Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Nine Deaths One Life (16)
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Demonic Arts.
Martial arts pursued to the utmost by those who craved nothing but power, willing even to sacrifice their lives for it. They wouldn't hesitate to throw away their own lives if it served their purpose.
That was the defining reason they were called the Demonic Cult. The Orthodox Faction honed their mind and body through martial arts to ascend to higher realms, while the Evil Path also sought power.
However, they didn't recklessly throw away their lives or commit murder without a second thought. The Demonic Cult, on the other hand, broke laws and took lives without the slightest qualm.
From that perspective, Demonic Arts truly lived up to their infamous name. Of course, the depictions of Demonic Arts and the Demonic Cult varied wildly across wuxia novels, so nothing was set in stone.
Fundamentally, if one could endure the immense risks, it was possible to grow stronger faster than with orthodox martial arts. Even among them, the highest-grade Demonic Arts had hardly any side effects.
That said, there were inevitable limits. The greatest drawback of Demonic Arts was, predictably, their side effects. One could grow powerful quickly, but at the cost of twisted meridians that prevented reaching higher realms.
Or the ferocious internal energy might cause self-inflicted internal injuries as backlash. The types of side effects differed vastly by novel. And the Patriarch was surely no exception.
'Come to think of it, they said his personality changed abruptly a few years ago. From what I remember, one of the side effects of Demonic Arts is a twisted personality.'
Combining the common trope that those who cultivated Demonic Arts became savagely ferocious with Sua's account of the sudden change a few years back, it seemed likely he'd begun practicing them around then.
The wicked internal energy of Demonic Arts clashed with the pure energy of orthodox martial arts. True, internal energy did accumulate, so the practitioner might delude themselves into feeling stronger.
But that fell far short of the absolute expert ideal that martial artists ultimately pursued. The true absolute experts in wuxia were those who reached enlightenment through rigorous cultivation.
Even with internal energy as vast as the sea...
...if it couldn't be harnessed, it was utterly useless.
Worse, one might even be devoured by the uncontrollable tidal waves.
Sheer quantity of internal energy could elevate one to the Pinnacle Realm at best. Beyond that required profound insight into martial arts.
'But even so, there's no denying it's at least Pinnacle-level strength. Does that mean I've reached beyond Pinnacle myself?'
"Great Hero?"
"......"
The boundary between Pinnacle and First-rate was notoriously vague. It varied by novel, but sword auras typically emerged at the Transcendent Realm, with some depictions allowing them from Extreme Pinnacle.
Pinnacle practitioners were described as freely manipulating sword energy like an extension of their body at most. Even that was mere child's play to protagonists who started at Transcendent.
"Great Hero! Is something wrong?!"
"......Sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment."
A brief mental freeze, but Sua's forceful shout snapped him back. This wasn't the time for geeking out over tropes. He had to stop that monster fast.
"Demonic Arts are the martial arts of the Evil Path, drawing from inherently wicked sources of power. They're mainly used by the vile members of the Demonic Cult. You've truly never even heard the term?"
"It's the first time I've heard it from you, Great Hero."
"I see."
Never even heard the name? Perhaps in this world, the Demonic Cult operated entirely in the shadows. He'd devoured every wuxia trope back in his day anyway.
One pressing concern remained.
The Patriarch's life.
The Moyong Clan's warriors were desperately fighting to hold him back. But reverting someone fully consumed by Demonic Arts was next to impossible.
Despite the myriad dangers, the undeniable advantage of Demonic Arts was the tremendous power they granted. And the opponent had been accumulating it for years.
'With that much time cultivating Demonic Arts, judging purely by total internal energy, he's at least Extreme Pinnacle...... no, possibly Transcendent or higher. The silver lining is that he's weakening over time.'
If orthodox martial arts built walls slowly but sturdily, Demonic Arts were like a castle built on sand. They rose fast but crumbled even faster.
Proof was in the Patriarch's aura, already far diminished from earlier. Not only expending all his built-up internal energy, but wasting it to boot. An inevitable outcome.
