Chapter 152
Chapter 152
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 152
Chapter Title: Thousand Li Plateau (3)
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In the midst of the brutal battlefield, where screams echoed chaotically, blood sprayed everywhere, and flesh tore apart in the blink of an eye—where life and death flipped in an instant—one man alone was acting bizarrely.
"Tut tut, are you planning to kill your own allies too? What's the point of spewing poison so recklessly?"
"Even if you're giving it your all in battle, don't you know that hacking away at chickens with a butcher's knife for cattle will dull the blade when you actually need to slaughter the cow?"
"Too slow. That's why you're letting needless attacks land."
Dang Cheonhwa trailed doggedly behind So Surin, nagging her nonstop.
He ranked among the top five in the Divine Demon Division, excluding Sima Geon and Cheol Woo, but in Dang Cheonhwa's eyes, everything fell short.
Thanks to Ten Thousand Poison Valley's atrocities, an immense amount of poison had built up throughout her body. In the process of detoxifying it, So Surin had successfully absorbed not only the accumulated poison but also the energy she'd gained from Black Wolf's blood. The problem was that she wasn't wielding that power properly.
While restoring So Surin's body, Dang Cheonhwa had slyly taught her the Tang Clan's poison arts as she circulated Ten Thousand Poison Valley's poison technique. And whenever he found a spare moment afterward, he'd passed on a few martial arts that made use of poison techniques.
Teaching Tang Clan martial arts to an outsider was strictly forbidden by Tang Clan law, but the venomous eccentric Dang Cheonhwa was no man to be bound by such rules.
Moreover, the techniques he'd taught So Surin were ones he'd newly devised during his time lingering on Hainan Island. Their roots were undeniably Tang Clan, but they weren't purely Tang Clan arts.
"Please, just shut your mouth already!"
So Surin snapped irritably.
Her divided attention caused the attack to miss its mark.
A palm strike aimed at her chest merely grazed her arm. But So Surin didn't press the assault—instead, she whirled toward another foe.
The reason became clear soon enough.
The man, relieved that the palm had only brushed his arm and bracing for the follow-up, suddenly saw his pupils quake.
Wearing an expression of utter incomprehension, he clutched his arm and tore open his sleeve.
The skin where the palm had grazed was already pitch-black, the discoloration spreading rapidly.
His face began to contort in agony and terror.
As his face blackened, blood gushed from all seven orifices. He staggered, then collapsed limply.
It had all happened in just three or four breaths after taking So Surin's palm strike to the arm.
Dozens had met their end in the same fashion.
Even more had perished simply from proximity—exposed to the poison leaking uncontrollably from her. And every time, Dang Cheonhwa's bellows rang out without fail.
"Elder, how long are you going to play around like this? Things are about to get ugly."
She shouted as enemies wielding thunderbolts surged toward them in droves.
The Wind Demon Division was a world apart from the Ghost Path Squad's disciples. They were Heavenly Demon Cult elites—individually formidable and masters of linked formations. She might hold out somehow, but Manchu and Gwayu stood no chance. Of course, the still-rampaging Black Wolf made for a reliable ally, but even he had his limits.
"Good grief, such incessant chatter."
He answered with obvious annoyance, but Dang Cheonhwa knew he could no longer hold back.
"Impressive momentum."
The Wind Demon Division pressing in from both flanks looked qualitatively different from the Ghost Path Squad—urgent enough to make Noe Jeon cry out.
Dang Cheonhwa took a long pipe from his mouth, drew in a deep lungful of smoke, and exhaled a puff toward the enemies charging fearlessly. Then he spoke to So Surin.
"Let's wrap up the field training here. Now cut loose without holding back. You lot—fall back. Don't even think about coming anywhere near."
Dang Cheonhwa waved for Noe Jeon, Manchu, Gwayu, and the others to retreat far away. But with enemies bearing down on their position as well, they hesitated, unsure what to do.
"Tut tut, what fools."
Clicking his tongue, Dang Cheonhwa sprang into motion. He lightly stepped on Manchu's shoulder and vaulted into the air.
Long pipe in his left hand, robe—which he'd doffed in an instant—in his right.
Cold light gleamed in Dang Cheonhwa's eyes as he gazed upon the Wind Demon Division.
"Ta-hat!"
