Prologue.
Every territory on the continent of Truvenia, where we live, is a world created by the breath of the Chief God, Verhazel.
After creating the continent, the god brought forth numerous races. The elves, race of the forests; the dwarves, outstanding blacksmiths; the orcs, incarnations of vengeance. And all manner of monsters, imperfect beings besides.
After creating each race in turn, Verhazel made dragons the watchers who would regulate them, breathing life and power into their bodies. He then bestowed upon them a mighty power with which they could control the conflicts between the races. That power was the authority known as magic.
Once the order of the world had been established, Verhazel created humans last of all—the race most resembling the gods. The god swore to personally watch over humans and all the other races for eternity, and as proof of that vow, entrusted each race with a Covenant Stone, created by the god’s own hands.
So long as they possessed it, each race could receive Verhazel’s blessing wherever and whenever they wished.
Each race was required to cherish and preserve its stone in the deepest and most secret of places. It was the most important treasure of all, for it determined the rise and fall of their race. Afterward, the races spread throughout the continent of Truvenia and began to live their lives in their own ways, mingling together in harmony without killing one another.
The humans of ancient times possessed a profound faith in Verhazel. It is said that, in accordance with the god’s will, they lived peacefully for a long time alongside the various humanoid races. With the elves’ permission, they cleared the mountains; they received farming tools from the dwarves and meat from the orcs, who were exceptional hunters. Thus they lived in harmony, without a single dispute between the races. It may be impossible even to imagine now, but that period lasted a very, very long time.
However, after the long age of peace passed, the seeds of conflict began to sprout between the races.
It was a problem that had never arisen while the land was vast. The question of territory had emerged. To accommodate their rapidly increasing populations, the races had no choice but to trespass upon the territories of others. The races that most desperately desired territorial expansion were the humans and the orcs. The two most prosperous and populous races began to stealthily encroach upon the lands of the others. The ugly quarrels that had begun over the securing of territory eventually spread to every corner of the continent.
Verhazel’s intentions had, by then, gone completely awry. It was none other than the humans who had kindled the spark. Through their actions, wars of conquest began, spreading uncontrollably as the flames of war covered every corner of the continent. For no less than fifty years...
The war of conquest, which caused countless lives to wither away, ultimately ended in victory for the humans. After countless fierce battles, the humans succeeded in defeating the orcs and driving them beyond the Pelusia Mountains. Over the vast territories they had seized, the humans were able to savor the joy of victory without restraint.
But the reward was not the sweet and bountiful fruit they had anticipated. What the humans received was nothing less than merciless retribution. For defying the command to live in peace, the humans incurred Verhazel’s wrath. The god ensured that the spark of conflict would never be extinguished, but would instead continue to cycle endlessly, and arranged for them to suffer three great calamities as the price for starting the territorial wars.
The first was discord among humans, and the second was the war against the Army of Darkness brought about by the descent of the Demon King. After enduring every manner of hardship, the humans managed to overcome the first two crises.
But the final crisis would come as a trial too great for human ability to withstand. It was the total intervention of the dragons, “beings born to regulate the races.” Humans, you must realize how insignificant you are. Then fall to your knees and worship. There is no other way to soothe Verhazel’s wrath.
—From “A Warning to Humans” by Hwirinparina,
the Grand Pontiff of the Verhazel Faith a hundred years ago—
The sun was quietly sinking over the fields.
An eerie silence transformed into a terror that clutched at the heart and came rushing in. Though the surroundings were quiet, it was easy to tell from the state of the land that this place had been anything but peaceful until only moments ago.
The scene spread across the field could be summed up in a single phrase.
A mountain of corpses and a sea of blood.
Corpses with split-open heads and spilling entrails lay strewn across the field. From their fully exposed intestines, steam still rose in wisps, making it clear that these people had been alive only moments earlier. Every one of them lay dead with a broken weapon clenched in hand. Judging by the fact that they had not let go of their weapons until the moment of death, it was not difficult to infer that they were martial artists—far from ordinary men.
