Chapter 124
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 124
Chapter Title: Mythical Demon Spirit Armor (2)
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Anyway.
I stepped into the cave hiding Cheonmuja's legendary masterpiece, the Mythical Demon Spirit Armor. It sat at the end of a branch-like ravine. The cave sloped downward into the earth.
Without knowing the precise spot, anyone would've mistaken it for just a hole where the stream drained away. Cheonmuja must've loved messing around with the local terrain. If sheer luck had led someone this far, handing it over would've been the least he could do.
The entrance was narrow.
I sliced it straight open with qi energy to widen it. Had to, if I wanted to haul the treasure out later.
I left the carriage parked at the mouth.
Three zhang down from there, it dropped vertically, sealing off any light.
A musty stench hung in the air, but the space stayed bone-dry. The water inlet funneled off elsewhere. That kept the inner traps safe from moisture.
Hummm!
I formed a cluster of fist orbs.
He'd probably hoped for daylight visibility even in pitch black, but Mujin wasn't falling for Cheonmuja's little ploy. He lit the cave interior bright as noon. No point wasting mental effort on something trivial. He tapped his endless reserves of inner energy, vast as an underground aquifer.
"Holes all over the place."
"Step wrong, and hidden darts fly out. Just follow my lead."
"Not a sinkhole setup, right?"
"No, sir."
"Good enough."
Mujin planted a true step.
Boom!
Ripples surged from where he'd landed, burrowing inward. Hidden darts rained down from every side like a hailstorm. Each one in that downpour carried a lethal dose of poison.
Psssh!
His protective aura erupted, pulverizing every incoming dart.
"Dumber than I figured."
The darts fired in sequence as you pushed deeper. Stand still, and you'd end up a pincushion. Invaders would naturally press forward, triggering the mechanisms underfoot. But refuse to budge, and it was nothing but wasted shots, like now.
Mujin melted the darts in place, then unleashed fist orbs at the blocked passage ahead.
Shwaaaa! Chwaaaa!
The propelled orbs bored through, carving a safe path.
Cheolho, Nareung, and Yukchil gaped at the sheer dominance on display. For the trap's own creator, this had to be unthinkable. Factoring in the darts' shape, force, durability, and the passage layout, Cheonmuja's setup crumbled to pointless scrap in Mujin's single stroke.
The next stretch was a breeze.
His fist orbs pierced exactly as needed.
Mujin and his companions strolled along casually. Some mechanisms had already shattered under his true steps, neutering the traps. A blatant oversight from Cheonmuja's finicky installation. He'd never dreamed of an intruder this brutally direct.
The following trap spanned fifty zhang of flowing poison blood water. Earthly Extreme Poison Blood Water—underground venom from the depths, acidic enough to dissolve anything on contact.
"Just gotta reach that far, yeah?"
"Yes, but—ah!"
Mujin had void treading. This pit was meant to test wall-climbing skill, probing stamina and inner energy.
"Wall-walk whenever."
Nareung, Cheolho, and Yukchil stared blankly as Mujin strolled through empty air. Cheonmuja's trial-by-trap agonies fizzled into nothing. Still, they had to hug the walls. The poison blood had corroded the interior stone. One slip, and they'd melt into a puddle.
Fist orbs. Fist winds. Void steps.
Any normal human would've burned through their inner energy by now. Not Mujin—his well never ran dry. He vaulted over mortal limits without breaking a sweat.
Beyond the poison blood expanse lay a toxic bog. Nameless venomous swarms choked the entryway tight.
Roooarrr!
A ferocious blaze ignited at Mujin's fingertips, riding qi winds to engulf the bog. The bugs resisted ordinary fire, sure—but not this.
White flames.
Mujin's threefold true fire had evolved to flames' pinnacle: supreme white flame. The white-flame gale scorched through, melting even the walls into liquid flows.
Driiiip!
Not a drop of venom survived. The bog's horde vanished to ash in the blaze.
Gasp!
Trailing behind, Cheolho, Nareung, and Yukchil tsked in disbelief. Mujin bulldozed every trap with bottomless power.
'What does that make me?'
Nareung had barely scraped through on antidotes and poison garb. Even then, half a gak was her limit. Longer, and she'd have liquefied into blood sludge.
The bugs had oozed from wall vents. The white gale sealed every one shut. Survivors—if any—would take ages to burrow free. Total wipeout.
'The real deal's up next.'
Everything so far was warmup for the finale. Nareung filled Mujin in on the traps as they went.
"Corpse soldier?"
"No vital aura."
"So it blocked you from going farther in?"
"Not your average corpse soldier."
"Got it. Drop it."
Corpse soldiers varied wildly by grade. Most had exploitable seams, like iron cannon weak spots. Find them, and takedowns were simple. Cost-to-efficacy rarely impressed.
