Chapter 793: Please Take Care of the Young Cult Leader |
The Demonic Buddha went beyond flustered and felt utterly dumbfounded.
It was shocking enough that he had entered the wall, but he himself had become a painting.
He had once heard that there was something called the Dark Painting Art, a dark sorcery that unfolded techniques through paintings. However, this was the first time he had ever experienced it directly.
The Demonic Buddha looked around. A white space with nothing in it, like a painter’s canvas. It was so completely white that even his sense of distance felt dulled.
And from here, the outside could be seen. Between the place he was in and the outside world, there was a transparent membrane, but no matter how he pressed it with his hand, it did not give way.
Ppeok.
He threw out a palm strike to break through and escape, but that power vanished straight into the transparent membrane. He could tell by the sensation alone. If he failed to find a method to break it, he would never be able to pierce this barrier by force.
Outside, he saw the Drunken Demon stabbing a man who had his eyes closed with a dagger.
But it did not work, and from within the wall, he saw the painting of the man opening his eyes and charging straight toward him.
After clashing with the bastard once, he completed the hand seal.
The Demonic Buddha was confident that he could finish the bastard with this single move.
At such close range, there was no way the sealing formation unleashed here could be avoided.
And then, the next moment!
The Demonic Buddha was startled. His body stopped. The formation he had unleashed also stopped in midair. Truly, at this moment, everything had become a painting.
At least one fortunate thing was that the opponent had stopped as well. As if he still had consciousness just like him, the man’s eyes looked this way, smiling.
Sseuk sseuk sseuk.
A pitch-black hole was drawn in front of his protective energy.
When the painting was completed, his energy disappeared into a passage of darkness.
And then, something even more astonishing unfolded.
That Killer Formation struck the Drunken Demon outside.
“No!”
The Drunken Demon failed to dodge in time and was swept up by the energy, flying far away and smashing into the wall.
The Demonic Buddha stared outside the painting with a shocked expression. In contrast, the Dark Painting Spirit was smiling mischievously, enjoying the situation.
Fortunately, he saw the Drunken Demon spring back up to his feet. It seemed he had been prepared, pushing his body protection technique to the extreme.
The eyes of the Demonic Buddha and the Drunken Demon met.
When the Drunken Demon nodded with an expression that said he was fine, the Demonic Buddha felt relieved.
‘This is bad.’
What if his own attacks were to fly toward the Drunken Demon?
If it came to this, he would not be able to use a major technique at the decisive moment. This battle was an extremely unfavorable one.
The Demonic Buddha decided to deal with him using ordinary attacks instead of employing the Golden Vajra Demonic Art.
‘He will be killed with sheer fundamentals!’
The Demonic Buddha overwhelmed him with pure skill. If it had not been a disadvantageous battle inside the painting, the bastard would have already collapsed as a corpse.
However, the bastard was not only capable of drawing dark passages that spat attacks into the outside world.
His way of fighting was exceedingly unique.
Saaak!
A black line was drawn, as if a brushstroke had been dragged across the air.
The Demonic Buddha twisted his body and evaded. What grazed past his body was black sword energy.
Saak, saaaak.
As though a painter were brushing orchids onto a canvas, the sword energy cleanly sliced across space.
As the Demonic Buddha retreated after evading the attack, prayer beads flew from his hand.
Swishswishswishswishswishswishswish!
It was a wide-ranging attack that had even anticipated where he would dodge.
Tok.
As if a single drop of ink had fallen between the two of them, a dot was stamped in midair, and then the ink began to spread outward from that point.
The flying prayer beads were all sucked into the ink.
The opponent was attacking through paintings. And above all, this entire space was his canvas.
‘On top of that, the Greed Annihilation Art is spread across this entire ship, so this fellow’s dark sorcery has become several times stronger!’
As it absorbed the intense greed of the gamblers, the aura of darkness was growing ever stronger.
At that moment, the Demonic Buddha felt a chilling sensation and looked upward.
At some point, red energy had become tangled into a strange shape, floating in midair.
Whiiiiing.
Bang!
The red energy slammed straight down.
