Chapter 366

Drip. Drip-drip-drip.

The world lay submerged in darkness so deep that it was impossible to tell how much time had passed.

Black clouds filled the sky, and the rain that had seemed like a passing shower showed no sign of stopping.

Within the grounds of the Sichuan Tang Clan, beside an overflowing pool of blood, corpses had piled up into a small hill.

“So? How are things inside?”

At the gates of the Sichuan Tang Clan, a black-clad man sat astride the corpse of an unknown Tang Clan martial artist. A subordinate who had just arrived from the Inner Hall answered him.

“It still isn’t over. I hear about a hundred of them remain.”

“What? That many?”

“Only half are martial artists. The rest are craftsmen who never learned martial arts, women, or children.”

“Then they should wipe them out and be done with it. What the hell are they wasting time for?”

The black-clad man’s irritation was only natural. Being stuck guarding the entrance while the others earned all the glory was bad enough, but this tedious gate duty still wasn’t over.

“Well, you see…”

“Is there some reason?”

At his superior’s frown, the subordinate hurriedly continued.

“The surviving Tang Clan martial artists are elites, for one thing. But the real problem is that they activated a mechanism array, and it’s holding everyone up.”

“A mechanism array? A poison array shouldn’t be difficult to break through.”

“It isn’t poison. It’s explosives. They had Heaven-Shaking Thunder hidden away.”

“……You don’t mean the Heaven-Shaking Thunder from Pyeokryeomun¹, do you?”

“It seems so. Because some of them charged in carrying Heaven-Shaking Thunder and died in the explosions, quite a few of our brothers suffered serious losses.”

“Ha. Would you look at these lunatics?”

The black-clad man’s mouth fell open. He had wondered what was happening when those ominous booms began echoing through the grounds, but he had never expected the Tang Clan to possess Heaven-Shaking Thunder from the long-destroyed Pyeokryeomun¹.

He could now understand, to some extent, why the battle had been delayed.

“Wait. Then what has the Demon Lord been doing? He should have been more than capable of slaughtering them all himself.”

The black-clad man’s question reflected his unwavering faith in the Western Heaven Demon Lord.

And for good reason. The Western Heaven Demon Lord was one of the few servants permitted an audience with the exalted Lord of Heaven, and he possessed terrifying martial might.

The black-clad man had only ever heard of Heaven-Shaking Thunder and had no idea how powerful it truly was. But even the grandfather of Heaven-Shaking Thunder itself could never harm the Western Heaven Demon Lord.

“I heard he went to the Tang Clan’s underground prison a shichen² ago.”

The subordinate’s answer made the black-clad man nod.

If the Demon Lord had gone there personally, he must have had a reason, and he would resolve the matter without the slightest mistake. The black-clad man felt not a trace of worry or doubt.

Nor was he alone. Everyone felt the same way.

“Then what about the First Captain?”

First Captain was the position First Fiend, the eldest of the Qilian Three Fiends, had assumed upon entering the Western Heaven Demon Lord’s service.

After a brief hesitation, the subordinate answered.

“He’s engaged in a life-and-death duel with the Sword Saint’s successor in the Inner Hall. No one has been able to approach him since one of our brothers who went to deliver news about the Heaven-Shaking Thunder lost his head.”

“……I see.”

The black-clad man said no more.

What he felt toward the Western Heaven Demon Lord was reverence and trust. What he felt toward First Fiend was fear. He had no desire to voice a careless complaint and meet a gruesome end.

“Um, Captain.”

“Do you have something to say?”

“Yes. The deputy captain asked whether we’d heard from the brothers sent to Qingcheng and Emei.”

“A message arrived just before you got here.”

The black-clad man handed him a small tube. The subordinate checked its contents, then looked up in confusion.

“This is…”

“It came from Emei.”

“Is this the only one?”

“Yes. We still haven’t heard anything from Qingcheng.”

“Their message should have arrived by now.”

“That’s true. But you know what the other captains are like.”

The three brothers of the Qilian Three Fiends resembled one another in more than their ugly appearances.

