The spike attached to the gauntlet shot toward another target. The place he had chosen was one that, in a human body, would contain a fatal vital point.
The locations of the human body’s acupoints were already clearly engraved in Dokgoseong’s mind, so it was not particularly difficult. The spot Dokgoseong had aimed for was gouged deeply and precisely by the spike.
The ogre’s entire body trembled as though it had been struck by lightning. Since Dokgoseong was striking its vital points one after another, the ogre could not move its body properly. At last, the moment the spike pierced the Geogweol acupoint in its chest, the ogre’s trembling abruptly ceased.
“Krwo.”
With a final scream, its eyes rolled back, and the ogre slammed its face into the ground. After that, it never moved again. It was a futile death utterly unbecoming of its enormous bulk.
But Dokgoseong still did not stop attacking. Only after continuing his assault and piercing the Baekhoe acupoint at the very crown of its head did he finally collapse onto the ground.
“Hah… hah…”
Sweat poured down like rain, while blood streamed over his face until he could no longer even open his eyes. Having exhausted every last ounce of strength he possessed, spasms had begun to seize his muscles as well. He sent a faint smile toward the upper part of the prison, where he could sense the presence of people, and then lost consciousness.
Above the prison, four eyes stared back and forth between the ogre’s corpse and the limp body of Dokgoseong, their gazes filled with utter disbelief.
This was a rather large manor. Despite being located a considerable distance from any settlement, the manor itself was quite extensive. Judging from the cluster of more than ten buildings packed together, it was clear that at least a thousand people had once lived here.
But not a single one of those who had lived here remained. A group of masters had infiltrated under cover of night and slaughtered them all. Now that day had broken, the entire situation was laid bare. Corpses lay scattered in every direction, too numerous to count, while flocks of crows circled above the manor as though preparing to feast.
Here and there, corpses dressed in black could also be seen, seeming to prove that the inhabitants had not given up and had resisted to the very end.
This was a secret base of the Martial Alliance. It was, in essence, a rear base secretly constructed by the Martial Alliance to support the Emei Sect and Tang Clan in the Sichuan region. Naturally, a considerable number of masters had been dispatched to protect the place, but unfortunately, those who had launched the surprise attack were far superior to them.
They were none other than the Guardian Demon King Army. Under the command of Pacheon Blood Demon Dokgoseong, hailed as the rising star of the Demonic Path, this invincible army had carried out an unexpected assault. Proving their might, only a handful of black-clad corpses lay among the dead. Although a thousand Martial Alliance warriors had perished, the Guardian Demon King Army had lost no more than forty men.
Dokgoseong gazed down at the bodies of his fallen subordinates with a grave expression. It pained him deeply to lose his men one by one as the battles continued.
When he had first been assigned to command them, the Guardian Demon King Army had numbered exactly five hundred. But after nearly three years of continuous battles, their numbers had fallen to three hundred. The battlefields they fought on were that treacherous, and they were deployed only on the most dangerous missions. Suddenly, a heartrending scream erupted from the building right beside them.
“Aaaagh!”
The sound jolted Dokgoseong back to his senses, and he turned his head toward it. The screams continued to burst forth. He had heard many such cries on the battlefield, but this one was different. It was not a death rattle uttered at the end of a life, but a scream wrung from someone unable to endure the most extreme agony.
Dokgoseong frowned.
“He’s dragging it out longer than expected.”
Inside the building was the chief protector dispatched from the main headquarters. He was currently interrogating the surviving members of the Martial Alliance. Torture was naturally an essential part of such interrogation, and those who had been captured were dying with their entire bodies reduced to a wreck. Of course, not before spilling every last thing they knew.
Dokgoseong did not particularly like it. He had a rather forthright temperament and preferred to end an opponent’s life in an instant, before they could feel any pain. He found this prolonged infliction of suffering deeply distasteful.
However, since the chief protector had been dispatched directly from headquarters to assess the overall war situation, Dokgoseong had no intention of interfering with his work. Once a target was designated, his task was to lead his subordinates there and smash it to pieces. Choosing the target was entirely Sajunhwan’s responsibility. His own role was simply to act.
