Chapter 112
Chapter 112
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: Part 4. Uninvited Guests Sprinkle Ashes on the Feast (3)
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112
Other things aside, he couldn’t tolerate anyone disparaging the Hundred Battles Sect.
He turned his head and relaxed his shoulders. A stinging pain shot through his arm that had taken a direct hit moments ago, but he ignored it.
Choyeoun circulated his inner energy throughout his body. In that instant, his aura changed. If he had seemed somewhat lacking just before, now he exuded a solid, unyielding presence without the slightest gap.
“Hmm!”
As Choyeoun’s aura shifted, a flicker of tension appeared in Yi Yeomra’s eyes.
In a flash, Choyeoun kicked off the ground.
A white energy gathered around his fist.
It was the phenomenon that occurred when unleashing the third form of the Eight Desolations Divine Fist: Strike to Annihilate the World.
Crackle! Crackle!
The white energy unleashed thunderbolts.
Yi Yeomra spread his palm wide open. His energy concentrated on the hand held out like a shield.
Choyeoun’s fist slammed into Yi Yeomra’s palm.
Boom!
“Urk!”
A stifled groan escaped through Yi Yeomra’s gritted teeth.
His entire body jolted, and his insides churned. The immense force surging from Choyeoun’s fist shook him to his core.
Yi Yeomra hurriedly retreated. But Choyeoun didn’t let him pull away so easily.
Whoosh!
As if wings had sprouted on his back, Choyeoun’s form floated lightly above the ground and closed in on Yi Yeomra.
It was the Hundred Battles Sect’s signature footwork, Flying Hawk Step.
Just as a hawk glides through the sky with wings fully spread, Choyeoun approached with both arms outstretched.
Choyeoun’s eyes gleamed ferociously.
“To think you’d retreat against the Eight Desolations Divine Fist.”
The Eight Desolations Divine Fist was a technique of overwhelming power.
Unleashing its full might required tremendous strength and inner energy. Add speed to the equation, and it was perfection.
Yi Yeomra was falling back, while Choyeoun surged forward. Their relative speed had increased.
The fifth form of the Eight Desolations Divine Fist, Thunder Spirit’s Radiant Annihilation, unfolded.
Crackle! Crackle!
White lightning enveloped not just Choyeoun’s fist but his entire arm.
Yi Yeomra’s vision filled with the flashing white thunderbolts.
Boom!
“Gah!”
With a thunderous roar, Yi Yeomra was hurled backward. The front of his robes was charred black.
“Deputy Leader!”
As Yi Yeomra faltered, the nearby Blood Chain Ghosts rushed to his aid. The attackers, clad head to toe in black, swarmed Choyeoun in unison.
“Damn it!”
A curse slipped through Choyeoun’s lips.
The Eight Desolations Divine Fist consisted of seven forms.
Each one wielded immense power, but they consumed an enormous amount of energy in return.
The final three forms, in particular, devoured inner energy to an insane degree. Unleashing even one could lead to exhaustion.
In truth, Choyeoun’s reserves were nearly depleted.
To fail to kill Yi Yeomra after expending such energy meant this exchange was a loss.
“Tch!”
Choyeoun bit his lip and scanned his surroundings.
The situation was dire.
No one knew where they had gathered from, but the Blood Chain Ghosts outnumbered the righteous faction warriors assembled at the Evil Yang Sword Sect by far.
They had held on at first, but as time wore on, the balance of power crumbled. If this continued much longer, most people here would lose their lives.
Choyeoun’s gaze suddenly turned toward Eunsocheong.
The warriors of the Silver Family, led by Jongrisu, were barely hanging on. Even they were starting to collapse from the outskirts.
“Damn it all!”
Others aside, he had to protect Eunsocheong at all costs. If anything happened to her, he wouldn’t have the face to meet Bang Jinbo.
They bickered every day, but Choyeoun was the one who looked after Bang Jinbo the most.
To reach Eunsocheong, though, he first had to cut down the enemies blocking his path.
‘Just hold on a little longer. Please!’
Choyeoun prayed fervently, but Eunsocheong’s eyes shook violently against his hopes.
Blood sprayed right before her eyes. The blood from a warrior bisected at the waist splattered across her face in droplets.
“Ah!”
A scream welled up in her throat. But with superhuman endurance, Eunsocheong barely swallowed it back.
“Socheong.”
Eunilmyeong pulled Eunsocheong behind his back.
Half of the Silver Family warriors who usually guarded him loyally had already fallen to the Blood Chain Ghosts’ iron chains.
They were considered strong by worldly standards, but they couldn’t compare to disciples of the Nine Great Sects or Five Great Families.
Even warriors from those prestigious groups were being helplessly pushed back by the Blood Chain Ghosts. Many had died or been injured, and the rest fought desperately even now.
How could the far inferior Silver Family warriors hold out? It was only thanks to Jongrisu standing at the forefront as Eunsocheong’s protector that they had lasted this long. Otherwise, they would have been wiped out ages ago.
But even that limit had been reached.
“Gurk!”
Another Silver Family warrior fell.
Jongrisu’s eyes wavered as he gripped his sword.
‘Gwak.’
The warrior’s name was Janggwak, a man he had been on friendly terms with.
Even as a comrade died, there was nothing Jongrisu could do.
Known as the Silver Sword Ghost Hand, he possessed formidable martial arts, but protecting Eunilmyeong and his daughter alone was overwhelming him now.
The situation grew ever more desperate.
More and more were falling, mostly warriors from the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families.
‘This is hell.’
If only she could close her eyes and cover her ears. But she couldn’t.
The horrific, unbearable scenes and the screams of people held her eyes and ears captive.
“Aaah!”
