An Unyielding Stand
Sihyeolma was a grotesque sight. Standing nearly seven feet tall, his body was emaciated like a pair of chopsticks, and his arms hung unnaturally low, past his knees. Most chilling of all were his eyes—blood-red light flickered like a viper through narrow, slitted lids.
Yoo Seol-ah's expression hardened. If that man is Sihyeolma... then those bastards are the Blood Mist Unit.
It was the worst possible scenario. The Blood Mist Unit was among the Kunlun Demon Palace's foremost martial forces. For the exhausted Iron Soul Unit, reduced to a mere fifteen men, facing them was virtually impossible.
Why on earth is that monster showing up here?!
What she did not know was that Sihyeolma harbored a bitter grudge against Grand Elder Yong. With relentless obsession, he had spent years waiting for an opportunity to settle the score.
A venomous smirk curved Sihyeolma's lips as his gaze settled on Yoo Seol-ah. "Oho. To think someone would recognize me. You have quite the discerning eye for a little wench." His gaze narrowed further. "Now that I think about it, the Iron Soul Unit's only vice-commander was a woman, wasn't she?"
She offered no reply.
"Now I see. You lot must be that very Iron Soul Unit."
Without hesitation, Yoo Seol-ah whipped a signal rocket from her robes and fired it into the air.
Wheee-sh—crack!
Crimson sparks blossomed across the night sky.
Her face set in stone, she cried out, "The Commander will see the signal and be here shortly! Hold out until then!"
"Understood!"
Yet Sihyeolma merely sneered, entirely unbothered. "How laughable." He waved a dismissive hand. "Kill them all. Leave only the Yong girl breathing."
That casual command was the spark that ignited the slaughter.
With a flurry of swift footwork, roughly fifty members of the Blood Mist Unit surged forward in unison, twin daggers gleaming with eerie, murderous light in their hands.
Watching their charge, Dokgo Jin weighed the odds. A grim battle.
Assessing the situation cold and clear, the unit would not last a single quarter of an hour without him.
In the end, we simply have to hold out until the Commander arrives.
Yet doing so was far from simple. Even if Yeom Baek and the rest joined them this very instant, victory would remain uncertain.
...I'll have to work a little harder, then.
Yoo Seol-ah's shout cut through the tension. "Defensive formation! Circle up and protect Lady Yong!"
"Understood!"
With a resounding chorus, the remaining fifteen warriors of the Iron Soul Unit drew a tight circle around Yong Chae-rin and Han Seo-ryeong.
An instant later, the Blood Mist Unit crashed into them.
Clashing steel screeched as sparks scattered in every direction. The encirclement tightened, plunging the clearing into a suffocating melee.
"Don't let them through! Hold the line!"
Their initial momentum was formidable. Though overwhelmingly outnumbered, the warriors of the Iron Soul Unit had shared life and death for years; they instinctively guarded each other's backs, weaving an organic, interlocking defensive wall. Deflecting the sharp thrusts of the Blood Mist Unit and seizing fleeting openings to counterattack, they proved themselves worthy of their reputation as the Northern Heavenly Alliance's elite. Their defense was so unyielding that even the attacking Blood Mist Unit faltered for a moment.
At this rate... we can hold!
Hope flickered in the warriors' chests. While outright victory was out of reach, they believed they could buy enough time for Commander Yeom Baek to spot the flare and rush to their aid.
However, they had overlooked a crucial truth: after two continuous days of forced marching, their bodies were already pushed past the brink of exhaustion.
Shin Pyeong's pupils quivered violently. Damn it!
He had been certain his sword deflected the blow, but the steel had cleaved only empty air, and the enemy's dagger was already inches from his chest. Accumulated exhaustion had clouded his vision, dulling his sense of distance.
Damn it... I'm too late!
At that fatal instant, beyond evasion or defense—
Thwack!
With a dull pop, the lunging dagger froze dead in midair, arrested as if striking an invisible barrier.
What?
There was no time to ponder the bizarre phenomenon. Acting purely on survival instinct, Shin Pyeong swung his blade, batting the halted dagger aside.
Clang!
Gasping for breath after narrowly escaping death, Shin Pyeong hastily reset his stance. A nearly identical scene played out right beside him.
Clack!
Jo Tae-gwang blinked in dazed disbelief. A blade he had failed to react to had been hurtling straight for his throat, only for a stray pebble flying from nowhere to clip the assailant's wrist. That imperceptible jolt caused the dagger to miss his neck by a hair's breadth.
What was that? Pure luck?
Catching the enemy off balance, he slashed across the man's chest in a fluster and let out a breathless sigh of relief. Of course, none of it was luck.
It was all Dokgo Jin's unseen hand at work. While holding his ground and cutting down foes, his acute senses orchestrated the entire battlefield.
Dokgo Jin flicked the Returning Seal Finger from within his voluminous sleeve or scooped up pebbles with the tip of his boots, silently erasing the blind spots of his comrades while keeping the formation intact. Thanks to his covert intervention, the Iron Soul Unit miraculously evaded fatal strikes and held their ground.
As time wore on, Dokgo Jin's covert movements grew swifter still.
They're enduring better than expected, but...
His comrades' stamina was scraping bottom, while the enemy's assault only grew fiercer. The crises requiring his intervention were becoming far too frequent. Patching every hole alone was approaching the realm of impossibility.
Even so, Dokgo Jin bore the burden without a word.
Fwip! Thump!
Two Blood Mist warriors struck by the Returning Seal Finger stumbled back, sparing the lives of two more Iron Soul swordsmen.
Just until the Commander arrives. With minimal casualties, we only need to last until then.
