Chapter 119: Evil Blood Cult Bastards (7)
Chapter 119: Evil Blood Cult Bastards (7)
Threads wound around Eon Se-jeong’s neck, arms, and legs. Pitch-black threads forged from Astral Energy tightened one by one.
"Tricks!"
Enraged, Eon Se-jeong thrashed his limbs, tearing and scattering them.
The power held by each of those slender threads would have been more than enough to be considered a masterwork in the Peak Realm, but his opponent was in the Super Peak Realm.
At the level of Super Peak, one could ignore almost all martial arts belonging to the realms below.
That was what it meant to challenge the Upper Dantian. It was the minimum qualification to manifest an Intent Domain within one's own body.
A martial artist who reached the Harmony Realm could overlay their own mental image upon the fabric of heaven and earth.
From the moment the Upper Dantian was pierced, a 'God' came to dwell within the human soul.
It would not be an exaggeration to call it a state that transcended the martial arts of the mortal world.
It was a realm of myths and legends. The fact that there were so many Harmony Realm martial artists in the current Martial World was a testament to the advancement of martial arts. In the distant past, the Harmony Realm was considered the domain of immortals.
Those climbing toward the highest summit of that great journey were called Super Peak masters.
If a 'God' dwelt in the soul of a master who reached the Harmony Realm, then in the soul of a Super Peak martial artist, that 'God' was beginning to open its eyes.
They lacked the ability to manifest their intent outside the body, yet their inner self was a microcosm unto itself. They were in the process of refining themselves, piece by piece. Thus, the state reached when that process was completed was called 'Returning to Youth'—the pinnacle of perfection.
Eon Se-jeong was a seasoned Super Peak martial artist, a master in the prime of his life. He was not so weak as to be toyed with by the Astral Energy techniques of the Peak Realm.
Creeeeeak—!!
The threads of Astral Energy snapped one by one. Strands that could slice through steel like tofu were scattered and crushed.
It was only natural, as the physical body and Protection Aura of a skilled pugilist were superior to those of other martial lineages.
However.
Slither.
New threads wound around him again. Where one strand snapped, dozens more sprouted and coiled. Again, and yet again. They grew anew every time they were broken.
As if entangled in a spider's web, pitch-black lines were etched across Eon Se-jeong’s entire skin.
They couldn't inflict any wounds, nor could they penetrate his flesh on their own.
Nevertheless, Astral Energy was a star that symbolized destruction.
"The Heavenly Demon Art...?!"
Jeok Il-ryeon, who had been watching, let out a scream. Hearing her voice, Eon Se-jeong finally turned his gaze toward the woman.
She was a slender woman, like a willow branch. Beneath a crude human skin mask, her features—carved like fine jade against skin so pale it was almost translucent—were vividly visible.
Meeting his gaze, the woman slightly furrowed her brow.
"Your vision is keen."
The black lines wound around him once more. A bizarre weight was being added to the threads, which had already wrapped around him like a cocoon.
Each individual strand was something he could shrug off with a scoff, but the collective weight of all those strands felt as if he were carrying a thousand pounds—
It was a descent that felt as if his very soul were being sunk into the earth.
"Guh...!"
Eon Se-jeong gritted his teeth and took another step.
One more step forward. Toward the body of the weak inferior whom he could crush with a single punch.
The Heavenly Demon Art.
The absolute pinnacle of the Demonic Cult's guardian martial arts. It was a legendary divine art said to be no less than the true techniques of Zhang Sanfeng or the ultimate arts left by Bodhidharma of old. No one in the current Central Plains had faced it directly.
In fact, even in the Outer Martial World, they could be counted on one hand. The current Heavenly Demon rarely displayed his might before the world, and those who survived to tell of it were even fewer.
And now, such a martial art was being unleashed from the fingertips of that frail woman.
Eon Se-jeong’s mind went cold. There were only two people in this era known to have mastered the Heavenly Demon Art.
The current Heavenly Demon, the Limitless Divine Demon Im Won-un.
And the one who had ascended the Pavilion of Heaven after slaughtering all her kin—
"The Little Heavenly Demon... Im Hwa-yeong?!"
"How dare you speak my name so casually."
The affectionate, smiling gaze she had directed at Peng Hyeon-hwi from behind his back had vanished without a trace.
Not a speck of anger could be seen in her empty, pitch-black eyes.
A gaze stripped of all emotion turned toward Eon Se-jeong.
It was the look one gave to a mere insect.
