A Miscalculated Trap
“……Aaaargh!”
“Gack!”
The moment he stepped out of the main building, a horrific shriek pierced his ears.
Seo Do-yeom immediately pinpointed the direction and dashed forward, leading his subordinates.
Swish!
He channeled his lightfoot technique to its absolute limit, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he ran.
The defensive line erected from the island's shore to the docks had been utterly obliterated.
The path leading back to the main building was littered with corpses, shredded flesh, and splatters of blood.
The stench of blood was so overwhelming that the river's natural fishy odor was completely drowned out.
Despite the pitch-black night shrouded in darkness, whenever a stray glint of light caught the water, it revealed a river dyed crimson.
The river was deep, yet it had been stained red.
It meant countless lives had already been snuffed out.
“Fortress Master! L-Look over there!”
“!!”
Following the direction the vice-fortress master pointed, everyone’s jaws dropped in unison.
Two streaks of light flashed through the dark.
Every time the twin swords carved through the air, three or four men were sliced apart and killed.
Jeok-un, the very instigator of this carnage, had already fought his way to the doorstep of the main building.
What on earth is that monster?
Seo Do-yeom swallowed hard.
He could feel the Yin and Yang energies thrashing wildly before his eyes.
It was a battle waged like a wild beast.
True to his moniker, he was the very incarnation of the Illusion-Shattering Mad Wolf.
As Seo Do-yeom closely observed the scene, his eyes gradually grew calm and cold.
My assumptions were wrong. That brat really defeated Dang Maeng with his own strength.
Even as Seo Do-yeom reached this conclusion, his subordinates were dying by the second.
Yet, he had no intention of stepping in to save them. He merely watched Jeok-un’s movements, committing every detail to memory.
His sole purpose in sacrificing his men was to gauge Jeok-un's martial arts and combat prowess.
That is not the martial arts of the Jegal Family. Rather than an orthodox style, those sword strikes were forged in blood, just like ours.
It lacked the rigid forms and principles typical of orthodox martial arts refined over generations.
Seo Do-yeom’s assessment was accurate. The martial art Jeok-un was currently wielding was the Red Heaven Galaxy Sword.
The Red Heaven Galaxy Sword was an extremely practical style that Jeok-un had personally created while drifting through countless battlefields before his regression.
But if that's the case, you cannot defeat me.
Seo Do-yeom was brimming with confidence.
And his reasoning was sound.
No matter how much he raised his realm by relying on divine weapons, it is impossible for a mere brat to match my decades of experience and insights.
In martial arts, the character for 'art' also carries the meaning of 'achievement' and 'accumulation.'
The passage of time spent cultivating was a weapon in its own right.
Having lived his entire life as an unorthodox martial artist, Seo Do-yeom had encountered, broken, and slaughtered countless opponents like Jeok-un.
The only things I need to watch out for are those two mysterious divine weapons.
For a brief moment, an uncontrollable greed flickered in Seo Do-yeom's eyes.
Even a glance told him those weapons were extraordinary.
If only he could lay his hands on them...
The towering wall of the Profound Realm that had blocked him for so long.
He might finally be able to shatter it.
Thus, heedless of his men's deaths, Seo Do-yeom focused entirely on analyzing Jeok-un.
The more information he gathered, the easier it would be to deal with the boy when the time came.
“Fortress Master! Are you just going to stand by and watch?!”
Dong Ak, the Silent Cleaving Axe of the Five Heads of the Ghost Sea, shouted in frustration from his side.
Starting with the youngest, Deung Pyeong, three of their brothers had already perished, leaving the "Five Heads" reduced to a mere duo.
“Our brothers are dying—! Urgh...!”
But Dong Ak's protest was cut short.
Before he could even finish his sentence,
Seo Do-yeom grabbed him by the throat.
“F-Fortress Master... gurgle.”
“Where do you think you are...”
Seo Do-yeom muttered, glaring coldly at Dong Ak, the second of the Five Heads.
