A tremendous wave of demonic energy and sword aura spread from the hill, leaving the demonic cultivators in a daze. Ma Dongpil, who was staring blankly at the scene, quickly shouted, "Third squad, secure the surroundings! The Young Master is in battle!"
"...What?"
They still didn't know who this mysterious expert was. Though he realized it was a mistake, there was no time to explain now. "Move quickly! Hurry!"
"Understood!"
After giving orders to the squad members, Ma Dongpil hurriedly approached Juhwa. "Are you alright?"
"Ugh, I'm fine."
She tried to say she was fine, but she didn't look it at all. Not only was there internal bleeding, but uncontrolled demonic energy was leaking out in streams. Her face was a mess as well. However, Juhwa remained composed. The Third Young Master had suddenly appeared and destroyed all the monsters, so she couldn't just collapse from her injuries.
With Ma Dongpil's support, Juhwa stood up, her face clouded as she saw the corpse of Yeon, who was left with only two legs. Biting her lip, she shouted, "Transport team members, check the surroundings! The items we were supposed to transport must be around here!"
It was a cold-hearted order, to be sure. The bodies of their comrades were everywhere, yet they were told to find the transport goods before even dealing with the corpses. But the demonic cultivators understood her. In fact, they didn't even need to understand her. They lived and died by orders. They were demonic cultivators of the Divine Sect.
Crackling!
The guardians organized the surroundings while the transport team searched the area.
"Huff!"
Juhwa bent slightly at the waist. Her complexion was growing increasingly pale. Ma Dongpil took out a pill from his pocket. "It's a Life-Extending Pill. Take it quickly."
"That is..."
"This is not the time to be stubborn. I can get more when we return."
Juhwa nodded. "Thank you."
There was no need for unnecessary words. She understood the seriousness of the situation better than anyone. Ma Dongpil quickly administered the Life-Extending Pill and stood guard over Juhwa as she began to circulate her energy, all the while keeping an eye on the hill.
Flash! Flash!
The red demonic light weakened. Seoryang had drawn the opponent far away. 'Damn it.'
He had clearly heard the Young Master call out the opponent's name, but he couldn't remember it, mesmerized by the Young Master's overwhelming aura. In any case, it was clear the opponent was a formidable expert. Even the fragments of their aura were enough to make one's hair stand on end.
In other words, the Third Young Master had expended enough internal energy to kill all the monsters and was now fighting another strong opponent. Meanwhile, he himself could do nothing but stand guard.
In his heart, he wanted to rush over and help the Young Master immediately, but he knew the Young Master didn't want that. 'How frustrating.'
As a guardian, his abilities were second to none. As a martial artist, he was also considered quite exceptional. But what did it matter? At the crucial moment, he couldn't protect anyone properly. Instead of protecting, he once again had to rely on the Young Master's help.
Drip.
Blood flowed from his tightly bitten lips. In a moment of unspeakable self-reproach, he almost let loose the demonic energy he had been suppressing. He looked down at Juhwa. 'Please finish quickly.'
Once the situation here was at least somewhat stable, he would immediately rush to the Young Master. For now, all he could do was wait and wait some more.
Aaaah!
It wasn't that his internal energy had increased or that his aura had become several times stronger. But Jeong Ilryong felt it. The opponent had completely changed from before.
Most importantly, the demonic energy was entirely different from before. It wasn't a matter of concentration but of the very nature itself. It had been vicious before, but the demonic energy now emanating from the young demonic cultivator was filled with malevolence.
It was as if it had come much closer to the essence of demons, a demonic energy so intense that it felt like it would destroy one's mind upon contact. Jeong Ilryong shouted, "The Demonic Sect has created another abominable demon!"
"Shut up!"
Buzz! Buzz!!
The sound waves that spread out were so intense they seemed to tear at the eardrums. It was a demonic voice reminiscent of sound-based martial arts.
Boom!
Jeong Ilryong's eyes wavered. The opponent shot up without any preparatory movements, and his shoulder flinched momentarily. 'Fast!'
Whoosh.
Seoryang's left hand sliced through the air. A powerful strike that rose from the lower to the upper section, the Gangbyeoksoo of the Jecheon Technique. Screech!
He dodged, but it was too fast and powerful a strike. Jeong Ilryong's sleeve was completely torn.
Bang!
That wasn't the end. The opponent spun around and kicked, the fluidity of the movement truly dazzling. If he wasn't careful, he would be thoroughly humiliated. Jeong Ilryong focused his internal energy into his feet.
Bang!
His body was pushed back. He took a moment to catch his breath before trying to re-engage. It was then.
'...!'
The opponent's body scattered into afterimages. 'Body Shifting Technique?!'
No, the speed at which the afterimages scattered was too fast for that. But it was undoubtedly an extraordinary movement that evoked thoughts of that realm. Jeong Ilryong sharpened his senses.
'Above!'
Clang!
There was no time to even lift his head; he raised his sword to block. 'Gasp!'
His joints creaked. The dense true energy that had sustained his old and weakened body almost scattered in an instant. 'This brat?'
Veins bulged on Jeong Ilryong's forehead. It had been over thirty years since he shifted from martial arts to politics. It had been over twenty years since he last experienced real combat, except for a brief stint a year ago. Moreover, that time wasn't even real combat, as it was under the Thousand-Net Formation.
No matter how strong the opponent unexpectedly was, it made no sense that he was being pushed around by a mere late-stage martial artist. Boom!
With a strong step, his white sword spun like a windmill. Clang! Clang! Clang!
Countless clashes of swords. Jeong Ilryong's sword pointed upward. Boom!
Seoryang's body spun wildly and retreated. A small hole was pierced in his long robe. "You dodged that?"