It was the closing years of the Song dynasty, a time when countless sects founded by numerous masters engaged in endless bouts to prove the superiority of their martial arts. Nor was that all: full-scale clashes of strength between sects had become widespread. This was the golden age of the martial world, when the sects had grown so powerful that even the government could do nothing but stand by and watch their confrontations. Considering the circumstances of the era, finding corpses strewn across a field like this was hardly unusual. Clashes of strength between sects were taking place countless times throughout the Central Plains. Yet one thing was strange: most of the corpses scattered here bore the same insignia. Their clothing differed somewhat, but every corpse had the emblem of an asura engraved upon its chest. From the way they lay dead with swords buried in one another’s chests, it was obvious at a glance that they had slaughtered each other.
The sect that used the emblem of an asura in the martial world was none other than the Apostate Cult. A mighty sect whose bizarre sorcery and strange, vicious martial arts placed it shoulder to shoulder with the martial world’s great power, the Demon Cult.
But how had the warriors of a single organization—the Apostate Cult—come to slaughter one another? The person who could reveal the answer was slowly emerging from a corner of the ghastly scene.
Ssssss.
The man who appeared, as though he had suddenly come into existence on that very spot, was a middle-aged man in his forties, his entire body caked in blood. He appeared to have suffered severe injuries, for his face was twisted in pain.
“Th-this is wrong. The Heavenly Son Blood Demon Art has already begun to break down.”
He was short and slight, with a back bent grotesquely out of shape, making him appear to be a hunchback. Yet strangely, an authority capable of forcing thousands to bow radiated from his body. It was the natural dignity one might expect only from an absolute ruler who commanded an entire organization.
“Urgh.”
The man vomited up a mouthful of blood and slowly raised his head. The evening glow shone brightly upon his face. The face revealed by the light was, in a word, hideous. Narrow eyes stretched into ugly slits and slanted sharply upward. An aquiline nose twisted grotesquely. The corners of his mouth curved upward, giving him an exceedingly mean appearance. His features were utterly at odds with the aura of an absolute ruler emanating from his entire body.
Strangely, however, the man’s eyes were crystal clear. His body was drenched in blood, and with the sunset shining directly upon him, his appearance was so grotesque that he hardly looked human. Yet nothing could obscure the clarity of his gaze. But that, too, lasted only for a moment. His eyes gradually began to burn red. They were filled with rage directed at someone.
“There’s no time to stand around. I have to get out of here before the Heavenly Son Blood Demon Art completely breaks down.”
The man was about to hurl himself away when he abruptly stopped and stared at a certain spot. There lay a miserable corpse, pierced through by several swords. It was a body that could only be described as a lump of blood and flesh. The man’s gaze suddenly softened with deep affection.
“Jongniryeong. Even you...”
The corpse lying there had been the man’s most trusted retainer, his one irreplaceable aide. Even when everyone else had turned their backs on him, that loyal retainer had remained steadfastly faithful alongside his subordinates. Judging by the state of the corpse, Jongniryeong had clearly resisted his enemies until the very moment of his death. Bloody tears slowly began to flow from the corners of the man’s eyes.
“Jongniryeong, and the Guardian Demon King Army. I will never forget your sacrifice until the moment I, Dokgoseong, die.”
Then, breaking the silence, a chilling voice rang out.
“Heh heh heh. I’m sorry, Cult Master, but that will never happen.”
At the same time, dozens of figures appeared in the area. Like the man, they seemed to materialize out of thin air. Every one of them had the emblem of an asura engraved upon their chests, and the murderous hostility burning from them made it clear that they were no ordinary men. The one at the front, apparently their leader, possessed unusually red eyes. It was a phenomenon that occurred when one mastered a particular form of sorcery to its utmost extreme. The red-eyed man, his expression hard and obstinate, coldly addressed the man who still had his back turned.
“The Cult Master has mastered our sect’s sorcery to a realm unprecedented throughout history. We of the Red Eyebrow Hall suffered quite a bit while hiding ourselves because of that. We already knew that your Heavenly Son Blood Demon Art had begun to break down. Thinking you could not have gone far, we lay in wait here for several days, and my prediction proved correct. Judging by the situation, it is certain that Your Excellency will meet his end at the Red Eyebrow Hall.”
After speaking at length, the red-eyed man glanced at the man’s reaction. But the man did not move at all, merely staring intently at the corpse before him. The red-eyed man drew a breath before continuing.
“Stop being needlessly stubborn and surrender quietly, Cult Master. If you are captured by those orthodox sect bastards, your end will be even more miserable. The entire martial world is already pursuing you, and there is nowhere left for you to flee. So stop thinking of running. The Chief Strategist is racking his brains to find a way to save the Cult Master’s life. If fortune favors you, you may yet survive.”