Throwing himself aside to evade, the Demonic Buddha realized the true nature of that red energy. That energy was none other than a seal stamp pressed onto a painting.
Bang! Kwaaang!
The seal stamp fell repeatedly, and the Demonic Buddha unleashed splendid footwork to escape the attacks.
Because it was deployed through paintings, it looked playful yet grotesque, but if struck directly, it was a powerful attack that would inflict severe injuries.
While evading the opponent’s attacks, the Demonic Buddha surged forward just as he rushed right up to him and was about to tear out his throat.
Once again, the Demonic Buddha froze like a painting. The opponent also stopped and looked at the Demonic Buddha, smiling.
Sseuk sseuk sseuk.
As the painting was drawn, an enormous gale suddenly swept in, blowing the Demonic Buddha away.
Whiiiiing.
Once again, the distance between him and the bastard widened.
“Damn it!”
This fight was more troublesome than any battle he had fought until now.
“I heard rumors that the Eight Demon Supremes were incredible, but you’re nothing special?”
At the Dark Painting Spirit’s mockery, the Demonic Buddha responded calmly.
“I’ve never been interested in paintings. Had I known it would be like this, I would have painted instead of sculpting.”
Though it was a situation that could easily make one anxious, the Demonic Buddha remained relaxed. Losing his composure at times like this was how one truly lost.
“Demonic Buddha, you will remain with me forever.”
With incomprehensible words, the Dark Painting Spirit took several scrolls out of his bosom.
As he unfurled one of them, the figure of a martial artist appeared, drawn only in ink, with neither facial color nor clothing color filled in.
The expression on his face as he stretched out his hand was smeared with rage and despair.
Even without prior knowledge, it wasn’t hard to guess that this was the man’s the final moments just before death.
The martial artist contained in another scroll was similar yet different. This time, the image vividly depicted him begging for mercy.
The Dark Painting Spirit took out a third scroll. It was empty, but its border alone was more splendid than the others—a golden scroll.
“You will be specially placed here, Demonic Buddha.”
“I’ll leave that to you, make sure to draw me even more handsome than now.”
As the Demonic Buddha continued to act at ease, the Dark Painting Spirit sneered.
“You’re trusting that drunkard over there, aren’t you?”
The Dark Painting Spirit looked at the Drunken Demon outside the painting. The Demonic Buddha also turned his gaze there.
Beyond the transparent membrane, the figure of the Drunken Demon could be seen. He was smashing the boxes that had been there, as if searching for a method to break the technique.
Judging by the Dark Painting Spirit’s relaxed expression, the method to break it was not there.
“Aren’t you curious what the method to break it is?”
Looking at the Drunken Demon, the Demonic Buddha replied.
“That man will find it. He’s smarter than he looks.”
Before resuming the fight, the Demonic Buddha asked, as if something had been bothering him.
“Then why did you choose me instead of him?”
He had seemed relaxed enough to answer anything, but that question alone went unanswered.
“You’ll hear all about it inside this scroll later.”
---
“There is definitely a method to break it.”
The Drunken Demon smashed every box that had been there. He had wondered if there might be a clue inside that could break it.
There was nothing inside.
The Drunken Demon knew this. The more flashy and powerful a dark sorcery was, the simpler and closer its weakness tended to be.
‘Think! You drunkard, use your head!’
But no matter how he looked around, there was nothing that seemed like a method to break it.
This time, he ran over and placed his hand against the wall. He examined what was inside and even tried injecting his internal energy.
However, there was nothing strange about this wall that served as the stage of the battle.
The Drunken Demon looked at the Demonic Buddha fighting on the opposite wall.
Even at this moment, the Demonic Buddha was dodging incoming palm force when he was caught in a situation where his entire body was being constricted by thorny vines.
The moment he saw that, the Drunken Demon’s heart dropped.
It was not because the Demonic Buddha had been forced to take a palm strike due to the thorny vines.
The color of his body had become paler than before. Not only had the golden radiance lost its luster, but even the color of his clothes was gradually fading.
By the feel of it, if he were to lose all his color, he would die.
‘As time goes on, he’s really becoming a painting.’
