Chapter 317

Chapter 317
## Chapter 317

Reconnaissance (3)

A ferocious vibration tore through the atmosphere as colossally swollen muscle fibers bunched and strained.

Snap— Crackle!

Primitive markings, painting the monstrous, virtually non-human torso, rippled like living serpents, and a suffocating pressure, as though gravity itself had doubled, saturated the air.

“The atmosphere here is… distinct! Hmph, not terrible! Bwahaha!”

The sinew-bound leviathan, Harley, the tribal brawler from an alternate reality, uncoiled his frame and let loose a booming roar of amusement.

Flap—

Screech— Screech—

His cataclysmic mirth sent swarms of avian creatures fleeing in every direction, though he paid them no mind.

He scanned the landscape, then commenced his advance, each stride heavy and calculated.

‘Harley is the ideal instrument for this assignment.’

Even leaving Harris aside, other options had existed.

Heinrich, whose temperament was a terrible match, alongside Hans and Heinz the Second, who were decent alternatives.

‘Yet they are ill-suited for this specific endeavor. I will require their strengths for alternative matters down the road.’

Particularly when confronting the Demonic Cult and the Blood Cult, the sinister organizations he had uncovered while gathering intel regarding Ganghwange.

They shared traits with the necromancers and blood-drinkers of Auterica, demanding extreme prudence when orchestrating an approach.

‘I cannot gamble on tipping them off ahead of schedule. They flourish amidst instability, and the depth of their reach remains a mystery.’

Viewed in that light, Harley, an expert in ruin and chaos, a mobile engine of annihilation, was an invaluable tool.

Furthermore, provided he refrained from unleashing his shapeshifting trait, he merely resembled a martial artist who had pushed his external physical conditioning to the absolute pinnacle, which served as a convenient deception.

‘Hmm, is his garb a trifle too… eye-catching?’

Harley cast his gaze downward at his frame.

His exposed torso, mapped with sinew and tribal markings, his hide trousers, and his bare soles…

“Hmm.”

He rubbed the rear of his skull, his palms scraping against the predatory pelt he sported as a headpiece.

It was undeniably bizarre clothing for this realm…

“…Regardless!”

But what alternative existed?

The situation had been identical back in Auterica.

Initially, numerous critics had disdained him, yet currently, not a soul dared show him insolence.

That mandated etiquette instruction had yielded proper fruits.

Therefore, he simply needed to replicate that strategy here in Ganghwange.

He might even pioneer a novel sartorial craze!

‘The authentic combatant’s wardrobe!’

Furthermore, an immediate objective required his attention.

Harley’s strides lengthened, his colossal mass picking up momentum.

Thud—

The earth quaked with every impact, the vibrations magnifying.

Suddenly, his silhouette smeared, leaving a gale-force vacuum in his path as he rocketed forward.

His trajectory bore no resemblance to recognized martial arts maneuvers, lacking elegant pacing or weightless bounds…

“Bwahaha! Moment to propagate the Harley philosophy!”

…Yet he possessed no need for such petty methodologies.

He existed as a cataclysm, a paradox, an entity of raw, unmitigated dominance.

Consequently, the apex stalker, liberated into this environment, commenced his pursuit.

The consequences materialized without delay.

—

Rattle— Rattle— Thump—

The clatter of equine hooves and rolling wagons reverberated across the ridges.

A caravan of travelers, moving in disciplined alignment down a faint trail, maintained a composed and serene rhythm.

A serene alpine passage, unmarred by any strife.

“This feels unnatural.”

A member of the group, a Zhuge Clan combatant, his gaze piercing and hyper-focused, spoke in a low tone.

He gripped the pommel of his blade continuously, his expression rigid.

“Why this sudden quiet? Barely days prior, they raided us without intermission… and now, this abrupt stillness… It feels as though a storm is brewing…”

“Hey! Keep your tongue checked! Pronouncements invite reality!”

“I am merely suggesting we maintain vigilance…”

“Just hold your peace!”

He fell silent, quieted by his comrade’s scolding and the sharp rebukes in the eyes of his peers.

He comprehended that every individual present was riding the same edge of anxiety.

