Chapter 0
Chapter 0
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 0
Chapter Title: Prologue. Heavenly Demon Sword
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BOOM...!
Hundreds of martial artists filled the space, clashing fiercely against one another.
Swords met swords, and the collision of their energies tore the air apart before stitching it back together.
The hundreds of martial artists who had packed the space vanished in an instant, like smoke scattering in the wind, leaving only two warriors facing each other with blades drawn.
Their forms transformed into twin dragons accompanied by gales, soaring into the sky.
A pure, clear energy intertwined with one darker than pitch black, like two dragons battling over a mystical orb.
BOOM...!
Lightning flashed between the dragons, and the energy blacker than night lost its power, dissipating into nothing.
Drip... Drip...
The scattering dragons rained down blood, severed arms and legs dropping from torsos to smash into the ground.
Splat...!
The warrior who had lost limb after limb plummeted like a ragged doll.
Cough...!
Blood sprayed from the mouth of the fallen warrior sprawled on the earth.
Kukuku...
"Kill me, Han Gwang Ri."
The warrior spewing blood glared up at the man standing before him and sneered.
The warrior looked down at the limbless man, then picked up a severed arm lying nearby.
He wasn't unscathed himself—blood poured from his body with every movement.
He pried the sword from the severed hand's grip, then unfastened the sheath from the man's bloodied waist.
"I'll be taking this sword."
At his words, the man awaiting death trembled violently.
"Planning to use that sword... to become the Demonic Cult Leader?"
Even in the face of death, he remained composed, though his attachment to the blade lingered.
"It was originally Father-in-Law's sword, so it should be mine, don't you think?"
"Don't you have... another sword of your own?"
As he said, the warrior who had claimed the sword already possessed another of similar shape.
The difference was that it was about half an inch narrower, and its hilt was wrapped in white silk.
"Do you think a traitor who slew his father-in-law deserves to wield this blade?"
"From the beginning... the Leader's seat was mine. If you hadn't shown up, I would have rightfully inherited it."
The warrior cut him off coldly.
"Don't make me laugh, Hyeokryeon Mu. My wife never had any interest in you."
Ugh...
A groan escaped the lips of the man reduced to a ragged doll.
It was impossible to tell if it came from rage or the agony of his severed limbs.
The warrior looked down at the groaning man and continued.
"Without this sword, the Demonic Cult has no leader now. Thanks to you, it'll meet its end."
The limbless man's eyes gleamed with venomous light.
Kukuku...
"How ruthless, Han Gwang Ri. But things won't go as you wish."
The warrior gazed down at the man laughing in agony.
"I sincerely hope you survive and spend the rest of your days in hell."
With that, he turned away coldly.
Uwaaaah...!
The limbless man's furious roar echoed from behind.
He could have died right there.
But if his subordinates rushed him to a physician, he might survive.
Sensing faint presences approaching, the warrior nodded faintly.
His men had arrived. The man's remaining life would now be hell.
A middle-aged Taoist who had watched the scene from afar hurried over.
"Why didn't you finish off the Cult Leader?"
"With his limbs gone, he's done as a martial artist. Even if he clings to life by a thread, the rest will be spent in torment."
At his words, the Taoist's face brightened instantly.
Over the past four years, countless masters of the martial world had fallen to the Cult Leader's sword.
Now, crippled for life, he would live in pain and resentment—fitting karma indeed.
"Thank you. Truly, thank you. You are the hero who saved the martial world."
The Taoist praised him effusively, but the warrior's expression remained grave.
"One more request: remember that it was you, not me, who did this to the Leader."
The Taoist still couldn't accept it.
He had defeated the Demonic Cult Leader, known as the Martial God. The martial world would hail him as the supreme under heaven.
In the world of martial arts, skill and fame meant power and authority.
But he sought none of it.
"Why go this far?"
"Do I need to spell it out? If word gets out that I slew the Demonic Cult Leader, every time there's trouble, martial artists will come knocking. I hate hassle, so make it your deed."
That wasn't the only reason.
His sect's founding master had left a legacy forbidding disciples from chasing fame and power in the martial world.
The Taoist nodded reluctantly.
"Very well. But I have a favor to ask. Lend me the Leader's sword for a while. The people's morale is too low; I want to use it to rally them."
At his plea, the warrior nodded readily.
Lending it briefly to boost morale seemed fine.
As he offered the sword, the Taoist accepted it with trembling hands.
This was no mere hunk of metal for killing.
It was the symbol of the one who had massacred the martial world and spread terror.
Shing...
A chilling metallic ring accompanied the revelation of the crimson blade.
Its tip was sharp enough to pierce rock, its edge keen enough to slice iron.
A flicker of greed flashed in the Taoist's eyes before vanishing.
The warrior before him wore two swords at his waist.
The one with the red hilt was a peerless famed blade, but the white-hilted one had never been drawn before, its quality unknown.
In today's battle with the Leader, he had used the white-hilted sword for the first time, but from afar, the blade itself couldn't be seen clearly.
No matter how famed the red and white swords were, they couldn't surpass this one.
"What should we call this sword?"
His voice came out thick, as if choked with phlegm.
The warrior knew exactly what this sword was.
No one without this sword could claim the Demonic Cult Leader's seat, and no one unable to bear its weight could sit upon it.
Heavenly Demon's personal sword.
The founding Heavenly Demon of the Demonic Cult had wielded two blades; this was the one he always carried at his waist.
One night, the demons saw him cleaving the moon with both swords.
Afterward, the sword he always wore was named the Heavenly Demon Sword, and the other became known as Corpse Moon.
But he did not reveal this.
"It was the Demonic Cult Leader's sword, so calling it the Demon Lord's Sword would be fitting, no?"
Thud.
"Well said."
The Taoist clapped his knee in delight at the suggestion.
"My business here is done. The rest is yours."
As the warrior handed over the sword and turned to leave, the Taoist panicked.
"What do you mean? Didn't you promise to stay until the Demonic Cult retreats?"
The warrior gave a faint smile.
"Of course I will. But from here on, it's in your hands. Please drive back the Demonic Cult and become the hero of the martial world."