Chapter 228

Chapter 228: The Broken Sword (4)

The entire peak seemed to shift.

Long before the mist dissolved, a dark reddish-brown hue began cascading down from the far side of the eastern mountain crest.

Initially, it blended perfectly with the dense vapor.

The russet ribbon bleeding into the profound darkness of the slopes appeared to be an ordinary phenomenon of nature.

Yet, mist moves in complete silence.

Shkk.

Shhkk.

The crisp crunch of boots flattening dead foliage echoed without pause.

This was not the stride of a lone wanderer.

Countless pairs of feet were pounding the earth in perfect synchronization.

Their steps were identical, and the height of their knees rose with mechanical precision.

It was the advance of a massive military force.

Furthermore, it displayed a rigorous discipline carved into their very bones through decades of conditioning.

Russet monk robes.

Clean-shaven scalps.

Attached to their hips were either Crescent Moon Sabers or lengthy lances.

The stream of bodies cascading from the ridge appeared limitless.

The vanguard had already descended to the mountain’s midsection while the rear guard had yet to cross the lower hills, spanning an immense distance.

They did not move in a single file, but in dense, overlapping formations.

The concentration of monks weaving through the forest was immense; rather than a scattered few among the greenery, there was a warrior stationed at nearly every trunk.

Their formation avoided a direct path, curving instead into a wide crescent across the terrain.

Starting from the eastern side, the wings of the host spread toward the northeast and southeast, explicitly positioning themselves to trap the entire mountain within their grasp.

As this great crescent tightened, the available ground on the slope shrank like a closing drawstring bag.

No murderous bloodlust registered on the features of these monks.

One could detect no trace of fury, dread, or frenzy.

With eyelids partially lowered and mouths slightly agape, they collectively droned the identical holy text.

Their countenances did not resemble warriors marching to a bloody conflict, but rather spiritual devotees gathered for a sacred temple ritual.

Yet, beneath those serene expressions hung lethal steel.

With those very lips, they invoked a prayer for absolute butchery.

Na—mu—A—mi—ta—bha.

The sacred hymn drifted up the slopes.

Hundreds of individual cries fused into a singular, overwhelming tide that suffocated the air.

The resonance of these deep, gravelly murmurs echoing through the timber and boulders was far from a peaceful monastic prayer.

It functioned as a literal war anthem.

Within Dong Bongsu’s grip, his blade gave a soft, rhythmic tremor.

The weapon was reacting directly to the cadence of the oncoming boots.

‘Their strength…’

The signatures of energy captured by his Super True Qi Field were multiplying at an alarming rate.

Individually, none posed a threat, hovering merely between the peak of a second-tier warrior and the baseline of a first-tier master.

Still, the initial wave he perceived consisted of roughly two hundred combatants.

This was not their primary army, but merely the forward element.

The steady cadence of footsteps climbing from the mountain’s base remained perfectly unvarying and continuous.

This was no standard scouting party; it was an organized invasion.

Its scale mirrored a tracking squad deployed specifically to eliminate any scattered survivors.

“…”

Darting his eyes with intense focus, Dong Bongsu launched himself through the air.

Paaat!

He accelerated in a straight trajectory the moment his boots left the earth.

Rather than cutting a path through the dense trunks, he bounded upward, utilizing the branches as springboards until he perched atop the highest canopy.

From this vantage point, the entire landscape beneath him was completely visible.

The mass of figures clad in russet monk robes was scaling the slope like an army of insects.

A vanguard of ten warriors wielding Crescent Moon Sabers spearheaded the advance, immediately trailed by five or six ranks of spearmen holding long pikes.

The detachment numbered precisely around two hundred, aligning with his initial estimate.

Had they caught wind of his presence?

The Crescent Moon Saber held by the front commander gave a minute twitch.

Yet, though he searched the sky above, his gaze failed to pinpoint the intruder.

Swoosh.

Dong Bongsu descended from the branches like a phantom, plummeting straight down.

Downward.

Kwaang!

His sudden impact marked his grand opening move.

The Super True Qi Field swelled outward, shifting instantly from a tracking grid into an oppressive weight.

It expanded past a distance of fifty paces, entirely engulfing the oncoming vanguard.

The atmosphere instantly turned sluggish and oppressive.

A trio of monks leading the charge instinctively hoisted their Crescent Moon Sabers, but before they could complete a single swing, the crushing gravity of the Super True Qi Field utterly neutralized their internal energy.

The internal currents within their Meridians backflowed violently, freezing their joints in place.

Left with no alternative, the blade executed its intent seamlessly.

Swoosh.

A solitary arc of steel flashed.

The leading trio collapsed to the earth without uttering a single cry.

Dong Bongsu never broke his stride.

He threw himself into the thick of the hundred-man contingent in a single breath.

With every pass of his weapon, one adversary collapsed, followed immediately by two more.

While the Super True Qi Field paralyzed their internal power beforehand, his blade delivered the final blow.

These actions did not occur in succession, but rather in perfect tandem; the precise instant the boundary of the domain washed over them, the cold edge of the blade was already severing them.

