Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 023
Chapter Title: Battle (2)
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However, Do Jo-san couldn't easily wrest back the advantage he'd lost to Seok Du-myeong.
Seok Du-myeong was on the verge of entering a trance-like state. Since learning martial arts from his master, he'd never faced an opponent as formidable as the one before him now.
A peak expert.
Someone who, in the past, he couldn't even dream of facing head-on— a figure so lofty he could barely look up at them.
Yet now, that peak expert felt almost ordinary. It was a strange sensation.
Sparring with his master held little real combat value, even if his master, Dan Mun-hyeok, adjusted to Seok Du-myeong's level.
Dan Mun-hyeok was a transcendent realm master. No matter what tricks Seok Du-myeong tried to graze even the hem of his robes...
He was an absolute powerhouse beyond reach.
The skill gap was so absurd it couldn't truly count as practical training.
Only recently, as Seok Du-myeong's skills grew and they could exchange a few offensive and defensive moves, did the spars gain meaning.
Still, it was thanks to those sessions that he could fight like this now...
In that sense, clashing swords with an enemy of near-equal skill in a life-or-death struggle brought an exhilarating thrill Seok Du-myeong had never known.
His Master's Augmented Piercing Swift Sword Technique, now at eight stars, was far more devastating than during the reed field battle.
Chaaang! Chaaang! Chaaaang!
Lightning-fast strikes, too swift for the eye to follow, clashed repeatedly against Do Jo-san's blade, ringing out with resonant echoes.
Thwack.
Blood sprayed from Do Jo-san's arm once more.
For a heavy sword wielder like Do Jo-san, swift sword experts weren't inherently tricky opponents.
He'd faced plenty who prioritized speed.
But this one was different— a first for him.
The flaw of swift swordsmen was their light blades, which heavy swordsmen could shatter with raw power.
Yet this opponent's sword wasn't just fast; it was heavy, too.
And it shifted with vicious unpredictability.
Do Jo-san gradually tired from the accumulating minor wounds.
The scales of their duel were tipping slowly toward Seok Du-myeong.
The Black Wind Corps members were stunned to see their squad leader being pushed back.
First-rate experts stepped forward.
This was a battlefield.
No need for one-on-one duel etiquette. On the field of war, only the victor held truth.
I Jo-hyeok raised his sword to block Seok Du-myeong's flank, while the Demon-Exterminating Corps members gripped their weapons anew, bracing tensely for the Demonic Cultists' assault.
They all knew: the moment Seok Du-myeong fell was the signal for their own annihilation.
But if he could take down that Demonic Cult peak expert, then even restarting the fight offered a sliver of hope.
The entire Demon-Exterminating Corps squad gripped their weapons, sweating as they silently cheered Seok Du-myeong on in their hearts.
The duel had peaked, with Seok Du-myeong gaining the edge bit by bit. Yet he was growing anxious.
His heightened senses detected demonic energy rapidly approaching from afar.
Seok Du-myeong hesitated for a split second.
Finish the foe before him quickly, or halt the fight and flee?
No time for prolonged thought.
The Demonic Cult reinforcements were nearly upon them.
Seok Du-myeong spun his sword wide to shove Do Jo-san's blade away and retreat, but Do Jo-san clung tenaciously.
Time was running out.
Seok Du-myeong unleashed another ferocious strike from his Master's Augmented Piercing Swift Sword Technique toward Do Jo-san.
Boom!
A thunderous crash sent Seok Du-myeong rebounding backward.
He used the momentum to widen the gap, retreating further.
"Jo-hyeok! Yeom-pal! We gotta bolt— now!"
Seok Du-myeong shouted as he backpedaled.
Then.
Whoosh.
Thud.
A furiously spinning axe hurtled in and embedded in a Demon-Exterminating Corps member's skull.
Too late to retreat.
Black Wind Corps reinforcements, now close enough to see clearly, were hurling axes.
Over forty strong, with two peak experts among them.
The Black Wind members who'd been facing off hesitantly now surged forward with renewed vigor.
Even Seok Du-myeong's mind went blank.
'Ah, so this is where I die. Can't even collect my back pay, open that inn, or get married.'
Indignation surged in his chest.
But resolve hardened his gaze.
'Fine. Even if I die, I won't go quietly. I'll drag every last one of you bastards with me.'
You're all dead!
First, you.
Seok Du-myeong charged Do Jo-san again, swinging his sword in a frenzy.
Do Jo-san couldn't accept this reality.
At thirty-six, a mid-peak expert and rising star in the Demonic Cult.
Yet here he was, toyed with by some young punk from the Demon-Exterminating Corps who looked even younger than him. Unbelievable.
The opponent had even backed off, yelling at his comrades as if Do Jo-san meant nothing.
As reality sank in through his daze, Do Jo-san registered the Black Wind reinforcements' arrival.
Fury boiled toward the man before him.
The ultimate technique that earned him the moniker Demon Slaughter Sword.
To unleash its final form, Life-Cutting Inferno Slash...
Do Jo-san channeled all his demonic energy into his blade.
It darkened to an inky black.
Having suffered from the enemy's swift, erratic strikes earlier, he now poured every ounce of inner power into this one overwhelming blow of brute force and might.
