Chapter 31
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Massacring the Beast Palace Spies
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"Hm!"
Was it because his mind had been wholly consumed by a fury as vast as a tidal wave?
Or perhaps because he had been lost in dark ecstasy while slaying his blood enemies, whom he now faced across decades?
His senses had dulled for a moment, it seemed.
'These bastards...!'
Uwaaaaaah!
Haaap!
The moment he vaulted over the wall to crush the fleeing bastard's final hope.
Gwang-il couldn't help letting out a small groan at the chain of events unfolding over a hundred zhang away.
A hundred beggars, led by Division Leader No An-gae.
They were completely surrounded by a mysterious horde and fending off a brutal onslaught.
'So they're not just some pathetic spies after all.'
Of course.
If spies had been scattered across all of Yunnan Province, the largest contingents would naturally be placed in the capital Kunming and this key branch here.
And between those two, this branch—tasked with monitoring and checking the Point Cang Sect, a prime target—would be the more critical stronghold.
Even so, it was still hard to swallow that they had hundreds of heads deployed.
'There wasn't anything suspicious about the ones I killed.'
He had swept them all away before they could do anything, save for one.
So then.
'Beggars' Sect.'
In the pitch-black dead of night, over a hundred beggars had gathered in droves.
That must have caught the Beast Palace scum's eyes for sure.
'...Maybe it's for the best.'
He had nearly assumed that the less-than-ten he killed were the entirety of the spies dispatched to the branch.
"#$%#$%#!"
Right then, the leather-clad leader halted his flight, turned back, and bellowed something furious.
His momentum brimmed with smug triumph.
From the way he bared his yellowed teeth in a gaping maw, he clearly thought the tide had fully turned.
"Idiot bastard."
Sharpening his gaze, Gwang-il saw that the horde locked in fierce combat with the Beggars' Sect numbered around two hundred—roughly double.
Most were merely first-rate, but even so, there were plenty manifesting tangible qi from fists or claws.
"Block them! Block, you beggars!"
Just seeing No An-gae screaming himself hoarse made the Beggars' Sect's dire disadvantage obvious.
That must be why the stupid beast was so cocky.
"Kekekeke!"
Of course, Gwang-il felt no emotion whatsoever.
No transcendent experts anywhere, which proved that swarming rabble were just weaklings he could crush anytime.
"I'll sweep them all away."
He simply drew the sword hilt calmly to his dantian with cold resolve.
"#$#$%!"
Did this bold stance and leisure irk him?
The leader twisted his face in rage, baring killing intent, then reversed course and charged.
Ten fingers crooked like claws grasping the air.
And from them protruded claw-qi about a chi long—not quite a foot.
Behind those ten milky-white, opaque streams of ferocious assault trailed nine more at the same level.
He must have summoned his peak experts via sound transmission during that brief flight.
And each one outclassed those Gwang-il had just slain.
The ones killed in the compound were fresh breakthroughs to peak.
These charging foes fully embodied seasoned peak experts.
Not satisfied with that?
"Ha!"
Suddenly, twenty men burst from the dark alleys on the flank.
They raced toward him in a line, each radiating mature peak auras.
"These vermin dare...!"
For mere regional spies, this was excessive—enough to rival a mid-tier sect.
Even a transcendent expert would find thirty peak experts burdensome.
Common murim wisdom held that one transcendent could handle at most around twenty peaks at once.
"Kuhuhuhu!"
Yet Gwang-il, facing them all, couldn't suppress his rising laughter.
"Pathetic."
Common murim wisdom?
What did mortal shackles matter to him?
Even before breaking through to Flower Realm, as a transcendent, he had battled more peaks than this in desperate struggles.
Before unifying the Evil Faction, he had fought countless outnumbered deathmatches on the knife's edge!
"Brings back old memories. Feels good."
The leader charging ahead, eyes blazing like will-o'-the-wisps, was now just three zhang away.
"Truly nostalgic."
Yet Gwang-il's thick smile lingered undiminished.
