Chapter 25: Blind Revenge (1)
Chapter 25: Blind Revenge (1)
Chapter 25: Blind Revenge (1)
Translation: Godtl
The axe, wrapped in murky black demonic energy, and a fist coated in powerful energy, came hurtling toward Cheon Hwi-da.
“Th-this can’t be!”
Following Tang Jincheon’s order to observe the fight, the Dark Soul Unit commander hastily gathered his internal energy and slipped two flying daggers between his fingers.
In Murim, it wasn’t uncommon for someone to defeat an opponent stronger than themselves. Variables like stamina, injuries, surprise attacks, mistakes, and innate talent could all create such opportunities. If things aligned just right, even a novice could plunge a knife into the heart of a master. And once stabbed, nine times out of ten, the person would die.
As someone skilled in using hidden weapons and poison, the Dark Soul Unit commander understood this better than anyone else.
However, there were limits.
It might be possible to handle a single poisoned opponent, like the ones Tang Sowol had dealt with earlier, but facing two uninjured peak-level martial artists was impossible.
Although the killing intent Cheon Hwi-da had displayed earlier had sent chills down even the commander’s spine, his martial prowess was still only at the first-class level.
The commander pulled his arm back, ready to hurl the daggers, their edges shimmering with internal energy.
If he acted now, he wouldn’t be too late. While fully deflecting the attacks was impossible, he could at least alter their trajectories enough to spare Cheon Hwi-da’s life.
Just as he was about to release the daggers, a cold hand gripped his arm.
“That’s enough.”
“Patriarch!”
Tang Jincheon’s voice was calm, yet firm. The commander protested loudly,
“We can’t let the benefactor of our clan die like this!”
“He won’t die. Just watch.”
Tang Jincheon’s voice, at first glance, sounded indifferent, but as someone who had served him faithfully for years, the commander could tell—there was clear anticipation in his eyes.
As if bewitched, the commander turned his gaze to where Tang Jincheon was looking.
There stood Cheon Hwi-da, a relaxed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he swung his sword.
“Ah…”
It didn’t take long for the commander to understand why Tang Jincheon had stopped him.
***
An axe and a fist came rushing in from both sides. In response, I stepped forward and swung my sword.
My target wasn’t the axe blade, but the handle beneath it, just beyond where the axe’s destructive aura ended.
I wasn’t aiming to block.
Axes, by nature, excelled in delivering overwhelming force in a single strike. The techniques of axe-wielders focused on maximizing that destructive power. Even without the aura-enhanced blade, the handle still packed enough power to be dangerous.
Thus, my intent wasn’t to block the axe—I intended to use it.
Clack!
A dull sound echoed as my sword struck the handle, sending a portion of the immense force down my wrist.
Rather than resisting, I allowed my stance to collapse, bending my body sharply without losing my footing.
My waist bent so far that my upper body was nearly parallel to the ground. A half-beat later, the fist meant for my head sliced through empty air above me.
This maneuver, sometimes called Iron Plate Bridge, wasn’t something I could normally execute so quickly. However, thanks to the axe’s force pushing me down, I managed to evade the fist entirely.
Realizing that his own attack had been used against him, the axe-wielder gritted his teeth.
“You bastard!”
He raised his leg in a hurried attempt to kick me, but he couldn’t be faster than me—I was already moving.
Twisting my waist to stand upright, I slashed at his lifted leg.
Sssk.
Because of my awkward position, the cut wasn’t deep, but it struck a critical spot—the inner thigh. His movements would be hindered for a while.
After landing the blow, I exploded my internal energy from the Bubbling Spring acupoint at the soles of my feet to propel myself backward.
My soles tingled slightly from the impact, but it was a small price to pay compared to taking a fist wrapped in powerful energy head-on.
Boom!
The ground where I had been standing moments ago caved in as the martial artist’s fist slammed into it.
Keeping my distance, I calmly observed the two assailants.
First, the axe-wielder. Though he was large, he wasn’t truly a giant—his tall frame was skeletal, his bones clearly visible beneath his skin. The sight of such a frail figure wielding a heavy axe was unsettling, but it also made him unmistakably familiar.
Demon Axe Dan Muk-sang.
In my past life, he had been one of the few peak-level experts of the Demonic Cult. He was also someone I had killed once before.
Thanks to mastering a martial art that allowed him to unleash explosive strength, he could wield immense power despite his emaciated frame. However, the side effects of that martial art had damaged his core energy, leaving him with his current skeletal appearance.
As for the other one—the bare-fisted fighter—I didn’t recognize her.
Her appearance was bizarre: completely hairless, without even eyebrows, and her dark, cracked skin resembled a decayed tree trunk. Judging by her frame, she appeared to be female, but that was all I could infer.
Most likely, she had mastered a type of external martial art that hardened the body.
Both of them were grotesque in their own ways, but that wasn’t unusual for those who practiced demonic martial arts.
Such techniques allowed rapid growth in strength and sometimes even enabled the user to surpass their natural limits. But the price was often severe physical side effects.
While I was deducing their martial arts, the axe-wielder—Dan Muk-sang—pressed on a point on his thigh to stop the bleeding and glared at me.
“So it wasn’t the Tang Clan’s daughter, but you we should’ve targeted all along.”
“You talk as if killing me would’ve been easy.”
“Heh. Typical hypocrites who call themselves righteous—gathering in numbers to gang up when things get tough. Still, watching you squirm at the end might not be so bad.”
