120
Chapter 120
"KWAANG!"
The earth trembled from the impact, disrupting the footwork of the demonic warriors charging from all sides.
The shockwave surged from the ground, traveling up sturdy thighs before erupting from the waist. The twisting of muscles, large and small, interlocked like gears, amplifies the force rising from the lower body.
The overwhelming power was fully absorbed by the right arm, its intricate muscles swelling and writhing.
At the moment the bulging muscles screamed in protest, the demonic warriors saw the massive fist resting at Ma Yeon-ho’s waist.
They weren’t looking because they wanted to—their eyes were drawn to it against their will. Every instinct in their bodies screamed warnings of impending death.
The moment they saw the fist, it was already streaking toward them like a meteor, impossibly fast.
"BOOOM!"
Heavenly Iron Fist - Collapsing Wave Shatter (崩浪碎).
An invisible explosion erupted from Ma Yeon-ho’s fist, unleashing a deafening shockwave.
The demonic warriors caught in the trajectory of the strike vanished as if parts of their bodies had evaporated.
"KUAACK!"
One demonic warrior, his right arm and half his upper torso blown away, collapsed with a shriek. But Ma Yeon-ho’s eyes remained as cold as the ice of the Northern sea.
"Hmph!"
With a rough exhale, Ma Yeon-ho swept his left foot across the ground like a whip. The earth split apart, swallowing five or six demonic warriors who had been trying to flank Woo Tae-gang.
Seizing the opening, Woo Tae-gang lunged forward, crushing a demonic warrior’s chest with his shoulder before smashing his fist into an incoming sword, snapping it in half.
"Holding up?"
"Yes, Master. I’m fine for now."
"PUK!"
After obliterating a demonic warrior’s head with a single punch, Woo Tae-gang quickly regrouped beside Ma Yeon-ho, catching his breath.
Though he couldn’t sweep away dozens of enemies in a single strike like his master, Woo Tae-gang was steadily grinding them down one by one.
Ma Yeon-ho glanced at his panting disciple.
‘Tch. Starting to wear out, huh.’
Even though Woo Tae-gang was considered a rising star in the martial arts world, his skills weren’t yet fully matured.
The fact that he was holding his own against an endless tide of demonic warriors without a single injury was commendable.
Just then, a massive shadow loomed over Ma Yeon-ho’s head.
Without hesitation, he twisted his torso and threw a diagonal uppercut.
"CLANG!"
Though it was merely flesh meeting flesh, the collision sounded like two massive weapons clashing, sending a thunderous reverberation across the battlefield.
The shockwave sent nearby demonic warriors flying like leaves in a storm.
The middle-aged man who had landed gracefully despite the force chuckled, his laughter crisp and clear.
"Hahaha! So it’s true—you really did crush the Blood Fist Emperor’s skull. As expected of the Iron Mountain Fist King."
Ma Yeon-ho’s chest muscles twitched in irritation at the grating voice.
"Who are you?"
The man merely flexed his fists, smirking.
"Just a nameless wanderer in the martial arts world. But in the Black Night Palace, they call me the Mountain Crusher."
Black demonic energy, thick as smoke, coiled around the Mountain Crusher’s body as he clashed his fists together, grinning at Ma Yeon-ho.
"They say you’re the closest to the title of Strongest Fist Under Heaven after defeating the Blood Fist Emperor. My fists are itching for a fight."
The oppressive aura radiating from the Mountain Crusher was so intense that even the surrounding demonic warriors instinctively backed away.
‘The Mountain Crusher… A supreme expert like this was hiding in the shadows? The evil path truly defies common sense.’
Under normal circumstances, Ma Yeon-ho would’ve responded immediately to such provocation. But instead, his eyes flickered around, assessing the battlefield.
The Mountain Crusher knew why.
"Haaah. Iron Mountain Fist King, why so tense?"
His gaze slid past Ma Yeon-ho to Woo Tae-gang, half-hidden behind his master.
"Is now really the time to worry about your disciple? What’s so important about him? Just let him die—you can always train another. Right now, let’s enjoy ourselves."
Ma Yeon-ho’s neck cracked audibly as he tilted his head.
"KHAHAHA!"
A booming laugh erupted from Ma Yeon-ho before he shook his head.
"Yeah, I get it now. You people really are demons."
Veins bulged at his temples as his voice turned as bleak as the wind sweeping the plains.
His muscles swelled with suppressed rage, releasing a crushing pressure that made even the demonic warriors’ knees tremble. It was like being crushed under the weight of a mountain.
"If these fists can’t even protect a single disciple, what’s the point of being the Strongest Fist Under Heaven? Pathetic."
"Tch. How boring."
