Better to Die, or to Kill (3)
The elite of Black Ghost Fort instinctively drew their swords.
What stood before them were Demonic Sect followers charging in like madmen.
What filled their ears were the beastlike howls of the Demonic Sect disciples.
The skin on their bodies stung from the demonic energy pouring off the enemy, and the stench of blood burned at the tip of their noses.
All five senses began to scream warnings.
“Huff! Huff!”
Ragged breathing spilled between trembling lips.
And then—
“Hwaaaaaaagh!”
With a piercing shriek that could have been a human scream or the cry of a hungry ghost, the Demonic Sect disciples crashed into the elite fighters of Black Ghost Fort.
“Kill them!”
Black Ghost Fort proved that its reputation was no empty thing, surging forward to meet the charge of the Demonic Sect disciples.
Swaaash!
A saber wrapped in fierce sword energy flashed through the air at impossible speed.
It was a single, devastating strike, carrying the will to cut down everything that rushed at them. Even if the body was tense with fear, the blade’s sharpness did not lag behind its usual skill in the slightest.
That lightning-fast slash flew straight toward a Demonic Sect disciple’s arm. It looked ready to cleave it clean off.
What? That’s all it is?
The saber struck the disciple’s arm exactly as expected, burying itself mercilessly into flesh. But at that very instant, the elite fighter who had swung it widened his eyes to their limit.
Crk!
His saber, which should have sliced the arm away and returned to him, was trembling where it had lodged in the disciple’s limb.
W-what…?
It was like striking a tough, sticky patch of rubber with a dull wooden knife. The eerie sensation—something that should never have been felt when cutting a human arm—sent a chill down his spine.
Then he saw it.
The Demonic Sect disciple, still unfazed despite the saber lodged in his arm, reached toward him with a hand full of savage delight.
Before he could even grasp what that meant, the disciple’s fingers drove through his skull.
Crunch!
“Aaaaaaaagh!”
A beastly growl rang in his ears. It was a raw, feral killing intent, so vivid it seemed as though a rank stench of blood would pour out any moment now.
“You filthy unbeliever!”
Eyes blazing with madness, the disciple yanked the hand free from the skull and slashed downward. The demonic nails ripped flesh from bone, tearing at his face.
Crack-crack-crack!
“Aaaaghhhhh!”
A wretched scream tore through the air.
It was only natural. Anyone would scream like that if their face were ripped away in one go.
“M-my face! Aaaagh! My faaace!”
Having lost both eyes as well, he reflexively raised his hands to grope at his face. But even that did not go as he wished. Before his hand could reach, the disciple’s next strike tore out his throat.
Fwoooosh!
Blood spurted from his neck like a fountain. Hot blood soaked the Demonic Sect disciple’s black robes and ran down them in streams.
“Kh… kuh….”
“Hahahahahaha!”
The disciple, having surrendered himself completely to madness, did not stop with one kill. He swung his clawed hand again and again. Demonic energy coated his nails as they tore into the still-living body, ripping flesh apart with merciless ease and spraying blood in all directions.
Fortunately or unfortunately, his comrades did not have the luxury of being outraged by the sight. Before they could even be shocked, more Demonic Sect disciples rushed in and fell upon them.
“The Heavenly Demon descends!”
“All demons bow in worship!”
Their voices boiling like fury, their repeated chants sounded like desperate incantations.
They were the signal for the slaughter to begin.
Crack-crack-crack!
The sound of demonic hands ripping flesh from bodies rang out with eerie clarity even over the chaos of the battlefield.
“Aaaaghhhhh!”
“Kraaah! Aaagh!”
Those whose flesh was torn away alive and whose bones were ripped free burst into one agonized scream after another.
“The Heavenly Demon descends! All demons bow in worship! The Heavenly Demon descends! All demons bow in worship!”
“Die! Die! Die! You filthy unbelievers! Hahahaha! Haha! Hahahahahaha!”
A storm of blood swept through the field.
Chunks of flesh torn free from bodies flew through the air, and blood poured down like rain. In that blood-soaked downpour, the Demonic Sect disciples burst into ceaseless laughter. Their eyes, red with madness and bloodlust, never stopped searching for the next victim.
But Black Ghost Fort was not taking it lying down, either.
“You maniacs!”
Black Ghost Fort’s Wen Hyeong spat out a curse and drove his sword forward. His blade, surging ahead at terrifying speed, stabbed straight into the eye of a charging Demonic Sect disciple.
Crack!
Seeing the blade pierce the enemy’s eye, Wen Hyeong cried out in triumph.
“How do you like that!”
Grasp!
But at that very moment, the disciple whose eye had been pierced raised a hand and seized the blade still lodged in his face. Then, with only one eye left, he calmly looked at Wen Hyeong.
“Hhk!”
In an instant, Wen Hyeong paled and desperately tried to pull his sword back. But his blade would not budge from the disciple’s grip, as though it had been pinned beneath a great boulder.
“Hngh….”
Then the disciple slowly pulled the sword out of his eye.
Even dying in torment would not have been strange, but instead he gave a grotesque smile.
“W-wha…?”
Wen Hyeong, completely shaken by the overwhelming sight, lost all color in his face and staggered back, trembling.
Crack!
The price of his panic was, naturally, death.
Crek. Crk-crk! Crck-crck-crck!
A hand plunged through his chest, rummaging through flesh, snapping bone, driving deeper and deeper in.
“Kuhk….”
Blood gushed from Wen Hyeong’s mouth in heavy spurts.
“The Heavenly Demon… descends.”
