Chapter 366

Drip. Drip-drip-drip.

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

The sky was filled with black clouds, and the rain that had seemed like a passing shower refused to stop.

Within the grounds of the Sichuan Tang Clan, near a puddle of spilled 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 was sitting astride the corpse of an unknown Tang Clan martial artist. A subordinate who had just arrived from the Inner Hall answered his question.

“The situation still hasn’t ended. I hear about a hundred of them are left.”

“What? That many?”

“Only half of them are martial artists. The rest are craftsmen who haven’t learned martial arts, women, or children.”

“Then they should just wipe them out without a second thought. What kind of pointless nonsense are they doing?”

The black-clad man’s dissatisfaction was only natural. It was unpleasant enough to be stuck guarding the entrance while others made accomplishments. The fact that this tedious gatekeeping still had not ended irritated him even more.

“Well, you see…”

“Is there some reason?”

Seeing his superior frown, the subordinate hurriedly continued.

“The surviving Tang Clan martial artists are elites, for one thing. But it seems the Tang Clan activated a mechanism array, which has delayed things.”

“A mechanism array? If it’s a poison array, it shouldn’t be difficult to break through.”

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

“……You don’t mean the Heaven-Shaking Thunder of the Pyeokryeomun,¹ 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 the ominous booms began echoing around them. He had never expected the Tang Clan to possess Heaven-Shaking Thunder from the Pyeokryeomun, a sect that had been destroyed long ago.

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 able to slaughter them all by himself.”

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

That was only natural. The Western Heaven Demon Lord was one of the few servants permitted to pay respects to the exalted Lord of Heaven, and he possessed terrifying martial might.

The black-clad man did not know how powerful the Heaven-Shaking Thunder he had only heard about was. But even if the grandfather of Heaven-Shaking Thunder itself appeared, it would not be able to harm the Western Heaven Demon Lord.

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

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

If the Demon Lord had moved personally, there had to be a reason. He would resolve the matter without the slightest mistake. The black-clad man felt not even a trace of worry or doubt.

Nor was that thought unique to him. Everyone felt the same way.

“Then what about the First Captain?”

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

After hesitating briefly, 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.

If his feelings toward the Western Heaven Demon Lord were reverence and trust, what he felt toward First Fiend was fear. He had no desire to complain carelessly and meet a horrible end.

“Um, Captain.”

“Do you have something to say?”

“Yes. The deputy captain asked about the brothers who went to Qingcheng and Emei.”

“A message arrived just before you got here.”

The black-clad man handed him a small tube. After checking its contents, the subordinate raised his head with a bewildered expression.

“This is…”

“It came from Emei.”

“Is this the only one?”

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

“I believe the time for it to arrive has already passed.”

“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.

They were all cruel and eccentric, fiends who went wild at the sight of blood.

The 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 the situation described in the letter from Emei was not progressing smoothly.

The Beggars’ Sect got involved.

The letter said that Beggars’ Sect disciples carrying bamboo staffs and dog clubs had suddenly appeared.

Their individual martial arts could not compare to those of Dark Heaven’s martial artists, but the meaning behind their appearance was significant.

They’ve already caught our scent.

The attack had been calculated down to the last detail. A battle that should have ended quickly was dragging on. Even so, the black-clad man had no doubt that their side would win despite this unexpected variable.

Just as he was casting off the unease that had briefly touched him, he suddenly raised his head.

“Hmm?”

“What is it?”

“What’s that?”

At the black-clad man’s questioning voice, not only the subordinate who had brought news from the Inner Hall but also the thirty-odd martial artists scattered at regular intervals to guard the walls gathered around their superior.

And soon, they saw it.

Beyond the collapsed wall, a streak of wind cutting through the sheets of rain.

It moved fast enough to be called a ray of light. Then it burst into a dazzling flash.

Ssshhhhhhk—crack!

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

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

In the slowed-down world, they saw their superior’s body collapse like a rotten old tree.

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

“……!”

It felt as if something had struck them across the backs of their heads.

Their superior was a Peak master capable of making a name for himself anywhere under heaven. And yet a man with such skill had met his death from a blow they could not even see.

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, rays of light filled with death plunged down like lightning.

First Fiend was on the verge of going insane.

