The Monster of Mosan
Ilyang sat on the sandy ground, chewing on a strip of beef jerky and smirking like a spectator at a theatrical play.
"Things have gone according to plan, Senior."
"Your spells are truly profound, Junior."
"We had luck on our side in many ways."
Honestly, Geum-ok's help had been immense.
He didn't know what method the Cheonhyeol Sect bastards were using to track them, but they were competent enough that it had been impossible to shake them off completely.
Even when he cast spells to alter their course along the way, they pursued them with uncanny accuracy.
They must have an artifact specialized in tracking.
If it had been a person tracking them by tracing mana, there was no way Ilyang would have missed even the faintest flow of it.
Therefore, logically speaking, they had to possess some sort of tracking artifact.
I was a bit concerned because I didn't know how it worked.
The best solution would have been to destroy the artifact.
But that would have wasted too much mana, and the risk of failure was too high.
While he was weighing his options...
The Wulin Alliance made their grand entrance.
Fortunately, Ilyang's reaction had been faster than the Alliance's.
From the very beginning, he had tasked Geum-ok with erasing all their physical traces.
On top of that, he had been using magic to fluidly manipulate the flow of mana.
And at the decisive moment, I used Invisible Mana.
This spell concealed all mana within a specific area, making it quite a burden on his mana reserves.
Fortunately, it had worked out somehow.
Thanks to that, Ilyang and his companions were now watching the clash between the two factions from a comfortable distance, completely at ease.
"Should we not use this chance to put some distance between us?"
Cheol Mu-geuk, feeling uneasy, suggested making their escape, but Ilyang's thoughts differed.
"Well, that is also a good approach. However, this won't take very long. Let us watch just one more scene before we withdraw, Senior."
"Mmm... do as you wish, Junior."
Ilyang nodded and turned his gaze back to the clearing, which was on the verge of a clash.
That bizarre old man with the Wulin Alliance... I feel like I need to observe his spells beforehand.
This was a matter of pure instinct.
That old man definitely caught his attention.
He was undoubtedly a spellcaster.
And a highly advanced one at that.
At a glance from this distance, he seemed to be around Gong Jeol-gang's level.
But strangely, I feel like there's more to him than meets the eye.
A spellcaster of Gong Jeol-gang's caliber couldn't pose the slightest threat to Ilyang, who had already reached the 4th Circle.
In fact, the elite martial artists of the Wulin Alliance flanking the old man were far more troublesome to Ilyang at the moment.
Yet, my gut tells me he isn't just some ordinary spellcaster on Gong Jeol-gang's level.
Just what was he hiding?
Surprisingly, even Ilyang's eyes couldn't pierce through the veil completely.
Meanwhile...
The spirit of the wind.
Having eavesdropped on the conversation in the clearing with the help of Geum-ok, Ilyang asked in a low voice,
"They call him the Six-Finger Old Monster. Do you happen to know him?"
"The Six-Finger Old Monster, Go Se-geuk?!"
Yang Cheon-jo, who was standing beside them, shrieked in shock. But when Ilyang pressed a finger to his lips and gave him a warning look, the young spearman realized his blunder and quickly clamped his mouth shut.
In the meantime...
Cheol Mu-geuk stroked his rough beard as he replied,
"The spellcaster I originally intended to seek out before I met you was indeed the Six-Finger Old Monster. I even went all the way to the Wulin Alliance, but I was unable to meet him."
"It seems I was the lucky one, then."
"Mmm, is that so? At any rate, although the Mosan Sect to which the Six-Finger Old Monster belongs is affiliated with the Wulin Alliance, the exact location of their headquarters is shrouded in secrecy. They have many enemies, so they must be cautious. With my connections, even securing an audience with the Mosan Sect was an impossible task."
"Oh? From what I hear, he is considered the greatest spellcaster of the Orthodox factions."
"Indeed. The Mosan Sect is the only immortal cultivation sect officially recognized by the Orthodox faction. And the Six-Finger Old Monster is the leader of that very sect."
