Chapter 138
Chapter 138
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 138
Chapter Title: Clash with the Iron Blood Demon Emperor
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Early morning.
Hyeok Mulin naturally opened his eyes and soon rose from bed.
His actions were the same as always.
After washing his body with cold water, he changed into clean training clothes, donned his black dragon robe, and headed outside.
Stepping through the door, Hyeok Mulin gazed up at the sky where the sunlight was gently shining down.
"The weather's especially nice today."
The crisp air unique to mornings on Heavenly Mountain.
The vast sky painted with leisurely drifting, abundant clouds.
Birds perched on branches, chirping away before fluttering their wings and taking flight.
The scenery of the Heavenly Demon Palace that Hyeok Mulin faced was utterly serene.
After savoring the view for a moment, he curved his lips into a smile and slowly began walking.
As he made his way to the courtyard, dozens of demon cultivators were already lined up in formation, awaiting him.
Hyeok Mulin's direct guard unit.
The Divine Demon Blood Death Squad.
Unlike their usual demeanor, they brimmed with tension, as if ready to charge into battle at any moment.
Their sharp eyes burned with resolute will, and thick veins bulged on the hands gripping their weapons.
Even Man Hyobom, who normally overslept and yawned incessantly, stood at rigid attention today.
Tak.
Standing before them, Hyeok Mulin exchanged glances with each member one by one.
And finally, his gaze settled on the squad leader, Ji Wolhon.
'It's been several years already.'
Right after returning to the past, following the Seven Great Demon Clans' patriarchs' dissolution of their regular council and to counter their threat, the first person Hyeok Mulin had sought out was Ji Wolhon, imprisoned in the underground thunder prison.
After that, they had overseen the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad's trials together, selecting the members.
Looking back, the squad had been by his side through most of the countless matters Hyeok Mulin had handled.
And they hadn't rested on their laurels, growing ever stronger.
As Hyeok Mulin advanced, the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad had grown alongside him.
Now, they possessed skills and achievements worthy of their fame as the Cult Leader's direct guard—no one in the cult could ignore them anymore.
"You've all worked hard supporting me all this time."
Hyeok Mulin looked at his squad members and offered words of encouragement.
"Rest easy today."
There would be no need for the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad in today's Demon Martial God Tournament match.
Even if Hyeok Mulin were on the brink of death, intervention by others was absolutely forbidden.
"And."
With a smirk tugging at his lips, Hyeok Mulin took a light step forward and continued.
"I look forward to your continued service."
"...!"
At those words, the squad members' eyes widened momentarily.
Exchanging glances with one another, they soon smiled and responded in loud voices.
"Yes!"
"Understood!"
"Let's go."
With that, Hyeok Mulin began strolling through the Heavenly Demon Palace.
The squad leader and vice-leader of the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad, along with the members, followed in his footsteps.
Thus, they left the Heavenly Demon Palace and the inner fortress, entering the Martial God Arena in the outer fortress.
Meanwhile, the atmosphere inside the arena was chaotic and disorderly.
"Hey, you there! Stop elbowing me!"
"I'm not doing it on purpose!"
"Just squeeze a bit further forward. There might be some space."
"Don't be stingy—let me see too. No more room in the back."
The arena was packed to the brim, without a single gap.
More people had come today than on any other day of the Demon Martial God Tournament—even the stairs and passages were filled with lines of spectators.
A middle-aged man who had barely shoved his way a little further forward let out a sigh of relief and glanced back.
"No end in sight to the crowd pouring in."
"Of course. Where else can you see the Cult Leader's fight again?"
"It's a sight you won't witness twice outside the Demon Martial God Tournament."
The reason the cultists had filled the arena to capacity today was simple.
The news had spread far and wide: yesterday, Cheon Clan's patriarch, Cheon Jungak, had challenged Hyeok Mulin to a duel.
As a result, not only those from the inner and outer fortresses, but even residents outside had flocked to the arena upon hearing the rumors.
In the midst of the utter pandemonium.
"We'll stop admissions here."
Demon cultivators appeared at the entrance and ruthlessly halted the influx of people.
Only then did the atmosphere begin to settle somewhat, allowing those inside to finally catch their breath.
The crowd's gaze, now settled, turned to the duel platform below.
As if yesterday's grand patriarch duel had been a lie, the platform had been impeccably restored overnight.
Fresh azure reinforced stone, laid without a single flaw, gleamed as it awaited new combatants.
Looking at the platform, the spectators felt their hearts race with anticipation once more.
"Hasn't even started, and my palms are already sweating."
"Same here."
"Can't be helped. This isn't just any duel."
"It's practically deciding the cult's future, isn't it?"
"The day the long-standing feud between the Cult Leader and Cheon Clan comes to an end."
Cultists with even a rough knowledge of the cult's affairs couldn't help but anticipate today's duel.
As they chatted while waiting, someone posed a question.
"So, who do you all think will win today?"
"... "
"... "
The direct question prompted a moment of silence.
Then, one by one, they cautiously spoke up.
"Well..."
"If I had to predict."
"The Cult Leader's victory..."
"... is unlikely, I suppose."
"I agree."
The crowd nodded, converging on a single conclusion.
To them, both were undoubtedly awe-inspiring powerhouses, but an insurmountable gap still existed.
"Cheon Clan's patriarch has long been renowned as the cult's supreme master across the world, while the Cult Leader only rose to fame recently."
"Moreover, wasn't it thanks to the patriarch's influence that our current Cult Leader ascended to that position?"
"Even if the Cult Leader matches the patriarch in prowess, his youth means a lack of experience we can't overlook."
"Of course, the Cult Leader's recent feats are impressive..."
"But against an opponent like that, victory might be a stretch."
They arrived at their prediction based on what they deemed reasonable grounds, and it was unanimous.
