At Geom Mugeuk’s cold gaze, Gyocheon felt a chill in his chest. He was the Young Cult Leader, someone who should have been laughable to him. Perhaps it was because his words had struck home.
‘I should have come even madder?’
Looking at Geom Ujin standing vividly among those who had become corpses, he thought that perhaps he really should have.
Just as the Geom Ujin he had investigated was different from reality, that Young Cult Leader too felt different from the one he had investigated.
He knew it had been buried like a jest, but that figure looking at him, its face covered in blood, sent a cold wind blowing through his chest.
Gyocheon’s gaze naturally turned to Geom Ujin beside him.
‘Like father, like son, is that it?’
Meanwhile, Geom Ujin was looking at his son, whose face was stained with blood, with an expression of pity. Having only ever seen a stern Geom Ujin, this sight felt slightly unfamiliar.
Gyocheon did not know. That this change was precisely what occupied the greatest weight among the many reasons Geom Ujin had grown stronger. Because he did not know the process, only the result surprised him.
‘He is far stronger than the previous Cult Leader.’
How on earth? He knew better than anyone how difficult it was for martial artists of Cult Leader caliber to raise their martial prowess.
Gyocheon hid such doubts with effort and looked at the remaining experts.
Of the twelve experts, five were dead. Now seven remained.
“Whose turn is next?”
It was the will to push through the original plan to somehow exhaust his internal energy and kill him.
At that sight, Hyeolcheon Doma sighed inwardly.
His master was rigid. When the situation changed, the plan should change too. But his frozen mind thought only of pushing forward.
‘Will these men accomplish what the previous five could not?’
It was a moment when anyone would have hesitated, but one man strode out.
He was Gwangcheonsal. He was precisely the one who had first felt terror at the cry of the Cheonmageom earlier.
Yet now, his eyes overflowed with confidence.
He was one who had spent his life killing people like a madman starving for blood. At this moment, he realized that only that madness could save him.
‘Fear is your lot, not mine.’
Another person stepped forth beside Gwangcheonsal. It was Gwi Geomja, who had earlier been flustered when his ghost sword cried out in fear.
Gwangcheonsal and Gwi Geomja.
They had been symbols of terror in their respective domains.
His son had come, so it would have been natural to tell him to take one of them.
But Geom Ujin walked forward as if to say he would face them all himself.
Geom Mugeuk could feel it. That today’s battle was an important one for his father as well. That his father was settling that day.
All while being considerate of Hyeolcheon Doma’s heart.
Rather, it was a good opportunity for Geom Mugeuk.
He intended to commit the entirety of this battle, from beginning to end, to memory. So that, like replaying a match of Go, he could chew it over again and again to add to his own martial prowess.
Gwangcheonsal donned gauntlets made of steel on both fists.
His beloved weapon, the Lang Ya Tie Quan.
True to its name, sharp blades protruded from each knuckle like the fangs of a wolf. Judging by the flowing ethereal energy, it was not made of ordinary metal.
“With these fists, I have beaten to death all who offended my eyes!”
His voice, infused with internal energy, rang out loud and clear.
When he wore the Lang Ya Tie Quan, he changed. Because his fists remembered. All those countless people he had killed.
‘I can win! I’ll kill the Cult Leader and chew him up alive!’
Madness erupted from his eyes.
Geom Ujin, who had been silently watching him, sheathed the Cheonmageom.
Then he gestured for him to come closer.
A challenge to fight with bare fists.
Gwangcheonsal smiled with confidence. If it was Lang Ya Tie Quan against bare hands, he was sure he could stand a chance even against the Cult Leader.
Huaaaaaang!
His steel fist flew toward Geom Ujin with tremendous force.
Kuang Ren Sha Ji.
It was the move he was most confident in.
Geom Ujin likewise threw a fist and charged.
Fist against fist.
Gwangcheonsal poured every ounce of his internal energy into this fist.
‘The one shattering will be your fist!’
Gyocheon hoped. Even if that blow could not kill Geom Ujin, he wished it would inflict internal injuries. That it would exhaust his internal energy as much as possible.
