Chapter 1747
You can think of this as me blowing off some steam. (2)
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Crunch!
A chilling white light pierced the neck of a blood cultist who couldn’t escape in time.
It was the Dark Plum Sword.
This sword, which had claimed countless lives of martial artists of the Evil Path and was considered a cursed weapon by Sapaeryeon, had once again taken another life at the hands of Hwasan Geomhyeop.
“Guh…”
Even with his neck pierced, the cultist’s body convulsed violently, refusing to die instantly.
It was a horrifying sight, but Chung Myung’s eyes remained eerily indifferent, as cold as ice.
“One.”
Swish!
As the sword was pulled out from the neck, blood spurted out into the air like an arrow.
As if that were the signal, the blood cultists all turned their backs and began to flee in panic. No orders were needed. Anyone with the slightest bit of sense knew what had to be done.
“Retreat! Retreat!”
Crack!
With a harsh sound, the spine of a fleeing cultist was severed. The Dark Plum Sword had struck once more.
“Ugh!”
A suffocating groan escaped the cultist’s lips as his breath was cut off.
Another chilling sound rang out, followed by silence – no more groans, no more cries.
Those fleeing at the front could only imagine what had happened. They didn’t need to look back to know that the spine had been severed, followed by the neck.
‘Why?!’
The only thought in the mind of the blood cultist leading the retreat was that single, desperate question.
‘Why is Maehwa Geomgwi here?!’
This was the lower region of Mount Wudang, far from Wudang Sect’s headquarters at the summit. It wasn’t a place where a big shot like Hwasan Geomhyeop should suddenly appear.
So why was that monster here?
Slash!
“Aaaaah!”
“Two.”
The chaos in his mind turned to a blank slate.
He could faintly hear the sound of the sword slicing through another body. Not just once, but twice. This meant that the sword had swept through the air, severing both legs in one strike.
But the terrifying sound didn’t end there. A sharp blade pierced through the back of the fallen cultist’s neck, a sound that drilled into the ears of those still running.
‘S-Save me…’
The confusion had vanished entirely. Now, his mind was consumed by a single instinct: the desire to survive.
In an instant, his entire body was drenched in cold sweat.
Whether it was from sheer terror or an unnatural burst of strength that he’d never before experienced, the blood cultist couldn’t tell.
But despite running with all his might, his body grew colder with each passing moment.
Slash!
“Three.”
Crunch!
“Four.”
The emotionless voice wasn’t fading into the distance. Rather it was getting closer.
The sound of the sword cutting through bodies, the agonizing groans, and the calm counting of numbers – every detail was terrifying. Even those who prided themselves on being desensitized to horror found themselves trembling in fear.
“Aaaah!”
“Seven.”
The moment he heard the word ‘seven,’ the blood cultist’s hair stood on end.
‘How many of us were there?’
He tried to recall how many had come here…
Crunch!
But he didn’t need to find the answer himself.
“…Guh.”
A bloodstained white sword burst through his lower abdomen, revealing itself.
“..Ugh.”
His insides were shredded, and the metallic taste of blood surged up from the depths of his throat.
“Ugh…”
Instinctively, the blood cultist’s hands fumbled around the sword protruding from his abdomen. A wound like this, a pain like this…
“Aaaaargh!”
Suddenly, a horrific scream tore from his mouth. The sword, lodged in his body, twisted at an unnatural angle, violently stirring his insides.
He might have been able to endure the physical pain, but the agonizing pain from the energy seeping from the sword and shredding his vital energy channels, causing an unbearable pain that no one could withstand.
“Guh… guh…”
He collapsed to the ground, groaning in agony. But even now, Chung Myung’s eyes remained as cold as ever.
“Shut your mouth.”
“Guh…”
Crunch!
Chung Myung’s foot slammed into the blood cultist’s gaping mouth, crushing his teeth and mangling his tongue.
Dark red blood oozed out from the narrow space left between his foot and the cultist’s mouth. The blood cultist, consumed by pain, rolled his eyes back, leaving only the bloodshot whites visible.
“For creatures like you, even a death like this is a luxury.”
“…Ugh, kkk…”
“Go to hell.”
Slash!
The Dark Plum Sword pierced the blood cultist’s neck. His body convulsed violently as if struck by lightning, and then the life drained out of him.
Shhhk.
Chung Myung withdrew the sword and, as if disgusted, swung it sharply to fling off the blood before sheathing it with a swift motion.
Zhuge Gwanoe, who had witnessed the entire scene, seemed almost entranced, unable to tear his eyes away.
‘That..’
