Chapter 067
Jo Munbin blinked. He couldn't understand what had just happened.
He could comprehend how his Four Tiger Formation had been broken. Though Wudang swords were known for their gentleness, they weren't without powerful techniques. Since Cheongmyeong was called the successor of Wudang's sword lineage, it wasn't strange that he would know all of Wudang's sword techniques.
But what was this?
His chest was split open. The wound in his chest, which should have healed by now, was still gaping and spewing blood.
"Kuh, huk."
With a belated groan, Jo Munbin fell to his knees. His spears, cut into pieces, fell before Cheongmyeong's feet with a metallic clatter.
Everyone present was speechless at the sight.
Yet Cheongmyeong, who had created this scene, was wrapped in an indescribable feeling.
This is...
Stagger.
His entire body felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton. It was as if that single strike had drained all his energy, consuming every bit of his true power.
Jo Munbin made choking, gurgling sounds.
"This can't be... how, HOW?!"
He finally noticed what was happening to his body.
"The b-blood essence. The blood essence...!"
The blood essence, the foundation of Blood Demon Art, Blood Spirit Demon Essence Art, and many other Blood Cult martial arts, had shattered.
It was a kind of dan, created by stealing the life force and true energy of countless people. When one reaches the level where the vessel containing inner power can no longer expand, instead of continuing to expand, one compresses inward to create a small bead called dan or inner dan.
But the Blood Cult's dan, the blood essence, was evil from its creation process, so when it shattered, the results were similar to what happens when a poison practitioner's poison turns against them.
The shattering of the blood essence meant his martial arts were disappearing.
Jo Munbin's hair turned stark white, and his body shriveled like a deflated leather pouch. With the loss of martial arts achieved through the Blood Cult's demonic arts, the backlash was returning.
"No, no... NOOOOO!"
With that final cry, like the last words of a sinner being dragged into the abyss, Jo Munbin's body shriveled like an old man's before collapsing with a thud.
Cheongmyeong frowned at the sight of him, dried up like a mummy.
Was he already dead?
No life force could be felt from the fallen Jo Munbin.
I'm going to collapse.
Cheongmyeong tried to force strength into his body to stay upright. But whether it was the aftereffect of that single strike, he simply couldn't muster any strength.
Was that strike just now the first form of the True Martial Thirteen Swords, "Creation"?
He couldn't be certain, but it was clear that he had stepped into an unfamiliar realm.
The True Martial Thirteen Swords that had seemed so unreachable despite his desperate efforts.
It felt like he had finally grasped a thread of it, but...
Dangerous.
Cheongmyeong's brow furrowed elegantly.
Having returned from Twin Spirit to Unity, he should have progressed further, but perhaps the connection wasn't made yet. Because Twin Spirit couldn't advance to Dark Heaven and was blocked by a wall, it was incomplete, yet it had still managed to shatter Jo Munbin's blood essence.
Perhaps as an aftereffect, his entire body was immersed in exhaustion so severe it was painful.
"Kill Clear Wind Sword!"
Seeing Cheongmyeong unable to move, Blood Cult warriors charged forward, radiating murderous intent.
"Amitabha."
With a low Buddhist chant, a terrifying force fell from the sky, leaving a large handprint on the ground.
Three Blood Cult warriors who couldn't avoid it were flattened like frogs run over by a cart wheel.
Those who managed to dodge wore expressions of shock on their faces.
A large hand shadow.
How many in the current martial world could use a technique that projected force like the hand of Buddha?
The retreating Blood Cult warriors' expressions were grim.
"Dharma Buddha Divine Palm...!"
A voice recognizing the technique came from among the Blood Cult warriors.
Before Cheongmyeong, who was collapsing from his unsteady body, a man with a half-palm stance descended—Muwon.
"The... the Incapable Monk!"
The talented prodigy who supposedly wasted his time despite his abilities.
Among the Thirteen Elites, he was called the Bedridden Buddha Talent, the Incapable Monk, a derogatory name for one who might never rise.
Recently, he had begun making a name for himself as the Iron Lion, Shaolin's Little Divine Monk, and there he stood.
"It's the Iron Lion!!"
"Master Muwon!!"
"The Little Divine Monk is here!!"
Amid the emboldened cries of the orthodox faction warriors, Muwon stood before Cheongmyeong with a solemn face, maintaining his half-palm stance as he faced the Blood Cult warriors.
"Amitabha. I do not wish to take lives, but if you desire a fight, I shall oblige."
...
"Kuk..."
BOOM!
With a heavy explosion, Gal Yerung, her neck gripped by the blood-clothed man, was slammed against the wall, and a scream leaked from her mouth like blood.
Despite protecting her back with inner power, the impact shook her internal organs as if they would be crushed.
"Ya-Yajeop!"
"Damn—"
The lamenting voices of Cheongpyo and Red Tides, who were half-incapacitated, could be heard.
