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Chapter 1748

You can think of this as me blowing off some steam. (3)

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At that moment…

“Amitabha…”

A groan of disbelief escaped Hye Yeon’s lips.

‘What in the world is that?’

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing – thin tendrils emerging from the cultist’s wound, thrashing wildly in all directions. It resembled something more like an insect than a beast.

But how could such a thing come from a human body?

‘No, more importantly…’

The tendrils were emerging from the very spot where his strike had landed. The once blackened, dead flesh was now regaining its color, pulsating in rhythm with those worm-like tendrils.

What kind of sorcery was this?

No matter how vast the world was, no matter how many bizarre and grotesque dark arts existed beyond his knowledge, this defied everything Hye Yeon understood about martial arts and the natural world.

“Amitabha. Amitabha!”

He chanted the holy name repeatedly, trying to steady his mind against the unsettling sight before him.

In the meantime, the blood cultist slowly wiped the blood trickling from his lips and began to advance towards Hye Yeon. Instinctively, Hye Yeon took a step back.

“Krahhhhh!”

The blood cultist’s low groan transformed into a terrifying scream. He lunged forward, his aura radiating malice.

Hye Yeon bit down hard on his lower lip.

❀ ❀ ❀

“What, what is that?”

The situation on the other side wasn’t much different.

Jo Geol’s eyes were wide with shock. It was only natural, as the arm he had personally severed was now reattaching itself.

“Ugh… Damn it.”

Jo Geol clamped his mouth shut with his left hand.

The sight of tendrils reattaching the severed arm was so bizarre that even Jo Geol, who prided himself on his courage, couldn’t help but groan. A wave of physiological disgust surged within him.

‘The place that was cut off is reattaching itself?’

It wasn’t just the arm. From the long gash in his side, those grotesque tendrils were also wriggling. If every slash reattaches itself like that, how are they supposed to deal with such creatures?

“No way…”

“Stay calm.”

At that moment, the cold voice of Yu Iseol pierced through his ears.

“But, but…”

“Sorcery is vast and complex. It’s impossible for us to know everything.”

There was no way to disagree with that. They had never even heard of something like this, let alone seen it in their lives.

“But the solution is simple.”

“What?”

Yu Iseol quietly raised her sword.

“No one can use sorcery after their head is severed.”

“…But wouldn’t they protect their necks if they’re not complete fools?”

“Restrain their limbs. I’ll cut off the heads.”

Jo Geol unconsciously shook his head. Just listening to their conversation, one might mistake them for being the ones practicing dark arts.

“…Can’t tell if I’m the stupid one, or if you’re just incredibly smart.”

A faint laugh escaped Jo Geol’s lips.

Honestly, the method didn’t matter. What was impressive was how Yu Iseol remained completely unshaken in the face of such a grotesque scene. In moments like this, Yu Iseol was more reliable than anyone else in Hwasan.

“Well, it’s fine since we’re together, but… what about those who went alone? It could be dangerous.”

“That’s obvious.”

Once again, Jo Geol nodded in agreement.

Yeah, what other option is there? The only thing to do is to wrap this up as quickly as possible and then go support the others.

“Then let’s begin.”

“Go.”

“Here we go!”

Jo Geol kicked off the ground with all his might and charged forward.

❀ ❀ ❀

A bead of sweat trickled down Yoon Jong’s chin.

‘His neck was severed.’

Yet, the man was standing up. The severed neck was reattaching itself.

What should one call this? Recovery? Or regeneration?

Whatever it was, it was something that should never happen to a human. That much was certain.

Of course, martial arts by nature strengthen the human body and allow one to exhibit powers beyond ordinary human capability.

From the perspective of an ordinary person, it’s hard to say which is more bizarre – someone whose severed body parts reattach themselves or someone who can bring down a mountain with a single sword strike.

But even knowing this, Yoon Jong felt fear welling up inside him. It was likely because the common sense he had relied on was crumbling before his eyes. People tend to feel an undefined fear towards things they cannot comprehend.

Yoon Jong tried to suppress his fear. But before he could fully calm his heart, they moved first.

“It seems you’re scared.”

The blood cultist, with blood dripping from his mouth, approached triumphantly.

“What a fool. When shown divine grace, you should be awestruck, not filled with fear.”

Yoon Jong’s senses subtly shifted to the rear.

The blood cultist, who had risen like a puppet, still hadn’t fully regained his senses.