Done talking, the Mountain Crusher launched himself forward, his tree-trunk thighs propelling him like a cannonball.
Ma Yeon-ho immediately lowered his stance, driving a devastating punch into the ground.
"Earth-Sundering Strike (覂陸激碎)."
"KWAAAAANG!"
In an instant, fissures spiderwebbed across the battlefield, spewing forth geysers of dirt and stone.
"Fall back!"
"Dodge!"
"ARGH!"
The demonic warriors who had surrounded Ma Yeon-ho were swallowed whole by the tidal wave of debris.
With a single punch, Ma Yeon-ho had reshaped the landscape as if triggering an earthquake. Yet the Mountain Crusher bulldozed through the storm of earth and rock, his fists shattering everything in his path.
By then, Ma Yeon-ho already had his fist cocked at his waist. His entire body coiled like a spring before unleashing a cannon-like strike.
"UHAHA! That’s more like it!"
The Mountain Crusher roared with laughter as he met the blow head-on.
Just as their fists were about to collide, the space behind Ma Yeon-ho distorted.
Woo Tae-gang, who had been forced back by the Earth-Sundering Strike, widened his eyes.
‘What—?!’
From the warped space, a black sword shot out, aimed straight for Ma Yeon-ho’s back.
It happened so fast that Woo Tae-gang’s shout barely left his lips before disaster struck.
"MASTER!"
He screamed with more desperation than ever before. But cruelly, the sword was already inches from piercing Ma Yeon-ho’s spine.
Woo Tae-gang wanted to leap forward, but these two supreme experts existed in a different dimension of speed—it was futile.
Just as helpless rage flooded his vision—
"SHING!"
A violet flash streaked down, embedding itself in Woo Tae-gang’s bloodshot pupils.
"CRUNCH!"
The sound of metal snapping echoed in his ears.
The mysterious black sword, which had emerged from the distorted space, was now cleanly split in half, spinning uselessly in the air.
The owner of the sword, his eyes narrowed to slits, stared at the intruder who had just appeared.
A white robe, fluttering violently from the descent. Embroidered on its sleeves were vivid violet plum blossoms.
But what drew the eye more than the robe was the sword that had split the sword—a blade of abyssal black, shimmering with an eerie violet light. It exuded a sinister allure that stole the gaze of all who saw it.
"How absurd. A sword forged from a mixture of Hancheol and Black Iron can be broken so easily?"
"Hancheol and Black Iron? As if that matters."
"Hmph. With that sword, I suppose it’s possible."
The sword’s owner—a man in a white mask covering everything below his nose—nodded in reluctant understanding at Mu Hwi’s sarcastic remark.
Ma Yeon-ho exchanged a brief glance with Mu Hwi before wordlessly charging at the Mountain Crusher, his leg techniques erupting with explosive force.
As Mu Hwi felt the shockwaves of their clash, he tilted the Sim-myeong Sword forward.
The white mask worn by the sword’s owner, covering everything but the mouth, was unmistakable.
"I don’t know why the Shadow Emperor is working with the Demonic Lord."
The Shadow Emperor—the leader of the Thousand Kill Sect, one of the most infamous assassin organizations in the martial arts world.
And now, he stood right before Mu Hwi.
No—he vanished the next instant.
Before the broken sword even hit the ground, the Shadow Emperor disappeared from sight. Even though Mu Hwi never took his eyes off him, he couldn’t fully track the movement.
Whether it was a movement technique or invisibility, Mu Hwi couldn’t tell. But he remained calm, rotating his body smoothly.
"CLANG!"
Two blade strikes hammered down in succession against the Sim-myeong Sword as it swept upward.
The Shadow Emperor had already repositioned himself behind Mu Hwi, wielding a straight sword in one hand and a curved one in the other.
His attacks were a chaotic storm—sometimes a frenzied barrage meant to shred flesh, other times a graceful dance scattering petals of blade energy.
Wielding both swords with terrifying proficiency, the Shadow Emperor intermittently hurled hidden weapons to further disrupt the flow of battle.
Mu Hwi couldn’t help but be impressed.
An assassin who failed in stealth and ambush typically lost half their combat effectiveness.
Yet, even in a direct confrontation, the Shadow Emperor displayed the full might of a supreme expert.
He had long since transcended the limits of a mere assassin.
Their movements became a blur, their feet nearly invisible from speed.
"Shadow Emperor. With skills like yours, why ally with the Demon Lord?"
"A brat who just stepped into the Transcendent Realm dares lecture me?"
"SHIIING!"
Effortlessly deflecting Mu Hwi’s dozens of sword slashes, the Shadow Emperor retaliated with a relentless flurry of sword strikes.
