Chapter 207
Chapter 207
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 207
Chapter Title: Heavenly Demon Divine Cult!
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Heavenly Demon Divine Cult!
The moment he heard those words, Munyang's heart pounded fiercely.
For Munyang, who had spent most of his life sheltered in the Nine Great Sects and the Murim Alliance's greenhouse, the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult could be summed up in a single phrase.
A horde of evil lurking beyond the Central Plains, stirring at any moment.
As far as he knew, the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was a band of villains gazing down on the Central Plains from just one step away.
Yet now, he himself stood directly in that realm beyond the Central Plains.
In a way, it was even more astonishing that he had spent years in Xinjiang without ever crossing paths with the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult until this moment.
But.
"How can I believe that?"
Munyng asked with suspicious eyes.
Ibija smirked.
"You don't know this place very well, do you?"
Strictly speaking, Munyang had lived in Xinjiang longer than Ibija.
But while Ibija had been stationed at Heavenly Mountain—the heart of Xinjiang—Munyng had holed up in a remote corner, so the information they could access differed vastly.
"No one in Xinjiang dares impersonate our cult."
No one would even attempt it.
Everyone knew the devastating backlash that would follow.
"......"
Munyng carefully scanned the subordinates.
They wore the black uniforms he had specified, but their faces were all unfamiliar.
And that was not the only difference.
His previous underlings had exuded a sleazy, disorganized aura, but these men radiated sharp, intimidating pressure.
'So this is the presence of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's demons.'
Meeting them for the first time, Munyang found them impressive and spoke up again.
"The Demonic Cult must be bored out of its mind. Mobilizing dozens just to take down a single little mountain stronghold."
He tossed out the words to provoke them, but Ibija replied with a impassive face.
"You're right—this many weren't necessary."
"Why the sudden honesty...?"
"If you were just some ordinary stronghold leader."
"...!"
Munyng shot Ibija a wary glare.
Had he been found out?
No, impossible.
Since arriving in Xinjiang, he had never once used Jongnam Sect swordsmanship, nor given any hint that he hailed from the Central Plains.
Yet conviction filled the man's voice, stirring unease in Munyang's chest.
Munyng's eyes darted about.
Ibija issued a stern warning.
"Don't even think about it. The imprisoned villagers have already descended the mountain safely."
Last night, after being locked in the prison, Ibija had divided his unit into three teams.
They could have stormed the chieftain and ended it swiftly, but he wanted everything handled meticulously, without a single flaw.
First team.
They freed the dragged-in villagers and those already imprisoned, guiding them down the mountain.
These were devoted cultists who had staked their lives to get captured alongside the bandits, so utmost care was taken—no scratches allowed.
Second team.
They silently and covertly subdued the Bukgang Stronghold bandits, gagged them, and bound them tight in reverse.
Then they donned the bandits' clothes, masquerading as members of the stronghold.
Final team.
They mapped the internal layout and scoured every inch, seizing ledgers, funds, and all manner of intelligence.
"By now, your hideout's probably a pile of rubble."
A hunter's instincts never faded.
They would unearth truths even Munyang himself had forgotten.
His past wouldn't stay hidden much longer.
"...Do you really have to do this to someone minding his own business?"
"Minding your business? Then maybe don't live like a criminal."
Munyng locked eyes with Ibija.
And realized.
Having come this far, the man had zero intention of backing down, no matter what was said.
Munyng abandoned any hope of talking his way out.
"No choice, then."
He drew his sword and glared at Ibija.
"If you're set on killing me regardless, I'll thrash till the end."
Staring Ibija down, he abruptly unleashed the Fourteen Supreme Thread Sword.
Fourteen sword strikes erupted from his blade.
But not toward Ibija or the other demons.
Straight at his bound subordinates.
Slash!
A sharp sound rang out as the thick ropes binding the bandits snapped and fell away.
Freed, the bandits spat out their gags and hacked up phlegm.
Munyng bellowed at them.
"You morons, get moving!"
From the outset, Munyang's focus wasn't attacking Ibija—it was liberating his men.
Alone against them, he needed to even the odds, at least in numbers.
Besides, pure headcount favored his side slightly, so victory seemed plausible.
Yet something bizarre occurred.
"...?"
Munyng stared at his subordinates in bewilderment.
"Why aren't you moving, you bastards?"