A rogue Crescent Moon Saber came hurtling through the air in his direction.

It originated from a distance beyond the reach of his domain.

This was a specialized detachment tasked with slowing him down using ranged projectile strikes—undoubtedly a sub-unit trained specifically to counteract high-tier martial artists.

Even so.

Spat!

His blade swept upward, effortlessly deflecting the spinning Crescent Moon Saber.

Without halting the momentum, the weapon descended sharply, slicing through the collarbone of a Rakshasa monk directly before him.

The barrage of weapons persisted.

The proficiency of the Rakshasa Monk Corps’ Throwing Squad was remarkably formidable.

The soldiers in the back lines alternated throwing their Crescent Moon Sabers to disrupt the vanguard’s momentum, all while the phalanx of long spears in the core pressed forward—an immaculate display of tactical synchronization.

Naturally.

“…”

Such maneuvers proved entirely futile against a master like Dong Bongsu.

The very instant they stepped inside the perimeter of the Super True Qi Field, their synchronized tactics fractured completely.

The wall of long pikes bore down on him.

Eight long spears lunged outward at the exact same moment.

Their coordination and distance management were flawless.

Yet Dong Bongsu refused to yield even an inch of ground.

The Internal Energy channeled into the shafts dissolved mid-strike, causing the lethal points to lose all momentum.

It became as ineffective as trying to strike someone while submerged in deep water.

Their externalized Qi simply evaporated into nothingness.

His blade glided effortlessly through the openings between the weapons as though navigating an empty clearing.

Clang!

Clang!

Shk!

Three wooden handles were cleanly severed, while two more shattered outright.

The warriors holding the final three weapons were already hitting the dirt.

Shhk, Thud.

Dong Bongsu accelerated the rhythm of his strikes, harvesting his foes like a lumberjack felling a thick thicket of bamboo.

Kaang!

Thwack!

Crack!

It required less than a fraction of an hour to entirely decimate the two hundred warriors comprising the forward group.

Russet monk robes littered the forest floor, with not a single adversary remaining on their feet.

Resting his weapon casually over his shoulder, Dong Bongsu cast his gaze down toward the base of the peak.

“…”

The sensory network of the Super True Qi Field began identifying a fresh wave of targets.

An immense gathering.

Roughly double the size of the previous contingent.

Na—mu—A—mi—ta—bha.

The ominous chorus swelled once more.

Carrying a far denser and more oppressive weight than the initial vanguard’s prayer.

The unified resonance of four hundred throats vibrating in unison caused the very foundations of the peak to tremble.

‘The primary army.’

Dong Bongsu focused his gaze tightly.

“Sect Leader.”

Yan Bilyeong, having closed the distance during the skirmish, called from behind.

She was already unsheathing her blade.

“What are we looking at?”

“Roughly four hundred.”

“Four hundred… and their capabilities?”

“Mainly first-rate. There are several elite first-rate experts among them.”

Yan Bilyeong knitted her eyebrows momentarily before her expression cleared.

A wry expression crossed her features.

Hovering somewhere between a smirk and a grimace.

“Good grief. How did I manage to get dragged into this mess?”

A brief murmur escaped her lips, dissolving into the mountain breeze.

Right behind her, Myo Jinheo let out a quiet laugh as he snapped his fan shut.

A signal that his assessment of the battlefield was finished.

“They are advancing in a broad, horizontal formation, wrapping around the slope in a sweeping crescent.”

“Meaning they have us partially encircled?”

“Precisely. Under the circumstances, pulling back would be the logical choice.”

Yan Bilyeong offered a mocking laugh.

“If our Sect Leader had any intention of running away, he wouldn’t be standing here right now. Why even state the obvious?”

Dong Bongsu remained facing forward.

But the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

He likely couldn’t define the emotion behind it himself.

He had spent his entire life fighting solitary battles, yet he was beginning to realize that coordinating with allies carried a strange sort of appeal.

He also reasoned that this style of combat felt far more appropriate for Kim Rae-won.

“Trigram Master Yan, secure the left flank. Trigram Master Myo, guard our rear.”

“Pardon?”

“The strategy is straightforward. I will spearhead the center, and you two will clean up anyone who slips past me.”

Yan Bilyeong’s eyebrows drew a slight arc upward.

“Well, that sounds exactly like something you would say, Sect Leader Kim. Exactly how many of these bald warriors do you intend to slaughter on your own?”

“Every single one, ideally.”

“So Trigram Master Myo and I are stuck with the scraps?”

“If that arrangement displeases you, feel free to take point.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Dong Bongsu directed the tip of his blade toward the dirt.

The Super True Qi Field surged outward with terrifying speed.

The perimeter of the domain, initially resting at twenty paces, shattered through fifty before stabilizing at a full hundred.

The barometric pressure plummeted, causing every leaf in the vicinity to turn over simultaneously.

Even the natural gales across the ridge ceased completely, creating a vacuum that warped the melody of the approaching prayer.

Na—mu—A…

The steady tempo of the hymn stumbled, causing four hundred voices to falter in unison.

At that exact split second, Dong Bongsu sprang forward once more.

Keeping low to the earth this time.

