Chapter 689
"Stop them!"
The Yin-Knot Demon Grounds forces were thrown into chaos.
"No, stop that bastard first!"
They spotted Geon Cheong-u rampaging across the battlefield and immediately dispatched all their Iron Hammer Iron Corpse Warriors toward him.
But something bizarre began to unfold.
Despite wielding his sword with seemingly ordinary techniques, the Iron Hammer Iron Corpse Warriors were collapsing like puppets with their strings cut—one after another.
Swish! Slash-slash-slash!
Geon Cheong-u charged relentlessly through enemy lines, cutting down not only the Iron Corpse Warriors but also effortlessly beheading the commanders controlling them.
The demonkin of the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds could only stare in disbelief.
The outcome of the battle had already been decided in all but name.
Yet this madman, charging through the battlefield like a wild boar struck by lightning, had single-handedly reversed the tide of war.
—Could this be a dream?
How could a mere unit member—not even a commander—run rampant across the battlefield, carving through enemy ranks as he pleased?
Where in the world did such an absurd, preposterous spectacle exist?
"Out of my way!"
Finally, the supreme commander of the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds forces and leader of their First Battle Group, Yong Mun-gyeok, could take no more and rushed forward to confront Geon Cheong-u.
If they couldn't stop this one man, the entire battle would be overturned.
KWA-RUNG!
Yong Mun-gyeok thrust out his palm, unleashing a massive surge of palm energy like a rolling storm cloud.
But Geon Cheong-u dodged it effortlessly—only to turn his blade toward the demonkin surrounding them, severing their heads one after another with swift, merciless strokes.
It was as if he was taunting Yong Mun-gyeok: Catch me if you can.
"You bastard!"
Fury surged through Yong Mun-gyeok as he pursued Geon Cheong-u across the battlefield.
At close range, he unleashed another devastating wave of palm energy.
But as if he had been waiting for it, Geon Cheong-u pivoted mid-stride, his movement technique flaring like lightning as he thrust his sword toward Yong Mun-gyeok.
His swordplay was unfathomably profound, his footwork as swift as a bolt of fire—so perfectly timed that the moment Yong Mun-gyeok released his palm energy, the blade was already piercing forward.
And then, with a sickening thud—
Yong Mun-gyeok's palm was impaled by what should have been a powerless thrust.
"Ghk..."
Even though it was just a simple puncture wound, Yong Mun-gyeok felt as if the skin of his palm was splitting apart and his bones were freezing solid.
Only now did he realize—the sword strike had been infused with terrifying Extreme Yin Qi.
TAT!
"Who the hell are you?!" Yong Mun-gyeok roared as he leapt back.
That single sword stroke alone had revealed a swordsmanship so horrifying it defied comprehension.
"Sanghak Unit, Geon Cheong-u."
"Don't spout nonsense! What's your real identity? Why are you disguised as a mere unit member?"
"Believe it or not."
With those words, Geon Cheong-u immediately thrust his sword again.
The motion was so natural, so devoid of wasted movement, that Yong Mun-gyeok nearly offered his neck without even realizing it.
"Not a chance!"
Yong Mun-gyeok instantly countered with a dual-palm strike, unleashing the Rotting Corpse Skeleton Palm.
His martial prowess was at a level where he could easily contend with renowned masters.
The Rotting Corpse Skeleton Palm was infamous as one of the most vicious and terrifying poison palm techniques in all of Murim.
Moreover, he had mastered the Steel Body Great Method—so much so that he prided himself on being able to face even a master of the Extreme Heaven Realm in raw combat power.
But the moment he confidently unleashed the Rotting Corpse Skeleton Palm, his pride shattered like brittle glass.
KWA-AH-AH!
The poison palm energy, which should have been a concentrated strike, suddenly erupted into a storm—engulfing not only Geon Cheong-u but also the demonkin of the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds nearby.
Yet Geon Cheong-u blocked it as casually as if he were facing a third-rate palm technique.
And in the brief gaps between exchanges, he methodically cut down the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds forces one by one.
"Fine!"
Yong Mun-gyeok spread both arms wide, summoning his full power.
