The Fire Spirit Sword
Whoosh!
Crash!
"Fast…"
Watching Do-ha slip past his attack, Fallen muttered the words in a slow, almost lazy drawl.
He had struck without any preparatory motion, yet Do-ha had already shifted sideways in the blink of an eye.
Whoosh!
Thud!
"That hurts…"
Do-ha’s strike sheared half of Fallen’s right ear clean off. The man’s expression never changed as he whipped his sword around with startling speed.
Clang-clang-clang.
Does he not feel pain?
Wounds already covered his body, yet he showed no real reaction. Fighting him felt exactly like trading blows with a doll.
His movements alone are interesting, though.
Do-ha narrowed his eyes as he studied Fallen’s footwork. It was neither the sword techniques of Moorim martial artists nor the formal swordsmanship of knights—just wild, indiscriminate swings. Every attack seemed designed to land a single lucky hit.
At first glance it looks completely reckless.
Yet a clear pattern ran through the chaos. To an ordinary observer it might have looked like the crude flailing of a third-class martial artist, but once their blades crossed the difference became unmistakable.
Whirl!
Screech!
Fallen spun his body and sword qi exploded outward in every direction. He looked like a top studded with blades.
"What an absurd way to attack."
Swoosh.
Zaaang!
Slow.
Kiiing.
The figure that had been spinning too fast to see gradually began to slow.
"This is frustrating…"
As his movements lagged, Fallen let out a shallow sigh.
Grrrk!
Bang!
He broke free of the Slow magic pressing down on his body with raw force.
Fallen unleashed his energy and flung his arms wide; the Slow spell shattered completely.
Whirl.
Clack!
Taiji Wisdom Sword, Second Form: Correct Measure Emerges.
Whirl!
Do-ha spun with fluid grace and extended his blade, snatching Fallen’s sword clean out of his grip. The technique bordered on divine skill. Instead of aiming for the hand, he had lightly sliced the hilt itself, thinning it until the weapon simply slipped free.
"I dropped it…"
Fallen stared blankly at the sword that had flown far away. In that instant the grip he held had grown thin and the blade had left his fingers.
"You… are strange."
"Got anything else? It was fun at first, but now it’s just getting boring."
Do-ha dug a finger in his ear, looking thoroughly unimpressed. The bishop’s attacks had been fresh and interesting at the start, but after a few exchanges the openings were obvious and the holes in his defense too many. Fighting a Super-Peak martial artist would probably be more entertaining.
"I’ll show you something strange too…"
Thud.
Still expressionless, Fallen stacked his hands one over the other in a posture that almost resembled a martial salute.
Whoosh!
Hissssss.
When he opened his hands, a sword of pure flame began to take shape.
?!
Do-ha’s eyes widened. Dense demonic energy radiated from the blade of fire. He knew that weapon well—it belonged to a demon.
"The Fire Spirit Sword… You’re Baal’s contractor?"
Baal, Archduke and Rank 1 of Hell. Called the Great Master of the Sword or the Lord of Flame, he stood as the strongest being in the Demon Realm short of the Demon God and the Demon Kings. One of the reasons Do-ha had failed to kill the Demon God in the past was Baal himself. While the other Demon Kings raced to the battlefield, Baal had pinned Do-ha down with pure defense, buying precious time. Do-ha had been stronger then, yet Baal had refused every opening and simply held on until reinforcements arrived. The resulting battle drained Do-ha’s stamina and power to dangerous levels. That was how formidable the demon was. Even Asmodeus, the seventh-ranked Demon King of Lust, avoided Baal for fear of losing his throne.
"But something’s off. You’re far too weak for a contractor of Baal."
Even after receiving Baal’s power through baptism, Fallen was pitifully weak. More importantly, he had never once used the swordsmanship of the Great Master of the Sword. Everything he had shown so far was nothing like Baal’s style—at best he could call up a fraction of Baal’s flames.
"Strange, isn’t it…? This is a sword we obtained…"
Obtained?
