Chapter 289
Chapter 289
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 289
>Chapter Title: Huihui Cult (3)
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Il-mok, wearing a smile laced with killing intent, had already risen to his feet, the Soaring Heaven Sword gripped in his hand.
From a cross-legged seated position, the complex motion of drawing his sword and standing in one fluid motion was executed with perfect naturalness.
It was the first form of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword: always be ready to draw your blade, no matter the time or situation. The essence of the Soul-Stealing Ready Sword was already ingrained in Il-mok's body.
And then, a slashing sound echoed out, delayed by a single beat.
Shwick!
The necks of the dancers, who had been weaving a bizarre dance that disrupted the flow of qi, were severed, and the twisted qi currents began to stabilize.
Il-mok, who had shattered the formation in a single stroke, shouted.
“Cover your noses and mouths!”
The incense smoke that had begun wafting after the dancers started their performance was laced with poison.
To be precise, the smoke itself was not poison.
Rather, the moment it was inhaled, certain ingredients from the food transformed into poison.
That was why they hadn't noticed the poison when they first tasted the food.
Il-mok, born with such exceptional talent that even the Heavenly Demon had taken notice of him from the very first glance, had sensed the subtle distortions in the qi flow the instant the dancers began their dance.
Thus, he had heightened his senses and kept watch over the situation. The moment he inhaled the smoke, he quickly realized the poison was spreading through his body.
Conversely.
“Urk.”
Among those whose qi sense was not as developed as Il-mok's, some had inevitably been poisoned, even if only slightly.
“Expel the poison with your internal energy! Those with severe symptoms, immediately assume the qi circulation posture. Those who can move, protect your comrades!”
Il-mok issued rapid commands and, at the same time, wildly swung the Soaring Heaven Sword to generate a sword wind.
Whoosh~!!
The massive sword wind Il-mok created swept through the grand banquet hall, gathering the faintly spreading smoke and pushing it into one spot.
“You bastard!!”
Was it because the dancers' necks had been severed? Or because the trap had been exposed?
Bazah Raman, seated at the head table, bellowed, and the men present in the banquet hall rose as one, drawing their weapons.
Come to think of it, one of the dancers had been Bazah Raman's wife.
Perhaps seeing his wife's head cut off right before his eyes had driven him mad.
‘He shouldn't have sent his wife to do something like that in the first place.’
The man who had put his wife forward as both a seductress and a formation master seemed like a madman himself.
As the Huihui Cultists charged with weapons in hand.
A drop of black liquid dripped from the index finger of Il-mok's left hand, the one that had generated the sword wind.
He had hastily circulated his internal energy to gather the spreading poison in his body and expel it.
Crunch.
Jin Ha-yeon had also bitten her own right index finger with her white teeth. As the skin tore, black liquid flowed out and immediately froze solid.
But Joo Seo-yeon and Jeong-hyeon were a step slower in reacting; they remained cross-legged, hastily assuming the qi circulation posture.
The Black Tiger Unit members were in the same boat.
Only Black Tiger Unit Leader Gu Yang-hyeok, the deputy leader, and a few squad leaders with ample experience had assumed combat readiness. Nearly thirty members had crossed their legs and begun qi circulation.
They were in a situation where a mere dozen or so had to protect and fight for nearly thirty others.
Shwick!
But those collapsing dead were all clad in Huihui Cult garb.
It was only natural.
Those who had risen to their feet now were all experts skilled enough not to fall for such a trap.
Each time Gu Yang-hyeok swung his saber at tremendous speed, Huihui Cultists had their necks or limbs severed and screamed.
Shwick!
“Argh!!”
Whenever Jin Ha-yeon, with her icy gaze like frost, made a subtle movement, the area around her froze solid, and the cultists suffered frostbite such as they had never experienced in their lives.
However, the one cutting down the most foes was Il-mok.
The energy gathered on Il-mok's Soaring Heaven Sword burst outward in all directions, creating countless nets in the air.
Heavenly Net Sword.