Judging he could win now, he rose from his seat with a hardened expression. He didn't want to kill a father before his daughter, but there were no other options left.
"Sorry, Sua."
Now, he had no choice but to kill.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Living Hell.
The sole phrase that perfectly captured the horrific scene unfolding before her eyes. Warriors were butchered like swine by her father's blade, wreathed in ominous blood-red sword energy.
They'd charged with everything they had to stop him, but challenging an absolute Pinnacle expert was far more foolish than an egg striking a rock.
Blood flowed ceaselessly like a river across the ground, corpses piling up like mountains atop it. If this wasn't hell, then what could possibly describe it?
Overwhelmed by the atrocity, Sua could only sit paralyzed, doing nothing. She'd never even heard of such a sinister crimson sword energy.
"Could that be...... Demonic Arts?"
"......?!"
But the response came from an utterly unexpected source. Instinctively, Sua whipped her head toward it. Naturally, the Great Hero Nameless stood there.
'......Of course. Perhaps I already knew deep down.'
She'd sensed something off from the start. He seemed privy to every hidden detail without even seeing it firsthand—wisdom alone couldn't explain it.
Even she, who had devoured every book in the Moyong Clan library, didn't recognize that ominous power. Yet the Great Hero spotted it instantly. What else could that mean?
'The Great Hero must have battled the wicked since his youth!'
Strength reaching Pinnacle in his thirties, seasoned far beyond his years, knowledge beyond even the Moyong Clan. Finally, all the pieces clicked in her mind.
His rugged features bore the scars of brutal tempests, and the faint glimpses of countless wounds on his body during their time together. All undoubtedly from desperate life-or-death struggles.
And at that precise moment, Sua's eyes met Nameless's. Reading the mix of worry and regret in the Great Hero's gaze, she felt utter conviction.
'I can't know why the Great Hero walked such a hellish path. But this hellish scene before us can't be unrelated to him.'
"Sorry, Sua."
His weary voice sounded like self-reproach for failing to prevent this tragedy. He resembled a single weathered sword, honed to perfection through endless trials.
Unconsciously, Sua reached out toward the Great Hero heading into hell. But she couldn't bring herself to grab him. Even now, she could only rely on him.
'What unprecedented genius in Moyong Clan history? While I chased empty fame, the Great Hero fought his solitary bloodbaths alone.'
Thus, Sua kept her eyes wide open, committing every detail of Nameless to memory without missing a thing. His form was utterly crude.
Yet still, he advanced into hell.
And everyone gathered here bore witness. Those with eyes saw it; the blind heard it—the advancing figure, the footfalls.
Moyong Gang's bloodshot eyes locked onto Nameless. Instinct had detected the sole threat in this place.
But for one fully consumed by Demonic Arts, reading the opponent was nonexistent. Only destruction remained, soon erupting into the pinnacle of violence before their eyes.
Facing a blade no longer worthy of the term sword art—reduced to pure slaughter—Nameless gripped his sword with both hands and slowly raised it overhead. That was all.
Yet the earth trembled and the heavens quaked. Same stance, but such a vast gap arose from one thing alone: the resolve and will dwelling within.
The opponent was at minimum Extreme Pinnacle.
In the worst case, a supreme Transcendent expert.
Himself, generously at Pinnacle.
And even that was uncertain.
Truly, the strongest foe he'd ever faced, one demanding he stake his life for the first time.
Yet Nameless didn't evade. He stood firm. Absurd as it was, an overwhelming sense told him he could win. Trusting that intuition, he swung his sword.
Beyond full power.
A strike infused with utter desperation.
Only two outcomes: he dies, or the opponent does.
A heaven-shaking, all-or-nothing gamble.
The sword stroke, laden with deadly force, traced a crude line across the world. And in that instant, Sua alone lifted her head. Then gasped in awe.
A line etched across the lofty sky.
Even the clouds cleaved in two.
How could she not be stunned?