Not a single one believed Hyeok Mulin would triumph.
Amid these one-sided predictions, Seok Mae appeared on the duel platform.
Standing at its center, he spoke in a subdued tone.
"Everyone, pay attention."
Swipe.
The crowd turned their heads, their gazes converging on him. Chatter from all corners died down in an instant.
As the arena fell silent, he spoke again.
"The finale of the Demon Martial God Tournament. I now announce its commencement."
"Waaaaaaaaah—!"
Cheers erupted like thunder piercing the heavens, filling the arena.
Once the voices subsided, Seok Mae continued.
"As you all know, today's duel will be a single bout."
Thud. Thud.
Cheon Jungak strode onto the platform with domineering steps, revealing his iron-blooded visage.
His mere presence made the spectators flinch, freezing like statues.
And shortly after.
His opponent descended from the air.
Tak.
The Great Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's Cult Leader.
Hyeok Mulin landed lightly as a feather on the platform and took his position opposite Cheon Jungak.
Hyeok Mulin exuded no wild fervor or oppressive pressure.
Yet simply standing there, he effortlessly drew all eyes, emanating a silent dignity blending sharpness and softness.
Hyeok Mulin exchanged glances with Cheon Jungak directly ahead.
Cult Leader and patriarch.
Former father-in-law and son-in-law, facing off.
Of the two staring intently, Hyeok Mulin spoke first.
"I always knew it would come to this someday."
To fully secure the Cult Leader's throne after regressing to the past, this confrontation was inevitable.
"Coexistence is impossible, but annihilation won't be easy. Only when one of us is gone can the cult unite as one."
Cheon Jungak had ultimately chosen strife over peace.
"Cult Leader. Watch closely."
Staring at Hyeok Mulin, Cheon Jungak's eyes gleamed fiercely.
"The cult's peace."
And.
"The Heavenly Demon's throne."
Confirming preparations were complete, Seok Mae declared the duel open and withdrew.
Unlike before, he fully exited the platform, watching from the passage to avoid any interference.
As the duel began, the two slowly advanced toward their frontal opponent.
Without drawing weapons or using footwork techniques, simply walking thud thud, the spectators tilted their heads in confusion.
Then, when they were exactly one zhang apart.
Shrrk—
In an instant, both drew their swords simultaneously, blades flashing.
Kwaang—!
The two swords clashed destructively, kicking up dust.
Moments later, as the dust settled, the standoff revealed itself to all.
Cheon Jungak's Sky Piercing Sword was cloaked in crimson sword aura, while Hyeok Mulin's Heaven-Splitting Demon Sword emanated profound pure-black sword ki.
After a brief crossed lock, their swords began moving fluidly once more.
Chaeng chaeng chaeng chaeng chaeng!
As Hyeok Mulin unleashed Flowing Petal Chaotic Sword, a dazzling sword dance unfolded too fast for ordinary warriors to follow.
Its beautiful trajectory evoked the illusion of swollen petals drifting down from the sky.
Slash slash slash!
But Cheon Jungak sliced every petal in half without mercy, then—without any preliminary motion—thrust instantly toward Hyeok Mulin's heart.
One Sword Heart Pierce.
This lightning-fast strike would fell ninety-nine out of a hundred warriors, but Hyeok Mulin was not one of them.
Sensing it instinctively rather than visually, he leaped back while arching his body to evade.
Cheon Jungak followed with Eight Meridians Piercing Demon Sword, targeting all vital meridians with razor-sharp thrusts.
Facing the relentless assault, Hyeok Mulin countered in an unimaginable way.
Thrust thrust thrust—!
He didn't block the thrusts with his blade flat.
Instead, mirroring the stance, he countered thrust with thrust at the tip, parrying the sword intent.
The slightest error would have severed his hand clean off.
It was swordsmanship backed by astonishing audacity and flawless execution.
Watching this, Cheon Jungak spoke in an intrigued tone.
"Even your swordsmanship has improved."
He knew Hyeok Mulin's realm had surged.
But advancement in specific techniques like swordsmanship was another matter.
No matter the realm, without corresponding insight into the arts, it was useless.
Yet Hyeok Mulin had reached new heights in swordsmanship, flawlessly countering his techniques.
But could he handle this?
Guuung—
Cheon Jungak drew forth a colossal sword aura reaching the heavens.
He unleashed dozens of sword strikes toward it.
Seventy-two sword auras split off, raining down on Hyeok Mulin from above.
Cheon Jungak's first ultimate technique.
Death Spirit Seventy-Two Swords.
Kwagwagwagwang!
As the sword auras crashed down, engulfing Hyeok Mulin, an earthquake-like roar accompanied the rising dust.
But moments later.
Whoosh—
Hyeok Mulin emerged unscathed from the dust via Extreme Swift Step.
Closing in on Cheon Jungak, he launched a counterattack.
Unleashing Ghost Wind Eighteen Swords, eighteen strikes hammered Cheon Jungak directly.
They came in near-simultaneous waves, separated by a fingernail's width of difference—blindingly fast.
Yet Cheon Jungak swiftly traced a circle with his sword, blocking them all.
In that instant, Hyeok Mulin spotted a gap.
The center of the circle.
A sword path bypassing the hand gripping the blade, straight for the throat.
Thus, without hesitation, as Hyeok Mulin thrust toward it.
Paeang—!
A sharp sword strike escaped the circle's edge, targeting Hyeok Mulin's heart in kind.
Cheon Jungak's sword raced toward Hyeok Mulin's heart.
Hyeok Mulin's sword toward Cheon Jungak's throat.
The crossed blades hurtled sharply toward their marks.
Kwaaaaaang!
A colossal impact followed, shaking heaven and earth with a deafening roar that echoed through the arena.