Chapter 152: Myungwang’s Manifestation. -02
Even amid the explosion, Namgung Ho felt the dozens of Whip Shadows surging toward him without losing the slightest bit of power.
He sensed the razor-sharpened force bearing down on him with the momentum to tear his entire body apart.
But he could not swing his sword.
His original plan had been to push away Ghost Sword’s Sword Force and then immediately target Illusion Whip.
However, as if he had known his intention all along, Ghost Sword had seized Namgung Ho’s blade and refused to let go. And so Namgung Ho was forced to decide.
Should he release the Changcheon Sword and block Illusion Whip’s attack?
Or should he take it head-on with his entire body as it was?
“Chaap!”
In that fleeting instant, Namgung Ho made his decision.
No, there had been no value in deliberating.
For a swordsman to release his sword in the midst of battle was unthinkable.
Thus Namgung Ho chose his pride and drove his Protective Energy to its utmost limit.
Tatatatang!
The moment the milky-white Protective Energy wrapped around his entire body, the Whip Force unleashed by Illusion Whip poured down all at once.
It hammered down with terrifying momentum, causing the Protective Energy to tremble violently.
He had already expended no small amount of Inner Energy while dealing with Ghost Sword, and with Ghost Sword still pressing blades against him and refusing to release him, Namgung Ho had no choice but to endure the blows.
Crack!
At last, fractures spread across Namgung Ho’s Protective Energy.
Being beaten down unilaterally, his Protective Energy could no longer withstand it.
Moreover, though slightly inferior to Namgung Ho, Illusion Whip was also a powerhouse who ruled the Great Desert.
A figure who did not fall behind Ghost Sword in the slightest—such was Illusion Whip. And so Namgung Ho gritted his teeth and swung his left hand.
“Hmph!”
But this too had been within Ghost Sword’s expectations.
This was about the extent of the counterattack Namgung Ho could muster at present. Maintaining his sword-locking technique, Ghost Sword kept hold of the Changcheon Sword and simultaneously thrust out his left palm to block the Heavenly Thunder Palm.
Pupupupung!
Meanwhile, Illusion Whip’s Relentless Wave Offensive grew even fiercer.
As though determined not to let this opportunity slip by, he struck mercilessly, and as a result, Namgung Ho’s entire body, like Ghost Sword’s before him, gradually became drenched in blood.
Grrrk!
Even so, Namgung Ho did not release his sword.
To him, a swordsman let go of his blade only in the moment of death.
Of course, he did not stubbornly endure without thought.
He tried somehow to shake off Ghost Sword’s blade, but vexingly, Ghost Sword clung to him like a leech to the very end.
“Yes, die like that!”
Watching Namgung Ho gradually become a wreck, Ghost Sword cackled in delight.
Though he had lost in their one-on-one duel, what mattered was survival.
Even if one won the contest, it was meaningless if one died. And so Ghost Sword sneered, his face brimming with elation.
At that moment, however, a subtle streak of force brushed past Ghost Sword’s wrist.
Slice.
The wrist gripping the sword hilt suddenly split open, and blood spurted out.
At the same time, excruciating pain surged from the severed wrist.
“Aaaargh!”
In an instant, Ghost Sword clutched the severed portion with his left hand.
But his scream did not last long.
Behind him, a dark figure appeared like a ghost, seized the back of his neck, and snapped it in one motion.
“Ghost Sword!”
Seeing Ghost Sword’s neck bent at a right angle, Illusion Whip, who had been pressing Namgung Ho, cried out in shock.
But it was already too late.
With his neck broken, even a divine immortal could not have saved Ghost Sword.
“Sang Il-gi!”
“We should deal with Illusion Whip first.”
Recognizing that the one who had snapped Ghost Sword’s neck was Sang Il-gi, Namgung Ho called out, his face bright with unmistakable relief.
But unlike Namgung Ho, Sang Il-gi remained expressionless as he threw out his fist.
It was the Myungwang Fist, his life-bound ultimate technique and the secret supreme art of Bangcheon Sect.
Bbeoong! Bbeoong!
Each time the dark-hued Fist Force shot forth, Illusion Whip’s Nine-Section Whip undulated.
