Chapter 79
Chapter 79
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: Demonic Cult Infiltration (2)
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Demon Sword.
The ultimate weapon exclusive to Cheongun, obtained from the Blood River Valley.
Cheongun's ability stemmed from his unique trait, Overthrow Demonic Cult! A "conditional" cheat power that only activated upon encountering demonic cultists.
Activating the trait itself was no difficult task.
But maintaining this cheat required demonic cultists in the end, and keeping them around as companions was a hassle—troublesome, full of variables, and all sorts of complications.
Above all, it grated on him that such a trivial issue imposed restrictions on his actions.
All because of a single trait.
But what about the Demon Sword?
Its portability went without saying; it was easy to carry, and it drew no suspicion whatsoever.
No variables at all. It was as simple as carrying it around and pulling it out when needed—what variables could there possibly be?
In truth, this unique trait was only truly complete when paired with the Demon Sword.
And now that he had obtained it, Cheongun no longer needed to wander about collecting demonic cultists like before.
Before acquiring the Demon Sword, he had gathered them to activate his trait, using them as human batteries. But now, with the sword in hand, there was no need to bother rounding them up.
One Demon Sword had ground down hundreds, even thousands of cultists—carrying a single sword was equivalent to traveling with hundreds or thousands of them.
It was a matter of efficiency over mere convenience.
But things were different now.
The sword spirit had clearly stated it: stab and kill a demonic cultist with this, and you can store their soul in the sword's heart-space. A demonic sword that grew by devouring the souls of slain cultists—that was the essence of the Demon Sword.
And so, Cheongun declared,
"Alright, time to die."
"...Damn it!!"
The demonic cultists, who had been cackling moments ago, scattered into the air in perfect unison.
They were terrified by Cheongun's approach, his eyes gleaming with fierce blue light.
Having witnessed him casually draw forth sword energy from his blade, they instinctively knew something was gravely wrong.
A total of ten foes.
The first to leap up unleashed a palm strike at the stationary Cheongun, while another drew an assortment of shuriken from his sleeve and rained them down.
Thunder bombs flew, sand poisoned with deadly toxin hurtled toward him, and all manner of blades whistled through the air—whoosh!—in a barrage. Thin needles like threads flickered beyond them. Every hidden weapon at their disposal was deployed to disrupt his vision.
With sword energy in play, he was at least a Grand Master—an absolute expert who had crossed the wall. No matter that they were all Peak realm warriors; even if all ten ganged up with full intent, they couldn't defeat him. That was why the leap from Peak to Transcendent was called "the wall."
"Tsk, tsk."
Cheongun clicked his tongue and advanced.
Amid the onslaught, he partially deployed his protective aura to block only the blades.
"You dare kill an innocent woman's husband and children? Unforgivable."
"R-Run!"
Cheongun gazed at them leisurely.
By commanding the sword spirit as a shikigami, he could share a portion of its vision.
Thus, with his spiritual eyes partially awakened, Cheongun's sight distinguished demonic cultists by color.
Yellow for those with some chance of reform, red for those who deserved only death.
And so, he closely examined each one. At minimum, to sort who to kill and who to spare. Those who had merely practiced demonic arts without committing grave evils had potential for redemption and could be left alive for now.
Let's see...
Those who could be killed without issue...
'About seven, roughly.'
Seven, no less. His heart raced at the thought of eliminating these irredeemable trashes.
Cheongun raised two fingers and snatched a flying dart as if picking it up with chopsticks.
The Azure Thunder Arts divide into three broad stages.
Azure Thunder, Verdant Thunder, Purple Thunder.
Terms denoting the destructive power of lightning.
Having crossed the wall, Cheongun had just entered the Verdant Thunder realm. He promptly infused the dart with it.
Verdant Thunder flowed along the blade in a needle-sharp, condensed form—as if countless threads of current had woven together to maximize penetration.
This was no longer a mere dart. It was a bomb. Thus, Cheongun naturally hurled it back along its original trajectory.
The instant the dart left his hand, lightning erupted with a deafening roar.
"!!!"
One fleeing cultist panicked at the returning dart and angled his sword to block.
It struck the flat of the blade with a clear ting!
And then.
Kaboom—!!!
A massive lightning explosion engulfed him.
Yes. That's how darts should explode.
The Azure Thunder Arts never disappointed—such a satisfying feel.
Cheongun nodded in satisfaction.
That paper-thin dart had detonated like a bomb.
An absurd feat.
The scattered cultists accelerated their flight at the sight.
