Chapter 461 - Change (變).
Rumble-!
Massive lightning bolts struck down from the dark, scorched storm clouds.
Boom-! Boom, boom-!
Lightning fierce enough to leave one numb merely by watching poured down not once, but several times in succession.
Each time the lightning embedded itself in the ground, trees and rocks alike were shattered to pieces, reducing the surroundings to scorched wasteland.
The dry, twisted trees of Sacheon were ablaze from the lightning's recoil.
Amidst such chaos, the old man continued to swing his sword.
Swish, swish-swish-!
The blade continuously soared through the air.
At a speed no ordinary person could even track.
Countless sword strikes poured out by the second, and simultaneously, lightning fell without end.
Rumble-! Rumble-rumble-!
The stench of burning was thick. It was the foul odor of flesh being deeply seared.
Even sensing that, the old man did not stop.
So the flashes continued to pour down without rest.
By the time the old man finally stopped his sword, only a blackened wasteland remained.
"..."
The master of the lightning, the last of the Nanggung clan, Cheonjon, suppressed a slightly tired expression and sheathed his sword.
Having continuously poured lightning into one spot, he felt that his abundant internal energy had diminished somewhat.
Catching his breath, Cheonjon looked toward a certain spot.
There was a place that stood out particularly within the scorched black world.
A place where the ground had melted and was bubbling and boiling, where the aftereffects of the raging thunder still lingered.
Beyond the smoke filling the surroundings, Cheonjon glared with a furrowed brow.
As he stared intently for a moment, he sensed something writhing within the smoke.
"Tch."
Having confirmed this, Cheonjon clicked his tongue. At the same time, he swung his sword briefly.
Whoooosh-!
Wind pressure surged following the swung sword.
It was to clear away the smoke.
Swept away by the wind Cheonjon created, the smoke disappeared, and the hidden ground was revealed.
Something was crouched atop the melted, bubbling ground.
He saw a body dyed as black as the ground, with flames burning across its form.
'Still.'
Even now, those blue flames had not gone out.
Looking at 'that thing' slumped over as if unconscious, gasping for breath, Cheonjon furrowed his brow.
He also had to express his disgust.
Just what was that thing?
'How bizarre.'
No matter how much he looked, he couldn't understand it.
Arms cut, legs cut, struck by lightning—after suffering all manner of torments, the bastard's body that Cheonjon saw now was perfectly intact.
Because it regenerated as if nothing had happened.
He had cut it countless times and then some, yet its body returned to its original state.
How could this be?
'What is its true nature?'
Calling it a demon was ambiguous, and calling it a human was impossible.
He had tried desperately to ascertain its identity, but even that failed.
Bizarre and strange.
Such was the gaze Cheonjon directed at the bastard.
To be so intact after taking such lightning strikes. Such a tenacious bastard.
However.
Shhhing.
Cheonjon vibrated the tip of his sword as he thought.
No matter how much he cut, it regenerated endlessly, so it seemed hopeless, yet Cheonjon realized the bastard had a weakness.
While it took all other attacks, there was one part it particularly avoided and tried to protect.
'The neck.'
The neck, precisely.
The bastard had covered and tried to protect its own neck during battle.
Seeing that, the weakness was most likely the neck.
Furthermore.
Its left chest had a hole pierced through it, gaping wide open.
That was probably the trace from when Cheonjon had pierced its heart.
Though he didn't know why it remained in such a state.
Grrrr....
A low, beastly growl.
At the sound piercing his ears, Cheonjon altered his movements.
It was coming.
Kyaaaaaa-!
The bastard that had been gasping for breath roared savagely and charged at Cheonjon once more.
Still fast.
The azure flame spewing from behind its back split at the ends, dividing in all directions to press in on Cheonjon.
Seeing that, Cheonjon furrowed his brow.
Because merely looking at it made one shoulder throb.
'So that flame is the problem.'
The wound he had taken from the bastard shortly before still ached.
It wasn't just aching.
Immediately after his shoulder was hit, his arm wouldn't move as if paralyzed.
Even when he tried to undo it with internal energy or use that energy to force movement, it was stiff and hard as stone.
It wouldn't loosen.
What in the world was this about?
Fwoosh-!
Flames brushed past Cheonjon's side.
Though they barely grazed him, Cheonjon immediately felt his body grow heavy.
Feeling that, he clicked his tongue briefly.