Ilyang stroked his chin.
His reputation, his background...
And now, seeing him in person.
The man was clearly a cut above Gong Jeol-gang.
Yet, he doesn't show any outward signs of it.
That was the problem.
To examine him more closely, Ilyang would have to use magic.
But doing so would undoubtedly alert the old monster.
If I can just witness him clash once...
Then he would be able to gauge the man's true depth.
While Ilyang watched the clearing from afar with an intrigued expression, the drama unfolded on the stage below.
In the clearing, the two leaders confronted each other.
Hong Sun-won bit his lower lip and spoke.
"Do you have no intention of letting us pass?"
"Do you think that's even possible?"
At Paeng Cheon-woo's sneer, Hong Sun-won stared back with a frigid gaze.
"You should at least be prepared to lose a few limbs."
"To take down the Slaughtering Demon Sword, losing an arm would be a badge of honor."
"...There must be many others gathered here besides us. Is there any need to needlessly deplete our strength?"
It was a rational argument.
But he was talking to the wrong person.
Paeng Cheon-woo, the Hall Leader of the Blue Dragon Hall, was not a man who operated on logic.
"There's never a good bastard among those who run their mouths."
"I offer my condolences for your miserable social life."
"Heheh, it seems you're finally in the mood to fight?"
"You had better leave some last words."
Realizing that further talk was useless, Hong Sun-won gave up and began to steadily unleash his aura.
The two men standing at the very front.
The air between them began to sizzle and warp with tension.
"I've been curious about this for a long time."
True to his epithet, the Colossal Force Tyrant Saber, Paeng Cheon-woo raised his massive saber above his head as if it were a mere sheet of paper. He rolled up his sleeves, flaunting his bulging, rippling forearms.
"There's some bullshit rumor that the swordsmanship of the Blood Sect bastards is unmatched under heaven. Unmatched? For mere swordsmanship? What an exaggeration."
The masters of the Wulin Alliance began to shift their positions, gradually forming a wide, circular encirclement around the Cheonlang Squad.
The massive dragnet was completed in an instant.
Yet, the experts of the Cheonlang Squad showed no intention of fleeing.
They were already tightly clustered in a circle, prepared to deploy their Slaughtering Formation.
Unless one side was completely annihilated, neither could escape. They were locked in a perfect, deadly embrace.
As the Slaughtering Demon Sword, Hong Sun-won, regulated his breathing and prepared to strike,
Paeng Cheon-woo tracked the tip of Hong Sun-won's sword with eyes gleaming with murderous intent.
"I really don't like it, but... I'm no fool either."
"...?"
A sudden chill ran down Hong Sun-won's spine.
At that exact moment, something caught his eye.
Damn it!
Hong Sun-won instantly transformed into a crimson arrow, lunging forward. His sword, wrapped in a brilliant red sword-force, thrust directly toward Paeng Cheon-woo's dantian.
"So just drop dead and rot in hell, you subhuman scum."
Though Paeng Cheon-woo spat out harsh words, his actions were exceedingly cautious. He took a step back, adopting a heavy, defensive stance to carefully absorb Hong Sun-won's devastating strike.
Craaaack!
In that brief window...
The five-foot-tall old man, who had been hiding his presence completely behind Paeng Cheon-woo's massive frame...
The Six-Finger Old Monster, Go Se-geuk, swept his sleeve in a grand arc.
Instantly, a massive tremor reverberated through the heavens and the earth.
This bastard...
Ilyang finally understood what the old man truly was.
Watching from afar, Ilyang's eyes widened.
Sensing the manifestation of a colossal, invisible giant expanding in all directions, he quickly scrambled to his feet.
"Time to run, Senior."
"What?"
"Our luck has run out. We've been spotted."
"Oh dear... Let me try to explain things to them. I do not know the Six-Finger Old Monster, but Paeng Cheon-woo and I are somewhat acquainted."
"No. Right now, running is our only option."
Ilyang lightly tapped the body of Geum-ok, who was wrapped around his neck like a scarf.