Heavenly or blood variants? Game-changer. Hell to craft even one, but done right, they rivaled whole armies. Tireless. Flawless. Nigh-indestructible flesh—a martial artist's nightmare.
The passage opened to a vast arena, walled in but roomy. An ironclad corpse soldier sat before the frontal iron gate—the sole way through. Dispatch it to breach the door.
Flash!
It sensed intruders and cracked its eyes. Blood-red glare denied approach.
—Blood corpse soldier.
'Crazy fucker. Demonic ties or not, wasn't he righteous-leaning?'
—Righteous hypocrisy never changes.
'You used 'em too.'
Didn't make 'em.
His demon legion's backbone: blood corpse soldiers. Blood-forged abominations needing thousands of lives minimum. Immortal once forged—even flower realm masters struggled.
Higher the source's prowess, deadlier the result. Expert stock? Pure calamity.
Trick was the insane process. No success guarantees. Worst: mid-craft rampage, and it turns on you.
Prime specimen of the dreaded breed loomed ahead. Guarding Cheonmuja's prize, no less. Gave a rough read on the guy's living morals. Not the upright sort folklore claimed.
'Heavy vibe.'
Crazy bastard went wild, or so I heard.
Mujin probed its patrol zone. Preset to strike on boundary breach.
"One step from here, give or take. Spot on?"
"...How?"
Nareung's limit: one step back then. Hesitate, and no survival odds. Speed like that.
Textbook lore pegged corpse soldiers as tanks—slow movers. This one's pace barely let her escape. Unfenced turf? She'd be done.
"You lot wanna take a crack?"
"Us?"
"Curious 'bout the armor? Go for it. Otherwise, back off. Treasures reward the bold, most like."
Ah!
Nareung wouldn't dare, but rookies Cheolho and Yukchil itched to test. Jiangshi fights scared, sure—but that armor's worth begged a shot.
"Count me in!"
"Together."
Cheolho and Yukchil targeted its sluggish gait. Synced breaths quick. Mujin's easy handover amped the nerves.
Step, dash!
They spaced out, splitting its focus wide.
The blood-gleam beast advanced.
Huh?
Ominous pressure slammed down.
Ugh!
Yukchil felt a mountain's crush mid-stride. Foot pinned early. Then it clicked: its style mimicked Heavenly Demon Supremacy Step pressure.
Heuk!
As Yukchil yelped, Cheolho bull-rushed with Iron Blood Lion Fist's Unrivaled Point Strike.
Puuaang!
No impact feedback on the thrust.
Chill!
Gooseflesh rocketed from his toes. Face-to-face with it now. He'd flanked rear—now dead ahead.
Dodged point-blank?
Thump!
Crossed arms ate the counterfist, but Cheolho rocketed backward dead straight.
Paaang!
Pressure-free, Yukchil fired Exploding Muscle Palm. No shake-up—instead, backlash stung his palms.
Thud-thud-thud!
Crassh!
Fist-pummeled, they tumbled helpless. Zero exchanges. Zero blocks. Incapacitated.
Shwiiing!
Blood-flash charged them low. Fists qi-laden. A corpse soldier wielding fist qi.
Finishing blows incoming.
Kwaaaang!
Shoooo! Puwaaaang!
Earth-rending boom. Ripples quaked the arena. Straight-shot debris pulverized the far wall in a collapse.
Ugh!
Cheolho and Yukchil, hairsbreadth from doom, shuddered at its horror. Explained Nareung's pass.
Mujin—one-shot blasting it—barely seemed mortal. Fist wind parried the low-altitude fist-qi blitz.
Out-bruting brute force.
Made sense. Infuriatingly so.
Puaang!
Rock-buried, it rose spewing energy. Boulders flew weaponized every which way. Fragment force was no joke.
"What is that thing?"
"Gut says? That's Cheonmuja himself."
"Huh? Meaning?"
"Lifetime fist art ace, right? Fist qi mastery, heavy hitter. Flower realm minimum. Prime stock ain't common."
"Still—no reason to zombify himself."
"Ask him. Beats me."
Mujin's hunch rang true. Combat scaling tracked living skill. Qi-wielding near-invulnerable shell? Cheonmuja fit.
'Bastard knew and fed us to it.'
'Fuck you, master! Hellbound!'
All palm-play for Mujin. No-contest from jump. Armor lure got 'em.
Grrrowl!
Beast-roar from it. No pain felt humanly, but pride stung. Emotional flickers made it eerily lifelike.
Wooong!
Energy burst birthed a qi gale vortex. Lifetime might intact.
Typhoon aura choked dry swallows from Cheolho, Nareung, Yukchil. Mujin's call rang true now—that energy sealed it.
Living Cheonmuja: past-and-present seven legends tier. Slacking against his zombie shell—even Mujin might... Huh?