Giant Demon (2)

The Giant Demon Jeo Ung-won was seething with rage.

Those fools! He had assigned not one, but two men each with more than seventy years of cultivation, and yet they had failed miserably and returned with only one survivor.

According to Ghost-Rending Sabre So Yurung, one subordinate might still be alive, but that would only be certain if the man actually returned.

If he did not, their number—originally ten—would be reduced to five.

It was a serious problem.

Not because the Giant Demon valued their lives, but because if he failed the task entrusted by the Little Demon Lord Sa Wonyang, his own life would be in danger.

“You worthless fools!”

Unable to suppress his fury, Jeo Ung-won roared. So Yurung knelt with his head bowed low.

He had the urge to crush that irritating skull then and there, but he restrained himself.

If he killed So Yurung, they would be left with only four.

Besides, among the survivors, So Yurung was the most capable.

“Uaaaahhh!”

Roaring to vent his boiling anger, Jeo Ung-won suddenly remembered the woman he had left with one of his men.

He turned toward her with blazing eyes.

She was the sixth woman out of ten they had brought.

Of the ten women Sa Wonyang had sent, five were already dead—used up and discarded.

And only because Sa Wonyang had warned him not to draw further attention did he refrain from abducting more women elsewhere. Instead, he kept the ones already delivered, taking them out one by one.

Thus, five remained.

But today, in his foul mood, he felt he could not restrain himself.

He needed to break one completely to vent his wrath.

“Bring her to me!”

Jeo Ung-won glared at the underling holding the woman.

The woman, already shedding endless tears, now had eyes full of despair.

It seemed everything was over.

Then—

“Yup-cha!”

A masked man in black suddenly vaulted the wall and landed in the yard.

The Blood Cultists gasped in alarm.

“Who are you?!”

“What bastard is this?!”

But the masked man also looked startled.

He shouted in a louder voice.

“What?! You’re the Giant Demon Jeo Ung-won?!”

Jeo Ung-won’s eyes widened.

‘He recognized me?! How?!’

Jeo Ung-won barked in haste.

“Who are you—?!”

But he never finished the question.

The masked man suddenly leapt away, darting back over the wall to flee.

Pababak!

The Blood Cultists froze at the speed of the retreat, then quickly gathered their wits and gave chase.

“You!”

“Stop!”

But Jeo Ung-won roared.

“Stop! You guard this place. I’ll catch him myself!”

Leaving his men behind, the massive Jeo Ung-won vaulted the wall like a swallow, chasing the masked man.

‘He recognized me—I can’t let him live!’

If word of his presence spread, he would be finished.

This time, the Little Demon Lord would surely kill him.

He could not entrust this to his subordinates.

He had to handle it himself.

Jeo Ung-won ran at his utmost speed.

Yet, strangely, the distance to the seemingly weak masked man did not close.

The man was clearly a master of movement arts.

But Jeo Ung-won did not know—

Bi Sayoung was deliberately holding pace, luring him away.

‘Fast enough… then I’ll….’

Jeo Ung-won began to focus his inner power.

At the same time.

When Jeo Ung-won chased Bi Sayoung over the wall, Sag Muhun sent me a transmission.

-We don’t know when he’ll return. Let’s move now!

But I stopped him.

-Wait, Brother Sag. Just a little longer.

Even now, there was no guarantee we could win if we charged in.

Their side held one early-pinnacle master, one certain pinnacle master with seventy years of cultivation, and two top first-rates.

On ours, only Brother Sag with seventy years of power and myself, just entering the pinnacle stage.

We would be at a disadvantage.

Sag Muhun urged impatiently.

-Either way, to strike we must enter the manor yard itself. There’s no way to ambush. Better to throw everything in at once.

He was right.

We could not ambush them from the open yard, and the Giant Demon might return at any moment.

Yet I saw another possibility.

Just count to ten. By then, they’d surely….

Even as I transmitted, one of the Blood Cultists spoke.

“What about this woman? Are we just going to sit and watch her, brother?”

I sneered inwardly.

As expected. Typical Blood Cult scum.

No need to wait for ten counts.

The strongest among them scoffed.

“Ha! What, you want to touch her first? Do that and the master will tear us apart.”

It was a surprisingly rational answer for a Blood Cultist.

Disappointing.

But while I felt a flicker of disappointment, the others showed their true colors.

One smirked slyly.

“Of course we can’t take her first, but touching a little shouldn’t matter, right? No marks left behind.”

“Hm?”

The strong one hesitated, tempted.

After a moment’s thought, he relented.

“Fine. As long as it’s just touching. If we don’t get caught.”

The schemer grinned broadly.

“Exactly, brother!”

“Then one of us watches for the master while the rest enjoy ourselves.”

“Yes! Good idea!”

Laughing, they chose a lookout.

Naturally, the two pinnacle men refused, leaving the task to the first-rate subordinates.

The unlucky one picked was the same fool who’d made the suggestion.

“Wha—how unfair….”

“Keh-heh, tough luck.”

“Such is your fate.”

“If there’s time, we’ll switch later. Now watch carefully.”

With a dejected face, the man trudged toward the wall.

The other three turned eagerly toward the weeping woman, still immobilized by pressure point strikes.

And then—

Now!

Pababak!

We burst from outside the wall like lightning.

The unlucky lookout’s eyes widened as he scrambled for his sabre.

“You—!”

Chang!

Shwaak!