He completely released all the traces and mana they had been concealing.
He laid it all bare.
Immediately, the heavy, oppressive air of the surroundings pressed directly against their skin.
Since things had already come to this, Ilyang decided to cast a mana scan toward the Six-Finger Old Monster.
And then...
He can manifest his mental world at will?
The old man's mental world took the shape of a transparent giant.
Its form was incredibly distinct.
Astonishingly, this level of manifestation required at least a 5th-Circle Master.
Perhaps even a 6th-Circle Archmage.
But if Ilyang's assessment was correct...
This was highly anomalous.
According to the laws of this world, a 6th-Circle Archmage shouldn't be able to exist in the lower realm.
It would be one thing if he had achieved the 6th Circle through magic.
But what they practiced was the system of this world.
Specifically, that bizarre method known as immortal cultivation.
According to Gong Jeol-gang,
once a cultivator reached a certain threshold of immortal cultivation, they would naturally undergo ascension—
meaning they would ascend to the upper realm.
I estimated that boundary to be around the 5th or 6th Circle.
What this old geezer was demonstrating was a blatant violation of this world's laws.
How could he remain in the lower realm while defying the laws of the world?
Even as he hastily backed away, Ilyang couldn't help but let out a scoff after analyzing the situation.
Ah, he used a loophole.
Of course he did.
Under normal circumstances, a cultivator of that caliber could never exist on this earth.
It was a violation of the world's laws.
Therefore, the Six-Finger Old Monster was currently using an extremely specific method to forcibly suppress his own existence.
Even just now, he controlled that power with exquisite precision.
Rumble!
The colossal, transparent giant slammed its fist down upon the area where the Cheonhyeol Sect stood.
It was an exercise of pure, brute physical force.
A massive shockwave and a violent gale erupted immediately after.
When Ilyang stole a glance backward,
he saw the transparent giant's eyes high up in the distant sky, staring directly down at him.
Let's leave it at this for now. Let's just go our separate ways.
As the giant lifted its transparent fist from the ground,
a sickening, squelching sound of tearing flesh and blood seemed to echo in Ilyang's ears.
The giant hesitated for a brief moment after lifting its hand,
and then began to raise its fist once more.
Ruuuumble—
...You really should stop there.
Ilyang let out a sigh.
The Six-Finger Old Monster,
the Sect Leader of the Orthodox Mosan Sect,
seemed determined to finish him off, even if it meant overexerting himself.
If you push yourself right now, you stand to lose far more than I do. Why don't you calm down?
To remain in the lower realm, the Six-Finger Old Monster had placed a massive restriction—
a seal—upon his own body.
To the untrained eye, there was absolutely no sign of it.
But having thoroughly scanned the old man's internal structure with magic, Ilyang could see his condition with crystal clarity.
His realm is equivalent to a 6th-Circle Archmage.
Even to Ilyang, this was an incredibly formidable level.
Even on the Seven Continents where Ilyang had originally lived, a 6th-Circle Archmage was revered as the ruler of an entire region.
Translating that to the standards of this world...
Would it be beyond the Foundation Establishment Stage, perhaps the Core Formation Stage?
Normally, anyone at the Foundation Establishment Stage should have ascended long ago.
The lower realm simply could not sustain the presence of a Foundation Establishment cultivator.
Yet, through some unknown means, this monster had bypassed the Foundation Establishment Stage and reached the Core Formation Stage.
It was like a colossal dragon coiled inside a cramped, narrow well.
Ordinarily, he shouldn't have been able to linger in the lower realm for even a single second.
However, the old monster had intentionally placed a powerful seal upon his own soul, tearing and fragmenting its size just enough to allow him to remain in the lower realm.
But I've seen right through it all.
Whooooosh—
Did he realize that his secrets had been laid bare?
Or did he feel threatened by that realization?
The colossal fist descending from the heavens did not hesitate.
Even as he coughed up dark, black blood,
the Six-Finger Old Monster gritted his teeth and forced his fist downward.