“...to act so insolently?”
“*Gack*, *urgh*...!”
Seo Do-yeom’s grip tightened.
Dong Ak’s windpipe began to crush under the pressure.
Finally—
Crack!
Dong Ak's throat collapsed, and his body went completely limp.
Seo Do-yeom cast a murderous glance at the corpse before tossing it aside like a piece of trash.
“Vice-Fortress Master.”
“Y-Yes, Fortress Master!”
Heuk Sang-gwi, the Black Image Demon, who was now the sole survivor of the Five Heads and the vice-fortress master, hurriedly bowed his head.
“Deploy the rotation formation. Wear him down.”
“Understood!”
Bowing deeply to Seo Do-yeom, Heuk Sang-gwi immediately led his direct subordinates and charged toward Jeok-un.
“Kill him!!”
“Die!”
“You bastard!!”
Seo Do-yeom stood still, watching Heuk Sang-gwi and his men engage in battle.
Though he already foresaw their demise, he felt absolutely nothing.
To him, his subordinates were merely disposable pawns.
Staring at Jeok-un, Seo Do-yeom curled his lips into a cruel smirk.
Those who raise their realm through divine weapons always make the same mistake.
They think that just because their martial arts have grown stronger, their endurance has increased as well.
But when it comes to the absolute volume of internal energy, no genius, no matter how brilliant, can overcome the barrier of time.
The moment his strength falters even slightly...
...I will take his head.
Seo Do-yeom repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists, waiting for the perfect moment.
The moment Jeok-un's strength began to wane.
From the moment he set foot on Geukrak Island, Jeok-un had been thoroughly enjoying the exhilaration of battle.
The bastards of Black Hegemony Castle certainly know how to put up a fun fight.
The same went for Heuk Sang-gwi, the vice-fortress master of Geukrak Island, and the subordinates who had just lunged at him.
Even when deploying the same rotation or sword formations, the orthodox and unorthodox factions were worlds apart.
While the orthodox faction obsessed over prestige and saving face, the unorthodox fighters of Black Hegemony Castle threw all of that away, risking everything solely to kill their opponent.
Dirty, vicious, and relentless.
“Die!”
“Hold him down!”
“Now!”
To restrict his movement by even a single step, to hinder him for even a split second.
They threw themselves forward with utter disregard for their own lives.
They did not hesitate to employ tactics that orthodox martial artists shunned as cowardly and dishonorable.
The most prominent example was the Lazy Donkey Roll.
While orthodox warriors considered the Lazy Donkey Roll too humiliating to ever use, the thugs of Black Hegemony Castle rolled on the ground without a shred of hesitation.
Naturally, they threw handfuls of dirt mixed with poison and hidden weapons while doing so.
“Argh! M-My arm...!”
They didn't care if their own allies were caught in the crossfire of their hidden weapons.
As mentioned, they were monsters who would do absolutely anything to win.
Even if it meant using their comrades as bait.
But this is what a real fight is.
Crunch!
Splat!
Jeok-un dealt with these ambushes and underhanded attacks with practiced ease, systematically slaughtering them one by one.
W-What...?!
Isn't that guy from the Jegal Family?
How is he so accustomed to this...?
He was so calm that Heuk Sang-gwi and his men began to panic.
As if to prove his survival was no fluke, Jeok-un dodged what needed to be dodged, deflected what needed to be deflected, and even turned their own dirty tricks against them to thin their numbers.
“D-Don't overextend! Fall back!”
Heuk Sang-gwi adjusted his orders, but internally, he was in utter disbelief.
Damn it, how can a wet-behind-the-ears brat fight like this?!
Even an orthodox martial artist could react like Jeok-un if they had decades of experience.
But Jeok-un was barely twenty.
He was at an age where he should still have peach fuzz on his cheeks, so how could he fight with such seasoned brutality?
With their rotation tactics yielding zero results, Heuk Sang-gwi grew increasingly desperate.