No—he had already been insane for more than fifty years. He was merely becoming even more of a 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 lived had long since become a ruin.

A figure was darting back and forth through it.

“Ah! Eeng! Eek! Whoosh!”

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

“You fucking bas—!”

It was enough to drive him mad.

His opponent was a blood-brat who was not yet thirty. No matter how unprecedented a monster he was—a man who had received the Sword Saint’s teachings and reached the Supreme Peak realm in his twenties—the gap that came from age could not simply be ignored.

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 not felt any particular sense of danger.

The Sword Saint raised quite a monster. There must have been a reason the Demon Lord warned me before he left. But he’s still far from being able to face this old man. Heh heh heh.

However, it did not take long for the smile at the corners of his mouth to turn into fury.

“Die! I said die!”

With a mad shout, the twin axes slashed down through the air. A net of Force spread wide and fell over Cheongpung’s head.

The Red Slaughter Asura Net.

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

The unparalleled slaughter saint, pursued by the Central Plains Murim as a public enemy, had met his end in an unknown cave in the Qilian Mountains. The three brothers who had gone into hiding to escape the people of the martial world had learned the martial arts manual he left behind and emerged reborn as the Qilian Three Fiends.

And now, the ultimate form of the Red Slaughter Asura Net—a technique no one had been able to perform since the Red Slaughter Demon—was finally being recreated through First Fiend’s twin axes.

Whoooosh!

That was when Cheongpung’s eyes sank deeply as he stared at the red Force net rushing toward him from every direction.

Shaaah—

A cool breeze blew.

At the same time, purple Sword Force wrapped around the straight blade of his sword and sliced diagonally through the net of Force.

Slice!

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

“You—you knew the Red Slaughter Demon’s martial arts?”

No perfect martial art existed.

Every martial art left behind by the Red Slaughter Demon could be called a signature technique, but each clearly had weaknesses. Those weaknesses were a secret known only to the Qilian Three Fiends.

And yet the blood-brat before him had seen through them precisely.

“Answer me this instant!”

Cheongpung’s reply came the next moment. It was short and simple.

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

“……What?”

“Oh, is that why you’re upset?”

Cheongpung tilted his head and continued.

“I could just see it.”

“It showed itself?”

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

“It took longer?”

“Yes. But I don’t think I need to take that long anymore.”

“……!”

First Fiend understood what Cheongpung’s final words meant the next moment.

Ssssh!

A purple flash filled his vision.

First Fiend hurriedly whirled the axes in both hands like lightning against the sword strike that came without warning.

The Red Slaughter Eighteen Axes lacked sophistication in its martial theory, but its destructive power was unparalleled. With more than two jiazi of internal energy added to it, its strength seemed capable of splitting heaven and earth.

However…

Kagagagak!

The smoothly extending blade guided one axe blade aside. Then it struck the other axe that had been driving toward Cheongpung’s side.

KWAANG!

With a thunderous boom, First Fiend’s body staggered. He had effectively slammed the two axes in his own hands together. Even as he retreated, he could only stare in stunned disbelief.

W-What on earth just happened?

Pop!

Cheongpung shot toward First Fiend.

His clear eyes had sunk deeply, and sunset-colored purple energy surged from the blade of his sword.

Whooooom!

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

Th-This is…

There was no mistake.

The Red Slaughter Eighteen Axes.

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

In less than a shichen, 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 tremendous shock had slowed his reactions, but it was not enough to prevent him from countering.

That was what he thought, at least—until Cheongpung’s sword moved.

Whoooong.

A blunt, destructive sword technique descended gently like a falling flower. Thirty-six plum blossoms bloomed from the tip of the sword and fell through the air.

A 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, Force—wrapped around First Fiend’s entire body.

With blood spreading like mist, First Fiend staggered backward, his entire body covered in slashes.

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

“Cough. You… You are…”

“It’s fortunate that it’s raining.”

Cheongpung stepped forward, his voice calm.

“I don’t like the smell of blood.”

Squelch.

Cheongpung’s foot stepped into a red puddle where raindrops and blood had mixed together. First Fiend let out a tearing 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 and no sign 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—”

Slice!

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 want to ask you that instead. Who are you?”

Cheongpung continued in a faintly trembling voice.

“Mungyeong.”