Chapter 84
Chapter 84
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: Desert Bloodstorm
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“Who are you?”
Master Qingjin addressed him without deference.
The burly man snorted dismissively, then slammed a massive great moon blade—at least six feet long—onto the table with a resounding thud.
As if on cue, the city gates burst open, and heavily armed swordsmen poured in like a flood bursting a dam. Each one drew a large blade, exuding a savage, ruthless aura.
They surged forward like a tidal wave, shoving the people clustered near the entrance deeper inside and blocking off the exit.
At the same time, men armed with swords and blades came rushing out from the kitchen in the back of the relay station. They too radiated the ferocity of wild beasts.
They sealed off the other exit connected to the kitchen.
Finally, the Mongolians who had been eating meat and drinking below the city walls picked up their enormous curved sabers one by one and rose to their feet. It was as if a pack of crouching wolves had all stood up at once.
The Mongolians gathered behind the burly man, forming a wall like a folding screen. With their comrades blocking front and rear, they had seized the flanks—what could be called the waist.
Over a hundred of these sudden intruders had appeared. In the blink of an eye, they had the entire relay station surrounded.
More than a hundred gleaming swords pointed at the people. It was overwhelming force backed by a terrifying presence.
The unexpected turn of events left everyone's faces drained of color.
The burly man's booming voice rang out again.
“I am the master of this desert.”
“The Sand King...!”
Someone murmured in a low voice.
The leader of the Red Wind Bandits—the strongest bandit gang ruling the southern desert region of the Evil Earth Wastelands—had finally made his appearance.
The allied force had many hidden masters whose identities weren't fully revealed, though not quite on the level of Touchang Salbul.
The Righteous Alliance, meanwhile, had the exceptional expert Master Qingjin. The sword formation of the Soul-Chasing Ten Ghosts, led by Hong Gongtak, was nothing to scoff at either.
But even combining these two forces, they were no match for the Sand King and his Red Wind Bandits.
Numbers alone made it impossible. Moreover, the Sand King was the legendary expert of the Evil Earth Wastelands, said never to have tasted defeat.
Master Qingjin was another story, but even Touchang Salbul couldn't guarantee victory against him.
The arrival of the Sand King and the Red Wind Bandits instantly overturned the tense standoff between the alliance centered on Touchang Salbul and the Righteous Alliance led by Master Qingjin.
Touchang Salbul spoke.
“To meet the hidden master shrouded in the desert sands like this... A pleasure.”
“I've heard the rumors about you old fogeys too. They say your staff work is something to behold.”
“I carry one just for self-defense, but how could it compare to your great moon blade that splits boulders with a single strike?”
“You've got a snake's tongue in a monk's head.”
“But you've come well-prepared, haven't you?”
“Cut the chatter. If you value your lives, don't twitch a finger from where you stand. My patience isn't infinite.”
The Sand King addressed Master Qingjin as well.
“You too.”
“Hmph. Do you not know this is no mere trinket for a bandit chief like you to handle? Must you really lead an army here and dye this place in blood before you come to your senses?”
Unlike Touchang Salbul, who smiled amiably and spoke politely, Master Qingjin had been blunt from the start.
And rightly so. The Sand King was barely in his late forties, while he was a renowned elder of the martial world. Moreover, he represented the Righteous Alliance here. It was unthinkable for the Righteous Alliance to cower before a mere handful of bandits.
Despite Master Qingjin's disrespectful tone, the Sand King's expression didn't change.
“You topple the Demonic Cult and now strut around like you own the world. Come at me anytime. Just remember one thing: the moment you step into the desert, not a single one of you will leave alive.”
Battles in the desert differ from those in the Central Plains.
When the Red Wind Bandits—armed with swift horses and heavy weapons—charge amid the yellow sandstorms, it feels like ten thousand heavenly troops are bearing down.
Those unaccustomed to such fights flounder blindly in the sandstorm's zero visibility. And inevitably, they lose their heads to blades they never saw coming.
Ambush tactics exploiting the desert's shifting terrain, arrows raining from the pitch-black night sky, and bandits bursting from the sand to sever ankles—these had made the Red Wind Bandits rulers of the desert.
In the Central Plains, who knew? But in the desert, the Red Wind Bandits were kings.
No matter how fearsome the Red Wind Bandits, taking on the Righteous Alliance was another matter. At the very least, annihilating them would cost the Righteous Alliance heavy losses—that much was certain.
Master Qingjin bit his lip hard.
