The Fallen King's Demonic Pact
Phantom Demon Cult Leader Gu Yang-rin spoke. “Neunghogun. So you have joined hands with the Heavenly Demon Cult after all?”
“It was a necessary choice for the greater good.”
“The greater good? You mean you laid hands on innocent civilians for that so-called greater good?”
Kugugugugugung. Baekri Hyeok released killing intent at Neunghogun’s absurd excuse. It seemed the man understood “greater good” and “massacre” as interchangeable terms. Recalling the former Fist King, Baekri Hyeok remembered a man who had not fallen this far. Yet why had one of the Ten Great Masters of the Murim sunk to such depths?
“Sword Sovereign, you do not know the Heavenly Demon Cult’s true strength.”
“Even if I do not, I will gladly stand against them for the sake of the Murim.”
“Indeed. You have always been that stubborn. But once you face the Heavenly Demon Cult, that conviction will vanish.”
Neunghogun recalled the day he had confronted the cult. They were less like martial artists and more like wild beasts that had never been tamed. For their goals, they ignored their own safety and struck straight for the enemy’s throat. That madness had left the Fist King with wounds so severe he had been forced to disappear for a time.
“I thought to myself—if I must oppose them, it would be better to stand with them and at least protect my own people. That, I decided, was the true greater good.”
“…You are mad. Even the title of King is wasted on you. Die.”
Kwaaaaaang!! Baekri Hyeok swung his sword, and a thick sword qi surged toward Neunghogun. It was on an entirely different level from the qi the Fist King wielded. Yet contrary to Baekri Hyeok’s expectation that the man would panic, Neunghogun curled one corner of his mouth upward.
“Why do you think I massacred those civilians?”
“…You bastard!”
“It was to wield this power freely! Kahahahahaha!”
A sticky, filthy, sinister black energy rose from Neunghogun’s body—magi, the opposite of inner energy, said to be used only by the Heavenly Demon Cult. To think the reason for the massacre had been nothing more than to harness such power. Baekri Hyeok felt something beyond anger: sheer disbelief.
“You unleashed a massacre simply because you were drunk on that power?”
“Simply? This power can even block the Five Venerables’ qi! With it, your chances of defeating me are less than ten percent!”
“…You talk too much.”
Baekri Hyeok looked at Neunghogun, who was so intoxicated by his newfound strength that he could not even perceive his own condition, and felt genuine pity. To think the once-renowned master of the unorthodox faction had fallen so low. The man had abandoned his former self for the scent of new power, unaware that it was poison.
“Here and now, I will end you.”
“You think that is possible?”
Tukwaaaang! Neunghogun stamped his foot, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the earth. The abnormal power of magi drained the land of life. Baekri Hyeok shook his head and reversed his grip on his sword.
“What are you planning?”
“You will not live long enough to find out.”
“You bastard!”
Neunghogun gathered every ounce of his strength and unleashed his ultimate technique, the Heaven-Shattering Demon-Destroying Fist. A single fist packed with immense inner energy shot forward, obliterating everything in its path with apocalyptic force.
Yet Baekri Hyeok stared coldly at the heart of the attack.
“Huuup!!”
Kwagwang! He kicked the ground with tremendous force and became a streak of light. Not only did he shatter the Heaven-Shattering Demon-Destroying Fist, he closed the distance in an instant and drew his blade across Neunghogun’s neck.
Chaaaaak!
“Krrk! Th-that sword art… Krgh!”
“It is the essence of everything I am—something you would need a hundred years to understand.”
It was the second stance of the Hundred Heavens Three Stances: Shadow Annihilation. A technique that used inner energy to propel the user forward like a shadow, severing the enemy’s neck in a single stroke. Given enough time, nothing could withstand its edge. Neunghogun died without even realizing what had happened, his head rolling across the ground. No blood stained Baekri Hyeok’s sword; the strike had been too swift.
