The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 37

Pawol flared up and shouted.

“How dare you, after betraying the Cult Master's grace! Don’t you dare insult him!”

The Twelve Moons were those who had entrusted even their lives to the Blood Demon.

They lived only for the Blood Demon, and died only for the Blood Demon—so their very existence was practically defined by him.

Perhaps that’s why the Twelve Moons could not bear any insult to the Blood Demon.

“Do you not realize that the only reason you're still alive is because of his mercy?!”

“Mercy, huh.”

Seolhwa let out a short laugh.

“Do you even know what that word means?”

“Hmph...! It means he pities you!”

“You actually answered. I was just being rhetorical. As expected, nothing beats a well-trained dog.”

“Y-You bitch!”

Pawol's killing intent grew heavier.

The composure he’d shown just moments ago had completely vanished, replaced solely by fury.

Seolhwa tilted her head slightly.

“But why did he send you, I wonder?”

“What do you mean?!”

“You’re not strong enough to challenge me to a death duel. It’s not like he sent you to die.”

Or... did he?

Pawol had disliked her ever since their days at the Huaoru Pavilion. He would glare at her with murderous intent whenever they crossed paths—it had been impossible not to notice.

‘The Blood Demon must’ve known that.’

The Blood Demon never stopped infighting among his subordinates. No—he encouraged it.

If they fought, killed, and were killed, the strongest would naturally rise to the top, and those survivors would be granted power and authority, becoming paragons for the rest.

“Fight and survive! And the world shall be yours!”

And so, in the darkness hidden behind the glamour of the Huaoru Pavilion, bloodshed was a daily occurrence.

Pawol was one of those who had openly displayed his hatred toward her in that brutal environment.

His jealousy and hatred had stemmed from the Blood Demon’s favoritism.

‘He must’ve resented being treated differently, despite being picked up off the streets just like me.’

Unlike her, who had received personal guidance and shared inner energy directly from the Blood Demon, Pawol had been left to grow on his own under the man's indifference.

He had clawed his way up to become one of the Twelve Moons by his own strength and had even inherited a blood technique—but that was all. The Blood Demon still paid him no mind.

‘So that’s why he sent Pawol.’

Because Pawol would take this opportunity to challenge her to a death match, no matter what.

And death was the Blood Demon’s greatest pleasure.

He was a man who fed on blood and death.

‘In the end, I’m just being used. Part of the Blood Demon’s amusement.’

With a brief sigh, Seolhwa stared at Pawol.

She didn’t like playing along with the Blood Demon’s twisted games either, but judging from the hate-filled glare in Pawol’s eyes, this fight was unavoidable.

“No matter what, shouldn’t you pick your opponent more wisely? If you value your life, that is.”

“Don’t act so smug!”

Pawol’s dagger let out a low hum as it gleamed with a dark crimson glow.

“Do you think I don’t know you’ve discarded all the inner energy bestowed by the Cult Master?! You’re already as good as dead!”

“And how would you know that?”

A chilling smile spread across Pawol’s lips once again.

“I also know you’re still being controlled by mental suggestion! No matter how much you struggle, you’ll never escape the Cult Master’s grasp.”

Seolhwa’s expression turned cold and rigid.

‘So he knows about the suggestion curse.’

“It was so fun to watch, you know? Seeing you thrash about like a wild colt, unable to control your own body!”

Pawol chuckled, already intoxicated by the thrill of victory.

Seolhwa gripped her sword more tightly, her face stiff.

Now that she had confirmed that the Twelve Moons knew about the Mental Suggestion Curse, there was no need to delay any longer.

“How long are you going to run your mouth? Stop babbling and come at me, Pawol.”

She stared at him, her eyes devoid of any emotion, even as his killing intent surged.

“You....”

That vacant gaze enraged Pawol further.

“Enough with your arrogance! It ends now!”

Shhhhk—!

Pawol’s dagger shot toward Seolhwa.

The martial art the Blood Demon had passed down to the Twelve Moons was dagger-based.

It was a blood technique known as the Soul-Shattering Severing Dagger, named for how it shattered the soul before cutting it clean apart.

This technique was feared for its speed and unpredictably shifting blade paths.

Clang! Kang!

But Seolhwa, who had faced the daggers of many Twelve Moons in her past life, found Pawol’s attacks far from threatening.

In fact, this version of Pawol was the weakest among them all.