Whether they could annihilate the Red Wind Bandits or not was beside the point. Right now, there was no way out. The Soul-Chasing Ten Ghosts alone couldn't handle them, and even if there was a slim chance, the damage would be severe.
If Touchang Salbul seized that opening to sweep them away, it'd be a case of catching a fish only to feed the dog.
Touchang Salbul was thinking the same. Neither side could advance or retreat, left nursing cold sweats.
The Sand King spoke.
“Listen up, my lieutenants. From now on, anyone so much as shrugging their shoulders gets their head chopped off without mercy.”
“Understood!”
“Understood!”
“Understood!”
Three thunderous voices cleaved the air. They came from the men at the entrance, the kitchen side, and behind the Sand King.
Each had a bizarre face—small, gaunt, and massive—like they'd planned it that way.
But judging by the murderous auras pouring from them, they were clearly top-tier experts.
Aside from Touchang Salbul, Master Qingjin, and Hong Gongtak, who could handle them?
Someone murmured lowly.
“Three Heads Six Arms...!”
Three Heads Six Arms originally referred to a monster with three faces and six arms.
But in the Evil Earth Wastelands, it denoted three grim reapers. Once demonic fiends who terrorized the Yellow River and Shaanxi region, they had now become the Sand King's limbs.
With the Sand King bringing the Red Wind Bandits, the Three Heads Six Arms appearing was only natural. But imagining them and seeing them were different.
The people's disappointment at losing the treasure turned to outright terror. If things went south and a slaughter broke out...
Amid the taut tension, the Sand King spoke again.
“Cicada Slough!”
“At your command.”
The waiter bellowed his response.
The people were shocked anew. They'd suspected he was one of them when they saw him mixed in with the bandits from the kitchen.
But for him to be Cicada Slough, the infamous cavity expert terrorizing Sichuan... Just how many masters were hidden in the Red Wind Bandits?
Seizing Zhangbodao seemed impossible now.
“Take Zhangbodao.”
“Understood!”
No sooner had he spoken than Cicada Slough reached behind his waist and whipped out something. It was a pitch-black glove fitted with razor-sharp steel claws, two middle fingers severed.
Unlike dragon claw hands forged from hammered steel or iron gauntlets with long spikes protruding from the knuckles when clenched, this was a combat glove specialized for cavity strikes, allowing freer finger movement.
Cicada Slough donned the gloves on both hands and glared at Yong Seol-ran's group. The leering waiter from moments ago was gone, replaced by a snarling beast.
“Urka. Help Cicada Slough!”
The Sand King's command rang out again.
A dozen Mongolians with curved sabers shifted positions, encircling Yong Seol-ran's group. Their movements were slow and ponderous, but once in place, they stood like an impregnable wall.
“Protect the Divine Maiden!”
Bang Dae-gang shouted.
His address for Yong Seol-ran had shifted from decoy to Divine Maiden. The ten surviving Blood Sword Corps members disguised as escorts quickly repositioned. They aimed their gleaming sword tips at the Mongolians, forming a sword formation so menacing it could cleave mountains.
Yong Seol-ran said quietly.
“Deputy Commander Bang, I'll buy us some time somehow. Take Zhangbodao and get out of here now. That's an order.”
“It's too late. With my lightness skill, I can't shake them and scale the walls. There are too many... experts.”
“But...”
“I'm sorry I couldn't protect you properly.”
“Deputy Commander Bang...”
Their brief exchange was heard by all, the surroundings deathly silent.
Cicada Slough sneered, then addressed the largest Mongolian among them.
“Begin!”
The hulking Mongolian Urka bellowed.
“Allahu Akbar!”
The Mongolians' heavy curved sabers came crashing down on the Blood Sword Corps in unison.
Led by Bang Dae-gang, the Blood Sword Corps advanced three steps, unleashing ferocious sword strikes.
Ten sabers and ten swords tangled chaotically in the air.
Clang! Kashing! Clang! Clang! Clang!
Metal screamed, sparks flew everywhere. The Blood Sword Corps' ragged breaths sensing death mixed with the Mongolians' incomprehensible shouts.
Bang Dae-gang faced Urka.
Unbeknownst to him, Urka had gone deaf from an injury sustained in a tribal chief battle in his youth.
Even after a decade with the Red Wind Bandits, he still couldn't speak Han Chinese. He read lips for orders or received instructions via Cicada Slough and others, but he was undeniably the fourth in rank—an expert.
He too was one of the monsters called Three Heads Six Arms.
Clang!