At the mention of the Chief Strategist, the man’s gaze began to blaze fiercely. The person the red-eyed man had named was none other than the one responsible for reducing him to his current state.
The Apostate Cult’s Chief Strategist, Sajunhwan!
He was widely reputed to be the greatest strategist in the entire martial world. Fifty years earlier, he had taken the Apostate Cult—a powerless tiger with its fangs pulled—and through his genius and resourcefulness raised it into a sect capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with the Demon Cult. The Zhuge Liang of the Sa family. Those were the words by which the martial world described Sajunhwan, the Apostate Cult’s Chief Strategist.
But to Dokgoseong, the Chief Strategist was now nothing more than a traitor. A despicable traitor who had stabbed him in the back when he least expected it.
Until now, Dokgoseong had never once doubted Sajunhwan’s loyalty. On the contrary, he had regarded him as no different from a father, and so the sense of betrayal Dokgoseong felt was all the greater. Of course, the favors Sajunhwan had shown him were not things to be taken lightly. But every one of them had been a thoroughly calculated act. From beginning to end.
In Dokgoseong’s ears, trembling from head to toe, the red-eyed man’s chilling voice continued to ring.
“There is no time, Cult Master. It is time for you to make your decision.”
Dokgoseong’s body gradually stopped trembling. Slowly, he turned around. A fierce, blazing light poured from his eyes upon the red-eyed man.
“So you refuse. Prepare yourselves.”
The red-eyed man saw Dokgoseong’s gaze and issued the order to respond without the slightest hesitation. From that alone, there could be no doubt that even if Dokgoseong had surrendered willingly, he would not have survived.
The moment the order was given, dozens of hostile warriors formed a sword formation and advanced upon Dokgoseong. As warriors of the Red Eyebrow Hall, the Apostate Cult’s external execution unit, their movements were precise enough to have been measured with a ruler. Bizarre weapons, never before seen or heard of, were leveled at Dokgoseong alone. An ordinary martial artist of the jianghu would certainly have been hard-pressed to withstand such an attack. But Dokgoseong was no ordinary martial artist. He had led countless warriors across battlefields for many years, waging fierce struggles against the orthodox martial world, and had crowned most of those battles with victory...
Was he not the absolute ruler who had raised the Heretical Cult to its current position? For that reason, the warriors attacking him could feel cold sweat trickling down their entire bodies. Though they were acting under orders, the Cult Leader, Dokgo Seong, was precisely the sort of man they never wished to cross swords with.
The Red-Brow Hall Lord, who had issued the order, was especially tense. Watching his opponent’s reaction, he stealthily drew a signal flare from inside his robes. In truth, if the Cult Leader put his mind to it, it was absurd to think that he and the Red-Brow Hall alone could stand against him. Though he had greedily sought credit and mobilized only the organization under his command to act independently, it was obvious that they would be unable to withstand him in a direct confrontation.
He wanted only one thing: for Cult Leader Dokgo Seong to abandon all hope and surrender quietly. Unfortunately, judging by the situation, there seemed to be no chance of that whatsoever.
“My contribution may be reduced somewhat, but it can’t be helped. Better safe than sorry...”
He hurriedly tried to pull the cord of the signal flare. The area nearby had already been covered by a vast net of heaven and earth laid out by the experts pursuing the Cult Leader. The moment the signal flare went off, reinforcements would swarm over like bees, and his subordinates were more than capable of buying that much time. The Red-Brow Hall Lord no longer hesitated and pulled the cord.
Fwoosh—!
With a shrill, tearing sound, the signal flare shot high into the sky, scattering sparks. Yet before its sound had even faded, screams erupted simultaneously from all directions.
“Gaaaaah!”
“Ugh!”
The Red-Brow Hall Lord’s eyes, which had been fixed on the rising flare, widened sharply. The crimson radiance that had been undulating in his pupils was gradually becoming drenched in terror.
Night had fallen, but countless torches brightly illuminated the surroundings. Corpses still lay scattered here and there, but there was one difference: their number had increased somewhat. The Red-Brow Hall Lord was among them. Only moments ago, he had been wearing a triumphant smile; now he was a corpse lying on the cold ground. His chest had been horribly crushed, and his eyes were stretched wide as though he still could not believe what had happened.