She didn’t even need to draw on her inner energy.

Seolhwa met Pawol’s dagger by subtly redirecting the flat of her blade, shifting the angle of each strike to throw off his rhythm.

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Dozens of exchanges happened in an instant.

Clang! Clang! Kang!

‘What the hell...!’

Pawol was shaken.

He couldn’t comprehend how she was deflecting all his attacks without using ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) any inner energy.

She wasn’t even blocking him head-on.

Each time his dagger swung, she would twist her blade just enough to glance it away, dissipating his power and making it harder to continue the flow of his strikes.

“What are you hiding that you’re trying to stall for time? Pull out another one.”

“...!”

In the midst of their relentless exchange, her voice rang out, impossibly calm.

Pawol’s expression, in stark contrast, grew more twisted than ever.

He drew another dagger from his waist.

The Soul-Shattering Severing Dagger technique had always been a twin-dagger art.

Only drawing one earlier had been both a display of confidence—and a tactic to conceal his hand.

But Seolhwa had no intention of dragging this out.

“If death is your wish, I’ll be happy to grant it.”

In an instant, his energy burst forth, and the twin daggers lunged with such speed they became hard to follow with the naked eye.

Dark crimson energy shimmered around the blades.

“Die!”

The true nature of the Soul-Shattering Severing Dagger revealed itself when one drew upon Blood Energy.

The technique itself was nothing more than a frenzy of wildly swinging twin blades meant to overwhelm the opponent’s senses.

The danger lay in the fact that each strike carried Blood Energy.

Even the smallest cut from those daggers would be laced with it.

Wounds tainted with Blood Energy didn’t clot easily—and they refused to heal.

While the daggers weren’t suited to deep, fatal stabs, it was all too easy to inflict fast, shallow cuts.

The Soul-Shattering Severing Dagger was a blood art designed to accumulate small wounds until it gradually drained the opponent’s life away.

Seolhwa stared at the flurry of blade strikes raining down like a storm, then gripped her sword.

Her gaze sank into an icy calm.

“...!”

Pawol’s face contorted with confusion the moment he saw her stance.

She’s stepping into it?

Into the heart of this blinding barrage of attacks?

Was she insane?

Someone like Lord Sorou should know exactly what the Soul-Shattering Severing Dagger was capable of!

Taaah—!

As expected, Seolhwa charged straight at him.

Even though she was a small girl, the force of her sprint resembled the charge of a raging bull.

Startled, Pawol instinctively faltered, then clenched his teeth.

“Fine then, I’ll kill you!”

Clangclaclaclang! Clang! Claclaclang!

A ferocious clash erupted in an instant.

There was no such thing as defense—it was attack against attack, strike for strike.

Every time their weapons met, sparks flew.

Pale flashes of steel collided with crimson streaks, sword trails clashing and blurring nonstop.

In terms of pure speed, Pawol clearly had the upper hand.

But Seolhwa made no attempt to block every attack—she ignored the shallow wounds slicing across her body and kept swinging her sword.

“You damned monster...!”

He was sure he had landed several deep cuts—yet not once did her body so much as flinch.

How was that possible?

Was this what it took to gain the Lord's favor?

As steel clashed upon steel, as blow met blow, a strange shift began—the pale hue of her sword strikes gradually took on a reddish glow.

“...!”

Seolhwa frowned as she noticed her aura changing color.

Pawol saw it too—the tinge of red beginning to dye her energy. And at that exact moment—

Shhhk—Thwuck!

“Grahhh!”

Seolhwa’s blade found its opening and drove into Pawol’s left shoulder.

Tatak!

He clutched his shoulder and quickly leapt back.

He jabbed at his pressure points to stop the bleeding, but his left hand—still gripping a dagger—was now useless.

“You crazy bitch....”

Pawol glared at Seolhwa with venomous rage.

Clenching his teeth against the pain, he stared at the devil standing before him.

The energy swirling around her had also turned blood-red without him realizing it.

“Hah... Haha...!”

Pawol burst out laughing like a madman. Even as blood streamed from his injured arm, the sound was pure delirium.

“So you crawled into the Namgoong Clan just to play the part of a righteous girl, huh?!”

Still clutching his wounded arm, Pawol suddenly raised his head.

His eyes flashed as he stared at Seolhwa.

“Is all you’ve gained... nothing but a blood-red sky?”

Seolhwa stopped in her tracks.