Madness swirled in the disciple’s lone eye. A bright smile spread across his face, so wide it seemed almost to hook at the corners of his ears.
“All demons bow in worship!”
Crk-crk-crk!
The disciple tore Wen Hyeong’s heart free in one motion.
“…….”
The still-beating heart, blood streaming from it, lay on the disciple’s slick, blood-soaked hand.
Wen Hyeong, though not yet fully dead, stared blankly at his own heart with empty eyes.
“Hwahahahat!”
The disciple then swung the arm holding the heart like a whip and smashed it against Wen Hyeong’s head. Wen Hyeong’s skull burst like a ripe melon struck hard.
Every death was a tragedy, but for Wen Hyeong at least, this might have been a blessing. He no longer had to witness this horrific scene with his own eyes.
“The Heavenly Demon desc—”
The disciple slowly lowered his gaze. Seeing his own eyeball lying on the ground, he grinned.
“Your blood… will bring us peace!”
Crush!
He crushed his eyeball underfoot without a shred of hesitation, then threw his head back in a roar before surging forward again. Demonic energy rose from his body like smoke, and from the one remaining eye, scarlet bloodlight continued to spill in streams.
“Y-you insane…!”
Black Ghost Fort’s elite fighters, shaken by the force of that fury, recoiled with stricken faces.
Of course, that did not mean they had simply offered their necks up to the enemy. Training was etched into the body, not the mind. Even with half their fighting spirit gone, their weapons still faithfully reproduced the countless lines their bodies knew by heart.
But those lines never had the chance to complete themselves.
Crk.
The moment their blades touched the Demonic Sect disciples, they failed to cut and instead were seized by the very bodies they struck. Those slick, adhesive bodies clung to the weapons like melted rubber, as though coated in glue.
Damn it! What kind of martial art is this?
For anyone who lost their weapon, the result was always the same.
Thud-thud-thud!
A head torn clean away rolled across the ground. The body, no longer even fit to be called human, was swarmed by the Demonic Sect disciples as they hacked it to pieces.
They were like a school of starving fiends latching onto prey.
“Die, you monsters!”
A stab driven with all his strength sank into a disciple’s chest. The man’s robes tore open, and the blade clearly pierced flesh and went in.
But…
It drew only a few drops of blood. Worse, the skin around the wound surged toward the blade as if it had a will of its own. Then it began to constrict around the weapon embedded in its body.
“Kheh… heh heh.”
The disciple looked at the man who had stabbed him with glittering eyes.
“Eh…?”
Blood, forced back up, seeped through the cloth covering his mouth, but the disciple paid it no mind. He reached out and thrust nails sharper than blades into the wrist that held the sword.
Crag!
The nails, ripping through flesh with infuriating ease, met bone.
“Ghk!”
Wretched pain, as though his insides were being seared by fire. Under that torment, the Black Ghost Fort fighter could not endure it and gaped wide-mouthed.
“Hwahahahat!”
The disciple burst into laughter and lunged forward, shoving his hand into the open mouth. Then he seized the lower jaw and began to pull with tremendous force.
Crk! Crk-crk!
Bone shrieked in a grotesque protest, and unimaginable pain followed. In the eyes of anyone who understood what that pain meant, indescribable terror gathered.
“Ahh… uh… aaaaagh!”
Crk-crk-crk!
The man’s jaw was ripped free from his face, and blood poured out like a waterfall. His whole body convulsed under a pain he had never even imagined.
The disciple slowly drew the sword out of the man’s stomach. As the blade slid free, the hideous hole that had been left there began to close at once, as though it had been waiting for that moment. It was a miracle so strange that even seeing it with his own eyes was not enough to believe it.
“Hngh… hngh….”
“...You filthy unbeliever.”
The disciple, smiling cruelly, approached the convulsing man and raised the sword in his hand. The point was aimed at none other than the man’s mouth.
“N-no—!”
Thrust!
The long sword drove into his throat.
Seared through the body by a red-hot iron skewer, the man finally rolled his eyes back and fainted. Through his muffled ears came the whisper of a devil.
“You will never, ever be saved. Filthy unbeliever.”
Flash!
With that, the disciple swung his sword and cut the man’s body in two. Then he hurled the blade to the ground and shouted:
“Kill them! Kill them all! Make them pay for their sin by slaughtering every one of those who dare not know the greatness of the Heavenly Demon!”
“The Heavenly Demon descends! All demons bow in worship!”
What followed was another solemn chant, entirely mismatched with the grotesque madness that spawned it.
Fanatics who had lost their god.
Demons who had lost their place.
All the rage and hatred they had piled up until now was erupting at once.
Even with their throats slit, their bodies pierced, their arms severed, they did nothing but rush forward, biting and butchering the people in front of them. As if their own lives meant nothing so long as they could bring down an enemy, they surrendered themselves wholly to madness, eyes rolling back in their heads as they charged.
“Aaaagh!”
“P-please, save meee!”
Some lost their will to fight. Some bared their teeth and resisted to the very end. Some fled with their backs turned. Some, even after losing an arm, still rammed their swords into the enemy.
But the result that met them was cruelly the same.
Death. A truly absolute ending.
Slaughter so brutal even the corpses were left mangled beyond recognition soaked the world in blood. Wearing the armor of fanaticism and wielding the blade of doctrine, the devils poured out their hatred for every living thing all at once.
The Demonic Sect. That dark name hidden in the abyss of the martial world was blazing like a flame of blood.
The earth of Hangzhou was being dyed with demonhood.
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