It could not withstand the fierce blows.
Advancing while alternating his twin fists, Sang Il-gi soon seized the Nine-Section Whip, which had been driven back helplessly.
“Wh-what?!”
At the same time, he pulled.
Rather than approaching, he simply dragged Illusion Whip toward him.
As a result, Illusion Whip was sent flying through the air against his will.
But Illusion Whip did not submit meekly.
Chwarrrrrk!
He knew that the moment he was caught by Sang Il-gi, he would meet the same fate as Ghost Sword. So he turned the current situation to his advantage.
As the distance closed, the Nine-Section Whip offered more varied methods of use.
Thus Illusion Whip manipulated the whip and wrapped it around Sang Il-gi.
Like a serpent coiling, he bound him tightly.
‘Die!’
Having bound Sang Il-gi in an instant, Illusion Whip pulled hard on the Nine-Section Whip.
He intended to constrict his entire body and burst him apart.
Crack! Craaack!
Yet unfortunately for Illusion Whip, his wish did not come true.
When Sang Il-gi roughly spread his arms apart, the tightly coiled Nine-Section Whip stretched like taffy before snapping apart.
Astonishingly, he had broken it with sheer strength.
And Sang Il-gi did not stop there.
Swoooosh!
Fixing his gaze on Illusion Whip, who was still flying toward him, he slowly drew back his right hand.
It was the basic stance of an ordinary straight punch.
But the force contained within that fist was anything but ordinary.
Instinctively sensing it, Illusion Whip hastily crossed his arms and pushed his Protective Energy to its extreme.
Not only that, he unleashed his Movement Technique to its fullest, trying desperately to alter his direction.
Evading was unquestionably better than blocking, so he frantically worked his legs—
—but Sang Il-gi’s fist struck the Protective Energy first.
Bbeoong!
Contrary to the immense force contained within it, Sang Il-gi’s punch appeared simple.
A dark-hued Fist Force flew forward swiftly and precisely.
Yet its power was anything but simple.
It pierced straight through Illusion Whip’s fully reinforced Protective Energy in a single instant—and then penetrated his crossed arms and chest as well.
“Cough!”
With a single strike that pierced through everything, Illusion Whip staggered like a paper doll before collapsing to his knees.
Fresh red blood poured endlessly from his mouth.
Then he looked at Sang Il-gi with an expression of utter disbelief.
He had never even dreamed that a mysterious master of this level would suddenly appear, and Illusion Whip soon wore a resentful expression.
Crunch!
Yet Sang Il-gi gave no response to that look.
He saw no need to converse with an enemy.
Even at this very moment, young heroic spirits of Murim were dying. And so, with Formless Force Energy, he crushed Illusion Whip’s head.
“Thank you for your assistance.”
As the lifeless Illusion Whip collapsed and fell to the side, Namgung Ho, who had been steadying his internal injuries nearby, approached.
His face still carried clear relief.
Yet even though a martial artist of Namgung Ho’s stature offered his thanks, Sang Il-gi’s face remained rigid.
“Namgung Family Head.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“This is a battlefield.”
“…….”
Namgung Ho’s face stiffened.
It was only a short sentence, yet it was enough to grasp the meaning within.
And so Namgung Ho felt ashamed.
Though he was the head of a family, instead of looking after his subordinates, he had been thinking only of himself.
“We shall continue the rest of our conversation after the battle ends.”
“Yes.”
Sang Il-gi said no more.
There was no time, and it seemed Namgung Ho had already understood.
Advice should be given only to the necessary extent—go beyond that, and it became nothing more than nagging and admonishment.
Bbeoong! Bbeoong!
Having said what needed to be said, Sang Il-gi swept mercilessly across the battlefield like a tiger leaping into a pack of wolves.
With an expressionless face, he cut down the warriors of Ironblood Fortress.
And beside him stood Namgung Ho, now bearing a completely different expression from before.
He rebuilt the shattered formation of the Namgung Family and pressed the enemy back.
Swish.
At that sight, Sang Il-gi turned his head.
He was not the only one who had joined the battlefield.
Yet there was not the slightest trace of worry on his face.
