Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Living Immortal Medical House (2)
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As the main gate drew nearer, all sorts of clamor unique to a battlefield where lives hung in the balance began to assault his ears.
“Huu.”
Thunderbolt halted his steps and let out a deep breath.
Many had stepped forward to aid the Living Immortal Medical House, but Thunderbolt knew all too well that the moment he passed through that gate, his life would be forfeit.
He had hesitated for a moment.
He had a mission entrusted to him, and if he slipped away now, wouldn't the pressure on the Living Immortal Medical House naturally ease?
“As if.”
Thunderbolt shook his head with a scoff.
They had shown an unusually low posture up until now, but if he vanished like this, the Living Immortal Medical House would bear the full brunt of the Heavenly Demon Cult's wrath. Considering the Divine Demon Division's creed of repaying favors tenfold and grudges a hundredfold, turning a blind eye was impossible.
'How long can I hold out?'
His body had barely recovered, far from normal. Even light movements brought cold sweat beading on his skin. He'd have to stake his life just to swing his sword a few times.
Thunderbolt closed his eyes tightly and began circulating his energy.
The power started from his dantian and spread through his body.
It was feeble compared to his peak condition—precarious at best.
When he finally opened his eyes, a sharp glint burst forth, and his figure shot forward like a streak of light.
In just a few strides, he passed through the gate. There, he spotted a man kneeling on one knee, sword thrust upward. Before him stood a one-eyed foe unleashing a triumphant roar, delivering the killing blow.
“Die!”
The one-eyed man—Third Captain of the Loyal Demon Division, Wi Hyeong—slashed down to end the annoyingly persistent youth.
At that instant, instincts honed across countless battlefields screamed a frantic warning.
Killing intent closed in.
No time to think. He twisted his body.
Too late. A searing pain flared in his side. The agony alone told him it was no shallow wound.
“Hey, Cyclops. Long time no see.”
The voice from behind twisted Wi Hyeong's already crumpled face even further.
Wi Hyeong slowly turned, lips curling in a sneer.
“You survived somehow, huh, Thunderbolt.”
“Got lucky. Nearly croaked to that idiot Yang So.”
Wi Hyeong, closer to Yang So than anyone, flashed a fierce light in his eyes.
“Right. You owe for my friend Yang So too.”
“Owe? Bullshit. You lot couldn't even look me in the eye before.”
Thunderbolt chuckled derisively, tilting his sword diagonally.
He aimed for nonchalance, casual poise, but couldn't hide the tremor at his sword tip. Wi Hyeong's lips twitched at the tell.
“Even I ain't lame enough to miss a gutless whelp.”
With those words, Wi Hyeong's sword lashed out swiftly.
A spike of pain from his side, ignored.
Thunderbolt stood pale, on the verge of collapse, but fretting over wounds meant he'd never catch this prey. Full power only.
Wi Hyeong's blade struck fiercely. Strangely, Thunderbolt didn't move—just watched with sunken, piercing eyes.
'One chance.'
Wi Hyeong ranked among the Loyal Demon Division's elites. Uninjured, no issue—but now?
'Give flesh to take bone.'
Only one or two full strikes in him. No stamina for a drawn-out fight.
As Thunderbolt twisted to evade, a flinch—Wi Hyeong smirked triumphantly. In a split-second life-or-death, that hesitation was fatal. Thunderbolt was off.
Wi Hyeong's sword shifted with him.
Redirecting a full-power swing so sharply proved his skill.
'Got you!'
Wi Hyeong nearly cheered at the familiar bite through his blade.
The Divine Demon Division's fame was an iron fortress. Felling a top expert like Thunderbolt shattered what seemed an insurmountable wall.
Ecstasy was fleeting.
As he savored the deep cut into Thunderbolt's flesh, a ray of light shot toward him.
By the time Wi Hyeong noticed and reacted, it had grazed his throat. Speed defying evasion, even forewarned.
Recalling Thunderbolt's unmatched swift-sword in the Divine Demon Division, Wi Hyeong realized he'd fallen for the feint, tricked by appearances.
'Fool...'
Regret always comes too late.
A thin line appeared on Wi Hyeong's neck, beads of blood welling along it. Then head and body parted, collapsing limply.
“Idiots. Call him friend, act the same.”
Thunderbolt sneered, staggering before steadying himself.
“Nearly bit it.”
He grimaced at the sword embedded near his heart, slightly off-center. A finger's shift, and he'd have failed to kill Wi Hyeong—lost his life without a proper swing.
Leaving the blade in his chest, Thunderbolt stepped forward, eyes wide, hoisting Wi Hyeong's lifeless head high.
“I am Thunderbolt of the Divine Demon Division!”
The shout, wrung from scant energy, pierced the battlefield. Clashes everywhere halted as if by magic.
“He's come out on his own—stand down, all of you.”
The black-robed elder withdrew his sword from his duel with Namgung Kyung.
Namgung Kyung retreated a few steps, steadying his ragged breath, face etched with dismay.