Just as Mu Hwi shattered the onslaught, the Shadow Emperor twisted his waist, thrusting the straight sword toward his ribs.
Mu Hwi swept his sword downward, deflecting the strike, but the Shadow Emperor spun rapidly, slashing diagonally with the curved sword.
"Cutting off the Sword King’s arm must’ve gone to your head. Think you can sever mine too?"
Mu Hwi smirked.
"Talkative for an assassin."
The Shadow Emperor disappeared again. Simultaneously, Mu Hwi activated the Fragrant Step Technique, his form scattering like an afterimage.
"CHING!"
The two reappeared in completely different spaces, their weapons clashing mid-air.
The Shadow Emperor, blocking the Sim-myeong Sword with crossed swords, glared at Mu Hwi.
"You—"
"Getting familiar now."
The Shadow Emperor couldn’t believe how quickly Mu Hwi had adapted to his movements.
But contrary to his disbelief, his sword strikes grew even more refined. His wariness of Mu Hwi, who pressed forward relentlessly, scattering petals of violet energy, had heightened.
The two spun in synchronized circles, unleashing waves of blade and sword energy.
When a barrage of iron spheres rained down, a wall of violet petals erupted in response.
The Sim-myeong Sword, having shattered dozens of the projectiles, began multiplying in mid-air.
"SHWOOOSH!"
Dozens of points were simultaneously carved into the air. Each one bloomed like a seed, unfolding into a plum blossom.
Even as the battlefield filled with a fragrant storm of petals, the Shadow Emperor continued vanishing and reappearing, striking from blind spots.
But it was getting harder.
His pupils darted relentlessly, tracking the ever-changing trajectory of the Sim-myeong Sword. The variations seemed infinite, growing more intricate and dazzling by the second.
Even the Shadow Emperor, a master of dual swords, was beginning to struggle.
The violet petals now filled the air densely, and the blossoms had multiplied to over forty, their beauty impossible to ignore.
Plum Blossoms Gradual Bloom (梅花漸漸).
With Mu Hwi at the center, the only way to attack now was from a distance with hidden weapons.
‘He’s telling me to give up stealth.’
Maintaining this technique must’ve been draining, yet Mu Hwi held firm—likely to restrict the Shadow Emperor’s freedom of movement.
‘Cocky brat.’
Normally, he would’ve scoffed and waited to see how long Mu Hwi could keep it up.
Patience was an assassin’s greatest weapon.
But now wasn’t the time.
Seeing the Mountain Crusher and Iron Mountain Fist King reshaping the battlefield with craters, the Shadow Emperor adjusted his grip.
‘No time.’
He had to kill this upstart Sword Saint quickly and behead the Iron Mountain Fist King.
Decision made, the Shadow Emperor abruptly widened the distance.
Like a bird spreading its wings, he raised both arms diagonally, lowering his stance.
"KWAANG!"
The instant his foot stamped the ground, he shot forward like an arrow, piercing through the sky.
As his arms swept forward, the two swords interlocked, spinning violently like a windmill.
"SHWAAAA!"
The rotating blades shredded through the petals and blossoms, cleaving Mu Hwi’s floral domain in half.
Silver Moon Flying Crow (銀月飛烏).
The endlessly shifting trajectories of the spinning swords weaved an unpredictable path straight for Mu Hwi’s throat.
Mu Hwi simply raised the Sim-myeong Sword high, violet light gathering at its tip.
The nameless technique that had shattered the Hundred-Faced Old Demon’s Black Iron Greatsword.
Sword-Breaking Pursuit (破劍求過).
Now, Mu Hwi has devised a new Dokgo-style technique to follow it.
A technique to shatter the Shadow Emperor’s swords and save his senior, the Iron Mountain Fist King.
Blade-Breaking Advance (破刀求先).
Just as he resolved to execute it, the Sim-myeong Sword, which had been bending like a soft sword, suddenly straightened, radiating the weight and solidity of a heavy sword.
"WHOOSH!"
The Sim-myeong Sword, infused with the intent of Blade-Breaking Advance, twisted strangely mid-air before tearing through the atmosphere.
At the same moment, the Shadow Emperor, now a streak of light, flashed past Mu Hwi.
The two stood back-to-back, frozen for an instant.
"Tock."
A soft sound made the Shadow Emperor look down.
His mask, split cleanly in two, lay on the ground.
A thin red line slowly formed across his face, following the path of the split.
Even as blood dripped from the stinging wound, the Shadow Emperor turned to face Mu Hwi.
The lower half of his face was now a mask of crimson.
Mu Hwi observed him coldly.
"I was aiming for your arm, but your head got in the way. Pity."
< What’s the point of being the ‘Strongest Fist Under Heaven’? > End.
< The Demonic Cult’s way. >