But Geom Ujin absolutely never fought the way his opponent predicted.
Just before fist clashed against fist, at that final moment, Geom Ujin twisted his body.
The instant the fist carrying tremendous force grazed his face, Geom Ujin had already burrowed into Gwangcheonsal’s chest.
‘Damn it!’
He had never imagined the Heavenly Demon would avoid a frontal clash, and Geom Ujin’s movement—evading and penetrating—was too fast and exquisite.
Gwangcheonsal raised his protective astral energy over his entire body, preparing for Geom Ujin’s blow.
But no powerful blow came flying.
The very instant their gazes met!
Tap.
Geom Ujin lightly struck Gwangcheonsal’s head. An act that seemed to say, ‘Get a grip, you bastard!’
Gwangcheonsal’s face twisted viciously.
‘You dare mock me?’
Even if he had been struck hard, he would never have fallen. His protective astral energy had been guarding even his head perfectly.
Or so he had thought.
“Kghhh!”
Gwangcheonsal let out a bizarre scream as he tried to launch a second attack and toppled backward.
With his eyes rolled back white, he was already dead. His outward appearance was intact. There were no wounds, no bleeding.
He died without ever knowing.
That Geom Ujin was not someone who simply tapped his opponent’s head in a fight. That if he tapped it, there was a clear reason.
That blow, light as a tap, gently penetrated the opponent’s protective astral energy and, only later, became a great shockwave that completely overturned his brain.
It was Geom Ujin’s Nei Jia Zhong Shou Fa, a martial art that injured the interior by striking the exterior, pushed to its extreme.
Not only Gwi Geomja, who had stepped out together, but Gyocheon and the other experts—all their faces were filled with shock.
They would have been less surprised if Geom Ujin’s fist had shattered the iron gauntlets.
Just as when he had killed the previous five, Geom Ujin did not show off his strength. He focused solely on how to kill his enemies most efficiently. He was an absolute being who did not let his guard down, an absolute being who used his head.
He used the Jiu Hua Mo Gong boldly when he had to, and killed with so little internal energy like this as well. While completely immersed in his own fight, on the other hand, it seemed as though he were showing his son.
My son, if you must fight twelve absolute experts in a Wheel Battle, fight like this.
The ghost sword in Gwi Geomja’s hand began to wail like a ghost’s cry. A mournful, eerie wail, as though foreseeing someone’s fate.
He had not merely been watching while Gwangcheonsal died.
He had been preparing to unleash his supreme ultimate technique by raising his internal energy. Because he had seen again and again that if he did not do so on the first move, he would never get to unleash it.
Chwaaaaang!
Jet-black ghostly energy burst from his sword and poured down upon Geom Ujin.
Gui Jian Hun Yuan Zhan!
The ghostly energy whipped around Geom Ujin like a tornado.
It looked as though a giant black serpent would coil around Geom Ujin’s body and burst him apart.
‘It worked!’
As the first move landed, Gwi Geomja raised his internal energy to the extreme.
‘Cult Leader! Burst and die just like this!’
The swirling black energy tightened further around Geom Ujin, and his figure could no longer be seen.
Expectation flashed in the eyes of Gyocheon and the other experts.
‘Even if it doesn’t kill him, he’ll suffer great internal injuries!’
It was precisely then.
Sssssssk!
Light seeped through the black tornado.
As though the sea parted, the black energy split, and something shot out.
It was the Cheonmageom, shimmering with pure white demonic energy.
At that sight, the ghost sword wailed even louder. It was a cry of astonishment and shock reflecting its master’s heart.
The next moment, a rain of sword energy poured from the sky.
Jiu Hua Mo Gong, Fifth Form: Jue Hun Mo Ji.
Because it had attacked as though giving warning, Gwi Geomja threw his body aside and instinctively dodged the sword energy falling toward the crown of his head.
‘I dodged it!’
But his joy was short-lived. The falling sword energy was not a single strike.
Puak!
Another blade of sword energy falling from the sky pierced his shoulder.