“Am I too late?”
A cold voice suddenly rang out from amid the torches. Its owner was a middle-aged man of exceptionally refined appearance. The crane-patterned robe draped over his body suited him perfectly. His elegant features could be described in a single phrase: the countenance of an immortal. With sharp eyes, he surveyed the corpses of the members of the Red-Brow Hall.
Each corpse had fallen in concentric circles, thick blood flowing from all seven orifices. Several men in gray robes examined the dead and began their report.
“They all died from a single blow. Judging by the condition of the bodies, it seems Cult Leader Dokgo has begun using his true origin qi.”
At those words, the middle-aged man gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
“To slaughter one of the Heretical Cult’s elite forces, the Red-Brow Hall, in less than half an incense stick’s time, and then flee... Was his attachment to life truly so strong?”
“Should we not hurry after him?”
A deep voice came from behind him. The middle-aged man shook his head as though that was not necessary.
“There’s no need. He is already like a rat trapped in a jar. It isn’t only us who have laid a vast net here—the orthodox sects have done so as well. They intend to capture a man officially recognized as a demonic fiend. There is nowhere in all the Central Plains for him to hide.”
A black-faced middle-aged man with a thick beard, reminiscent of Zhang Fei, nodded and added,
“I see. But I am still somewhat bewildered. To ally ourselves with the orthodox bastards we were fighting to the death against only yesterday? And now we are pursuing someone who was the Cult Leader until yesterday?”
The middle-aged man smiled faintly.
“There are no eternal enemies or allies in the martial world. Even yesterday’s enemy can become today’s companion. What we need now is stability. Now that we have driven out Cult Leader Dokgo, our eyesore, it is time to join hands with the orthodox bastards, whether we like it or not, and keep the Demonic Cult in check.”
A trace of regret passed through the middle-aged man’s eyes. He had endured and bided his time for several decades in order to seize the position of absolute ruler of the Heretical Cult. At last, his efforts were about to bear fruit. His name was Sa Junhwan. The Heretical Cult’s hidden power, officially recognized as the greatest strategist in the martial world, he was also the one who had directed this entire situation from the shadows.
He had finally revealed the ambition he had concealed for so long and begun to act.
“There is no need to hurry. If we become unnecessarily impatient, we might ruin everything at the very end...”
Sa Junhwan cast a profound gaze over the surrounding shadows. Every one of them was an important power leading the Heretical Cult. But before that, they were all Sa Junhwan’s trusted followers. Thus, he could reveal everything in his heart without reservation. He secretly erected a barrier of sword qi to ensure that no one could eavesdrop, then cautiously opened his mouth.
“Before long, our reign over the world will begin. Starting with Cult Leader Dokgo, I will subjugate the Demonic Cult and the Nine Great Sect one after another. Since the Heretical Cult’s powerful forces have already become mine, there is nothing left to worry about. From now on, you will all be able to share wealth and glory with me until the day you die.”
At Sa Junhwan’s confident declaration, his subordinates cheered softly. The arduous days they had endured alongside the Chief Strategist... Their reward had finally arrived before their eyes.
“We have experts deployed over a wide area in pursuit, so his trail will soon be exposed. But...”
Sa Junhwan’s expression grew troubled as he continued.
“Did you discover anything about those we found and killed a little while ago?”
The black-faced middle-aged man immediately stepped forward and reported,
“Nothing has been discovered yet. We only learned that they were blue-eyed foreigners and wore clothing not commonly seen in this region. Two of those discovered died on the spot. One was still breathing, but we could not communicate with him at all. Given the circumstances, we had no choice but to kill him and silence him.”
Sa Junhwan’s brows drew together slightly.
“Their concealment technique was truly extraordinary. They hid even their presence perfectly... If I had not heard their breathing, even I would never have noticed them. What sort of people are they? Since they are blue-eyed foreigners, could they perhaps have come from the Potala Palace in Xizang?”
Sa Junhwan could not continue his train of thought. From the distance, a signal flare shot high into the sky with another shrill, tearing sound. It had been launched from a place some distance away.
“They must have found him. Let’s go!”
No sooner had Sa Junhwan finished speaking than the shadows vanished from their places. Judging from the fact that every one of them employed an advanced movement technique, it was not difficult to infer that they were all peak-level experts.