How could this be? Eon Se-jeong’s martial power was clearly superior to hers. He was strong enough to tear her apart in an instant; the gap was so wide that 'significant' was an understatement.
Yet, Im Hwa-yeong’s gaze remained consistently arrogant from beginning to end.
"Should I pull out your tongue?"
"Why on earth is the Little Heavenly Demon here in distant Henan?!"
"Is there any reason I should inform you of my Cult's business?"
Wrapped tightly in threads, he felt the bizarre sensation of his weight increasing by hundreds of pounds. It felt as if his soul were sinking, and the flow of his internal energy was gradually being blocked.
Under the reign of the Heavenly Demon, all commoners must kneel.
Thud.
The Jiangshi of the commoners, who were being slaughtered by the Demonic Cult warriors, knelt all at once.
Among the approaching Eon family and Blood Cult warriors, those who had not reached the Peak Realm were trembling, struggling to resist.
Amidst this, Im Hwa-yeong alone walked forward with dignity. Each step she took seemed to shake the world. Boom.
A boundless chain of Astral Energy spread out from her, clutching the throats of everyone it touched and forcing their heads down. As if commanding them to bow before the supreme ruler of heaven and earth.
"Do not open your mouth profanely, nor dare to approach my husband."
"Run... you must run! Fist Lord!"
Jeok Il-ryeon, her head finally clearing, shrieked. It was a blunder. She had misjudged.
The presence of the Law Enforcement Elder, the Guardian of Statutes Seo Wi-ryang, was already a burden.
Seo Wi-ryang was the one who punished the deviations of cult members within the Demonic Cult. His martial prowess was famous throughout the Outer Martial World.
Even in the same realm, their foundations were different. A master of Seo Wi-ryang's caliber was someone Jeok Il-ryeon would have to team up with Eon Se-jeong just to have a chance of winning.
If it had ended there, it would have been fine. The martial force prepared here was by no means small. How many Peak Realm masters were present?
If they used the Blood Humans to buy time and utilized the Peak masters to deal with the Demonic Cult warriors, it was a death trap from which Peng Hyeon-hwi and Zhuge Yeong could never have found a way out.
But not anymore.
These were not ordinary spies of the Demonic Cult. If they were just mediocre spies planted in the Central Plains, it would have been enough, but the people here were the Little Heavenly Demon’s personal guard. They were the elite of the elite, handpicked from the Law Enforcement Unit.
The Blood Cult had gathered all the spies they had deployed for their schemes in Hebei and Shandong into this one place.
If they lost all of them here, the Cult's external operations would be severely crippled...!
Even if she survived, there was no future for Jeok Il-ryeon. If that happened, the Cult Leader would never forgive her.
"Ah... Ahhh..."
Jeok Il-ryeon bit her lip and looked around. The Blood Humans were being slaughtered.
Even if they weren't properly made with a lot of resources and time, they were being taken down so easily.
Even if the Blood Humans exploded, there were no martial artists among their enemies who would succumb to that poison.
It was difficult to see any effect beyond stalling for a moment.
In the meantime, the Blood Cult warriors were falling in vain.
"Is your struggle over?"
Seo Wi-ryang smiled thinly in front of her. He held his sword, pointing it straight at her.
The reason he hadn't attacked first wasn't because he was wary of her, but because he was prepared to protect Im Hwa-yeong at any moment.
Biting her lip at his leisurely attitude, Jeok Il-ryeon raised her hand.
"It hasn't even started yet, old man."
"A wicked breed with quite the spirit. Very well. Go on ahead and wait for your Cult Leader to follow."
A blood-red light swirled in Jeok Il-ryeon’s eyes. She would die if she fled, and she would die if she fought. The death trap she had prepared had become her own.
If so, if her end was already decided here—
"Eternal Life, Red-Stained Shamanic Prayer. One Flower Spirit Flame, Heaven Submits."
She bit the tip of her thumb, drawing blood, and then swallowed it back down.
She raised a hand and plunged it into her own heart, bursting it.
She shattered her origin and scattered it.
"The Supreme One is immortal, so old man, why don't you come with me and wait for your False Heavenly Demon?"
Spewing fragments of blood-red Astral Energy from the meridians across her entire body, Jeok Il-ryeon set herself ablaze and charged toward Seo Wi-ryang.
*
I swallowed hard, glancing at Hwa-yeong, who was radiating Astral Energy beside me.
Being close enough to feel her breath, I could tell exactly what she was doing.
