What, Summoning a Demon or Something?
"...Damn it. What's taking him so long?"
Wi Siheon, captain of the guard corps serving directly under the Evil Black Alliance Leader, grumbled as he scratched at his smooth scalp. Every last one of the Tang Clan's main fighting forces was up there lending its strength to the ritual — so who on earth had barged into the land of Sichuan and kicked up all this chaos?
"The orthodox sects? No — there's no way they'd know the Demonic Cult was involved."
If they had known, the Murim Alliance would have made contact with the Evil Black Alliance before anyone else. And if that was the case...
"The Right Guardian's faction, then..."
The Evil Black Alliance had split clean down the middle into two factions, one behind the Leader's Right Guardian and one behind his Left Guardian — a state of perfect enmity in which each side coveted the other's head. And heaven only knew how much money and power was being poured into keeping the orthodox sects from ever learning that fact. Which was precisely why, before the Murim Alliance stumbled onto the truth, they had to unite the factions by any means necessary and settle the matter of the next Alliance Leader.
"Then again, the Right Guardian's faction never did have many Supreme-realm experts worth a damn."
The enemy his senses had picked up felt like a powerhouse even among the upper ranks of the Supreme realm. If things went wrong and the guard corps vice-captain who had just headed out lost... that was something he could ill afford.
"...And I can't even go help him. Tch."
He stole a glance back over his shoulder. At the far end of the long, dark corridor, a faint blood-red glow was seeping out.
Wi Siheon shuddered as he recalled the moment the Left Guardian had handed down his orders.
"Whatever it takes — see to it that the cult's ceremony is not disturbed."
Fail even once, and a most unpleasant future would be waiting — that was the warning that had come with it.
"...Damn it."
In the end, he drove the massive saber in his hand into the ground and heaved out a sigh. If the Right Guardian's faction were to storm this place while he was up there, he would end up in a state literally worse than dead.
...
He chose to trust his comrade.
And how much time had passed? Footsteps sounded from somewhere beyond the corridor. It was too dark to see properly, but what he could feel through that darkness was unmistakably his comrade. Worry and dread fell away in a heartbeat, and Wi Siheon's face lit up.
"Seongtae...!"
...
"...Huh?"
It was right after that when he noticed something wrong. His comrade, the man who had gone out to drive off the intruders, was walking toward him from up ahead — soaked in blood, eyes hollow and unfocused.
"...Seongtae? That you, Seongtae?"
...
No answer came. Cold sweat trickled down Wi Siheon's spine. In a corridor where even light barely reached, a lone figure was moving wrong, drawing closer with every step. A man who wouldn't so much as answer when called — the sight was plainly unnatural. No, it went beyond unnatural...
"...Hey."
...
He pinned the feeling crawling over him down to a single word — the emotion most humans feel when confronted with something beyond comprehension. It was... fear. Plain and unmistakable.
A chill wind gnawed into his bones. His hand drifted, almost of its own accord, toward the hilt of the saber planted in the ground. And in the very next moment—
His oncoming comrade, burning away every last ember of his life force, hurled himself at Wi Siheon.
"Huaaaaaaaagh!"
His scream echoed through the underground corridor.
"Blood Soul Demon Art... not bad."
A demonic art of my own devising, born of blending the Soul-Seizing Art with the Blood Yin Demon Art — I had taken the principle of the Blood Yin Demon Art, which plunders blood and life force, and fused it with the Soul-Seizing Art, which eats away at the mind. The result was an art that stripped its victim of memory and emotion alike. Its one flaw was that without the most delicate control, the target's intellect would be destroyed beyond any hope of recovery... but then, it was built to be used on enemies in the first place, so who was counting? An enemy with a shattered mind follows my orders and my orders alone — really, what was not to like?
My gaze turned to the corpse of the man who had died burning out every last drop of his life force. A single bolt of lightning, called down from empty air, had already reduced the body to nothing but drifting ash.
Rrrumble—
Amid the scattering ash, I allowed myself a smile.
"Good work. Rest easy in the great beyond."
Of course, if such a thing as an afterlife actually existed, the odds were good he'd be burning in hell — but that was King Yama's problem, not mine, so I let it slide.
Before long, my gaze slid to the man sprawled beside the ashes. His trembling pupils stared up at me.
"Aiya."
"Y-you... you're... a Demonic Cult bastard... Don't tell me... betrayal..."
"What's this about betrayal?"
The man had burned through every last scrap of his strength contending with his own comrade, who had come at him without a thought for his own life — so much so that even with an enemy standing right over him, he couldn't so much as lift his weapon, slumped where he sat. I flashed him a bright smile and cupped his face in my palm. Peering at the terror brimming in his eyes, visible between my fingers, I felt the corners of my mouth curl upward past all restraint.