A low kiai escaped the slowly descending Dang Cheonhwa's lips. At the same moment, the robe in his hand whipped into a rapid spin. In a flash, countless hidden needles burst from it, streaking toward the foes like rays of light.
"Whoa!"
An exclamation burst unbidden from Noe Jeon's slack-jawed mouth.
Watching the needles pour down like a monsoon brought to mind the meteor shower that had once filled the Black Dragon Valley night sky.
"D-Dodge! Dodge it!"
Suk Jihwang shrieked like a banshee.
They wanted to evade, but there was no escaping it.
Innumerable needles blanketed their surroundings completely.
"Kaaack!"
"Guh!"
"Argh!"
Screams exploded from every direction.
The needles Dang Cheonhwa had unleashed were tiny—not lethal on their own. They could deliver fatal wounds if they struck vital acupoints, but elsewhere they inflicted only pain, no threat to life.
But when those needles carried poison, the equation changed.
And they did.
Those struck began staggering before they could even take three breaths. Then, clutching their chests, they toppled over one after another.
The toll exceeded thirty.
"My god!"
Suk Jihwang stared at Dang Cheonhwa in horror, having lost more than two-thirds of his men in a single strike.
Dang Cheonhwa, as if his business were concluded, calmly placed his pipe back in his mouth.
Noe Jeon, Manchu, and Gwayu slunk slyly behind him, but Suk Jihwang and his remaining men dared not approach.
"Die!"
With a frenzied cry, a single beam shot from Seo Ye's hand toward Sima Geon's throat.
As per Sword Demon Dragon's orders, he'd split his forces to support the Ghost Path Squad from both sides before rushing here with his seven finest subordinates from the Wind Demon Division to aid Sword Demon Dragon. Joo Seunggeon clenched his fist tight.
Sword Demon Dragon, Son Gajong, and Yang Gyecho were attacking with everything they had. And this was the unexpected ambush from Protector Seo Ye—the man they'd thought dead after collapsing from that grievous chest wound moments ago. Even Sima Geon wouldn't react in time, he figured.
Moreover, among the three Protectors aiding Sword Demon Dragon, the youngest—Seo Ye—wielded a swift sword fast and sharp enough to rank among the Heavenly Demon Cult's top three.
A triumphant smile curled Joo Seunggeon's lips as he moved to follow up.
He didn't expect Seo Ye's strike to kill Sima Geon. That would be ideal, but with a monster of that caliber, he had to assume the worst. Still, it would deal some damage at least.
Joo Seunggeon envisioned what came next.
The sight of Sima Geon—wounded by Seo Ye's swift sword—having his throat slit.
The image of severing the Ma Do Best Sword's lifeline and avenging his brother sent thrills down his spine, even in imagination.
Meanwhile, confirming the sword blazing toward him like a comet, Sima Geon's brow twitched.
Seo Ye's attack had caught even him off guard.
No one survived a pierced heart—at least, he'd never heard of it. It had happened only because he was unaware of Seo Ye's abnormally positioned heart.
No time for thought—his body moved on instinct.
The Heavenly Demon Sword parried Sword Demon Dragon's assault while his left hand extended toward Son Gajong and Yang Gyecho, unleashing Dragon Scale Wall—one of Heaven Breaking Nine Wall Fist's premier defensive techniques. Then, in that do-or-die instant, he twisted his body aside.
Seo Ye's blade grazed Sima Geon's nape.
Spotting the miss, Seo Ye gnashed his teeth and tried to alter the sword's path—but Sima Geon wouldn't allow it.
The hand that had formed Dragon Scale Wall snatched the sword mid-motion.
Clang!
The sword snapped with a piercing metallic ring.
Sima Geon hurled the broken blade back at Seo Ye.
"Danger!"
Sword Demon Dragon's warning came too late—Seo Ye couldn't react.
His heart was intact, but the wound itself was mortal. Having wrung out his last reserves for that strike, he couldn't move with his former agility.
The blade left Sima Geon's hand and buried itself deep in Seo Ye's forehead.
Seo Ye perished without so much as a gasp.
'Damn it all!'
Seo Ye's pathetic end and the utterly unforeseen turn of events twisted Joo Seunggeon's face in anguish. Yet he couldn't halt his assault.
Azure light surged from Joo Seunggeon's sword as it arced toward Sima Geon.