The ropes were clearly cut; they had full mobility.
But the bandits averted his gaze, kneeling stock-still, showing no intent to budge.
Per his plan, they should have leaped up, charged into melee chaos, letting him pick them off one by one.
As Munyang's face hardened with the plan in ruins, Ibija spoke.
"You really know nothing."
"What?"
"The true might behind the name Heavenly Demon Divine Cult in Xinjiang."
Munyng may have lived here for years, but he was still an outsider.
He couldn't grasp the sheer terror that name evoked locally.
The instant it was uttered, the bandits surrendered all will to fight, resigning to fate.
Especially since Munyang's crew was just a ragtag bunch of nobodies—he couldn't even dream of defying the cult.
"Damn these filthy worms!"
Grinding his teeth, Munyang glared at his men.
They only ducked their heads further, avoiding his eyes.
Ibija raised a hand—half nocked arrows, the rest crept toward Munyang.
Glancing at the encroaching foes, he twisted his lips.
"Think I'll die alone? I can take at least half of you with me."
A bold threat, but the unit members pressed on undeterred.
"You wanna test me?"
Munyang fixed them with a chilling glare, then whipped his sword.
Boom!
But it struck no foe—only the ground.
Munyang unleashed ferocious strikes into the earth, kicking up a blinding dust cloud.
Whoosh!
It didn't last.
Ibija's wind-laced arrow pierced through, scattering the dust.
But.
"He bolted."
Munyang was gone.
Dust as cover, straight into the mountain wilds.
Swish—
Sensing motion, Ibija's gaze shifted deep into the peaks.
Staring there, he let out a faint, knowing chuckle.
"Bad miscalculation."
For him, standing and fighting offered better odds than flight.
Why?
Wrong turf to run on.
Ibija raised one hand, licking his lips.
"Time for what we do best."
Flick.
Two fingers thrust forward; his voice cut cold.
"All units. Hunt."
"Huff! Hoo! Hooo!"
Munyang sprinted till breath clawed his throat.
Training had lapsed since becoming chief; the sudden exertion crushed him.
But his legs dared not stop.
Halting meant a grave on the spot.
'Take on a full Heavenly Demon Divine Cult unit solo?'
He knew it was suicide best.
The leader alone seemed beyond his realm.
'Still, they won't keep up.'
Jongnam swordplay was solid, but his footwork? Elder-tier, no doubt.
They couldn't catch him—he was certain.
"Once clear of here, where to?"
Central Plains? Pass.
South or west Xinjiang, maybe.
As he pondered.
Swoosh!
"...!"
He twisted from the arrow.
"W-what?"
Found me already? How?
Questions swirled, unresolved—three more arrows streaked in.
Clang!
Sword batting them aside, Munyang accelerated without a backward glance.
But.
Pew!
Pew!
Pew!
Forest or no, arrows hunted him relentlessly.
'Where are these endless attacks from?!'
Frustration boiled over.
Arrows poured in, but tracing? Futile.
No inkling of ambushes in treetops, under boulders, bush-thick, even streams.
Dodging, deflecting—he held, till his defenses cracked.
Urk!
Shoulder arrow first.
Then back, arm, thigh—his body bristled with shafts.
Yet not one vital hit. No instant death.
Realizing, Munyang's fists shook.
'Toys! They're playing with me!'
Sparing his life deliberately.
Pathetic, but onward—limping, desperate motion.
Then, steps froze.
A sheer cliff loomed. No further.
Whirling back.
Thud.
Demons blocked rear escape.
Left, right, cliff-top—bows trained on him.
Surrounded on all sides.
No out.
The orchestrated scene hit; Munyang spoke.
"Lured me here from the start, huh."
"Took you long enough."
Ibija could've pinned him dead easy.
But Cult Leader's orders: prove the unit's mettle. Positions tailored.
Mountains? Their domain.
Munyang: palm-gripped from go.
Full-tilt chase? Mere sport.
Truth sank in—despair crushed him.
One path left.
Sword gripped vise-tight, Munyang swung once.
Blade kissed ground horizontal.
Boom!
No dust cloud.
Just laid it flat.
Then knees buckled.
Head bowed low; mountain-shaking roar.
"I surrender! I surrender!"
Life first.
Survive shame, plot later.
But.
"No need."
Ibija's reply: glacial ice.