Normally, at her level, there was no way to damage a master like Eon Se-jeong.
In fact, Eon Se-jeong was still approaching, scattering Hwa-yeong’s Astral Energy. He didn't even seem to have any significant scratches.
Hwa-yeong’s Astral Energy was unable to pierce Eon Se-jeong’s Protection Aura.
However, quite clearly, Eon Se-jeong’s feet were bound.
'The output is on a different level.'
Hwa-yeong was in the Peak Realm. To be more precise, she was around the middle stage. She hadn't even found a clue to challenge the Upper Dantian yet, but at the very least, she had fully mastered what she had learned.
But if I had to pick a clear difference between her and other ordinary Peak Realm martial artists, it was the output.
An almost infinite amount of Astral Energy was being released incessantly.
The power of each individual strand was less than my Thunderbolt City-Destroying Cannon, but their number was impossibly dense.
Threads of Astral Energy. If I had to describe it, that Astral Energy technique, which should be called steel wire, was scattered so densely it looked like a solid surface.
Even after pouring it out like that, even after all of it was snapped, she continued without showing any signs of exhaustion.
"Extreme Demonic Body...? What will become of the Martial World's future, for someone to have that at such an age?"
Zhuge Yeong lamented as he watched Hwa-yeong.
He was right. Hwa-yeong’s Middle Dantian had reached the point where it synthesized Demonic Energy on its own.
Like a snake drinking water and creating venom, she could draw out Demonic Energy and push it forward just by breathing.
Was it Stalin who said it? Quantity has a quality all its own.
In addition to that overwhelming output, Hwa-yeong had also mastered the Heavenly Demon Art. When those two elements combined, even at the mere Peak Realm, at the mere age of seventeen, she could bind a seasoned Super Peak master of the older generation.
'I should make sure not to mess with her in the future.'
I briefly reflected on whether I had done anything wrong to Hwa-yeong.
There were too many to count, so I stopped thinking about it.
Instead, I took a step forward. Toward Se-jeong, who was advancing bit by bit.
"Se-jeong. If it's too hard, it's okay to give up."
"You bastard...!! A brat who can't even withstand a single move dares!! A brat who can only survive by hiding behind the Little Heavenly Demon's back!!"
"Well, I'm certainly not as bad as you, who sided with the Blood Cult and didn't hesitate to commit all sorts of foul deeds just to take the heads of kids twenty years younger than you."
"You—!!"
Crack! The threads binding Eon Se-jeong all burst at once.
Astral Energy swirled as his fist approached my nose.
Even in that moment, I stood still, looking at him with my blade resting on my shoulder.
Clang—!!
Hwa-yeong, standing beside me, reached out again. Before the fist could reach me, the net entangled his entire body once more. His speed slowed down a notch.
And then, from my right, Zhuge Yeong’s fan snapped open.
Blue sparks erupted from it, and his talisman bounced back and burned out.
Eon Se-jeong’s first move lost its trajectory and veered off. Even so, the shockwave remained, and the Astral Energy scattered, deeply gouging the ground behind me.
"Whoa, what was that?"
"A protection talisman. I have three left."
"It blocks a strike from a Super Peak master?"
"The Little Heavenly Demon's help was significant. I cannot keep this up."
"Don't worry. It'll be over before then."
Eon Se-jeong turned his eyes to look at Hwa-yeong.
He seemed to have realized that no matter how much I provoked him, he couldn't land a meaningful blow on me as long as Hwa-yeong was intact.
Yes, strictly speaking, Hwa-yeong’s Astral Energy technique couldn't harm him yet.
It would be strange if it could.
Considering Hwa-yeong’s age and martial power, even this moment was close to a miracle created by her constitution.
But I was different.
Infinite internal energy? Transcendent divine arts? I had none of that.
My family can't do that. We don't have such profound martial arts.
The offensive moves I was taught were only a single technique—to put it simply, one punch and one downward slash. That was it for the Hunyuan Thunderbolt Blade.
But at the very least, that one thing.
That one thing was no less than the Heavenly Demon Art.
No, I was certain.
If it were a strike of the same realm.
In the domain of that one technique, the martial arts of the founder Peng Dan-san were superior to the divine arts of the Heavenly Demon of old.
After all, it was the secret legacy left by the greatest man under heaven of an entire era.
"Se-jeong. Your son's last words were 'Save me.'"
Shring.
I raised the blade over my shoulder. Hearing my voice, Eon Se-jeong’s eyes flipped again.