Do Jo-san was confident.
This single strike would avenge all humiliations.
As Seok Du-myeong lunged, Do Jo-san smirked inwardly and swept his sword upward from below in a lightning arc, just as anticipated.
He'd yielded some distance to deflect the attack, then counter with devastating demonic power to crush him...
Thud.
Do Jo-san's consciousness snapped.
Splurt.
Blood gushed from his throat as he toppled backward.
"Kuh... kuhk."
The ground grew slick and red with the blood pouring from Do Jo-san's neck.
Even in death, his eyes brimmed with disbelief and doubt.
Seok Du-myeong shuddered once.
He felt the long-elusive Wind Energy finally burst forth—that exhilarating release.
In the final instant, it wasn't his sword that cleaved Do Jo-san, but the Wind Energy erupting from it.
Seok Du-myeong had truly entered the peak realm.
But there was no time for joy.
Independently, the battle spiraled into despair.
Squad 3 Leader Chu Mun-gi's head lay severed from his body.
The barely maintained triangular formations of each squad had collapsed entirely.
Demon-Exterminating Corps members were isolated one by one, surrounded and slaughtered by Black Wind Corps foes.
Seok Du-myeong whirled around, checking on Squad 2.
Their formation broken; Ma Seong-hu and Yang Ho encircled by enemies.
I Jo-hyeok, Jin Yeom-pal, and Gong Seo-chil had rushed to the wounded Jo Ja-muk's side, forming a defensive line.
Even as Seok Du-myeong watched, Ma Seong-hu took a blade to the back, and Yang Ho's leg was hacked off.
Seok Du-myeong leaped toward them.
Landing, he unleashed the first form of the later sequences in Master's Augmented Piercing Swift Sword Technique— Full Autumn Flash Blade— sweeping through three or four Black Wind members before him.
"Gah!"
"Ugh."
"Gurk."
Blood sprayed in all directions.
The sword's ray-like trajectory warped with Wind Energy, slicing everything in its path.
Three Black Wind men's limbs flew off.
But the blade piercing Ma Seong-hu's back already protruded from his chest, and Yang Ho, writhing on his severed leg amid the bloody muck, stared wide-eyed as his movements stilled.
Judging it hopeless, Seok Du-myeong etched his fallen comrades' faces into memory with bloodshot eyes, then turned away.
Pressing forward, he cleaved another one or two obstructing cultists and joined the group.
Up close, Squad Leader Jo Ja-muk's wounds looked dire.
Minor cuts everywhere were one thing, but the gash in his side had torn into organs— blood still flowing freely.
Jin Yeom-pal, Gong Seo-chil, and I Jo-hyeok were drenched in blood from countless gashes, but none seemed fatal, thankfully.
"Seok Du-myeong, incredible!"
Jo Ja-muk grimaced in pain, clutching his side, but raised a thumbs-up with his free hand.
Seok Du-myeong pulled golden sore medicine from his bosom and dusted it over Jo Ja-muk's flank.
"Agh!"
Jo Ja-muk's face twisted further.
Glancing over, Seok Du-myeong saw the remaining Black Wind Corps had finished off the other Demon-Exterminating members and were charging this way with murderous intent.
Leading them, a peak expert oozed baleful demonic energy, fixating on them— especially Seok Du-myeong— with viscous eyes, advancing slowly.
'Yeah, you'd be pissed. I just sent one like you to hell.'
Seok Du-myeong felt an odd calm settle in.
No escape now; they'd reached the end of the line.
Death was certain. But to assuage the injustice, he'd resolved to take as many as possible.
A strange relief washed over him.
"Yeom-pal, you stashed some liquor, right?"
"You told me to fill up with water, bro."
"This guy's obedient when it counts."
Seok Du-myeong smacked his lips, regretting the lack of booze one last time.
Suddenly, a smile bloomed on Seok Du-myeong's face.
'Crazy bastards. Come sooner if you're coming— you waited till your guys dropped. Fucking dogs.'
He sensed the Murim Alliance strike force rapidly closing in.
The approaching cultists felt it too and halted.
They turned, readying for battle.
Even the frontmost one glared at Seok Du-myeong with lingering regret before wheeling about.
Deal with the Murim Alliance scouts first, then pursue.
This was Demonic Cult territory; Seok Du-myeong's group looked like fish in a net.
"Yeom-pal, Jo-hyeok, Seo-chil— let's bounce."
"Got it, bro."
"I'll carry the squad leader."
Jin Yeom-pal spoke up, and Seok Du-myeong pondered briefly before nodding.
"Yeah, you carry him, Yeom-pal."
"Woo-hoo!"
Soon, cheers from the Murim Alliance strike force echoed.
Moments later, clashing steel and screams mingled from that direction.
'Let those bastards kill each other.'
Seok Du-myeong glanced once, then turned and led the group away.
Jin Yeom-pal hoisted Squad Leader Jo Ja-muk onto his back.
Weak in inner power but strong as an ox, Jin Yeom-pal bore the sizable squad leader effortlessly.
Jo Ja-muk had passed out, limp from blood loss.
The survivors fled the battlefield with every ounce of strength.