Chapter 47
Chapter 47
SKREEE—!
He had not channeled a single wisp of sword energy, so how had that malevolent phantom vanished?
By all accounts, the phantom thralls summoned by Ghost Slave Hundred Demons could never be unmade by anything less potent than genuine sword energy.
Yet a solitary lunge had dissolved one completely.
Could it simply be that his cultivation was far lower a quarter-century in the past? No, that explanation held no water.
Severing a bodiless specter from this plane had nothing to do with martial realms or physical strength.
Which meant there could be only one genuine reason.
Right then—
SKREEE!
SKREEE!
A chorus of shrill, demonic shrieks shattered the air, immediately followed by a hollow, grating tone that grated against the ears.
“Step out, whoever dared destroy my thrall.”
The words were spoken scarcely above a whisper, yet the sinister cadence rolled across every corner of the compound.
Gu Ak caught the sound just as clearly.
“Bloody hell.”
— Little Brother, stay under cover and figure out a scheme. I will draw his attention.
Well now. Exhibiting such selflessness in a dire crisis? It was almost touching.
Yanghwi had already intended to assess the situation, subdue Ghost Slave Hundred Demons, and extract whatever knowledge the fiend possessed.
Still, being dragged into the open so abruptly had not been in the blueprint.
Pondering the board for a breath, he settled on his move.
— Brother Gu. We step out together.
— What? Why choose such a reckless path?
— I have a tactic. Just follow behind me.
With relaxed confidence, Yanghwi marched straight into the open.
The swirling specters converged upon their path, drawing an unbroken circle around the two.
Reaching the open courtyard an instant later, Yanghwi felt his brow knot in distaste.
The fiend had already reaped a grim harvest.
Between the guild’s retainers and the unaffiliated wanderers who had rushed in, roughly a third lay slaughtered across the flagstones.
The survivors fared little better, completely crippled and sprawled across the dirt.
Spreading the rumor only three days prior meant that not a single master of the apex realm had arrived in time to intervene.
Just as the realization settled in his thoughts—
“Which of you vermin was it? Who extinguished my shade?”
The raspy utterance grated, heavy with foul phlegm.
Gu Ak took a heavy step forward.
“Are your eyes decorative? It was me, obviously.”
Ghost Slave Hundred Demons inclined his head with glacial calm.
It defied reason to imagine a mere youth wiping a demonic entity from existence.
“Is that the truth. Demonstrate it once more.”
With a casual flick of Ghost Slave Hundred Demons’ claw-like finger, a hovering phantom plunged straight at Gu Ak.
SKREEE!
“Ugh!”
Gu Ak chopped down with one of his twin hatchets, bisecting the apparition cleanly.
Yet the severed vapor effortlessly fused back together without suffering the slightest harm.
“A lie. You have yet to break into the apex realm. You played me for a fool.”
“……”
Tracking their back-and-forth, Yanghwi quietly surveyed the battlefield.
There were approximately thirty phantom entities in total.
Twenty-five years prior to their clash in his former incarnation, the necromancer’s martial realm was considerably suppressed, drastically restricting the volume of spirits he could maintain.
Directing a portion of his intent to keep the surviving martial artists paralyzed meant he could spare no more than ten to assault a single target simultaneously.
Crucially, not a solitary dae-gwi (大鬼) walked among the crowd.
Those four horrifying monstrosities—birthed by drowning the souls of grandmasters in unholy malice and demonic qi—had yet to be forged.
Without those abominations blocking the path…
This fight was entirely within his grasp.
— Brother Gu. We sprint forward on three. I shall erase every apparition in the way, so your sole job is to pin the bastard down.
— H-How? Can we actually pull that off?
— We can. One, two, three!
Yanghwi surged ahead, instantly executing Vessel Thousand Steps.
Anticipating an assault, Ghost Slave Hundred Demons snapped his finger without the slightest delay.
SKREEE!
The specters lunged in a shrieking swarm, dragging plumes of pitch-black corruption in their wake.
Yet—
The heartbeat Yanghwi’s sword arced through the air, saturated with brilliant true qi, the foremost specter vanished into thin air.
SKREEE—!
It was true. The immortal qi was what burned them out of existence.
That extraordinary immortal qi had sparked to life upon his rebirth, multiplying exponentially after he digested that wondrous elixir.
He had originally dubbed the energy immortal qi simply due to its peerless purity and transcendent grace, completely unaware of this inherent virtue.
It was undeniably endowed with the sacred attribute of purging fiends and extinguishing wickedness.
Wait, could this truly be genuine immortal qi in the most literal sense?
Either way, it turned a grueling trial into child’s play.
“It was you!”
Ghost Slave Hundred Demons gaped in disbelief as Yanghwi closed the gap between them in a flash.
“Brother Gu!”
“Right behind you!”
Deploying his swift lightfoot technique, Gu Ak glued himself directly to Yanghwi’s heels.
Yanghwi slashed out once more.
Hundred and Eight Heaven-Splitting Swords (蓋天百八劍), Fifth Form.
