Chapter 143. Myeol Sa Army (3)
'What is it?'
Akwang scanned his surroundings.
Chirp chirp.
Birds sang here and there in the mountains, and the gentle trickle of a stream already tickled his ears. Amid that peaceful atmosphere, a sharp glint of hidden killing intent flashed in his keen eyes.
'This sensation...'
It was strange. It felt just like a tiger stalking its prey, watching him intently.
Of course, it was merely a feeling. There was no evidence, no reason.
'Is someone watching us?'
Impossible. This was the southernmost tip of the Daebyeol Mountains in Henan Province. Not even the Martial Alliance—or a single hunter—would venture into this remote wilderness. It wasn't due to treacherous terrain. This valley was a hidden sanctuary invisible even from the mountaintops. No one could stumble upon it by chance.
'...'
Akwang let out a sigh.
"What's wrong, Pavilion Master?"
"Nothing."
It seemed his nerves were just on edge for no reason. The Yin Death Squad's hundred elite troops were scanning every direction like ghosts. He trusted his men. Though they operated deep in urban shadows, the squad's members were adept at mountain warfare too. The reason? Most were former bandits.
The world scorned bandits, but none were more dangerous in the mountains. Once bandits gained power and opened their eyes, they became an army.
And thus, the Yin Death Squad was an army.
"Pavilion Master."
"What?"
"That guy back there... you sure he's okay?"
Akwang glanced behind him. There rode a burly middle-aged man on a sturdy horse. His upper body, arms crossed, was bound tightly with iron chains. He was enormous. Matted hair obscured his face, hiding his expression. But the bizarre pressure he exuded was unmatched by any in the squad.
"He's no ordinary danger," said Sangyo, the squad's second-in-command, his face more serious than ever. "His energy is savagely intense. I don't know the extent of his power, but... it feels like a tiger prowling right behind him."
A tiger, huh.
Akwang shook his head.
"A tiger, yes. Half-mad, though."
Sangyo's face hardened.
"I've wanted to ask since he arrived. Who the hell is he?"
"His disciple."
"Pardon? His?"
"Yes."
"You mean... gasp! No way?!"
A subtle fear crept into Akwang's expression.
"They say he lost his mind to qi deviation while cultivating. But he's not completely insane. Whatever life he led, he obeys commands from anyone who calls his name without question."
"Is that even possible?"
"It's a direct message from Him. No reason not to believe it."
"Whoa..."
"They said the odds of him regaining sanity are zero. Pity, but since he's a useful beast, give him a try."
If true, it was like acquiring a tiger loyal to commands.
"He doesn't speak empty words. Feed him on time, and manage him well from now on."
"Y-yes, sir."
A sinister killing intent flickered across Akwang's face.
'We're the lowest of the Black Path's Thirty-Six Gates. Handing us a ticking bomb like this... If we pull off this mission, it means He'll back our main sect.'
Thinking of Him, Akwang felt his palms grow slick with sweat.
He was the myth of the black path martial world. For three hundred years, no black path figure had reached the pinnacle of the world's experts. Everyone in the black path should rejoice, but they couldn't—not purely.
'He shows no mercy. We absolutely cannot fail.'
Still, He rarely assigned missions. And when a faction succeeded, He granted immense power.
One misstep meant death. Success brought vast wealth and honor.
'Just hold out a few months.'
How much time passed? As they passed the valley entrance and neared the target amid the underbrush...
'...?!'
Akwang's eyes sharpened.
'What the...?'
From within the target area came restrained energies. He couldn't pinpoint the number, but fewer than their own forces, for sure.
'This energy...'
Akwang frowned.
'What the hell? These dullards?'
The mere presence of anyone at the target was shocking enough. And most seemed to match Sangyo's level of skill. Yet... they didn't feel threatening. Their arts were impressive, but their proficiency lagged behind.
'Rookies?'
Sangyo, sensing it too, spoke up. "Pavilion Master. Over there..."
"I feel it."
The Yin Death Squad halted.
Surprise crossed Sangyo's face. "Someone's there. Did the Martial Alliance find us?"
Akwang's eyes turned icy. This was only their third visit. Even the Alliance had slim odds of discovering this hideout.
But...
"Move in."
"Pavilion Master!"
"We've come this far—they've sensed us too. Check who they are first. Everyone, cover your faces."
The leader's command was absolute. The squad donned black masks, concealing everything below the eyes.
Under Akwang's lead, they advanced.
Whoosh!
Finally, in Akwang's view appeared some fifty young men and women clustered together. He—and the entire Yin Death Squad—recognized them at a glance.
'Nine Great Sects!'
At that moment, Yeon Hojeong's cold voice echoed through the valley.
"Annihilate the enemy."