"For it to be betrayal, we'd have had to be on the same side in the first place. We never were, now were we?"
"Nnngh..."
Strength flooded into my grip.
"Hgh... hghaaaaaah!"
His scream rang through the corridor. And in the very next moment—
Splat—
A sound like a watermelon bursting echoed off the walls, and blood and brains spattered in every direction. A sticky, unpleasant sensation lingered in my palm.
...
I burned every last trace of it away with the Samadhi True Fire and rose to my feet, gazing quietly down at the two corpses with more than a trace of regret.
"...Can't even eat this one."
To a practitioner of the Blood Yin Demon Art, the corpse of a master was an elixir in its own right. In my case, though, I had to keep the balance of my energies in check...
"...Tsk."
A shame, sure — but far better than a ruptured dantian or a mind corroded by the art. Which was exactly why getting my hands on the Taegeuk Divine Pill quickly mattered so much.
I called back to Dang Jeong, who was trailing along far behind me.
"Let's rest a bit before we move on."
The mind of a Supreme-realm master was a fortress. I had only managed to bore my way in because I had already cracked it open beforehand — and even then, the mental energy it had cost me was staggering.
"...Do as you wish."
Dang Jeong said, bowing his head with careful deference. In the eyes visible between the strands of his hair, fear and awe lived side by side.
Watching him, a wholly random thought popped into my head. Ah — I miss Seolhyeon. If she saw me like this, would she wear the same expression Dang Jeong did? And come to think of it, that reminded me of how she'd slapped my hand away just before we entered Sichuan.
"...Haah."
Just what kind of punishment would it take to make her actually reflect? I knew. The moment Cheon Seolhyeon came home safe and sound from her mission, I was going to hold her in my arms all day long. That would be her penalty for daring to refuse my touch — and she would just have to accept that penalty gladly.
My gaze turned to the end of the corridor, where a faint light was spilling out. It was a deep, dark red. Staring at the bloody glow seeping through the gap in the door, I muttered.
"There's more than one in there..."
Only when I drew close could I finally tell. What waited inside was no single entity. It was a colony — the wills of countless souls fused into one mass. At least twenty in the Transcendent realm, at least five in the Supreme. And with all of that compounded together, the sheer scale of its aura and power... it was roughly on par with what I had felt from a single strike of the Taegeuk Sword Emperor, Un Hyeon.
"I thought I was going to die blocking that one, back then."
Taking the measure of the strength I carried now and setting it against that strike from memory, I rose from my seat and started walking. A smile curled at the edge of my mouth.
"Let's go."
I heaved the door at the end of the corridor wide open — and only then did the true shape of what was unfolding in this place reveal itself.
Beyond the door stretched an enormous cavern. Across its floor, a formation drawn in human blood shone bright, and towers of countless stacked skulls rose into view — grotesque spires heaped from bones of every thickness and length. And at the very heart of the formation knelt a single old man, forehead pressed to the ground, droning something over and over.
The instant I took it all in, understanding burrowed into my mind. The formation painted in blood was both offering and array, and the towers of bone were its pillars. And the array itself was a summoning circle — one built to call down [the power of someone].
Staring at it, I burst into a hollow laugh.
"...Well, what is this, a demon summoning?"
Since when did the martial world have anything like that? And it was pretty rich, I had to admit, for someone who'd already been through freak occurrences like a past life and a regression — twice — to be thinking that way. But whatever it was, I hadn't the faintest intention of leaving it alone.
"Dang Jeong."
"...Yes?"
"We're smashing the formation."
"How... do you mean?"
"Break the pillars."
Destroying it was simple. The towers of bones — bring down just one of the pillars forming the array, and the ritual would end then and there.
Dark crimson blood-demon qi condensed and coiled along my blade. And that was the moment—
A chill—
A skin-crawling sensation swept down my spine. Instinct took over; I kicked off the ground, unfolded the Heavenly Emperor Taegeuk Step, and threw myself clear of the spot where I'd been standing.
And from somewhere far off, something came slicing through the air toward the place where I'd been standing.
Whoosh—
And in the very next instant—
KWA-BOOOOM—
Along the wake of whatever had torn past, green explosions erupted by the dozens. They reached so far that part of my arm, which I hadn't quite managed to pull back in time, caught the edge of one — and the flesh it touched began to rot black.
"...? What the hell, poison?"
Poison. And hidden weapons. What that meant was clear.
From the darkness, far from the blood-red glowing altar, figures clad in green robes began to reveal themselves one by one. Their eyes burned red in the dark.