Chapter 68: Sword Demon, The Man Who Will Become a Demon God
Sword Demon, The Man Who Will Become a Demon God
Chapter 68: Sword Demon, The Man Who Will Become a Demon God
Neung Cheon-ak unconsciously took a step back, steadied his breathing, and calmed his mind.
The Sword Demon's brow furrowed as he watched.
'These old men are truly something.'
Neung Cheon-ak had immediately accepted the existence of Blade Immunity and was now preparing for a life-or-death duel with chilling composure.
Neung Cheon-ak and the man called The Youngest clashed again.
Here, "The Youngest" simply meant "the youngest"—not in their ranks, but in the sense that he was nothing more than a weapon forged for the Demonic Path's conquest.
The Sword Demon observed Neung Cheon-ak's swordsmanship closely.
While The Youngest gained experience, the Sword Demon also studied the Sword King's martial techniques. If he ever hoped to face the Sword God directly, he needed to grow endlessly.
Sparks erupted from their blades.
Gradually, The Youngest was being pushed back. The moment Neung Cheon-ak realized his opponent had Blade Immunity, he shifted tactics—grinding him down with Internal Energy expenditure. His goal was to exhaust The Youngest until he collapsed.
The Sword Demon, watching with displeasure, spoke up.
"The Youngest, are you just going to keep fighting like that? You already confirmed his swordsmanship surpasses yours. What did I teach you to do in that situation? Have you already forgotten?"
Though the Sword Demon was scolding his subordinate, it was Neung Cheon-ak who felt the most irritated.
At that moment, Neung Cheon-ak kicked The Youngest in the stomach, sending him flying back before asking:
"You're called The Youngest—what's your real name? It's disrespectful to fight a life-or-death duel without knowing your opponent's name."
The Youngest replied flatly:
"I don't have one."
Neung Cheon-ak frowned.
"How can a man not have a name?"
"I don't."
The Sword Demon cut in.
"Both of you, shut up. I allowed a duel, not a conversation."
Startled, The Youngest lunged forward, thrusting his sword like a spear—a crude technique no orthodox school would ever teach.
As Neung Cheon-ak deflected the reckless strike, The Youngest suddenly retracted his blade and grabbed the Sword King's sword bare-handed.
Crack!
Neung Cheon-ak unleashed his Internal Energy.
Thud!
The Youngest's head snapped back—
Neung Cheon-ak instantly split his sword's tip into three, stabbing The Youngest's face and throat in rapid succession before smoothly retreating.
Thunk! Thunk! Clang!
Neung Cheon-ak stared at The Youngest in shock.
He had been certain the eyes were a weak point—yet he couldn't confirm the results. He had definitely felt his blade pierce flesh.
When The Youngest lowered his hands from his face, bloody tears streamed from his eyes. Neung Cheon-ak exhaled sharply.
"So you are human. And if you're human, you must have a name."
The Sword Demon raised a hand, signaling the fight to stop.
"The Youngest."
"Yes."
"Are you blind now?"
The Youngest blinked rapidly, eyelids punctured, before answering:
"No. I can see."
The Sword Demon rubbed his forehead, then waved dismissively at Neung Cheon-ak.
"Senior, take a rest. Sit down. And you lot—" His voice turned venomous. "—useless bastards."
The moment he cursed, twelve swordsmen dropped to their knees. One spoke:
"Please enlighten us."
With Neung Cheon-ak watching wide-eyed, the Sword Demon began his lecture on dueling.
"How many times must I repeat myself before you idiots learn? What's the most important rule?"
One answered:
"Conceal Blade Immunity."
The Sword Demon pointed at The Youngest, whose face was still streaked with blood.
"And yet you expose your neck like that within moments? The fight was already decided there. The Sword King realized you couldn't be cut and shifted to an Internal Energy battle. Had it continued, The Youngest would've been drained dry—lying helpless even if the Sword King pissed on his face. You threw away your one chance at victory. If your opponent is stronger, the only opportunity is the moment they discover Blade Immunity. Hide it. Hide it deep. Understood?"
The swordsmen answered in unison:
"We will remember."
"Better to sacrifice an arm, a waist, a leg—anything! If you're lightly cut, act like it hurt. Fake it with everything you've got. Must I teach you every little trick?"
Neung Cheon-ak sighed deeply.
"Just... what are you people?"
The Sword Demon smirked.
"What do you think?"
Neung Cheon-ak spat:
"Not human."
The Sword Demon chuckled.
"Sharp observation. Since you're running your mouth, I assume you've rested enough. Next."
As The Youngest stepped forward again, the Sword Demon scowled.
"Not you."
The next in line moved to fight. Neung Cheon-ak's face twisted bitterly.
"I'd prefer to finish our bout. Why change opponents?"
The Sword Demon grinned.
"Why would non-humans keep their word? It's called a relay battle."
Neung Cheon-ak shot to his feet, sword drawn.
"You goddamn bastards!"
The Sword Demon wagged a finger mockingly.
"Senior, if you're going to curse, at least make it satisfying. Still holding back like a gentleman, I see. Hahahaha—"
Just then, a voice called from beyond the iron gates:
"Alliance Leader, your friend is here."
A friend to the Sword Demon? Was there anything more absurd?
With a wry expression, the Sword Demon turned to one of his subordinates.
"First Sword."
"Yes."
"Entertain him. Don't kill him. Correct his mistakes clearly if you see any."
The man called First Sword bowed slightly.
"Understood."
