Chapter 110
Thud-!
KWAANG-!
At the thunderous explosions echoing from afar, the faces of those clad in black martial robes stiffened.
One of the elders, who had briefly glanced at the expressions of the disciples, spoke toward the man running at the very front.
“Sect Leader. It seems the disciples are greatly shaken.”
“Mm!”
It was only natural. To be honest, even he himself felt fear.
‘What an absurd wave of Qi!’
The battle still appeared to be in full swing. A powerful wave of Qi shook the trees. A fierce wind blew, making it difficult even to open one’s eyes.
Myeongjeong knew that in times like these, one must remain calm, and as the Sect Leader guiding the Secular Sect of the Mount Hua Sect, he resolved to fulfill his role.
“Do not be afraid.”
His voice, laden with internal energy, rang clearly in the ears of the disciples.
“We are of Mount Hua.”
Mount Hua.
Ordinarily, they would have engraved the name Mount Hua deeply in their hearts without a second thought.
But at this moment, to the disciples, the name Mount Hua felt heavier than ever before.
And with that weight, their sense of responsibility swelled all the more.
What was chivalry, and what was righteousness? Simply put, it was what an Orthodox Sect practitioner must uphold, and what those living in Mount Hua must carry out without fail.
Had he seen the change in the disciples’ eyes? Myeongjeong immediately continued.
“There may be those ahead who seek our aid. Do not be frightened. Simply show them all—enemy or ally alike—what kind of place Mount Hua is.”
Soon, the gloomy air turned into fighting spirit, and that fighting spirit sharpened into a chilling edge.
At this moment, they were not Taoists of Mount Hua. They were merely martial artists of Mount Hua.
Watching the disciples emit a razor-sharp killing intent unbefitting of Taoists, Myeongjeong nodded.
‘This is better.’
Rather than lose his disciples, it was far better to abandon being Taoists.
While moving at his side, he spoke to the woman who was trimming her nails even as she advanced.
“Myeonghye.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“Go ahead.”
At last able to dispel her boredom, Myeonghye smiled in satisfaction.
“Please don’t take too long.”
Boom-!
Leaving only those words behind, Myeonghye’s body transformed into a streak of light. In the blink of an eye, she surged far ahead. Watching her retreating figure, Myeongjeong let out a soft chuckle.
“She seems a little faster than before…? Well, I suppose that makes sense.”
Gazing at her back as though looking upon a proud younger sister, he murmured,
“For the Swift Severing Sword, this much would be basic.”
Jjeoong-!
It was not a sound that could possibly be made by mere weapons colliding. It was so immense that the ground itself trembled.
From the sound alone, an ordinary person’s brain would have suffered damage.
But Youngho instead wore a smile brimming with exhilaration. It was a sight utterly unhinged, as if he had been devoured by the madness of war.
Five.
He had taken down four Demonic Practitioners, yet five still remained.
Anyone else would have felt anxiety in such a desperate situation, but Youngho was different.
His mouth smiled, yet coldness dripped from his eyes.
If anything, his gaze had sunk into an even more chilling calm than at the beginning of the fight, tightening around the bodies and minds of the Demonic Practitioners.
Slash!
Meanwhile, wounds continued to accumulate on Youngho’s own body.
Gush!
From his pierced thigh, dark crimson blood began to pour out in heavy spurts.
Though he had pressed the acupoints to stanch the bleeding, the attack must have been deep, for his thigh continued to spit dark red blood.
If there was any fortune, it was that his internal injuries were not severe. Even as the Demonic Practitioners continuously poured Demonic Energy into his body, his Refined Internal Energy purified it the instant it entered.
Youngho bared his blood-stained teeth in a grin.
Had they realized that they could not kill him like this? One of the Demonic Practitioners spoke with a grim expression.
“We will use it.”
No objections came from the others. They too had realized it. The monster before them could not be defeated without ‘that.’
At that moment, the Demonic Practitioners poured red powder into their mouths.
“It is still a prototype, but we have no choice.”
At those words, Youngho sneered.
“I don’t know what kind of medicine it is, but seeing how you’ve been holding it back until now, it probably has side effects. Aren’t you worried? At least one of you should survive and report my martial might to the Demon Brain.”
One of the Demonic Practitioners let out a crazed chuckle.
“There is no way we could escape from a monster like you.”
“Why? I’m clearly injured like this.”
“Stop mocking us. In your current state, no one here can escape. And…”
The Demonic Practitioner smiled cruelly.
“That includes you.”
“I still have enough strength left to kill all of you, so don’t worry.”
“We may not be able to kill you, but we can at least leave you with aftereffects that will last a lifetime. So don’t worry.”
Youngho and the Demonic Practitioners laughed as though equally deranged.
Soon, they released their killing intent at the same time.
It was a terrifying killing intent. Yet the killing intent of the five Demonic Practitioners failed to reach even a single Junior Disciple.
Only the wave of Qi reverberated outward. No other sound could be heard.
Not the chirping of birds, nor the wind—nor even the sound of breathing.
In an instant, Youngho’s body vanished.
Boom-!
Only belatedly did the sound of the ground being crushed ring out. The Demonic Practitioners swung their respective weapons toward the faint blur of Youngho.
One, two.
He successfully evaded the attacks of two of them. But three strikes still remained.
There seemed no possible way to avoid them, yet Black Flames flared up along Youngho’s blade.
In that instant, obscuring the Demonic Practitioners’ vision, he slipped past the third attack.
And the remaining ones…
Saaak!
He severed the weapons. The only miscalculation was that he had offered his shoulder to take a strike while attempting to claim an opponent’s neck—and failed.
But that miscalculation returned with considerable consequence.
Though their bodies burned in Black Flames, two Demonic Practitioners seized Youngho.