Tears streamed down her delicate cheeks.
She tried to hold them back, but they wouldn’t stop. It was as if her tear glands had broken, the flow endless.
Slash!
“Argh!”
With a chilling whoosh, another Silver Family warrior met his end.
“This can’t be happening…….”
Eunsocheong’s father, Eunilmyeong, trembled with rage.
Incredulity etched his face.
He knew the Silver Family warriors were a cut below disciples of the Nine Great Sects, but he had never imagined they would fall so pathetically.
Until entering this place, he had dreamed. Dreamed of the Silver Family rising to become Hunan’s foremost sect, backed by the Murim Alliance.
But now he faced reality.
The Murim Alliance had formed to counter the Demonic Cult.
Decades ago, the entire murim had united against a single Demonic Cult—and still suffered massive losses.
Countless sects were wiped out, and far more warriors perished. The great war between righteousness and evil had shaken the entire martial world.
All that devastation from one force: the Demonic Cult.
In other words, the Demonic Cult wielded power so vast that the whole murim needed to unite against it.
Joining the Murim Alliance meant standing on the front lines against that colossal might.
“Urk!”
One misstep, and instead of sweet fruit, the Silver Family could face annihilation.
Eunilmyeong finally grasped this truth.
A suffocating sense of crisis overwhelmed him.
The Demonic Cult’s return was now undeniable. Wasn’t the proof right before their eyes?
Clang!
At that moment, an exceptionally clear sword cry rang across the battlefield. A fierce wave of energy swept through the area.
“Ugh!”
“Ah!”
Eunilmyeong and his daughter staggered under the energy wave. Their faces paled.
The clash between Qinghe Daoist and the Golden Horse Lion sent a storm-like blast ravaging the entire Evil Yang Sword Sect.
The Golden Horse Lion swung his hand. Torrents of energy surged forth, engulfing Qinghe Daoist.
Qinghe Daoist’s white beard trembled.
He knew better than anyone that ordinary methods couldn’t counter such energy.
Qinghe Daoist poured all his energy into his beloved sword. A haze rose, soon forming a faint sword shape.
“Sword……gang?”
The Golden Horse Lion’s brow furrowed slightly beneath his golden mask.
He hadn’t expected Qinghe Daoist to have reached the realm of Sword Gang.
Clang!
The Golden Horse Lion’s energy torrent clashed with Qinghe Daoist’s Sword Gang.
Rumble!
Their collision shattered the grand hall.
Roof tiles turned to dust and scattered, and a massive pillar too wide for several men to encircle broke apart, flying in all directions.
It was power beyond imagination.
But Qinghe Daoist’s expression, who had unleashed the Sword Gang, wasn’t good. His face was ashen black, blood trickling from his mouth.
A single clash had inflicted severe internal injuries.
Energy torrents and Sword Gangs were both forms of qi projection. But their might varied vastly by depth of enlightenment, years of training, and inner energy reserves.
Qinghe Daoist had only recently comprehended Sword Gang, and even that imperfectly.
It took the form, but lacked true power.
“Urk!”
Unable to hold back, Qinghe Daoist vomited black blood.
The Golden Horse Lion looked down at him and spoke.
“You hid an ace up your sleeve, old beard. Forming Intent Sword Gang and fooling everyone so perfectly. I nearly suffered a great loss.”
Though called Hunan’s Supreme Sword, the consensus was that Qinghe Daoist hadn’t yet reached Sword Gang formation.
Yet he had surpassed expectations, attaining Intent Sword Gang—albeit imperfect and weaker.
“Amitabha! It’s not over yet.”
Despite the clear disadvantage, Qinghe Daoist charged at the Golden Horse Lion again. He resembled a moth flying into flames, knowing death awaited.
But Qinghe Daoist had no choice. If he yielded here, everyone present would be slaughtered.
Gritting his teeth, Qinghe Daoist wielded his Sword Gang.
Hanyeoyu watched him and clenched her teeth.
Everyone fought desperately.
The Mount Hua Sect disciples had suffered heavy losses too.
Several second-generation disciples were already injured or dead. Myeonggyeong facing the masked man at the vanguard had kept it to this; otherwise, they might have been annihilated early.
Third-Generation Elder Hyunmu Daoist struggled valiantly, but his limits were clear.
Hanyeoyu darted around protecting fellow disciples, but she too had reached her limit.
“Huff! Huff!”
Bloody breaths escaped her lips.
“Wench, you’re not bad.”
Then, one of the enemies approached her.
A warrior exuding exceptional pressure—one of the Three Yamas, the Third Yama. He aimed his sword at Hanyeoyu.
Her inner energy was nearly spent, while he hadn’t broken a sweat. This fight was mere warm-up for him.
“Die!”
He swung his sword.
Clang clang!
Hanyeoyu desperately countered with Plum Blossom Thirty-Six Swords. But with depleted energy, her movements soon grew disordered.
Slash!
“Eek!”
She took a cut to the shoulder and dropped her sword.
“Junior Sister!”
“Soyu!”
Myeonggyeong and Hyunmu Daoist, spotting it from afar, cried out and tried to rush over. But each was locked in combat, unable to break free.
Myeonggyeong especially was pinned by the First Yama, with no way to disengage.
The Third Yama’s sword fell toward Hanyeoyu’s neck.
“No!”
The moment Myeonggyeong screamed at the top of his lungs—
Boom!
A heavy vibration suddenly echoed through the entire Evil Yang Sword Sect.
People flinched at the strangely ominous sound that gripped their hearts.
Even the Golden Horse Lion, who had been overwhelming Qinghe Daoist, reacted.
Boom! Rumble! Boom! Rumble!
The foreboding noise grew louder and louder.