Their movements had been so fast that only Sa Junhwan’s final words remained in the area, drifting about like an aftersound.
“We must kill the Cult Leader before he is captured by the orthodox sects. Hurry.”
After they departed, silence once again descended over the area. Nothing remained but the corpses strewn about in disarray.
Yet not long after they left, voices once again began to murmur throughout the area. The words, spoken softly and cautiously, were astonishingly not in the language of the Central Plains. It was an unfamiliar tongue that no one in this land used. More astonishing still, the voices were ringing out from empty space.
“Ha! Truly amazing. There was no trace of magic being used anywhere, yet they concealed themselves so quickly.”
“Given the circumstances, it would be best to proceed cautiously. Several mages have already been discovered and lost their lives. Judging by that, those people seem to possess superhuman abilities when it comes to sensing human presence. They found mages who had cast Invisibility so easily. If we had not activated Hide Mana Force, we would not have escaped unscathed either.”
“It cannot be helped. Some sacrifice is unavoidable if we are to resolve the crisis that has befallen our homeland. Thanks to this, have we not learned that the swordsmanship of the warriors here is far more formidable than that of our homeland? We have been here for barely a day, yet have we not already encountered several people at the Master level? I mean those rare Sword Masters.”
The voices ringing through the empty air gradually became tinged with a certain emotion.
“To protect our continent from the Dragon’s grasp, we must somehow recruit the most powerful swordsman here and take him with us. Someone equal to, or even stronger than, the Grand Duke of Krosen of Arcadia.”
“But that will not be easy. The swordsmen here are unbelievably cruel and extremely belligerent. The fact that they mercilessly kill mages who approach them to negotiate is proof enough. It will likely not be easy to speak with them.”
“Even if it is impossible, we must do it. For the future of our homeland...”
Along with the resolute words, several shadows slowly appeared in the empty air. They wore strange clothing not found in this land and were, unexpectedly, blue-eyed foreigners.
Wrapped completely in hooded robes, they hurriedly began searching the surroundings. They did so to guard against any ambush that might be lying in wait.
There were only corpses strewn everywhere, and no presence could be detected. Once they had confirmed that there was no danger, one of them spoke in a low voice. He was an old man with a white beard who appeared to be the leader of the group. Unusually, he wore priestly robes embroidered with a flame pattern.
“Now, let us hurry. We must memorize Invisibility and Hide Mana Force once more so that we are not discovered.”
At those words, a blue-eyed middle-aged man opened his mouth in shock. Judging by his voice, he seemed to be the one who had been speaking with the old man. Since he wore a robe, he appeared to be a mage.
“Th-then, are you saying that you intend to infiltrate the place where they are fighting?”
“That is correct. No matter what danger we must face, we have to recruit a swordsman from this land and take him back with us.”
“B-but that is far too dangerous. The mana stored in the Dragon Heart is already running dry, and approaching people with such astonishing detection abilities is practically suicide. Moreover, capturing a Master-level swordsman with only our abilities is nearly impossible.”
The old man’s face darkened sharply. It had long been established as common knowledge that mages were vulnerable against skilled swordsmen. Since magic required time to cast, subduing a swordsman was impossible unless multiple mages were deployed and kept a sufficient distance. But if their target was a swordsman who surpassed the Master level, the possibility became even more remote. There was a good chance their heads would be severed before their magic could even be realized. Yet they had no other choice. Since the mana in the Dragon Heart they had used to come here was already running dry, they had to devise some method, no matter what it was.
“We cannot return like this. Think of the homeland, now standing on the brink of ruin. Let us all summon our strength.”
At the old man’s words, the mages’ faces grew deeply gloomy. Every one of them knew all too well the desperate state of their homeland. In the end, they hurriedly began memorizing their spells.
Knowing that the slightest revelation of their presence would mean instant death, they proceeded with their casting carefully—then even more carefully.
The middle-aged man, whose superior skill allowed him to finish memorizing first, slowly walked over to the old man. The old man had also finished memorizing and was waiting for the others. Since he was a priest who used holy magic, he had completed his memorization even faster than the skilled mage himself. After hesitating for a moment, the middle-aged man cautiously opened his mouth.
“So, have you decided whom we will take with us?”
The old man nodded with a heavy expression.
