The Seven-Colored Treasure Pagoda (8)
Crash!
Jin Somyeong, having unleashed his lightning movement art, shot toward Wi Munseok.
In the instant the distance between them collapsed to nothing, the look in Wi Munseok’s eyes changed. He had been frozen in the posture of thrusting his staff, but now he glared at Jin Somyeong with the eyes of a beast and began, slowly, to move.
In the truest sense, it had taken him only a blink to shake off the recoil of that single devastating strike.
He’s absurdly tough.
It was exactly what one would expect from a practitioner of Law-Body Dual Cultivation whose specialty was close combat. His physical durability was terrifying. But no matter how resilient a body was, it still had limits.
The time it took Jin Somyeong to reach him was a mere fraction of a breath. Wi Munseok had yet to fully recover, and for Jin Somyeong, that was enough.
Mana raced through his meridians and transformed into Sword Qi. A haze-like current of killing sharpness whirled together and condensed at the tip of his blade, taking on the shape of an awl.
Gathering all its destructive force into a single point, Jin Somyeong thrust without hesitation toward Wi Munseok’s brow.
Thunk!
The sword, which had been flying forward at blinding speed, stopped.
Wi Munseok had gritted his teeth, let go of his staff, and thrust his left palm forward like a shield.
Jin Somyeong poured mana into the blade buried in that palm. He meant to amplify the sharpness and sever the hand in one stroke.
"Graaaargh!"
At that moment, Wi Munseok roared like a beast and detonated his blood energy.
Thick veins bulged across the skin of his entire body, and his muscles swelled to nearly twice their original size. Jin Somyeong had intended to cut straight through his palm, but it proved far from easy. An enormous pressure clamped down on the blade, as if it had been wedged between boulders.
What a stupid amount of muscle.
Even pulling the sword free was difficult. The swollen muscle gripped and dragged at the edge like living flesh with a will of its own.
If this turned into a contest of raw strength, Jin Somyeong would be at a disadvantage, so he simply let go of the sword.
A swordsman abandoning his sword?
That was exactly the look in Wi Munseok’s eyes, but Jin Somyeong paid it no mind. In battle, only one thing mattered: victory.
Besides, his true sword was not the Cheonjung Dark-Rock Sword. It was Mugeuk.
In a moment carved out from the span of an instant, Jin Somyeong thought, This is the turning point.
It was the crucial moment that would decide winner and loser.
He summoned Mugeuk from within the sword and wrapped the spirit around his fist.
Fffft!
Like throwing a jab, he drove out a light punch—but into that fist, he packed everything he had built up until now.
Clang!
He struck the solar plexus, a lethal vital point, yet it rang like steel. A blood-red curtain gathered over Wi Munseok’s skin had blocked the blow.
For one brief instant, Wi Munseok’s entire face twisted, perhaps from pain. Then he sneered.
"Not even close!"
The taunting voice transmission came as if meant to break Jin Somyeong’s will.
He had struck a defenseless enemy’s vital point and still failed to inflict a proper wound. It would not have been strange for his resolve to waver.
But Jin Somyeong’s eyes remained steady. He had never assumed Wi Munseok would be easy to kill in the first place.
Whoosh!
He watched the counterpunch—an enormous fist the size of a cauldron lid—as it flew toward his face, and at the last possible instant, he tilted his head aside.
The straight punch, packed with monstrous force, grazed past his earlobe.
Boom!
The air burst right beside him. If that fist had connected, his head would have exploded before he could even resist.
It felt as though death had licked the back of his neck. The sensation was chilling—and exhilarating.
Am I going insane?
He answered the thought as soon as it arose.
Insane is fine. As long as I win.
Far from retreating, he took a step closer and threw another punch.
The moment his fist collided with the red curtain gathered over Wi Munseok’s skin, Jin Somyeong poured Sword Qi through Mugeuk with the feeling that he himself had become the blade.
Crack!
A fracture appeared in the red curtain. It was a tiny gap, but enough.
He forced open a crevice too narrow for even a needle, broke it wider, and poured in the lightning of his inner image, cultivated through Cheonroedochegyeol.
Sssssss…!
The sound of cooking flesh rose with an acrid stench.
He had tried to burn Wi Munseok’s heart by injecting lightning qi through his solar plexus, but even that was stopped.
"Grrrgh!"
Wi Munseok’s face twisted into that of a murderous demon as he resisted, spewing mana of his own.
Crackle, crackle, crack!
