Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 022
Chapter Title: Battle
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Seok Du-myeong kicked away Yeom-pal, who had his head held high savoring the jerky, and pressed down on Seo-chil's head with his hand as he shouted toward I Jo-hyeok.
"Get down! Arrow attack!"
Whoosh.
Thud.
"Hng."
Soon after, the sound of an impact and a stifled scream rang out. It seemed one of the Demon-Exterminating Corps members who had been dawdling got hit by an arrow.
Even so, the Corps members here were all veterans who had fought in numerous battles during the Great War against the Demonic Cult. Most of them quickly ducked down and scrambled for cover.
"Everyone, battle stations!"
The squad leaders drew their swords and bellowed at their men while staying vigilant.
Seok Du-myeong sensed demonic energy rapidly closing in from about a hundred jang away.
Thirty in number, including one peak realm expert.
They outnumbered his side, and they had a peak realm expert to boot.
Just the presence of that peak expert changed everything.
Engaging them meant certain defeat.
Total annihilation was all but guaranteed.
Of course, Seok Du-myeong was a wildcard...
Yeom-pal sidled right up next to Seok Du-myeong.
He was covered head to toe in dirt from getting kicked over earlier, but he didn't have time to brush it off. No time for that.
Arrows were still whistling in sporadically.
Seok Du-myeong glanced at I Jo-hyeok and said,
"Jo-hyeok, a fight's about to kick off any minute. When it does, give it everything you've got today."
I Jo-hyeok's eyes widened in surprise before he nodded.
"Hyung-nim, are the enemies coming now?"
Yeom-pal asked, his face tense and rigid.
"Yeah, they're almost here. Let's get ready."
Hearing that, Yeom-pal tightened his greaves and bound his hand to the hilt of his saber with leather straps.
With no choice but to fight now, Yeom-pal steeled himself.
"No one scatter! Stick in groups of three and fight together. Dan Seong-hu and Yang Ho, you're with me. Seok Du-myeong, you take the other three. In this goddamn world, don't die—make sure we all get home alive!"
Squad Leader Jo Ja-muk shouted at the top of his lungs, as if trying to shake off the dread of death.
Jo Ja-muk had a bad feeling too.
That today would be the hardest day to survive.
Fighting while isolated deep in enemy territory was bad enough, but even retreating meant a half-day march to friendly lines.
Shaking off the Demonic Cult pursuit squad that long was next to impossible.
Moments later, thick demonic energy rolled in. Even in the dark night, the Demonic Cultists were visible to the naked eye as they charged at full speed.
Whish whish whish.
Hand axes spun through the air with an eerie whir.
"Those bastards always start with their damn axes,"
Yeom-pal grumbled as he rose with his saber at the ready.
Seok Du-myeong drew his sword and prepared for battle as well.
*
Clang clang!
"Urk, ngh."
The clash of steel and muffled groans filled the air.
The fight had devolved into a chaotic melee.
In the initial clash, the surprised Demon-Exterminating Corps members had floundered a bit, but as time passed, their veteran experience shone through. They paired off in groups of three or four, forming defensive lines and holding firm.
Slash—whoosh.
Clang!
I Jo-hyeok swung his sword, deflecting his opponent's blade.
I Jo-hyeok was undoubtedly a first-rate warrior.
After Seok Du-myeong's words, he unleashed his full power without holding back. Now, he was fending off two or three attackers with ease and pressing them hard.
"Hng."
Seok Du-myeong flashed toward the foe reeling from I Jo-hyeok's strike, piercing their heart with a sword as swift as lightning.
In that short span, Seok Du-myeong had already slain three Demonic Cultists.
Whoosh.
Thud.
The Demonic Cult peak expert swung his sword a few times, mowing down Corps members like bundles of wheat.
Squad Four Leader Yang Dan-gu took a long gash on his arm, and three of his squadmates fell to sword strikes soon after.
The numbers had been even at first, but now the Corps side was dwindling fast.
Slash.
"Gahk."
Seok Du-myeong raked his sword across a Cultist's throat.
The man clutched his neck, convulsed, and went still.
Now, the Cultists hesitated to approach Seok Du-myeong's position, wary and standoffish.
He had already taken out more than four of them. Even the Cultists recognized he was no ordinary fighter.
The peak expert abandoned the other fights and headed for Seok Du-myeong. Furious at losing four subordinates, he aimed to deal with him first.
"At least one of you knows how to use a sword."
With arrogant eyes, ignoring the corpses tripping underfoot, he stared at Seok Du-myeong from a short distance away.
He looked to be in his mid-to-late thirties, skinny with a sharp face scarred across the cheek.
In terms of internal energy alone, Seok Du-myeong had fully entered the peak realm.
It was just that he lacked the corresponding enlightenment, and his training time was still short, so he couldn't yet manifest wind energy akin to sword force.
Seok Du-myeong stood tall, facing the enemy head-on.
As the two experts locked eyes, a chilling tension stretched taut between them.
The Cultists attacking Seok Du-myeong's group halted and fell back.
The fierce clashes elsewhere began to die down as well.
The Cultists pulled back across the board, creating distance from the Corps members.
The Corps held their defensive formations in place without advancing, so the battle naturally ground to a halt.