They'd drawn swords against the Heavenly Demon Cult to protect the beleaguered Living Immortal Medical House. Thunderbolt's emergence erased that justification.
The Living Immortal Medical House felt it too. Unable to retreat blindly, they stood awkwardly.
“Why throw yourself into this?”
Breathing Guard Hall Leader Hwang Jin rushed to Thunderbolt, demanding answers.
His state was wretched—repelling the Loyal Demon Leader's assault. Clothes torn to rags, caked in dirt, fresh blood seeping through countless gashes.
“Saving my life is payment enough. No more harm to the Living Immortal Medical House.”
“But...”
“This is our cult's affair.”
Worried they'd stubbornly intervene, Thunderbolt drew a firm line: Heavenly Demon Cult business.
“Not as dumb as you look.”
Ma Gong Ho stepped forward, sneer full across his face. His body, soaked in more blood than anyone's, gleamed crimson.
He glanced back; the black-robed elder, still facing Namgung Kyung, nodded faintly.
Confirmed in full command, Ma Gong Ho bellowed with surging confidence.
“He's crawled out himself—proving the Living Immortal Medical House's lies about his imminent death. We'll overlook it. But as he says, this is our cult's matter. All withdraw. If not...”
Ma Gong Ho paused, slowly glaring at the household and heroes. His killing intent and overwhelming assurance cowed them.
Small wonder. Early wins bred arrogance, but the Heavenly Demon Cult's true might in full battle chilled them. Most fell without resistance, save a few.
Experts like Namgung Kyung, the Eccentric Wanderers, and the Breathing Guard Hall—Living Immortal Medical House's finest—fought desperately to hold. Yet after barely an hour, the field despaired.
Gazes turned to the household, especially Hwang Jin, who'd led the charge.
Aware of the stares, Hwang Jin's face hardened in silence. Thunderbolt provided retreat's excuse; even the cult acknowledged it. Still, pride held him. Baseless confidence they'd repelled the Heavenly Demon Cult.
[Will you let them all die for your pride, the house's face?]
Guest of the Living Immortal Medical House and friend to Pill Sovereign Hall Leader Hwang Seung, Dong Mo chided via transmission.
Hwang Jin turned with a low groan. Dong Mo entered view—one arm gone, bloodied, yet unbowed, dignified. Urging retreat, unbroken in resolve.
Confirming the rebuke stemmed not from fear or self-preservation but care for others, Hwang Jin bit his lip.
“All withdraw.”
Sighs of relief escaped those fearing his misstep.
At Hwang Jin's order, Breathing Guard Hall fell back in unison. The hesitant heroes slunk away too.
Ma Gong Ho watched their full retreat with smug arrogance, then approached Thunderbolt, mocking smile wide.
Drained from that single bout with Wi Hyeong, Thunderbolt could barely stand, let alone wield a weapon.
“Slippery rat—finally cornered.”
“Shut up. Just kill me.”
“Naturally. Even if you beg otherwise. But first, return what's owed.”
Thunderbolt recalled the bracelet in his bosom.
A plain iron ring, finger-thick, a handspan long. Yet the Heavenly Demon ancestor's relic—value beyond measure.
“Fuck if I know. Quit yapping and kill me.”
Inevitably taken, but no intent to hand it over nicely.
Ma Gong Ho didn't rage at the defiance. Instead, a deep, oily smile spread.
“Never liked you anyway. Strutting on that pitiful skill.”
He leaned toward Thunderbolt.
“Think you escaped 'cause you're good? Hardly. Could've nabbed you sooner. Just late orders to scout the martial world via chase. Oh, and nice try saving this dump—futile. It'll vanish today.”
“What bullshit...”
Ma Gong Ho ignored him. He straightened abruptly, voice furious.
“Woke up gone? You expect me to buy that?”
His shout rang for all, but his eyes laughed distinctly.
[With your head and the Living Immortal Medical House's blood, our cult's great undertaking begins.]
Thunderbolt's eyes sparked fury at the transmission. All efforts with Divine Demon comrades to fulfill duty—mocked, negated.
“Die!”
Whence the surge? On death's door, Thunderbolt's sword flashed like lightning. But it halted abruptly.
Thunderbolt gaped as Ma Gong Ho caught it prayer-like between palms. Youngest elder in Heavenly Demon Cult history—prodigy confirmed, but blocking his swift-sword thus? Unimagined.
“Told you—strutting on pitiful skill.”
Speechless under Ma Gong Ho's sneer.
“Won't kill you. But easy death? Keep the Heavenly Demon Ring.”
Ma Gong Ho released the sword, reaching for the slumping Thunderbolt. No death, but punishment—maim a limb for daring attack.
That instant.
Shrieek!
Something hurtled in with sharp air-rend.
Too fast to identify—Ma Gong Ho recoiled in terror.
Boom!
Deafening crash. Ma Gong Ho's spot cratered. At center, an iron sword buried deep.