“Boring.”
Dokgoseong trudged between the corpses strewn in every direction before dropping onto a severed tree root. After a short while, a tall man in black hurried toward him.
“Reporting to the commander.”
“Speak.”
The young man, whose sharply defined features made him quite handsome, bowed respectfully to Dokgoseong. He was Gwak Sang, one of the deputy commanders of the Guardian Demon King Army. A master skilled in wielding a pair of swords, he had been selected as Dokgoseong’s aide not only for his swordsmanship but also for his sharp mind. This was separate from the army’s overall commander, Jongni Ryeong.
Gwak Sang began his report in a low voice.
“According to our investigation, not a single person escaped. We have already confirmed nine hundred and eighty-nine corpses, including the body of Han Hyeonpil, the Frost Swordmaster who was in charge of this place.”
He briefly glanced toward the manor, from which screams continued to erupt, and went on.
“If we add the five corpses that will soon be brought out, the total will match the number we investigated without the slightest discrepancy.”
Dokgoseong showed no particular interest in that. His concern lay elsewhere.
“What are our casualties?”
After hesitating for a moment, Gwak Sang began his report without delay.
“Forty-two dead and seventeen critically wounded. Naturally, those with minor injuries have not been included in the report.”
Here, “critically wounded” meant those who had lost a part of their bodies and could never wield a sword again. Even if someone had suffered a serious injury, they were not counted among the critically wounded if there was any possibility of recovery. Dokgoseong’s expression darkened.
“That’s regrettable.”
After remaining silent for a moment, Dokgoseong spoke again.
“Recover the bodies and bury them properly in a sunny place. As for the critically wounded, take them to the Sichuan Branch for now.”
“Understood.”
Gwak Sang answered promptly, as though it were only natural. This method of handling such matters had already become familiar to them.
Ordinarily, martial artists of the Demonic Path considered it a virtue to mercilessly take the life of a comrade whose injuries made it impossible for him to wield a sword again. This was even more so for an organization that served as a special detachment, like the Guardian Demon King Army. Sacrificing oneself to lighten the burden on one’s surviving comrades was practically an ironclad rule among martial artists of the Demonic Path.
But Dokgoseong had thoroughly ignored that principle until now. Even when a warrior lost a leg or both arms in battle, he would carry the man himself, if necessary, all the way to headquarters, and take every measure to ensure that he could live out the rest of his life in comfort. This was unprecedented in the history of the Baekyo, and it was also utterly at odds with Dokgoseong’s outward appearance.
Pacheon Blood Demon Dokgoseong. That was the name the Orthodox Faction had given him. A demonic man who took extreme pleasure in slaughter and destruction, Dokgoseong was even called a death demon king by the martial artists of the Orthodox Faction. Yet this was another, unknown side of him.
The number of orthodox masters who had died by his hand was beyond counting, and when he killed, he never showed the slightest mercy. Considering his miserable upbringing and the fact that he had cultivated the cursed demonic art known as the Cheonja Blood Demon Art, it seemed only natural at first glance.
But even setting all that aside, Dokgoseong was a man with an unusually strong attachment to his subordinates. To his enemies, he was nothing more than a terrifying demon whose very thought was unbearable. To the warriors of the Guardian Demon King Army, however, Dokgoseong was a capable commander—and a brotherly figure who cared for them warmly.
In truth, he was an exceptionally competent leader. He possessed the ability to complete any mission entrusted to him without difficulty while minimizing casualties through outstanding, clear-headed judgment. Had Dokgoseong not been there, the Guardian Demon King Army could never have achieved its current record of victories.
Because of that, the warriors of the Guardian Demon King Army were so loyal that they would willingly carry oil into the flames themselves at a single command from Dokgoseong. The fact that the Orthodox Faction dismissed him as a demon who knew nothing but killing was an entirely separate matter to them.
