Chapter 1268: Worry About The Ten Thousand People Clan Bastards! (3)

“Taoist Chung Myungggggg!”

A tearing scream erupted from behind. The voice reached Chung Myung’s ears clearly.

But he didn’t particularly care.

‘What a fuss.’

Glancing back, he saw the ship leaving the shore pick up speed and moving away from the island. The crewmen rowed with all their might and would soon secure a safe distance, but they needed a little more time than was required.

Chung Myung stared at the Ten Thousand People Clan swordsmen surging toward him like a tidal wave. Even he felt his hair rise watching nearly a thousand of them flash their eyes and pant as they charged.

If the Ten Thousand People Clan bastards fell on those retreating like this, the damage would undoubtedly grow.

‘So I have to buy time, huh?’

It was absurd. These weren’t just anyone but the Ten Thousand People Clan’s swordsmen. No matter how skilled Chung Myung was, facing thousands of them alone was impossible.

“Kraaaah!”

Watching the Ten Thousand People swordsmen charge like half-mad, Chung Myung smiled.

“It’s been a while...”

The corners of his mouth lifted and his white teeth bared fiercely.

“I like how simple it is!”

No need to think.

What those damned rookies were seeing, what they were experiencing, whether they truly understood it, how the hellish battlefield of the murim world was twisting even now—none of that needed thought.

The complex thoughts that had boiled in Chung Myung’s head evaporated, replaced by raw senses.

The metallic stench of blood that numbed the nose, deafening shouts, a vicious killing intent that prickled the skin. And the foes before him—enemy, enemy, only enemies.

It was a sight all too familiar to Chung Myung.

Tatat!

The feeling of his toes digging into sand surged through his body and exploded from the crown of his head.

Pat! Paaat! Paaaat!

With each step his stride lengthened and his speed increased. Holding his sword reverse-grip and bending low, Chung Myung became a single streak of steel, a Lightning, cutting into the tidal wave of Ten Thousand People swordsmen.

The Ten Thousand People swordsmen widened their eyes.

’ Mount Hua’s Sword Saint!’

An absolute master none would dare face alone. But Mount Hua’s Sword Saint stood alone now, so there was no reason to be afraid.

“Dieeeee!”

They shouted a thunderous shout to straighten their instinctively hunching shoulders and, with every ounce of strength, brought their swords down. Blades filled with fierce hatred and raw malice descended in a straight line toward Mount Hua’s Sword Saint’s small frame.

They struck down in a flurry.

Kwaaaang!

These strikes ignored any harmony of inner force and technique; only a single murderous intent remained, and when they hit the beach they produced a massive explosion.

Sand crumbled into dust and a white cloud billowed up.

‘Where is he?!’

One of the Ten Thousand People swordsmen grimaced as his vision blurred for a moment. Their opponent was Mount Hua’s Sword Saint.

Losing sight of him even for a heartbeat could have irreversible consequences.

Sand grit cut into their eyes, but the swordsmen did not blink.

Instead they widened their eyes and drew up their qi sense as much as they could.

‘Where...!’

Their qi-sense instantly locked onto Chung Myung’s movement and position. But the expression on the swordsman’s face was not relief or joy—it was horror.

‘Behind? Huh, when did he...’

A sharp sting!

At that moment a prickling pain spread through his neck. Fear washed over him. Half-instinctively reaching to clutch his throat, a grotesque sight unfolded before his eyes.

Thin red lines, as if drawn by a fine pen, appeared across the throats of the comrades in front—and then dark red blood erupted like fountains.

The stinging like a paper-cut warmed and then turned into a searing heat, as if scalded.

The heat spread from his throat to his shoulders. Only then did the Ten Thousand People Clan’s warriors realize what the warmth was.

He was dumbfounded. The warrior felt like laughing.

‘Blood... it’s hotter than I thought...’

But before he could finish that laugh, he collapsed.

Chwaaah!

Crimson blood sprayed like fountains from the throats of a dozen men.

Those further back who had escaped the worse stared in shock. The result was clear to the eye, but they hadn’t seen the process properly.

To them it only looked like Chung Myung had suddenly vanished and then reappeared right next to them, and those who had charged ahead were suddenly spewing blood and collapsing.

It was a sight that shattered conventional understanding.

People naturally revere those who elevate what they know to a higher plane. But when confronted with actions beyond comprehension, they feel terror.

And a greater dread rushed over them, Mount Hua’s Sword Saint had now come right to their noses.

“Ugh, uaa!”

If the first wave had infused their blades with hostility, these blades carried only bewilderment and fear.

Chung Myung never missed that wavering and crack.

Paaaah!

His extended sword sliced the hand gripping a blade clean off at the wrist. The upward-thrust sword couldn’t be redirected into a downward strike and spun up like a top.

Shrrk!

Chung Myung’s sword cut the throat of a man who hadn’t even fully realized his wrist was severed.

Paaaah!

Again blood surged. All those at the rear could see was blood, blood, nothing but blood.

“Y-you bastard... urk!”

Chung Myung’s sword drove into the mouth that had tried to shout. It was so fast it seemed to tear through space and appear there.

“Gkrrk.......”

Before the severed spine’s soul could fully leave the body, the blade that had cut through the neck shot on like a starving snake toward its next prey.

Sssaaat!

With a sound like a sharp pick raking clear ice, Chung Myung’s sword sliced the air. The bodies of the Ten Thousand People Clan’s warriors quickly followed.

Shrrk! Shrrk! Shrrk! Shrrk!

“Aaaaaaah!”

“Aaaaargh!”

