Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Anti-Demon Squad (1)
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Cheongun was slightly taken aback.
It was because his trait activated the moment he gripped the sword.
What the...?
The demons are already all dead. There's none left.
In that instant, Cheongun's gaze slowly drifted downward.
At the same time, he saw the sword hilt tightly clutched in his right hand.
...No way?
"…"
Cheongun cautiously released his grip on the hilt.
The moment he did, his entire body, which had felt as light as if it could fly away, suddenly grew heavy. Soon after, the trait notification floating in the air vanished.
The innate trait had deactivated.
This time, he gripped the hilt again.
A blue window announcing the trait's activation scrolled into existence in the air.
Natural Qi from all directions flooded into his dantian, and a massive sense of elation began surging through his meridians.
Cheongun gripped the sword lightly, released it, then gripped it again.
How many times did he repeat this?
Only after a long while could he confirm it for sure.
The moment he physically held this sword with his hand, his innate trait activated for some reason—even without any demons present.
Cheongun was dumbfounded.
No demons around, and the trait still triggers?
Is the sword itself being treated as a demon since it was forged from demon offerings?
This isn't just a cursed sword—it's a full-on demonic sword!
...Or maybe not?
Perhaps I get treated as a demon temporarily when I hold it?
You know, the cliché where wielding a demonic sword corrupts the user's mind with its malevolent aura.
Look at it now.
The second I grab it, my vision goes pitch black, shitty illusions pop up everywhere, and ghostly screams ring in my ears like tinnitus.
Well, in a world where a single sword can cleave mountains, it's possible getting treated as a demon just from holding one makes sense.
Even so, it was still bewildering.
"Hmm."
Cheongun glanced down at the sword in his hand.
The jet-black hilt and guard blended seamlessly with the razor-sharp blade.
It was clearly a masterwork sword at first glance.
On par with the Crimson Night Sword his master had bestowed upon him.
And on top of that, the trait activated the moment he gripped it?
This is basically an endgame weapon.
They tried to hoard something like this among themselves.
Good thing I wiped out those Blood Cult trash.
But there was a problem.
The unidentified, cursed special effects that popped up every time he drew the sword.
Just gripping the hilt made his eyes go murky black, and whenever he channeled qi, pitch-black crimson energy writhed around the blade. It looked outright eerie—practically malevolent.
It was blatantly advertising, "Behold, I am a badass demon."
Visually, it was too flashy to swing around carelessly.
The performance itself was endgame-tier, but... wielding it blindly would make him a prime target for being branded a public enemy of murim.
To wield it properly, he'd need some time to tame the damn thing.
Still, good was good.
A sword that stripped the "conditional" from his conditional cheat.
The potential uses were limitless.
Sure, every time he gripped it, his vision tinted red like a filter and annoying ghost noises blared in his head, but he could tough that out with grit.
Cheongun raised the sheathed sword slightly.
Weight: light.
Grip: perfect fit.
Looks: pretty badass.
...Kinda growing on me?
Cheongun returned to the Darkwood Sect.
However, his state upon return was odd—he was absolutely drenched in blood from whatever he'd been up to.
On top of that, unlike his usual self, he was grinning ear to ear like he'd won the lottery.
His subordinates, who knew Cheongun's temperament well, were horrified at the sight.
The sect leader, who had left to meet the Filth Gate's master, came back splattered in blood like a blood ghost?
Had he killed the Filth Gate master and declared, "I'm the Filth Gate master now" on the spot?
Jeok Hwa-ryeon, seeing this, spoke up.
"Sect Leader, hold on a sec."
"What is it?"
"Be honest. What the hell did you do at the Filth Gate?"
"Nothing."
"Then what's all this blood covering you?"
Cheongun roughly explained what had happened.
On the way there, he met a guy calling himself a herald, accepted the invitation, and when he arrived, some bastard named Feast Soul Demon Witch said he'd secure a spot in the cult's inner circle if Cheongun helped him.
Ryeon was stunned.
No, the Anti-Demon Squad?
That infamous direct force under the Heavenly Demon God Cult's leader?
And did he just say Feast Soul Demon Witch?
I've heard of him.
A Heavenly Demon God Cult elder who wields fan arts.
Not just any expert—he's a transcendent master who unleashes sword aura nonstop.
"Hold on. The Feast Soul Demon Witch asked for your help?"
"Yeah."
"Help with what?"
"He needed hearts from demons who hadn't fulfilled their contracts."
Ryeon blinked blankly.
"...And what did you do?"
"Got pissed and killed them all."
"Pardon? Killed who?"
"Me. I killed the Feast Soul Demon Witch. Personally."
She immediately understood from his clear answer.
Ah, he killed him.