Jeong Ilryong's eyes turned cold. He no longer underestimated the opponent as 'just' a young expert. Swoosh.
Seoryang, who was about to charge in again, hesitated. A white mist had formed around Jeong Ilryong's body. The mist was emanating from Jeong Ilryong's sword, the White Crane Sword.
'Sword Mist?'
A technique that creates a defensive barrier around the body by fragmenting sword energy at its peak. But it wasn't just for defense. Since it wasn't mere internal energy but fragments of sword energy, it could also serve as a powerful attack.
Jeong Ilryong spoke in a sinister voice, "I didn't want to go this far, but..."
Whoosh.
As he slowly swung his sword, the sword mist rippled. It was a truly beautiful sight. But the killing intent within was as insidious as a viper's fangs. "Now die..."
Bang!
Seoryang charged straight in. Jeong Ilryong was furious. Being attacked without knowing the reason was infuriating enough, but this brat was unbelievably rude. He charged in without even waiting for an elder to finish speaking.
"You brat!"
Whoosh!
The white sword mist shot toward Seoryang. It wriggled forward with incredible speed. It was as if an uncountable swarm of insects was advancing faster than arrows.
Grip!
Seoryang tightened his grip on his sword. Crackle! The dark lightning that burned crimson covered the entire massive blade. He swung the sword with that momentum.
Boom!
Seoryang coughed up blood. Even though a thirty-pound heavy sword clashed with a sword weighing less than five pounds, it was Seoryang who suffered the damage. His understanding surpassed Jeong Ilryong's, but the internal energy accumulated in his body was still lower.
However, Seoryang was not flustered at all. Boom!
Jeong Ilryong's eyes filled with shock. The sword mist, which should have swallowed and ground up the retreating opponent, scattered into pieces. It was an explosion created by the Jecheon Technique's Explosive Mountain Force.
Whoosh!
Seoryang emerged through the thick dust. His eyes shone like a ghost's, and from the massive sword gripped in both hands, a hellish windstorm raged. "You!"
Jeong Ilryong swung his sword again. His ultimate technique, the White Mourning Sword Technique. Clang! Clang! Clang!
Seoryang's upper body and shoulders were drenched in blood. He was struck before he could even draw his sword technique. It meant Jeong Ilryong's sword was that fast.
Whoosh!
Yet he did not retreat. The wind gathering from all directions was imbued in his massive sword. Urgency filled Jeong Ilryong's face.
Seoryang bared his bloodstained teeth in a grin. "Die, you bastard."
Boom!!
The Six Flames Hell Wind, unleashed in a single stroke, swept away all the sword energy of the White Mourning Sword Technique. But it didn't end there.
Whoosh!
Following the hellish wind came the pillar of fire that engulfed the heavens and earth. The massive sword, heated to a fiery red, became a fire dragon that swept over Jeong Ilryong. It was the manifestation of the Ninth Hell's Calamity Sword Technique, the Final Endless Sword.
In an instant, Jeong Ilryong's eyes widened. 'This sword technique?!'
It was a technique he had definitely seen somewhere before. In reality, there were very few martial arts that could generate such intense flames. No matter how great the sword technique, without enough internal energy to emit such heat, it couldn't even be attempted.
The red sword energy and the white sword energy clashed head-on. Boom! Boom! Boom!
With a massive pillar of fire, black smoke rose high into the sky. It was then that something unexpected happened. Crackle!
In an instant, frost formed on the ground. The place where the intense flames had vanished was replaced by icy flowers. As the cold air gathered and the true energy spurred it on, the temperature around them plummeted in an instant.
The Six Flames Hell Wind, the Final Endless Sword, followed by the Third Chapter of the Calamity Sword Technique. The Blood-Crying Great Red Lotus, imbued with the cold of the Eight Cold Hells.
"Ugh!"
Jeong Ilryong's face turned red. He was trying to block the cold by mustering all his internal energy. Crackle.
His clothes crumbled in places. The cold that he couldn't completely block had infiltrated and damaged his clothes. Whoosh!
In an instant, a biting cold wind blew from the front. The final wind of the Eight Cold Hells, the Death Wind of the Great Red Lotus Hell, imbued with formless sword energy.
Urgency filled Jeong Ilryong's face. He had blocked the internal injuries from the cold, but he hadn't expected such an attack to follow immediately.
'...!'
In a split second, a scene flashed in his mind, creating a vivid image. The traces of a massive sword wind that swept through a radius of ten yards. Trees turned to ash and countless warriors' weapons charred black. Moreover, the countless corpses frozen solid as if preserved in eternal snow.
He recalled his own image, cutting through that living hell to finally sever a man's leg. And the sword of the dying man, unleashing a wind of frost just like now.
'This is the sword technique that the King of Slaughter used?!'
The worst secret weapon of the Alliance, who assassinated countless experts under the Alliance Leader's command. In that moment, the words the young demonic cultivator had spat out also came to mind.
- Give me back my leg, you bastard!
Jeong Ilryong's eyes shook violently. Boom!
The ground swept by the Blood-Crying Great Red Lotus was frozen and shattered roughly. "Huff! Huff!"
Seoryang panted heavily. It was only thirty percent of its peak power, but it was an attack that would leave no trace of an ordinary expert. Sss.
White frost swirled around the hill. Crack!
From within that frost came the sound of ice breaking. It was Jeong Ilryong. "Who are you, really?"
Jeong Ilryong's figure slowly emerged. His upper garment, frozen and shattered, fell to the ground in pieces. His upper body, surprisingly muscular for an old man, was marked with red sword wounds here and there. The wounds were frozen, so no blood flowed.
"Who are you to wield that sword technique?"
Seoryang grinned. "Do you remember now?"