All three were cruel and eccentric fiends who lost their minds at the sight of blood.

Third Fiend, who had been assigned to Emei Sect, was somewhat better than the others. At least he had sent a messenger eagle at the appointed time.

The problem was that, according to his letter, the situation at Emei was not proceeding smoothly.

The Beggars’ Sect got involved.

The letter reported that Beggars’ Sect disciples wielding bamboo staffs and dog-beating clubs³ had appeared out of nowhere.

Individually, their martial arts were no match for Dark Heaven’s martial artists, but their appearance held greater significance.

They’ve already caught our scent.

The attack had been meticulously planned. The battle should have ended swiftly and decisively, yet it was dragging on.

Even with this unexpected complication, however, the black-clad man had no doubt that his side would prevail.

He had just shaken off the unease that had briefly troubled him when he suddenly looked up.

“Hmm?”

“What is it?”

“What’s that?”

At the black-clad man’s questioning voice, both the subordinate from the Inner Hall and the thirty-odd martial artists stationed at regular intervals along the walls gathered around him.

Then they saw it.

Beyond the collapsed wall, a streak of wind tore through the driving rain.

It moved swiftly enough to be called a ray of light. Then it erupted in a dazzling flash.

Ssshhhhhhk—crack!

The thirty-odd martial artists blinked. When they reflexively touched their faces, their fingers came away sticky with blood.

Slowly—very slowly—their mouths fell open and their heads turned.

In a world that seemed to have slowed to a crawl, they watched their superior collapse like a rotten old tree.

A hole the size of a fingernail had been punched through the center of his forehead.

“……!”

They felt as though they had been clubbed across the backs of their heads.

Their superior was a Peak master capable of making a name for himself anywhere under heaven. Yet a man of such skill had been killed by a strike none of them had even seen.

Before anyone present could recover from that tremendous shock, a figure sprang up onto the wall.

And then—

Ssssh-sh-sh-sh!

In the darkness, death-laden rays of light plunged down like bolts of lightning.

First Fiend was on the verge of going insane.

No—he had already been insane for more than fifty years. Now he was becoming an even greater lunatic.

“Why! Why! How could this be!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Blood-red Force surged from the twin axes in his hands, smashing and cleaving everything around him.

The sturdy pavilion where the Family Head of the Sichuan Tang Clan had once resided had long since been reduced to ruins.

A lone figure darted back and forth through the wreckage.

“Ah! Eeng! Eek! Whoosh!”

Cheongpung hopped and skipped around, dodging the Force while making strange noises. First Fiend’s eyes rolled white.

“You little son of a—!”

It was enough to drive him mad.

His opponent was a mere pup not yet thirty. He might have been an unprecedented monster who had received the Sword Saint’s teachings and reached the Supreme Peak realm in his twenties, but even that could not erase the gulf created by age and experience.

First Fiend was an old monster from two generations back. He possessed immense internal energy, experience, and martial arts of the highest realm.

That was why, although he had been surprised at first, he had felt no real sense of danger.

The Sword Saint raised quite a monster. There was a reason the Demon Lord warned me about him before leaving. But he still has a long way to go before he can challenge this old man. Heh heh heh.

It did not take long, however, for the smile on his lips to twist into fury.

“Die! I said die!”

With a maddened roar, he swept his twin axes down through the air. A vast net of Force unfurled and descended over Cheongpung’s head.

The Red Slaughter Asura Net.

It was one of the signature techniques left behind by the Red Slaughter Demon, who had dyed the martial world in blood three hundred years ago.

That infamous Slaughter Saint, hunted throughout the Central Plains as a public enemy of Murim, had met his end in an unnamed cave in the Qilian Mountains. Three brothers hiding there from the world had discovered the martial arts manual he left behind. After mastering its contents, they had emerged anew as the Qilian Three Fiends.

And now, the perfected Red Slaughter Asura Net—a technique no one since the Red Slaughter Demon had been able to perform—had finally reappeared through First Fiend’s twin axes.

Whoooosh!

That was when Cheongpung’s gaze deepened as he watched the red net of Force close in from every direction.