Despite their joint attack to help her, the two were instantly defeated, leaving only Gal Yerung.
The blood-clothed man didn't even glance at Cheongpyo and Red Tides sprawled on the floor.
His gaze was completely fixed on Gal Yerung.
"You vermin. You've done something quite audacious."
There was no time to wipe the blood trickling down her mouth.
Strong killing intent and malice emanated from the man's grip on her neck.
The man tightened his grip.
"You little rat."
Gal Yerung twisted her lips into a painful smile at the blood-clothed man's sinister voice.
Red Tides and Cheongpyo, who had tried to save her, were rolling on the ground, unable to withstand the man's attack.
What good were the three commanders of the Hao Sect?
Compared to forces like the Blood Cult, even at their peak, they were nothing but insects unable to properly use their strength.
There was a reason they were classified as the weakest among the Ten Unorthodox Sects.
"Hao Sect, Hao Sect... As persistent as weeds, now and always. Despite rising to the position of being called one of the Ten Unorthodox Sects, you still haven't shed your bat-like nature, yet you dare..."
"So what?"
Gal Yerung twisted her lips.
What did it matter if the world called them bats?
The Hao Sect was a faction of the weak.
The Beggars' Sect, often compared to the Hao Sect, built massive influence using countless beggars who, due to their nature, moved in groups and sometimes caused public nuisance, but at least they weren't classified as a minor sect.
They weren't called one of the Nine Sects and One Clan for nothing.
But the Hao Sect was different.
Most ordinary members of the Hao Sect didn't know martial arts, and many didn't even know they belonged to the Hao Sect, as it was organized in cells.
Such people were scattered throughout the martial world.
The common people of the martial world were the Hao Sect's eyes, ears, and informants.
The tiny pieces of information from them flowed through the Hao Sect branches to the headquarters.
Therefore, the Hao Sect's top priority had always been survival.
Whether in the Old Murim era or now, that hadn't changed.
"Our sect has always been like this. What? Bitter because the Blood Cult was expelled from the Sun Moon Cult?"
"You don't seem to understand your situation."
The blood-clothed man's eyes glowed crimson.
A bewitching gaze that seemed capable of stealing one's soul.
But Gal Yerung's gaze remained steady.
Instead, she mocked the heretic from the Blood Cult.
"You think I've lived so carelessly that I'd fall for such soul-capturing techniques?"
"You bitch!"
The man squeezed her neck as if to break it.
As Gal Yerung's complexion began to turn deathly pale, and the man curved his lips into a cruel smile—
A massive wave of energy spread through the air.
The moment he sensed it, the expression vanished from the man's face.
"H-how?!"
The fierce expression he had worn until just now was gone.
In its place was extreme bewilderment.
Gal Yerung also felt the suffocating, intense demonic energy.
And it wasn't just one or two.
Tens, no, hundreds of demonic energies were moving with the massive demonic energy hovering in the sky.
Like an escort procession for an emperor.
"Th-this can't be. The Sun-Moon Demon Lord, that heavy-bottomed one, came all the way to Luoyang?"
His face was blank with disbelief.
The hand gripping Gal Yerung's neck involuntarily loosened.
And Gal Yerung didn't miss that opportunity.
CRACK.
A blood-curdling scream echoed in Gal Yerung's ears as she used all her strength to crush the man's weakened hand.
"AAAAARGH!!"
"You said the Hao Sect was like vermin, like weeds, didn't you?"
Gal Yerung smiled.
As the Red Snake Blood Tassel Art was drawn up from her dantian, her red hair turned crimson as if soaked in blood.
Through the deeply shadowed darkness, Gal Yerung's vertically slit, snake-like pupils glowed bright red.
"Why do you care how others live?"
The vibration produced when the Red Snake Blood Tassel Art was opened to its limit pressed down on the blood-clothed man's entire body like a crushing weight.
"You bitch...!"
The man ground his teeth and opened his inner power.
Not the Blood Essence Demon Spirit Art learned by lower-ranked Blood Cult warriors, but the Blood Heaven Mara Art pushed back the force of the Red Snake Blood Tassel Art.
The man's broken, dangling hand instantly regained its form as he rose.
The ability one must be most cautious of when facing Blood Cult warriors.
The regenerative ability that allows them to recover instantly from scratches or even deep wounds.
"If the Sun-Moon Demon Lord has come, I should withdraw. But before that, I'll tear you to pieces."
Gal Yerung sneered at the man's words.
"Try it! I won't die easily!"
"I'll kill you!!"
A thunderous boom erupted as Gal Yerung's palm strike, filled with the inner power of the Red Snake Blood Tassel Art, collided with the blood-like inner power in the man's slashing attack.
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📚 Author's Note:
Big thanks to Daniel_Carvalho_1047 for the 3 shiny Power Stones!
🐧