Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Not All Passing Breezes Are Warm (3)
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A sticky murderous intent surfaced in Gyeong Cheon-saeng's eyes.
"Insolent fool!"
Until now, as he roamed the martial world, he had never encountered anyone who spoke with such arrogance, like a venomous tiger. Everyone who saw him bowed their heads frantically, desperately trying to curry favor.
Yet this venomous tiger was mercilessly trampling Gyeong Cheon-saeng's pride.
"To think a lame cripple would dare..."
It was the moment Gyeong Cheon-saeng spat out his bloodthirsty words.
Boom!
A sudden roar exploded.
Immediately after, someone who had turned into a bloody pulp flew past Gyeong Cheon-saeng and backward.
The one who flew over ten張, rolling across the ground before collapsing limply, was a junior Gyeong Cheon-saeng held dear.
Though he handled shadowy tasks, his martial prowess was exceptional, and his personality likable—Gyeong Cheon-saeng had quietly kept an eye on him.
The once-vibrant face now showed no sign of life. The eyes that once sparkled had long lost focus.
Even in death, a look of bewilderment lingered on his face. Until his final breath, he hadn't understood why he had to die.
"What?"
Boom!
The moment bewilderment appeared on Gyeong Cheon-saeng's face, thunder cracked again.
"Aaack!"
A scream followed, and another life faded away pointlessly.
Death rained down like a storm.
"What?"
Gyeong Cheon-saeng saw his subordinates flying backward like cannonballs. In the spaces they left, the venomous tiger and his fist took their place.
No—Damho's hand was closer to a blunt nail than a fist. Each time it thrust out, his subordinates sprayed blood and perished.
Wall-shattering stomps.
Simultaneous castle-breaking punches.
A terrifyingly simple repetition of two movements. Yet none of Gyeong Cheon-saeng's subordinates could withstand even a single one.
Crack!
Blocking with an arm snapped the bone. Blocking with a leg shattered it to pieces.
Boom!
"Graaack!"
A warrior with a caved-in chest flew off with a wretched scream.
Damho was a calamity.
Impossible to block or repel.
To the warriors present, he was no different from the Grim Reaper.
"Uwaaak!"
The warriors scattered like grasshoppers to evade Damho. But no matter how they moved, death found them as if fated.
Kwaaang!
One castle-breaking punch turned three warriors into minced flesh that flew away.
"Halt!"
Finally unable to stand it, Gyeong Cheon-saeng drew his sword like lightning and hurled himself at Damho.
Tssst!
A haze rose from his blade, forming a clear sword qi.
Soul-Chasing Lightning Slash.
That was the name of the technique he unleashed.
As swift and ferocious as its name suggested. Gyeong Cheon-saeng believed this single move might not kill Damho, but it would at least stop the massacre.
'His left leg is the weakness.'
Damho was terrifyingly strong. But he surely had a weakness: that injured left leg.
His sword qi targeted Damho's left leg.
Like a swallow skimming the water's surface, Gyeong Cheon-saeng's form crouched low, hugging the earth as he closed in.
Shuwaaak!
The sword flew as low as his bent waist—insidious and sharp, like a venomous serpent coiled with poison.
'Got him.'
Ecstasy lit Gyeong Cheon-saeng's eyes. The blade was about to sever Damho's ankle. He was certain Damho couldn't dodge.
At that instant, Damho's left leg lifted slightly. As Gyeong Cheon-saeng's sword passed harmlessly beneath his foot, Damho slammed it down with force.
Thud!
"Urk!"
A groan of agony escaped Gyeong Cheon-saeng's lips. His eyes widened in disbelief.
His sword lay crushed beneath Damho's foot. The impact had torn the guard on his sword-gripping hand, blood flowing freely.
Gyeong Cheon-saeng circulated his inner energy to yank the pinned sword free. But it wouldn't budge, as if crushed under a massive boulder.
'Impossible...'
The moment he raised his head, awed by the horrifying pressure through the blade, Damho's knee filled his vision.
Boom!
"Kuhuk!"
An unforeseen massive blow snapped Gyeong Cheon-saeng's head back. His nose was pulverized, as if struck by a sledgehammer.
"Eeek!"
Amid painful groans, Gyeong Cheon-saeng released the sword and tried to counter barehanded.
Boom!
In that instant, Damho's knee smashed into his face again.
Kwaduk!
Gyeong Cheon-saeng felt his facial bones shatter entirely, like a gourd exploding.
No scream escaped. Damho's knee struck once more.
Crush!
Blood sprayed in all directions, mingled with pale, tofu-like fragments.
Gyeong Cheon-saeng's body crumbled.
His subordinates held their breath. Disbelief dawned on their faces.
Three knee strikes ended Gyeong Cheon-saeng. His face, rolling on the ground, was unrecognizable pulp.
Gyeong Cheon-saeng wasn't someone who could die so easily.
He ranked among the top ten experts in the mountain stronghold. The number of martial world masters who had fallen to him exceeded a hundred easily.
