"We found it!"
The demons of the transport team came carrying large boxes.
"Seven boxes in total, confirmed!"
"The contents are all safe!"
Srrrk.
Juhwa stood up from her seat. She could have continued her energy circulation, but this was not the time. Since they said they found the items, she had to check them herself.
Supported by Madongpil, she checked each item one by one.
"Thankfully, everything is correct."
Juhwa sighed in relief. No matter the process, the orders given had been fulfilled.
"Load the items onto the carts."
The demons of the transport team loaded the boxes. There weren't many, so they could fit them all onto two carts.
"Chief Joo, please continue your energy circulation."
"Yes, that's what I plan to do. So..."
Juhwa glanced up the hill.
"Go ahead."
"...?"
"The search is over, so you can leave my protection to the transport team demons. Captain Sam, you need to assist the Young Master, don't you?"
"...He probably doesn't need my help."
"Still, go."
"..."
"You are the captain of the Protection Division, aren't you? Although you were tasked with escorting the transport team, we plan to take a short break. So go find work that suits your role."
Madongpil, who had been quietly watching Juhwa, bowed his head.
"Be careful."
"Don't worry."
Paak!
Madongpil dashed up the hill. It was so steep it was almost a cliff, so he had no choice but to turn back.
Watching Madongpil's disappearing figure, Juhwa sighed again. Unlike before, this sigh was filled with frustration.
'Disqualified.'
For the Young Master, even you should go?
What nonsense. It was only right to send all the demons here. But she couldn't do that. Officially, the Third Young Master had to be someone who wasn't here.
And from now on, she had to explain this to them.
'He'll be safe.'
If she hadn't seen the Third Young Master's skills, she wouldn't have thought this way. Explanation or not, the Young Master's survival was the priority.
This is why people with ranks have a hard time. Even if they don't want to, there comes a moment when they have to lie to their subordinates.
Juhwa opened her mouth.
"All demons, gather around. I have something to explain."
Kaaang!
The sound of swords clashing was much duller than before.
"Ugh!"
Jung Ilryong staggered back.
"Uwegh!"
Seoryang spat blood. The attack he launched had also taken a toll on his own body.
But he didn't stop. He never intended to stop, nor should he. This fight was one where you either kill or be killed.
Paak!
Seoryang charged again. Although he was using the Nine Heavens Swift Steps, he couldn't achieve his usual speed. Most of his internal energy had been exhausted.
But that was enough. Jung Ilryong, who hadn't experienced real combat in a long time and had suffered severe internal injuries for the first time in decades, couldn't regain his senses.
Whoosh!
The sound of the thirty-jin heavy saber slicing through the air was threatening enough to make one's hair stand on end.
Jung Ilryong ducked his head sharply.
Sarararak!
Chunks of hair, sliced off, scattered in all directions.
Paaang!
The White Crane Sword rose from below. Although it didn't carry much internal energy, it was still threatening enough.
The White Crane Sword itself was a rare treasure, and the White Crane Sword Technique was one of the Ten Great Sword Techniques of the Orthodox Faction, with Jung Ilryong's enlightenment infused into it.
But now, his attacks had no effect on Seoryang.
Bang!
"Ugh!"
Jung Ilryong staggered again.
No matter how intricate his techniques were, he couldn't block the One Blade.
It was the epitome of the Blunt Blade Suppressing Sword, One Pressure Many Changes. A slow and dull blade suppressing a fast and agile sword, and simple movements suppressing various changes—Seoryang was demonstrating this perfectly.
'How...'
Puck!
Jung Ilryong's head snapped to the side. He was struck by Seoryang's elbow, who didn't miss the opportunity.
'How can this brat...!'
The Blunt Blade Suppressing Sword was a technique of the Ascendant, but just because one understood it didn't mean it worked on everyone.
Jung Ilryong was a supreme master. Even on the vast continent, he was not someone easily encountered.