Puaaak!
A following strike impaled the crown of his head.
Over his body, which had collapsed dead on the spot, sword energy continued to fall in intervals.
Puuk! Puuk!
Originally, the Jue Hun Mo Ji was an attack that simultaneously rained sword energy down upon the crowns of several heads. He had even trained together with Geom Mugeuk to rescue hostages with it.
This time, that attack was concentrated solely around Gwi Geomja. With delays between strikes so that it was absolutely impossible to dodge.
Geom Mugeuk understood.
The decisive difference from his own Jue Hun Mo Ji was neither the number of falling sword energies nor their power.
The intervals.
His father’s Jue Hun Mo Ji predicted the situation in which the opponent would dodge and fell with intervals.
Geom Mugeuk knew better than anyone how difficult a realm this was.
‘Could I truly evade my father’s Jue Hun Mo Ji?’
Geom Mugeuk could not dare guarantee it.
‘It is a realm I must definitely achieve. No, I must ascend to a realm even higher than this.’
For if he ascended, his father would ascend as well.
When Gwi Geomja collapsed in a mangled heap, the black tornado swirling around Geom Ujin vanished in an instant.
Gyocheon’s face hardened even further.
No matter how strong, this was absurd. Gwangcheonsal and Gwi Geomja dying in a single move each? What plan could one possibly devise against such an opponent? The words that rose in his mind now were not “greatest under heaven,” but “greatest in history.”
Geom Ujin asked him.
“Will you step forward yourself now?”
Geom Ujin still treated him with courtesy. Because Hyeolcheon Doma still considered him his master.
To his master, who was glaring at Geom Ujin in silence, Hyeolcheon Doma spoke.
“It is not too late even now.”
At that, Gyocheon snorted, looking at those who had become corpses.
“You say that even after seeing them?”
“The dead are the dead, and the living must live. Even now, admit your wrongs to the Cult Leader.”
Gyocheon felt it. That unlike the Cult Leader or the Young Cult Leader, only his disciple wished somehow for him to survive.
Yet even feeling that, kind words did not leave his mouth.
“You traitor, pretending to care for me before the Cult Leader.”
Hyeolcheon Doma made no excuses for him. Geom Ujin merely watched him in silence.
It was Geom Mugeuk who took his place.
“That is enough.”
Everyone’s gaze turned to Geom Mugeuk. At first, they thought he was speaking to Gyocheon—to tell him to stop. But those words were directed not at Gyocheon, but at Hyeolcheon Doma.
“You have done enough, Elder.”
Since the Cult Leader was present, Hyeolcheon Doma replied courteously.
“Young Cult Leader, please do not interfere.”
“No, this is a problem the parties themselves cannot resolve.”
Geom Mugeuk knew. If Gyocheon died again today, it would once again remain as a deep wound in Hyeolcheon Doma’s heart. For it would mean his master dying before his eyes a second time.
“Your master will pretend until the end that he does not know your heart. Only then will this act he has committed gain justification.”
At that, Gyocheon shouted furiously.
“Silence! What do you know!”
Compared to the agitated Gyocheon, Geom Mugeuk was calm.
“You keep speaking of betrayal, but by that logic, did you not also betray the main cult? If your disciple betrayed you, you should have sought revenge on the disciple alone; why did you drag my father into it? Why did you seek to tarnish the cult’s honor and start a war with the orthodox faction? Why did you drag even your own disciple into it?”
Battered by this torrent of rebukes, Gyocheon could not immediately retort, and Geom Mugeuk’s offensive continued.
“To be honest, your disciple’s betrayal is not what matters to you, is it? Rather, you thought it worked out well—since it has come to this, let us seize the entire martial world. Is that not the heart with which you have been expanding your forces?”
Geom Mugeuk’s gaze turned to the remaining experts.
“What did you promise them? That you would swallow up both the orthodox and unorthodox factions through sowing discord, and what would you give them?”