Hwasan Geomhyeop Chung Myung.
Who could doubt his prowess now? But seeing it in person, Zhuge Gwanoe realized that Chung Myung’s martial arts skill far exceeded anything he could have imagined.
‘He eliminated nearly ten Blood Palace warriors in just a few breaths..’
Of course, it wasn’t as if those cultists had actively tried to fight him. To be precise, they had been terrified the moment they faced him and had tried to flee, only to be cut down one by one.
But wasn’t that even more impressive?
The Blood Palace was one of the Five Outer Palaces, and Zhuge Gwanoe had already experienced firsthand how skilled those cultists were. He had struggled to contend with even a single one, unable to land a proper strike on them, as if their bodies were immune to his sword.
And yet, Chung Myung had made them flee in terror. Just how powerful must he be to accomplish such a feat?
Their strange weapons, their unnaturally resilient bodies – whatever dark arts had granted them such toughness – were all meaningless. The eerie abilities that had nearly overwhelmed Zhuge Gwanoe were reduced to mere parlor tricks in the face overwhelming difference in skill.
“Any wounded?”
“…Ah.”
Zhuge Gwanoe snapped his head up. At some point, Chung Myung had approached and was now looking down at him with indifferent eyes.
“The… the wounded…”
Zhuge Gwanoe’s voice faltered as he tried to stand, but strength quickly left him when his eyes fell upon the bodies of his relatives, who had been mutilated by the Blood Palace cultists’ weapons. Hoping for anyone to still be alive after suffering such wounds would be too much to ask.
“It seems… there are none.”
A sharp pain throbbed in his side, where he had been struck by the deformed blade, but Zhuge Gwanoe stubbornly refused to mention his injury. It was the last shred of pride he had left.
“Quickly gather yourself and prepare to move.”
“What?”
“This isn’t the only place under attack, is it? We need to help the others.”
“But reinforcements should be coming from above…”
“They’re not dealing with easy opponents. If we’re careless, the casualties will only increase.”
Though it was difficult to fully understand, Zhuge Gwanoe nodded in agreement. Chung Myung, who had started to turn away as if the conversation was over, suddenly stopped and spoke again.
“And just in case, don’t go near their corpses.”
“What?”
“You’ve been warned. I’m heading off.”
With that, Chung Myung’s figure vanished, as if he has never been there.
Only then did Zhuge Gwanoe release the breath he had been holding, exhaling deeply. At the same time, the pain in his side became excruciating, and he collapsed to the ground, unable to hold himself up any longer.
“Brother! Are you alright?”
“…I’m fine.”
The others, who had only just noticed his condition, rushed over in a panic.
“But brother! Your side…!”
Seeing the gaping wound in his side, which looked as if his innards might spill out at any moment, everyone’s faces turned pale.
“We must get you to Wudang immediately.”
“Just stitch it up and wrap it with bandages.”
“But brother! The wound is so severe…”
“I said just bandage it up!”
Zhuge Gwanoe bared his teeth and shouted, causing the person fussing over him to flinch and withdraw.
‘Damn it.’
Zhuge Gwanoe gritted his teeth as someone nearby, still in disbelief, muttered.
“They… they shouldn’t have been able to be brought down.”
“It’s because of the difference in skill.”
“No, that’s not it… Even when I stabbed them with my sword, they were completely fine.”
Zhuge Gwanoe sighed involuntarily. When the gap in skill is too wide, it becomes hard to comprehend what’s happening right in front of your eyes. That’s only natural.
“How many are dead?”
“…Five.”
Groans of anguish escaped from those around him, unable to hold back their grief. Five lives lost in such a short moment.
“The sudden attack by Sapaeryeon… Damn it, if it weren’t for this pointless search…!”
Zhuge Gwanoe’s eyes flashed with frustration.
“Is now the time to be discussing that?”
“…”
“Split up and check the areas that need support! As soon as you find anything, blow your whistle immediately to alert the others.”
“Yes!”
The uninjured warriors of Zhuge family quickly dispersed in all directions. Zhuge Gwanoe bit his lip slightly.
‘Don’t approach the bodies… What did he mean by that?’
“Brother! Over there!”
Zhuge Gwanoe flinched and snapped his head up.
“…What?”
“No, I’m sure I saw something move just now…”
Zhuge Gwanoe frowned deeply.
“What nonsense are you talking about?”
“Maybe I saw it wrong…”
The family member who had shouted looked embarrassed, tilting his head in confusion. Zhuge Gwanoe, feeling his irritation rising, spoke sharply without realizing it.
“If you have time to spout nonsense, then hurry up and bandage me!”