He even tapped into his Primordial Essence True Qi to unleash the ultimate technique of the Rotting Corpse Skeleton Palm—Absolute Poison Illumination.
KWA-U-U-U!
The sky darkened instantly, and countless poisonous palm shadows began raining down like a deadly storm.
Flicker!
In response, Geon Cheong-u conjured a single point of light high in the sky.
The radiant speck slowly ascended before blossoming into a dazzling brilliance that engulfed the heavens.
The warriors of the Death Shadow War Unit and the demonkin of the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds alike found themselves staring upward, mesmerized.
The technique Geon Cheong-u had unleashed—
It resembled a breathtaking fireworks display painting the night sky.
Ssss...
The radiance transformed into slender beams of light, and in that same instant—
The world-destroying Absolute Poison Illumination that had been descending upon them melted away as if it had never existed.
Silence blanketed the battlefield.
PING!
Then, from somewhere, a sharp Sound of Breaking Air reverberated—
And a single, razor-sharp point of light shot straight toward Yong Mun-gyeok's throat.
Geon Cheong-u unleashed his sword technique once more.
"Impossible!"
By martial arts standards alone, Yong Mun-gyeok ranked within the top five of the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds.
Moreover, he was skilled enough in esoteric ritual arts and great arts to have personally overseen the creation of the Iron Hammer Iron Corpse Warriors.
He was no mere pushover who could be felled by some flashy swordplay.
Swish! Swish!
Yet the piercing points of light came at him from angles that made evasion utterly impossible.
'I can't dodge this!'
In the end, Yong Mun-gyeok immediately activated the Demonic Steel Heaven-Splitting Horizontal Refinement—a demonic art so renowned for hardening the body beyond steel that it was called the Vajra Indestructible Body Art of the Demonic Path.
Thud!
With a metallic clang, Yong Mun-gyeok was sent flying like an arrow before crashing into a great tree over 100 feet behind him.
"Ugh!"
Fortunately, his head wasn't severed, but as he staggered back to his feet, his face twisted into a furious, half-maddened snarl.
Being sent flying like an arrow was proof of an overwhelming disparity in martial prowess.
From his perspective, this was nothing short of a humiliating disgrace in front of his subordinates.
"You bastard—!"
Crack.
Thick veins bulged across Yong Mun-gyeok's body.
Why was the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds counted among the Four Great Wicked Lands?
Not only did they unhesitatingly employ vile grand rituals like the Iron Hammer Iron Corpse Warriors—they had also mastered the forbidden Demon Gate Great Method, an art so sinister it had been outlawed by the Murim.
"If you can survive this, I'll admit defeat."
Whoom.
Before anyone realized it, a black orb-like hard-qi pellet had materialized in Yong Mun-gyeok's palm.
At first glance, it resembled the Poison Rigid Qi often wielded by Poison People—but this was something far worse.
A Resentful Bird Demon Pellet.
A forbidden demonic art, outlawed by the Murim.
To craft a single Resentful Bird Demon Pellet, one had to first torture to death children—boys and girls under ten—before grinding their entire bodies into paste.
The byproducts were then hardened and absorbed into the body through secret techniques.
When internal power was channeled, these absorbed remnants would solidify like metal.
These pellets, infused with the grudges of the dead, could obliterate any object and, upon contact with flesh, melt meridians in an instant with their Extreme Poison.
Worse still—if a Resentful Bird Demon Pellet was detonated, the area within hundreds of feet would be engulfed in Poisonous Smoke, so lethal that not even the most skilled martial artist could withstand it head-on.
"HAAP!"
Yong Mun-gyeok hurled the pellets at Geon Cheong-u.
One hundred and eighty-eight in total.
Each followed its own trajectory and speed, streaking through the air like falling stars—
Glittering as they descended.
Sssssss—
Geon Cheong-u stared blankly at the meteor shower of Resentful Bird Demon Pellets.
If even one was disturbed, this entire area would be saturated with Poisonous Smoke beyond any antidote.
And if even a single pellet grazed his body—there would be no hope of survival.
"Death."
Geon Cheong-u murmured softly.
"You shouldn't wield martial arts thinking only of killing others—while believing you yourself won't die."
Then, he raised his sword toward the sky.
