Chapter 146

Chapter 146

Clang-!

The ringing of a bell incessantly pounded against his head. Even so, he had already grown accustomed to the sensation of his skull reverberating.

Just as he ignored the bell and tried to swing his sword—

“Heh heh heh.”

Once again, the old woman’s laughter echoed out.

“So it wasn’t only complete idiots after all. Then we shall act accordingly.”

Clang-!

The bell rang once more. In response to the sound, as if answering a summons, Demonic Practitioners shrouded in ominous Demonic Energy appeared before Kang Hosan like illusions.

It wasn’t only Kang Hosan. Before Kang Chowon, Horyeung, and even Black Shadow, Demonic Practitioners manifested as well.

Each of them now had to face three Demonic Practitioners. Moreover, these were no ordinary experts—every one of them stood in the Transformation Realm. There was no conceivable way to handle such opponents alone.

And so Kang Hosan laughed. As if he found it amusing. As if he were truly delighted.

Soon ceasing his laughter, Kang Hosan fixed the Demonic Practitioners with a chilling gaze and said,

“War isn’t fought alone, you idiots.”

At some point, Horyeung, Kang Chowon, and Black Shadow had taken their places beside him. Stroking the beard he had recently begun growing, Horyeung spoke,

“Now the four of us must face twelve. This will be a difficult fight.”

“More difficult than Young Master?”

“…It may be easier than I thought.”

It had been roughly nine hundred days since Youngho had declared he would show them training worse than hell.

Their bodies were carved with countless scars earned in that training, and they had experienced deaths so horrific that everything they had endured before seemed trivial by comparison.

They had grown incomparably stronger than in the past. If there was one regret…

Kang Hosan and Horyeung glanced at Kang Chowon’s hands. The slender, jade-like fingers were gone; in their place were the coarse, callused hands unique to a Martial Artist, gripping a sword firmly.

‘Now she won’t be able to get married!’

Swallowing their tears inwardly, the two released a subdued Killing Intent toward the charging Demonic Practitioners.

Kang-!

At the sudden ambush, Youngho gripped his sword in reverse and blocked at his flank. Twisting his senses within that fleeting instant, he flashed a grin at the Demonic Practitioner who had slipped in.

“So it’s finally starting?”

Youngho sneered as he took in the dozens of Demonic Practitioners who had appeared before him.

“Wasn’t it a bit shameless to try and drain my stamina with nothing but Jiangshi?”

Continuing to push against Youngho’s sword with brute force, the Demonic Practitioner’s blade was abruptly kicked aside by Youngho.

Perhaps it was the first time he had been overpowered by someone stronger than himself—the Demonic Practitioner’s eyes widened as he hastily widened the distance between them.

“They’re all Transformation Realm experts.”

Dozens of Transformation Realm masters… With such a force, even Shaolin would not escape annihilation.

But Youngho knew. Among these Transformation Realm experts, there was not a single Absolute-Level Master. Clearly, they were deployed merely to exhaust his stamina.

Nothing more, nothing less. And rather than being displeased, Youngho’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“If you want to tire me out, at least bring this much.”

The bell no longer rang. The old woman’s grating voice was gone as well.

All that reached Youngho’s ears were the clashes of weapons and the grisly sound of flesh being sliced apart.

The blood throughout his body began to run cold. Every sense sharpened to its utmost.

“I’m back.”

To the blood-soaked battlefield, to the very center of enemies who swarmed no matter how many he killed.

Youngho inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. Then, in an eerily emotionless voice, he spoke.

“Hurry up and come at me. You lackeys serving a cripple.”

There was only one being they served. And yet he dared to refer to that exalted figure with such a filthy title?

Youngho’s words inflamed their fanatic devotion. With bloodshot eyes, the Demonic Practitioners charged at him.

No different from before his Regression. As always, he provoked them by insulting the Heavenly Demon and cut them down one by one.

There was only one difference—

“Unlike during the war, I’ve been eating well and sleeping well. I’m in perfect condition!”