“I have not yet thought of how we will bring him along, but I have one person in mind. In my opinion, he seems to be a swordsman whose ability is in no way inferior to that of the Great Emperor Kroser.”
Since he had a vague idea of whom the old man meant, the middle-aged man nodded as though it sounded plausible.
He nodded. While they were speaking, the magicians finished memorizing their spells one by one and opened their eyes.
“Gaaaaah!”
A desperate scream rang out as though piercing the lungs. Immediately afterward, someone spat out a gush of fresh blood.
Ironically, the one who had vomited blood was not the person who had just departed this world.
“Cough. T-there’s no time.”
With a heavy groan, Dokgo Seong barely managed to raise himself to his feet. He pulled the Hojo from the heart of the gray-robed man he had just killed. The Hojo was a bizarre weapon shaped like an iron gauntlet with long claws protruding from it. It was Dokgo Seong’s cherished weapon. Yet, as if to display the fierce bloodshed it had endured, the tips of the claws had been blunted until their original shape could scarcely be recognized.
Seeing the current state of the strange weapon forged from cold iron, one could easily imagine how arduous the path he had forced his way through must have been.
Dokgo Seong shifted his gaze and surveyed the corpses of the gray-robed men scattered around him. Once, they had been his subordinates—men who would strap explosives to themselves and leap into a pit of fire at his command. Yet now, they had raised their blades against him without hesitation. From that alone, it was easy to tell how deeply the Chief Advisor’s shadow had fallen over the Heretical Sect.
“What a frightening bastard.”
Forcing his increasingly heavy body onward, Dokgo Seong began to leave the area.
“If the Heavenly Son Blood Demon Art breaks down, I won’t even be able to struggle this much.”
The Heavenly Son Blood Demon Art. It was the supreme martial art that had elevated Dokgo Seong to the ranks of the pinnacle masters, but it was also a cursed demonic art that had driven him to this state. Hurling himself forward with all his strength, Dokgo Seong ground his teeth.
“I’ll tear that bastard to pieces! He deceived me with honeyed words and made me cultivate the Heavenly Son Blood Demon Art, and now he’s spread the truth far and wide, driving me into this state.”
Even venting his anger at empty air did nothing to calm his fury. That was how sincerely he had trusted the Chief Advisor. On the day he ended the war between the orthodox and unorthodox factions and entered the Heretical Sect’s headquarters proudly alongside his subordinates, he was ambushed without warning by the very Chief Advisor he had trusted so deeply at the victory banquet held in celebration. His injuries were so severe that his dantian had been completely crushed.
Dokgo Seong’s desperate flight had begun from that moment. After innumerable hardships, he had barely managed to escape the headquarters, but the ambush had already caused the Heavenly Son Blood Demon Art to begin breaking apart. Even the subordinates who had survived were annihilated to the last man while they were circulating their qi and regulating their breathing. As he recalled them, bloody tears flowed from Dokgo Seong’s eyes. Before being his subordinates, they had been close comrades who had crossed countless battlefields and protected each other’s lives.
“Sa Junhwan, you bastard. I will never forgive you.”
As Dokgo Seong flew through the undergrowth, he clenched his teeth hard enough to shatter them. At that moment, a strange sensation swept down his spine. It was a sensation far too familiar—the killing intent.
Without changing his running posture, Dokgo Seong thrust out his hand.
Crack!
Three or four concealed weapons flying toward him were caught in the Hojo and crushed. Dokgo Seong charged straight in and swung the Hojo with all his might.
Whump, whump, whump!
Flesh scattered amid splashes of gushing blood. Since the Hojo’s edges had already grown dull, it did not cut through its targets so much as tear their living flesh apart. Three or four figures collapsed where they stood. They must have been masters who had undergone rigorous training, for they did not utter a single scream even at the moment of death. Once their ambush had been exposed, the masters lying in wait revealed themselves without hesitation and launched their attacks. Judging from the skull masks they wore, they seemed to be masters of the Eumyeong Hall under the headquarters.
“Guh.”
Two Eumyeong Hall masters fell with their chests pierced by Dokgo Seong’s Hojo. Behind them, the figure pressed close at their backs was exposed in full. Judging by the way he had been concealing himself, he must have been preparing an ambush as well. He swung a long Gyejogyeom at Dokgo Seong’s chest.
