Chapter 342

Chapter 342
“Hold on! What is the reason for heading in this direction?”

Look at this guy. He still speaks so bluntly.

“Commander-Nim.”

“…Why exactly are we traveling this way, Commander… Nim? It seems… completely backward from the way we entered.”

I answered Go-a-ryeom, a former disciple of the Kunlun Sect who currently belonged to the **1st Squad (Il-dae)**.

“The eastern route isn’t the sole way out.”

It was only logical to assume that the trail we entered from would be our means of escape. In fact, the eastern gate was the exact path chosen by the fleeing defectors under Gong-dong’s command.

“…In that case, where are we heading?”

“Of course, we are marching West.”

“…T—The West?”

“Precisely.”

“But over there is…”

“You are right. That is where the Demonic Realm (*Ma-gyeong*) lies.”

A particular query had occupied my mind ever since I began charting this strategy. What was the reason behind their specific movements? I had no doubt that their ultimate goal was our total annihilation. Assuming that was true, why were they maneuvering like this? They had access to countless strategies that would have been far more efficient and deadly. Without wasting time on petty parlor tricks like a Spirit’s curse, they possessed plenty of options to charge forward like flesh-devouring fiends, completely unconcerned with retreat, resembling the lunatics they truly were when fighting.

Yet, they refrained from doing so. Why? The explanation turned out to be remarkably straightforward.

The Spiritual Veins.

The reality that they remained concealed until our forces had completely assembled at the heart of the encampment. The way they drove the remaining survivors directly into the fortress. Even the detail that the murderous malice radiating from the active Heaven and Earth Net felt weaker than the version of the Heaven and Earth Net they had initially implemented—every single clue pointed to the identical conclusion. They were not exempt from the constraints imposed by the currents of the ‘Spiritual Veins’ either. In truth, it was highly probable that the essence flowing through these spiritual channels clashed violently with the specific ‘demonic energy’ radiating from their own bodies.

Operating under this hypothesis, everything began to align. It explained why the foul monsters, which previously held back until provoked, suddenly began launching strikes. It also accounted for why they mobilized the Jeok-eum-ma-rang-dan—a unit whose demonic energy was relatively mild—despite seeking our complete slaughter; every piece of the puzzle locked into place. This exact reasoning guided our trek toward the Demonic Realm. While the journey before us was bound to grow far more exhausting and perilous, our pursuers would suffer the exact same hardships. If they wished to ambush us, they would be forced to contend with those ravenous monsters as well.

This was the initial wrench I intended to throw into their grand plans.

“A—A demonic creature has appeared!”

Before we could even collide with the outer boundary of the Demonic Cult’s blockade, we crossed paths with a mutated beast dripping with bloodlust.

“Look at its eyes… they are completely crimson!”

Perhaps driven utterly mad by prolonged submersion in such concentrated malice, the One-legged Rakshasa (*Dok-gak-sin-sa*) lunged violently toward our group the instant we came into view.

*Thud, thud, thud!*
*Slam! Bang!*

Because I had assembled a vanguard boasting the highest physical impact and deepest internal strength, the One-legged Rakshasa was obliterated on the spot, failing to leave behind even a single shard of bone. However, I could hardly praise their excessive display of force.

“Do you honestly think your battles conclude by tomorrow morning?! Learn to regulate your strength properly!”

Our primary adversaries were not these wild beasts. Besides, if they kept squandering their spiritual reserves until their targets were reduced to unrecognizable paste, not a single warrior in the **1st Battalion (Il-dae-dae)** would manage to remain on their feet by nightfall.

“There will be no pauses on this march. Expect to go at least three full days without a moment of rest, sleep, or a chance to mend your internal reserves.”

“Understood!”

The acknowledgment rang out, rigid with absolute obedience. It appeared they had finally comprehended the sheer gravity of our predicament.

“…”

We simply sprinted forward. Whenever a monster crossed our path mid-stride, we engaged it, using those brief clashes to refine our teamwork step by step. The fundamental reason I demanded unquestioning loyalty from these trainees from the very beginning was to deploy a specific penetration array. It was an offensive layout heavily utilized during the final phases of the Great War between Justice and Evil. This particular strategy belonged to a combat detachment formed not for political display, but for genuine slaughter and desperate retreats. The central focus of this extraction method was ensuring the maximum number of survivors while sustaining minimal casualties.

Consequently, I issued a single, unyielding directive.

[Do not let your pace falter for any reason.]

