Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Nine Divisions - Mission, Intelligence (9)
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While Namgung Jincheon was stirring up a commotion, the other squad members were infiltrating the manor's interior.
The inner quarters where the demonic leader waited lay at the deepest point.
They encountered no other demons along the way.
“Most of them must have their eyes drawn to the Sword Dragon. The remaining demons who haven't shown themselves are likely the key forces guarding the core.”
They couldn't expand their senses to confirm.
If they spread their qi here, the enemy would sense their position as well.
All they could do was gauge the enemy's strength and divide their manpower accordingly.
“If Seon-u is correct, the hostages are held in the clan leader's private chambers within the inner quarters. Given the manor's layout, it's impossible to reach without being detected.”
That was the logical assumption.
“Jegal San.”
Dang Hwa-seo looked toward Jegal San.
Jegal San grinned.
“Leave it to me.”
Jegal San's simplified formations and footwork were optimized for moving under cover of night.
No one was better suited to deceiving the enemy's awareness and rescuing the hostages.
Even so, they couldn't leave it entirely to him.
The inner quarters housed the demons' elite forces, so they needed to draw attention away.
“Il-un Monk and White Phoenix will join me to handle the other demons. If our information is right, they'll outnumber us by one, but I believe we have a solid chance of victory.”
Hye-un and Il-un nodded.
Confirming this, Dang Hwa-seo turned to Mok Ri-won.
“Young Hero Mok.”
“Yes?”
“Young Hero Mok, you must capture the leader. You're the most complete in terms of martial prowess among us. Can you do it?”
Mok Ri-won nodded with a resolute expression.
“I'll do it. No, I will succeed.”
The most dangerous path should fall to him, the one who had stubbornly insisted on this.
With that thought, Mok Ri-won rose to his feet.
The other squad members stood as well.
“Jegal San, move when the battle begins.”
“I wish you good fortune.”
“Then we're off.”
Thud!
With Dang Hwa-seo leaping forward as the signal, the squad members scattered.
*
Flame Demon O Gang-ak still lay in the room.
His eyes were closed, utterly motionless, resembling a corpse—yet the occasional twitch of his toes betrayed that he lived.
‘Heavenly Slaughter Star...’
O Gang-ak mulled it over.
His face twisted.
A certain figure came to mind.
The man who always gazed down at him with scarlet pupils.
The man who had stolen his position, one he could tear apart a thousand times and still not sate his rage.
The current Little Cult Leader.
—I'm sparing you, horse. This is the utmost mercy I can offer.
O Gang-ak touched his own face.
Recalling him made the facial skin he had lost to that man throb.
‘Filthy worm.’
The corner of O Gang-ak's mouth twisted upward.
‘To become a cripple over losing a single star. How pathetic.’
O Gang-ak sneered inwardly at the Little Cult Leader.
The pitch-black, hardened eyes from losing the Heavenly Slaughter Star, the wretched sight of him wasting away on drugs, the lingering obsession driving this invasion of the Central Plains—all of it was laughable.
By orders, he had to keep the thief alive.
Only if he lived could they reclaim the star.
But.
‘Why should I?’
O Gang-ak had no intention of letting him live.
If he snapped the Heavenly Slaughter Star's neck now, the star would be lost forever.
That would gift eternal despair to that damned bastard.
“Keuheheh!”
O Gang-ak convulsed with explosive laughter.
“Heavenly Demonnn~ Supremacyyy~.”
Like hell.
“A worm relying on a star has no place here.”
O Gang-ak stealthily rose.
He sensed an approaching presence.
“Well then, time to greet our guest.”
Congealed blood flaked off his body in chunks.
Demonic qi billowed upward.
Roaring flames transformed into blood-red ghostly fire, enveloping O Gang-ak.
Red Flame Demonic Art.
The demonic art that had elevated him to Little Cult Leader and earned him the title Flame Demon was now manifesting.
O Gang-ak charged forward, kicking the door open.
He thrust out his fist.
In that instant.
Boom!
Mok Ri-won, who had been waiting for an opening outside, drew his sword to block the fist.
“You look well, you bastard!”
As O Gang-ak cackled and shouted, Mok Ri-won's eyes sharpened.
“Demon.”
“Die!”
The flames swirling around O Gang-ak suddenly swelled.
Then, they detonated.
Boom!
Mok Ri-won was hurled back.
*
Mok Ri-won had pondered one thing on his way here.
‘Can I defeat a demon without relying on the star?’
With the Heavenly Slaughter Star, it would be easy.
Even if the demon had reached the Peak Realm, Mok Ri-won was confident he could triumph using the star.
Why not?
The Heavenly Slaughter Star discerned all killing intent and movements.
The Extreme Demonic Body pierced the essence of any demonic art employed.
To Mok Ri-won, a demon was an opponent whose every move he could see through.
No matter how strong, defeat was impossible in such a scenario.
But he couldn't do that.
‘I'd be consumed by the killing intent.’
The paths shown by the Heavenly Slaughter Star were all killing blows.
What the Extreme Demonic Body craved was to dye this body in demonic qi.
—Won-ah, do you know why demonic arts are called demonic arts? Because even knowing their harm to the body, they bind the heart with irresistible temptation. Once you taste it even once, you can never return to your former training.