The Sword Demon stood and clasped his fists toward Neung Cheon-ak.
"Until next time, Senior. Stay alive."
Neung Cheon-ak scoffed.
"Why bother with empty courtesy?"
The Sword Demon shook his head as he walked toward the gates.
"I do it because you people like it. And honestly, I've grown to enjoy it."
He glanced back, offering another mocking salute. When Neung Cheon-ak's face twisted in rage, the Sword Demon barely stifled his laughter.
"Pfft— Ah, my apologies. Your face was just too funny."
The Sword Demon approached a man sitting alone in a scenic pavilion, clad in violet robes, drinking by himself in broad daylight.
The man brightened and gestured lazily.
"Ah, our Heavenly Sword Alliance Leader! Come, join me."
The Sword Demon smirked and clasped his fists.
"The Heavenly Sword Alliance Leader of the Martial World's Demonic Faction pays his respects to the Grandmaster of the Demonic Path—the Heavenly Demon."
"You madman, spare me that nonsense. It's neither funny nor impressive. Must you keep doing this?"
The Sword Demon cackled as he sat across from him.
"No snacks again, I see."
The Heavenly Demon shrugged.
"Your handsome face is snack enough."
The Sword Demon grimaced—his least favorite joke.
"Enough. Let's stop."
The man drinking alone bore the ridiculous title of "Heavenly Demon." Yet the Sword Demon was the only one who called him that. They had grown up together in the Ten Thousand Demon Palace, childhood friends who remained each other's only ally in the world.
The self-proclaimed Heavenly Demon took another sip.
The Sword Demon, who never drank, watched with concern.
"You're becoming addicted."
The Heavenly Demon nodded.
"Probably. But I drink to get drunk—it's fine. The only pleasure I allow myself."
"Then drink."
The Heavenly Demon pushed an empty cup toward him.
"Join me."
The Sword Demon shook his head. The Heavenly Demon poured himself another and downed it in one go.
"You once said something," the Sword Demon remarked.
"What?"
"That alcohol never betrays you. Drink, and without fail, you'll get drunk. Called it the most honest thing in the world."
The Heavenly Demon nodded.
"I did. And it's true. Few things in life are as fair as liquor. It treats everyone equally."
The Sword Demon studied him.
"So... you didn't come just to drown yourself. You've already scouted the next target?"
Another nod.
"The Black Path is preparing. Even their underlings are tense. We'll postpone dealing with their leader. Let them relax first."
"Then?"
"We strike the Sword Emperor."
The Heavenly Demon drank again—a hopeless drunk. The Sword Demon frowned.
"Any ideas? He's holed up in his family's stronghold. The entire Emperor's Council could've laid traps by now. We'll need to plan carefully. We shouldn't have let the Sword King slip away."
The Heavenly Demon smiled.
"Don't worry about him. Failure is common."
"So how do we take down the Sword Emperor?"
The Heavenly Demon poured more wine, grinning.
"I left traces of Moo Yong-chu at the Bloodless Gorge. The Emperor's Council found them. The Namgung Family and their forces will comb every inch of that place. Their defenses will thin. Even if things go wrong, we'll have openings."
The Sword Demon listened silently.
The Heavenly Demon continued:
"I've arranged fifty deaths in the gorge. Enough?"
"Maybe too few."
"They'll scatter toward Shaanxi when they die. Had our revered Ten Thousand Demon Palace Lord helped, we could've spilled a hundred or two more. But he grows colder by the day."
The Sword Demon replied flatly:
"When do we kill that 'revered' Ten Thousand Demon Palace Lord?"
"Why the rush? Wait. Everything has an order. It's not like we've waited just days. The Young Palace Lord will make the first move. And he must—for the sake of justifying our cause to Ten Thousand Demon Palace's followers."
"You sure? That coward wouldn't dare act against us."
"Oh, he's not that cowardly. Just... sensitive. The more deranged the father, the more emotionally complex the son. Anyway—we'll take minimal forces to the Namgung Family. Just you and me."
The Sword Demon nodded.
As the Heavenly Demon drank, the Sword Demon asked quietly:
"Who absorbs the Sword Emperor's power?"
The Heavenly Demon set down his cup.
"You, of course."
The Sword Demon searched his friend's face.
"Why do you keep conceding? It's unsettling."
The Heavenly Demon chuckled.
"What's there to fear? Are you worried that if you become the Demon God—" He twirled a finger near his temple. "—you'll lose yourself? Forget your friends? Kill me? If that happens, just cut off my limbs and leave me alive. I want to see the Demonic Path's reign with my own eyes before I die. Between friends, that much is possible, no? No matter how far you fall, you'll grant me that much."
The Sword Demon clicked his tongue.
"Why would I kill you?"
"It's just a saying. You're my only friend, even in a Demonic Path-ruled world. Could you enjoy life without me? Unlikely. Same for me. Why else would I yield everything to you? Become invincible. The Demonic Path's reign can wait—all I want now is for you to stand above all."
"I was taught to be wary of sweet words. Our 'revered' Palace Lord always said so."
The Heavenly Demon drained his last cup.
"Even if it's not the Demonic Path's reign—even if it's the Sword Demon's reign—I'll be content. Become the strongest under heaven. Keep me as your strategist, or if even that's unnecessary—" He smiled. "—discard me without hesitation. I'll close my eyes without regret."
The Sword Demon stared blankly.
"Are you drunk?"
The Heavenly Demon answered calmly:
"Not yet."