The one standing behind had almost lost his head. It seemed the recovery speed varied depending on the severity of the injury.

But the problem was that he couldn’t entirely ignore those behind him. He couldn’t accurately predict when they would fully recover.

‘Damn it.’

Yoon Jong suddenly felt the acute absence of Jo Geol. If only that guy were here, they wouldn’t be surrounded like this…

“Are you waiting for reinforcements? Doesn’t seem like anyone’s coming.”

“…”

“Where’s all that bravado from before? This is why scum like you disgust me. So fearless when you’re in a group, but the moment you’re alone, you become this pathetic.”

Yoon Jong’s tightly shut lips pressed together even harder.

It was an obvious provocation. He wasn’t someone who would fall for such a thing. Yet, those words struck deep within him.

‘If it were Geol, he wouldn’t have been scared.’

If it were Yu Iseol, she would have attacked without hesitation. If it were Tang Soso, she would have analyzed the situation calmly. Chung Myung? That guy wouldn’t have let things get to this point in the first place.

But what did Yoon Jong have?

He had known for some time that he was falling behind the others. To be honest, his current role was merely to clean up after Jo Geol’s wild rampage and support him.

That’s why those words hurt.

‘But still…!’

The blood cultist lunged at him.

“Die!”

Yoon Jong instinctively started to leap back but quickly bit down on his lip, realizing his mistake. There was an enemy behind him too. He must not forget that.

‘Stay calm!’

It was just that the cut had healed. It wasn’t that they couldn’t be cut. The opponent’s skill itself wasn’t all that exceptional. If it healed, all he had to do was cut again.

As the enemy charged recklessly, swinging his arm, Yoon Jong thrust his sword forward.

Like a flash of lightning, the blade aimed straight for the enemy’s neck.

It was a textbook move. But because it was textbook, it was all the more dangerous.

However, just as he fully extended his sword, Yoon Jong’s eyes widened in shock. He realized the mistake he had made, but it was too late.

Bang!

Yoon Jong’s body was flung to the side.

“Gurgh…”

A gurgling sound of blood filled the air.

Yoon Jong’s sword had pierced through the cultist’s neck with precision. By all logic, the one with the pierced neck should have died before he could even attack Yoon Jong.

But the blood cultist, even with his neck cut, had struck Yoon Jong in the side without hesitation.

“Ugh!”

Yoon Jong tumbled and coughed violently.

A searing pain spread through him as if all his ribs had shattered. The taste of blood filled his mouth.

‘Damn it…’

It wasn’t that Yoon Jong had been foolish.

Such is the nature of martial arts. In the fleeting moments where life and death hang in the balance, there’s no time for thought.

Martial arts are about repeating the same actions over countless hours until the body moves before the mind even has to think.

The moment he was attacked, aiming for the enemy’s neck was almost instinctual, a habit Yoon Jong had cultivated over time through sheer force of will.

Yet, the very habit that had saved him from countless dangers became a hindrance in this moment.

“Huuh…”

Yoon Jong panted heavily, gritting his teeth.

From the gaping hole in the Blood Cultist’s neck, those bizarre tendrils began writhing again, thrashing about as the wound gradually closed.

Of course, the newly formed flesh was far from normal. Instead of a light red, it was a dark, almost blackish color, like the bark of a tree. But regardless, the wound was closing once more.

‘This won’t work…’

For a moment, Yoon Jong felt overwhelmed and paused. His eyes slowly settled into a calm, deep focus.

– It’s impossible, Sasuk!

That day, he had shouted those words. But Baek Cheon hadn’t even turned back.

Yoon Jong took a deep breath and thought.

What would Baek Cheon have done in this situation?

First, he would have planted his feet firmly, ensuring that any weakness in his resolve wouldn’t show through trembling. He believed that standing tall, with shoulders wide open, would give him strength, even within himself.

‘There must be a way!

If there wasn’t, those Blood Palace bastards wouldn’t have remained hidden in the outskirts.

And more than that, Yoon Jong had already seen them retreat once. If their bodies could regenerate infinitely, they would never have retreated like that…

‘Wait a minute.’

Yoon Jong hesitated once more, recalling the moment when the Blood Palace encountered Chung Myung.

‘What did that guy say as he retreated?’

He remembered it clearly, it must have been Chung Myung’s sword…

“Haaah!”

Before he could piece together his thoughts, the enemies lunged at him, their eyes rolling back. Yoon Jong instinctively pushed off the ground, leaping back.

