Black Path Saint, Black Flame Dragon (5)
A term commonly used to refer to the martial arts practiced by the Demonic Cult's members. However, the Murim Alliance defines it more broadly: any power that twists the natural order and deviates from truth, any force that defies laws and common sense. This classification stems from the "Orthodox Division" implemented five hundred years ago upon the Alliance's founding.
For the past five centuries, the Murim Alliance has eradicated all martial arts deviating from this "Orthodox Division," safeguarding the peace of the martial world. As a result, few in the current era knew the types or characteristics of Demonic Arts, and no one witnessing Deung Go-hyeon's state associated it with such forbidden techniques.
"L-Lord! A-Are you alright?!"
The Jeondeungmun disciples were stunned. Though thrilled that he'd cut down the Dok-a Sect members in a single stroke, he'd also slashed those who'd blocked him—his own fellow Jeondeungmun disciples. They called out cautiously to Deung Go-hyeon, but he ignored them completely, charging straight at the Dok-a Sect members.
Shwaaak!
It was only natural to raise a weapon against an armed foe. But when desperate defenses proved utterly futile, it was enough to numb people's reason.
Shwaaak!
"Grrrk!"
Another Dok-a Sect disciple, defending with his sword, had his blade and neck severed together, spewing a fountain of blood. Streams of crimson began trickling across the Dok-a Sect's courtyard like tiny rivers.
The Dok-a Sect members retreated frantically. Each time, Deung Go-hyeon pursued, slicing throats and tearing bodies apart. His divine might resembled not a warrior, but a ravenous demon.
"L-Lord... I-I think that's enough."
A disciple finally spoke up, unable to watch any longer, but Deung Go-hyeon didn't even pretend to hear. Then, as three Jeondeungmun disciples rushed from behind to subdue him—
Flash.
Deung Go-hyeon turned his pitch-black eyes on his juniors, swinging his blade impassively.
"Kuhk!"
"Grrrk!"
One lost his head; two had arms and legs hacked off. The horrific sequence left both Dok-a Sect and Jeondeungmun disciples too dazed to react.
"W-What the hell is this madman?!"
"H-He attacked our own...!"
"R-Run!"
Even the fearless Black Path warriors trembled in terror at Deung Go-hyeon. Licking blood from his lips, he roared,
"Jeondeungmun is eternal!!!"
His bulging eyes fixed on Dok-a Geom as he charged again.
Grind.
Dok-a Geom ground his teeth to splinters, mustering all his strength to face him.
"You think you can escape?!"
Clang!
But Dok-a Geom's sword-aura-infused weapon shattered, and as his own eyes bulged like Deung Go-hyeon's—
Thud—
I swiftly kicked him away.
"Wha—Guhk...!!"
Boom!
Dok-a Geom flew, snapping one of the hall's pillars.
"That's me saving your life once."
"...F-Fuck..."
True to Black Path form, he expressed gratitude with curses. Ignoring him, I examined Deung Go-hyeon closely.
His flushed-red face, white breath heaving with every exhale—classic symptoms of the Pogeukdan. But then it diverged.
Obsidian eyes with no whites. A bizarre energy that cleaved sword auras despite lacking sword force. Endless qi emissions without the depletion of innate essence—as if drawing power from some unknown source.
And above all, skin-prickling malice and thick demonic energy that stung the eyes just to behold.
I asked him directly.
"You... cultivated Demonic Arts?"
His gaze shifted from Dok-a Geom to me.
"You... What are you? An interloper?"
"I asked if you cultivated Demonic Arts."
"Planning to sabotage Jeondeungmun?!"
Saliva drooling like a beast, he bellowed deafeningly.
"I'll kill you! Anyone hindering Jeondeungmun dies!"
No reasoning with him. I sent intent to summon the Tae-eul Divine Scripture. Inner energy surged through meridians into the three pulses, empowering me.
Stepping the Tae-eul Paeman Sinbo, I left two afterimages and flanked him.
"Hey, over here."
As he whirled in shock, I kicked his head, sending him flying three zhang away.
Boom boom!
He crashed through a massive wooden pillar thick enough for two men to embrace.
Drip, drip.
Yet he sprang up unscathed. The difference now?
"Kill... Kill..."
He snarled like a beast, reason lost.
Roar!
With a feral bellow, he kicked off the ground, arrowing toward me.
Shwick—Shwick—Shwick—
I dodged his blade by a hair's breadth in the blink of an eye. Stray hair and robe hem were inevitably sliced.
This was the expensive outfit that sly fox sold me.
Damn bastard.
"Snap out of it, you little shit!"
I clenched my fist and smashed his jaw to pieces.
His body lifted two zhang, neck snapping back—then he flipped midair, landing steadily.
Thud.
Deung Go-hyeon spat a bowlful of blood, hurled aside his precious blade like trash, and began crawling on all fours, scanning the surroundings.
"Grrr."
Snarling like a rabid dog, he twisted toward the Dok-a Sect disciples and pounced.
"Argh!"
A Dok-a Sect member died instantly, nape torn out in a chunk. Deung Go-hyeon discarded the corpse and lunged for the next.
"C-Crazy! What the hell?!"
"R-Run!"
Watching the madness, I couldn't relax my frown. The aura screamed Demonic Arts, yet his actions diverged sharply from a true demon's.
Demons craved slaughter but never lost reason so easily. If anything, their cold clarity made killing effortless.
From that perspective...
Something's off.
His pure-murder frenzy, devoid of purpose, felt alien. And a self-proclaimed elite of Cheongsung's lay disciples cultivating Demonic Arts? Hard to swallow.
Why reveal a secret Demonic Art that even Baek Do-in hid carefully?
I wield bizarre powers via the Azure Dragon Ring, but never flaunt them. Do so, and I'd be branded a public enemy, doomed to death.