Rattle— Rattle—

The Zhuge Clan vanguards maintained their advance in muteness, the environment heavy with unvoiced apprehension.

Merely forty-eight hours ago, they had endured ceaseless ambushes, scarcely finding an interval to draw breath… yet now, the massive offensives had ceased entirely, without explanation.

Minor skirmishes with fragmented cells persisted, but the relentless sieges that kept them perpetually on edge had evaporated.

It was an ominous tranquility, a pregnant pause.

As they braced for the inevitable impact,

“Exhale…”

Hugo, completely detached from their distress, reposed within a wagon, eyelids lowered, his consciousness serene.

‘At last, tranquility. I ought to have initiated this earlier.’

His composure stemmed from the fact that he was the architect of the present stillness.

Should those irritating gnats persist in disrupting their journey, he simply had to guarantee they could not even cross the perimeter.

With Harley clearing the path ahead and neutralizing any looming hazards, he had successfully channeled his focus into internal cultivation, entirely absorbed in his private domain.

‘The methodology is already within my grasp.’

He oriented his consciousness, and the passage of moments seemed to decelerate around his form.

His awareness intensified; he registered every singular pore on his exterior, and the circulation of Ki materialized as a distinct, lucid current.

‘Converge.’

The environmental essence, distinct from the internal Ki he drew through respiratory cycles, resisted integration, hovering stubbornly at the perimeter of his flesh, yet his resolve never wavered.

He had guided multiple ascended entities to fruition. He held no doubt he could navigate this trivial hurdle.

‘Converge.’

The force he sought to direct, the foundational axioms of this realm, the setting, his physical vessel… everything was disparate, yet…

Given the appropriate spark…

His awareness, already elevated to a superior tier, stood prepared to integrate it.

Twitch—

A microscopic tremor manifested as a thread of Ki brushed against a single hair on his flesh.

The wagon persisted in its rattling and swaying, yet it failed to disrupt his hyper-focus.

‘Converge.’

He had bypassed nourishment, engaging in unbroken contemplation and discipline, having extracted consent from his traveling peers.

Following what mapping of time felt like an age,

The slippery revelation, which had persistently eluded him, finally commenced to solidify, arriving within his grasp.

He summoned the recollection of the breakthrough Harris had undergone while ascending via physical cultivation and locked onto it with iron certainty.

‘…There you are.’

And at that exact threshold—.

《The subject satisfies the criteria and achieves realization. The competencies “Circulation of Energy”, “Underwater Breathing”, “Clear Mind”, and “Tough” have consolidated and transmuted into the unique capability “Heavenly Ki Body”.》

…A sensation of profound deliverance washed through his being, akin to the shattering of iron bonds, and he perceived the realm’s natural energy surging unhindered through his internal pathways.

An alien and magnificent phenomenon occurred as his core anatomy shifted, sinew and skeletal framework self-correcting, remodeling to accommodate the unaccustomed matrix of force.

He parted his eyelids, a subtle grin surfacing on his features.

“This dynamic is…”

—

“—Magnificent! Bwahaha!”

Crash—

A structure, among the loftiest within the sprawling compound, imploded, punctuated by an ostentatious burst of laughter that saturated the atmosphere.

A column of powderized masonry and shattered timber billowed skyward, yet nobody spared it a glance.

It lacked any significance, given the current state of the compound. Virtually nothing remained undamaged.

This applied to the inhabitants as well.

“Argh… You abomination…!”

A mature male, his skeletal structure completely pulverized, rested on the earth, spitting crimson fluid.

Gouts of lifeblood issued from his maw like a torrent, yet that ranked low among his immediate catastrophes.

He twisted his neck, his perception fracturing, assessing the carnage enveloping him.

Scores of shapes rested motionless, their garments saturated in crimson.

These were the vanguard of the Shura Sect, featuring the Second Elder, his premier lieutenant. They were never meant to terminate their journey in this manner, discarded across the earth like shattered playthings.

“Ugh… You… For what reason…!”

His eyes wept crimson as he glared at the instigator of this ruin.

Clear vision eluded him, yet identifying his tormentor required no great effort.

That colossal, terrifying silhouette was permanently seared into his memory.

