Chapter 1034

Dressed from head to toe in white so pure it looked almost unnatural, they stood out among Dark Heaven’s pitch-black ranks.

Their sleeves were so long and full they dragged on the ground. Veils hid most of their faces.

Wrapped without a gap in what looked less like clothing than great swaths of silk, they watched the battlefield in silence. Even the Blood-Sword Demon Lord was unaccustomed to the sight of them.

No—in a way, they made him uncomfortable.

Unlike the Black Ghosts—former comrades who had shared meals with him before becoming mindless killing machines—the white-robed figures answered not to him, but to “that person.”

If that were all, it might have been easier to bear.

A moment ago, his eyes had been bright as he watched blood spread across the battlefield. Now displeasure flickered through them.

Such a magnificent battlefield right before me, and I have to stand here watching.

It was more than displeasure. He was beginning to feel downright offended.

His gaze swept over the twenty white-robed figures and stopped on one of them. He remembered the quiet voice that had halted him when he had eagerly moved to the front fifteen minutes earlier.

“Demon Lord, please be patient a little longer. The time is not yet ripe.”

Had anyone said that to him during the Great Faction War, he would have torn open the fool’s mouth and ripped out his tongue.

But fifty years was a long time. The Blood-Sword Demon Lord had grown a little more mature.

More precisely, fear and reverence for his new master, the Lord of Heaven, had stayed his feet and checked his murderous impulse.

Damn it.

There was a simple reason the slender figure he was glaring at had survived daring to interfere with him.

If not for that person…

She led the white-robed figures and had served the Lord of Heaven even more closely than he had. Born killer though he was, the Blood-Sword Demon Lord could hardly use a mere slight as grounds to strike her down.

That did not mean he could swallow his irritation.

“They’re holding up rather well. If I’d stepped in sooner, the battle would have swung decisively in our favor by now.”

His gaze and voice made the mockery plain. Neither the figure he had singled out nor anyone around her replied.

Their silence stoked the anger he had been struggling to contain.

“Strange, isn’t it? You stepped in without a care when you shouldn’t have. Now you’re acting like you’ve swallowed your tongue.”

His snake-like pupils narrowed further, still fixed on her.

“Or does that mean you’d like to stay silent forever?”

At the sound of his low voice, the figure finally parted her lips.

“What answer do you want from me, Demon Lord?”

Her reply was calm, without a hint of a tremor. The Blood-Sword Demon Lord’s brow twitched.

“I command this army. I came here to carry out that person’s will.”

“I know. I was there, too.”

“And yet you, a mere woman, dare to give me orders?”

“I gave no order. I only tried to dissuade you.”

Beneath the white silk veil, her cherry-red lips moved again.

“And that is what that person wishes, too.”

“…!”

At the unexpected reply, the Blood-Sword Demon Lord’s face went rigid.

“What… did you say?”

“I said that is what that person wishes.”

“That person—the great Lord of Heaven—doesn’t want me to step in? What is that supposed to…”

He trailed off in disbelief. The woman gave a small shake of her head, and the pure-white veil swayed. Its embroidered pattern was beautiful, yet somehow uncanny.

“You misunderstand. That person simply wishes you to come to no harm, if possible.”

“Harm? Me, of all people?”

For a moment, the Blood-Sword Demon Lord doubted his ears.

It was an unbearably humiliating thing to hear—as a martial artist, and as a subordinate who had devoted himself wholeheartedly to serving someone.

He commanded more than thirty thousand demonic soldiers, the Three Elders of Tianshan—three hunting dogs who had admittedly outlived their usefulness—and seven Black Ghosts besides.

And that was not all.

He hadn’t yet revealed the full extent of his strength, but the Blood-Sword Demon Lord himself had reached the realm of supreme mastery, making him one of the greatest masters alive.

The enemy, by contrast, fell short in every respect: in the number of Supreme Peak masters who could turn a battle, in the quality of their soldiers, and in sheer momentum.

The scales were tipped already. They had been tipping even before the battle began, and they were still tipping now.

So why was that woman spouting such nonsense? Why cast a boulder into his heart and crack his certainty that he had his master’s complete trust?

“Will you stake your life on what you just said?”

His eyes and voice had gone cold. The woman’s answer barely changed.

“That person’s care for you is as vast as the sea. Please, try to understand his wishes.”

It was as good as an admission.

A faint smile touched the Blood-Sword Demon Lord’s lips.

“That person cares for me. Yes, I should understand.”

The smile on his face didn’t look like a smile at all. The woman’s voice turned urgent.

“As you know, four Demon Lords and Demon Empresses have already met their ends. That person needs at least one more loyal servant to carry out his great cause…….”