A comparable energy poured from the blades of his subordinates.
The Heavenly Demon Sword—which had shoved Sword Demon Dragon aside—now swung toward Joo Seunggeon and his men.
Thunderbolt Blood Sword: Light Flash.
Beneath a cloudless sky blazing with brilliant sunlight, thunder crashed down.
That was how Joo Seunggeon and his men perceived it.
A thunder god descending upon them.
They despaired before the absolute swiftness no mortal strength could oppose.
Their minds blanked in an instant.
Watching the eight heads soar into the air, Sword Demon Dragon bit his lip until blood welled.
Son Gajong and Yang Gyecho, heaving ragged breaths, wore the same grim expressions.
Son Gajong and Yang Gyecho roared and charged.
Their combined assault was futilely rebuffed by the Heavenly Demon Sword.
"Ngh!"
"Guh!"
Short groans erupted in unison.
As if by prior agreement, both staggered back five paces.
As Sima Geon swung the Heavenly Demon Sword toward them, Sword Demon Dragon—teeth clenched—unleashed his final blow.
The last stance of Lonely Soul Twelve Flows: World Chaos Divide.
Sword energy erupted from his blade, splitting into twelve beams of light that sealed every possible evasion route and bore down on Sima Geon.
In sync, Yang Gyecho unleashed his signature technique.
Son Gajong followed with his mightiest art: Yellow Dragon Ascends Heaven.
Five golden dragons materialized from Son Gajong's hand, shimmering brilliantly. Twisting skyward, they wheeled about and roared toward Sima Geon.
Sima Geon exhaled softly and swung the Heavenly Demon Sword.
Energy from the Three Venerables One Heart Skill welled from his dantian, raced through his arms, and poured into the Heavenly Demon Sword—then erupted into the world.
The sword energy from the Heavenly Demon Sword clashed headlong with the trio's onslaught.
Boom boom boom ka-boom!
The twelve beams from Sword Demon Dragon's sword vanished without a trace.
The yellow dragons lunging for head, arms, and legs were pulverized effortlessly.
Everything within a dozen zhang began to lay utterly devastated.
Seo Ye's corpse and the haphazardly strewn bodies of Joo Seunggeon and his men were shredded to bits.
Swoosh!
The Heavenly Demon Sword cleaved through the shockwave's aftermath, streaking toward Son Gajong's heart.
There was no time to dodge—nor any way to. No, he couldn't dodge. There was nothing left behind him. He had to fell Sima Geon somehow.
Resolution hardened in Son Gajong as he charged straight at Sima Geon instead.
Splat!
The instant the Heavenly Demon Sword pierced his heart, his body ballooned grotesquely—then detonated.
Witnessing Son Gajong's self-immolation in a bid for mutual destruction, Yang Gyecho didn't waver.
His internal energy long depleted, he immediately summoned his innate true qi.
He knew reckless use of innate true qi risked death—or severe aftereffects even if he survived—but he didn't care. Above all, he couldn't squander the chance his comrade had bought with his life.
The moment he launched himself at Sima Geon, a gruesome tearing sound and excruciating pain ripped through his back.
Yang Gyecho stumbled, head drooping.
There gleamed the Heavenly Demon Sword, having burst out from his pierced dantian.
'When the hell...'
As he raised his head, Sima Geon's impassive gaze met his.
Despite Son Gajong's suicide blast, Sima Geon appeared unscathed save for tattered clothes.
"You monstrous bastard."
Son Gajong murmured weakly, watching Sima Geon's hand approach before slowly closing his eyes.
Having snuffed out Son Gajong's life, Sima Geon turned to tie up loose ends.
A short distance away, Sword Demon Dragon—who had shouldered the brunt of that last clash—labored for breath.
Sword Demon Dragon glanced at his right shoulder.
Dark crimson blood gushed from the jagged tear, as if mauled by a beast. Blood streamed from his side below the shoulder and from his thigh as well.
With no sensation there, his left side was likely in similar straits.
"I knew your skill... well enough... but I truly never dreamed... it'd be this much."
Sword Demon Dragon gave a hollow laugh at the Sima Geon standing before him. Forcing up his drooping eyelids with effort, he continued.
"You... win..."
Seeing Sword Demon Dragon's head loll limply, Sima Geon turned away without a backward glance.