His mana and the lightning tore at each other in a frenzy, each trying to overwhelm the other, yet neither gained the upper hand.
Ha. His body really is monstrous.
Even with such a violent clash taking place inside his body, Wi Munseok did not so much as blink.
It was an astonishing sight, but Jin Somyeong did not hesitate for even a heartbeat. He kept moving.
After all, this exact situation was what he had been aiming for from the start.
In the instant Wi Munseok’s movements became painfully sluggish under the paralysis of lightning—
The tyrannical divine ability that had reduced even a Golden Core cultivator to ash during Jin Somyeong’s Qi Condensation days surged into motion.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Mana gushed from his heart in a steady pulse. The energy raced through his meridians, crossed his spleen, and by the time it reached his lungs, an incomprehensible destructive force had taken root within the power that had multiplied exponentially.
Tap.
With a motion as natural as flowing water, he extended the fist he had raised on a faint breeze.
From the outside, it looked exactly like the punches he had thrown before—but within it lay a divine ability capable of annihilating a mountain.
"…!"
Had Wi Munseok sensed something the moment Condensing Light to Extinguish Dust activated? His expression hardened completely.
The instant dragon-shaped markings surfaced across the skin of his body—
Rumble!
His aura multiplied severalfold in the blink of an eye. Even the lightning qi rampaging through his body was driven back all at once. He broke free of paralysis and regained his full speed.
In that situation, Wi Munseok chose not to evade, but to counterattack.
He thrust his fist, wrapped in the form of a dragon, straight toward Condensing Light to Extinguish Dust.
The strongest blows each of them possessed collided head-on.
———!
An intense light devoured every sound.
Ah.
Jin Somyeong, whose consciousness had cut out for a fraction of a second, flinched awake.
He opened his eyes amid pain that felt as though a hammer had struck his nerves, and saw a huge, sunken crater before him.
Forcing his slack jaw to move, he bit the tip of his tongue.
He used the sharp pain like a lifeline, wrenching back the consciousness that threatened to fade into darkness.
What happened to him?
The moment his senses returned, he checked his enemy first.
Wi Munseok, who had clashed with him, was literally in tatters, buried in the ground. Centered around his right arm, part of his upper body had vanished as if gouged away.
The faint twitching told Jin Somyeong he was still alive.
He took Condensing Light to Extinguish Dust and still didn’t die.
Enemy or not, at this point it was simply impressive. Jin Somyeong clicked his tongue inwardly and assessed his own condition.
…At least my limbs are still attached.
Jin Somyeong was far from fine. He was every bit as much of a wreck as Wi Munseok.
The skin all over his body was bright red, as though burned, and split open like drought-cracked earth. And that was not all. The left hand that had unleashed Condensing Light to Extinguish Dust was twisted in a direction it was never meant to bend.
By the time he grasped the situation, the thought that filled his mind was absurdly simple.
I won.
In truth, it was not wrong.
Both of them lay collapsed on the ground, unable to rise, but Jin Somyeong had cultivated the Ojangbaekryeongyeol.
And the greatest advantage of the Ojangbaekryeongyeol? Its overwhelming regenerative power.
Hoo.
First, he focused on his breathing.
He gathered the mana that had hit rock bottom and converted it into blood energy. He reconnected torn meridians and regenerated ruined muscle and bone.
How many seconds passed?
Crack, crackle!
His left arm, which had been bent backward, returned to its proper shape. Along with a throbbing pain, sensation began to return to his fingertips.
If Wi Munseok had been awake to see it, the speed of that recovery would have been enough to draw cold sweat from him.
At this rate, the victor was obvious, but Jin Somyeong did not let his guard down.
Where’s the last one?
Wi Munseok was not the only enemy.
There had been three cultivators from the Yongsang Demonic Palace. Since Jin Somyeong had ambushed and dealt with one of them the moment the battle began, he needed to check what the remaining one was doing.
Boom!
He turned his gaze toward the faint sound of an explosion.
Three people, including Madam Ryeo, were pressing the cultivator from the Yongsang Demonic Palace. Even though it was three against one, the fight remained evenly matched.
Was the Yongsang Demonic Palace cultivator strong enough to face all three of them? No.
Poison?
The three of them had black blood leaking from the corners of their mouths, and at a glance, it was obvious they were not in a normal state. Most likely, the poison or restriction implanted in them while they were enslaved had flared up.
In any case, the situation was not bad. If time continued to pass like this, victory was assured.