Though it had been a long time since he experienced real combat, and he was flustered, he shouldn't have been overpowered by a young man who didn't even look thirty. Let alone by the Blunt Blade Suppressing Sword?
The pinnacle of the Illusion Sword, the White Crane Sword Technique, was fast but lacked in strength and sharpness.
But that didn't matter to someone of Jung Ilryong's caliber. His overflowing internal energy would supplement the strength, and his enlightenment would restore the sharpness. Moreover, he had the White Crane Sword, a treasured sword.
For someone to break his martial arts with just a thirty-jin heavy saber was not an easy feat.
'Could it be that this young brat's enlightenment surpasses mine?!'
Clang!
Jung Ilryong's arm swung backward. This time it was dangerous. Unable to withstand the impact of the clash, his shoulder almost dislocated. His protective gear was already torn, and blood was flowing profusely.
Hwaaak!
Seoryang charged again. His face was so pale it was almost white. His nose and mouth were covered in blood. His body was soaked in cold sweat, and it wouldn't have been surprising if he collapsed at any moment.
But his eyes still blazed like the sun. The murderous intent, anger, madness, and countless other emotions boiling in his eyes were overwhelming to face.
Jung Ilryong's face twisted.
"You brat!"
Puh-uck!
Seoryang staggered. He was hit on the shoulder by Jung Ilryong's fist.
"Do you know who I am! I am the leader of the Righteous Heaven Alliance...!"
Crack!
"Aaaargh!"
Jung Ilryong's left shoulder slumped down.
It was the same punch, yet his shoulder broke.
It wasn't a difference in muscle and bone. Seoryang was putting all his strength into killing Jung Ilryong, fully aware that the fight wasn't over yet.
On the other hand, Jung Ilryong couldn't do that. His panic and surprise fueled his anger, and that anger lowered the protective aura of the White Crane Energy that should have been shielding his entire body.
It was the difference between divine and demonic arts, the difference in familiarity with real combat, and crucially, the difference in fighting spirit.
Seoryang swung his saber again.
Clang clang clang!
Jung Ilryong kept retreating. Blood flowed from his torn protective gear, his legs were losing strength, and his upper body was covered in cuts.
His hands, joints, and skin couldn't withstand the overwhelming saber pressure. Naturally, the form of the White Crane Sword Technique wavered, and as it did, his body accumulated more wounds.
How much time had passed like that?
Seoryang let out a roar.
"Uwaaaah!!"
With a loud crash, the White Crane Sword flew backward and embedded itself neatly in a large tree.
Having sent the White Crane Sword flying, Seoryang immediately let go of his heavy saber. His muscles had reached their limit, and he could no longer wield the saber.
Jung Ilryong gritted his teeth and kicked his right foot up.
But before his foot could leave the ground, he saw a shadow blocking his view.
Crack!
"Ugh!"
Jung Ilryong fell backward. His face was truly horrific. Not only was his nose crushed, but his eye and one cheekbone had also caved in.
And that wasn't all. Four of his front teeth lay broken on the ground beside him.
"Mi... Mad!"
He couldn't even pronounce properly. No, he wasn't in a state to speak.
Yet he forced himself to scream in shock because the opponent's attack was so barbaric.
'A headbutt!'
There were those who practiced Iron Head Technique, training their foreheads to attack with their heads.
But at best, they were third-rate ruffians. True masters wouldn't even attempt to attack using the head, where all the body's vital points are concentrated.
Seoryang, panting, managed to grin. His face, soaked in Jung Ilryong's blood, looked as vicious as a demon.
"Huff! Huff! Serves you right, brat."
Seoryang spat out blood-mixed saliva and stomped on Jung Ilryong's knee.
Crunch!
"Aaaaargh!"
Jung Ilryong screamed as his knee shattered.
It wasn't just a broken leg; the joint was crushed, tearing the cartilage. Even if he recovered his martial arts, he would never be able to use one leg for the rest of his life.
"Huff huff! You bastard! Huff huff!"
