092 - Comrade
Thud. Thud. Thud thud thud.
An object bounced across the floor and came to a stop right in front of Nangong Yeong's feet.
In that instant, a faint bloody scent spread through the conference hall.
Nangong Yeong slowly lowered his gaze.
"Huh? What's that?"
"Gasp! A h-head!"
"No way! Did something happen to our later-generation disciple?"
"Those damn Demonic Cult bastards!"
The heavy silence that had blanketed the conference hall shattered into chaos once more.
The faces of the sect leaders and family heads turned pale in unison.
Even Jegal Gak widened his eyes in shock, fixing his stare on the head at Nangong Yeong's feet.
That face!
Jegal Gak was convinced that everything unfolding was a scheme by the Nangong family.
But how could the head of Nangong's eldest son be lying there?
He looked at Nangong Yeong with eyes full of disbelief.
...What?
Something felt off. A sense of wrongness crept in.
Even with his son's severed head at his feet, Nangong Yeong remained eerily calm.
No shock, no body rigid with rage.
To Jegal Gak's eyes, Nangong Yeong truly seemed utterly unperturbed.
"You're not surprised."
At that moment, a deep voice echoed from the doorway, voicing exactly what Jegal Gak felt.
Step. Step. Step.
All eyes turned to the man entering the conference hall.
"Jin family head!"
"Where have you been? It's about time!"
Buso-yong and Muheo welcomed Jin Muhon.
Behind him, the later-generation disciples poured in like a flood.
"Master!"
"Father!"
"Oh! You're safe!"
Covered in dust and grime, some sporting wounds here and there, but most of the later-generation disciples said to have been captured by the Demonic Cult had returned safely to their sects.
The only ones missing were those from Shaolin and Nangong.
Nangong Yeong slowly turned, locking eyes with Jin Muhon.
"Who's that guy?"
"Never seen his face before?"
"Ah, no! That's...!!"
Most didn't recognize Jin Muhon's face, but among the core righteous faction leaders gathered here, some remembered the Sword Demon.
Jegal Gak was one of them.
"Father! That's the Yunbong Sword Hero! The Nangong eldest young master set a trap, but he saved us!"
"That's right! If not for the Yunbong Sword Hero, we'd all be dead!"
"He killed the eldest young master and let us go!"
The later-generation disciples gazed at Jin Muhon with eyes still wide in awe and gratitude.
But the situation had shifted so abruptly that most sect leaders were left dumbfounded, unsure what was happening.
"That guy saved you?"
"Yes!"
"Yunbong Sword Hero?"
"Yes!"
Still, since he'd rescued their disciples, gratitude was only natural.
On the other hand, Jegal Gak felt his mind go blank upon confirming Jin Muhon's face.
"The S-Sword Demon, how is he here?!"
"What? Father, what are you saying? Sword Demon out of nowhere?"
Jin Muhon glanced at Jegal Gak, then shing—drew the Four Emperors Sword.
Nangong Yeong eyed the Four Emperors Sword with a chilling gaze.
Jin Muhon spoke.
"Are you Ilryeong?"
"......"
Nangong Yeong's eyes darkened coldly.
"In the end, you're the one ruining my plans again."
"Ruining again? I don't follow."
Whoosh—
A burst of red energy erupted from Nangong Yeong.
Thick with demonic qi and bloody scent, it swiftly filled the conference hall, clouding vision.
Blood Mist?
Jin Muhon watched Nangong Yeong's technique with curious eyes.
Wasn't this just like his own Blood Mist?
"What? What's going on?!"
"Sect leader! We should get outside first!"
The sect leaders and later-generation disciples rushed toward the entrance.
Then, a voice utterly unlike before rumbled low from Nangong Yeong's mouth.
"Who gave you permission to leave?"
Slash! Whoosh!
A sharp whistle cut through the Blood Mist.
"Argh!"
"Urk! What the—!"
One later-generation disciple collapsed, spraying blood.
The startled sect leaders and disciples recoiled.
Sizzle—
A red shadow slithered up, taking form.
Most had left their swords behind, rushing from the banquet.
Panicked voices erupted among the warriors.
"D-Demonic arts!"
"Nangong family head! What are you doing?!"
"Dispel this sorcery now!"
From within the Blood Mist, Nangong Yeong flashed blood-red eyes and let out a sinister chuckle.
"Heir of the Four Emperors?"
"Four Emperors—you mean the late Four Emperors Alliance leader?"
Boom—
Jin Muhon lightly stomped.
The Blood Mist surged violently, his aura spreading powerfully.
This steadied the panicked warriors somewhat.
"Muheo. You alright?"
Jin Muhon, who had been watching Nangong Yeong intently, spoke calmly.
Hearing that heavy voice, the later-generation disciples recalled the underground prison and calmed.
"Master! Don't worry! The Yunbong Sword Hero will save us!"
"...What?"
Nangong Yeong's Blood Mist had perfectly blinded the warriors' vision.
With disciples to protect now, the sect leaders couldn't even unleash their full power, merely scrambling to defend.
Muheo's shrill voice rang out belatedly.
"Hey! Jin family head! I'm over here! The Okhwa Palace Lord is with me too!"
Jin Muhon nodded, quickly scanning the hall.
A formation... Formation.
The energy meticulously covering the hall centered on Nangong Yeong.
It resembled Blood Mist and evil spirits, but this was a pre-set formation's power.
Without the underground opportunity, even Jin Muhon would struggle to break it.
He leisurely eyed Nangong Yeong.
"Ilryeong. Mimicking the Four Emperors?"
"......!"
Blood Mist and evil spirits.