Kwaaaang-!

When Youngho’s Sword Force collided with the Demonic Practitioner’s Fist Strike, a violent shockwave blasted the nearby Jiangshi away.

For an exchange between Transformation Realm masters, the impact was modest. Ordinarily, the shockwave would have uprooted nearby trees and hurled them far into the distance.

No—this was not enough. Judging by the power contained within their Hardened Force, the shockwave should have reached even the location of the Asura Squad.

Yet despite the collision of their forces, the damage extended no further than the immediate shockwave.

In truth, when Transformation Realm masters fought, the shockwaves they generated could be controlled at will.

By intent alone, they could seize and suppress the escaping energy.

Even so, deliberately releasing shockwaves outward was a means of flaunting one’s Martial Might.

It pressured the opponent and sought to exploit the variables created by that pressure. It was a strategy commonly seen when one faced many alone.

When outnumbered, unleashing a shockwave could stiffen the enemy’s body, and with luck, even render them unconscious—or kill them outright.

With nothing but energy.

But when one was not alone, spreading that energy became poison instead.

Inevitably, allies weaker than oneself would suffer Internal Injury even from a light shockwave.

Thus, in war, there existed an unspoken rule among Transformation Realm masters: do not unleash shockwaves recklessly.

Though shockwaves could slay enemies, they could just as easily kill one’s own allies. And so the rule had been born.

‘There’s no way I can’t follow it!’

Kwaaaang-!

Youngho’s Sword Force not only devoured the Demonic Energy released by the Demonic Practitioner, it severed his arm entirely.

Even though one arm had been erased by that overwhelming strike—so powerful it sent tremors through the entire body—the Demonic Practitioner, filled with Poisonous Energy, tried to seize Youngho with his remaining hand.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

At that instant, a terrifyingly swift sword pierced the Demonic Practitioner’s eye, throat, and heart. No matter that he was a Transformation Realm master—there was no surviving such an attack.

His body could no longer continue the fight. And so the Demonic Practitioner smiled. His face, smiling so pleasantly, was filled with boundless bliss.

Feeling the air entering through the holes torn into him, the Demonic Practitioner spoke slowly.

“Invincible Divine Cult, Ten Thousand Demons… Bow in Submission.”

Kwaang-!

The moment the incantation ended, the Demonic Practitioner’s body suddenly swelled—then exploded.

It was a savage detonation, like a Lightning Bomb going off. The Demonic Practitioners fixed their gazes upon the site of the explosion.

For an ordinary master, such a blast would have meant certain death. But their opponent was a man acknowledged by that Exalted One.

He might be wounded, but he would not be dead. And just as they expected, Youngho stepped slowly out from the cloud of dust.

Then the expressions of the previously impassive Demonic Practitioners visibly stiffened.

“Why do you all look so surprised?”

Aside from his clothes being slightly scorched, Youngho bore not a single wound. As if flaunting it, he spread his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture.

“Not losing your reason even when caught in a trap. Being stronger than imagined. Acting as if you’ve lost all emotion.”

Crack!

Clenching his sword hilt so tightly it seemed it might shatter, Youngho let out a chilling Killing Intent as he spoke.

“You thought that was something only you possessed?”

He bared his white teeth in a grin.

“What are you waiting for? It’s only just begun.”

The horrifying expression on Youngho’s face—enough to conjure the image of a vicious demon—etched the emotion of fear into the Cultists, who until now had known nothing but fanatic devotion.

Realizing their emotions belatedly, the Demonic Practitioners distorted their faces like cracked earth and surged toward Youngho.

“That’s right!”

Youngho cheered as he watched them charge.

Kakakakakang-!

An absurd flurry of strikes targeted his vital points. Not even Gundo, who had slain Cheonung, could have unleashed such rapid consecutive attacks.

In a sense, it was only natural. Those Youngho faced numbered in the dozens, and every one of them had reached the State of the Transformation Realm.