'Annoying.'
In the first place, the very fact that he was grazed by such an attack was impossible.
There was definitely something wrong with those flames.
Throb.
Feeling his throbbing shoulder, he contorted his expression.
This seemed to be the biggest problem.
Drip....
Blood flowed from his shoulder, dripping drop by drop from his fingertips.
He had tried somehow to stop the bleeding using internal energy, but it hadn't worked.
"You bastard."
Keeen.
He unleashed a brilliant sword beam and raised his fighting spirit high.
The sight of himself struggling against nothing more than such a bastard was truly pathetic.
What would Wi Hyogun have said if he saw this? He surely would have mocked him.
What would that Paejon bastard have said?
Would he have looked at him with pity?
Click.
Keeeen-!
The sword cry from Cheonjon's blade resounded without ceasing.
"Grrrr...!"
Along with the roars, the onslaught continued.
As if it never tired, its movements never stopped.
Clang-!
It was far too harsh a sound to be fingertips clashing with a sword.
Cheonjon parried the attack. The bastard's steps shifted slightly backward. Without missing the opportunity, he swung his sword.
Slash-!
"Kyaaaak!"
Its wrist was severed, and the bastard let out a scream.
Cheonjon readjusted his grip. The moment he tried to slash into its chest.
Fwoosh-!
"...!"
He saw flames gathering in the bastard's gaping maw.
Cheonjon hurriedly moved his body upon seeing that. The moment he twisted away to create distance.
BOOOOM-!
The flames spewing from the bastard's mouth covered where Cheonjon had originally been.
An enormous heat.
'Well, well.'
Watching the heat filling the air, Cheonjon tugged up the corner of his mouth.
He was certain.
That was a demon. It couldn't be anything other than a demon.
'A demon wearing human skin?'
Even when Cheonjon had first attacked the Red Demon, it hadn't been this difficult.
He had only needed to pour out internal energy, but this bastard was even worse.
With its endlessly regenerating body and tremendous firepower, it was hard to see as human.
Rather, wasn't it right to view it as a new type or grade of demon?
A white-grade demon spoken of only in legends.
'If that thing were to appear, wouldn't it feel something like this?' Cheonjon thought inwardly.
If not for that, there was no way he should be struggling like this.
It had to be so.
"Kyaaa!"
A roar was heard.
Cheonjon drew his sword in a diagonal line.
Rumble-!
Lightning struck from the air and bound the bastard's feet.
"Kruaaa!"
Its body burned black from the lightning as it screamed.
In time with that, Cheonjon examined the bastard. Then nodded shortly.
This much was enough.
Shhhing.
As he corrected his stance, Cheonjon's energy flow changed.
And.
A sword rose sharply within his mind.
No, it wasn't sharp. Having been dulled and worn by the inner demon.
For now, this much was enough.
No matter how much his movements had slowed and his internal energy had decreased somewhat.
Cheonjon did not entertain the possibility of defeat.
He had merely been trying to gather information about the unknown bastard.
"Kyaaaa!"
In the opening while the bastard writhed in the lightning, roaring to its heart's content.
Cheonjon's blade and body were aligned in a straight line. This single strike was not the realm of internal energy or mastery.
It was the realm of enlightenment as a swordsman, and nothing else.
A sword containing the enlightenment of an old man who had trained in the sword his whole life as a once-in-a-century prodigy.
It was obvious that mere vermin wearing human skin could not withstand it.
'The games end here.'
The fact that he had been struck even once pained him to the bone, but Cheonjon tried to forget it for a moment.
Because now was not the time to be facing this thing.
Cheonjon's last blood relative, lying alone with eyes closed at the base of a tree.
The old man still had business with her.
While aiming at the neck of the bastard screaming incessantly, Cheonjon closed his eyes.
Closing his eyes, a cloying darkness came. Within that abundant darkness, Cheonjon found a single ray of light.
He could see it. Though blurred by the inner demon, he could clearly see the ray of light.
A point visible only with eyes closed.
Cheonjon slowly drew his sword toward that place.
Then Cheonjon's arm trembled.
It was all the more so because he was unleashing power based solely on the Mind Mirror (心鏡).
Kwoong-!
At that moment, the clouds above were sliced in a straight line, and light burst forth.
The heavens opened.
The light flying from beyond the opened heavens was shaped like a translucent sword.