This rule remained unbroken even when facing a foe. If a clean kill was impossible, you simply abandoned the target and kept moving. The warriors bringing up the rear would clean up the mess. That was the explicit purpose of this tactical layout and the way our ranks were structured. I had no idea what our body count would look like. To my recollection, I had never commanded an assembly of such green fighters even during my previous existence. Even so, I placed my faith in them. I had, after all, rounded up the finest talents from every major faction. If they displayed even a fraction of the competence they boasted of, we would manage to break free with a remarkably low number of losses.

After a considerable distance of sprinting, Il-gak, drenched from head to toe in the foul fluids of the slain monsters, called out to me in a rush.

“Jin Si-ju!!”

I told him to address me as Commander. Raising my eyes, I spotted the murky silhouettes of the Demonic Cult’s foot soldiers flickering through the thick trees ahead.

“Every squadron, ready your arms for an engagement!!!”

The blades came out across the board, not just from the **1st Squad (Il-dae)** leading our charge, but from every single fighter present.

“Charge!!!”

Following my roar, the **3rd Squad (Sam-dae)** and the **4th Squad (Sa-dae)** branched off to form the left and right flanks. In contrast to the well-rounded martial artists of the 1st Squad, the 3rd and 4th Squads were comprised of individuals specializing in devastating, decisive strikes, acting as the piercing tip designed to tear open the enemy’s blockade.

*Slam, roar.*
*Thud! Crash!*

The opposing forces collided with a thunderous impact that threatened to shatter our hearing. Given that this was the very first massive skirmish for these disciples, casualties mounted at an alarming pace from the onset.

“Arrgh!”
“Ugh!”

During standard training matches, a martial artist adopts a formal posture and employs misdirection to test their challenger’s capabilities. However—

“Ngh!”

—if they failed to purge themselves of such routine tendencies, they would never last in a true warzone. A decisive, lethal blow! A foe’s life had to be snuffed out using a single form. Otherwise, in the very next breath, they would be the ones ending yours.

‘I drummed it into their heads repeatedly…!’

Yet, deeply ingrained behaviors are difficult to abandon in an instant. To make matters worse, they were currently trapped in a chaotic crisis while being swarmed by an endless sea of adversaries. Keeping a clear head under such stress was nearly impossible.

‘I must conserve my own spiritual reserves.’

There was no luxury for extensive tactical deliberations. With every casualty we suffered, our collective chances of making it out alive dwindled further.

*Tremble, shake.*

A violent, restless tremor pulsed through my palm.

“Wake the hell up, you idiots!”

Shouting obscenities, I unleashed the Gwang-cheon Divine Palm.

*Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud!*

In an instant, a brief clearance manifested before us, yet the cultists rushed forward to seal the breach immediately, behaving exactly like water rushing back into a displaced pool.

“Forget the trickery! Execute them with a single blow! If we fail to puncture their lines right now, none of us are leaving this place alive!”

“Bust through!”
“Keep moving forward!!”

Regaining their focus, the combatants of the 3rd and 4th Squads bellowed with fierce determination. Meanwhile, the auxiliary reinforcements of the **5th (O-dae)** and **6th (Yuk-dae)** Squads quickly stepped forward to bridge the gaps left by their fallen comrades. Operating in perfect unison, the Sa-hwal-dan transformed into a unified projectile, driving relentlessly into the enemy blockade.

I executed the So-cheon Sword Technique, drawing directly from the experiences of my previous life. I lashed out with desperate fury, driven entirely by the primal urge to stay alive. Yet, a fundamental difference existed now—the final impact of my strikes. While the So-cheon Sword Technique of my previous existence had been entirely occupied with desperately deflecting the blades of fiends—

*Slice! Rip! Tear! Cleave!*

—my current execution of the So-cheon Sword Technique severed the heretics apart with blinding waves of sword-light. Rather than being drenched in and choking on my own blood or that of my allies, I found myself soaked in and consuming the foul ichor of the slain cultists.

A single stride forward, followed by another. I advanced continuously, a stark contrast to my former life where every strike was accompanied by a step backward. In that moment, a profound realization struck me. When you wield a blade while falling back, your weapon only witnesses the demise of your allies; but when you wield it while charging ahead, your blade witnesses nothing but the destruction of your foes.

“Keep pushing forward!!!”

A tempest of raw, volatile feelings erupted alongside my shout. Despite the adversaries standing as firm as an unyielding metal barricade or tangled undergrowth, subtle fractures finally began to manifest in their unbreakable formation. The obscured scenery of the Muk-rim, previously hidden behind the dense wall of bodies, gradually started coming into view.

“Do not stop!!!”

Stealing a quick look to my flank, I saw Nam-hwa-seong, drenched entirely in crimson, bellowing with the ferocity of a wild beast. The warriors of the 2nd Squad, operating with newfound solidarity, joined their voices to his in a collective battle cry.