From the Cult's perspective, there was no need to rush.
They knew their peak realm squad leader's prowess well. Once he finished off Seok Du-myeong and rejoined, wiping out the rest would be trivial.
No point forcing an attack now without the leader and risking needless casualties.
Four Cultists dead, seven Corps members killed or wounded.
Seok Du-myeong's Squad Two was lucky with no deaths, but Squad Four had lost four, and their leader's wounds were far from light.
All Cult deaths were by Seok Du-myeong's sword.
That was why the peak expert came for him.
He knew no one else posed a threat. Eliminate Seok Du-myeong, and casualties would end.
The Corps members watched Seok Du-myeong anxiously from their standoff positions.
When I Jo-hyeok tried to approach, Seok Du-myeong blocked him.
Jo-hyeok, stay back. If you step in here, it'll turn into another melee. Then the rest of the Corps gets wiped out.
Seok Du-myeong sent him a transmission.
I Jo-hyeok stared in shock before nodding.
Seok Du-myeong was right, and the transmission itself—plus the feats from the reed field battle last time—proved his skills surpassed first-rate.
I Jo-hyeok didn't show it, but he had a rough gauge of Seok Du-myeong's prowess.
Now was the time to trust him.
I Jo-hyeok fell back to join Jin Yeom-pal and Gong Seo-chil.
As Seok Du-myeong had said, if it turned melee again, the Cult would take heavy losses too—but the Corps would be annihilated. That included everyone in Squad Two except Seok Du-myeong and I Jo-hyeok.
Jin Yeom-pal and Gong Seo-chil would be in danger too.
"I'm Do Jo-san of the Black Wind Corps' Demon-Slaying Squad. Know my name before you die. Who are you? For a Demon-Exterminating Corps ronin, that's some rare skill. Fine swift swordplay."
Seok Du-myeong spat indifferently on the ground.
"Save it. Come at me already, punk. Your tough-guy act is pathetic."
Do Jo-san's face twisted, his eyes blazing.
Crack.
He leaped forward, slashing down in a straight line mid-air, his sword force laced with demonic energy.
Crimson-black demonic energy roiled, crushing the air around it.
The blackened blade, infused with qi, crashed down heavily. Pure brute force to overwhelm.
A sign of how pissed he was.
Seok Du-myeong countered from below with a lightning upward strike—the sixth form of the latter half of Master's Augmented Piercing Swift Sword Technique, Master's Earth Guidance.
A form created by Dan Mun-hyeok, the world's greatest, because the latter half of Piercing Swift lacked a decisive heavy blow.
This final form retained swift sword traits but packed a heavy punch.
Boom!
The swords clashed not with a metallic ring but a thunderous roar, kicking up dust.
Seok Du-myeong staggered back two or three steps, crouching low, but his opponent reeled four steps before regaining footing.
Do Jo-san's shock was plain.
Do Jo-san, Squad Three Leader of the Black Wind Corps, had pegged Seok Du-myeong as a second-rate swordsman with an oddly fast style.
Even the four dead subordinates weren't solely his doing—the synergy with his heavy-sword partner had played a part, he'd thought.
Still, impressed by the ronin's swift sword for a low-rank warrior, he'd asked his name before killing him.
But the fool spat on his magnanimity, enraging him.
Aiming to end it in one blow, he'd unleashed his signature technique, Mountain-Crushing Thrust Sword.
Simple, but channeling max demonic energy into a downward smash to obliterate foes.
Yet in the counter, the momentum shifted wildly.
Like a coiled beast roaring upward, Seok Du-myeong's rising strike exploded in power.
From the shock through his sword,
his opponent was no inferior.
Feeling his hands numb, Do Jo-san shed his contempt, gripped his sword firmly, and assumed a cautious stance for another attack.
Seok Du-myeong readjusted his posture, thinking inwardly,
Why can't I quite manifest the wind energy?
His three meridians swelled with qi begging for release, yet it jammed up at the last moment. Frustrating.
This time, Seok Du-myeong struck first.
Using Raksha Village Slaughter, the fastest thrusting form of Master's Augmented Piercing Swift Sword Technique, he lunged, aiming for the eyes.
Whoosh.
His sword shot forth like a beam of light.
When facing a swift thrust, instinct drives evasion or blocking.
Even peak realm Do Jo-san deflected it with his sword. But Seok Du-myeong's blade twisted with the parry,
Lightning flash, stone fire.
slicing across Do Jo-san's shoulder.
Splat!
Blood sprayed from Do Jo-san's shoulder.
Not deep. But it shook him mentally.
No breather—Seok Du-myeong's chained attacks poured in relentlessly.
Do Jo-san proved his peak realm mettle, severing the onslaught with rapid strikes.
The watching Corps members gaped in astonishment.
Seok Du-myeong was dominating a peak expert.
Splat.
Blood spurted from Do Jo-san's arm. As the duel dragged on, minor cuts accumulated across his body.
Blood soaked his clothes crimson.
In clashes between masters, one small factor often decides victory.
In every sense—mental and physical—Do Jo-san was being cornered by Seok Du-myeong.
Overwhelmed by the ceaseless swift combos, Do Jo-san faltered.