Do-ha frowned as Fallen spun in place like an excited child. The wording was wrong. Not “received,” not “learned”—“obtained.” It sounded as if the sword had been taken without its owner’s consent.
"Well, at least now I understand why you’re so broken."
Only Baal could wield the Fire Spirit Sword. It was a demonic blade. When a human used it, the sword gradually destroyed the mind. It was no Ego Sword with a true will of its own, yet the energy it carried seeped into the body all the same.
That explains the slurred speech and the doll-like inability to feel pain.
Fallen had probably held the sword for months already. In that time its energy had burrowed deep into his flesh.
Flash!
"When I move this, fire comes out too."
Whoosh.
ROOOOAR!
Smiling faintly, Fallen swung the blade once. A colossal wave of flame split the cult building and the ground itself.
That’s definitely Baal’s Fire Spirit Sword.
Do-ha dodged the flames and drew up his energy.
Wuum!
Baek-bo Myeol-hwang Gong, Fourth Step: Extreme Thunder Fist.
Flash!
CRACKLE-CRACKLE!
BOOM!
Fallen blocked Do-ha’s fist with the Fire Spirit Sword and was hurled far away.
I can’t drag this out.
He needed to end it quickly. Judging by Fallen’s speech and condition, the man was already near his limit. If the Fire Spirit Sword went berserk, the entire area would be reduced to ash.
"Come here."
Swoosh.
Talhon-heupseong-daebup.
SHWAAAAAK!
Do-ha stretched out his hand toward the place Fallen had landed. The bishop was yanked out of the rubble and dragged through the air.
Shuuu!
Whoosh.
The moment Fallen came within arm’s reach, Do-ha cut the technique short. He had not used it to absorb energy this time—only as a form of telekinetic pull, like the Void Grasp technique.
Wuum!
Baek-bo Myeol-hwang Gong, Second Step: Unbroken Kick.
Crunch!
"That hurts…"
Do-ha’s heel smashed into Fallen’s skull. Most people would have screamed; Fallen merely furrowed his brow.
Whoosh!
ROOOOAR!
Every time the bishop swung the sword, flames erupted in every direction.
Sizzle.
He’s getting faster.
Part of Do-ha’s clothes caught fire and he clicked his tongue. Of all things, a fire-spewing demonic blade had ended up in the hands of someone who attacked at random. The flames now sprayed without distinguishing friend from foe.
It’s a shame I won’t learn the locations of the other branches…
He would have to kill him. Once a human grasped the Fire Spirit Sword, they could never let go. Even if the arm were severed, the blade would fly back on its own, reattach, and force the body to keep fighting until it finally went berserk.
I planned to capture him and extract the other cult locations…
The Fire Spirit Sword had ruined that plan.
Saaaaah.
"That’s enough thrashing around."
Frost began to form in the air around Do-ha as he raised his energy.
Bingbaek-singong, Third Form: Thorn Flowers in Full Bloom.
Whoosh.
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
The moment the technique bloomed, the bishop’s body froze solid.
Thud-thud-thud.
Whoosh!
Do-ha charged. The ice shattered and Fallen’s sword came screaming forward the instant his body thawed.
Srrrk.
But Do-ha was a fraction faster.
Myeol-hwang Sword Technique, Second Form: Subjugation.
Thud!
Using the opponent’s own force against him, Do-ha’s blade punched straight through Fallen’s heart.
Drip. Drip.
"…Boring."
Swoosh.
ROOOOAR!
As the bishop died with a hole in his chest, flames erupted from the Fire Spirit Sword and devoured the corpse.
Every time I see it, that sword is grotesque.
It used its wielder, then reduced him to ash the moment he was no longer useful. How on earth had Baal ever controlled such a demonic blade?
Wuum. Wuum.
After consuming Fallen’s body completely, the demonic sword gave off an unreadable resonance and slowly faded from sight. Had it been satisfied by the meal?
Shwaak!
"It’s a relief the demonic sword is gone, but…"
Had it returned to Baal? At least it was no longer loose in the world.
"I should search the building. Even if his mind was gone, a bishop would have left some records."