But as we passed him on either side, a red spray burst from his neck.

While my sword clashed with his blade, Brother Sag’s sword had brushed across his throat.

We immediately pressed forward, hurling hidden weapons.

“Haaaap!”

“Hyup!”

Whirrrr!

The others, distracted by the woman, reeled in shock but quickly drew their weapons.

They spread apart, dodging or deflecting our projectiles.

“Tch!”

“Not so fast!”

Cha-chang! Cha-chang!

The two pinnacle masters would not fall so easily. But the first-rate would.

“Ghhhk….”

The last first-rate staggered back, clutching my throwing knife in his throat, and collapsed.

Only the two pinnacle masters remained.

Brother Sag and I exchanged a glance, then split to engage separately.

I took the one with over seventy years of power; Brother Sag the early-pinnacle.

“Haaaap!”

The First Flash of the Seonu Thirteen Swords—Responding Wing.

Sword-light flared like unfurled wings as I struck.

But my opponent sneered and met me with his sabre.

“Tch! Parlor tricks!”

Shraaaak!

His sabre ripped the air with ferocity.

My sword-wings split apart in an instant.

But I was no longer there.

Using Thousand Wind Steps, I flowed behind him.

Again, my sword-light wings flared.

“Haaaap!”

Shwaaaak!

Though swift and fluid, the difference in skill was too great.

He spun, sweeping his sabre horizontally, and shattered my sword-light.

“Enough nonsense!”

Shraaaak!

But once more, my form vanished to his rear.

I had deliberately lured his eyes with phantom blades, circling with superior movement arts.

Though stronger, he grew frustrated as he failed to strike me.

Scowling, he shouted.

“Is this ghost play?!”

Ghost play… indeed.

It was why Brother Sag and I had switched opponents.

Even against someone stronger, I could buy time with my tricks.

I glanced aside—Brother Sag was battering his foe with fierce attacks. The other pinnacle’s swordwork faltered. He would soon fall.

My opponent realized this too, and his face twisted as he charged at me desperately.

“You die here!”

Shruuuk!

His sabre burst with crimson qi, spreading like a net.

It was the perfect technique against someone weaker—broad, crushing, leaving no room to dodge.

Against me, a suitable tactic.

If not for Thousand Wind Steps.

Grinning, I slipped back like a ghost.

And then I unleashed the secret of Thousand Wind Steps—
Thousand Winds Scatter Blossoms.

Shwaaa!

My figure fragmented into countless petals scattered by the wind.

An art so advanced even Bi Sayoung had yet to master.

“What—what is this?!”

My phantasmal petals swirled all around him.

And then I struck.

The Thirteenth Form of the Seonu Thirteen Swords— Phantom Sword Realm.

Shwaaaa!

My blade split into hundreds, surrounding him like a meteor shower.

“Impossible?!”

Panicked, he slashed wildly, crimson qi tearing every direction.

I had learned before that illusions failed against higher masters, leaving gaps.

But not Phantom Sword Realm.

Its sheer volume of phantoms left no opening.

He roared, flooding the yard with crimson qi.

“Haahhh!”

Shruaaak!

My illusory blades scattered like smoke.

The flaw of Phantom Sword Realm— no matter how many phantoms I created, they were still illusions. They inflicted no real harm.

And the strain drained my own energy more than his.

Which was why I rarely used it.

My foe sneered in relief.

“Futile tricks….”

But that was when my true attack came.

He still could not find me.

He had overextended himself, swinging wildly.

And I had something new—

The Four-One Sword Method of the Diancang Sect.

From his back I struck, without hesitation.

The First Form— One Breath, One Kill.

My blade flashed like a ray of light and pierced through his back.

Puuk!

“Ghhhk!”

He coughed blood, eyes wide with disbelief, and looked at me.

I smirked.

I could not contain my laughter.

I had slain a superior opponent.

Exhilaration flooded me.

“Well, well. You’re making me feel inadequate.”

I turned. Brother Sag stood there, smiling wryly, his opponent’s chest freshly cut open.

“Luck.” I said.

“He underestimated me, thinking I was weaker.”

“You nearly killed me last time too. Perhaps you’re the luckiest man alive. But luck repeated is skill.”

I laughed awkwardly at his praise, then we hurried to release the woman’s pressure points.

Her face streaked with tears, she spoke calmly despite her ordeal.

“I am Jeong Yeon, disciple of Emei. I thank my saviors.”

We froze.

“What? You’re a disciple of Emei?!”

“Yes, I am of the twenty-fifth generation of the sect.”

We had not expected this.

Though weakened since the Great Righteous–Blood War, Emei was still one of the Nine Great Sects.

And one of its disciples had been captured by Blood Cult warlords.

As we reeled, she continued.

“Beneath this manor are one fellow disciple and three other women still imprisoned. I beg you to rescue them as well.”

Her body still trembled from long immobilization.

We nodded firmly.

“Of course, miss. Leave it to us.”

We had to move quickly.

Who knew how long Bi Sayoung could keep the Giant Demon away?

But then—

From the forest, I felt a presence flying toward us.

It was the Giant Demon.

I turned to Sag Muhun.

“Brother Sag! Please protect this young lady! I’ll draw him off agai—”

But I cut off mid-sentence.

For the Giant Demon was already perched atop the wall, enormous body light as a bird.

“What’s this? More rats than I thought?”

My eyes widened in horror.

In his hand, dangling lifelessly— was Bi Sayoung.