Chapter 551: Establishing the Hierarchy (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 551: Establishing the Hierarchy (3)
The feeling was mutual. Just as Park Min-woo disapproved of Wang Wiryong, Wang Wiryong harbored an equal distaste for the mage.
Arrogance aside, Wang Wiryong despised the secretive bond between Park Min-woo and Roman Dmitry.
'People revere the White-robed Mage as an apostle of justice. But from what I've seen, he's no different from a common street thug. The real problem is that a man with such a pathetic character shares secrets with His Majesty, Emperor Roman Dmitry. He knows everything—that I am a descendant of the Heavenly Demon Cult, and that His Majesty is its true master.'
It was infuriating.
He simply couldn't understand it.
The revelation that Roman Dmitry was the Heavenly Demon, Baek Joong-hyuk, was a truth that defied simple explanation. Yet, Park Min-woo acted as if he and the Emperor had shared a profound bond for lifetimes. If the mage was merely afraid of losing his political standing, Wang Wiryong would have understood. With the power structure already revolving around Roman Dmitry, an interloper like himself was bound to ruffle the feathers of the old guard.
But Park Min-woo was different.
This wasn't simple jealousy. It was a deep-seated wariness that could only come from someone who knew the absolute truth.
It was an obsession so extreme it crossed the line into raw murderous intent.
It was bizarre.
The sheer intensity of his yearning for Roman Dmitry revealed the true face hidden behind the White-robed Mage's mask.
Wang Wiryong spoke.
"If you were just another fool lusting after power, I wouldn't have cared about your arrogant barking. But Park Min-woo, your mistake is constantly flaunting your relationship with His Majesty, Emperor Roman Dmitry. Instead of focusing on the hierarchy of strength, you have this pathetic need to prove who is closer to him."
He turned around.
Even as he spoke, he walked away from Park Min-woo, who was glaring at him with undisguised bloodlust.
"No matter what secrets you hold, they cannot run deeper than the bond between His Majesty and me, forged through the Heavenly Demon Cult. And there is something you need to keep in mind. In the Heavenly Demon Cult, a ranking battle is a Life-and-Death Duel. We stake our very lives against each other. It isn't a place to merely debate who is stronger or weaker; it means you could lose your life in the process. Are you prepared to bear the consequences?"
"Isn't that obvious?"
"Then so be it."
Wang Wiryong halted.
Turning around, he looked at Park Min-woo, who now stood quite a distance away.
"They say mages are weak in close combat. I will grant you enough space to display your full capabilities. So..."
Shring.
He drew his sword.
A fierce aura, unlike anything he had shown before, erupted from Wang Wiryong's body.
"Give it your all from now on."
Flash.
Rumble!
* * *
It was a blatant contradiction.
Wang Wiryong had promised to give him space, but to a master of his caliber, a distance of dozens of paces meant absolutely nothing.
Swish, swish, swish!
Rumble!
He tore through the space.
In a single breath, the distance between them vanished. Wang Wiryong materialized right in front of the mage, radiating a suffocating murderous intent.
Flash.
His sword slashed through the air.
But the moment the blade cleaved through Park Min-woo's body, the mage's form dissipated like a mirage.
"How dare you worry about me," Park Min-woo's voice echoed. "Even if the battle takes place right under my nose, someone like you is no match for me. Explosion."
Boom!
Whoosh!
Intense flames erupted.
Park Min-woo was already hovering in the air, wings fluttering at his back, while Wang Wiryong hastily deployed a Sword Barrier to block the raging inferno. But that was only the beginning. Park Min-woo's upper Dantian greedily absorbed the violent flow of mana, and he began spewing spells at a speed unimaginable for ordinary mages.
"Explosion, Explosion, Explosion!"
Bang, bang, bang!
Boom, boom, boom!
A relentless chain of detonations. Magic erupted in a frantic frenzy.
A heat intense enough to melt skin surged upward, and a thick cloud of dust swallowed Wang Wiryong entirely.