Mok Ri-won knew.
He wasn't yet steadfast enough to repel the surging temptation.
Not strong enough to turn it back against itself.
The method used in his spar with Namgung Jincheon had worked only because the opponent had no intent to kill.
It was impossible now.
A demon's killing intent would be far more overt and vicious than Namgung Jincheon's.
‘Fist Demon. There's only one reason I couldn't beat him.’
Despite vowing otherwise, he had subconsciously leaned on the Heavenly Slaughter Star.
It stemmed from gambling on an uncontrollable power in crises.
Thus, the method Mok Ri-won devised was different.
‘Forms.’
Moves that followed a precise intent along a fixed path.
They would allow him to slay the demon untouched by killing intent.
As long as he didn't stray from sword forms, he wouldn't accidentally strike vital points.
If he entrusted all thought to the forms meticulously and mechanically, the temptation wouldn't sway him.
And for that, he had forged a sword art.
‘Ten Thousand Lotuses Sword.’
A sword art he had created himself to overcome the absence of forms he felt against Fist Demon Pae Ung-chu.
With this, he could face that demon.
“Why so cautious? Hm? With the Heavenly Slaughter Star, you should rampage fiercer.”
O Gang-ak snickered.
The blood-red ghostly fire coiling around him flicked its tongue menacingly at Mok Ri-won.
Mok Ri-won asked.
“…So you do know about this star.”
“Of course.”
“How?”
O Gang-ak halted.
He wore a blank expression for a moment, then burst into mad laughter.
“Kuahaha! How naive. Why would I tell you?”
“Because if you don't, you'll suffer terribly.”
“Pah.”
“I'm not joking.”
Mok Ri-won assumed his stance.
His scabbard lay discarded far away; he gripped the sword with both hands.
“I won't kill you. But I won't let you live free either. I'll make you writhe in agony.”
It was the preparatory form.
O Gang-ak's expression hardened.
He stared at Mok Ri-won for a long while with an emotion the young man couldn't fathom, then murmured.
“…Always like that.”
“Hm?”
“You lot. Those with stars.”
Thud.
O Gang-ak stepped forward.
Tendons bulged grotesquely across the half-flayed skin of his face.
“You strut around on just one innate star. As if you're anything without it.”
Mok Ri-won frowned.
But he couldn't dwell further.
O Gang-ak charged at him.
Roar!
Ghostly fire shot forth.
Simultaneously, O Gang-ak's right hand spread wide, clawing toward Mok Ri-won's face.
Would all the world's hatred gathered feel like this?
Emotions boiled in festering resentment like this?
With sunken eyes, Mok Ri-won regarded the malice surging with that hand and spoke.
“…If you won't tell me, I'll find out myself.”
Mok Ri-won's advance was swift.
Surpassing human perception, his sword danced from blind spots.
Crunch!
In a flash, precisely seven strikes.
Mok Ri-won's sword sliced through O Gang-ak's finger joints, wrist, forearm, and elbow.
No flesh fell away.
O Gang-ak had concentrated demonic qi into his arm in that instant.
O Gang-ak's blood painted the air as their bodies crossed, positions swapping.
Neither halted.
O Gang-ak stomped and lunged again.
This time, his leg extended.
Flame Hammer Kick.
The flame-wreathed leg aimed for Mok Ri-won's solar plexus.
Swoosh—.
Inky qi aura flowed from Mok Ri-won's body, sheathing his sword.
He swung again at superhuman speed.
Once more, Mok Ri-won held the advantage.
Crunch.
Eleven strikes total.
Sword afterimages blurred as he slashed from O Gang-ak's toes to waist, intent on grinding the leg to dust.
He didn't stop.
Regulating his breath in an instant, Mok Ri-won accelerated further, pressing O Gang-ak.
The strikes per exchange multiplied.
From seven to eleven, then eighteen and thirty-one.
Then forty-two and fifty-one.
The number of slashes grew relentlessly, yet the time they took remained chillingly constant.
Ten Thousand Lotuses Sword, First Form.
Soul-Stealing Swift Strike.
A sword that gathered only swift sword essences from the Murim Alliance's arts, linking them into forms that grew faster with each link.
Initially powered by arm strength alone, it accelerated using resistance, repulsion, and qi clashes.
Craaaunch—!
Sounds of rending flesh and bone continued.
Mok Ri-won's form blurred now.
Sparks alone testified to the clash.
True to his word, Mok Ri-won struck only non-vitals, dominating O Gang-ak.
Amid it, O Gang-ak cackled.
“Idiot.”
Mok Ri-won's face stiffened.
In that brief moment, even as his body was shredded, he glimpsed where O Gang-ak's gaze fell.
His own solar plexus.
Lowering his head, Mok Ri-won realized flames had leaped there, roaring fiercely.
Danger.
Judging thus, Mok Ri-won broke the form and retreated swiftly.
O Gang-ak staggered but laughed.
He seemed oblivious to his flayed flesh.
“Arrogant fool thinking you're hot shit. That's why you fall.”
He clapped his palms together.
“You and that guy both.”
The flames on Mok Ri-won's solar plexus whooshed across his body.
Then exploded.
Boom!
Red Flame Demonic Art, Fifth Form: Flame Demon Ghost.