Swoosh.
It was a plain, unremarkable iron sword—
But the moment he gripped it, an overwhelming presence radiated forth, like the scythe of the Grim Reaper presiding over death itself.
"Because if you deliver death to another... it may yet fall upon you as well."
Still murmuring, Geon Cheong-u swept his sword in a wide arc.
The motion was crooked—not even a perfect circle.
Yet it was so deep, so dark, that it seemed capable of swallowing the entire world within its bounds.
Whoooooosh—
Every single Resentful Bird Demon Pellet was drawn into the circle he had drawn.
And then—
They vanished without a trace.
As if they had never existed at all.
"How—?!"
Yong Mun-gyeok's eyes bulged in disbelief.
"How can the Resentful Bird Demon Pellets just disappear like that?!"
A single pellet required the corpses of ten children.
To craft one hundred and eighty-eight, he had slaughtered one thousand, eight hundred and eighty.
Refining them into pellets had taken him ten years.
And now, in an instant—every last one of them was gone.
"They didn't disappear."
Geon Cheong-u's voice was quiet.
"They simply... wander, unable to find a place to die."
Clatter.
At the same time, a black circle formed above Yong Mun-gyeok's head.
When he looked up—
There they were.
Every single Resentful Bird Demon Pellet he had fired, now suspended above him.
The seemingly haphazard circle Geon Cheong-u had drawn was, in truth, the pinnacle of saber technique—an unfathomably profound execution of martial principles.
He had invisibly redirected the pellets above his enemy's head.
The method was so subtle, so uniquely executed, that Yong Mun-gyeok hadn't even sensed it happening.
"Such martial arts... in this world..."
Those would be his final words.
Shhhh-shhh-shhhk!
The gathered pellets rained down upon Yong Mun-gyeok's head.
The pellets pierced through Yong Mun-gyeok's crown and vertically cleaved through his body.
They fell without cease, again and again, thoroughly decomposing his flesh until nothing remained.
Plop.
Before anyone realized it, only a pool of blood remained where Yong Mun-gyeok had stood.
Every trace that he had ever existed in this world had vanished.
Fwooosh!
Yet Geon Cheong-u did not halt his assault.
He began thrusting his sword into the four hundred and fifty Iron Hammer Iron Corpse Warriors waiting in the rear.
Swish!
With each swing of his blade, the bodies of the Iron Corpse Warriors shuddered.
Their Vajra Indestructibility made them too durable to shatter outright. Thus, he spun his sword at blinding speed, targeting only their joints to dismantle them.
Flash! Flash!
His movements were so swift and precise that the demonkin of the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds could only stare in dazed silence.
Rumble...
Before long, the neatly arrayed Iron Corpse Warriors collapsed in grotesque postures.
With all their critical joints destroyed, they had lost all utility as combatants.
"..."
Once more, a deathly silence settled over the battlefield.
The demonkin of the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds dared not even twitch a finger, holding their breath.
If they made even the slightest sound, they feared their heads would roll in an instant.
Geon Cheong-u, still gripping his sword, swept his gaze over the surrounding demonkin.
Thud.
One by one, they dropped their weapons and knelt.
Because the Death Shadow War Unit's forces were still watching intently, their eyes wide and unblinking.
And if a terrifying Master like him joined their ranks?
Even if they staked their lives on a desperate charge, the outcome would be total annihilation.
—So it was our Lord all along.
Only then did the warriors of the Death Shadow War Unit realize—
The man who had saved them, this Geon Cheong-u, was none other than Bu Eun-seol in disguise.
Yet none dared to call out to him or acknowledge his identity.
The Supreme Cult Commander had ordered Bu Eun-seol to negotiate with the Blood Cult regarding the invasion of the Central Plains.
If his presence here were exposed, it would spell disaster.
"W-Wow!"
Breaking the suffocating silence, Won Se-mun gasped and exclaimed,
"G-Geon Cheong-u! Your martial prowess has improved tremendously!"
Beside him, Jo Nam-cheon nodded stiffly.
"Y-Yeah, right? Thanks to you, we survi— I mean, we lived. Hahaha."
Bow.