One grabbed his waist, the other his arm and sword.
Youngho drove his knee fiercely into the chest of the one clutching his waist.
Thud-!
Gush!
It was a blow powerful enough to lift the man’s body into the air, yet the strength in the Demonic Practitioner’s grip only grew stronger.
From his mouth, he continuously spat out stagnant blood, yet he did not release his grip on the waist. The sight alone was enough to send chills down one’s spine.
‘Is this the effect of the medicine he took earlier?’
At the very least, it was clear that his strength had increased absurdly. But there was no time for admiration.
Swish!
With a fierce air-splitting sound, the second sword strike flew in. It was an attack so intense it seemed capable of erasing even allies from this world.
If he were struck by that, death was certain.
At that moment, an aura on an entirely different level from before erupted from Youngho’s body.
Thud-!
Suddenly, the body of the one clutching Youngho’s waist was sent flying past the Demonic Practitioners.
He flew so fast that, for an instant, they thought it was Sword Qi launched by Youngho.
But it was the corpse of their comrade, his chest caved in and lifeless. The Demonic Practitioners’ eyes widened in disbelief.
Crack-!
Without pause, Youngho twisted and snapped the neck of the one gripping his arm.
The hand clutching his wrist trembled before going limp.
Youngho’s blazing gaze, brimming with Ghostly Aura, shot toward the Demonic Practitioners.
Chill-!
Fear surged. Terror took hold. It was impossible to believe.
Never—not even once—had they imagined that they, of all people, would feel fear.
Even the Heavenly Demon had never been an object of fear to them. He had only been an object of reverence, the one they served.
With a bone-chilling smile, Youngho took one step, then another toward them.
At his leisurely advance, the Demonic Practitioners who still clung to life repeatedly swallowed dry saliva.
“…Invincible Divine Cult, Ten Thousand Demons Bow in Submission.”
Turning toward the voice reciting the incantation, they saw one Demonic Practitioner who had ultimately offered his final moments to the Heavenly Demon.
It was the one whose neck Youngho had snapped moments ago. Seeing that he was still alive, it seemed the neck had been twisted incorrectly.
‘This is troublesome.’
A fighting spirit flickered in the eyes of the surviving Demonic Practitioners. It stemmed from their faith in their god—and from their realization that Youngho was not in perfect condition.
The opponent was no ordinary Junior Disciple. He was a man acknowledged by the Heavenly Demon not for potential, but for his martial might.
And such a man had failed to kill an opponent by mistake?
It would be more believable to say that some passing dog had turned out to be a Spirit Creature.
Of course, the one with the broken neck would ultimately die—but he should not have died like that.
He should have died the moment Youngho snapped his neck.
Now that they faced him directly, they understood.
There were no mistakes with Youngho. And there was even less mercy.
As their fear slightly subsided, they began to notice it—the constant rise and fall of Youngho’s chest, his martial robes soaked in sweat, and even his footsteps, which no longer seemed light.
As their terror faded further, they reflected upon the aura he had unleashed moments ago.
Soon, the Demonic Practitioners reached a conclusion.
“It seems he overexerted himself just now.”
“Indeed. It was somewhat rushed, even for him.”
“Perhaps he is at a level we can kill after all.”
“Why not test it?”
A Demonic Practitioner’s brow twitched.
“Your tongue still lives. But…”
Swish!
Clang-!
When the Sword Qi he unleashed collided with Youngho’s blade, the aftermath caused Youngho’s body to sway greatly.
Youngho barely retreated a single step before smirking.
“Is that all?”
“No.”
That strike had merely been to confirm whether Youngho was truly unharmed.
No matter how fatigued he might be, he could easily block their Sword Qi.
They knew this because they had fought him. Yet Youngho had taken a step back from blocking a single Sword Qi.
Some might call it only a single step—but to the Demonic Practitioners here, his condition clearly seemed worse than before.
Even if this were a strategy to lure them into carelessness, it did not matter.
‘What is there beyond death?’
A life they had already assumed would end—staking it on even the slightest hope of survival was a thousand, ten thousand times better.
Swish!
Just as a Demonic Practitioner dashed toward Youngho, Hidden Weapons suddenly flew toward the back of his head.
With a slight tilt of his head, he evaded them and immediately lashed a kick backward.
Thud-!
“Guh!”
Black Shadow, who had approached to stab a Dagger into the Demonic Practitioner’s heart, was instead struck by the kick and spat blood.
Yet a faint smile curved Black Shadow’s lips. Though he had failed to drive the Dagger into the man’s heart, he had succeeded in embedding it into his leg.
“Ghk!”
A pained groan escaped the Demonic Practitioner’s mouth.
He pulled the Dagger from his leg and spoke.
“Now that I think about it, there was still an annoying one left. Now you too—”
He could not finish his words. In an instant, his body collapsed forward, face slamming into the ground.
‘What is this!’
Suddenly, all strength drained from his body and he fell. No—beyond falling, an extreme agony engulfed him, as though his entire body were being burned alive.
He swiftly examined his condition.
‘Poison?!’
It seemed the Dagger that had pierced his leg had been coated with poison.
Though he himself was rendered unable to move, struck down by poison, the situation had not entirely worsened.
It was evident that Youngho was not in good condition. The fact that the escorts who had remained hidden until now had stepped forward proved it.
Barely able to turn his head, the fallen Demonic Practitioner cast his gaze toward the other two, who would kill Youngho in his stead.
At that moment, a fragrant scent brushed past his nose. It was so rich it made his mind grow hazy.
A beautiful and utterly pristine plum blossom petal landed upon the neck of one Demonic Practitioner.
Slash.
At the same time, the Demonic Practitioner’s head was severed.
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