In that instant, Park Min-woo raised a finger.
A massive barrier formed, but at the exact same moment, Wang Wiryong burst through the dust cloud and swung his blade.
Flash.
Crash!
The multiple Explosions hadn't worked at all.
Wang Wiryong, his face completely unblemished by soot, sliced right through the shimmering wall of mana. It was a terrifying display, proving how easily the highest-tier defensive magic, Great Shield, could be shattered in a single blow. Yet, there was no wavering in Park Min-woo's eyes. If his opponent was a descendant of the Heavenly Demon Cult, even one who hadn't inherited the true legacy, this much was to be expected.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
His body dispersed.
He split into dozens of Park Min-woos, all unleashing magic simultaneously.
"Chain Lightning."
"Chain Lightning."
"Chain Lightning."
Crackle!
From all directions, crackling whips of electricity lashed out.
They were not illusions. Every single spell was real.
Against the fierce, raining attacks, Wang Wiryong plunged straight into the flashing web of lightning.
Even in the midst of the chaos, he read the truth of the battlefield.
He saw through the trick—even if one person could cast multiple spells simultaneously, there was only one true caster.
'Heavenly Demon Sword Technique.'
Flash.
A single strike.
The moment the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique cleaved through the space...
Boom, boom, boom!
The very atmosphere was torn apart.
All the magic dissipated in an instant, and Park Min-woo was swept away by the shockwave.
"Ugh."
Park Min-woo grimaced.
His opponent was strong.
Although this Heavenly Demon Sword Technique was a mere imitation, its destructive power far exceeded expectations. Even as Park Min-woo lost his wings and plummeted toward the ground, he continued casting magic to bombard Wang Wiryong.
Bang, bang, bang!
Deafening explosions blasted all over Wang Wiryong's body. It was an onslaught that even most S-rank Hunters couldn't withstand, but Wang Wiryong wildly circulated his mana, firmly protecting his body.
He didn't care. He knew a few blasts wouldn't bring him down.
As Wang Wiryong closed the distance from the air, Park Min-woo vanished, reappearing in an entirely different spot.
"Blink."
Spatial teleportation magic.
Park Min-woo's eyes dyed blood-red.
"Hellfire."
Whoosh.
Roar!
He summoned the flames of hell.
Casting Blink repeatedly, Park Min-woo flickered from location to location, unleashing torrents of powerful magic that swept over Wang Wiryong. Even for the world's greatest swordsman, now landed on the ground, he couldn't afford to let his guard down. The heat was immense, capable of scorching his very lungs. Wang Wiryong tightly shielded his body, violently exploding the magic power from his Dantian to push back the flames.
Rumble!
Park Min-woo's presence dominated the battlefield.
Truth and falsehood intertwined.
He drove Wang Wiryong into a corner with his dazzling, unpredictable displays, but such tricks couldn't break the swordsman.
Wang Wiryong was the best in the world.
If not for Roman Dmitry, he would have been universally recognized as the absolute strongest.
'I will defeat the White-robed Mage and be recognized as the true descendant of the Heavenly Demon Cult.'
A momentary silence fell.
Wang Wiryong's gaze locked onto Park Min-woo with absolute precision.
Then, mirroring the posture depicted in the ancient mural, he thrust his sword toward his sole enemy.
'Heavenly Demon Sword Technique.'
Flash.
Boom, boom, boom!
A single strike.
The sheer effort and enlightenment gleaned from the mural tore the entire space before him to shreds.
* * *
Drip, drip.
Blood dripped down Park Min-woo's face.
He had barely managed to evade the attack that shredded his surroundings, but he couldn't stop a gash from being torn open just above his eyebrow.
"You're pretty good," he smirked.
He watched Wang Wiryong approaching from a distance.
Despite being pushed to the brink by an endless barrage of magic, the swordsman looked completely fine, as if he had just been out for a stroll.
He was undeniably strong.
It made perfect sense why Wang Wiryong was hailed as the world's greatest swordsman, and how he had unified the massive nation of China all by himself.