‘Immortal energy [선기(仙氣)]?’

Yes, that’s what he had said.

Crack!

The blood cultist’s bizarre blade collided with Yoon Jong’s sword. In that instant, the cultist reached out with his other arm, trying to wrap it around Yoon Jong’s sword. No sane human would ever attempt something like that.

But for these creatures, it was possible. Whether their arm was severed or pierced, if they could bind their opponent’s sword for even a moment, it was worth it to them.

Yoon Jong, alarmed, yanked his sword back. In that brief instant, the cultist’s strange blade grazed past Yoon Jong’s neck – a neck that, unlike theirs, could never reattach itself.

‘Immortal energy!’

Yoon Jong’s breathing grew heavy.

Immortal energy, the energy of immortals [or sages]. It was something that those who practiced the Taoist sword arts yearned for even in their dreams. But no one truly knew what it was.

‘No.’

As he recalled, it wasn’t that their weakness was specifically immortal energy. It was simply that immortal energy was the natural enemy of all sorcery.

Why did Chung Myung say that?

“Kahahahat!”

At that exact moment, a wild cry erupted from behind him. Simultaneously, Yoon Jong felt a fierce energy surging towards his back.

He instinctively rolled his body to the side.

Boom!

Almost at the same time, the ground where he had just been standing exploded, sending dirt and rocks flying.

“Huff!”

Rough breaths escaped from his mouth one after another.

‘Then why didn’t he tell us?’

If immortal energy was the answer to dealing with these creatures, and if Chung Myung knew that Hwasan might clash with them again someday… why didn’t he teach everyone how to harness it?

Why?

“You stubborn fool, don’t you know shame?”

“And yet you’ve always acted so high and mighty.”

The blood cultists sneered as they watched Yoon Jong rolling on the ground to avoid their attacks. But their mockery didn’t shake him in the slightest.

“…Sorry to disappoint you.”

For the first time, Yoon Jong opened his mouth to speak, and the blood cultists eyed him with a curious glint.

“I’ve never claimed to be anything special. I’m not someone worthy of that kind of pride.”

“Haha!”

A sharp, mocking laugh echoed in response.

Once again, instead of letting anger rise, Yoon Jong inhaled a cool, calm breath.

He had spoken his true feelings – there was no reason to be angry.

Compared to the monstrous blood cultists, and to his seniors and juniors who seemed to reach new heights every time he saw them, Yoon Jong knew he was not exceptional. No one knew this better than he did.

Yet, what did he have?

His eyes settled into a steady calmness.

“We’ve dragged this out too long. Let’s finish this and move on…”

“I know.”

The blood cultists exchanged words while subtly glancing up. If they delayed any longer, reinforcements from Mount Wudang might arrive. In that case, the situation could turn dangerous for them.

“End it.”

“Yes.”

The blood cultists spread out, surrounding Yoon Jong widely.

Yoon Jong calmly observed them. Their intention to finish him in one strike was clear. He sensed that this time, it wouldn’t be easy to counter. The coordinated attack from opponents who cared nothing for the injuries they would sustain would be unimaginably vicious and dangerous.

But instead of panicking, he took a deep breath. His sword let out a heavy hum.

‘Why didn’t Chung Myung tell us?’

And why didn’t Baek Cheon reveal what he intended to do?

“Kahahaat!”

As one of the blood cultists charged directly at Yoon Jong, the others followed suit, raising their grotesque swords as they closed in on him.

Yoon Jong’s eyes momentarily flashed with fierce light. But just as quickly, that intensity faded into a calm state, like the still surface of a lake.

‘Because there was no need to say it.’

Nothing in this world, absolutely nothing, changes suddenly. Nothing can be gained in an instant.

If it seems that way, it’s only because we fail to see the long period of time hidden behind it.

The sharp, grotesque blades of the blood cultists flew at Yoon Jong from all directions, aiming to tear his flesh apart.

Yoon Jong, who had been watching as if he were an observer, slowly began to move his sword.

‘It’s not that he didn’t say it.’

There simply was no need to say it.

Even without being extraordinary or special, it would inevitably be there.

If the time he had spent until now wasn’t in vain, then the answer would be within him. That is what martial arts are, and that is the way of the Tao!

“Believe.”

With Yoon Jong’s quiet murmur, the sharp tip of his sword moved gently. Red petals began to bloom softly in the air.

The sight resembled the clear, transparent morning dew.

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