Normally, their target should have been running around like a rat in a trap, slowly bleeding out.
Tsk, we can't go on like this.
Whoosh!
Deciding he could no longer stand idly by, Heuk Sang-gwi lunged in a desperate bid.
Slash!
Whoosh!
He swung his scythe, infused to the brim with internal energy, in a relentless flurry.
Yet, not a single strike grazed his target.
Now then—
Just as Jeok-un was about to calmly cut Heuk Sang-gwi down,
Whoosh!
Boom!
“*Ack!*”
“...!”
With a violent gust of wind, Heuk Sang-gwi was sent flying forward.
His posture was broken, his face contorted in pain, his body hurtling through the air like a discarded sack of grain.
And right behind him,
Seo Do-yeom finally revealed himself, wearing a triumphant smirk.
He used his own subordinate as a projectile.
True to his title as the Sea Overflowing Fist Madman, he had blasted his own subordinate forward with a gust of fist wind to close the distance.
And his target was none other than—
Clang!
“Caught you.”
Wol-ha.
To Jeok-un's surprise, Seo Do-yeom had grabbed the blade of Wol-ha with his right hand, which was clad in the Seolhon Sutou.
At that moment, the Seolhon Sutou glowed with a sinister light.
Whoosh!
It began to rapidly drain the Yin energy from Wol-ha.
“...!”
Jeok-un tried to wrench the blade free, but it wouldn't budge an inch.
“The Seolhon Sutou devours the Yin energy of all things!”
Seo Do-yeom declared triumphantly. He wasn't boasting; it was the absolute truth.
Even now, the Yin energy of Wol-ha was rapidly fading.
Whoosh!
Slash!
Jeok-un immediately swung Il-cheon.
Seo Do-yeom finally retreated, dodging the blazing sword qi.
Yet, in that brief instant, his objective had been fully realized.
Sssss...
Before he knew it, Wol-ha had withered in Jeok-un's hand like a faded flower.
Whoosh!
Conversely, the Seolhon Sutou was now glowing with a brilliant, pure white light.
“Hehehe! Hahaha!”
Seo Do-yeom cackled at the sight.
“Now, one of your swords is sealed.”
The Seolhon Sutou on his hands radiated an even more intense Yin energy.
It was a level of cold that would have frozen Dang Maeng to death instantly.
Yet, Seo Do-yeom handled the gauntlets with ease, seemingly unaffected.
He had completely mastered the Seolhon Sutou, the priceless treasure of the North Sea Ice Palace.
“These divine weapons exceed my expectations. They are far too good for a brat like you.”
Seo Do-yeom sneered, brimming with confidence.
Step. Step.
The boy had surely exhausted a significant portion of his energy fighting his subordinates.
On top of that, he had just lost one of the divine weapons that had enabled him to cause this chaos.
There is absolutely no way you can defeat me now!
Certain that victory was within his grasp, Seo Do-yeom slowly closed the distance, scattering frost in all directions.
“Brat, you might have achieved a high realm through sheer luck, but treasures always find their rightful masters. If you want a quick death, hand them over right—”
But before Seo Do-yeom could finish his sentence,
“Tsk. I wondered how long you'd keep spouting nonsense, but you just don't stop.”
“!!”
Jeok-un cut him off, channeling his Overlord's Divine Qi.
Whoosh!
Rumble!
A monstrous amount of internal energy erupted destructively from Jeok-un's body.
W-What?!
Seo Do-yeom could not hide his sheer bewilderment.
The moment Jeok-un unleashed his Overlord's Divine Qi,
Whoosh!
Flash!
As if mocking the idea that its Yin energy had ever been stolen,
Wol-ha began to radiate a white light far more brilliant than before.
“This is exactly why washed-up old men are such a pain.”
“You...!”
Jeok-un openly mocked the stunned Seo Do-yeom.
“They can't even see that their own eyes are failing them, yet they think the world revolves around their delusions.”
Jeok-un's eyes flashed with a light colder than Wol-ha itself.