‘Minimum peak master-tier… No, he is unequivocally a Mysterious Realm practitioner. Yet a figure boasting such an unforgettable profile should not be an obscurity… ’

Their integrated counter-attacks, multiplied by their tactical battle阵, had proven futile.

The indentations carved by his own strikes and those of the Second Elder had knitted together instantaneously, while the lesser offensives failed to even scratch the surface.

This was the legendary Diamond Body, an almost mythical tier of anatomical invulnerability, unlocked solely by masters who had pushed external cultivation to the absolute zenith.

As for his strikes… the sheer momentum behind every impact sufficed to crater the topography.

Their immediate subdual ceased to be a mystery.

“Ugh… You… Identity?! What malice drives you against our name?!”

He bellowed, his tone saturated with fury and indignation.

By all rights, his demise should have occurred already, yet his vital spark, fortified by decades of energetic refinement, obstinately anchored itself to his mangled chassis.

It was a temporary reprieve, regardless.

“Eh? What irony is this? ‘The pot calling the kettle black’? You lack the memory of your own operations. My, my.”

“P-pot… calling…?”

“Ah? Was that not a common idiom in this region? No matter! Disregard it! Bwahaha!”

He had maintained this boisterous amusement and aggressive momentum throughout the entire engagement, and currently, with the dust settling, he was indulging in banter?

The Shura Sect Leader lowered his eyelids, fighting to stabilize his failing respiratory system, then targeted him with another venomous stare.

He deciphered the underlying message of those remarks.

The giant had descended upon them functioning as an instrument of retribution, unable to countenance their wicked operations.

“…Consequently, our endeavors offended your sensibilities? Yet do you fail to perceive that your current conduct mirrors our own…?”

“Listen, I possess zero interest in your ethical debates. I execute whatever pleases me.”

“…Ugh! Who… What are you?! Unmask your title! Surely you harbor no intention of masking your name at this juncture?!”

His internal pressure surged at the indifferent rejection, prompting another expectoration of crimson as he demanded the titan’s designation.

He required the knowledge of who had dismantled his order prior to crossing the veil of demise.

Perhaps swayed by the depth of his desperation, the titan finally relented.

“Well, it carries minimal consequence… Identify me as… Mad Demon!”

The title emerged more as a mockery than a genuine revelation.

It offered zero solace to the Shura Sect Leader.

“…Mad Demon? Mad Demon? Preposterous! Do you take me for an idiot unaware of his likeness?! Are you deriving amusement from my state?!”

The moniker ‘Mad Demon’ was already claimed by an active entity.

An individual currently carving a path of notoriety across the land.

He deduced his tormentor was merely toys with him, and he spat more blood, his fury reaching a boiling point.

“Oh, truly? A practitioner is currently utilizing that designation?”

Harley merely rolled his shoulders, entirely untroubled.

He made a clicking sound with his tongue, a shadow of dissatisfaction crossing his features.

“I shall require a consultation with him, then. Inform him to select an alternate moniker. This one belongs to me now. Should he prove uncooperative… I shall simply fracture his vertebrae.”

He remarked with total nonchalance, his delivery chillingly indifferent.

“…Wh-what…!”

“Your vocabulary is excessive. I have granted you sufficient audience. My schedule holds extreme worth!”

“…Worth?”

The Shura Sect Leader knit his brows, bewildered by the abrupt shift in focus.

What concept was he implying…

“Granted, extracting it from the debris might pose an inconvenience now, but I am confident the premier items reside within the treasury. I lack the leisure to gather every minor bauble.”

“…Hold…!”

“Farewell, companion. Attempt a more righteous path in your subsequent incarnation.”

“You are the true…!”

Snap!

With that final sound, the dialogue ceased permanently.

Harley whistled a jaunty melody as he commenced sorting through the wreckage.

The shattered masonry, levitating and rearranging under his dominion courtesy of 「Gem Eye: Coercion」, presented a breathtaking spectacle… yet no living soul remained to observe the display.

“Oh! Discovered! This constitutes quite a fortune!”

The remaining disciples of the Shura Sect, alongside the local populaces, had vanished into the horizon long ago.