Chapter 69

Cheonma listened intently to the clanging of weapons.

He thought it was the Sword King Neng Tian’e and the Sword Demon’s subordinates clashing. Murong Chui, the head of the Murong family, also unleashed his martial arts as if vomiting them out before being killed by the Sword Demon.

The Heavenly Demon asked the Sword Demon.

“Why haven’t you killed the Sword King yet?”

The Sword Demon replied.

“He’s a man with much to learn.”

“Kill him today.”

“Why?”

“There’s no reason to spare the king. That Sword Emperor who slipped through my fingers bothers me too.”

The Sword Demon nodded.

“I’ll kill him tonight.”

“I’ll head to the Namgung Clan first. Meet me later at Yunchao Tower.”

“Cut back on the drinking.”

The Sword Demon stared blankly at the receding figure of the Heavenly Demon.

They were both raised in the Ten Thousand Horses Palace.

The man who had even given up his food since childhood was Cheonma. The man who had lived all these years giving up everything for him had recently begun to feel increasingly uncomfortable.

Because he was a demon?

Because that friend was the direct descendant of the Heavenly Demon who died in the Five Tombs War?

Because his father was the peerless genius who single-handedly faced the Three Gods of the White Path?

If not that, it might be because he believed a demon could never have friends.

The Sword Demon looked up at the sky and pondered.

‘I just need to get stronger. Only by becoming stronger will all these distracting thoughts vanish.’

The Demon King’s grand scheme was revolving around him anyway. As his friend had said, he could decide after achieving everything.

The Sword Demon smiled with a strange expression, then looked toward the prison holding the Sword King. He felt it would be right to kill the Sword King today, just as his friend had said.

.

.

.

As the Sword Demon headed toward the prison, he stopped abruptly, his eyes widening.

‘What the hell?’

The white-haired swordsman was heading alone toward the prison when his eyes met those of the Sword Demon. The Sword Demon was momentarily speechless. This was not a man he should have encountered in such a place.

The Sword Demon asked in a tone that demanded, “What on earth is going on here?”

“Leader, what on earth brings you here? You’ve no fear, do you?”

The white-haired swordsman was Yu Jeong-hong, the leader of the martial arts alliance.

As he drew his sword, Master Yu Jeong-hong warned someone.

“Be careful. It’s a monster.”

He wasn’t speaking to the Sword Demon. Martial artists of the Martial Alliance surged from the roof. The moment they landed on the wall, they charged at the Sword Demon, unleashing sword energy.

Shwaaang! Shwaaang! Shwaaaaaaang!

The Sword Demon drew his pitch-black blade from his waist, instantly annihilating the sword qi flying in from every direction.

Yoo Jeong-hong, who had heard Nongcheon’s roar, narrowed his eyes before smashing through the iron door with his left fist and charging in, unleashing sword energy indiscriminately.

The Martial Alliance’s intelligence network was, by necessity, the most formidable in the martial world.

However, discovering the Sword Demon’s secluded location was impossible from the start.

Even when an anonymous tip came in, Yoo Jeong-hong had been skeptical.

But upon seeing the detailed map included in the letter sent by the informant, he had no choice but to lead his forces here personally.

The informant was the Young Master of the Ten Thousand Demons Palace.

The young man who declared he would become a demon had caused an absurd accident, leading to a confrontation between the Martial Alliance and the Heavenly Sword Sect.

.

.

.

Sword King Neng Tian’e had his arm and thigh severed. More than the wounds, he was mentally and physically exhausted from fighting twelve opponents in succession. It felt less like determining superiority in sword techniques and more like draining his inner energy against those who wouldn’t be cut down. Even a one-on-one continuous battle drained his internal energy this severely. If all twelve attacked simultaneously, who could possibly withstand it?

CRASH!

As the iron gate shattered and Myeongju-nim Yoo Jeong-hong suddenly appeared, Neungcheon-ak felt as if he were dreaming.

“Leader!”

Yoo Jeong-hong charged headlong at the Twelve Demon Swords of the Sword Demon. With each swing of his blade, two or three of the Twelve Demon Swords were flung aside, crashing into the wall.

Crash! Crash! Crash!

Yu Jeong-hong soared into the air and landed before Neungcheonak.

“Glad to see you alive.”

Neng Tian’e spoke as if warning him.

“Lord Chief, these bastards are all immune to blades.”

Lord Yoo Jeong-hong turned around.

The men who should have had their limbs torn apart upon hitting the wall were rising again like soulless ghosts.