Such a master perished without unleashing a single proper technique. A horror they had never imagined unfolded before their eyes.
Damho's chilling gaze turned to them.
His eyes held no ecstasy of victory over Gyeong Cheon-saeng, no joy of dominating the situation.
Only killing intent filled his savage, flickering pupils.
A rough, gravelly voice leaked through his lips.
"In the end, you couldn't prove it."
"Ugh!"
"A reason for you to live..."
As Damho's voice echoed, terror peaked among the survivors.
"A demon... a demon!"
"Run!"
The survivors scattered in all directions. But not a single one escaped.
Caw! Caw!
Countless crows circled the sky, crying out. Yet not one descended to the ground.
The earth brimmed with death. Only one man stood amid it.
The blood-soaked figure was Damho.
Even in death, they hadn't betrayed their backers. Damho hadn't particularly cared to ask anyway.
They cursed him.
Said he was unforgivable.
That heaven would punish him.
It wasn't even amusing. This wasn't a fight he had started. It was theirs. Damho had no intention of fleeing any fight.
Damho surveyed the carnage he had wrought. No guilt stirred. Instead, fear did.
Fear of himself—remaining calm after such devastation.
As if he had become something other than human.
Then, something gleaming caught Damho's eye. It lay near the brutally crushed Gyeong Cheon-saeng.
The object Damho picked up was the Mystic Eye Stone. The one he had handed to Jo Su-gwang, master of the Silver Lotus Merchant Group.
This rare treasure of the world had circled back to him after several turns.
Damho wondered if it might be a death-bringing demon. Everyone else who had owned it, save him, was dead.
The Mystic Eye Stone in his hand glowed eerily.
Damho gazed at it briefly before tucking it into his bosom.
***
The Western Heaven Mountain Stronghold nested at the eastern end of the Tianshan Mountains, beneath Bokgeukdal Peak.
Five years ago, when the stronghold first settled under Bokgeukdal Peak, it truly felt like a simple mountain villa. But over those five years of rapid growth, it now exuded the aura of a full-fledged martial sect.
Much about the Western Heaven Mountain Stronghold remained shrouded in secrecy, from its master's identity to its forces and founding purpose—much like its towering walls.
It became etched in people's minds as a sect three years ago, during the Blood Sand Wind uprising.
The Blood Sand Wind was a bandit horde rampaging through the desert. Its scale dwarfed even the Blood Wolf Band.
They ambushed merchants crossing the desert, plundered goods, massacred indiscriminately, and drenched the region in terror.
Hundreds died, and tens of thousands in gold were stolen.
Fed up, several prominent sects of the New Frontier allied for a subjugation. Instead, they were annihilated. Emboldened, the Blood Sand Wind roamed desert and steppe like their backyard.
Trade halted; no one dared commerce with the Western Regions.
That was when the Western Heaven Mountain Stronghold's warriors stepped up. Throwing their full might into it, they quelled the desert-ravaging Blood Sand Wind.
In one stroke, the stronghold rose as a new power in the New Frontier martial world. Their influence grew daily, ultimately ranking among the top three forces there.
All in a mere five years. What took Central Plains' premier sects generations, they achieved in half a decade.
The stronghold stayed put, but people endlessly sought them out—for favors, grievances, connections.
Its gates stood wide for such visitors.
"What brings you here?"
The gatekeepers inquired after their purpose.
Though mere gatekeepers, their auras were far from ordinary. Visitors couldn't hide their intimidation at the stronghold-worthy intensity.
Amid the long line to enter stood an old man and a young woman in black. The black-robed elder and strikingly beautiful woman were Heuk No and Sim Ok.
They waited midway in line like everyone else, blending in seamlessly. The gatekeepers paid them little mind.
Sim Ok scanned the Western Heaven Mountain Stronghold with sharp eyes. But gleaning anything from its high-walled exterior was near impossible.
Walls about two張 tall encircled the vast compound—like a fortress more than a villa.
Sim Ok let out an admiring sigh.
"Impressive. How nice it'd be if we had walls this grand. Looks so much better."
"High walls mean much to protect. We have little that needs guarding."
"That's the problem. We're no better than beggars."
Sim Ok snorted.
"All thanks to the Vice Leader's frugality..."
"So we're beggars, then."
"Sigh."
Heuk No sighed.
Their turn came. The gatekeeper asked,
"What brings you?"
"To see the stronghold master."
"The master?"
The gatekeeper's eyes sharpened. Sim Ok caught the change.
'As expected!'
That fleeting glint was no ordinary gatekeeper's.
The gatekeeper asked again.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No."
"Without one, it's impossible."
"Is that so? Then pass this message: guests from the Bloodscale Killing Veil have arrived."
"Did you say Bloodscale Killing Veil?"
The gatekeeper's face paled dramatically.
"Yes! I'm Sim Ok, young leader of the Bloodscale Killing Veil."
A smile curved Sim Ok's lips.