Chapter 30
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Shadows of the Beast Palace
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'As expected.'
From the moment he'd heard about the spies who had infiltrated in secret, he'd had a rough guess.
'There are no beasts here.'
Not even the spirit beasts that the Beast Palace prided itself on, which exceeded all normal standards.
He could make such a bold claim the instant he scaled the wall, piercing through the darkness, for one simple reason.
'If they were here, it wouldn't have been this quiet.'
Even ordinary beasts possessed an overwhelmingly superior sense of smell compared to humans, didn't they?
How much more so the creatures native to that vast Southern Barbarian Great Beast Forest, whose noses were far sharper than those of Central Plains beasts?
No matter how great the Dark Heaven Emperor of the world, he could suppress his presence by regulating his qi, but completely controlling the natural body odor emanating from him was impossible.
Thus, this utter silence, unchanged in the slightest, served as ironclad proof that the Beast Palace spies dispatched here had come without any beasts, relying solely on themselves.
'Is that so surprising?'
Well, even if they had rigorously trained those creatures from a young age, beasts were still just beasts at the end of the day.
There would have been no reason for them to take on the extreme risk of bringing them along when sneaking right up to the nose of mighty Point Cang.
'For me, it's a blessing.'
Thanks to that, he could open the curtains on the clean revenge he'd been hoping for.
Leaning his back flat against the wall, lost in thought under the dim shadows for a time.
'Nine... no, ten?'
Extending his senses like delicate threads to gauge the number of enemies he needed to deal with, Gwang-il soon began moving toward his first target with slow, deliberate steps.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—there were no immediate threats among them at a level that could pose real danger.
Yet even so, he couldn't simply smile in satisfaction.
'Even these mere spies are all peak experts.'
Each one's aura, scattered throughout the rundown manor, was on par with the sect's senior uncles currently deep in secluded training.
He already knew the Beast Palace's immense power all too well, but that didn't stop the bitter taste in his mouth.
'...No need to rush. I'll kill them one by one.'
Suppressing the frustration bubbling up, Gwang-il's eyes gleamed coldly as he silently took position before a door shrouded in darkness.
To overcome this current disadvantage and achieve a satisfying revenge like in his past life, this first move was crucial above all.
'You'll die screaming, without even knowing who killed you.'
All the results would be credited solely to the Beggars' Sect.
He couldn't yet reveal Point Cang's name and put the enemy on high alert.
That was the biggest reason he hadn't informed the sect elders in the Seclusion Cave, despite Old Man An-gae's strong urging about the situation.
With the time left before the coming war far from plentiful, he couldn't afford to interrupt their vital training over something like this.
Of course, if word got out that the Beggars' Sect took credit, the mockery and ridicule would be inevitable.
It would highlight Point Cang's incompetence, long-time lords of Yunnan.
The world's riffraff, ever eager to tear into other sects' weaknesses, would wag their tongues freely.
But that didn't matter.
What truly mattered was who would survive the brutal chaos ahead and seize control.
'Point Cang won't just survive—it will stand tallest, dominating the world.'
By none other than himself, the Dark Heaven Emperor Gwang-il.
Creeeak.
With resolute determination, he quietly turned the doorknob, revealing the room's interior with a faint sound.
A wide futon sprawled out, and a large shadow bolting upright from it.
Pfuk!
"?!"
Thud.
The one who had kicked off the bed at the faint noise in his sleep didn't even manage a dying gasp, pierced through the throat in an instant and sent from this world.
Supporting the fallen enemy's head and laying him back down.
Bang!
Crack!
"Who the hell are you?!"
In vain had he taken precautions—the door shattered in an instant, and a furious giant bellowed savagely from outside.
His eyes, cold as ice, contrasted sharply with his heated shout.
Clearly, he was trying to wake the others who hadn't noticed yet.
It was the expected sequence, but a twinge of regret lingered all the same.
"Krrgh!"
Yet the emotion surging alongside was pure exhilaration.
How could it not be?
He was moments away from shredding this loathsome enemy's massive frame with the sword gripped in his hand.
"Intrud—!"
Boom!
Thud thud thud!