When the Twelve Swords took their positions as if preparing to strike…

Yoo Jeong-hong raised his sword with a calm expression.

“Come forth.”

At that moment, the Sword Demon’s voice, resonating with his inner energy, echoed from outside.

“Scatter, all of you…”

This command was not directed at the Heavenly Sword Legion’s forces, but at the Twelve Demon Swords the Sword Demon had been training. It was the Sword Demon’s order, made because he judged he could not afford to lose the Twelve Demon Swords during their cultivation as decisive battle weapons.

The moment he heard those words, Yu Jeonghong unleashed his sword energy toward the twelve black-clad swordsmen.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

All twelve simultaneously raised their swords to block.

CRASH!

Twelve figures flew backward simultaneously, smashing through the prison wall and tumbling out. Three or four coughed up blood from the impact, yet their grotesque bodies remained seemingly unharmed. Following the Sword Demon’s command, they began spreading out in all directions, avoiding Yu Jeonghong while deploying their lightness skills.

Yu Jeonghong exclaimed with a look of shock.

“What the…”

Even the battle-hardened veteran Yoo Jeong-hong was startled. He paused his pursuit to check on the Sword King’s condition first.

“Cheonak, are you alright?”

Neng Tian’e replied.

“Yes, Senior.”

“Get out. You’re to follow me.”

Though I came here after receiving a tip about the location, a nagging unease still lingered in the back of my mind. No matter how much I thought about it, the tip hadn’t come from our allies or the righteous faction. Fortunately, we managed to save the Sword King, so I could only console myself that it wasn’t a wasted trip.

After surveying the Wulin Alliance forces clashing with the Thousand Swords Sect and the surrounding area, Leader Yoo Jeong-hong remarked,

“It seems the informant was targeting the Yang Pai Gu Xiang…”

Feeling uneasy, he intended to withdraw the forces for now.

.

.

.

The figure of the Sword Emperor, who had appeared alongside Chief Yoo Jeong-hong, seemed to stagger before materializing behind the fleeing men. With a single sword strike, he severed the torsos of three or four men as he advanced.

This man, more often called the Iron-Blooded Sword Emperor than simply the Sword Emperor, was a handsome middle-aged master swordsman. Despite Chief Yoo Jeong-hong’s order to retreat, he was acting on his own initiative to reduce the ranks of the Thousand Swords Legion.

While slashing at the fleeing men, he kicked a black-clad figure, sending him tumbling. It happened to be the youngest brother who had clashed with the Sword King.

The Sword Emperor grinned.

“Good to see you again.”

I remembered his face—he was the one who had launched the joint attack.

The sword master kicked the jet-black long sword from the youngest’s hand, sending it flying, then slashed at his neck with his own blade.

Clang!

The youngest of the Twelve Demon Swords let out a gurgling sound and clutched the sword with both hands. It felt like a massive boulder was crushing him.

The sword master infused his inner energy and demanded,

“Why won’t you die?”

The swordsman’s blade instantly turned crimson. A sizzling sound rang out from the man’s hands.

“Kyaaah!”

The Sword Master looked into the youngest’s eyes and said.

“I’ll kill you soon.”

The Sword Master intended to melt the body of the Sword Immortal with his sword energy. To face the Sword Demon in battle later, he had to devise a way to pierce the Sword Immortal beforehand.

At that moment, the Sword Master’s head whipped toward the wall. Instantly, he drew his sword and swung it through the air.

Kwaaaaaaaang!

Gyeomje, clutching the sword thrust horizontally, was pushed back before regaining his stance.

Perched atop the wall, the man in the purple robe he had seen before was staring intently at him.

It was Cheonma.

Cheonma asked the Sword Master.

“Sword Master, the retreat order has been given. What are you doing here?”

The youngest rose to his feet and dashed toward the location of the Heavenly Horse.

The Sword Master said.

“So it was you. This time, let’s settle this one-on-one. You were far too underhanded last time.”

Cheonma grinned.

“I’ve got business today. Let’s have a proper fight next time.”

The Sword Master asked.

“Who the hell are you?”

Cheonma glared at the Sword Master. This was the man who had slipped away despite their combined attack with the Sword Demon. He had no intention of fighting him one-on-one now.

“You’re probably one of those orphaned by the Martial Alliance. See you again.”

Cheonma vanished from the wall, still gripping the youngest disciple by the back of his neck.

.

.

.

Cheonma pulled the youngest of the Twelve Demon Swords away from the Heavenly Sword Formation, gripping the back of his neck.

“Youngest, are you all right?”

