The Heavenly Slaughter's Banquet
But it wasn't so. In the distant past, when the Heavenly Slaughter Star rose, they would find the born child and kill them all. Yet because of selfish mothers who hid the birth of their own child, they would generously take a full hundred days before and after to kill them all. Much blood and tears soaked the earth. However, a child born under the ominous lone star of Heavenly Slaughter had to be eliminated even at that cost. Otherwise, it wouldn't be at the level of soaking the earth, but the earth would be submerged under a massive wave of blood and tears.
Heavenly Slaughter was a madness that humans could not possibly endure. And it was a madness that grew and swelled as it matured. At first, it merely found the sight of blood fragrant and took pleasure in tearing flesh and crushing bones. But as the killing intent gradually seeped into the marrow through that process, from then on, along with slaughter, it came to realize other pleasures. It was the realization that seeing people's sorrow and despair brought laughter, and that there was no entertainment more thrilling than the suffering of others.
Cheong's gaze was captivated by death. It was while she stood there blankly, looking down at the writhing living thing. Suddenly, Cheong's arm moved. A splendid sensation as if pushing a blade that was tightly bundled and thrusting. The muscles are firm? You've trained well.
A beat late, Cheong's head turned. Her head, bent at an odd angle, faced the enemy. It was the man clutching his severed forearm.
“Nice to meet you. Is this our first time?”
The Moon Maiden's sword fluttered and filled the space. Originally, the Moon Maiden Sword was a light and cheerful fluttering sword style, but the mind intoxicated by Heavenly Slaughter painted an entirely different picture. Seductive and sinister. Like a mosquito that had somehow attached itself, the moment it touched the body, it immediately stung sharply, sucking the flesh, then staggered and flew up heavily.
The tip of the Wolgwang-geom dug in and precisely poked the tendon where the sinew connected. The taut tendon snapped and curled into the muscle. The enemy whose limb meridians were severed collapsed, bending their limbs in bizarre directions.
Cheong let out an exclamation of admiration at the familiar posture. “Oh! An unexpected identity? You know a thing or two.”
Cheong stabbed the enemy's side once and advanced forward. The belly of the enemy whose spleen was cleanly cut swelled greatly as blood began to trickle out. It was a gift left by the royal descendant.
Now Cheong had almost memorized the inside of the human body. She had learned the information on where to stab and cut, and where to slice. Cheong ran her finger along the sword blade to steal the blood and rubbed it on her tongue. Salty and fishy, yet strangely addictive. Well then, I should enjoy the banquet too now.
“Disciple!” A desperate cry. Cheong's head snapped around. An enemy raising a great saber toward the fallen Daejeongmun disciple. In that instant, life returned to Cheong's eyes.
The enemy who had been about to bring down the sword stumbled and lost balance, falling over. When the Daejeongmun disciple, covered in the corpse, pushed it away in shock, a decoration protruding from the enemy's temple came into view. A hairpin, an ornament that secured a woman's hair.
“Are you alright?” Along with long, jade-like fingers pulling out the hairpin's ornament, a beautiful voice that didn't suit the battlefield. The Daejeongmun disciple looked up blankly at his savior. Heavens. She is truly beautiful. The Daejeongmun disciple was entranced.
“What? Are you not alright? Was I a bit late?” Cheong asked after quickly wiping the hairpin on her pants and reinserting it into her twisted-up hair.
The Daejeongmun disciple snapped back to his senses. “Ah. Thank you, thank you!”
“Young lady, thank you!” The other Daejeongmun disciple who had been shouting for his master also joined in with overwhelming gratitude. Cheong, feeling awkward, waved her hand. “It's nothing. Fight carefully. Don't get hurt for no reason.”
Sinnyeo Sect's secret hair technique, the eleventh form. Greatly twisting the hair and inserting seven hairpins. Two steel-made heavy hairpins and five throwing short hairpins equipped on the head, a secret art of the Sinnyeo Sect. Even in places where one cannot carry weapons, no one questions a woman's hairpin. Though it has the disadvantage of making the head seriously heavy, a master's neck bones do not yield. With Cheong's monstrous strength, she could even endure a form densely packed with needles on a hairpin rod. Instead, the appearance would become highly suspicious.
Somehow, the excitement has cooled a bit. Cheong clicked her tongue and surveyed the battlefield. Paeng Daesan's hearty reverse saber strike was visible. The crescent blade that entered beside the neck exited below the opposite side. The torso torn diagonally fell backward with a thud.
Tsk. How unsightly. What's that? As expected, the immaturity of a mid-level practitioner. Cheong slipped between the Daejeongmun disciples and unleashed her sword. Sinnyeo Sword Third Form, Heavenly Maiden's Great Man. The sword energy-wrapped blade traced the same trajectory as Paeng Daesan's and passed through the enemy's body. But the result was different. The severed torso slid along the diagonal cut and poured out.
Yes. A diagonal slash is best like this. Even the Mountain is still far from the lower limit. No, perhaps it's the limit of a reverse saber user? Cheong nodded in satisfaction. It was a cruel yet astonishing spectacle.