Hawk Feathers Scattering, Fifth Variation.
Hawk Feathers Scattering erupted into a dazzling cascade of sword light, striking out in all directions and tearing clean through nine approaching shades.
SKREEE—!
SKREEE—!
SKREEE—!
Spewing noxious, rancid miasma, the shades dissolved into nothingness in the blink of an eye.
“Impossible! How can this be?!”
Utterly shaken, Ghost Slave Hundred Demons froze, unable to mount a defense.
It was hardly surprising.
Outside of clashes against apex realm titans, he had never once watched his spirits disintegrate.
Now, the dreadful entities he had refined through years of agony were being wiped out like dry grass before a wildfire.
“Brother Gu! Strike!”
Yanghwi drove a piercing thrust through the final looming specter, guided by the precision of Arrow Feathers Pierce Rock.
SKREEE!
A cloud of inky smoke billowed as the entity unraveled.
Bursting straight through the vanishing soot, Gu Ak buried the edge of his axe deep into Ghost Slave Hundred Demons’ shoulder.
“AAARGH!”
Before the shriek could even echo across the courtyard, Yanghwi swung his blade in two blinding flashes, severing both of the summoner’s hands at the wrists.
“Aaargh, GAAAH! My hands! MY HANDS!”
“Quiet down, dog.”
Ghost Slave Hundred Demons relied entirely upon manual mudras to steer his phantom horde.
With both hands lying in the dirt, he was thoroughly castrated of his threat.
Just the two of them had completely subdued the monster destined to butcher legions of martial artists and terrorize the realm decades later.
Immortal qi… I still cannot fathom its true origin, but…
He could reflect upon the mystery later.
Subduing Ghost Slave Hundred Demons took precedence right now.
“Listen up, fiend. Command every last one of those thralls to stand before me.”
“Hmph, you think you can order m—AAAGH!”
Gu Ak shoved his second axe directly into the opposite shoulder, cutting off the defiance with an ear-splitting howl.
“Obey him, or I turn you into ground pork.”
“……”
The evil spirits that had been suppressing the martial artists drifted forward.
Yanghwi coated his steel in true qi and cleanly swept every last lingering monstrosity into oblivion.
SKREEE!
SKREEE!
SKREEE!
With their demise, Ghost Slave Hundred Demons was stripped of every trick in his repertoire.
His legendary notoriety rested entirely on occult hexes; his foundation in martial technique was practically nonexistent.
“Brother Gu, wonderful execution.”
“Hah, that was an immaculate combination.”
— Tell me, Little Brother. How were you capable of annihilating those apparitions?
Finding it troublesome to lecture on the concept of immortal qi, Yanghwi offered an evasive remark.
— Even I cannot say for certain. I suspect it might be a lingering side effect of the strange elixir I consumed not long ago.
— Truly? That would make sense.
Seeing Gu Ak accept the reasoning, Yanghwi moved among the fallen martial artists, tapping shut their pressure points.
Most were knocked cold, their minds poisoned by the malicious aura of the phantoms, so the task required minimal exertion.
Doing this ensured none of the onlookers would interfere or kick up trouble before they departed.
Next, his eyes scanned the wreckage to locate a certain figure.
A rotund, thick-faced man of mature years, practically oozing avarice.
Draped in gaudy garments of radiant silk, the individual could be none other than the Master of the Namgeum Merchant Guild.
“Are you the Master of the Namgeum Merchant Guild?”
“I… indeed, that is this humble merchant. I owe you my life, young champion!”
Hearing his effusive praise felt rather ironic, given that the disaster currently laying waste to his guild was provoked entirely by Yanghwi’s machinations.
Then again, the pig had accumulated his fortune by bleeding the populace dry, so there was no reason to harbor guilt.
“I have questions for this demon. Provide me with a secluded, quiet chamber.”
“At—at once, of course!”
Conducting the questioning in private was far wiser.
He wanted to uncover why this wretch was present and what the Blood Cult was orchestrating. Gu Ak would only become suspicious about how Yanghwi possessed knowledge of such clandestine affairs.
“Brother Gu, some of these fighters might regain consciousness, so maintain an eye on the courtyard.”
“And the interrogation?”
“I shall handle it alone.”
“Could that be perilous?”
“You watched me turn his spirits to dust. He is completely harmless now.”
Snatching Ghost Slave Hundred Demons by the scruff of his neck, Yanghwi dragged the broken fiend toward the deepest pavilion of the estate and dumped him unceremoniously onto the wooden floorboards.
Then he came straight to the crux of the matter.
“Why is a wretch who belongs in a Blood Cult sanctuary skulking around these lands?”
“W-What…!”
Gasping through the agony, Ghost Slave Hundred Demons’ eyes bulged so hard they threatened to pop out.
“H-How could you know of that…?”
“The right to interrogate belongs solely to the conqueror. Keep your trap shut and answer what you are asked. Why are you out here?”
“……”
Ghost Slave Hundred Demons locked his jaw. Why did every one of these lunatics insist on choosing the excruciating route?