True to its name, "Heaven's Vast Net Leaves None Untouched," no villain could escape before his Heavenly Net Sword.
While those three led the charge, butchering the Huihui Cultists, the remaining Black Tiger Unit members guarded their qi-circulating comrades and blocked the cultists' attacks.
In an instant, the vast majority of the cultists in the banquet hall were swept away.
Boom!!!
With a massive explosion, the grand doors of the banquet hall shattered, and dozens more Huihui Cultists poured in.
“Kill all those impudent heretics!!”
“Allah hu Akbar!!”
Along with the familiar shouts, Allah's magic wands spat fire.
“Crazy bastards.”
Setting off fireworks indoors. They didn't seem right in the head.
At that moment.
“I'll block them.”
Jin Ha-yeon, her palms brimming with cold energy, leaped to the rear and swatted away the incoming barrage of flames toward the qi-circulating group, extinguishing them.
While Jin Ha-yeon and several Black Tiger Unit members held the rear to protect their allies.
Shwick!
Gu Yang-hyeok and Il-mok cut down anyone blocking their path as they aimed for the family head at the high table.
At that moment.
The family head, who had remained at the high table with a few guards, pointed toward Jeong-hyeon and Joo Seo-yeon—still in qi circulation—and bellowed.
“Target those bitches! They're the leader's women!”
It was in an unintelligible language, but the finger pointed at the two made the meaning clear enough.
“They only pick the most despicable tactics.”
Il-mok spat a curse under his breath and swung the Soaring Heaven Sword. The curved sword swung by a guard shattered futilely.
And as Il-mok moved to follow up with a slash. Bazah Raman chanted an incantation in an unknown tongue. A bizarre qi flow appeared in the air, the banquet hall floor twisted into a swamp-like mire, and it seized Il-mok's feet.
Il-mok swiftly unleashed his lightness skill to escape the mire and, in midair, swung his sword to shoot sword qi.
Clang!
Crack.
Some had parts of their bodies severed by Il-mok's attack and screamed, while others barely blocked the sword qi.
Right after, Bazah Raman chanted another spell and thrust his mouth forward as if blowing breath. Flames spewed from his mouth.
It seemed the family head had some real skill in sorcery.
‘Was that earlier dance taught by this guy?’
That bizarre formation using the dance was either his handiwork or one of the Raman Family's hereditary techniques.
While Il-mok and Gu Yang-hyeok blocked or dodged Bazah Raman's sorcery and clashed with the guards.
A fierce battle raged in the rear.
A mere dozen protecting nearly thirty comrades.
The Huihui Cultists, perhaps having caught on thanks to their family head, constantly targeted the qi-circulating Black Tiger Unit members with sneak attacks whenever they found an opening.
Bang!
Worse, arrows and spells shot from afar forced Jin Ha-yeon and the Black Tiger Unit members guarding their comrades to gradually give ground.
Flash!
Among the qi-circulating group, those who expelled the poison first began rising one by one.
Among those who had cleared the poison relatively quickly was Jeong-hyeon.
In the chaotic battlefield filled with shouts erupting from all sides—where some were at risk not just of failing to expel the poison but falling into demonic deviation—Jeong-hyeon astonishingly regained her calm swiftly.
It was possible thanks to her experience performing as Jade Sword Young Master in Pyeongnyang County, attaining enlightenment before thousands of spectators.
“Allah hu Akbar!”
It was also because the shouts were somewhat familiar to her.
Having swiftly expelled the poison qi, Jeong-hyeon unhesitatingly nocked an arrow.
She knew exactly what she needed to do first.
Twang!
The moment she released the bowstring, a clear whoosh rang out.
Her arrow slipped through the gap between allies and enemies, piercing the brow of a sorcerer chanting from the rear.
Just like that day during her time at the Demonic Path Academy, when she had been ambushed by Allah's zealots.
With Jeong-hyeon's interceptions preventing the sorcerers from freely casting spells, the Black Tiger Unit's formation stabilized.
Moreover, as more Black Tiger Unit members expelled their poison and rose, the tide quickly turned.