Geon Cheong-u—no, Bu Eun-seol—clasped his hands respectfully before them, then took his place beside the Sanghak Unit members lined up behind Yu Un-ryong.
"Ahem."
Yu Un-ryong cleared his throat loudly and declared,
"Since we've accomplished our mission, shall we head back?"
He glanced around and raised his voice further.
"Well, we were only ordered to behead Yong Mun-gyeok, after all."
"Agreed."
No Trace, standing at a distance, responded. Yu Un-ryong then barked,
"All units—withdraw!"
Rumble...
The Masters of the Death Shadow War Unit turned their backs without hesitation and swiftly exited the Yin-Knot Demon Grounds.
The demonkin, still kneeling in surrender, blinked at each other in bewilderment.
They had achieved flawless victory—yet they were retreating as if fleeing?
Blink. Blink.
The remaining demonkin wore blank expressions.
Over two-thirds of their combat forces still remained.
—Did they not even deem us worth finishing off...?
Decades of painstaking effort had gone into forging the Iron Hammer Iron Corpse Warriors, yet most lay shattered. Yong Mun-gyeok, the leader of the First Battle Group who had created them, was dead.
With the pinnacle of their sect erased...
What remained was no longer one of Murim's Four Great Wicked Lands—
But a second-rate faction, unworthy of fear.
Blood Cult, Brightness Hall
Thick crimson curtains draped the vast hall, and behind them, a figure sat rigidly upright upon the grand armchair.
Blood Cult Leader Pae Reuk-gyeol.
Red smoke coiled from within the curtains, casting an eerie, hellish aura—as if the King of Hell himself had risen from the underworld to preside.
Facing him stood Seo Jin-ha and Myo Cheon-u, both disguised as Bu Eun-seol.
Pae Reuk-gyeol remained motionless behind the veil, while Seo Jin-ha and Myo Cheon-u sat like stone statues, equally expressionless.
Had about a quarter-hour passed?
The doors creaked open, and a young man in red robes cautiously approached, kneeling before Pae Reuk-gyeol.
"It has taken effect."
[Hmm.]
Pae Reuk-gyeol exhaled a low hum.
His voice carried a strange, dizzying resonance, forcing Seo Jin-ha and Myo Cheon-u to subtly circulate their internal energy to resist it.
[Very well.]
After a prolonged silence, Pae Reuk-gyeol spoke in a deep, measured tone.
[If you provide the prescription to restore this dantian and the necessary herbs, I shall order the Blood-Sound Cult to cease their activities in Dongting Lake.]
Seo Jin-ha shook his head firmly.
"That won't do."
His gaze sharpened like a blade as he stared through the curtain.
"Withdraw the Blood-Sound Cult to the western frontier. Do that, and we will supply you with the herbs for a fixed period."
Then he added another condition.
"And after one year, we'll supply ten Spirit Pills annually—each capable of restoring a dantian."
[...]
"And if you're thinking of reverse-engineering the pills, don't bother. It'll be pointless."
Seo Jin-ha spoke dispassionately.
"After all, the medicinal herbs required as ingredients can only be found within our faction's territory."
To be precise, it was the Cloud Sea Azure Spirit Palace—but there was no need to mention that outright.
"That is the final condition Lord Martial Soul is willing to offer."
Having been briefed on the entire situation by Myo Cheon-u, Seo Jin-ha was now negotiating with Pae Reuk-gyeol on Bu Eun-seol's behalf.
Thanks to the miraculous herbs of the Cloud Sea Azure Spirit Palace, the negotiations had finally gained traction.
But this wasn't just about walking away—it was about achieving Bu Eun-seol's intended goal.
[Honestly, it doesn't matter what conditions you attach.]
Pae Reuk-gyeol's voice was icy.
[Once our sect's Masters recover their strength, we'll have the power to sweep through the Demon Hall—no, the entire Central Plains.]
The Blood Cult's military might was on par with the combined forces of the Demon Hall and the Demonic Path Ten Gates.
And if they obtained a cure for their chronic affliction?
They could immediately restore their former glory and launch an invasion of the Central Plains.
If that happened, Seo Jin-ha would be committing a grave sin against the Central Plains murim—all under the pretense of negotiation.