Seoryang, who was about to break the other leg, suddenly wobbled.
"Huh? Huh?"
Thud!
"Ugh!"
Seoryang gritted his teeth. In the midst of going berserk to kill Jung Ilryong, his body had surpassed its limits.
If it weren't for the recovery power of the Dark Shadow Demonic Art, his entire body's muscles would have ruptured by now.
"Huff! Huff! You, you bastard, just wait a little! Huff huff! I'll tear your limbs off alive!!"
The murderous intent in his voice was no joke.
Jung Ilryong's heart raced with urgency.
He couldn't see properly, and one leg was ruined, but he couldn't just stay there. If that madman got up, he was truly a dead man.
'I have to escape!'
He shouldn't have fought such a person in the first place. He quickly lay flat on the ground.
"Krk."
Blood foam naturally formed in his mouth. Since joining the Righteous Heaven Alliance, no, since he started learning martial arts, he had never been this injured.
His body was paralyzed with pain, and his mind was frozen with fear. He fumbled desperately to escape this place.
Seoryang gritted his teeth.
"Where do you think you're going, you bastard... Ugh!"
The pain was excruciating. His whole body felt like it was on fire.
But he wouldn't lose to pain.
One of his enemies was writhing and crawling on the ground right in front of him.
Get up and finish him off!
'Damn it!'
He couldn't.
Not because of the pain, but structurally it was impossible. If he moved any more, the little demonic energy left would reverse, and he might fall into a state of inner demon deviation.
If he couldn't kill his opponent and ended up in a state of inner demon deviation, suffering alone, how could he live with such regret? Seoryang gritted his teeth and glared at Jung Ilryong.
At that moment, Jung Ilryong glanced behind him. One eye was damaged, so he couldn't see properly, but instinctively he tried to confirm his opponent.
Seoryang's eyes sparked.
In Jung Ilryong's remaining eye, looking at him, there was a mix of anger and fear. Seeing that eye reminded him of the past when someone looked down on him with a white smile.
"...I'll kill you!"
Screech!
The Dark Shadow Demonic Art, which had forcibly closed, reopened.
This time, it wasn't intentional. The rage that had surpassed its limit stimulated the demonic art, and the demonic art accurately read what that emotion wanted.
The demonic art 'understood' that the only way to resolve this emotion was to kill the opponent horribly.
Crunch!
The hand that touched the ground trembled but managed to lift Seoryang's body.
Sizzle! Drip drip!
White smoke rose from his body, and at the same time, blood dripped from his nose.
The Hell Gate Opening Technique unfolded on its own, but there wasn't enough demonic energy to keep the hell gate open.
Naturally, the demonic art had no choice but to touch the source of life, the essence, to maintain that state.
Jung Ilryong couldn't help but be overwhelmed by his opponent's persistence.
'Madman!'
He really couldn't understand. What kind of grudge did he have against someone he'd never seen before to go so far as to touch his essence and get up?
Seoryang lifted his head and glared at Jung Ilryong.
The murderous intent of the guy, whose body, internal energy, and everything else were in tatters, had multiplied several times compared to before.
"Ugh."
Jung Ilryong crawled frantically on the ground. It was no faster than a turtle's crawl, but the fear of dying if he stopped paralyzed his rationality.
But it was no use.
Paak! Crunch!
"Aaaargh!"
In an instant, Seoryang approached and stomped on the broken leg again. The indescribable pain made Jung Ilryong foam at the mouth.
Drip.
Blood continued to pour from his nose.
Even though it wouldn't have been strange if he lost consciousness from excessive bleeding, Seoryang's expression was filled with satisfaction.
Rather, the rage that had risen to his crown seemed to flow down with the pouring blood, easing.
At that moment, Madongpil appeared.
"Young Master!"
Seoryang grinned. It was as if he didn't even know Madongpil had appeared.
"See, you shouldn't have messed with me."
He coldly raised his leg.
His foot aimed directly at Jung Ilryong's neck.
Crack!