The clash transmitted immense power.
“What the...!”
Before he could be surprised, the curved saber now sliced at his waist like a gale. It felt like facing two blades.
But the Blood Sword Corps deputy commander hadn't earned his post by lottery.
“Where!”
Bang Dae-gang brought his longsword down on Urka's crown with cleaving intent. No matter how mighty the curved saber, it couldn't withstand the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's swift sword.
His prediction held.
Urka hastily withdrew his saber and twisted his body outward to dodge the falling blade.
But there was the trap. In that instant of midair suspension, Urka spun once and sprang back elastically, slashing down with his curved saber again.
Bang Dae-gang's neck lay in its path. A technique blending saber arts with Mongolian wrestling 'buh'!
Unaware of this, Bang Dae-gang panicked. How could that massive frame unleash such a swift counter?
‘A mere subordinate is this monstrous?’
Casting aside his underestimation, Bang Dae-gang stepped back sharply with his left foot and slashed his sword upward in a diagonal arc.
Skakang!
The descending curved saber and upward diagonal longsword raked past each other in the air. Then once more, the two weapons collided chaotically overhead!
Clang! Kashing!
Incredibly, Blood Sword Corps deputy Bang Dae-gang found himself tied down by a mere Red Wind Bandits lieutenant he'd encountered in the Evil Earth Wastelands.
Seizing the opening, Cicada Slough leaped in.
Piercing the infamous Nine Palaces Linked Ring Sword Formation of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult in a blink, he charged straight at Yong Seol-ran.
Midair, he thrust his left hand straight at her heart. Just a gloved hand extended, yet it was like a long blade flying forth.
Even in shock, Yong Seol-ran whipped a dagger like a hail of needles. The pitch-black blade was no ordinary knife.
Skang!
The dagger screamed upon meeting the glove. But as if prepared for this, the glove emerged unscathed.
Cicada Slough dropped straight down, then kicked off the table and city wall in succession, dropping behind Yong Seol-ran once more.
Four claws protruded from his downward-raking glove. Yong Seol-ran, unable to turn in time, had her slender back in their path.
One strike, and her spine would shred like rags; Zhangbodao would fall into Cicada Slough's hands.
Bang Dae-gang, the Blood Sword survivors, and the martial artists surrounded and watching—all bulged their eyes.
In that moment, a massive cauldron hurtled from the side at blinding speed. So fast it appeared as a huge black blur beside Cicada Slough.
The cauldron mercilessly smashed into Cicada Slough as he descended on Yong Seol-ran's back.
Dong!
Like a charging bull slamming a temple bell—a deafening roar!
Unable to withstand the mighty force, Cicada Slough ricocheted away at tremendous speed, smashing headfirst into the city wall.
Kwang!
The impact cratered the wall. Before he could scream, crumbling stone crushed his skull.
Only then did people notice the man. Still gripping the steaming cauldron's edge in one hand, he blocked Yong Seol-ran's front.
After smashing Cicada Slough, he hadn't even glanced at him embedding in the wall.
Landing before Yong Seol-ran, he whirled like a gale toward Urka battling Bang Dae-gang and swung the cauldron again.
Three Heads Six Arms monster Urka flailed his curved saber in frenzy, to no avail. It bounced off the cauldron's bottom and, absurdly, embedded in Urka's chest. Then the cauldron bottom smashed down again.
Dong!
Sweeping away three of his subordinates and five bandits from the kitchen side, Urka flew six or seven paces before shattering a table and crashing down.
No time to grasp what happened—the cauldron danced through the air.
Deng! Dong! Deng! Deng-deng-kung!
Before this cauldron—that could boil a whole pig—the Mongolians' stances meant nothing.
The ten Mongolian warriors battling the Blood Sword Corps on a razor's edge had no chance to react; they took full-body cauldron blows and went flying with dongs and dings.
No exchange of blows. It was pure one-sided beating, a thrashing.
The fight ended in an instant, before anyone else could intervene.
Cicada Slough was embedded in the wall, dead or alive unknown, unmoving. Urka lay pinned under a shattered table, blood gushing.
The ten Mongolian warriors who'd rampaged ready to annihilate the Blood Sword Corps now writhed like bugs scattered everywhere.
A bandit checking Urka shouted.
“H-He's dead!”
Another checking Cicada Slough yelled.
“H-He's dead!”
All eyes in the room turned to one man.
Heuk Do-san looked down at his right hand holding the cauldron and muttered quietly.
“Still can't control my strength.”