The Drunken Demon grew anxious. He leaped up to the ceiling and examined it. He hoped there might be something hidden there, but there was nothing unusual about the ceiling either.
In the end, the Drunken Demon carried out something he had been wavering over.
Bang.
Having found no other method, the Drunken Demon smashed a portion of the wall.
At the very moment a hole opened in the wall.
The ground beneath where the Demonic Buddha stood shook as if struck by an earthquake, and his footing wobbled. From overhead, massive boulders poured down. As the Demonic Buddha threw his body aside to avoid them, blazing fireballs rained down.
Seeing the Demonic Buddha barely escape, the Drunken Demon let out a breath he had been holding.
It confirmed that forcibly breaking the wall was not the answer.
The Demonic Buddha did not give up and continued fighting.
Yet whenever an attack was about to properly land, everything froze, turning into a painting.
A wall rose up in front of the Demonic Buddha’s fist, and steel spikes were embedded into that wall. Those spikes were drawn sharply, pointed right before his fist.
The Drunken Demon rushed over and shouted at the Dark Painting Spirit, who was frozen together with him.
“You cowardly bastard! Cut it out already!”
The Drunken Demon raised his fist high. He intended to blow away the entire portion where the bastard was drawn.
But he could not bring himself to do it.
Even just punching a hole in a distant wall had caused such chaos; he felt that the moment he struck this bastard, everything would come to an end.
‘It’s a trap.’
If he did that, the Demonic Buddha might never be able to escape.
When the drawing was finished, the two began to move again.
Unable to stop the momentum of his charge, the Demonic Buddha’s fist shattered the steel spikes and smashed through the wall behind them. It was a blow imbued with inner power, yet his skin split and blood flowed down.
The other man, too, must have been consuming an enormous amount of inner power each time he drew a painting. Yet how was he enduring this?
‘The Greed Annihilation Art is sustaining him.’
In the meantime, the color drained completely from the Demonic Buddha’s legs, turning them into an inky black.
At that point, the Demonic Buddha could no longer move.
The Drunken Demon ran to stand before him. The Drunken Demon’s resentment and fury seemed to transmit even through the membrane.
In contrast, the Demonic Buddha spoke something with calm eyes.
The sound could not be heard, but the Drunken Demon could understand. Just from his expression, he knew what he was saying.
“Leave this place.”
And then, the added words.
“Please take care of the Young Cult Leader.”
The Demonic Buddha’s expression looked serene, like that of an enlightened high monk. Since meeting the Demonic Buddha, had he ever seen such a peaceful face?
The Demonic Buddha brought his palms together in prayer, his final demeanor, meant to end with that tranquil gesture.
‘Great Young Master, I’m sorry I couldn’t serve you to the very end.’
The Drunken Demon had never felt such overwhelming despair before.
He had truly never imagined that he would lose the Demonic Buddha like this.
And at this moment, the Drunken Demon thought of one person.
‘I’m sorry, Geom Mugeuk.’
How wonderful it would have been if Geom Mugeuk were here?
If it were Mugeuk, he would definitely have found the method to break it. And after smashing that bastard to pieces, he would have said this: even if I drew it with my feet, I’d draw better than you.
‘Why was it Demonic Buddha instead of me? If it had to be someone, why couldn’t it have been me!’
The next instant, the Drunken Demon flinched.
‘That’s right. Why was it Demonic Buddha? I was the one cursing at the painting too.’
The very next moment!
A single thought struck the Drunken Demon’s mind like a bolt of lightning!
‘Could it be…?’
The Drunken Demon pounded on the wall and shouted.
“Launch one last attack! With the strongest attack Demonic Buddha possesses!”
Knowing the words would not be heard, the Drunken Demon stood before the Demonic Buddha and mimed forming a hand seal.
The Demonic Buddha’s eyes widened in shock.
Attack?
The Drunken Demon raised his palm high and mimed slamming it down onto the ground.
The Demonic Buddha understood which technique he was being told to use.
‘But that move will fall upon you?’
The Drunken Demon looked at him and nodded.
‘Trust me and do it.’
What was contained in the Demonic Buddha’s gaze was not a desperate thrashing before death.