Although he showed no such kindness to anyone else—especially his enemies—Dokgoseong treated his subordinates with extraordinary care. If any of them fell behind, he would charge alone into enemy lines to rescue them. There were even times when he personally dug graves and buried the bodies of fallen subordinates.
For that reason, every warrior of the Guardian Demon King Army was deeply devoted to Dokgoseong. An atmosphere prevailed among them that they would gladly die for him.
Gwak Sang gazed at Dokgoseong with a troubled look for a moment. His eyes plainly revealed that he was struggling with some inner concern. Seeing this, Dokgoseong tilted his head.
“What are you doing? We need to tend to the dead and wounded.”
“Ah, yes, understood.”
Coming out of his reverie, Gwak Sang hurriedly moved to summon his subordinates. Just then, a heavy voice suddenly rang out from behind them.
“No. There is no time for that now.”
Dokgoseong and Gwak Sang turned their heads toward the voice. A martial artist in his late forties, his face cold and impassive, was approaching with three or four subordinates in tow. Their hands were soaked in blood, as though they had just finished some gruesome task. He was the chief protector of the main headquarters. With an air of confidence, he began laying out the information he had uncovered through torture moments earlier.
“According to our investigation, a large number of Martial Alliance masters are stationed at Segeom Manor, north of Sichuan. They are apparently in the midst of preparing to launch a surprise attack on our Henan Branch. We must stop them by whatever means necessary. Therefore, take the Guardian Demon King Army and attack the place immediately. This matter cannot wait even a single hour.”
At those words, Gwak Sang looked restless. It was obvious what would happen to his critically wounded comrades if they did so. The chief protector glanced at him and let out a helpless remark.
“Deputy Commander. Regrettable as it is, we have no choice right now. They would prefer a clean death to clinging to a miserable life. So I ask that you take their lives immediately. The Guardian Demon King Army must be sent to Segeom Manor at once—”
But the chief protector’s words were cut short. A furious roar from behind interrupted him.
“Who decided that?”
The chief protector turned around and wore an incredulous expression. Dokgoseong was approaching, looking as though he were furious to the very top of his head. Though somewhat cowed, the chief protector did not back down and began explaining the necessity of the order.
“Young Lord. I understand your desire to protect your subordinates, but this matter cannot wait even an hour. The Henan Branch has no troops capable of stopping the enemy. If we do not depart immediately, we may lose the branch in its entirety—”
But Dokgoseong silenced him decisively. His eyes blazed as he enunciated each word with deliberate clarity.
“The Guardian Demon King Army will return to the Sichuan Branch, reorganize our lines, and only then move. Even if headquarters itself were the target of an attack, this order will not be withdrawn.”
Having finished speaking, Dokgoseong looked at Gwak Sang and issued a stern command.
“Carry out the order immediately. Bury our dead comrades, then take the critically wounded and return to the Sichuan Branch. Carry it out.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Gwak Sang promptly acknowledged the order, a look of joy rising in his eyes. He could not express how fortunate it was that the comrades who had shared so many battlefields with them would be allowed to live. The warriors of the Guardian Demon King Army soon began moving busily.
They split into groups. One group buried their fallen comrades, while the other procured wagons and loaded the critically wounded into them, creating a great commotion. The chief protector from headquarters watched them with an awkward expression.
Rumble…
The Guardian Demon King Army was returning toward the Sichuan Branch, each man mounted on horseback. Since the wagons they had seized from the Martial Alliance outpost were packed with the critically wounded, their speed of travel was extremely slow.
At the very front, Dokgoseong let his body sway with his horse’s gait, his eyes gently closed. The warriors, too, rode onward while keeping a sharp watch in every direction. At the rear of the formation was the chief protector from headquarters, who was glaring at the wagons with an impatient expression. At first glance, he looked exceedingly angry.
‘Damn it all…’
In truth, he was furious to the very top of his head. It was understandable, since a mission was about to be ruined because of men who could no longer even be called warriors, mere wrecks of human beings. But he was in no position to show it. In name, at least, Dokgoseong was the absolute ruler of the Baekyo, so the chief protector had no choice but to pretend to obey his orders without question.