he twisted the sword.
Chao could only panic.
The blade was still clamped between Rimon's fingers, unmoved.
It wasn't brute force holding it in place and following along.
If anything, the opposite.
Before Chao could even twist, Rimon's fingers had preemptively shifted to dodge the cut.
And that was just the beginning.
Whether he pushed, pulled, or swung the sword.
Rimon's fingers were already there, anticipating the blade's path.
Even though Chao was the one gripping the hilt, it felt like the sword danced to Rimon's will. Chao's hair stood on end at the eerie sensation.
'He's reading my sword path!'
As if he didn't even need to look.
Still fixing his gaze on Li Chingwei, Rimon parried and countered his blade.
A chill ran through Chao even as he hurriedly switched tactics amid the unbelievable situation.
Instead of clashing techniques, he channeled his psionic energy to its limit, pouring it into the sword.
Believing that even Rimon couldn't block his full power with just fingers.
"Chao."
But before he could infuse the blade.
Chao flinched and stiffened.
It wasn't just the overwhelming psionic energy flooding from somewhere.
A voice as cold as ice—familiar yet utterly alien—froze him solid.
"Who said you could point a sword at my lord husband?"
The girl who halted Chao with a single word.
Li Chingwei stared at him with eyes dark as night.
Ignoring the blade at her throat entirely, she raised her pale, slender jade fingers and gave a light flick.
The gesture was the pinnacle of elegance.
Graceful like a dance, yet languid as if it couldn't catch a single bug.
But the result was anything but elegant.
Boom! Crash, shatter!
Chao flew back as if struck by an invisible giant—smashing through a display case and embedding in the wall, vomiting blood.
It wasn't even at the level of being out of commission.
A life-threatening injury if he wasn't careful.
Yet Li Chingwei didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow at the sight.
"This time, you've overstepped not just the line, but your place entirely."
Whether he was an enemy of the Seven Dragon Society in the past.
Or holding a sword to her throat.
Rimon was the man betrothed to her, princess of the Black Dragon Clan.
Attacking him without her permission was an unforgivable overreach and act of presumption.
With her explanation, Li Chingwei issued a command.
"Chao, as of this moment, you're dismissed from your role as my guard. Withdraw and reflect until I summon you again."
"P-Princess..."
More shocked by the dismissal than being sent flying by her gesture.
Chao opened his mouth even as blood gushed out.
But Li Chingwei gave him no chance to plead.
She merely gazed at him with obsidian eyes and asked softly.
"Are you going to make me repeat myself twice?"
"...!"
Chao shuddered.
But it lasted only a moment.
Staggering to his feet, he sheathed his sword.
Then, clasping his fist in his palm, he spoke in a trembling voice.
"I... accept your command."
Sss...
Chao melted into the darkness like vanishing ink.
Forcing stealth even with his organs shaken and movement a struggle—was it his last shred of pride?
Or to avoid showing an uglier sight to his revered princess?
Li Chingwei didn't ponder the reason.
She simply turned to Rimon with an apologetic expression.
"Sorry for the trouble. Chao's so rigid, he doesn't know the meaning of flexibility."
Right after Chao had limped away in ruins, with a blade still at her own throat.
As if it were all just a mishap.
Or as if Rimon's sword wasn't even there.
Rimon stared at her in bewilderment for a moment—the same girl who had just coldly dismissed Chao with that frosty face, now wearing an embarrassed look.
Then he spoke awkwardly.
"Aren't you a bit too harsh on your own retainer? He looked pretty shocked."
The Seventy-Two Supreme Arts weren't some common martial art.
Only those rigorously vetted for talent, character, and loyalty could even learn them—the Seven Dragon Society's ultimate secrets.
Mastering them at a young age?
Top elite in the Society.
And if trusted as a guard, someone she could stake her life on.
Dismissing such talent on the spot?
Even Rimon—the target of the ambush—felt uneasy about it.
"Yeah, even I think I went a bit overboard."
She could have just scolded him verbally.
Resorting to force was overkill.
Li Chingwei nodded to herself, mumbling.
"Then why'd you do it?"
Rimon felt absurd at her frank admission.
Her answer was simple.
"Because if I didn't, the Sword Duke would've just cut Chao down, right?"
Better a bit of pain than death.
Plus, maybe this would fix his rigid personality—one stone, two birds.
Rimon scratched his cheek as Li Chingwei smiled sweetly.
"Well, yeah, fair enough."
It wasn't exaggeration.
The moment Chao had started channeling psionics.
Rimon had subtly adjusted his fingers on the blade.
To sever Chao's neck.
If Li Chingwei had been even a second slower, Chao's head would've rolled—no full power needed.
In that sense, sensing his killing intent was basic.