Despite the order, the later-generation disciples panicked, glancing at each other.
Then, one moved first.
Bam!
Cheok Gang shot forward at terrifying speed, unleashing Point Cang's Divided Light Body Technique. His stance screamed battle-ready.
Akwang's eyes flashed. His hand blurred to his waist.
Clang!
"Kuh!"
One clash decided the power gap. Cheok Gang was hurled backward at frightening speed.
Akwang leveled his at him. "Scum from the Nine Sects."
A shocking statement. Black path folk feared the Nine Great Clans and Eight Great Alliances regardless of strength—they knew the power.
But Akwang was different. The entire Yin Death Squad was.
They'd staked their lives on this mission from the start. They hadn't taken it without resolve.
'Doesn't matter.'
Shocked but quickly composed, Akwang assessed their forces. A few decent ones, but most green in real combat.
He'd teach them that mastering arts didn't make you strong.
"Don't let a single one escape."
Boom!
Their movements were different. Unlike the hesitant Nine Sect rookies, the squad scattered instantly at Akwang's word, encircling from all sides. Over a hundred sealed escape routes in seconds. Veterans at this, they held positions, eyes gleaming with thick killing intent.
Yeon Hojeong's eyes gleamed.
'Impressive.'
Individually weaker than the disciples, but their formation skills were top-notch. No match for Black Emperor Castle elites, but deadly to the battle-inexperienced.
"You bastard!"
Thud thud!
Cheok Gang, retreating, charged Akwang again. His sword brimmed with potent qi, seeking to redeem his mistake.
Akwang bellowed, "Bury them all!"
Clang clang clang!
The squad drew weapons, tightening the net ferociously.
"Damn it!"
"W-what the hell are these guys?!"
Panicking disciples. Then Song Yeon-gyeong shouted,
"Attack! They're here to kill us!"
Her words snapped them awake.
"All Ami swordswomen, counter with Buddhist Light Zen Spear!"
"Yes!"
Fifteen Ami spear users thrust vigorously at the approaching foes.
Killing blades met Ami Buddhist Light Zen Spears head-on.
Clang clang clang!
"Arghhh!"
"Kill them all!"
The fight intensified in moments.
Yun Ho yelled, "Dong Ho! Hwasan Two Forms Array!"
"Y-yes?!"
"Move now... damn it!"
Clang!
Yun Ho swung swiftly.
'Impossible!'
Hwasan Six Harmonies Sword was basic yet versatile, executable anytime. But it was blocked on the first strike—by three squad members simultaneously.
Inconceivable how three blocked one sword.
"Urk!"
Clang! Clang! Thud!
Yun Ho leaped into their midst, swinging wildly.
"S-senior brother!"
Slash!
"Agh!"
A sword gash marred Dong Ho's shoulder. He twisted instinctively, surviving. Otherwise, his shoulder would've been pierced clean through.
He hadn't even seen the attack.
Dong Ho's sword reacted on reflex.
Splurt!
Astonishingly, Dong Ho killed first. His blade slit a squad member's throat in one stroke, dyed red.
Gasp!
Dong Ho paled. In desperate self-defense, he'd killed. His first real battle. The horror of first blood.
Staggering, he collapsed, shock shattering his mind.
The squad didn't miss the broken prey.
Boom!
Amid the melee, four closed on Dong Ho, swords descending.
He stared blankly at his blade, eyes trembling in chaos and trauma.
Then, a fluid sword form blocked them.
Ching ching ching!
Songmun High Sword traced a Taiji circle, deflecting three strikes.
Thud!
"Guh!"
Dong Ho's eyes widened. "O-Ok Cheong Taoist!"
Ok Cheong stood before him, a squad sword buried in his thigh. Unthinkable for his realm.
Battle's brutality tensed his shoulders; overextending to save Dong Ho warped his usual form viciously.
Ok Cheong gritted his teeth, thrusting out.
Boom!
Mixed Origin Qi in Taiji Landscape Strike sent one foe flying, vomiting blood.
But he lived—Ok Cheong instinctively eased his hand at the end.
Capable of killing, yet holding back. The deadliest flaw in combat: mercy.
Not just him. Yeoguk, Song Yeon-gyeong—none here responded properly.
They barely held against the power gap, but the squad's relentless assault sowed constant panic.
This wouldn't last. Few survive unprepared bloodbaths.
Trembling, Dong Ho cried, "Y-Yeon young master! What the hell is this?! Do something...!"
His face drained white.
Yeon Hojeong stood arms crossed. Around him lay three squad members with crushed skulls, casually strewn.
His gaze on Dong Ho remained icy.
He spoke slowly.
Kill if you don't want to die.
Spluuurt!
Crimson blood blanketed the sky.