In response, Cheongun plucked hairs from the head of a fallen foe, his expression distant.
Again, the same. He meticulously infused each strand with Verdant Thunder. The electrified hairs glowed blue, standing on end like static-charged wires.
Cheongun casually scattered them into the air.
The blue hairs floated midair before tracing azure trails, transforming into arrows that shot toward the enemy.
Beauty was not the end of it.
Each slender strand was a potent lightning bomb.
"Dodge!!"
The foes unleashed their footwork in panic.
Absurdly, they seemed to think mere hairs could be evaded—slightly irritating.
Those weren't just hairs. They were swords.
The Hair Sword Art.
And wielding them with intangible sword techniques made it the Qi Hair Sword.
Conveniently, one of the fleeing baldheads caught his eye.
Cheongun gripped his sword formula and directed the hairs like a conductor.
Dozens of strands relentlessly pursued the bald cultist. No matter how frantically he dodged with footwork, they doggedly tracked him.
And the opening.
"S-Spare...!!"
Before his plea ended, the hairs plunged into his bare scalp like living seeds into parched earth.
Intelligence faded from his eyes as the embedded strands hummed and vibrated.
And then.
Kaboom—!!!
Intertwining bolts of lightning erupted in cataclysmic fury.
Suryeon, the one who had led Cheongun here, was already slumped on the ground, foaming at the mouth on the verge of collapse. The sight sent chills through the fleeing others.
"Die. You have to die."
Yes. That was right.
Cheongun stepped forward with footwork, plunging into their midst.
****
What followed was a sort of game.
Suryeon loved games. Especially deadly ones. Toying with stupid righteous faction fools before killing them gave an unparalleled thrill.
So this time too, she planned to play.
That's why she lured Cheongun here—but she realized far too late that something had gone terribly wrong.
Cheongun was the one playing. Hunting or incapacitating the fleeing cultists one by one. Not even a proper fight—they were simply being shredded by that unidentified lightning and sword energy.
He spared her not even a glance. A leisure born of certainty that escape was futile.
Suryeon's insides burned.
Not for her comrades' deaths. Her own impending doom flashed vividly in her mind.
'Damn, damn, damn...!'
Was there no way out?
Honestly, even dreaming of survival here meant abandoning all conscience—but she knew that already.
She wouldn't have learned demonic arts if she planned to live with a conscience.
Finally, in extreme anxiety, Suryeon made her choice.
"Sir Hero! Spare me, please!"
Suryeon cried out.
Cheongun, having tidied up the situation, turned at her shout.
There had been ten cultists excluding her; seven dead, only three left.
Cheongun bound the unconscious trio and dragged them to her.
"You saw, right?"
"Y-Yes?"
"I avenged you in your stead. Saved your life, took your revenge."
"..."
Suryeon trembled. She feared the madness in Cheongun's consistent nonsense.
"Be grateful."
"...Thank you, Sir Hero."
Cheongun nodded in satisfaction.
"Now, time for my business."
"Your business is...?"
Cheongun pointed at Suryeon.
"You deceived me. Time for revenge."
"..."
Crazy bastard, crazy bastard, truly insane!
Suryeon cried out in a quavering voice.
"Sir Hero, spare me! I was threatened too—I had no choice! You know that!"
"I know, I don't care. Evil is ultimately the last gasp of the weak."
"Y-Yes! I had no choice to survive! My family is held hostage... Please, spare me!"
Cheongun nodded.
"Such a story. No room for choice, then."
Tears streamed down Suryeon's face at his words.
"Yes! I... I really...!"
"Yes, no choice at all."
"Y-Yes! I had no choice! Truly! If you just give me a chance, I'll reform right away and..."
Then, Cheongun cut her off.
"No choice means you're the kind of person who had no choice."
"No! Give me a chance! Don't you need a servant? I'll serve or die if you command..."
Before her words finished.
Cheongun's hand brushed his sheath.
To the naked eye, the sword seemed only to slip out and resheathe.
Then—ting!—the sword cried out, a blood-red line tracing across Suryeon's throat.
Slowly, bubbles of blood welled along the line.
"Guh..."
Splurt—!
...Her head separated from her body.
Cheongun looked up at the sky.
The winter wind bit fiercely. The sky was clear. Snow blanketed the branches thickly.
The one untouched by sob stories. The one always right. The one deaf to others' views. The one ignoring the weak. The one seeing no gender in those to kill. The one never content to just take it.
Today too, I was summer.