Chapter 152
"He's not the one."
Kang Jung-ryang, the Taoist from the Kongtong Sect, shook his head after carefully examining the collapsed middle-aged man.
"There's no way the Ten Demonic Heir who killed Junior Martial Brother Pyeong would fail to block a mere Mountain-Splitting Single Sword."
Clang!
Suddenly, the sharp sound of metal clashing echoed from the opposite entrance.
There, a young man had been attempting to slip out of the mountain villa unnoticed. Blocking his path were Taoists clad in blue robes—disciples of the Zhongnan Sect.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
In the end, the man drew his sword and attacked the Zhongnan Taoists.
With each chaotic clash of weapons, hot steam rose from the man's body. Yet, his face—as if covered by a Human Skin Mask—showed not a single drop of sweat.
"The Killing Sword style of the Extreme Killing Secret Pavilion. That man is the Ten Demonic Heir."
Kang Jung-ryang shouted to the Kongtong Sect disciples.
"Assist them and attack the Ten Demonic Heir!"
Whoosh!
At his command, the Kongtong Taoists surged forward, joining the assault on the young man.
Screech!
As the Kongtong and Zhongnan disciples closed in from both sides, the man forcefully extended both arms.
Fwoosh! Fwoosh! Fwoosh!
Feather Rain Needles—thinner than strands of hair—rained down alongside a billowing Poison Mist.
But the Taoists seemed prepared for both poison and hidden weapons, covering their noses and mouths with cloth soaked in antidote.
Clatter!
The Kongtong and Zhongnan disciples deflected every needle and began pressing the man back. Their sword techniques were not only uniformly exceptional but also maintained an intricate battle formation.
Slash!
Finally, as a blade grazed his shoulder, the man hastily retreated.
"Zhongnan and Kongtong..."
The man muttered with a frustrated expression. Watching from behind, Han Seong stepped forward.
"Are you the Ten Demonic Heir?"
"I am."
The young man lightly swept his sleeve across his face, transforming his plain features into a cold, ruthless visage.
It was Seok U-haeng, the Ten Demonic Heir from the Extreme Killing Secret Pavilion.
"You set a deliberate trap to capture me."
Han Seong smiled coldly at Seok U-haeng's words.
"Of course. There's no way a master assassin from the Extreme Killing Secret Pavilion would let such a perfect opportunity slip."
A confined space—Longsword Mountain Villa. A target—the Great Righteous Experts.
And with the Washing Hands in a Golden Basin ceremony underway, the villa was teeming with figures from various sects...
No skilled assassin would ever pass up such a chance.
"Did you kill Junior Sister Yeo?"
From the Zhongnan Sect's ranks, a middle-aged man with an immortal-like demeanor stepped forward, his Taoist robe fluttering.
It was Du Ak, the third of the Zhongnan Seven Swords.
"Answer me."
Seok U-haeng smirked at Du Ak's hardened expression.
"What does it matter who killed her?"
"What did you say?"
"Whether it's you or me, we're nothing more than pieces on a board."
Then, raising his assassin's sword, he spoke indifferently.
"Let's just see how this ends."
"Your confidence is excessive."
Han Seong's voice was icy as he observed Seok U-haeng, whose robe was torn near the shoulder.
"Do you truly believe you can face all the masters here alone?"
"..."
"You were arrogant."
Han Seong stared at Seok U-haeng with unblinking eyes.
"Of course, you must have anticipated a trap here. And you must have been confident you could break through it."
Then, he let out a low scoff.
"But you never expected that not only the masters of this villa but also those from Zhongnan and Kongtong would surround you, did you?"
"Heh heh heh..."
But Seok U-haeng, who had been silently listening, suddenly burst into laughter.
"Hahahaha! You think I was arrogant?"
His gaze swept over Han Seong, Kang Jung-ryang, and Du Ak as he spoke slowly.
"My pavilion never taught me arrogance. And I already knew the underlings of Zhongnan and Kongtong would be lying in wait here."
"What did you say?"
"How long do you plan to keep flapping your mouths?"
Seok U-haeng raised his assassin's sword, the corner of his lips curling coldly.
"I'm starting to get bored."
At that, the veins on Han Seong's, Kang Jung-ryang's, and Du Ak's foreheads bulged simultaneously.
"Attack!"
With the command, the martial artists of Zhongnan, Kongtong, and Longsword Mountain Villa all launched their assault toward Seok U-haeng.
From both flanks, warriors of the Zhongnan and Gongdong sects pressed in. From the front, the swordsmen of Longsword Mountain Villa swung their gleaming blades.
No matter how formidable Seok U-haeng was, even he could not withstand such an onslaught. Yet, a composed smile still lingered at the corners of his lips.