“Enough. All you mean to say is that I shouldn’t act rashly.”

“…Demon Lord, that is not—”

“Enough. Hold your tongue. I understand that person’s wishes perfectly well now.”

He spoke evenly, but the thoughts left behind by the storm in his mind were anything but calm.

You are watching me yourself, and this is all you think I’m capable of?

Crack.

The joints of his clenched hand popped. His fist had gone white, and his nails began to dig into his skin.

I have served you with all I have. I followed you more faithfully than anyone.

He remembered the day he first met the Lord of Heaven. The trembling born of unimaginable fear and reverence, the shock that had made him think his heart might stop—he remembered it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.

Though I was not given the post I wanted, I have lived these fifty years and more solely to serve your great cause.

The Great Faction War.

When the Heavenly Demon met his end at the Martial God’s hands near the close of that long war, the Blood-Sword Demon Lord had not been shaken in the slightest.

Of course he hadn’t. The Heavenly Demon he had known was only human.

The ambition that had once seemed so grand, the martial might that had forced the young Blood-Sword Demon Lord to his knees—both had lost their luster after he met the Lord of Heaven.

He had felt no sorrow. He had been glad to find a master truly worthy of his service.

Glad until five other great fiends took seats above him in the newly risen Dark Heaven.

Even then, I simply obeyed you.

He’d understood without a word.

The Western Heaven Demon Lord had outranked him in the Demonic Cult, so his position was justified. The Eastern Heaven Demon Lord and the North Heaven Demon Lord were daggers planted deep in the Central Plains; the importance of their roles warranted high standing.

He could understand the Southern Heaven Demon Empress and the Blood Lord as well.

Discontent had taken root in his heart, but their positions were his master’s will.

But…

Now, before it’s too late, you should have trusted me at least a little.

The four Demon Lords and Demon Empress the Lord of Heaven had trusted so deeply had all met their ends. They had failed their missions spectacularly, then left this world before anyone could even call them to account.

At last, the Blood-Sword Demon Lord’s turn had come.

Together with the Blood Lord, who had stubbornly survived, he had finally become one of the Lord of Heaven’s two arms. Whether he was the right or the left hardly mattered.

His master’s trust and the opportunity he had been given—that was all he had wanted.

That was all.

But what was there to worry about so much?

None of the dead Demon Lords or the Demon Empress had led an army like his. None had commanded seven Black Ghosts and tens of thousands of soldiers.

He had every condition for victory that they had lacked. Yet his master still did not trust him fully.

He could hear that distrust in the words of the woman dressed in snow-white robes.

“Did you trust me so little?”

The lament meant to remain in his heart slipped between his lips.

KWA-BOOOOM!

A pillar of fire shot skyward with a roar that seemed to split the heavens. Even from dozens of jang¹ away, where the Blood-Sword Demon Lord stood, it was unmistakable. It could be seen from anywhere on the battlefield—immense, raging, and merciless.

GRRRRRR!

A violent tremor traveled through the ground.

The Blood-Sword Demon Lord had turned at the sudden wave of power even before the roar reached him. He took in the scene and murmured to his absent master once more.

“If you’d trusted me just a little more, this battle might already have been over.”

“Demon Lord…!”

“What? Am I not allowed even this much of a complaint?”

He answered the woman’s urgent cry without looking back. His eyes were on the haze rising in the distance—or rather, on the two figures streaking through the terrible heat that had produced it.

KRAK, BOOM!

Fire King Jeok Cheongang.

Each punch and palm strike burst the murky black fog apart. As the fog gathered to repair the damage, dark-blue Force slashed through it from every direction.

SHHK—KWA-BOOOOM!

Four Black Ghosts staggered again and again. Dark energy welled from the severed ends of their limbs like blood of another color. They looked unmistakably like humans on the verge of death.

No—the Blood-Sword Demon Lord knew it instinctively.

Eternal death was finally coming for them, too.

Goooooong.

Space suddenly began to distort. Great Force surged around the white spearhead, rising and rolling in waves.

Like…

A dragon.

And at the moment the Blood-Sword Demon Lord muttered those words to himself, the spear, now one with its master, fell toward the Black Ghosts like a bolt of lightning.

SHWAAASH!

Heavenly Strike.

The distant flash swept through a radius of dozens of jang¹, bathing everything in light and shaking the ground. In its wake, nothing remained.

Not the four Black Ghosts. Not the followers who had kept charging at the master and his disciple without pause.

Only one thing remained: the resolve of a born killer determined to prove himself to his master.

SHING.

A sharp sound brushed the Blood-Sword Demon Lord’s ear.