His lower body could no longer move, and the inky black color was gradually spreading toward his upper body.
There was now only one chance.
The hands that had been joined in prayer came apart, and the Demonic Buddha began forming hand seals with both hands. He drew up every last bit of his inner power and unleashed a single move.
Golden Vajra Demonic Art
Demon-Palm Annihilation Seal!
The most powerful strike of the Golden Vajra Demonic Art.
The Dark Painting Spirit wore an expression that said, go ahead and try.
Huuuuuuuuung!
The palm of a colossal Buddha statue emitted golden radiance as it smashed down toward the Dark Painting Spirit.
The next moment, that massive palm stopped above the Dark Painting Spirit’s head.
Sseuk sseuk sseuk.
In that brief interval, a dark passage began to be drawn once more.
The Dark Painting Spirit had been smiling brightly even before his movements froze, after all the Drunken Demon would never be able to withstand this powerful technique, then why?
It was at that very moment that he noticed the Drunken Demon gulping down liquor in great swigs.
Then he spewed it toward the pitch-black hole being drawn between the palm and the head.
Chwaaaaaaak.
It was not ordinary liquor. It was powerful Liquor Qi imbued with the Drunken Demon’s internal energy.
“There’s nothing better than liquor for wiping away a painting!”
“!”
The Liquor Qi soaked fully into the drawing, and as the Drunken Demon dashed left and right, he wiped it away with his sleeves, the pitch-black hole was wiped clean.
Shock filled the Dark Painting Spirit’s eyes.
‘No!’
Then,
The world inside the painting began to move again.
The gigantic palm, now freed, slammed down the Dark Painting Spirit.
Gaaahhh!
Crushed by the Demon-Palm Annihilation Seal, the Dark Painting Spirit tried to endure with all his might, but it was no different than a bug standing against a carriage wheel.
Kkwadeudeudeudeuk.
His body was shattered to pieces by the gigantic palm-shaped energy.
“Uaaaaaaargh!”
Kuuuuung!
After a moment, when the Demon-Palm Annihilation Seal disappeared; its traces remained in the shape of an enormous palm print.
Only smudged stains of colors, flattened and spread out in every direction, was left.
The next moment.
Sssssss.
The lower half of the Demonic Buddha’s body, which had turned inky black, began to return to its original color.
He completely regained his color, seeming to change from a coloring him back to a breathing human,
Puah!
The wall spat the Demonic Buddha out.
When the Demonic Buddha emerged safely from the wall, tension drained from the Drunken Demon, and he collapsed heavily onto the ground.
“Haa.”
The Demonic Buddha also let out a breath and sat down beside him.
For a while, neither of them said anything. They did not say “you worked hard,” nor did they say “thank you.” They could see each other’s hearts without words.
The Demonic Buddha’s resolve when he had told him to go on ahead.
And the Drunken Demon’s resolve to remain behind to protect the Demonic Buddha to the very end.
The Drunken Demon handed over the liquor bottle he had been carrying at his waist.
The Demonic Buddha took it, looked down at it for a moment, then returned it to him.
“Save this precious liquor and drink it yourself.”
Only now did the Demonic Buddha understand clearly.
Why he had been chosen instead of the Drunken Demon.
The method to break this brutal Dark Painting Art was astonishingly simple. It was water.
Realizing that the opponent was a painting and that it had to be erased was itself the method to break it. Even a single drop of water touching the caster’s body would have broken this dark sorcery. Without water, one would have had to use one’s own blood.
The Drunken Demon had liquor, and above all, the Liquor Qi that protected him was ultimately composed of liquid.
From the beginning, the bastard could not even fight the Drunken Demon. In terms of compatibility, he was far too weak against him. After killing the Demonic Buddha, he likely would not have dared face the Drunken Demon at all.
After circulating their energy to recover their inner power, the two opened the door at the end of that space.
Beyond the door, even deeper darkness awaited them. The Demonic Buddha revealed his golden radiance and stepped in first.
“When we get back, I’ll treat you to a drink of good liquor.”
Following after him, the Drunken Demon said with a smile.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
It would be the first drink he would ever receive from the Demonic Buddha.