"If I die, you won't be able to kill Han Seong either!"
Seok U-haeng, still mid-swing, suddenly shouted into the empty air, his words cryptic.
"Just how long do you plan to wait?!"
Whooosh—
Abruptly, from behind the warriors, a wave of Soundless and Voiceless palm energy surged forth.
The palm force was so insidiously subtle that it seemed like a mist descending upon them.
"Argh—!"
As the warriors turned their heads, they saw a man clad in gray robes moving like a specter, shattering their formation from the rear.
"What kind of palm technique is that?"
Han Seong, who had been observing, widened his eyes in realization.
Unlike conventional palm techniques that struck with direct force, this man's energy dispersed like fog.
Those struck by it coughed up blood and collapsed.
"Annihilation Palm?!"
Han Seong shouted as he recognized the Soundless and Voiceless palm force spreading without a trace.
"That's the Ten Demonic Heir of the Extinction Palace!"
The gray-robed figure who had appeared without warning was none other than Myo Cheon-u, the Ten Demonic Heir of the Extinction Palace.
"Seok U-haeng!"
Myo Cheon-u, still unleashing his stealthy yet rapidly expanding palm energy, called out indifferently.
"As promised, Han Seong's head is mine!"
Seok U-haeng had anticipated a trap at Longsword Mountain Villa. Before infiltrating, he had secretly contacted Myo Cheon-u, one of the surviving Ten Demonic Heirs.
Instead of fighting the hidden masters of the orthodox sects alone, he had struck a bargain—he would yield Han Seong to Myo Cheon-u in exchange for cooperation.
"Why offer me such a disadvantageous deal?"
When Myo Cheon-u had questioned him, Seok U-haeng answered immediately.
"Zhongnan and Gongdong have been relentlessly hunting me. If I don't eliminate them now, my future movements will be severely restricted."
"Then why me? If you want an ally, Bu Eun-seol... that guy would be the better choice."
"Bu Eun-seol..."
Seok U-haeng's eyes burned coldly as he replied.
"He is nothing but a rival I must crush sooner or later!"
After some hesitation, Myo Cheon-u accepted the offer.
He harbored no ambition to become the Heir of the Demon Hall. All he wanted was to win this forced battle.
And so, when the masters of Zhongnan and Gongdong appeared, he kept his word and began assisting Seok U-haeng in eliminating them.
Fwoosh—!
Myo Cheon-u mowed down the warriors of Longsword Mountain Villa like stalks of wheat.
With movement technique swift as a gale, he unleashed his palm energy toward the Taoists of Gongdong and Zhongnan.
His Annihilation Palm had already surpassed the Heaven Overturning realm, reaching the Blood Heaven realm.
The moment his palm force struck, razor-sharp internal energy burrowed into the body, tearing through qi vessels and ravaging the Five Viscera and Six Bowels.
"Guh—!"
"Argh—!"
The battle formations of the Zhongnan and Gongdong Taoists had all been focused on Seok U-haeng.
But when Myo Cheon-u suddenly appeared and rained down his Annihilation Palm from the outside, their ranks crumbled helplessly.
"I'll stop him!"
As the formation teetered on collapse, Han Seong, who had been watching, stepped forward to confront Myo Cheon-u.
Shing—!
Drawing his sword instantly, Han Seong unleashed the Flowing Dragon Sword Art, the supreme technique of Longsword Mountain Villa.
Yet after barely a dozen exchanges, the sword qi of the Flowing Dragon Sword dimmed, and the mist-like Annihilation Palm energy coiled around Han Seong's body.
The Flowing Dragon Sword Art was utterly incapable of countering the Annihilation Palm.
"Assist Seong!"
At Han Yeong-baek's command, Han Seong quickly shouted back.
"Don't worry, Father! I can handle this wretch alone!"
"Hmm."
Han Yeong-baek let out a contemplative hum, seeing through his son's bravado.
Though Longsword Mountain Villa was a renowned sword sect, it had failed to produce any truly exceptional swordsmen in recent years.
Contrary to its widespread reputation, its prestige had waned.
Han Seong intended to use this opportunity—to single-handedly defeat a Ten Demonic Heir and restore the villa's glory.
"Take this!"
Pushed into a defensive stance, Han Seong roared and altered his sword technique.
A flicker of confusion crossed Myo Cheon-u's face as he continued unleashing his relentless palm strikes.
For what he unleashed was not the Flowing Dragon Sword Art, but the Emei Sect's Whistling Cloud-Severing Sword.
"Has the young lord of Longsword Mountain Villa become a disciple of the Emei Sect?"