Though the warriors looked ready to collapse at any second, they stood upright through sheer unbending will. Part of it was the hope that Yeom Baek would arrive, but the Iron Soul Unit's grit was undeniably extraordinary.
As long as you refuse to fall, I will not give up either.
Yet Dokgo Jin could not focus solely on the immediate skirmish. Even while secretly launching the Returning Seal Finger, he never took his eyes off Sihyeolma, who watched from a distance.
If Sihyeolma makes a move before the Commander arrives, none of this matters.
The moment that monster stepped in would mark the squad's greatest peril.
Meanwhile, Yoo Seol-ah spun her twin swords like a pair of windmills, fighting desperately to preserve the perimeter.
"You're all doing great! Keep the formation tight! Just hold on a little longer and the Commander will be here!"
Her encouragement spurred the warriors to roar and thrust their blades forward. Things were not going poorly. In fact, they were holding out remarkably well—almost unnaturally so.
We can do this! So long as that monster doesn't step in.
She, too, remained painfully conscious of Sihyeolma. By all accounts, his martial prowess was rumored to surpass even Yeom Baek's. While she did not accept the rumor blindly, none could dispute that he was a terrifying master.
Just stay there and watch. At least until the Commander gets here...
As the commander on the field, constantly monitoring Sihyeolma prevented Yoo Seol-ah from exerting her full strength. His mere presence cast an oppressive shadow over the battle.
Clang!
Deflecting an incoming dagger, Yoo Seol-ah suddenly felt an icy chill race down her spine.
An ominous premonition seized her, and she snapped her gaze toward where Sihyeolma had been standing.
He was gone.
The crimson silhouette had vanished like mist.
Where did he—
All at once, a freezing draft descended directly overhead.
Before Yoo Seol-ah could even tilt her head up, a catastrophic pressure slammed down as though the very heavens were caving in. It was a force far beyond anything she could hope to parry.
Ah...
Instinctively sensing her demise, Yoo Seol-ah squeezed her eyes shut.
BOOOOM!
A deafening detonation shook the earth, whipping up a violent gale that blasted in every direction. The shockwave was so immense that even the surrounding Blood Mist warriors stumbled back.
Yet no agony came.
Trembling eyelashes lifted, and Yoo Seol-ah slowly peered forward. Astonishingly, a broad, steadfast back blocked the space inches before her.
"...Dokgo Jin?"
In his hand rested Extinction. The sword's usual frosty silver gleam was entirely smothered, replaced by an abyss of pitch-black darkness that swallowed light itself.
Sssssss!
Imbued with Ink Flame Qi, the dark blade cut across the empty air above Dokgo Jin's head, solidly locking against the descending blood-red claws of Sihyeolma. Dokgo Jin's boots had sunk deep into the earth, yet his frame stood unyielding, like an immovable mountain.
A sound transmission brushed Yoo Seol-ah's ears.
[Vice-Commander, I will find a way to hold this man. See to the squad.]
"...What?"
Instead of answering, Dokgo Jin released a sharp kiai and levered Extinction upward.
With a sharp snap of force, Sihyeolma was propelled backward into midair. Tracking his trajectory, Dokgo Jin broke away from the formation to confront him directly.
Sihyeolma twisted lightly in the air and touched down, staring at his palms with an incredulous chuckle. Ha, absurd.
Growing bored when the Iron Soul Unit held out longer than anticipated, he had moved to cleanly wrap up the fight by executing their commander, Yoo Seol-ah. Yet a mere squad member had intercepted his strike.
Though far from his full power, the blow carried more than enough force to take Yoo Seol-ah's life. Had Dokgo Jin not intervened, her head would have rolled across the grass. That a common rank-and-file warrior could take such an attack head-on and emerge unscathed was simply impossible.
Nor was that all.
Sihyeolma's eyes drifted toward the drawn blade of Extinction.
That sword...
His fingertips throbbed with a persistent numbness. Even though he had coated his hands in Blood Yin Gang—the lethal energy born of his signature Blood Yin Corpse Stiffening Art—he had felt a terrifying, bone-chilling sharpness bite into his flesh. It had forced him to yield ground.
That is no ordinary weapon for a common grunt to carry.
He could tell on instinct: that sword was an exceptional divine armament, one of few in the entire realm.
Yet even with a divine weapon, one cannot block my strike without the martial skill to match.
Sihyeolma fixed a frigid glare upon Dokgo Jin, replaying the clash in his mind.
He didn't stop it with raw strength.
At the exact instant of impact, the young man's blade had vibrated with microscopic precision, deflecting and bleeding off his kinetic force to the side. Such a feat was not achieved merely by possessing deep internal energy. It required an advanced, sublime mastery capable of reading the flow and redirecting force—the profound principle of Shifting Flowers Joining Wood.
The Northern Heavenly Alliance recruits capable masters without regard to orthodox or unorthodox origins... Could he be from Wudang?
If he possessed the supreme Taiji principle of overcoming rigidity with softness, it was not entirely inconceivable.
Fascinating.
Sihyeolma's pupils flared with cold killing intent. It was well worth determining whether this was a fluke or genuine mastery.
Vwwoooong!
The crimson Blood Yin Gang cloaking his hands flared darker, pulsing with sinister ferocity. A chilling sneer curled upon Sihyeolma's lips.
"I will make you regret daring to stand in my path."
"Be my guest."
Extinction poised in hand, Dokgo Jin's gaze gleamed razor-sharp.
Dark Sky Martial Emperor
Author | Jeong Cheon
Publisher | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Managing Editor | Editorial Department
Published by | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. - Dreambooks
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