“Forward!”
“Tear them apart!”
“Slay them all!!!”

The 1st and 2nd Squads made a synchronized surge ahead. Our piercing point grew increasingly lethal, forcing the enemy’s defensive ring to buckle under the pressure. And then—

“Their lines are breaking!”
“Charge through!!!”

At long last, the cultists started to yield ground. Channeling the full might of the Tae-eul True Scripture, I unleashed the devastating Man-hae-cheon-ji Sword Technique. With the manifestation of ten thousand ethereal blades joined by the execution of the Ssang-cheon Sword Technique, a cataclysmic tempest of razor-sharp energy ravaged the immediate vicinity.

*Crack, boom!*

Recognizing their imminent peril, our adversaries abandoned their organized ranks and unleashed the dark, suppressed demonic energy within them.

*Bang! Thud! Crash!*

As the countless blades collided with the dark aura, a sequence of violent concussions rocked the battlefield. Immediately after, Il-gak triggered his Great Vehicle Brahma Divine Power, flooding the field with a dazzling radiance and deafening reverberations. Taking advantage of the chaos, the elite fighters of the 1st Squad unleashed their own supreme techniques in rapid succession.

*Boom, flash, crack, bang!*

The aftermath resembled the devastation left behind by a catastrophic lightning strike, completely altering the terrain. The members of the Demonic Cult who failed to withdraw quickly enough caught the full brunt of the assault, creating a definitive breach in their blockade.

“Sprint!!!”

The narrow gap in the line expanded significantly as the 3rd and 4th Squads mowed down nearby threats while continuing their forward momentum. Before the surviving cultists could shake off the concussive shockwaves to regroup, the rest of our forces, spearheaded by the 5th Squad, struck them down to successfully clear the perimeter.

“Pant! Pant! Pant!”
“Ugh… cold air…!”

Lungs burned fiercely as the fighters gasped for breath, their energy spent from surviving such a chaotic meat grinder for the very first time. A significant portion of the disciples found themselves completely drained, having endured an overwhelming ordeal that emptied their physical reserves in a matter of minutes. Regardless, halting our progress was out of the question; pausing meant allowing ourselves to be boxed in once more. At this point, simply slipping past the lethal constraints of the murderous Heaven and Earth Net was a massive victory. Once again, I forcefully reiterated our sole non-negotiable rule.

“Our destination is the Demonic Realm! Keep your pace until we cross into the Demonic Realm! Only then will I adjust our speed!”

I deliberately avoided promising them a true rest. Offering false optimism to an exhausted body usually results in a sudden, total collapse. My goal was to anchor their focus entirely on our current desperate struggle against hopelessness, making them accept that putting one foot in front of the other was our sole path forward. This kept their minds from wandering, ensuring their limbs kept moving mechanically.

“Ji—Jin Si-ju. The adversaries we just engaged…”

Naturally, the ones who let their minds stray are always the ones who bring up complications.

“Il-gak. We discuss everything after we survive this.”

“…”

The more perceptive individuals among us had undoubtedly deduced the truth by now regarding the nature of the martial styles employed by our attackers. The heavy, repulsive sensation radiating from that dark energy was far too distinct to be brushed aside as a trick of the mind or mere happenstance.

“At this exact moment, the identity of our enemy is entirely irrelevant. Keeping ourselves breathing is the sole objective that matters.”

It was foolish to think that passing the blockade meant we were safe. Had that been the case, the defectors would never have triggered that crimson distress signal. Additional traps and subsequent ambushes undoubtedly awaited us further down the line. I shifted my gaze toward the **5th Squad (O-dae)**, the group containing the majority of my close companions. As we ran, my eyes locked with Eun-ho’s. To my relief, he looked deeply focused and resolute. Even someone as composed as Eun-ho found it impossible to completely mask the tension showing on his face.

‘May they pull through this safely…’

With a quiet prayer, I deliberately forced all anxiety regarding my companions from my consciousness. Dwelling on them would only compromise my ability to guide everyone to safety. While it felt harsh to demand more from people who had barely escaped death’s door, the warning could not wait.

“Do not falter! Survival lies just beyond!”

“””Understood!”””

In contrast to our departure, affirmations now echoed back from all corners of the formation. A single brutal skirmish had thoroughly driven the lesson home. Their prestigious lineages and their academic standing had lost all significance out here. The same reality applied to me. The time had come to set aside my current identity as the Black Flame Dragon and assume the role of the self-sacrificing shield from my previous existence.