Seeing the formation Nangong Yeong deployed, Jin Muhon read the fear embedded within.
Perhaps the emotion Ilryeong felt when bested by the Four Emperors.
"Shut your mouth! Who's mimicking whom?!"
Slash! Slash!
Evil spirits ambushed from Jin Muhon's left and right.
He casually swung the Four Emperors Sword, deflecting the attacks.
Clang! Claaang!
Then he unleashed Cloud Peak Mist Sea, churning the hall's floor.
He didn't know Ilryeong's true nature, but the talismans and spells suggested expertise there.
Rumble rumble—ROAR—
Suddenly, the ground shook.
The warriors flinched, scrambling to keep balance.
"Whoa? An e-earthquake?"
"The Nangong family head must be using sorcery again!"
Flames of blood-red fire blazed from Nangong Yeong's eyes.
"Stop, Four Emperors! How long will you block my path?!"
Whoosh!
Nangong Yeong kicked off the floor, charging Jin Muhon.
Jin Muhon halted Cloud Peak Mist Sea, stepping back with footwork.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
"You! You! Blocking me again!"
Nangong Yeong swung wildly, mad.
His madness-blazed eyes couldn't distinguish Jin Muhon from the Four Emperors.
Still, halting Cloud Peak Mist Sea had succeeded in preventing the formation's destruction.
The evil spirits now fully mobilized, attacking the righteous warriors.
Splatter! Slash!
"Arrrgh!!"
"Incoming!"
"Stance!"
The sect leaders counterattacked.
Swordless, they protected disciples with palm and fist techniques, adequately responding.
The problem: intangible evil spirits that wouldn't vanish no matter the strikes.
"Jin family head! These things won't die! How do we kill 'em?!"
Muheo's voice cut through the chaos.
Claaang! Clang! Clang clang!
Even Jin Muhon had no sure method now.
Destroying the formation was key, but Nangong Yeong gave no opening.
Then—
BOOM!!
"Huh?"
"Gasp!"
A massive explosion crumbled one wall of the hall.
The warriors stared in shock beyond the debris.
Through the dust, a handsome old man stood under moonlight, sword in hand.
"Geomje!"
"It's Geomje!"
The imprisoned Geomje had broken through the commotion to arrive.
Muheo lit up, greeting him.
"Geomje! What strength!"
Likely the formation vulnerable to external shocks. Yet for the inner energy-lost Geomje to shatter a thick wall with one strike was improbable.
Geomje drew something from his robes.
A fist-sized black sphere.
He grinned.
"Finally getting to use this Wall Thunder Bomb I took from the Mad Demon."
Geomje hurled it.
Nangong Yeong's eyes bulged.
"Nooooooo!!!!"
BOOOOM!!!
The bomb touched the formation.
The explosion chained through it.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOOOM! RUMBLE RUMBLE BOOM!!
"Arrrgh!!"
"Dodge!"
"Disciple!!"
Hell unfolded abruptly.
Space warped, Blood Mist tore.
"Arrrrrgh!!!"
Nangong Yeong roared skyward in fury.
Blood on the floor crawled toward him.
Soon, his body was engulfed from the ground up in rising red blood.
Plop! Plop! Plop plop!
The fierce blasts ended, debris raining like hail.
"Ugh..."
"Aigoo, I'm done for."
Jin Muhon surveyed through the dust.
Righteous warriors littered about, but damage minimal compared to the blast.
The peak experts had deployed aura barriers to mitigate.
Dust-caked Muheo glared daggers at Geomje.
"Geomje! You senile old fool! Trying to kill us all?!"
"Heh. Heh. Heh."
Geomje chuckled awkwardly, stroking his white beard.
Sect leaders shot him displeased looks but held back from Muheo's curses.
He was one of the murim's top elders, and above all, he'd come to save them.
"Amitabha. My thanks."
Shaolin Abbot Gongyo pressed palms together to Geomje.
Geomje laughed heartily, bowing slightly.
"As expected of the Alliance Leader, unlike the rest."
"Heh heh. Indeed."
With the formation broken, Gongyo faced Geomje as a benevolent monk.
Buso-yong narrowed her eyes, watching Gongyo.
So different from his earlier hounding of Wudang in the hall.
A gloomy voice, as if from the underworld, reverberated through the hall.
Hard to believe human—more like Yama's verdict.
All flinched, turning toward the sound.
Nangong Yeong.
No, what had been Nangong Yeong slowly lowered its head from gazing skyward.
"Gasp! W-what is that, Master?!"
"Hush!"
Nangong Yeong's face, covered in pitch-black blood, twisted grotesquely.
Jin Muhon narrowed his eyes, observing the change.
Ilryeong.
Clearly a high-ranking minion of Ma-seon, so Jin Muhon gauged Ma-seon's power through him.
Soon, Nangong Yeong's face morphed into a completely different man's.
Though formed of pitch-black blood, the rough outline was visible.
Jin Muhon said,
"Who are you?"
The man stared piercingly at Jin Muhon.
Jin Muhon furrowed his brow slightly.
The letter left in the underground prison had used "comrade" too.
"Comrade?"
The man glanced down at his blood-drenched form, shaking his head.
"......?"
The man, introducing himself as Huashan's Jeongun, shing—drew his sword.
Then, the Huashan sect leader cried out in horror from behind.
"Senior Brother Jeongun?!"
Muheo and Buso-yong's eyes widened belatedly.
"That guy's the Sword Ghost? Jin family head! Careful—!"
Before Muheo finished—
Slash—
The blood-dripping blade surged toward Jin Muhon's throat.