Shaaah—

A cool breeze blew.

At the same time, purple Sword Force enveloped his blade and sliced diagonally through the net.

Slash!

First Fiend’s mouth fell open as Cheongpung’s One-Character Wisdom Sword dismantled the perfected Red Slaughter Asura Net with absurd ease.

“Y-You knew the Red Slaughter Demon’s martial arts?”

No perfect martial art existed.

Every martial art left by the Red Slaughter Demon deserved to be called a signature technique, but each still possessed weaknesses. Those weaknesses were secrets known only to the Qilian Three Fiends.

Yet the pup before him had identified them precisely.

“Answer me this instant!”

Cheongpung’s reply was short and simple.

“What’s the Red Slaughter Demon? I’ve never heard of him.”

“……What?”

“Oh, is this about what I just did?”

Cheongpung tilted his head.

“I could just see it.”

“Y-You could see it?”

“If you keep watching, you start to understand. You have more internal energy than I do, Grandpa, and your martial arts are more complicated, so it took a little longer.”

“It took longer?”

“Yes. But I don’t think it’ll take that long anymore.”

“……!”

First Fiend understood what Cheongpung meant the very next moment.

Ssssh!

A purple flash filled his vision.

Caught off guard by the sudden sword strike, First Fiend hurriedly whipped both axes through the air like lightning.

The Red Slaughter Eighteen Axes lacked subtlety, but its destructive power was second to none. Backed by more than two jiazi⁴ of internal energy, it carried enough force to split heaven and earth.

And yet—

Kagagagak!

Cheongpung’s smoothly extended blade guided one axe aside, then struck the other as it swept powerfully toward his flank.

KWAANG!

A thunderous boom erupted, and First Fiend staggered. He had effectively smashed his own axes together.

Even as he retreated, he stared in stunned disbelief.

W-What in the world just happened?

Fwoosh!

Cheongpung shot toward him.

His clear eyes had grown deep and still, while sunset-purple qi surged from his sword.

Whooooom!

First Fiend stared blankly at the strike descending toward the crown of his head.

Th-This is…

There was no mistaking it.

The Red Slaughter Eighteen Axes.

No—this martial art should now be called the Red Slaughter Eighteen Swords.

In less than a shichen², Cheongpung had not only seen through and dismantled First Fiend’s martial arts. He was making them his own.

How can this be!

First Fiend swung his twin axes with a silent cry of shock.

The revelation had slowed his reactions, but not enough to keep him from countering.

At least, that was what he believed—until Cheongpung’s sword moved.

Whoooong.

The heavy, destructive sword stroke softened into the fall of a flower. Thirty-six plum blossoms bloomed from its tip and drifted down through the air.

One martial art surfaced in First Fiend’s mind.

The Thirty-Six Plum Blossom Swords.

At the same time, he realized—

I can’t avoid it.

Ssssh-sh-sh-sh!

Thirty-six plum blossoms—or rather, thirty-six streaks of Force—enveloped First Fiend’s entire body.

Blood spread like mist. Slashed from head to toe, First Fiend staggered backward.

Fear filled his eyes as he stared at Cheongpung, whose sword hung loosely at his side.

“Cough. You… You are…”

“Good thing it’s raining.”

Cheongpung stepped forward, his voice calm.

“I don’t like the smell of blood.”

Splash.

Cheongpung stepped into a crimson puddle of rainwater and blood. First Fiend let out a piercing scream.

“Anyone! Is there no one out there? Hurry, get this bastard…!”

At that moment, a low voice slipped into his ear.

“Don’t call out. There’s no one here.”

“……!”

“……!”

There had been no footsteps. No hint of anyone’s presence.

And yet he was there.

The raindrops pouring down overhead shattered in midair before they could touch him.

“Who the hell are you—”

Slash!

First Fiend’s head flew into the air.

Cheongpung flicked the blood from his sword, then stared with a rigid expression at him, standing tall before him.

“I’d like to ask you the same thing. Who are you?”

His voice trembled faintly as he continued.

“Mungyeong.”