Chapter 129
Chapter 129
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: Cutting the Demonic Threads
-----------------------------------------------------------------
He tried not to move.
He wanted to simply watch the situation unfold.
Deep down, he yearned to leave his subordinates behind and roam Demonus alone.
But one indelible phrase held Yong-un's ankle fast.
You will lose everything. Give up one precious thing.
For a voice to linger in his mind this long was something he'd never experienced, not even in his long life.
That made him all the more anxious.
New things always bring novelty—and unease in their wake.
He could no longer afford to stay still.
It felt better than fretting over what hadn't happened yet.
Without clashing, nothing would occur.
He'd just gnaw at himself with anxiety and fear.
'I will clash.'
And he would shatter it.
No matter what came. No matter what happened.
He would handle things his way, just as he always had.
Even if those words from the presence in his mind proved true.
Craaaack! Chaaang!
The sound of shattering glass echoed from the sky.
The snowflakes that had filled Yong-un with unease finally stopped falling.
"So that's what it was."
The special inner energy unique to Yong-un, one he'd held back for potential emergencies.
He drew forth the purple aura.
The pinnacle of the nameless manual he'd acquired in Ma Hyeon-dong, the very foundation of who he was now.
It transformed Yong-un's entire field of vision as he surveyed the distant battlefield.
Suddenly, things invisible before came into view.
"So that's it."
A dark gray barrier enveloping the entire San Marino Demonus region.
Countless dark gray threads rooted into the barrier.
And a dark gray orb that seemed formed from those threads clustered together.
Yong-un lightly tapped his foot.
"Mind if I borrow this for a moment?"
Standing beside Myung-su, Yong-un snatched one of his daggers.
He tried channeling his Extremity into it.
To sever the dark gray threads—and the dark gray orb at the heart of this scheme—he needed a blade.
But...
Craaaack! Pop!
Myung-su's dagger was far too fragile to contain Yong-un's Extremity.
Cracked and shattered, only the hilt remained.
Myung-su stared at it in shock.
"How... did you do that? This dagger was forged from a mana stone using the Wild Slaughter Association's unique method. It's supposed to be unbreakable..."
"I guess this won't do after all."
He'd chosen it because it looked the sturdiest, but it had failed as expected.
He frowned at the hilt in his hand.
'If only I had the Demon-Slaying Sword...'
The Demon-Slaying Sword had grown alongside him, sweeping battlefields as he rose.
But stained with his vengeance, soaked in blood and souls, he'd abandoned it to avoid becoming a bloodthirsty demon again.
No matter the danger, he'd sworn never to wield it again—and reaffirmed that vow countless times.
Yet here, in the exact situation he'd dreaded, it was the first thing that came to mind.
"I've still got a long way to go."
Yong-un shook his head ruefully.
He would never grasp the Demon-Slaying Sword again.
He would never return to being the Sword Demon.
His family needed Yong-un, not the Sword Demon.
Thud.
He tossed the hilt to the ground.
Then lifted his gaze to the sky.
The dark gray orb hung there defiantly, as if daring him to try.
"I wonder if this will work."
Yong-un slowly clenched his fist, grasping at empty air.
From his hand outward, a sword of pure inner energy formed from his Extremity took shape in the void.
A supreme blade radiating purple light, fiercely crackling with violet lightning.
Boom!
The ground cratered and rebounded.
In the same instant, Yong-un's form shot upward like a coiled spring, hurtling toward the dark gray orb in the sky.
In one hand, the Extremity-forged purple sword blazed, linking earth and heaven.
Ruuuumble. Crackle-crackle.
Screee! Screee! Screee!
"The mana control devices are at their limit!"
Dozens of massive devices filled the vast lab, walled in by pristine white barriers.
Everyone hauling the heavy machinery were Hunters, their mana-charged hands moving frantically.
"We've brought every control device in the research institute!"
"No reports—just connect them now!"
"Yes, sir!"
Normally, each device would need careful individual setup, but time was short.
The institute doors burst open as twenty staff members rushed in.
Positioned before the new control devices, they summoned mana, telekinetically drawing out the connected cables.
Swiftly, they linked them one by one to the glowing red-hot box.
Crackle-crackle.
The box, sparking black arcs and shaking wildly, looked ready to explode at any moment as cables jammed into it haphazardly.
Sizzle. Zap.
Dozens, hundreds of cable bundles crammed into the box.
Click!
The dozens of control devices powered up.
Vroooom!
Lights flared across the massive machines.
Just like that, the violently thrashing box stilled as if by magic.
No more blackened currents flowed.
It was still red-hot and wouldn't cool anytime soon.
But that was something.
Preventing further overheating and runaway reactions had averted immediate crisis.
"Did it... work?"
At that moment, someone uttered the forbidden word of magic amid the overcrowded lab—no one could tell who.
The research director, overseeing everyone, scowled at the phrase that could resurrect even dead embers.
He opened his mouth to bellow—
Vrooom! Crackle-crackle.
—but the magic word had done its deed.
Faint blackened currents burst from the box.
The red-hot box began trembling anew.
The runaway reaction... was restarting.
"Which fucking bastard said that?! Crank the control devices to max!"
"The devices are at their limit too. Pushing further could destroy them."
"You think breakage is the problem!? Max them out!"
"B-but it might explode..."
Creeeeak!
The exchange between the director and the Hunter overseer halted abruptly.
A crumpling groan came from the red-hot box, unable to contain the heat any longer.
Embers flew as fragments broke off one by one.