A sword whose blade was chipped and somewhat rusted.
A presence that filled one with awe merely by beholding it.
The light gradually began to fall toward the creature.
Were it to directly strike the ground like this, its power was enough to erase not just the neck but the entire surrounding area.
Cheonjon had aimed for precisely that.
He had considered the possibility that the neck might not be the weakness, and thought of a way to erase that regenerative power in one blow.
Immediately after executing the martial art, Cheonjon slowly opened his eyes.
He then watched the light falling from the air and caught his breath.
"It is over."
He was certain.
He had used the Secret Technique of the Mind Sword based on ultimate enlightenment.
Until now, Cheonjon had only seen two people withstand this.
One was the Sword Sovereign.
And the other was the Heavenly Demon.
If not for those two, there was absolutely no way anyone could endure this power. Cheonjon was certain of it.
And so.
Kwoooong-!
The light slowly falling from the heavens struck exactly the point Cheonjon had targeted.
KWAAAAAA--!!
A deafening roar erupted as smoke surged high into the sky.
Shattered fragments toppled in all directions, and the wind pressure burst forth, tilting dry trees as if they would be uprooted.
An enormous impact.
Feeling the erupting energy, Cheonjon turned around.
It was over. If struck by that level of power, there was no way it could have endured.
He would have to head over there later to find traces.
But Cheonjon prioritized killing the Demon Sword Empress.
He would kill that child quickly and attain peace.
It was the permission he had received for that purpose.
Yes, permission.
Cheonjon had received permission.
Permission to enter the land of Sacheon, kill the young man, and kill the Demon Sword Empress....
Thud.
Cheonjon, who had been moving his feet, suddenly halted.
Because he felt his head growing dizzy.
'...From whom?'
From whom had he received such permission? Just who had given him that permission?
The memory felt like it was about to surface but refused to.
"Kuh...!"
Cheonjon covered his forehead and let out a groan. He felt as though he had forgotten something, yet nothing came to mind.
As if someone had intentionally excised a part of his memory.
"...What... in the world."
Just as Cheonjon was about to voice his anguish over this abnormality.
Rustle.
"...!"
Cheonjon turned around at the energy he had felt unwittingly. The old man's face was filled with shock.
'What...?'
Why could he feel energy?
That was where the Secret Technique of the Mind Sword had fallen. No living creature's energy should be felt there.
Oong-
Cheonjon gripped his sword once more.
It wasn't a delusion.
He could still feel the energy.
'Did it withstand this?'
Surely not, had it endured that power? That was impossible.
If it had endured even this, it would be more apt to call it immortal (不死).
While Cheonjon was looking beyond with narrowed eyes.
Fwoosh.
He felt those flames from before.
Fwoooosh-!
Blue flames blazed up once more in the distance.
Cheonjon steeled his mind against the unfolding situation.
It seemed it truly hadn't worked.
'You really are troublesome.'
If it had come to this, he must truly burn it down with all his might. Just as he resolved himself and tried to gather his energy,
"...Life."
"...?"
"Is truly a fucking bitch."
Unexpected profanity burst forth from within the flames.
"Fucking hell. I even found you a place to shit, and now you're asking me to wipe your ass too. This is why they say you shouldn't take in black-haired beasts...."
"..."
Cheonjon furrowed his brow at the somewhat rustic speech.
What? What was this situation?
Holding back his bewilderment, he looked toward the owner of the voice.
Thud.
Something was walking this way with slow steps.
It was that silhouette from before.
So it had been alive after all. Then did that mean this voice belonged to that bastard?
Its appearance wasn't very different from before.
It was still covered in something black, resembling a shadow.
If there was a slight difference, it was that the hole in its chest had closed up.
And the flames weren't blazing enough to cover its entire body.
Watching it trudge over, Cheonjon asked.
"...What in the world are you."
What was its identity, that it showed such a bizarre form?
Cheonjon asked those questions full of such doubt.
Hearing that, the bastard glanced at Cheonjon who had asked.
"That rude streak is a spitting image of that bastard Myeong."
"...?"
It began to spew words he couldn't understand.
Whether Cheonjon could understand them or not.
The figure merely spat out words in a voice laced with laughter.
"Just my rotten luck."
Fwoosh. Flames bloomed around the bastard.
Was it an illusion?
The spreading embers somehow resembled flower petals.
"This'll be worth a beating."