Although he had only grasped the surface of the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique, Wang Wiryong had built his own martial world, reaching a formidable realm that couldn't be handled with half-hearted measures.
This was exactly why Park Min-woo had hated the idea of fighting in public.
He knew that with pure magic alone—specifically, magic that excluded black magic—it would not be an easy fight.
That was why he had lured the swordsman into an isolated space.
Here, away from the prying eyes of the world, Park Min-woo had no hesitation in revealing his true colors.
He swept his blood-matted hair back.
He didn't care about the mess, a fierce smile stretching across his face.
"Wang Wiryong. When I win here today, as the second-in-command, I intend to give you—who are nothing but the third-in-command—a single order."
Rumble.
Rumble!
His eyes dyed pitch-black.
Dark red magic power billowed upward, staining the surroundings with an oppressive darkness.
"An order to keep everything you see and hear from this moment on a secret from the world. You will obey my command. Dark Field."
Sinking into the shadows, Park Min-woo submerged into the darkness.
The ranking battle was only just beginning.
* * *
"Dark Gate."
Rumble.
Rumble!
The darkness surged.
A massive gate tore open, and the undead who obeyed Park Min-woo's will began to pour out.
At first, they numbered in the dozens, then hundreds, then thousands, rapidly filling every inch of visible space.
One against many?
He felt no shame in the numbers advantage.
This was his own absolute authority.
Just as Wang Wiryong wielded the destructive Heavenly Demon Sword Technique—an art notoriously difficult to counter with magic—Park Min-woo had developed his own overwhelming strengths. As Alexander, a mage who had once hit an insurmountable wall, he knew better than anyone how a mage should crush a swordsman.
Screeech!
Shriek!
The undead lunged forward.
Seeing the rotting horde swarming from all directions, Wang Wiryong didn't hesitate. He charged straight into them.
Swish, swish!
Slash!
Wang Wiryong was not intimidated in the slightest by the hellish scene before him.
With every swing of his sword, dozens of undead were torn apart. His fierce momentum made it clear he intended to cut down every single enemy in sight. A one-sided slaughter ensued. Like a wolf roaming among a flock of sheep, Wang Wiryong pushed forward with savage violence. He was different from ordinary men. Having unified China from the very bottom, he was born with the heart of a beast. No matter how disadvantageous the situation, he never felt fear.
He believed in himself.
He believed he would win.
But as he pushed forward fiercely, a sudden, powerful onslaught from all directions forced him to pull his sword back to defend.
Clang!
Clash, clash, clash!
Zahar and Gott.
They were S-rank undead.
They pressed Wang Wiryong hard. After blocking their heavy strikes one by one, he attempted to slice through them both in a single, sweeping blow.
However—
Clang!
A surprise attack.
Zahar parried the blade, perfectly defending his neck.
It was a strike so fast that even actual S-rank Hunters would have failed to track it, yet Zahar's hollow gaze accurately saw through Wang Wiryong's swordsmanship. This wasn't the undead's skill—it was entirely Park Min-woo's ability. Park Min-woo was directly controlling the movements of Zahar and Gott. While perfectly blocking Wang Wiryong's attacks, he simultaneously cast magic using his monstrous multitasking ability.
"Dark Lightning."
Flash.
Crackle!
Black lightning erupted.
As the bolts struck down from the sky, Wang Wiryong deployed his Sword Barrier. The moment he did, Zahar and Gott mercilessly exploited the opening.
[Strong Strike]
Boom!
Rumble!
Wang Wiryong's body shook violently.
His face contorted into a grimace.
The seamless combination of Park Min-woo's magic and the S-rank undead's coordinated attacks was proving incredibly difficult to handle.
Though surprised that Park Min-woo had hidden such dark power, Wang Wiryong countered all the attacks, his competitive spirit burning fiercer than ever. Park Min-woo was a man of many secrets—a sinister figure who, despite being revered as the White-robed Mage, had secretly mastered black magic in the shadows. Wang Wiryong had absolutely no desire to let such a treacherous snake remain by Roman Dmitry's side.