A ferocious strike obliterated the man's upper body without a trace as he tried to shout again.
That was the essence of One Flash Death, the technique that had once made the world tremble in fear under the Evil Path Alliance Leader, the Dark Heaven Emperor Gwang-il.
Splat!
The giant, tall enough to touch the ceiling, met his pathetic end, lower body alone collapsing into a pool of blood.
"Who is it?!"
"Enemies!"
"#$%#%#$%!"
"#$%#$!"
Roaring shouts assaulted his ears from all directions.
"Kuhahaha! Krhahaha!"
The Southern Barbarian tongue, unheard in ages alongside Central Plains speech, finally twisted Gwang-il's lips into a cruel grin.
"Yes. I never planned to let you scum go peacefully from the start."
Squelch squelch.
Mere peak nobodies scraping by in the Southern Barbarian Great Beast Forest.
With the Beggars' Sect beggars outside, eyes blazing and forming a encirclement.
He'd only held back, against his nature, to avoid leaving Point Cang's traces.
"Now that it's come to this, why not just explode every last one of your worthless bodies?"
He halted.
Shoes soaked in sticky blood, Gwang-il took in the eight men arrayed before him in a semicircle.
"...Filthy beast scum who aren't even human."
Whoosh!
"?!"
"!!!"
Each clad in different attire, suggesting they'd been playing their spy roles in various agencies.
But one man wrapped in beast hide processed in true Southern Barbarian style snapped the last thread of Gwang-il's reason.
At the same moment, the blazing killing intent of a mature transcendent expert erupted, making even his original stealthy ambush moot.
"He's a master!"
"Scatter! Scatter!"
"@#$%#!"
Finally realizing the calamity they faced was beyond them, some screamed at the top of their lungs.
"Send word to the palace—!"
Boom!
Thud thud!
"…!"
"Th-this!"
"Not happening. You think I'll just watch?"
Gwang-il, closing to within a zhang, flicked blood from his soaked Point Cang Sword into the air and bared his gleaming white teeth.
"Your deaths will vanish into eternal mystery, and your repulsive palace lord won't easily grasp this incident."
"Y-you...!"
"That's right—die one by one, ignorant of your killer. In the terror of the unknown."
"#$%$%!"
As his icy mutter concluded.
The hide-clad giant, eyes darting for an opening, bellowed in Southern Barbarian.
"Die!"
"Chaa!"
As if on cue, the variously dressed men charged together.
Oddly, no metal weapons—instead, bare-handed martial arts mimicking beasts: claw strikes like descending eagles, tiger paws thrusting forth, boar-like headbutts.
These were the Beast Palace's signature techniques, thick with feral essence, imitating the movements of Great Beast Forest dwellers.
Far too potent and sharp to dismiss as mere beast mimicry—fiercely threatening assaults.
"Krhahaha! Kuhahaha!"
But witnessing these familiar moves, Gwang-il couldn't suppress the laughter spilling from his lips.
"I won't leave a single one alive."
Even amid the onslaught of relentless attacks at close range, his steps remained leisurely on the floor.
This concise footwork, moving only as needed without feints, was a prime contributor to his exalted status alongside One Flash Death.
"N-no!"
"Eeeek!"
Elegant dodges by a hair's breadth or half.
Slipping smoothly to the rear of the panicked, bewildered group.
"Die."
A cold death sentence recited.
And that was it.
Pfwhoosh!
Thud thud thud!
Splat! Thump!
A single swift thrust aimed precisely.
The ash-gray sword qi arcing from its tip stole the life from everyone around in an instant.
All that remained were the mangled, filthy remains of those who'd breathed moments ago.
"Kekeke! What insolence."
But Gwang-il's attention had already shifted.
Fixed like nails on the back of the hide-clad man scaling the distant wall.
"You're the leader, aren't you?"
Unable to speak Central Plains despite sneaking into the agencies for spying.
Fleeing while shoving the others to their deaths.
No doubt about it.
"I'll carve you up slowly."
Flash!
With a voice dripping venom, Gwang-il's form vanished like a ghost into the floor.
He couldn't afford to hand the juiciest prey to the Beggars' Sect beggars by mistake.