The Poison of Sentiment
The Black Winged Heavenly Demon exhaled roughly. Though they were individuals who had grown lax in their training after aging, each one possessed heaven-given talent. They likely held power equivalent to mid-level executives of the Black Round Table. Of course, they had all met their ends at the hands of the Heavenly Demon, Oh Cheon-ryeong.
Leaving the mangled corpses behind, the Heavenly Demon repeatedly clenched and unclenched his right arm, which had turned a deep purple.
Curious about the poison's effects, the Heavenly Demon gathered qi in his right hand. A fierce pain immediately spread from his arm. As the purple hue continued to expand, he quickly identified the toxin.
It was the single poison his master, the Dark Winged Sword Saint, had once told him about. Since it was an extremely rare, deadly toxin made from ingredients found only in the western continent, the Heavenly Demon had never trained to build resistance to it.
Goddess's Black Blood.
If a warrior was afflicted, the poison would spread the more they used their muscles. If a priest was afflicted, it would spread the more they prayed. If a mage or martial artist was afflicted, it would spread the more they drew on their mana. And since qi and mana were fundamentally connected, the more the Heavenly Demon used his qi, the further the poison would spread.
Yet the Heavenly Demon did not panic. His master had said there was a way to detoxify even the Goddess's Black Blood.
The method was extremely simple: consume as many sweet things as possible—sugar, honey, and the like—then rest.
Before he could finish speaking, the Heavenly Demon shifted into a combat stance at the presence he sensed from behind. No matter who the enemy was, he was confident he could kill them in a single strike. Of course, attacking would spread the poison further, but it wasn't yet at a dangerous level.
However, the moment he saw that face, even the Heavenly Demon couldn't help but freeze.
For a brief instant, he let his guard down at the sight of the master he had believed dead. The Dark Winged Sword Saint did not miss the opening and swung his blade, severing the Heavenly Demon's left arm.
The Heavenly Demon's blood splattered across the ground. Gritting his teeth, he glared at his master's face. The darkness lifted, revealing features that had barely aged despite the passage of hundreds of years.
He took one step closer.
The Dark Winged Sword Saint took another step closer.
The phantom thief Dark Wing took another step closer.
The Sage of the Black Wings took another step closer.
The wandering knight Raven took another step closer.
The warrior Borona took another step closer.
The high priest Corvus took another step closer.
The wandering mercenary Crow took another step closer.
Raven Peony took one more step closer.
Lancelot stopped in front of the Heavenly Demon. With his usual expressionless face, he revealed a shocking truth.
The Heavenly Demon was so stunned he couldn't close his mouth.
Oh Cheon-ryeong remembered. The master who had taken in the heavenly orphan that was himself, given him a name, taught him martial arts, and—despite his blunt demeanor—could never refuse people's requests because of his deep compassion. He remembered the sight of that master's back as he was dragged to the execution ground, having taken the blame for a crime in his place because his sentiment ran too deep. Because that master had been taken from him, he had founded the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult to overturn the world, vowing never to give his heart to anyone again.
He remembered. When his other comrades spoke of their masters, he had seen them curse them as heartless, violent, or blunt... yet they had all worn faint smiles. They all regarded their master as a benefactor, a parent, a close friend, their one and only confidant.
At those words, the Heavenly Demon charged in fury. He reproduced the technique he had learned from the master he had once seen as his only confidant and parent, refining it in his own way. Black Wind Crushing Palm. Originally a sword-based slashing technique, it had been modified into a palm technique by Oh Cheon-ryeong. Under normal circumstances, it was a lethal strike capable of tearing Lancelot apart without a trace... but there were two things he had overlooked.
First, the technique had been honed through blood, sweat, and tears when he still had both arms. With his left arm gone, the technique was naturally unstable. And second...
The root of the technique was the swordsmanship taught by the Dark Winged Sword Saint. No matter how much it had been modified, it could never reach someone who had mastered its foundation.
Lancelot kicked the Heavenly Demon away with Black Heaven Kick. The previous strike had spread the poison further. The technique didn't work on Lancelot, and with his left arm severed, his stance was unstable. The situation had become overwhelmingly disadvantageous for the Heavenly Demon.
Lancelot looked at the corpses of those the Heavenly Demon had slain and spoke.
No matter that they were enemies who had crossed the line, to the Heavenly Demon they were former rivals who had once fought alongside him.
The Heavenly Demon hoped Lancelot would deny it. He didn't want to believe that the master who had never abandoned righteousness and chivalry could do such a thing.
Enduring the pain, the Heavenly Demon rose to his feet. He could not forgive the one who had toyed with his precious comrades. Master or not, it no longer mattered. He would kill the one who had trampled on the memories of his dear comrades.
Lancelot scoffed.
The Heavenly Demon tried to cast off the priestly affection he held for Lancelot. If he left this man alive, his other comrades would surely hesitate to kill him because of their own sentimental bonds and end up dead.
At that moment, the traitor appeared before the Heavenly Demon with a smile. The traitor knelt toward Lancelot.
Despite the Heavenly Demon's cry, the traitor lunged at him. He could have countered before the attack even connected. But the chains of trivial sentiment—the belief that this was a precious comrade—bound the Heavenly Demon's right arm. The traitor's hand pierced straight through his chest.
The Heavenly Demon had always been foul-mouthed and prickly, yet he had trusted this traitor more than anyone. But the traitor remained silent, offering no answer. Because she could not refuse the reward that this betrayal and silence would bring.