The Blood Fist Elder
Nam Gyuil entered the building housing the boss monster alongside his teammates. The interior resembled an old inn, lit by flickering lanterns. The problem was the jiangshi lurking inside as well. These ones had particularly grotesque appearances—some with four arms, others sporting three heads.
"Eek!!"
Lee Chanu's face drained of color. It was a truly horrifying sight. The inn was crawling with custom jiangshi stitched together from countless mangled corpses. One had no legs but six arms instead, scuttling toward Nam Gyuil's group like a spider.
"Gaaah!!"
Lee Chanu screamed at the revolting creature. Nam Gyuil ground his teeth. Slash! He swiftly swung his blade, cleaving the six-armed jiangshi mid-crawl.
"Kieeeek."
The thing flailed about, decapitated and dismembered. Rage boiled in Nam Gyuil. Jiangshi were born from the corpses of the dead. But these abominations? They'd been crudely pieced together into freakish forms for amusement. It was a desecration of the deceased.
Whoever the boss is, it's trash. He couldn't forgive it. He didn't even want to imagine the atrocities if one escaped the gate.
I'll take it down today, no matter what. Nam Gyuil gripped his sword tighter, steeling his resolve.
He wanted to head upstairs to the boss, but the inn swarmed with too many jiangshi.
"Grraaah."
Worse, the ones from the street were pouring in, and more kept crawling up from the ground. Nam Gyuil swallowed a curse. To close the gate, he had to fell the boss—and that meant his team holding off the horde while he did.
Can they handle it? With so many, he worried.
Han Kangsu glanced at Nam Gyuil, then stepped forward with a grave nod, as if reading his mind. Slash! His blade severed a jiangshi's limbs in a display of overwhelming skill. He shot Nam Gyuil a look. "We'll handle this."
"You sure?"
"We didn't train that weakly just to whine about this much."
Han Kangsu smirked, his expression saying to trust their hard-earned sweat. The others mirrored his confidence, eyes alight. Energized, they knew their roles. Nam Gyuil grinned.
"Alright, you're in charge here. I'm off to crush the boss."
"Yes, sir—go get 'em!"
Hwang Ilsu bellowed encouragingly, waving him on.
Thud-thud. Nam Gyuil leaped straight to the second-floor hallway. A nauseating malice hit him like a gut punch—far stronger up close. Goosebumps prickled his skin; visceral disgust made him hesitate to approach.
"Hoo."
Nam Gyuil exhaled, steadying himself. He pushed open the door to the room pulsing with the boss's aura.
Someone was there: a disheveled old man with wild white hair. His wrinkled face was a map of age, his beard reaching his thighs. Gaunt to the bone, skin clung to his skeleton. He grinned at Nam Gyuil, revealing filthy black teeth. His slit eyes were so narrow the pupils vanished—impossible to tell if open or shut. He looked like a snarling demon.
The room was scrawled with inscriptions everywhere—walls, furniture. The floor bore intricate formations. This was the Surama Formation, generator of jiangshi.
Thud-thud. The elder rose unhurriedly, unfazed by the armed man before him. He spread his hands into a stance, gauntlets gleaming. Fist arts.
Thud-thud. He charged Nam Gyuil.
Clang! Blade met gauntlet. Nam Gyuil reeled from the elder's monstrous strength, pushed back from the formation room.
Strong! The vibration shot through his grip, numbing his fingers. Frail in appearance, yet his power topped anyone Nam Gyuil had faced.
The Demonic Cult's Blood Fist Technique, staining fists red with blood. Elite warriors only.
Nam Gyuil eyed him. No ordinary foe. And a human classified as a monster—first since the dark wizard. This fight wouldn't be easy. But that was fine.
You chased me out of the formation room yourself. Nam Gyuil summoned a second sword with Sichuan Tang Clan arts and hurled it at the room with all his might.
The elder's eyes widened in shock—unexpected. Whoosh. He leaped back, catching it with both hands. The blade dissolved into smoke.
Whoosh. By the time he recovered, Nam Gyuil had summoned Phoenix.
"Burn that room!!"
Phoenix engulfed the formation in flames. The jiangshi froze, then collapsed into ordinary corpses.
The elder scowled, baring teeth in fury, eyes blazing murder. He channeled energy into his gauntlets—just like sword aura.
To conserve mana after Sakaki Seito, Nam Gyuil unsummoned Phoenix—the fire had done its job. He taunted, "Nice face. What's your name, old timer?" Planning to pry info if he spoke.
The elder mumbled incoherently. His tongue was gone. Nam Gyuil gave up on intel.
Figures.
The elder lunged. His team rushed to help.
"You dare touch Gyuil hyung?!"
"Stay back! This is beyond you—I've got it!"
Nam Gyuil deflected with Taeguk Sword subtlety. Normally, he'd counter, but the power left no opening. Blood Fist's destruction and speed were elite.
Nam Gyuil met it with sword aura. The elder's skill made it grueling.
Need an unforeseen strike to end it.
Clang. He parried flat-bladed, closing in. The elder smirked—foolish to approach a fist master.
Wrong. Nam Gyuil unleashed Shaolin's Dragon Claw Hand, crushing and rending with iron grip. He tore off the elder's arm in one yank.
Splatter!! Blood sprayed. Stunned, the elder flinched in agony. Nam Gyuil seized his throat.
Crack. Neck snapped, artery ripped.
"Gurk...!!"
Lifeless eyes dimmed; the elder crumpled. Victory.
Nam Gyuil wiped sweat from his brow. Exhausted. He'd summoned a high spirit, mixed sects' arts—his inner energy neared depletion.
Not easy. Sakaki Seito, now this Demonic Cult elder.
More like this ahead? Can't tire like today. Need to one-shot them.
Long road ahead. "Find and smash the core. Spread out!"
They nodded, scouring the spacious inn. In a drawer, Nam Gyuil found a box.
What's inside? Herbs like ginseng—but different.
Summoning Pill ingredients!
Shaolin elixir boosting inner energy quantity. Less than Daehwan Pill, but welcome. Common materials in murim, secret recipe—but Akashic Records gave it to him. Earth lacked this herb...
Ten roots. Enough for five pills. Rest procurable here.
Unexpected luck. He kept searching, found the hidden core.
Crackle. Destroyed, they exited the gate.
Exiting satisfied with the elixir ingredients, Nam Gyuil spotted the bloodsword—Sakaki Seito's foul blade. He picked it up. The bloodied edge hummed, thirsting for kills.
Ominous sword. Pity to destroy; a famed blade.
Give to kobolds for reforging. It'll reborn strong. Spoils of war. He smirked. The humming stopped.
He called police about Sakaki Seito. They arrived at Public Guild, took the body. Nam Gyuil eyed the bloodied interior.
Special cleaners tomorrow.
After simple questioning, home. Soldiers, police, Hunter Agency folk awoke from the formation's slumber. He claimed Sakaki used a consumable item. Home at 2 a.m.
"Tough day."
He set the bloodsword down, grabbed water. Shy approached suddenly, pawing it then his leg.
"Kuh!!"
He dropped the cup—kitchen flooded, but plastic spared breakage. Shy startled away.
"What the..."
Nam Gyuil clutched his head. Touching the sword and him triggered visions: Sakaki Seito conversing.
Psychometry. Reading owners via possessions. Shy's innate power, used instinctively.
Nam Gyuil smiled at her. No intel on monster-colluding awakeners till now.
But the key was right here. Chance to uncover goals, structure!
With Shy's help, he read Sakaki's memories. Shocking truth.
That's why martial artists appeared right after I reached Akashic Records' second floor?!