Intentionally or not, this blatant exposure wasn't his choice.
What am I missing?
As I pondered, Dok-a Geom leaped up, thrusting at Deung Go-hyeon.
"Damn you, Deung Go-hyeon! What the hell is this?!"
"Raaargh!"
Blade piercing his hand, Deung Go-hyeon still lunged to bite Dok-a Geom's nape. Blue veins bulged on Dok-a Geom's flushed face.
Signs of Pogeukdan overload...
Aha!
It hit me: everyone from Dok-a Sect and Jeondeungmun had ingested Pogeukdan, starting with Dok-a Geom.
Did the Pogeukdan act as a trigger?
I summoned Jade Pure Heavenly Star Force, firing the Flying Dragon Claw.
"S-Save me!!!"
Just before Deung Go-hyeon bit Dok-a Geom's neck, the chain coiled around his throat, yanking him back bodily.
But—
Kyaaat!
Mid-pull, he righted himself and charged. I drew the Cheokgwanggeom, channeling Jade Pure Heavenly Star Force into sword force.
Shwaak—
The crimson blade traced a glowing arc, but he twisted unnaturally, evading.
He dodged that?
Retrieving the sword, I unleashed Socheon Sword Technique again.
Crack, crunch.
Bones grinding in his legs, he shot forward like a cannonball.
"Insane!"
Bang!
No form, just raw body-slam from Deung Go-hyeon. I blocked with the Po-sik Armor, but shock rippled through the rest.
The impact launched me airborne backward.
Thud!
Crashing into a pillar, I tried rising swiftly—but he was already upon me.
"Kill! Kill! All enemies of Jeondeungmun die!"
I shook out Cartoon Invincible Fist to repel him, but ignoring all pain, he pressed on—jaw shattered, nose pulped.
This fucker!
Not true Demonic Arts, yet demonic tenacity. The nightmare etched in terror across countless souls—exactly like those from my past life.
Grind.
Memories surged; teeth clenched.
"Hey."
"Grrr! Kill! Kill!"
"You picked the wrong guy. If I were a demon, you'd be the one shaking."
If he ignored pain, so would I. As he lunged to bite my nape, I rammed my fist into his maw.
Crunch.
Agony seared from teeth embedding in my knuckles, but I shoved deeper.
"Eat this too!"
I ignited Sacred Fire Demon-Exterminating Hand. Numb to pain, his eyes bulged.
Kyaaaak!
Jaw unhinged, teeth flying—he flailed solely to dislodge my hand. I kicked him away, grabbed nearby stones, and approached.
Brain fried by the flames in his mouth, he shoveled sand to extinguish them. As he finally coughed out the fire—
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
I bashed his skull relentlessly. His struggles slowed.
Breath rattling on the brink—
"Not dead yet."
I pressed my palm to his crown, infusing Jade Pure Heavenly Star Force. His near-corpse convulsed anew.
Moments later, reason and senses returned—he screamed in agony.
"Guhk! Guhk! Guhk! S-Spare... me..."
Throat charred by the flames, he could barely breathe. Grabbing his hair, I demanded,
"Where'd you get the Demonic Arts?"
"...S-Spare..."
I slapped his cheek and repeated,
"Demonic Arts! Where'd you get them?!"
"D-Demonic... Arts...?"
"Yes, the heaven-defying art you cultivated. Where from?!"
"N-No... I-I got a divine art..."
Deung Go-hyeon's skill was barely first-rate—Alliance deputy lord level at best. Him wielding a "divine art"?
"Who...? Who taught you that martial art?"
"..."
Light faded from his eyes. I poured in more force. But—
"J-Jeondeungmun... eternal..."
His gaze extinguished completely.
Dok-a Geom's heart wouldn't stop racing. The Jamhyeoldan had neutralized the Pogeukdan's effects. Yet the pounding persisted—not from drugs, but the primal terror of staring death in the face.
What... what the hell was that...?
He'd survived decades in the brutal Black Path world, but never felt true fear like this.
He was definitely... dead.
Especially that moment Deung Go-hyeon lunged with blood-filled fangs for his nape. Even recalling it drained all strength from his body.
Dok-a Geom turned to Deung Go-hyeon. The Black Flame Dragon gripped his collar, interrogating him.
The reckless madman he'd dismissed had saved his life—against a nightmare beyond imagination.
Without the Black Flame Dragon's arrival, he and all Dok-a Sect would be buried here.
No way... Could it be...?
A thought struck. Perhaps the Black Flame Dragon came for the Black Path faction's welfare?
A strange hope bloomed. As a Baekdo affiliate, he couldn't visit openly as a friend—so reconnaissance under the Black Path pretext of extortion?
What other reason for risking himself for strangers like Dok-a Sect?
Rumors of legendary Black Path masters crafting a transcendent being to counter Yong So-a's future dominance suddenly fit perfectly.
Aah...!
Suddenly, the Black Flame Dragon's "friend" title felt profoundly special. He'd implied it subtly: I'm one of you Black Path folk.
As expected... the Black Path's saint.
Gazing up in admiration—
The Black Flame Dragon rose, flicking blood from his hands. He called,
"Dok-a Geom."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
Realizing his Black Path overlord status, honorifics flowed naturally.
"Do you know where Jeondeungmun is?"
"Why... do you ask?"
The Black Flame Dragon ground his teeth like he'd met a blood-sworn foe.
"Guide me. I have business there."
"..."
That endless hatred toward Baekdo—pure, fundamental rage only true Black Path essence could birth.
He really is...
"What? Not guiding me?"
"Y-Yes, sir! Understood. This way!"
Now, Dok-a Geom harbored no doubt: the Black Flame Dragon was the Black Path saint.