The person he was looking for now was not someone who required concern.
“Stop!”
“The rampage of an old monster ends here!”
Several figures of considerable rank within Ironblood Fortress charged at him, but their fate was no different from Illusion Whip’s.
Though they rushed forward boldly, none could withstand even a single punch from Sang Il-gi.
Some managed to block one strike, but none endured a second or third.
Kuaaaang!
And when Namgung Ho began to reveal his full strength in earnest, the surrounding area was reduced to devastation in an instant.
With Ghost Sword and Illusion Whip gone, no one could handle the two of them.
But elsewhere, the situation was different.
‘First, I need to restore the balance.’
Sang Il-gi’s gaze sank heavily.
The situation here had improved with his entry into the fray, but not elsewhere.
Viewed as a whole, only this area had improved. And so he decided that balance had to be restored first.
“Who are you? I’ve never heard that a master of your level existed in the Central Plains.”
“What is known is not everything.”
“Hah. True enough. They say the Central Plains has reclusive masters as numerous as grains of sand. But do you know? That saying applies to the Great Desert as well.”
The warriors of Ironblood Fortress parted to the left and right.
Those who had been charging like moths only moments ago calmed at the appearance of a single man and opened a path.
“That may be so. The world is vast.”
“Heh heh. So just because you killed Illusion Whip and Ghost Sword, I’m not to your liking?”
The desert warriors, brimming with madness, all showed respect at once.
Toward the newly arrived figure.
But Sang Il-gi’s reaction was indifferent.
In the Great Desert, the Great War Gods might hold exalted status—but not in the Central Plains.
“It’s not that.”
“Well, fine. I came here because I rather like your strength. So don’t disappoint me. I’m not like Illusion Whip or Ghost Sword.”
“I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”
Sang Il-gi replied briefly and surveyed his surroundings.
Namgung Ho’s charge, which had been slaughtering Ironblood Fortress’s forces with terrifying momentum, had now come to a halt.
Just as before, another Great War God had appeared.
And like the one before him, the figure blocking Namgung Ho was a step above Illusion Whip or Ghost Sword.
‘A true Ten Great Masters Under Heaven level.’
As he returned his gaze forward, Sang Il-gi’s brow twitched faintly.
Just as not all of the Murim Ten Kings were of equal strength, neither were the Great War Gods.
It was clear that this opponent was on a different level from Illusion Whip and Ghost Sword. And so Sang Il-gi slowly clenched his fist.
He had expended considerable Inner Energy facing the two earlier—but the middle-aged man before him was no different. Sang Il-gi’s eyes gleamed as he kicked off the ground.
“Striking first to win. A good saying. But I have no intention of giving up the initiative either.”
The middle-aged man spoke with feigned ease.
Yet unlike his tone, his body moved with lightning speed.
Unleashing Body-Drawn Shadow, he charged at Sang Il-gi.
Jjeeeong!
Their fists collided in midair, releasing a terrifying roar.
At the same time, a monstrous shockwave swept in all directions.
Nearby, Namgung Ho was likewise locked in a fierce clash of equals with his new opponent.
‘Damn it!’
Unlike the boldness he had shown at first, Peng Mancheol’s face was now badly twisted.
He could manage one opponent—but when two attacked in tandem, even he was helpless.
Such was the overwhelming might of two Great War Gods.
Even he, known as the Blade King, was being pushed back without recourse.
‘To think these so-called Great War Gods are this strong.’
Peng Mancheol ground his teeth and moved his legs swiftly.
It was to evade the Wolf Fang Mace and the Horse-Cleaving Saber that came crashing down like lightning.
Both were so massive and heavy they could scarcely be called anything less than heavy weapons, yet the Great War Gods wielded them as though they were mere wooden clubs.
In particular, Blood Soul Blade, who wielded the Horse-Cleaving Saber, charged relentlessly as though intent on avenging the disadvantage he had suffered in their earlier one-on-one battle.
Slice!
As a result, Peng Mancheol’s martial robe had been reduced to rags.
Moreover, shallow wounds were gradually increasing across his body.
None were fatal—but the problem was the bleeding.
“You seem to be having a hard time.”
“Huh?”