Chapter 101
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: Burn the Beacon of Counterattack (2)
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The festival of destruction and violence unleashed by Wol-ryeong raged on.
A shell of pristine white flames streaked toward one corner, and the grotesque Yoma gathered there shattered into pieces, scattering as blood and flesh.
The flames veered to another spot, unleashing the same gruesome scene.
Hell on earth.
Death upon death, screams echoing, relentless pursuit, violence inflicted, annihilation and extermination—the landscape of slaughter unfolded.
Amid it all, Wol-ryeong moved her arms and legs with calm detachment, as if performing routine labor.
The foot-long wooden staff gripped in her hand was now wreathed in pure white light, transformed into the form of a greatsword.
She swung the weapon like a tempest, carving through the Yoma.
Another explosion.
And a torrent of white flames swept the chamber.
Dozens of Yoma caught in the fiery wave ignited.
They were exorcised. Purified. Vanishing in agony.
"Ah... Aaaah...!!"
Vice-Bishop Yeom watched the spectacle.
His nurtured cult, the followers who had grown under the grace of "Her" whom he adored—they were being erased.
"Uwaaaaaaaaah!! Stop it, stooop!!!"
He charged, swinging a grotesquely twisted arm swollen with muscle, like a beast.
But Wol-ryeong effortlessly leaped aside, landing at a distance.
From her new vantage, she struck at the followers again.
She prioritized the trash Yoma first, then the middling ones around B-Grade level.
"Look at meeee!!!"
Wol-ryeong's eyes flicked toward Vice-Bishop Yeom with bored indifference.
They shifted away just as quickly. Clear out the easy garbage first. The vice-bishops could wait.
A few weak vice-bishops had fallen along the way, but that was mere coincidence—they were feeble enough to dispatch effortlessly.
"【Resound, resound, the sacred song】."
Swinging her sword like a whirlwind, hopping from spot to spot like a rabbit or deer, Wol-ryeong's clear incantation rang out.
Three or four more Yoma fell to her blade.
From their severed wounds, pristine white purifying flames erupted, and they screamed "Kwaaaagh!" without even dying cleanly.
"【Burn, burn, with the flames of exorcism】!!"
Wol-ryeong's eyes blazed.
Her empty hand thrust forward. Beyond it, the scene erupted in flames. A fresh torrent of light devoured the Yoma.
They vanished without even a scream.
Torsos erased leaving legs behind, halves gone, heads severed with only necks remaining—they crumpled to the floor, burning away to nothing.
"Stop, stop itttt...!!!!!!!"
Vice-Bishop Yeom cried out amid tears.
His arms ballooned like a gorilla's, long and massive. He flailed them wildly, smashing the chamber as he pursued Wol-ryeong.
Yet she remained untouchable.
Silently, calmly, she persisted in what tormented him most. She made his suffering followers writhe in greater agony, mercilessly cutting down those who fought or fled.
Ravaging them.
Slaughtering them.
Annihilating them.
Vice-Bishop Yeom wailed.
He had sought to practice true love.
He truly loved this cult and its followers.
Each death tore at his heart, yet he chased Wol-ryeong.
But she eluded him.
Instead, his near-miss swings struck followers whose legs had burned away, immobile—sending them flying.
The victim screamed silently.
Yeom sobbed over striking his beloved brother.
"Ah, forgive... I can't forgive, forgive... Uwa, aaaaaaah...!!!"
Blood surged to his head.
His vision reddened with rage.
He could not forgive.
Never.
"Everything alright, Dom?"
"Ah, Master."
Meanwhile, as the battle raged on.
Someone approached Dom, who cradled Mina while hidden.
It was Vice-Bishop Gui—no, the Chairman—cloaked in the same spell as Dom.
Sensing Wol-ryeong's change, he had swiftly hidden with sorcery.
He aimed to disrupt her senses by matching Dom's spell.
It worked, or perhaps she had no interest in him to begin with—either way, Wol-ryeong ignored him entirely.
"Ryeong is so cool, strong, and beautiful as always. I think I'm falling for her again today."
"Is that so? That's wonderful. I think love is magnificent."
"...Master saying something like that. Have you been swayed after infiltrating this cult for so long?"
"What are you talking about? I've always been a romantic. I believe love is great."
A blatant lie.
Dom clicked her tongue inwardly.
Or perhaps not a lie.
She could detect falsehoods, and her ability confirmed his words rang true.
But truth didn't mean his "love" matched the common sort.