“Kill them!”
“Leave not a single vile Huihui Cultist alive!”
The enraged zealots of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult butchered Allah's zealots.
Shwick!
Il-mok and Gu Yang-hyeok, having already cut down all the guards, arrived right before Bazah Raman.
“Sp-spare me, and I'll give you all my wives. And the gold and treasures too….”
“What's he saying?”
Il-mok clicked his tongue lightly at Bazah Raman, who cried out in the unintelligible Huihui Cult language, and swung the Soaring Heaven Sword.
Shwick!
* * *
After dealing with Bazah Raman, Il-mok broke through alongside the Black Tiger Unit members who were regaining their senses one by one.
Shwick!
“Arrrgh!”
Amid explosions, screams, slashing sounds, and cries to the divine erupting from all sides.
Boom!!
Il-mok finally smashed through the massive mansion's walls, escaping the Raman Family estate.
“Tch.”
Il-mok clicked his tongue lightly at the sight before him.
As expected of the family ruling this city, soldiers were already swarming toward the mansion.
But it wasn't the soldiers' momentum that made him click his tongue.
“Trade with the Western Regions is off the table now.”
It was merely faint regret over the mission's failure.
Shing.
As Il-mok raised the Soaring Heaven Sword to sweep away the soldiers blocking his path and unleash the Heavenly Net Sword.
“Make way!!!”
A shout rang out from beyond the soldiers, and they parted to the sides.
An old man strode forward through the soldiers and began jabbering in an unintelligible language.
Il-mok, sword pointed forward, called to the rear.
“Ohallak!”
Moments later, Ohallak—unharmed thanks to the Demonic Cultists' protection—stepped forward, his face pale as a sheet.
Whether from the sight of Huihui Cultists strewn dead everywhere or the countless soldiers surrounding the mansion, it was hard to say.
“Translate.”
At Il-mok's command, Ohallak spoke to the old man, who replied.
“I am Muhammad, head of the Majid Family. How about sheathing your sword first and having a talk?”
As Ohallak translated the old man's words, Il-mok swept his gaze over the encircling soldiers, then pointed the Soaring Heaven Sword at the mansion behind him.
“Talk? We just killed the head of the Raman Family, who ruled this Samarkand. Think we can talk?”
Ohallak translated Il-mok's words, and oddly, the old man shook his head.
“You're mistaken. Samarkand is governed by a council. The Raman Family simply had the most councilors. And thanks to you, now our Majid Family will have the most.”
“Ho.”
Il-mok, grasping the flow of events, wore an intrigued expression.
“Thus, as Samarkand's representative, I ask: why did you assault the Raman Family?”
“You've got the order wrong. They attacked us first, so we counterattacked.”
At that moment, someone who had been watching the exchange through the interpreter suddenly interjected.
“What do you think you're doing!! Even if you have bad blood with our Raman Family, how can you side with heretics!”
Il-mok glanced at the outburst in the unintelligible tongue, and Ohallak quick-wittedly translated.
“Raman Family. Majid Family. Huihui Cult. Bad to side with heretics.”
Then, Muhammad Majid, who had been speaking with Il-mok, shouted back.
“Do you truly not know that Bazah Raman's greed nearly cost our Samarkand the chance to reclaim its former glory!!”
It was a thunderous roar unfitting his age, different from when conversing with Il-mok.
“They are guests from the eastern lands! Treating guests with utmost hospitality is the tradition of our Huihui Cult, yet Bazah Raman attacked them!”
Before long, Muhammad Majid was locking eyes with every surrounding soldier, preaching to them all as if imparting a lesson, ignoring the dissenting man.
“And if they continue to visit this place, then just as two hundred years ago, countless guests would flock to Samarkand once more, making the entire city wealthy! But Bazah Raman attacked them solely to stuff his own belly and seize their treasures!!”
Ohallak translated Muhammad Majid's words with fitting tact. Though somewhat clumsy, Il-mok grasped the meaning and grinned.
The rational conversation partner he had so desperately sought had come to him.