Despite Myo Cheon-u's sneer, Han Seong silently continued deploying the Whistling Cloud-Severing Sword.
The Martial Alliance's instructors had intensively trained him, the young lord of Longsword Mountain Villa, in the essence of the Emei Sect's Whistling Cloud-Severing Sword.
Because the Flowing Dragon Sword Art he had mastered since childhood was the pinnacle of Cloud Sword techniques—swordplay that violently altered the trajectory of Sword Qi.
It bore an uncanny resemblance to the Emei Sect's Whistling Cloud-Severing Sword.
"Haaap!"
As Han Seong unleashed the Whistling Cloud-Severing Sword, Myo Cheon-u was instantly forced on the defensive.
Swish! Swish! Swish!
The sword strokes targeted the neck and chest, yet the Sword Qi poured from the left flank and waist.
Unable to predict the initial attack's direction, Myo Cheon-u had no choice but to retreat while unleashing Palm Energy.
"That... is the Emei Sect's Cloud Sword..."
Murmurs of astonishment escaped the lips of the martial artists watching from afar.
The Cloud Sword was both similar to and entirely different from the Zhongnan Sect's Flowing Sword.
If the Flowing Sword was like a wind that slipped through all defenses, the Cloud Sword was like mist—vanishing only to reappear without warning.
"Then..."
A violet light flickered in the eyes of Myo Cheon-u, who had been steadily retreating.
"If I can't predict its path, I'll strike first!"
The moment he spoke, Myo Cheon-u unleashed the Annihilation Palm once more.
The Palm Energy, which had initially spread like fog, now hung suspended in midair, as if frozen.
He was countering the Cloud Sword's opening strike by adapting one of the Annihilation Palm's ultimate techniques—Eternal Annihilation Heart Piercing.
Clang! Crash!
Vanishing and reappearing, the palm shadows and sword shadows whirled chaotically, dazzling the onlookers.
The clash between the Annihilation Palm's energy and the Whistling Cloud-Severing Sword was a true Dragon and Tiger Matchup.
Though the exchange of opening strikes continued relentlessly, neither side could gain the upper hand.
"Aaaagh!"
"Keugh!"
Screams erupted from an unexpected direction.
In the meantime, Seok U-haeng had been systematically eliminating the martial artists of the Zhongnan and Kongtong Sects, one by one.
"You bastard!"
The Taoists of Zhongnan and Kongtong were thrown into panic.
They were all exceptional masters—among them, Du Ak of the Seven Swords of Zhongnan and Kang Jung-ryang of the Kongtong Sect, whose skills bordered on the Transcendent Realm.
Yet despite their prowess, not only had they failed to subdue Seok U-haeng, they were now being overwhelmed. It made no sense.
"You temple-trained fools could never withstand the Killing Arts of a true assassin."
The Extreme Killing Secret Pavilion did not merely specialize in the Killing Arts—their mastery of the True Void was no less formidable than the martial techniques of the other Demonic Path Ten Gates.
Now, as Seok U-haeng wielded a lethal combination of poisons and hidden weapons alongside his martial prowess, he was overpowering them despite being outnumbered.
"Help them!"
Han Yeong-baek shouted, but most of Longsword Mountain Villa's warriors had already fallen.
"Are you telling me we can't even capture these two with this many men?!"
Han Yeong-baek clenched his fists.
His son, a Great Righteous Expert, the warriors of Longsword Mountain Villa, and even the aid of Zhongnan and Kongtong—yet they were still losing ground!
Perhaps it was inevitable.
The Ten Demonic Heirs were Seasoned Heroes, forged through countless melees on Hell Island.
Unless one reached the level of a Great Righteous Expert, finding warriors capable of pushing them into crisis was nearly impossible.
"Gaaah!"
With one final choked scream, more Taoists from Zhongnan and Kongtong collapsed, blood gushing from their mouths.
Now, only Kang Jung-ryang, Du Ak, and five Taoists from each sect stood.
"Lord Han! We shall lend you our strength!"
At that moment, dozens of martial artists among the guests drew their swords and spoke to Han Yeong-baek.
"Against such odds, they seem outnumbered on their own—let us assist!"
The guests at Longsword Mountain Villa numbered roughly three hundred.
If all of them joined the fray, not even the Ten Demonic Heirs—no, not even their ancestors—could withstand them.
"So... in the end, they won't come."
Muttering an inscrutable soliloquy, Han Yeong-baek nodded helplessly—
"Ugh—"
Suddenly, the martial artists began retching.
"Blegh!"
Once the first person vomited, even those who had seemed fine moments ago began spewing bile.
"The food was poisoned!"
Someone shouted in realization.
All the dishes served until now had been laced with poison.