❀ ❀ ❀
Wham!
The hilt of the sword, swung with incredible speed and precision, slammed into the face of the blood cultist who was charging full force. For an ordinary person, such a blow would have shattered every bone in their face.
But the blood cultist merely staggered for a moment before reaching out again.
Slash!
Before the cultist could fully extend his arm, the sword was swung once more, this time burying itself in his neck. The thick, rubbery flesh of his neck was sliced halfway through, and dark, sticky blood oozed out slowly.
Thud.
Even with half his neck severed, the cultist’s body seemed unaware of its condition, taking a few more steps before collapsing forward with a heavy thud.
Yoon Jong’s eyes darkened as he watched.
His actions were brutal, far more so than what one would expect from someone devoted to the Tao. Even he knew this, but dealing with these enemies required such measures.
‘A means to an end!’
Whether cruel or merciful, taking a life remains the same. Once blood is on your hands, debating the method is just a cowardly way to ease one’s conscience.
“Y-Yoon Jong Dojang! Are you alright?”
The man who approached knew Yoon Jong’s name, even though they were from different sects. As Yoon Jong turned his gaze towards him, the man spoke with urgency.
“Be careful… those things… they use strange tricks.”
Yoon Jong already sensed it. He gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.
They had run as fast as they could, but the damage was already severe. Seeing the bodies strewn below darkened his mood even further.
“How could they…”
Yoon Jong’s sleeve slowly swelled with the gathering of internal energy.
The enemy numbers weren’t overwhelming. This meant the attackers were spread out, launching assaults in multiple locations.
‘Geol and Sago went to other places… but even so, we can’t defend every location.’
If he couldn’t quickly neutralize the threat here and move on to support the others, the casualties would only increase. Yoon Jong was fully aware of this.
He knew well who would be held responsible that if the damage from this ambush escalated, and he wanted to prevent that at all cost.
His sword began to emit a fierce aura.
In the next instant, Yoon Jong closed the distance between him and the enemy in one swift, fluid movement, his steps graceful and light as if he were flowing like water. In a flash, he unleashed a flurry of plum blossoms aimed at the chest of the leading blood cultist.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
In an instant, dozens of blood lines appeared on the cultist’s chest.
But then, a sudden ominous feeling washed over him. Acting on instinct, Yoon Jong swiftly ducked, just as the blood cultist’s hand swept over his head, close enough that the powerful wind pressure felt as though it could tear his scalp apart.
‘…Even with such a wound?’
Yoon Jong was certain he had felt one of his sword strikes slice through the cultist’s heart.
Even if the cut wasn’t deep, a wound to the heart should have been fatal.
Yet despite such a severe injury, the cultist was still able to counterattack, and with such force?
‘Damn it!’
Yoon Jong gritted his teeth and swung his sword up with all his might.
Shhhk!
The sword, imbued with intense energy, slashed the cultist’s body once again, leaving a long, deep gash from his left thigh up to his right shoulder.
But at that moment, the cultist’s twisted left hand suddenly lashed out at Yoon Jong.
Scrraaaaatch!
The deformed sword in the cultist’s left hand violently raked the ground where Yoon Jong had been standing just moments before. The earth was torn apart, as if a massive beast had struck it, leaving deep gouges in the dirt.
“…”
Yoon Jong retreated, sweat dripping down his forehead.
‘What is this?’
He was certain he had landed the strike. So how could this be happening?
‘Is it some kind of illusion? Or perhaps..?’
Then, something even more unbelievable caught Yoon Jong’s eye.
“What..?”
The long, gaping wound on the cultist’s body had healed. Just moments ago, the slash had been deep enough to spill his entrails, yet now, there was no trace of the cut at all.
‘It healed in that short moment?’
That couldn’t be possible. It didn’t make any sense…
Wriggle.
Caught in a wave of confusion, Yoon Jong instinctively took a step back.
From the now-sealed wound on the cultist’s body, dozens of long, string-like tendrils were protruding and writhing.
‘Worms?’
No, it wasn’t that. Those were…
“Yoon Jong Dojang! Behind you!”
“What?”
Yoon Jong reflexively turned his head, and the blood drained from his face.
The cultist he had just nearly decapitated was now rising, his body bending at unnatural angles as he stood up.
“What… is happening…?”
From the severed neck of the rising cultist, the same writhing tendrils emerged. The once-lifeless figure now moved like a marionette, his eyes half-rolled back in his head, and he grinned grotesquely, a bizarre and twisted smile stretching across the face.
Yoon Jong’s face was overtaken by a deep, overwhelming fear.
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