Not just anyone, but an elder whose title boldly included "Demon Witch."
But how?
A transcendent master could slice steel like tofu with sword aura, right?
Besides, the Feast Soul Demon Witch wouldn't have been alone—there had to be at least a dozen other experts there.
"…"
...He was soaked in blood, so it didn't sound like a lie.
And the sect leader wasn't one to lie to her face anyway.
Ryeon nodded.
"Sect Leader, are you insane?"
"I'm always insane."
"......"
Ryeon was flabbergasted.
Of all things, to get tangled with the Anti-Demon Squad.
And not just tangled—he'd killed their chief steward, the Feast Soul Demon Witch.
It was tantamount to openly declaring war on the Anti-Demon Squad.
Ryeon looked queasy as she asked Cheongun,
"So, what now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, do you think the Anti-Demon Squad is some third-rate assassin guild? You killed their chief steward—they'll come charging once they figure it out. How do you plan to handle that?!"
The hierarchy in the Heavenly Demon God Cult was simple.
Strength ruled; raw power determined rank.
And the Anti-Demon Squad's leader was among the top ten in that hierarchy.
Meaning, among the entire cult, his power ranked in the top ten.
How could he be so nonchalant after killing a subordinate of such a monster?
"You have a plan, right?"
"Of course."
Good, he had a plan.
As Ryeon let out a sigh of relief—
"We strike them first."
Ryeon smiled brightly at his words.
"The Anti-Demon Squad?"
"Exactly."
"Sect Leader."
"Yeah?"
"This time, you're going for their leader?"
"Spot on."
I see.
Bloodline Pavilion Lord, Darkwood Sect Leader, and now Anti-Demon Squad Leader.
Yeah, not surprising at all.
The sect leader spouting crazy shit wasn't new.
Ryeon gave up persuading him and cut straight to it.
"When do we hit them?"
Cheongun grinned.
"Tonight."
Hai Shi (9-11 p.m.).
The hour when thick darkness blanketed everything.
Two girls in black masks walked down the road, then came to a halt before a manor.
The tiled roof protruding above the walls gleamed dark blue in the moonlight, and a tall flag fluttered in the night breeze.
The Anti-Demon Squad had black path branches scattered across the Central Plains; this was the one near Chengdu.
At its entrance stood three burly men as gatekeepers.
Spotting the approaching girls, they thrust out an arm roughly to bar the way.
"You two, halt."
The middle man stopped them and scanned them up and down.
He faintly made out the three characters "Shadow Flight Gate" embroidered on their masks.
And the silver needles dangling from their waists.
No doubt about it.
Shadow Flight Gate's signature hidden weapon: Shadow Needle Darts.
The man cleared his throat loudly.
"From the Shadow Flight Gate?"
Shadow Flight Gate.
A massive assassin guild under the Heavenly Demon God Cult.
The two girls nodded at his words.
"Can't you tell just by looking?"
"State your identity."
"Hong So-yeon."
"And the one beside you?"
"Baek Seol."
The middle man asked,
"What's your business?"
"Our gate lord sent us with a letter."
"A letter? From the Shadow Flight Gate Lord?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
Hong So-yeon held out a letter to the middle man.
"Take it already? My arm's getting tired."
Whoosh—!
The man read down the letter.
But the contents were bizarre.
Neat brush strokes spelling just two characters: "Whopper."
"...?"
...A code?
What the hell kind of code is this?
He couldn't make heads or tails of it.
"Hey, take a look at th—"
The middle man turned his head to the right.
He wanted his comrade's take on the code.
But when he turned, his comrade—who had definitely been standing right there—was gone.
"???"
What the?
Where'd he go in that split second?
The man whipped his head back to the front.
Hong So-yeon and Baek Seol stood there blankly, as if wondering what the issue was.
"...What?"
The man was baffled, utterly clueless.
Just then, Hong So-yeon's eyes flicked to the right.
Catching it, the middle man snapped his head rightward.
Nothing there again, but at the edge of his peripheral vision, something like human legs caught his eye.
He jerked his gaze up—and saw the guy who'd been standing next to him moments ago flailing as he soared through the air.
Looking closer, a thin thread bound his nape, and he thrashed like a carp hooked on a fishing line.
What the hell did I just see?
That was when it happened.
"!!!"
Suddenly, five fingers shot out from the darkness like lightning.
And then—
—Pabababak!
Hong So-yeon swiftly struck the man's Demon Seal Acupoint with qi-infused fingers.
Before full paralysis set in, the man barely mumbled,
"What... is this...?"
Hong So-yeon sneered at him.
"What else? You got hooked like a moron."
"You fucking—!"
Before he could finish—
—Crack!
Baek Seol's sharp hand blade struck the man's nape.