Jin Somyeong was about to focus on recovering again when the Yongsang Demonic Palace cultivator fighting the three suddenly gritted his teeth. He glared in Jin Somyeong’s direction as if he had made a decision, then kicked off the ground.
It seemed he intended to kill Jin Somyeong before he could recover.
"No!"
Madam Ryeo cried out in alarm, but the cultivator took her spell head-on with his bare body and charged like a madman.
"Graaaargh!"
He ignored even the loss of his right ear and rushed forward with brutal force, like a beast that had lost its cub.
His eyes, filled with killing intent, held only Jin Somyeong.
As the distance closed moment by moment, Jin Somyeong quietly shut his eyes and concentrated.
Crack!
One hundred thousand golden beads drifting through his inner image vanished at once, and an invisible wave swept through his entire body.
In that instant, the recovery power tempered by the Ojangbaekryeongyeol exploded to a whole new level. He had used the Boundless Great Ability he had saved precisely for a situation like this.
Before he could blink, the cracked skin across his body restored itself as if time had reversed.
Clench.
Beginning with the grip strength that silently returned to his hands, the muscles throughout his body recovered.
Jin Somyeong regained his fighting strength at a monstrous speed and sprang to his feet.
The Yongsang Demonic Palace cultivator, who had been charging like a fiend, gradually slowed.
One hundred meters, fifty meters, twenty meters…
The closer he came, the more his steps slowed, until at last they stopped entirely.
"…"
He looked back and forth between Wi Munseok, who was still collapsed, and Jin Somyeong. His eyes shook violently.
As if witnessing something impossible, his voice trembled in fine fragments.
"How are you already…? What divine art did you cultivate for your regeneration to be so strong?"
The killing intent vanished as if washed away. All that remained in him was doubt and fear.
He stared at Jin Somyeong as though looking at a monster, now that he had outwardly recovered to a normal state. Since he understood body refinement well, he seemed to recognize just how irrational this was.
"Are those your last words?"
"…"
For one brief moment, the man stood blankly. Then his gaze hardened.
He charged with an expression that showed he had accepted death, and in light of that spirit, Jin Somyeong ended it in a single stroke.
Slash!
He swung his right hand, wrapped in Mugeuk, like a sword. Silver Sword Qi resembling moonlight drew a line through the air.
Thud.
The headless corpse collapsed.
The moment it fell, Jin Somyeong kicked off the ground. Wi Munseok had just woken up and was staggering to his feet, and Jin Somyeong rushed straight at him.
"You—!"
He truly was a vicious bastard. Even then, Wi Munseok swung his remaining arm like a club and tried to counterattack.
Of course, it meant little.
From the crown of his head, through his dantian, down to his groin, Jin Somyeong brought down Sword Qi and split him vertically in two.
He killed him cleanly, leaving no possibility of resurrection.
At the same time Jin Somyeong clashed with Wi Munseok and his party, a commotion arose in the innermost depths of the Yongsang Demonic Palace, a place that had been quiet to the point of tedium.
"What did you just say?"
The Supreme Elder of the Yongsang Demonic Palace, a muscular old man, asked again as though he could not believe his ears. The disciple sweating coldly before him squeezed his eyes shut.
"Elder Jeok’s soul lamp has gone out."
A soul lamp was a special dharma treasure resembling a candle, crafted by placing a fragment of one’s soul within it.
It had various effects, but it was most often used to confirm the life or death of a disciple who was far away.
In other words, to put it simply, if a soul lamp went out, it meant the owner of that lamp was dead.
"Elder Jeok… is dead?"
The Supreme Elder stood blankly for a long while, as if he found it impossible to believe. Then he gritted his teeth.
His face twisted as he held back his fury, and he glared at the disciple.
"There had better be no falsehood in your words."
"How could this disciple dare report a lie? I saw the soul lamp extinguish and came here immediately."
"…"
"It… it seems he met with disaster inside the Seven-Colored Treasure Pagoda."
The Supreme Elder’s breathing grew rough.
He was an old man whose appearance was closer to beast than human, a man one could believe had been forged from steel itself. As his rage mounted, the ground around him trembled.
"What in the world was Great Elder Wi Munseok doing to allow Elder Jeok to die?"
How would the disciple know? He could only lower his head in silence. The Supreme Elder, his face flushed crimson as he shouted, abruptly rose to his feet.
"I will see it for myself."
He transformed into a streak of light and soared into the sky.
He intended to go to the hall where the soul lamps were kept and confirm it with his own two eyes.