Seeing the bluish qi gathered around the Gyejogyeom, Dokgo Seong hurriedly poured his inner power into the Hojo. His inner power was already nearly exhausted, leaving him unable to continuously draw forth the hardened qi. Thus, Dokgo Seong had no choice but to summon it only when necessary.
Clang!
Having blocked the attack, Dokgo Seong snarled.
“From the looks of you, you must be Gwak Segi, the Eumyeong Hall Master. Were you another of Sa Junhwan’s lackeys?”
The figure who had crossed his Gyejogyeom with the Hojo smiled darkly.
“Heh heh heh. That’s right, Cult Leader. You truly are the Heretical Sect’s greatest master, to have fled all the way here. But don’t even dream of surviving this place. The Chief Advisor will soon arrive with the hall masters.”
Dokgo Seong said nothing. He merely swung the Hojo and pressed his attack against Gwak Segi. A desperate battle with the Eumyeong Hall masters followed. Even the masters of the Eumyeong Hall, said to be the headquarters’ finest elite, were no match for Dokgo Seong. Overwhelming Gwak Segi, Dokgo Seong methodically killed the Eumyeong Hall masters one after another. The entire martial world had united to pursue him, and he had no time to lose. Since he fought with all his strength, the clash did not last long.
“Gaaaaah!”
Gwak Segi, the Eumyeong Hall Master, screamed miserably as half his face was blown away. No matter how profound one’s cultivation, no one could withstand the pain of having their living flesh torn apart. Staggering backward, he eventually collapsed on the spot. But in exchange, Dokgo Seong suffered a deep sword wound to his left arm. His inner power had not flowed smoothly. Blood streaming from the wound, Dokgo Seong did not even think to staunch it and instead twisted his face in anger.
“How pathetic. To be wounded by the likes of Gwak Segi…”
Shaking his head, Dokgo Seong launched himself forward without mercy. Every master of the Eumyeong Hall had already become a cold corpse at his hands. However, before dying, they had fired signal flares into the sky, so he had to leave this place as quickly as possible. Dokgo Seong’s small frame soon became a gust of wind and vanished from the area. Before long, countless figures appeared there.
“Even the Eumyeong Hall has been wiped out?”
Sa Junhwan surveyed the corpses of the fallen Eumyeong Hall masters and gave a bitter smile.
“They say even a rotten croaker is still a fish. The losses are truly no small matter.”
To maintain secrecy, Sa Junhwan had sent only his most trusted subordinates into the pursuit. Thus, losing them was particularly painful for him. Although Dokgo Seong’s dantian had been nearly destroyed by his ambush, his abilities were beyond imagination. Even with the assistance of the Guardian Demon King Army, he had to be regarded as a superhuman, someone who had surpassed the limits of humanity. Sa Junhwan took a deep breath and calmed himself.
‘There’s no need to hurry. His dantian has already been destroyed by more than half. Once the Heavenly Son Blood Demon Art collapses, he will no longer be able to resist. Besides, the orthodox faction and the Demonic Cult are also pursuing Dokgo Seong with their eyes blazing. There’s no need to lose any more of my subordinates. Especially that Yeongho Myeong, was it?’
Sa Junhwan recalled the young orthodox master who had joined the pursuit of Dokgo Seong. As the young lord of the Iron Sword Sect, a prestigious family of the martial world north of the Yangtze, he was the foremost among the younger generation to have reached the realm of wielding sword force.
During the operation to suppress the branch and sever Dokgo Seong’s limbs, he had achieved truly remarkable results. In particular, as he slaughtered Dokgo Seong’s subordinates with venomous resentment streaming from his eyes, he had displayed a ruthlessness utterly unbecoming of an orthodox disciple. Recalling Yeongho Myeong, Sa Junhwan smiled coldly.
‘Well, he does have reason enough. I wonder what expression he would make if he learned that this entire plan had originated in none other than my mind?’
Unlike Dokgo Seong, Sa Junhwan’s reputation outside the Heretical Sect was not particularly poor. He was even described by the orthodox faction as an upright and trustworthy man, despite being a member of the unorthodox path. This was because Sa Junhwan had devoted painstaking effort to managing his reputation. Everything had been arranged in advance to ensure an effective seizure of control over the Heretical Sect.
“Send out carrier pigeons and inform the orthodox and Demonic Cult pursuit parties of the location where he fled. There’s no need to shed any more useless blood.”
“Understood.”