However, the flow of battle took a strange turn.
He had assumed shaking off two S-rank undead would be easy, but he was gradually being pushed back by their flawless coordination.
Boom!
Gott's attack slammed into him.
As Wang Wiryong blocked it and shifted to counterattack, Zahar seized the split-second opportunity, bringing his heavy sword down from above. It was a strike that would deal a fatal wound if left undefended. And whenever Wang Wiryong was forced to pull back his sword to take a defensive stance, Park Min-woo unleashed a devastating barrage of magic, as if he had been waiting for that exact moment.
Boom, boom, boom!
Following the blasts, Zahar and Gott tore through the smoke, bursting through the explosions to press the assault.
The moment Wang Wiryong unleashed the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique to cut them down, they countered his strike with an uncanny, flawless defense.
Goosebumps erupted across Wang Wiryong's skin.
Only then did he realize the terrifying truth.
Park Min-woo.
He was no mere mage.
Not only did he perfectly control the undead with a profound, master-level knowledge of swordsmanship, but it was as if he knew exactly how the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique would manifest before the blade even moved. It was a reality Wang Wiryong could not accept. It felt as though Park Min-woo understood the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique more perfectly than he did—he, the one who had inherited the legacy of the mural as a true descendant of the Heavenly Demon Cult.
What Wang Wiryong didn't know was the truth of his opponent's soul.
Park Min-woo was Alexander, and he was Kim Pan-seok.
As Alexander, he had faced Roman Dmitry in his past life. He had experienced the authentic Heavenly Demon Sword Technique firsthand, and his soul had always yearned for Roman Dmitry's absolute presence. That obsession hadn't changed in his new life. Recalling his final moments with Roman Dmitry countless times, Alexander had envisioned the Emperor whenever he trained against an imaginary opponent. While Wang Wiryong had only learned through a static mural passed down through generations, Alexander had crossed blades with the true Heavenly Demon.
To a monster like that, Wang Wiryong was not an insurmountable wall.
If not for Roman Dmitry, Wang Wiryong was merely a stepping stone destined to be devoured by him in the end.
Boom!
Rumble!
Zahar and Gott's combined attacks struck hard.
Wang Wiryong, who found himself pushed back even after using the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique, suddenly witnessed a colossal surge of magic power—an overwhelming force unlike anything he had ever experienced in his life.
"This is the end. Fury of the Heaven."
Flash.
Rumble!
Thousands of lightning bolts descended.
By the time Wang Wiryong hurriedly raised his sword, a tempest of magic power far beyond his capacity to handle completely swallowed his body.
Boom!
Boom, boom, boom!
Crash, crash, crash!
* * *
Thud.
Fssss.
Wang Wiryong fell to his knees.
He wasn't dead.
However, he had been forced to pour out every last drop of his strength just to survive. He hung his head, his expression strained and exhausted.
"Ugh."
He retched, his body pushed past its absolute limit. Since awakening the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique, he had never tasted such a crushing sense of defeat.
Then, he heard it. The sound of footsteps approaching. Wang Wiryong forced his heavy head up with immense difficulty.
Even in defeat, he refused to look pathetic.
Lifting his gaze, he saw Park Min-woo looking down at him with a cold smirk.
"In the world I used to live in, there were always many who constantly coveted my position," Park Min-woo said softly. "And among them, excluding His Majesty, Emperor Roman Dmitry, I have never lost even once. Wang Wiryong, your defeat is nothing to be ashamed of. It's just that because you happened to face me, you had no choice but to lose. So keep this in mind. The next time you look up at me, if you have those same eyes..."
He smirked, his lips twitching as he delivered the final, merciless blow.
"I will gouge them out and establish the true hierarchy of the Heavenly Demon Cult."
The First War of the Second-in-Commands.
The result was Park Min-woo's absolute victory.