It was likely more twisted than the cult's doctrine—hopelessly so.
No "likely" about it. Certainly.
Not nine out of ten, but ten out of ten.
'That's our Master—a human that twisted.'
"So, is this incident another form of that love? Like giving them trials to snap them to their senses in a dramatic climax?"
Was this his grand design?
His thoughts strayed so far beyond norms that even she, a succubus, couldn't guess.
Still, his intent seemed to gather the Camellia cult's followers and let a Wol-ryeong wipe them out.
Probably layered with two, no, five or six more motives.
Dom couldn't fully grasp her master's intentions.
What absurd scheme drove this time...
"No. Not at all."
"Eh? Then what? A show that you don't love Ryeong?"
"No, not that. Just that it wasn't my intention."
Dom gave him a puzzled look.
The Chairman shrugged with a hollow laugh.
"All I predicted was that Wol-ryeong wouldn't be chosen. And that was less than a 50% chance. I prepared Mina as a contingency. That's it. Nothing more."
"...What? Then Ryeong right now—"
"Surprising, isn't it? She snapped out of it alone in that situation. What kind of woman is she? Even I don't get it."
The Chairman and Dom exchanged silent glances.
She had thought it a joke, but her lie detector insisted he spoke pure truth.
Then, really.
'......What do I do.'
—She might fall even harder.
Dom gazed at Wol-ryeong battling once more.
Her eyes burned with deeper affection and desire than before.
Excitement toward Mina. Joy at the unexpected turn.
Dom loved such thrills.
And Wol-ryeong, defying all norms, hit her tastes perfectly.
Wol-ryeong's power was overwhelming, but the extermination wasn't effortless.
First, Vice-Bishop Yeom had drained her spiritual power dry.
She had replenished and bolstered it by unsealing the East seal, but with her own reserves depleted, she felt the shortfall.
Moreover, the post-unsealing power was "borrowed."
Controlling it required her native spiritual power too.
Right now, Wol-ryeong strained to tame the rampaging white energy within.
Her movements lacked their usual sharpness. Unsealing more—like the West seal—was restricted.
She looked fine, but bore heavy constraints.
Honestly, she performed at less than a tenth of her potential.
Second, the sheer number of Yoma.
And not all were weaklings.
Trash Yoma vanished in moments as she moved lightly.
But even at a glance, C-Grade or higher resisted easy kills.
One slash became two or three to fell them; higher grades took longer. Some endured her attacks and counterstruck precariously.
Stronger than expected. Hindering her total annihilation.
Third, remnants of hypnosis lingered.
Affection and devotion force-fed through Yeom's special curriculum.
It dulled her strikes slightly.
She swung sword and fist with duty-deadened heart, fully aware.
Her movements lacked the edge of her usual self.
Thus, it took longer than anticipated.
Nearly nine-tenths of the chamber's Yoma took 15 minutes to clear.
Hundreds once gathered now lay as scattered flesh and ash.
'Took longer than expected.'
'In better shape, under five minutes.'
Regret tinged her thoughts as she faced forward.
She paused the slaughter.
Partly to catch breath before the strong foe, partly to observe Vice-Bishop Yeom, who had stopped chasing her.
Wol-ryeong had personally slain nine-tenths.
The remaining tenth, now nearly gone, fell to Yeom's hands.
Crunch crunch crunch crunch
Crunch munch crunch munch
Screams of "Kwaaaagh!" echoed.
Cries of agony resounded.
From Yeom and the followers he devoured.
Instead of pursuing Wol-ryeong, he seized nearby Yoma, tearing into them with his horrific maw, chewing and swallowing.
Sometimes gulping them whole.
Vice-bishops went first; including the two Wol-ryeong burned, none remained.
Wait, Vice-Bishop Gui? Too crowded—she wasn't sure if she'd killed him.
"...Weren't they your beloved followers?"
"Beloved... followers, yes. My family, my brothers."
He answered without stopping his relentless chomping.
Chewing comrades' bones and flesh in that nightmare mouth, tears streamed from his eyes.
A bizarre sight. Crocodile tears?
"Because I love them... I'm taking care of it. Better my blood and flesh serve 'Her' eternally than waste away to the likes of you. Surely they'd prefer that...!"
What a horror.
At least to Wol-ryeong's eyes, the devoured Yoma showed no joy.
Before her, Vice-Bishop Yeom continued devouring followers.
Until the last one besides himself was cleanly consumed.