There, the Jeonjin Parangdae hesitated and stepped back, and the Daejeongmun warriors raised their morale with shouts. Cheong raised her hand in response and surveyed the battlefield. Namgung Sinjae was visible over there. True to the name Sword Idiot, he was simply swinging his sword in silence. His left hand with the sword finger extended was doing nothing. If that's the case, he might as well use both hands, or at least hold a shield. Well. If that's what he likes.
And over there, Changbin's figure was visible. Cheong was slightly surprised. What, why is that guy fighting so well. The trajectories drawn by sword energy remained, shattering and scattering in the wind. White and red remnants of shattered sword energy fluttering about. It was truly like flower petals scattering across the world in the wind, a brilliant flower viewing. It wasn't just beautiful to behold. Under the fierce wind of the charging sword, the petals rode the wind and flowed. The fallen petals touched the enemies and bloomed again in blood-red.
The sight of collapsing enemies was captured in Cheong's eyes. Wounds no bigger than a fingernail torn by the petal sword energy, blood leaking from every part of the body with not a single spot intact, staggering without regaining their senses. Cheong felt a bit wronged. Doing that, isn't that demonic art, what else could it be? Why is what I use called one of the Ten Great Demonic Arts, yet. That too is equally cruel, so why only me?
In fact, Cheong's impression wasn't entirely wrong. Originally, the Mount Hua sword was cruel. Mount Hua's ultimate technique, the Life-Stealing Linked Three Immortal Swords, was powerful. But it was too cruel. To the point that even the Mount Hua disciples were reluctant to learn it, saying it wasn't a sword art that a righteous sect should use. Thus, later generations developed it into a more advanced martial art that concealed the thick malice of the Life-Stealing Linked Three Immortal Swords. And added splendor in the form of variations and swiftness. That was the birth of the famous Plum Blossom Sword. However, the cruelty that was hidden by splendor did not disappear. The full bloom overflowing with sword energy and blood.
The killing intent that had been suppressed by the gratitude of the Daejeongmun disciples quietly raised its head again. Yes. I can't lose either! Cheong plunged into the midst of the enemies.
----
Yeomsaraedal realized much too late that the situation had gone terribly wrong. The Jeonjin Parangdae was a special task force of the Demonic Cult composed of at least first-class experts. After swiftly sweeping away the righteous faction's rabble, they should have gathered to watch, but instead, they were being properly slaughtered. It was because of the young experts drawing out sword energy one after another. They were experts of at least the Peak realm. Moreover, among them was even a Plum Blossom Sword Master from the Mount Hua Sect.
Yeomsaraedal's insides burned. What Yeomsaraedal, the Dark Eyes, had wanted: the self-reproach of subordinates dying due to the enemy's own shortcomings, and the frustration of watching and hearing the destruction of the group he had built, slowly grinding the enemy to death within that. What Yeomsaraedal, the Dark Eyes, was actually experiencing: the sense of crisis from losing the Divine Cult's combat unit because of an idiot who failed to properly assess the enemy's strength. His insides burned as his subordinates died one after another. It was a pity that his cherished subordinates were dying, but more important than that was his own safety. What fate awaited a commander who had ruined his unit. The high-ranking figures of the Divine Cult would never let it pass.
Yeomsaraedal's expression grew increasingly dark. It was the decisive difference between righteous faction and evil faction, white path and black path martial artists. It was also the difference between those who seek us in times of danger and those who seek me. Of course, that didn't mean the righteous faction was a group of all good-natured saints.
In the end, Yeomsaraedal made a decision. He swung his Meteor Hammer greatly and shot out a wave of energy, causing Wang Gaeyuk and Gi Protector to distance themselves and dodge. Then, Yeomsaraedal rummaged through his robes. Thinking it might be his trump card, while the two from Daejeongmun were on guard, Yeomsaraedal's hand pulled out a pouch and roughly threw it. The glass bottle inside the pouch that fell to the ground broke and mixed with the powder within the pouch. Soon, dense smoke began to spew out with explosive force.
Wang Gaeyuk and Gi Protector covered their mouths and noses with their sleeves and hurriedly stepped back. “It's poison! Everyone fall back!”
In reality, whether it was truly poison or not was unknown. But seeing suspicious smoke, shouting like this was the law of Murim. A sharp flute sound echoed within the smoke. It was the retreat signal for the Jeonjin Parangdan. The demonic cult's evil enemies vanished into the smoke.
There were many who thought it might not be poison but simply a smoke screen, but actually attempting to charge into the smoke was another matter. Because there was a chance that poisonous powder might be mixed in. Therefore, only two types of people could charge into the smoke. The first were those who clearly knew there was no poison component in the smoke. The retreating Jeonjin Parangdae members were exactly this type. The second were those who didn't need to worry whether there was poison in the smoke or not. Those who had taken an antidote in advance or had already taken countermeasures. Or those with a rare constitution immune to poison.