'Once I wipe these out, the beggars can breathe easy.'
Thirty peak experts.
The Beggars' Sect was outnumbered and outmatched in elites.
To the beggars being swept away, this would feel like rain after drought.
"Gwang-il, Junior Brother!"
Did No An-gae think he was in greater peril?
Mid-battle with two peak experts, the Division Leader screamed bloody murder.
"Worry about your own front."
Who was worrying whom?
He murmured the retort inwardly.
At that instant, half a zhang away, Gwang-il thrust his prepared strike at the enemy lunging with vicious claws.
One sword against ten milky claw-qi streams.
The result was obvious to him.
Puuk!
"...Gaaahhh!"
A swift sword-flash, arriving first despite starting later.
That sufficed.
"Hmph."
The sharp claws fell two cun short of Gwang-il's flesh.
The infinitesimal gap stemmed purely from speed disparity.
Chwaaaak!
Puhwaaaak!
A cold slash split the leader's thick neck wide.
That was it.
Thud! Splurt splurt!
Only the corpse's pathetic spasms, gushing thick blood, proved it once lived.
"Th-that...!"
"#$%$#!"
"Uwaaaah! Kill him!"
"You bastard!"
A duel ended in an instant, without a chance to fight back.
The peak experts trailing the leader erupted in massive rage.
Quite the spectacle for Gwang-il, calmly seeking his next prey.
'Was this guy some key figure?'
Too frenzied for mere branch leader death.
'Doesn't matter.'
None would see tomorrow's sun anyway.
What point in weighing trash?
Especially an unknown, not among Beast Palace notables in his memory.
'Just kill them all.'
With that, Gwang-il drew sword to dantian again.
And about an incense stick's time later.
"Hoo."
"Th-that...!"
"Insane!"
As Gwang-il exhaled lightly, battered Beggars' Sect survivors sent him fearful glances.
From their view, it was warranted.
Bathed head to toe in gore around him.
Bodies littered like trash heaps, limbs vanished without trace.
Over two hundred strong.
From first-rate to seasoned peaks—Beast Palace spies rivaling a mid-tier sect—annihilated in moments.
Over half felled by ash-gray sword flashes.
'Gwang-il...!'
Especially No An-gae, saved from two peers—his shock dwarfed others.
Their savage onslaught had nearly broken him.
Yet he had clearly seen amid it.
'That sword... what?!'
Gwang-il versus thirty peaks.
In dire straits, his terrifying ash-gray sword-qi spectacle.
It eclipsed the dark, unforgettable even as he gasped from wounds.
'No Point Cang sword.'
No, unheard of in any righteous sect worldwide.
Such efficient, murderous strikes unfit for righteous cultivation.
'What in the world...?'
Like fusing Evil Faction's vicious acupoint sword arts with assassin sects' death-only blades?
'Impossible!'
He felt he had glimpsed an abyssal impossibility.
Had Gwang-il swept with sword beams via transcendent might, less shocking.
Or iconic Sun-Piercing Sword techniques—plausible, given his prior proof.
But this? No.
'......He looked happy.'
Like a child ripping wings and legs from a bug smaller than its palm.
Facing thirty peaks, Gwang-il's face shone with beaming grins throughout.
That cruel laughter as ash-gray qi riddled bodies...
Shiver!
Chilling even in retrospect.
And after? He finished his share, rushed here, hunted scrubs like prey.
Targeting only vital points for maximum agony.
That soaked him in sticky blood—meticulously stabbing each one.
'Must investigate his past Beast Palace grudge thoroughly.'
Where he lived pre-sect, family—probe it all.
Conveniently, this incident warranted headquarters support.
'Gwang-il.'
No An-gae's eyes darkened deeply, staring at the sky-gazing Gwang-il.
Separate from new schemes in mind, he roused his weary body for cleanup.
"Tend the wounded! Able-bodied, gather usable loot! Hurry!"
Still deep night.
The Beast Palace's secret branch for Central Plains conquest lay utterly shattered.