"I don't care if it explodes! Max them out!"
Realizing the dire escalation, the Hunter overseer shouted.
"Yes, sir!"
The twenty Hunters managing cables via telekinesis summoned mana once more.
They began precise mana control to max out the inline output regulators.
"Too late. Cancel the order."
"It's not too late! If we—"
"I said too late, you fuck! Order all Hunters out of the institute!"
"But—"
Creeeeak. Groooan.
One side of the crumpled box tore open violently.
Hiiiiiiss.
Black smoke billowed from the gash.
The torn panel collapsed to the floor amid the smoke.
Thud!
"......"
Silence fell.
The worst had happened.
The box meant to contain the contents could no longer serve its purpose.
The final bulwark protecting everyone in the institute had crumbled.
Whoosh. Crackle! Crackle!
Only the sound of burning flames and black smoke haunted the lab.
No one dared speak.
They huddled, frozen in place.
"We're fucked..."
The director's eyes widened in horror.
No one could move.
Mouths agape, breaths held.
But as time passed with no further change from the box, doubts crept in one by one.
It was exactly two minutes later.
"Open all vents. Flood every pipe."
The director's voice boomed through the lab's speakers.
The order came, but no one budged easily.
Still, a few brave Hunters edged toward the box.
Vroooom.
Vents whirred open, sucking the black smoke filling the box toward the ceiling.
The brave Hunters cranked the pipes beside the box to full blast.
A waterfall cascaded from the ceiling directly above.
Hiiiiiiss!
Pure white steam filled the lab.
Vents fully open, the steam was purged entirely.
The once red-hot box was charred black.
"Check it."
Soaked Hunters cautiously circled the box.
They peered through the torn side at the culprit behind it all.
One by one, they gathered before the opening.
"What do you see?"
"......"
The Hunters peering inside gave no answer.
Growing impatient, the director bellowed.
"What the hell do you see?!"
"......It's empty."
Vent noise drowned the first word.
The director roared louder than ever.
"Speak clearly!"
"It's gone! Empty! The box is completely hollow!"
"Bullshit!"
Having watched from above, the director dashed into an elevator and rushed inside.
To confirm with his own eyes.
Sweat-drenched, he arrived and froze before the gaping box.
The pitch-black interior.
The massive glass tube at its center—meant to hold it—stood empty.
His dazed expression reflected in the cracked, equally sturdy glass.
At that moment.
Yong-un, who had charged the dark gray orb, landed on the ground.
Thud. Rumble-rumble.
Simultaneously, the monsters assailing the Republic of Korea's representative team collapsed like puppets with cut strings.
Sword Tiger yanked his blade from the chest of a two-meter bipedal crocodile monster and kicked it aside.
"What the hell just happened?"
"It seems the Supreme One did it."
Myung-su glanced at the Supreme One staring at his own hands.
Sword Tiger looked too.
"The Supreme One?"
"Yes. Right after he jumped and landed, this happened."
"Now you're taking them down without even moving a finger? Or did he use some profound technique beyond our perception?"
"I think the latter."
Myung-su and Sword Tiger gazed at Yong-un with awe and reverence.
But Yong-un, the architect of it all, wore a grim expression.
Heavily, he lifted his head to the sky.
The tangled dark gray threads blanketing the view fluttered down.
The threads linking barrier and monsters severed entirely, vanishing.
The purple sword of Extremity in his hand dissipated.
Had he succeeded in destroying the dark gray orb?
Grip.
He clenched his now-empty fist.
'No. Failure.'
The dark gray orb still hovered clearly in the sky.
Behind the vanishing threads loomed dozens of times more—thicker dark gray strands.
He scowled.
'If only I had the Demon-Slaying Sword...'
A blade that could fully accept his Extremity.
Its absence weighed heavily today.
A comrade he'd sent away upon discarding the Sword Demon name—one he must never reunite with.
A blood spirit like the Sword Demon itself; he'd vowed never to grasp or seek it again.
Habitually, Yong-un clenched and released his fist as he had in his Sword Demon days.
"No. I don't need it anymore. I won't go back to who I was then."
I have a family now.
Yong-un forced his gaze from the hovering dark gray orb.
As if steeling his resolve, he withdrew his Extremity-enhanced vision, lingering last on the thick dark gray cable linked to the orb.
Purple light faded; his normal sight returned, altering his perception entirely.
Dark gray threads vanished. The massive cable from the orb's source vanished.
One thing alone remained visible.
A colossal rampart in the distance—the true culprit behind it all.
As if beckoning Yong-un, the sturdy wall trembled faintly.
Whoosh.
"I don't need it."
Yong-un whipped his head away fiercely.
He was not the Sword Demon.
Not a bloodthirsty killer who slashed every foe in sight.
He was Yong-un now.
Second son of the Lee family, here only to weaken Demonus with his many subordinates before returning home.
"Everyone, grab the mana stones and move out."
He issued the order to his subordinates, awaiting only his command now that battle had ended.
Then, to hide his inner turmoil, Yong-un vanished from the spot.
Whoooosh.
Yong-un cherished his current life.
No reason to return to the past, no desire to.
Even he, godlike and omniscient to his followers, had blind spots.
Even as he reaffirmed his resolve...
He didn't sense the temptation rapidly approaching to shake his heart.
Riiiing!
A phone rang—one that shouldn't sound within Demonus.
The War God pulled out his second phone from deep in his pocket, reserved for special occasions.
Staring at it briefly, he answered with a grave expression.
And spoke.
"I've received the direct line. What happened?"