At that exact moment—
BOOOOM!
The tall building where the bishop had stood exploded and vanished.
Shuuu.
Thud.
"?!"
"?"
Amid the blast, a figure with a covered face dropped from the sky and locked eyes with Do-ha.
"What now?"
"…Tsk. So there’s still one left."
Shing.
Flash!
"Where do you think you’re going!"
Returning Wind Palm.
Thud!
The moment the stranger thrust his sword, Do-ha knocked the blade aside and seized the man’s wrist.
"?!!"
Whirl!
The masked figure startled, then smoothly twisted the captured wrist free of Do-ha’s grip.
"Oh?"
Do-ha smiled as the man slipped away. He had reacted before Do-ha’s strength could fully settle into the hold.
"I don’t know who you are, but you’re more fun than the bishop."
Wuuuum!
Twenty-Four Hands Plum Blossom Sword Technique, Fourth Form: Plum Blossoms Open to Guide.
Shaaaaah.
Do-ha’s blade began to glow a soft pink as it moved with exquisite beauty.
"What is this…"
The stranger reeled in shock. How could sword qi flutter like falling flower petals?
"I can’t leave you alive!"
Sensing danger, the man drew up his energy.
Rumble!
Could he be an archbishop?
Do-ha’s eyes narrowed. The power rising from the stranger dwarfed anything the bishop had possessed.
Whoosh!
CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!
"?!!"
ROOOAR!
When the man swung his sword, the surrounding air was sucked along the path of the blade. If Do-ha had not opened distance, his body would have been pulled in as well.
"What kind of power is that?"
Whoosh.
Talhon-heupseong-daebup.
SHWAAAAAK!
Ziiing.
"Hah!"
Do-ha answered by drawing the air in with the same soul-absorbing art. The stranger gasped in horror. This time Do-ha’s sword was faster.
"Don’t just stand there spacing out."
Whoosh!
Flutter-flutter-flutter!
The pink plum-blossom petals that had soared into the sky rained down over the man’s head.
"Damn it!"
BOOM!
In the end he had no choice but to raise his sword and block the cascading petals.
"Hoo…"
"Who the hell are you? I expected you’d survive, but not a single scratch is a little surprising."
Do-ha tilted his head. Taking the Plum Blossoms Open to Guide head-on and walking away unharmed was unexpected.
Ziiing.
Thud.
"Huh…?"
The mask covering the stranger’s face split cleanly in half and fell away. Do-ha’s eyes went wide.
"…Henry?"
It was Henry—Cheonwaecheon, the number-one ranked Hunter in the world. Why was he here?
"Tsk. So my face is exposed after all."
Henry sighed. A few of the petals that had blanketed him moments earlier must have sliced the mask.
"Don’t tell me… you’re with the cult?"
"How dare you call me a cultist."
"Then New Age?"
"Ha. You talk as if you’re not part of New Age yourself. Trying to play mind games? Doesn’t matter. Whatever group you belong to, both the cult and New Age will die by my hand."
"…"
Thick killing intent rolled off Henry. Do-ha simply stared at him in silence. From the way he spoke and acted, Henry clearly hated both the cult and New Age.
"Looks like… we have a lot to talk about."
"Why would I talk with the likes of—"
Swoosh.
Do-ha pulled a black mask from his pocket, slipped it on, and let his bangs fall over his eyes.
"…Huh?"
Henry’s eyes widened.
"It’s been a while, Henry."
"A…?"
The moment Do-ha put on the black mask, Henry recognized him. At the dinner party some time ago, Do-ha had worn the same black mask and let his bangs hide as much of his face as possible.
"Why are you here…"
"To kill the cult and New Age, of course."
"You too?"
"See? I told you we had a lot to talk about."
Grinning, Do-ha removed the mask and gave a small nod. The cult branch was finished, most of the New Age members were dead, and the bishop was gone. There was no reason to linger.
"Shall we step outside and talk?"
Thud.
As Do-ha left the cult compound, Henry launched himself after him.