[And yet, you still intend to proceed with this deal?]
"Of course."
Seo Jin-ha answered without hesitation.
"Invade if you can. Lord Martial Soul won't care either way."
[You think we can't?]
"Far from it. Even if you were to rise up and invade our faction this very moment, I know better than to predict the outcome."
The Blood Cult had no shortage of troops—and people. Moreover, its followers feared no death.
They believed that sacrificing themselves for the cult would grant them passage to the Hall of Eternal Life.
That was why they hadn't so much as flinched when Seo Jin-ha had cut down a hundred of their followers.
On top of that, every Blood Cultist had mastered a mysterious secret art, and their elite forces outnumbered the Demon Hall's by twofold.
If the two factions clashed, no one could guarantee who would emerge victorious.
'That's exactly why the Blood Cult has always been a target of the Central Plains murim's vigilance.'
"I mean every word."
Seo Jin-ha swallowed his thoughts and spoke plainly.
"Once you've regained your full strength, you're welcome to come and attack us anytime."
A strange glint flickered in Pae Reuk-gyeol's eyes.
He had realized that Seo Jin-ha's words were no jest.
[Why.]
"I'll explain my reasons—if you accept the terms."
At Seo Jin-ha's response, Pae Reuk-gyeol fell silent.
Truthfully, these restrictions were nothing but beneficial for the Blood Cult—there was no downside.
Yet the reason he hesitated was simple.
The one proposing this negotiation wasn't the Demonic Heavenly Emperor—but the Martial Soul Lord.
No matter how prodigious this new-generation Grandmaster was, if he truly respected the weight and authority of the Blood Cult—
He should have at least summoned Yeop Hyo-cheon, the so-called Dark King.
But here he was, faced with some greenhorn youth... It was a matter of pride.
[Do you take our cult for fools?]
"If it seems that way, then I've succeeded."
At Seo Jin-ha's calm reply, Pae Reuk-gyeol's eyes flashed behind the curtain.
This was the Blood Cult's headquarters.
Even the Demonic Heavenly Emperor couldn't guarantee his survival if he came here alone.
And yet, Seo Jin-ha's pulse, expression—not a single physiological response betrayed even a trace of tension or fear.
[Just as I'd heard—you're slightly mad.]
Pae Reuk-gyeol's lips parted.
What came next would determine whether Seo Jin-ha and Myo Cheon-u lived or died.
"Haah..."
But at that moment, Seo Jin-ha furrowed his brow and sighed deeply.
"Is all this deliberation really necessary for a negotiation where you stand to gain everything and lose nothing?"
His voice even carried a hint of irritation.
'Seo Jin-ha. Have you lost your mind?'
Myo Cheon-u, who had been sitting silently beside him, felt his vision blur.
This attitude of Seo Jin-ha's—
It wasn't the kind of attitude one should display before the Blood Cult Leader, an attitude that had even made the Demonic Heavenly Emperor uneasy.
'The Blood Cult Leader isn't someone you can persuade with sheer audacity.'
As the suffocating tension thickened, cold sweat drenched Myo Cheon-u's back.
Pae Reuk-gyeol was a Great Demon by nature—wicked and impossible to predict, his emotions shifting between joy and fury without warning.
As the leader of a heretical sect, he had spent his life commanding fear, worship, and absolute obedience.
And now, to brazenly push negotiations forward without a care—
It was nothing more than increasing the odds of getting beheaded.
But unlike the inwardly panicking Myo Cheon-u, Seo Jin-ha wore a faint, confident smile.
'Good. Keep glaring at me like that—and rack your brains all you want.'
Madness flickered in Seo Jin-ha's eyes.
'The more you do, the more you'll have no choice but to accept.'
Before coming to the Blood Cult, he had immediately sought out information on Pae Reuk-gyeol.
For a figure of such influence in the murim, intelligence organizations kept meticulous records.
—The Blood Cult Leader, Pae Reuk-gyeol's sorcery is founded upon fear and terror.
Back in the Hidden Demon Pavilion, Seo Jin-ha's eyes had widened as he swiftly scanned through the records.
—Found it.
And at last, he had discovered the key to successfully steering these negotiations.