The razor edge sliced flesh and severed arteries, the sounds mixing with agonized screams. Blood sprayed in every direction.

Paaaah!

Where Chung Myung passed, red blossoms seemed to bloom like mist. The blood that had arced toward the sky fell back onto the white sand with soft plops.

Blue sea and white beach, a black wave covering the sand, and scattered dots of spreading red blood.

Viewed from above, the scene might look like a master stroke on a canvas, a painting a hermit god could have painted in one sweep.

But to those within that picture, it was no beauty.

“Hic, hiik...”

Those who had seemed ready to trample everything before them faltered.

All they could clearly see was Chung Myung approaching, drenched in red.

Sight is the most direct and intense of the senses.

Those who had been excited and agitated by the heat of comrades’ blood, those reassured by their overwhelming numbers—

Even those who had indulged in the vain fantasy that they might be the one to behead Mount Hua’s giant—before this carnage, their blood chilled.

Gguhguk.

The sword ghost that had sent countless souls rose, approaching drenched in blood. The blade scraped the reddened sand, making a hair-raising sound.

“Uh...”

At some point the forward movement of those running at the front had stopped.

Clack.

Drops of blood fell from the ends of Chung Myung’s soaked hair.

He looked like a demon risen from hell. When the wind-of-the-northern-sea gaze emerged from the ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) hair hanging over his face, forbidden emotions screamed inside the Ten Thousand People swordsmen’s chests.

“Ah...”

Thud.

You could hear someone’s back collide with someone’s shoulder. A tiny sound, but

it carried enormous meaning on the battlefield.

“S-s-stop...”

Just as someone tried to speak, Chung Myung’s sword painted dozens of afterimages and enveloped those who had frozen.

Paaaah!

In an instant it was like a dam broke; those swept by the blade were hurled and scattered.

“H-hiik!”

The only one who avoided the slash within that radius leaped backward with a deathly pale face, or at least tried to.

Kwaak!

But Chung Myung was faster. Before the man could even straighten his bent knees, Chung Myung’s blade had reached right before his throat. No matter how hard he swung, getting impaled would be quicker.

But the man proved in that instant why he was a Ten Thousand People Clan’s warrior. The moment the sword pierced his windpipe, he grabbed the sword with both hands and stopped it.

“Gk, gkrrk...”

That desperate improvisation saved the man’s life. Just before his throat was fully pierced, he managed to bring the sword to a halt.

“Gk...”

His eyes bloodshot, he desperately shoved the Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword away.

But at that moment Chung Myung’s mouth twitched into a smile.

Prrrkkkk!

With the grinding sound of flesh and metal rubbing, Chung Myung’s sword began to inch forward.

Kakak!

A hand brimming with internal qi was split like paper as the sword sank into bone.

Kagak! Kagak!

Grinding even bone, the sword drove deeper into the man’s neck.

“Gk... grrk...”

Crimson blood gushed from the man’s mouth like a waterfall. Even so, his hands clung desperately to the sword.

It was an almost unbelievable scene of terror. Even amid it all, Chung Myung’s eyes remained chillingly cold, without a trace of excitement.

“Grrrk...”

The man’s body convulsed and trembled. Chung Myung’s sword was slow but certain, piercing through his neck.

“Grrk...”

He had strained so much that the veins in the man’s eyes burst, leaving no white visible, only red.

The spurting blood mixed with streaming tears and smeared his face.

“S-s-save me...”

His speech broke into incomprehensible babble, froth forming at his lips.

But Chung Myung understood perfectly. Looking into the desperate eyes of the Ten Thousand People swordsman, he bared his teeth and smiled.

“It’s not even funny.”

Paaaah!

At that moment Chung Myung’s sword retracted with terrifying speed. Simultaneously, the man’s hands, which had clung desperately to the Dark Fragrant Plum Blossom Sword, were cut clean off and flew into the air.

“N-no...”

Paaaaah!

What the man saw next was Chung Myung’s sword plummeting toward his head at monstrous speed.

Kwaaang!

A thunderous boom erupted as blade met skull. It wasn’t a cut; it was a crushing blow.

The man’s head burst on the blade, fragments of skull exploding outward like fireworks.

Thud.

The headless body collapsed like a rotten bundle of straw.

A momentary silence fell. An inexplicable chill cooled everyone’s hearts.

Thud-thud.

Chung Myung casually let his sword droop and took another step.

“Ugh...”

The sight of a body smeared in blood was not frightening.

“Uuh...”

The blood-greased blade, the blood dripping from it, even the hot metallic scent rising from the blood-soaked body—none of it scared him.

“Uu, uuuu...”

But those eyes were the problem. Even after cutting down so many, those cold, unwavering eyes were unbearable.

“Ugh... u, uaaaaaaa!”

“Aaaaaaaaaah!”

The moment someone screamed, several at the front turned and, gripped by terror, began screaming and fleeing.

“W-what are you doing! Hold your ground...!”

“Get out! Move, you bastard! Uaaaaa!”

Those who had lost reason to fear swung blades at those trying to stop them. Those fleeing and those blocking tangled chaotically, an abyssal scene unfolded.

They were no longer Ten Thousand People swordsmen or members of the Evil Sect. They were merely weak beasts thrashing to flee from a bloodthirsty predator.

A short laugh escaped Chung Myung at the sight.

“Less impressive than I thought...”

Driving his foot into the sand, he stabbed sword qi into the backs of those trying to flee.

“You’re not even worth it, huh?”

Once again Chung Myung’s whole body was drenched in blood. Even his white hair band was stained red.