He carved a perfectly linear path directly through the thick forest.

The four Rakshasa monks directly in his path found their upper limbs severed before they could even hoist their Crescent Moon Sabers.

It seemed entirely fitting that his blade granted no quarter as he plunged deep into the core of the four hundred combatants.

Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-shhk!

A single sweep sent half a dozen souls to the afterlife, yet this main body proved significantly more resilient than the initial forward squad.

Before the integrity of the primary regiment could shatter, they reorganized their lines.

When the front line was pierced, the center ranks parted to engulf the intruder, and if the middle tier was breached, the rear guards rushed forward to plug the vacuum—an exemplary display of grand army tactics.

“…”

Dong Bongsu’s counter-strategy remained uncomplicated.

He merely accelerated the velocity of his weapon.

Rather than a singular or dual trajectory, three distinct lines of force manifested at once.

Even as the Super True Qi Field crushed their Internal Energy, his blade severed flesh in three overlapping layers across all vectors.

Yet they continued to advance relentlessly.

His sight was consumed by the fanatical resolve of the Rakshasa monks, who threw themselves into the meat grinder to maintain their lines even as their comrades perished.

The steady resonance of the sacred hymn seemed to pull their limbs forward mechanically.

These were warriors completely devoid of terror.

A profound insanity, rooted in the conviction that demise brought ultimate liberation, guided their steady advance.

Cutting through an open seam in the host came a brilliant surge of Sword Qi tearing in from the left flank.

Papat!

Yan Bilyeong.

Vaulting off a boulder on the slope, her weapon slashed horizontally, severing the joints of four Rakshasa monks in a single sweeping motion.

She targeted neither their torsos nor their spines, but explicitly their legs.

A meticulously placed strike designed not to execute them, but to permanently rob them of mobility.

Shhk.

Dong Bongsu’s blade severed the defense directly ahead, and the moment the phalanx fractured, Yan Bilyeong glided effortlessly into the opening.

Yan Bilyeong bounded into the exact coordinates Dong Bongsu had just cleared, while Dong Bongsu advanced into the vacuum left by the enemies she had just crippled, pushing forward to the subsequent rank.

They exchanged neither spoken commands nor glances.

Their physical intuition perfectly anticipated where the other’s edge would strike.

Rising above the agonized wails of the crippled monks, Yan Bilyeong’s voice drifted out.

“Wow, why are these guys so tough? I don’t think you can eat them all by yourself if they’re this chewy, you know?”

Her complaints punctuated the intervals between her strikes.

Yet her momentum never faltered.

Her descents and subsequent leaps blended into a seamless flow as she dove headlong into the next cluster of foes.

Booom!

A violent discharge of electricity detonated from the rear.

Myo Jinheo’s Thunderclap Absolute Sealing Circle.

The instant his fan unfurled, a wave of high-voltage current rippled across the entire back division of the Rakshasa Monk Corps.

The metallic elements of their gear and armaments hummed with energy, throwing off wild sparks.

Their muscle tissues seized up and their limbs froze, causing dozens of soldiers in the back rows to stumble all at once.

“I’ll block the rear.”

One sentence.

The fan snapped shut and cracked open a second time.

Booom!

A subsequent discharge of Lightning arced out.

The entire trailing rank came to a complete halt.

The unarmored devotees responsible for sustaining the rhythmic hymn were the first to drop.

With their fall, the continuous resonance of the prayer that had bolstered the morale of the Rakshasa Monk Corps was instantly severed.

Once the holy invocations vanished, nothing remained but raw, panicked shrieks.

Beset from three separate directions at once, the tactical cohesion of the Rakshasa Monk Corps dissolved at an accelerated pace.

From the vanguard position, the Super True Qi Field completely neutralized their inner power while the blade reaped them; from the left flank, Yan Bilyeong’s precise strikes lacerated their perimeter; and from behind, Myo Jinheo’s destructive Lightning sealed off any hope of escape.

It was three warriors against four hundred—or rather, fewer than three hundred now.

Unsurprisingly, the faction being overwhelmed and utterly decimated was the remaining two hundred.

Just then.

The sensory net of the Super True Qi Field registered an entirely different signature located far behind the main host.

Behind the main force.

A massive concentration of Qi was surging from a spot near the very base of the mountain.

Its sheer potency existed on a completely separate plane compared to the hundreds of Rakshasa monks.

If the surrounding signatures resembled mere grains of dust, this presence felt like a solid block of iron.

Furthermore, it was not alone.

Two.

Duuung.

A deep, resonant chime echoed clearly within his consciousness.

【Sub】Rakshasa of Slaughter 【Sudden】:

Certain individuals wield their weapons under the banner of Buddha.

Among the host, two figures possessing immensely powerful steps are directing their malice toward you.

Exercise caution.

Their lethal capabilities appear far from ordinary.

· Defeat the elite commanders of the Rakshasa.

├─ Objective: 2

├─ Status: 0/2

└─ Compensation: Hero History +5, Fame +5

Ssk.

A genuine grin spread across Dong Bongsu’s face.

Because the true feast, rather than the scraps, was finally arriving.