Dan Muk-sang let out a raspy, phlegm-filled laugh, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t delude yourself. I meant you’re going to die by my hands.”
I relaxed my shoulders and brought the tip of my sword to eye level, spreading my feet shoulder-width apart with my left foot slightly forward for better movement.
It was the most basic stance—so simple it could barely be called a formal technique.
I activated my Raging Wave Death-Stealing Art, once again pushing it to its peak. This time, instead of focusing my killing intent on a single point, I let it radiate outward, spreading across the area.
Dan Muk-sang, now within my killing intent’s range, instinctively frowned.
“Damn it! How can someone so young have such a vile killing intent?! We can’t let him live!”
“Hah. You Demonic Cult bastards want to kill every martial artist you meet. If someone overheard you, they might mistake you for a noble monk or priest.”
As I chuckled, the female martial artist seized the opportunity and charged at me.
Her plan was clear: she intended to catch me off guard while I was distracted by conversation. However, my killing intent had already enveloped the entire area.
To me, killing intent wasn’t merely a feeling—it was the foundation of my martial art, woven into my internal energy and will.
In this space filled with my killing intent, nothing could escape my perception. The slightest movement registered immediately.
Before she could reach me, I twisted my body to evade her.
Swish!
Her razor-sharp claws, enhanced by demonic energy, narrowly missed my chest, leaving a faint tear in my clothes.
She was using a combination of fist techniques and clawing strikes, with her hardened, elongated claws radiating an ominous aura. They would have been quite dangerous—if they had hit me.
Before she could withdraw her outstretched arm, I brought my sword down.
Clang!
“Tsk…”
Though I had aimed for her wrist, the sound that rang out was metallic, as if I had struck steel.
Her hardened skin was so tough that, aside from a few cracks in the calloused surface, my attack hadn’t inflicted any real damage.
With widened eyes, she clenched her teeth and swung her other fist toward me. But a direct attack like that, after her failed ambush, was easy to read.
I moved a half-beat faster, dodging her punch and slashing at her exposed armpit.
Clang!
This time, I targeted a softer spot, but the result was the same—I managed only to deepen the cracks slightly.
There’s no such thing as a perfect martial art. Even the Diamond Body technique of Shaolin monks, known to be virtually indestructible, had been shattered by the Heavenly Demon. So a demonic martial art like hers must have a weakness as well.
Thankfully, her techniques were relatively simple—perhaps because her hardened body restricted her flexibility, or maybe due to her lack of natural talent. This simplicity was a common trait among those who forcefully grew stronger through demonic martial arts.
If I wanted to, I could keep dodging her attacks until she exhausted herself.
But I didn’t have that luxury.
“Graaah! I’ll kill you!!”
After all, I wasn’t fighting just one opponent.
Dan Muk-sang, his skeletal body launching off the ground, came charging at me.
His reddened skin and faintly glowing eyes indicated that he had triggered his energy-bursting technique.
He was faster and more dangerous than before. Dodging with the same technique I had used earlier would no longer work.
But knowing that my opponent was none other than Dan Muk-sang, I didn’t need to worry.
There was no reason to fear a martial art I had already overcome once.
Sensing the clawed woman’s leg flying toward me, I sidestepped her and dashed toward Dan Muk-sang.
Whoosh!
The force behind his axe was immense, creating a sharp sound as it sliced through the air, aimed directly at my head.
I leaned back half a step, the axe grazing the tip of my nose before slamming into the ground.
Boom!
The axe buried itself deep into the earth. Though Dan Muk-sang quickly pulled it out, I was already slashing at him.
Splat.
My sword sliced deep into his hand, exposing the bone. Despite the injury, he showed no sign of pain, gripping his axe tightly as blood poured from his wound.
He began swinging wildly—diagonally, vertically, even thrusting upward at times. Each swing carried enough power to crush a person instantly, and his speed increased with every strike.
The oppressive force of his attacks, coupled with the fierce aura coating his axe, was like a storm of death. His eyes, now completely bloodshot, were unfocused. It seemed the explosive energy he unleashed had driven him mad.
To an ordinary warrior, the sight would have been overwhelming, but I had faced something far worse—the future Dan Muk-sang, far stronger than this.
Moving continuously at the center of the storm, I weaved through his attacks, countering where I could.
Even with my speed advantage, avoiding every blow wasn’t possible. I dodged what I could and disrupted the trajectory of what I couldn’t by meeting it with my sword.
Had I not trained relentlessly at the Tang Clan or consumed the Hundred Poisons Pure Blood Pill that Tang Yujin gave me, my body wouldn’t have been able to endure the strain.
But it wasn’t perfect.
Even if I avoided the axe, the black aura surrounding it nicked my body, leaving shallow cuts. Demonic energy seeped into my wounds like poison.
Still, I couldn’t retreat. Creating distance would allow Dan Muk-sang to regain his rhythm and give the clawed woman an opening to attack from behind.
And besides, I wasn’t the only one accumulating injuries.
Sssk!
A chunk of my hair was sliced off. One of Dan Muk-sang’s fingers was severed.
A red line appeared on my arm. Dan Muk-sang’s side was torn open.
Blood from my shoulder splattered on my cheek. Dan Muk-sang’s right ear was sliced off.
Flesh was torn from my thigh. The tendons in Dan Muk-sang’s left wrist were cut.
The skin on my neck was grazed. Dan Muk-sang’s core was shattered.
A fresh wound overlapped the scar on my chest.
Thud!
And finally, my sword pierced Dan Muk-sang’s heart.