“Yes, you can let go now. I can run.”

“There’s someone following us. Let’s get a bit further away and split up. I’ve had this uneasy feeling since earlier…”

“Understood.”

With each leap Cheonma made off the ground, his speed increased. Cheonma spoke with a displeased expression.

“The leader coming all the way here personally? What on earth is going on? Is there a traitor in the Heavenly Sword Sect?”

“I don’t know. That can’t be it.”

The youngest, who had been fleeing while held captive by Cheonma for quite some time, spoke to Cheonma with a dark expression.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Cheonma still held the youngest by the back of his neck.

“It’s fine.”

The youngest looked at Cheonma’s arm and cautiously replied.

“We’re far enough away now. I’ll go join Lady Yeonju.”

Cheonma said in a firm tone.

“You mustn’t join them immediately. There could be pursuers. Scatter far apart first, then regroup. The money and effort I’ve poured into you are no small matter.”

“Yes.”

When Cheonma finally released the back of his neck upon arriving at the secluded spot, the youngest replied with a tense expression.

“Thank you.”

In that instant, Cheonma grabbed the youngest by the collar with a telekinetic pull, then jabbed both eyes with his fingers.

Pwooosh!

“Kyaaaah…!”

Cheonma’s fingers turned purple as they sank deeper. Cheonma then grabbed his neck with his left hand and said in a low voice.

“Shh…”

The Demon King placed his right hand on the youngest’s crown and absorbed his vital energy.

Even the Sword of Immortality was useless. For he possessed demonic arts that absorbed all life-related energy.

The youngest’s face and entire body were shriveled as if vertical lines were carved into them.

Cheonma gazed at the youngest child’s face and said,

“Youngest, may you be reborn in paradise.”

Twisted beyond recognition of human form, the grotesquely transformed remains collapsed to the floor the moment Cheonma withdrew his hand.

The Heavenly Demon channeled his inner energy into his foot, causing the ground to sink. He kicked the corpse into the grave, then kicked the earth over it to bury the body. It was a practiced motion, as if he’d done it countless times before.

Cheonma scratched his head and briefly scanned the surroundings. He intended to kill any witnesses if he found them.

.

.

.

The day after the Martial Alliance and the Heavenly Sword Sect clashed…

The Heavenly Sword Sect’s forces and the Twelve Demon Swords scattered in all directions. The Demon King’s Grand Plan itself didn’t mean all-out war; it referred to the preparatory process for all-out war. There was no reason for the Martial Alliance and them to reduce their numbers while engaging in a slaughter right now.

They all moved, avoiding regions where martial arts sects were based.

Some fled to the mountains, others took to the seas, while a few slipped into bustling cities. Some of the Twelve Demon Swords reveled in their newfound freedom. Though they had gained bodies immune to blades, living as slaves to the Sword Demon had never been easy.

Was it mere coincidence?

Should I say it was bad luck?

The Tenth Sword, holding the tenth rank of the Twelve Swords, moved to avoid his sect and entered a bustling street to watch the people. He naturally found himself looking around for a brothel. With no fearsome superiors or higher-ranked companions accompanying him, he planned to enjoy some leisure time alone and then move to the rendezvous point if trouble arose.

He thought it was a good neighborhood.

Despite the fairly developed commercial district, martial artists were almost nowhere to be seen.

Sipgeom was about to enter the brothel when he suddenly felt inside his pockets. He didn’t have a single penny. With a disgruntled look, he walked on again.

He planned to rob a few houses that looked wealthy once night fell and then return.

Then, Sipgeom locked eyes with a man staring at him as if trying to pierce through him.

The man’s expression was utterly baffling. He looked almost dazed.

It was Dan Woo-sung, who had just seen Baekyak back to his lodgings and was returning to the Eunha Trading Company.

Shikgeom approached Danwooseong, who was staring at him intently, and spoke.

“Hey, why are you staring like that? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Shikgeom suppressed his killing intent with effort before distancing himself from Danwooseong. After taking a few steps, Shikgeom stopped abruptly and looked back.

The man was still glaring at him.

Shikgeom pointed a finger and said.

“Consider yourself lucky.”

Dan Wooseong watched Sipgeom, then scanned his surroundings. No matter how he thought about it, this was one of the men who had been attacking the caravan. He couldn’t understand why he was wandering alone. His attire was different, but the jet-black long sword at his waist was identical.

It couldn’t be a trap. Those attacking the Emperors wouldn’t recognize the merchant guild’s master.

Dan Woo-sung pursued the Ten Swords.

ⓒ