And punishing Chao first to make him withdraw? Excellent judgment, even by Rimon's standards.
If she'd held back just to look merciful, Rimon wouldn't have let it slide.
"By the way, Princess... Aren't you forgetting something?"
"What might that be?"
The sole flaw in her response.
The one thing Li Chingwei overlooked.
Rimon tapped the tip of his sword against her pale throat and said coldly.
"Saving your retainer is fine and all, but you're in the exact same spot—neck on the block."
When asked if she was the mastermind behind turning Lee Cheongi against him and framing Yuna Kyung.
Li Chingwei had calmly admitted it.
To Rimon, who had stormed the Blue House for blood and even clashed with the Infinite Monarch.
That alone gave him every reason to cut her down.
And with his blade already at her throat, Chao's ambush as her guard was only natural.
"Before you take my head, could I explain a few things?"
But Li Chingwei showed no fear.
She simply requested a chance to speak calmly.
"What explanation?"
"How we brought down the Sword Duke—and the method we used."
Rimon lost his composure for a moment.
Not some storybook villain.
Explaining the method to the very man they'd toppled?
And with a sword at her throat? Truly absurd.
"You think I'll listen?"
"Yes."
"...On what basis?"
"Because the Sword Duke came here for blood."
But at her response.
Rimon furrowed his brow.
"You said it yourself, Sword Duke—the key to claiming blood is never mistaking the target."
After stripping the Infinite Monarch bare to confirm, there's no way he'd deny her even a word of excuse.
She said it with utter conviction, beaming.
Rimon narrowed his eyes at her, then snapped.
"Spit it out, then."
His irritation plain.
But clear permission. Li Chingwei smiled faintly and began.
"As you know, Sword Duke, the Seven Dragon Society has long strived to uphold our founder's teachings."
The Society's purpose.
A faith and obsession passed down for centuries—to restore the paradise ruled by the seven dragons.
"But we failed every time, blocked by you. Regrettably, we lacked the power to surpass the Sword Duke."
The one who stopped them: Rimon.
An absolute being who never lost or compromised.
Bribes, beauties, persuasion, pressure, negotiation, hostages—nothing worked on the monster who neither aged nor died.
To the Society, Rimon's existence was a nightmare.
"Then, 32 years ago, when the constellations appeared, someone suggested: If we can't beat the Sword Duke, why not just... not fight him?"
"...What the hell does that mean?"
Don't win if you can't? Victory through defeat?
Rimon looked incredulous.
But instead of answering, Li Chingwei smiled and countered.
"Hasn't it ever struck you as odd, Sword Duke?"
"What?"
"Dungeons are massive stakes. International disputes over ownership wouldn't be surprising."
"What're you on about now—stating the obvious?"
"Yet has any dispute ever escalated to war?"
At that.
Rimon's face hardened instinctively.
In this Iron Age, dungeons were golden-egg-laying geese.
Infinite treasure troves determining a nation's player count and dungeon byproduct yields.
Worth starting wars over border dungeons.
But as Li Chingwei said, no dungeon-related war had ever broken out.
As Rimon fell silent, struck by the realization, she continued.
As if this were just the start.
"Players are prone to power trips, too."
"Surely among them, no ambitious king-builders or chaos-loving lunatics?"
Impossible.
Rimon knew from his PAB days.
How players who saw themselves as protagonists committed absurd acts as if natural.
"After you drove off the demons, the black mages abandoned vain ambitions and integrated."
"But do you really believe every black mage vanished? None tried flipping the world amid the era's changes?"
Equally absurd.
Black mages wielded forbidden magic.
Even integrated, they instinctively defied heaven and sowed chaos.
"Yet since the Iron Age dawned, not a single great war has ravaged the world."
People today might take it for granted.
The world grew prosperous, civilized—no wars, naturally.
But Rimon knew.
How "civilized" folk massacred "barbarians."
How leaders sparked wars for petty gains.
He'd seen it countless times.
How unnatural it truly was.
"You think it all coincidence?"
Seeing her quiet smile.
Rimon understood everything.
He had no choice but to.
"...Hey, wait a minute."
The implication in her words.
Why she was telling him this.
Rimon recoiled in shock.
"The way you toppled me... Don't tell me it was...!"
"Yes, exactly."
Li Chingwei smiled sweetly at Rimon's gaping, stunned face.
"To bring down the Sword Duke, we did only one thing."
We can't beat Rimon.
So don't fight him.
And the method was simple.
Deny any chance to fight at all.
The sole plot they'd pursued for 32 years.
The princess of the Seven Dragon Society—once called a demonic cult for sparing no massacre to upend the world—confessed it breezily.
"We mobilized every resource to maintain world peace."
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