Chapter 30
Episode 30
Master and Disciple (2)
'I have to kill him in one strike.'
Se-woon focused with every fiber of his being.
There would only be one chance.
At his current level, using the Formless Dagger to pierce the protective aura of someone at the Flower Realm or above was something he could only manage once a day.
'The growth of the Golden Arm Technique is incomparably faster than before, but my mastery of Reverse Heaven Energy is still lacking.'
However, the slow progress of Reverse Heaven Energy wasn't due to any lack of effort on Se-woon's part.
If he hadn't trained hard enough, he wouldn't have broken through the first threshold and reached the second stage in such a short time.
'Unlike the second stage, which I achieved through enlightenment, reaching the third requires an enormous amount of external demonic energy.'
The Blood Demon had slaughtered countless enemies, absorbing their power to break through the third threshold.
In his past life, Se-woon had relied on demonic pills, monster cores, and rare herbs provided by the Blood Cult—all under the pretext of needing materials for forging divine artifacts—to achieve the same.
But if he tried to obtain such sinister items within the orthodox martial world now, he'd be branded a heretic and executed on the spot.
In any case, despite the tension of needing to kill his opponent in a single decisive strike—
Se-woon didn't tremble in the slightest.
'In the martial world, you never meet your enemy under perfectly prepared circumstances.'
Which meant Poison Demon Yayul Seung wasn't in peak condition either.
In a single exchange, he would aim for the parts of his opponent's body that could take their life.
The head—or the heart.
One of the two would have to be hit.
"GAAAH!"
Even now, Yayul Seung was screaming.
Like a man suffering from demonic qi deviation, his entire body convulsed violently as he writhed in agony.
Se-woon hovered in the air like a hawk circling its prey, watching for an opening.
'Now—!'
He clenched his fist tightly.
Fwip!
Not a single sound of tearing air followed.
But in Se-woon's vision, a single, miraculous streak of light sliced horizontally through the void.
The soundless flying dagger pierced through the air in perfect silence, just as its name suggested.
A straight vertical wound—like the character 丨—formed clearly on Dokma's forehead.
Even as the Formless Dagger came within a hair's breadth of his brow—
"Guhh!"
Dokma continued to writhe in pain.
So Se-woon was certain—he had killed his enemy.
But then—
"...!?"
Whoosh!
Suddenly, Dokma's head and limbs twisted in an unnatural, grotesque manner.
Fwip!
Se-woon's Formless Dagger stabbed through nothing but empty air.
He immediately realized something had gone wrong.
'Dokma sensed the Formless Dagger!'
Before the attack, Dokma had been completely unaware of the dagger's existence—just like Sword Emperor Yoo Jin-hak.
Yet, at the brink of death, he had suddenly detected it.
Whether it was due to the killing intent imbued in the strike or Dokma's own heightened senses, Se-woon didn't know.
What mattered was that, in the worst possible moment, Dokma had found a way to counter it.
Crunch!
Then, with a sickening crack of bone, Dokma's neck twisted in a direction no living being's should.
"There you are."
"—!"
Dokma's eyes locked directly onto Se-woon's as he spoke.
Fwip!
In an instant, Dokma kicked off the ground and lunged at Se-woon with terrifying speed.
His movements were savage, like a starving beast pouncing on prey.
Swish!
In just a few steps, Dokma closed the distance and slashed at Se-woon with his right hand, claws gleaming like blackened blades.
Clang!
Se-woon had already drawn his daggers into both hands.
But he didn't meet Dokma's attack head-on.
'I have to dodge!'
Because he knew the claws weren't the real threat—
Fwip!
Pivoting on his right foot, Se-woon spun his body aside, narrowly avoiding Dokma's strike.
The poisoned claws sliced through empty air.
But that wasn't the end.
Hiss!
A pungent, acrid stench filled the air as something burned.
Where Se-woon had stood moments ago, a swirling mist of crimson poison now lingered.
Drip.
Everything the mist touched dissolved without a trace.
Se-woon's prediction had been correct.
Had he been even a fraction slower, his body would have melted away completely.
This was the secret technique of the Five Poison Sect—Poison Demon Yayul Seung's martial lineage.
Blood Mist—a lethal fusion of internal poison and qi.
"You smell of the Tang bloodline."
"Keeheehee. Has Tang Yi-tae's grandson come to rescue his sacrifices?"
Two voices—each with a completely different pitch—echoed from Dokma's throat.
He grinned at Se-woon, his smile chilling.
Though suddenly thrust into mortal danger, Se-woon calmly adjusted his stance.
"Don't you dare defile my grandfather's name with that rotten mouth of yours."
"...Keeheehee, typical Tang arrogance. That mouth of yours is as sharp as ever."
Dokma faltered slightly upon hearing Se-woon's voice.
It was far younger than he had expected.
'Judging by his voice, he hasn't even reached adulthood yet.'
'Did a brat like that really evade my killing strike?'
Though he pretended to be composed, Dokma's body was currently ravaged by the poison of Angsinru.
If his concentration wavered even slightly, he risked melting into a puddle of blood.
The problem was that his opponent—despite appearing young—was far too dangerous to underestimate after that first move.
'I almost died just now.'
No qi fluctuations.
Not even the faintest sound of air being sliced.
If Angsinru's poison hadn't suddenly gone berserk—as if unwilling to let its host die—he would have been killed instantly.
'But...'
In the end, what mattered was that he had survived.
'If I infuse Angsinru's poison into those daggers—!'
He could accelerate the annihilation of both orthodox and unorthodox martial artists.
Perhaps even—
The Blood Demon himself!
"Guhh—!"
As he channeled his qi, Angsinru's poison surged, sending waves of agony through his body.
But he didn't stop.
Whoosh!