Baekri Hyeok turned away from the cooling corpse and prepared to return to the clan. But just as he was about to take to the skies—
[Are you the Sword Sovereign?]
“..!”
[Greetings, Sword Sovereign. I am Gu Yang-rin, leader of the Phantom Demon Cult.]
A woman’s unfamiliar voice emerged from Neunghogun’s headless body—the voice of the Phantom Demon Cult Leader, ruler of one of the Heavenly Demon Cult’s subordinate factions. Baekri Hyeok hesitated between returning to the clan immediately or speaking with her. There were reliable people at the clan, but he needed information about the enemy first.
“Was this entire situation orchestrated by the Heavenly Demon Cult?”
[I did not expect much, yet you have exceeded my expectations. As expected, the power of those called the Five Venerables of the Murim is different from the rabble.]
“Stop wasting time and speak plainly.”
Baekri Hyeok glared down at the corpse with cold eyes. Something was clearly amiss; a voice emanating from a dead body was deeply unsettling. He was only now beginning to understand what true sorcery felt like. Yet Gu Yang-rin continued without losing her amused tone.
[It seems our cult has somewhat underestimated the Murim’s strength. In that regard, I suppose I should offer my thanks.]
“Is that all you have to say? If you have nothing more, I am leaving.”
[A calamity will soon descend upon you.]
“..!”
[Try to stop it if you can. If you fail, the future of the Murim will vanish.]
“…”
Gu Yang-rin fell silent, as though she had nothing left to add. Once the sinister energy had completely dissipated, Baekri Hyeok stood in place, lost in thought. He could not decide whether to believe her words. If she was telling the truth, the Heavenly Demon Cult had already finished preparing to strike and would soon descend upon the Murim. Yet why would the Phantom Demon Cult Leader leak such information to an enemy? It made no sense—unless her true goal had been to sow confusion.
Now that he had heard her, Baekri Hyeok realized he had already been drawn into her scheme.
“This is troublesome.”
At the same time, he noticed his vision beginning to distort. The reason Gu Yang-rin had spread that information was to cast an illusion upon him.
“I have been caught.”
At this level, fighting was still possible, but returning quickly was not. He had only spoken with her for a short time, yet she had already trapped him in an illusion. It was likely because he had not even considered resisting. If martial artists capable of such illusions appeared in the Murim, the outcome was obvious.
“I must prepare properly.”
The Heavenly Demon Cult’s strength far exceeded his imagination. Gathering an army in a half-hearted manner would be a grave mistake. With that thought, Baekri Hyeok sat down and began circulating his energy.
**********
Kwajijijik! An axe smashed into a man’s head, crushing it. The blow carried no technique—only raw, brutal force—and was all the more terrifying for it.
“Damn you, intruders! As long as Gongson Ryong stands here, the Baekri Clan Residence will never fall!”
Goebu Gongson Ryong. The sight of him wielding his axe was like a demon risen from hell. His entire body was caked with the blood of others and all manner of unidentifiable filth. His methods were far too cruel for a righteous faction martial artist. This was the result of discarding the pride of the orthodox sects after the dissolution of the Cheoksagun—the completed form of his vow to show no mercy to those who threatened his lord and himself.
Gongson Ryong rampaged across the battlefield for a time, until a group radiating sinister energy appeared and surrounded him.
“Who are you?”
“Goebu Gongson Ryong. You will die here.”
“Hah! What an amusing thing to say! Come at me if you dare!”
Gongson Ryong could vaguely sense the strength of the figures before him. Fortunately, none had reached the Hwajing realm, but every one of them was at the Transcendent Peak Realm—some even on the verge of breaking through. He had to face fifteen masters at the peak of the Transcendent Peak Realm.
‘Can I win?’
He had never fought a real battle since reaching the Hwajing realm. This would be his first, and he was not sure he could survive it. But one thing was certain: if he failed to stop them here, his lord’s home would be destroyed.
“Come at me!!”
Therefore, gripping his axe, Gongson Ryong charged toward the mysterious martial artists.