Thrust! Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!
Yanghwi jabbed deep into the captive’s abdomen, systematically severing the prime meridians running through all four limbs.
“Khhk…!”
“Exquisite, isn’t it? Spill the truth, and I will grant you a merciful departure. What do you say?”
“……”
Still, the prisoner remained stubbornly mute. He possessed considerably more grit than the cutthroats of Nameless Killing Valley, at least.
Twisting joints or snapping bones would likely produce little effect against a creature like this.
A situation like this practically screamed for a specialist from the Tang Clan.
Among their extensive cabinet of venomous arts, the Tang Clan brewed distinct concoctions crafted expressly to elevate fleshly torment for questioning.
Throughout the horrors of the Evil Cult Chaos in his past existence, only the torment poisons of the Tang Clan had managed to pry open the jaws of those fanatical madmen.
Wait.
Ghost Slave Hundred Demons. An occult necromancer who bent demonic spirits to his bidding through esoteric hexes.
Unlike traditional martial pathways, sorcerous arts anchored themselves within the upper dantian.
The Baihui, the prime convergence point for the resonance of the heavens, and the Yintang, the dwelling place of spiritual perception.
The vile, malevolent hum of corrupt intent swarming those two specific acupuncture points was completely unmistakable, blanketing his skull in dark mist.
Could this perhaps work?
Extending his index and middle fingers, Yanghwi pressed them directly against the space between Ghost Slave Hundred Demons’ eyebrows.
For the first time since the torment commenced, the tight-lipped wretch gasped in horror.
“You! What madness are you attempting!”
“You are about to experience it!”
Yanghwi ignited the immortal core nestled deep in his dantian.
While he could not summon the entirety of the immortal qi absorbed from that heaven-defying elixir, the concentration woven into his true qi was vastly superior to ordinary circulation.
“AAAARGH! AAAAARGH!”
A harrowing wail shattered the stillness of the chamber. Harmonious Heaven qi, thoroughly saturated with pure immortal force, bored straight into the prisoner’s upper dantian, violently flaying the dark arts’ corrupting presence.
“Hurts, doesn’t it? Vow to speak plainly, and the pain stops.”
“AAARGH! GHH, GAH, KUHH!”
“You truly have a stubborn backbone, don’t you?”
Carelessly invading the Yintang and Baihui could effortlessly reduce a person’s brain to mush, leaving them a babbling simpleton.
Yanghwi did not care an iota, driving the Harmonious Heaven qi deeper into the spiritual nexus.
Whether the necromancer lost his sanity held zero consequence to him.
If this gambit failed, there was no alternative way to pry his jaw apart anyway.
“Mercy! STOOOOP! I will confess!”
“Hoh.”
The second Yanghwi pulled his fingertips back, Ghost Slave Hundred Demons heaved, gulping down air like a drowning man.
“Let us try this once more. Why is a rat from that wretched lair wandering about the exterior world?”
“……A mandate was issued.”
The bastard was still testing his patience.
“From this sentence forward, elaborate on every single detail.”
“P-Please! I will speak, I will—AAAARGH!”
After bathing the necromancer’s mental sea in another scorching surge of immortal qi, Yanghwi finally lifted his fingers away.
“Now then. Shall we converse?”
“The Cult Leader issued a decree. Our directive was to scout or forge external factions to serve as our vanguard in preparation for the forthcoming cleansing.”
So the vermin had buried their roots deep into the mortal realm this early on.
It was hardly baffling why the righteous alliance had suffered such inexplicable, humiliating defeats throughout the Evil Cult Chaos.
“How many agents were dispatched?”
“Dozens, myself among their ranks.”
“Which factions have you successfully bribed or founded?”
“None on my end. We operate strictly through severed links for absolute secrecy, leaving me completely ignorant of what my brethren have achieved.”
He possessed not a scrap of actionable intelligence.
At this rate, spending effort interrogating the filth was proving to be an utter waste of breath.
“What is the current military might of the Blood Cult? What schemes is your Cult Leader pursuing?”
“I cannot say!”
“Ah, you clearly require another session.”
“I—I swear by the heavens, I do not know! Prior to leaving our sanctuary, every agent was subjected to the Great Method and had their memories suppressed! Our minds only unlock upon crossing back over the threshold of our domain!”
This was precisely why heretical maniacs, particularly those within the Blood Cult, were so infuriating to deal with.
Armed with foul, incomprehensible occult traditions, they could enforce secrets using bizarre methods beyond ordinary imagination.
Prying further was an exercise in futility.
Even so, Yanghwi resolved to drop one final inquiry.
In many respects, the most critical question in the world.
“What do you know regarding the Divine Cult (神敎)?”
The Divine Cult. Known across history by its true title, the Heaven-Defying Divine Cult (逆天神敎).
Yanghwi’s mind unbiddenly drifted back to a dark fragment of memory from his previous life.
If I can just pinpoint their trail ahead of time… I will wipe them out without leaving a trace.
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