The moment he heard those words, Hyeolcheon Doma felt it. That his master might truly have harbored such intentions. That the scheme to sow discord with the orthodox faction might not have been merely for revenge. That he might have gathered the ambitions of these old villains to fulfill a dream he had never achieved.
“So stop using betrayal as an excuse now.”
Geom Mugeuk actually did not know well what was in his heart. Nor did he wish to know.
Yet the reason he drove him into a corner was not to attack him. It was for Hyeolcheon Doma.
He was telling him not to dwell on the past. That his master was not a man worth such regard.
Geom Mugeuk looked at Hyeolcheon Doma and spoke.
“Are you sorry to your Master? No, the one you should be sorry to is not your Master, but your disciple, Elder.”
“!”
“Because he took the risk alone for the sake of this worthless master-disciple bond. For such a Master, your disciple came here alone. That fearful and timid disciple of yours.”
Hyeolcheon Doma’s pupils trembled. Preoccupied with his master and the Cult Leader, he had not been able to pay any attention to Seo Daeryong.
“If this is the master-disciple bond to which you should attach meaning, do you still remain here?”
Hyeolcheon Doma turned his head and looked at Gyocheon.
Gyocheon looked at him coldly, but Hyeolcheon Doma’s gaze as he looked back was still burning.
After gazing at each other like that for a long while, he finally conveyed his last sentiments.
“You are right. It was not because of my Master, but to lessen my own guilt that I did it. That is why I wanted to save you. That is why…… I am even more sorry.”
Gyocheon’s gaze flickered.
“I will see you off on your final journey. That guilt, I will carry it for the rest of my life. It was trying to cast aside what I should have carried that caused the problem, was it not.”
As if it were a final farewell in his capacity as a master, he bowed politely with propriety.
Only then did he answer Geom Mugeuk’s question.
“The place where I must attach meaning is not here.”
Though his earlier words had trembled, the words that followed were resolute.
“From now on, I have only one master-disciple relationship.”
Geom Mugeuk looked at Hyeolcheon Doma and smiled brightly.
‘Elder!’
There was a reason he had pushed him like this.
Because Gyocheon had to hear these words before he died. After Gyocheon died, Hyeolcheon Doma would never have been able to say what he had just said. A fight with a dead person is the most difficult fight in the world.
Even someone this smart and wise, once entangled in wounds of the past, cannot easily escape from them.
Past wounds have nothing to do with present intelligence. No, rather, the smarter one is, the harder it may be to break free.
Hyeolcheon Doma too looked at Geom Mugeuk and smiled faintly.
‘Thank you.’
‘Elder, hurry back and sit side by side reading books at that sunny windowsill.’
Geom Woojin looked at Geom Mugeuk and nodded slightly.
It was evident from his expression. That his father had praised him for doing well. His father too had hoped that no emotional wound would remain in Hyeolcheon Doma.
Now with a refreshed expression, Geom Woojin turned toward the enemy.
He locked eyes with one white-haired old man among the remaining five experts.
“It has been a while.”
Then the old man asked with a surprised face.
“Do you remember me?”
Geom Woojin nodded.
“What a remarkable memory. I saw you when you were very young.”
Surprisingly, he was a Demon of the Heavenly Demon Cult.
Honma (Mixed Demon).
The old man was a retired Demon of the Heavenly Demon Cult. Possessing great skill, he had held several key positions within the cult. And he had been a man with deep ties to Gyocheon at the time.
“I had no choice because of an urgent request.”
Geom Woojin asked bluntly.
“Did you know this was a scheme targeting me?”
After a brief pause, Honma answered.
“I knew.”
Geom Woojin no longer tried to converse with him. Because this betrayal was far worse in nature than Gyocheon’s.
“Then there was no need for you to step forth.”
As Hyeolcheon Doma settled his heart, Geom Woojin too began to clean up in earnest.
A fiend silently revealed itself before Geom Woojin.
It was a fiend with a more terrifying and more intense impression than the fiend of the Annihilation Rite shown earlier.
Sssssssh.
The fiend began to divide.
This was precisely the reason he had said there was no need to come out.
“Die together there.”