“Thirty feet ahead! Focus on the thickets spanning fifty feet wide!”

Prompted by my warning, the fighters of the 1st Squad gathered their internal energy into their palms simultaneously.

“Release!”

Obeying the order, a coordinated volley of strike-force erupted from their hands, precisely measured to be effective without wasting excessive energy. The concealed natural formation (*Cheon-yeon-jin*) shattered instantly under the impact, forging a clear avenue for the trainees to advance. While this display risked signaling our whereabouts to our pursuers, there was no alternative strategy. Failing to clear these hazards meant abandoning the slower members of our group.

“Gasp, pant, gasp!”

Just as anticipated, the strain of dismantling the natural formation pushed several martial artists to their absolute physical limits. Right on cue—

“Rotate the vanguard!”

The commanding voice of the 2nd Squad Leader Nam-hwa-seong rang out, signaling the frontline fighters of the 1st Squad to drop back. While it hardly compared to a proper meditation session, dropping their specialized movement techniques and jogging at a relaxed pace near the rear offered them a minor chance to stabilize their internal reserves.

“…Jin-so-un, fall behind and rest!”

Nam-hwa-seong called out, his tone laced with genuine anxiety. Naturally, the prospect of taking a breather was appealing. Even with my constant regulation of breath, the sheer amount of energy required to pierce through the blockade had left me significantly drained. Even so…

“A subordinate doesn’t dictate actions to the Commander, you arrogant prick.”

My primary concern remained navigating our course.

“…We have scouts available for that. Take a moment to recover.”

Yet, we were also dealing with the presence of those wretched Demonic Cult members lurking within these woods. Tracking the shifts in the spiritual veins was manageable enough, but someone needed to be prepared for sudden ambushes from hidden cultists. The practitioners from the Nam-gwon-mun simply lacked the refined sensory acuity required for advanced energy detection. Because of that vulnerability, I could not abandon my post at the front.

“I can manage. Keep your mind on your own duties.”

“Damn it, if you pass out from exhaustion, don’t expect any help from me. I will leave your body where it drops, mark my words.”

“Is that any way to speak to your superior officer?”

“If you intend to write me up for insubordination, you had better stay alive to do it.”

An amusing individual, to say the least. His method of offering encouragement was certainly unconventional. As Il-gak and the rest of the 1st Squad moved to the rear, the fresh warriors of the 2nd Squad took up positions flanking me.

“Anyone who still has stamina left, move to the front line! We need to push through the next array!”

“Commander-Nim, are you holding up? You look completely battered.”

“You should drop back a little. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard from the very start…”

My ragged appearance was hardly surprising, given that I was thoroughly drenched in the dark blood of the Demonic Cult zealots and the viscera of the slain monsters.

“I can still keep going. Don’t fret.”

“Stubborn fool…”

The nerve of this guy, using such disrespectful phrasing with his Commander. Right as I was debating whether to issue a reprimand on the spot, he retrieved a compact wooden container from within his garments.

“You’ve taken a gash on your shoulder. This ointment won’t mend it instantly, but smear it on for the time being. If rot sets into the flesh, you risk losing the entire limb down the road.”

True to his observation, a deep laceration ran across my shoulder. I hadn’t even noticed when I received it. Reaching out, I accepted the container.

“My thanks. I will put it to good use.”

“…After all, a Commander missing an arm is of no use at the head of a vanguard.”

Muttering those words, he shifted his pace to run slightly ahead of me, screening my side. Why must these individuals from the Orthodox Society always mask their concern with such gruffness?

‘Focus on the task at hand!’

This was no moment for idle distractions. Tightening my grip on the hilt, I flooded the metal with internal force and lashed out. Shattering hidden arrays and cleaving through mutated beasts, I pressed onward relentlessly.

*Slam! Crash! Thud! Bang!*

The 1st and 2nd Squads alternated the burden of clearing the path ahead, never pausing for even a single breath to restore their dwindling physical reserves. After a prolonged period of continuous sprinting, a repulsive sensation flared in my sensory perception, causing me to call out warningly.

“An ambush is approaching.”

“…Pant, gasp, pant.”

The countenance of the warrior leading our charge drained of all color. Struggling violently for oxygen, his features twisted in agony as thick veins throbbed visibly against his skin.

‘This condition is…’

Demonic energy corruption. It was a harrowing symptom I had witnessed on numerous occasions during my previous life.

‘For corruption to manifest this rapidly simply due to physical exhaustion…’

Could our adversaries possess even more terrifying power than I had anticipated? As dusk faded, the shadows of the Muk-rim seemed to descend with an unnatural, suffocating density.