To others, it would have appeared perilous—utterly despairing. Of course, that was only from another’s perspective.

Each time Hardened Force clashed with Hardened Force, Youngho read the Demonic Energy flickering within the Demonic Practitioners.

Whenever their energy collided with his own, the Demonic Energy vanished—and that disappearance stirred unease among them. Youngho did not miss that fleeting opening.

Slash—!

“……”

The one whose thigh had been cut showed no reaction. No groan of pain, no surge of resentment—his eyes held nothing but murderous intent toward Youngho.

Yet soon he had no choice but to glance down at his own thigh. By the regenerative properties unique to Demonic Arts, his mobility should have already returned.

Then why did his body grow heavier the more he moved?

Only after looking at the wound did he realize. The area cut by Youngho was not regenerating. From the gash so deep that white bone was exposed, not a single drop of blood flowed.

The regeneration of Demonic Arts had stopped.

Understanding the meaning well, the Demonic Practitioner forgot even to send a Voice Transmission and shouted aloud for the first time in a long while.

“If you are wounded by the Sword Exalted, you cannot regenerate!”

“…!”

For an instant, the Demonic Practitioners glared at Youngho with bewildered eyes. It was absurd. Though his Martial Arts had branched from the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, its foundation lay in the profundities of that very art.

And yet a mere toy of the Heavenly Demon had halted the regeneration of Demonic Arts?

‘Even if I try not to listen, I can hear exactly what you’re thinking.’

Of course they would not have known. Every Demonic Cultist Youngho had encountered until now had been killed. That his Internal Energy halted their regeneration was a secret known to only a handful.

No matter how formidable the Demonic Cult, they could not possibly know Youngho’s secret.

Yet even rotten fish is still fish—the Demonic Cult was the Demonic Cult.

Upon learning his secret, their pattern of behavior changed.

The Demonic Practitioner who had lost an arm to Youngho charged straight at him. It was a literal charge. The madness of a man who did not care if he died made Youngho’s skin prickle.

Thrust—!

Youngho’s sword pierced the charging Demonic Practitioner’s heart. At the same time, sensing the chilling Killing Intent from behind, he tried to withdraw his blade.

Clench—!

But the Demonic Practitioner tightened the muscles of his chest, locking the sword in place. No matter what, it could not be pulled free.

Not stopping there, the Demonic Practitioner grabbed Youngho’s blade with his remaining hand and forced it even deeper into his own heart.

“Grrrk!”

He tried to chant the incantation, but blood rising from his throat prevented proper words from forming.

Having completely fixed the blade in place with his own strength, the Demonic Practitioner looked into Youngho’s face—and faltered.

Youngho’s expression was strange. Pity? No… it was closer to disappointment.

Youngho lifted his sword. The blade, fixed by muscle, raised the Demonic Practitioner’s entire body along with it.

‘What—!’

Stunned by the absurd sight, the Demonic Practitioner hastily tried to activate the Thousand-Catty Weight Technique.

But to block the fist flying toward him from behind, Youngho swung his sword backward, using the impaled body as a shield to intercept the barrage.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In that fleeting instant, three punches slammed into the Demonic Practitioner’s back—the shield Youngho had made of him.

“Cough!”

From the recoil, stagnant blood burst from the Demonic Practitioner’s mouth. Though one might have felt revulsion at the blood splattering onto his cheek, Youngho, with emotionless eyes, pushed his sword straight forward.

Kwaang-!

The moment the fixation loosened, Youngho’s blade moved like lightning and pierced the heart of the Demonic Practitioner who had struck his own comrade. Before the man could react, Youngho violently lifted the sword upward.

Chwaaaak-!

From heart to face, the Demonic Practitioner’s body split apart—his expression one even Youngho had never seen before his Regression.

“…So you feel fear too.”

With a flick of his sword to shake off the brain matter, Youngho brushed his blood-soaked bangs back and spoke.

“Not coming?”

At the sight of Youngho—like Asura risen from hell—the bodies of the Demonic Practitioners froze solid.