Thick Blood Mist billowed from both his hands once more.
"Keeheehee. With that pathetic level of qi, it can't be sword control."
"Judging by the daggers, it must be a divine artifact's ability."
"..."
"Keeheehee. Flying daggers with levitation powers. I like them."
"Hand them over. If you do, I'll leave your corpse intact in the Tang family courtyard."
A glint flashed in Se-woon's eyes as he listened.
'As I thought—he still can't see the Formless Dagger.'
Being blind, Dokma hadn't realized the dagger was invisible.
He had mistaken it for a floating dagger with levitation powers.
Whoosh.
At that moment, the spent Formless Dagger returned to Se-woon's hand.
He could no longer use it.
Now, he would have to face Dokma head-on with his own martial skills.
'No—this is better.'
Dismissing the disadvantage, Se-woon reignited his fighting spirit.
Upon reflection, killing Dokma with the Formless Dagger would have been too merciful.
Whoosh!
Se-woon unleashed the Golden Arm Technique at full power.
Primordial qi blazed fiercely through his meridians.
"Keeheehee, do you think using primordial qi will let you defeat me?"
"Cut the act. It's disgusting."
"...What?"
"Just a moment ago, you were rolling around on the ground like a dying worm."
"—!"
"And let me tell you one more thing."
Se-woon smirked sharply.
"Angsinru—that's not how you use it, you idiot."
"!!!"
"Then again, you only learned poison arts by peeking over my grandfather's shoulder. Did you really think you'd know better?"
"..."
Dokma's expression twisted violently at Se-woon's sudden verbal assault.
His teeth ground audibly.
Because Se-woon wasn't wrong.
Much of Dokma's poison arts had been developed while fighting against the Poison King Tang Yi-tae.
In truth, many of his techniques could be traced back to the Sichuan Tang Clan.
This was a deep-seated trauma for Poison Demon Yayul Seung—who had never managed to defeat Tang Yi-tae in his lifetime.
The question was—how did this Tang brat in front of him know his weaknesses?
'I've always hated the Sichuan Tang Clan.'
Right. What did it matter how this brat knew?
He'd just tear him apart—no, melt him into a puddle of blood!
A murderous aura surged so intensely it prickled the skin.
Just as Dokma lunged to snap Se-woon's neck—
BOOM!
"—!"
Se-woon unleashed Reverse Heaven Energy at full power—the second stage.
With no bystanders to hide his demonic arts from, he held nothing back.
Dokma's eyes widened as a vile demonic energy erupted from Se-woon's entire body.
A martial artist from the Sichuan Tang Clan—using demonic arts?
That alone was shocking enough, but what truly stunned him was something else.
Look at that demonic energy.
Simultaneously terrifying and beautiful.
Yes—it reminded him of Angsinru, which he had absorbed.
In his entire life, he had only seen such pure demonic energy once before.
'The Blood Demon!'
For a brief moment, the image of the supreme ruler seated upon the Blood Cult's throne flashed through Dokma's mind.
The fury in Yayul Seung's eyes faded, replaced by his signature mad curiosity.
"Keeheehee, you're interesting. Truly interesting!"
"I've decided! I won't kill you!"
A clear, covetous light burned in Dokma's eyes.
"Hand over those daggers, and I'll make you my disciple."
It was pure greed.
He wanted to lock Se-woon in a blood prison, dissect him limb by limb, and uncover the source of his power.
Most martial artists would have cowered under that insane gaze.
But—
Whoosh!
Se-woon gripped his daggers tightly and smirked.
"Sorry. I have no interest in serving under a cripple who can't even control his own poison."
"Keeheehee. My disciple needs to be disciplined before his initiation—!"
Fwip!
Dokma shot forward like a meteor, his afterimage blurring behind him.
This was Shifting Form Changing Position—a movement technique so fast it left visual echoes.
After killing the Divine Thief and absorbing his techniques, Dokma's movement arts had reached a level where even Flower Realm experts struggled to track him.
'I see him.'
Yet, despite Dokma's blindness, Se-woon's frantic movements were crystal clear in his mind.
His heightened senses painted a vivid picture—
The scent he had memorized.
The sound of every movement.
The shift of air against his skin.
All combined into perfect awareness.
He could practically see the brat panicking, helpless before his speed.
Dokma's lips curled into a vicious grin.
Tang Clan martial artists who used hidden weapons instead of poison had always been his natural counters.
Whoosh!
The Blood Mist swirling around Dokma condensed into his right hand.
A terrifying poison storm raged within.
'Once I melt those daggers, let's see what you can do!'
Destroying an opponent's weapons was a surefire way to break their spirit.
After disarming him completely, he'd toy with him properly.
In an instant, Dokma reached Se-woon and lashed out like lightning.
Swish!
With a sound of tearing air, Se-woon's daggers fell into Dokma's grasp—without even a hint of resistance.
No—it was more accurate to say Se-woon hadn't resisted at all.
"Got you."
"...?"
Dokma froze.
Because Se-woon had released both daggers without hesitation.
Drip.
The daggers melted instantly in the Blood Mist.
'What—?!'
But despite the daggers dissolving, countless other sensations prickled at his right hand.
Like a net, innumerable threads coiled around his arm.
Only then did Dokma realize—
His opponent had anticipated the weapon's destruction and laid a trap.
Whirr!
"—!"
The spiderweb ensnaring its prey began to spin violently.
In his past life, after obtaining the Heavenly Silk, Se-woon had reforged the Divine Maiden Sect's defensive Seamless Divine Garment into his own creation.
A technique meant solely for killing—for severing and dismembering enemies.
Seamless Divine Garment (Modified)
First Move
Spider Severing Chains
Slice!
A chilling sound of cleaving flesh echoed through the cave.