His rage turned into Astral Energy, and Hwa-yeong’s threads snapped strand by strand, sparking like fireworks.
Through the gaps, Eon Se-jeong’s body lunged forward.
"I will kill you—!! I will mash your flesh and split your head!!"
"If your father's last words are the same, then three generations of your family have received a fine education. So."
Clang!
New threads wound around Eon Se-jeong’s arm.
Two talismans stuck to the end of Eon Se-jeong’s fist.
Yes, Heavenly Demon on the left, Zhuge on the right. Hwa-yeong was my Heart-Protecting Fist, and Zhuge Yeong was my Linked Blade. Entrusting all defensive moves entirely to them.
In the stance of holding the blade, I concentrated all the Astral Energy of my Middle Dantian into a single point.
Thump, thump, thump.
The sound of a drum echoed. My heart erupted with thunder. The bundle of Astral Energy, turned into a thunderbolt, flowed through the meridians of my entire body, scattered into the fine vessels, and was released through my pores.
Thunder dwelt in the blade.
Kiiiing—!
Every time Eon Se-jeong’s body struggled, Hwa-yeong wavered, and Zhuge Yeong’s hands trembled.
It was like the difference between a human and a beast. At our level, he was a master we normally should never have been able to challenge.
That powerful predator, wounded, enraged, and running wild, whose skin had not been harmed by a single human sword.
But now, he was a beast bound and exhausted, gasping for breath within a cage, wrapped in chains.
"So, you say it too. Like your son. 'Save me.'"
Crackle—!!
The blade glowed white. Thunder danced. I guided it, carving out a trajectory.
The tip of the blade touched Eon Se-jeong’s neck.
Clang—!!
His Protection Aura blocked it. It was a struggle worthy of admiration.
Even without being able to use a defensive move, he was blocking the strike of the Thunderbolt Severing the Heavens solely with the performance of his Protection Aura.
So, this was the difference between the Super Peak and the Peak Realm.
How many of Zhuge Yeong’s talismans were left? How long could Hwa-yeong hold him back?
It wouldn't be very long.
But it wouldn't need to be.
Crunch!
I pressed my fingers over my heart and struck the acupoint.
Gathering the force in my Middle Dantian, I squeezed it out by force.
Using the exact sensation I felt when I took the Heavenly Silkworm Purple Blood Tear, I whipped my already activated Middle Dantian once more.
To describe it in modern terms, this was a kind of overclocking.
Blood flow acceleration to concentrate all force into a single point in an instant, at the cost of a massive burden on the body.
I didn't need to catch up to the martial power of the Super Peak.
It was enough if I could pierce the Protection Aura of the man who had exposed a weakness. If I could land a 'meaningful blow' just once.
It was enough if I could thrust that blow where I wanted, in the way I wanted.
After all, the death point of all living creatures is in the neck. Even if one reaches the Super Peak, they still die if their neck is cut.
"You brat—!!"
Urgency filled Eon Se-jeong’s fist. Breaking through Hwa-yeong’s interference, his fist finally approached my head.
But could he be faster than me, who had already pushed the blade into his neck?
Crunch.
If Hwa-yeong substituted the quality of her martial power with the quantity of her internal energy.
The Hebei Peng Family could substitute that entire total in a single moment with the quality of a split second.
Crunch!
Because we had no tricks or petty skills.
Because we had practiced our martial arts doggedly, just to strike off the opponent's neck and kill them.
Crr-crack—!!
We do not harbor 'Righteousness' in the foundation of our martial arts. Thus, we are the Unorthodox Faction.
The purpose of our martial arts is focused solely on killing. Therefore, we are the Black Path.
Riiip—!!
And because the depth of the martial arts we have built can surpass all other Black Path sects.
We are the Black Path’s First House, the Great Hebei Peng Family.
Slice.
The blade finally carved through the flesh, split the bone, crushed the sinews, and emerged from the other side.
Ssssss. Under the cold winter wind, the white-hot blade began to cool.
I looked quietly at Eon Se-jeong’s fist, which had stopped right in front of my nose, and said:
"You failed to collect the blood debt."
Eon Se-jeong’s head fell with a thud and rolled on the ground.
Holding the head up by the hair, I looked at the surviving Eon family warriors and spoke.
"Your father will have to do better than this."
One-Star Fist Lord Eon Se-jeong was dead.
Now, the only one left of the Eon family's direct lineage was Eon Do-cheon.
The Jinju Eon Family would burn before the year was out.
Without fail.