Book 12 Chapter 8

The Intervention of the Twin Demons

- Crisis Returns

“The damage is too severe at this rate. We must retreat and preserve our forces. Any further fighting would be a meaningless sacrifice.”

Hyeolgeom said with a firm voice.

Jeokyeol’s speed, which responded with silence, was burning black. It was an unexpected and utter defeat. They had been prepared to accept some losses, but not to this extent.

Already, more than thirty percent of their forces had been annihilated. While the main base hadn’t suffered a critical blow, according to the original plan, they shouldn’t have sustained any damage at all. They were supposed to be executing a surprise ambush and encirclement, not a war of annihilation. So what was this disastrous situation?

Mosaryeong, one of the three Bonggongs and the administrator of Bisajin, had vanished from his side at some point. This fueled his anxiety even further.

“Kuuugh!”

A mournful groan escaped between his clenched teeth. He had missed the timing to retreat and had allowed the situation to escalate to this point. Annihilation wasn’t the objective anyway.

The initial operation was to inflict damage on a portion of the enemy's forces through a surprise ambush and then withdraw swiftly like the wind. They hadn’t anticipated such a devastating blow from an unexpectedly fierce counterattack.

The Hyeolgungdae and Hyeolswoejo had been nearly annihilated, and Bisajin, which possessed a force equivalent to two units, was completely wiped out. If they sustained any more losses, it could lead to the worst-case scenario where even ten units couldn’t be reformed.

The nine core units, including the First Hyeolgeomdae, remained, but any further depletion of forces would be sheer recklessness. A good commander knows when to attack and when to retreat. Now was the time for the latter.

“We retreat.”

His voice, devoid of its usual strength, was utterly drained. The shadow of a devastating defeat cast itself over his face. This would be recorded as the first utter defeat in the history of the Twelve Blood Demons.

The operation… had failed.

“Recover every last one. They are more precious than the lives of you wretches.”

Vice-leader 901, who was temporarily acting as leader because the original leader had met an unfortunate(?) end, shouted. The chains of the Cheolswoebonghonjin could only be recovered through specific, skilled methods. Without them, it was nearly impossible to extract them with any amount of force. Therefore, specialized and practiced training was required.

Even within the Twelve Blood Demons, those who were not members of the Hyeolswoejo could not freely recover these chains. However, even those specialists had significantly dwindled in number.

“Leave no evidence. A clever predator leaves no trace. We are non-existent beings. Non-existent beings need no proof of existence. Erase everything!”

Jeokyeol commanded in a loud voice with a somber expression.

Before retreating, they first dismantled the Cheolswoebonghonjin, which was secured with chains. It was unthinkable to leave behind such expensive tools made of ten-thousand-year-old cold iron. The amount of ten-thousand-year-old cold iron in just one of these chains could be used to forge over fifty renowned swords. As such, they were precious metals that any sword smith would covet.

“Huh? What are these guys suddenly doing?”

Yeomdo exclaimed in bewilderment as the chains that had severely restricted their free movement suddenly disappeared.

“They must have realized that further fighting is meaningless.”

“But what does that have to do with them taking away those damn chains?”

“It means they’ve decided to retreat! It’s only natural to recover items that have served their purpose, isn’t it?”

“Why retreat? You and I both know that neither side has been annihilated yet. And they’re ending the fight already? Both sides are still intact? What spineless cowards!”

Yeomdo seemed unable to comprehend the current situation with his common sense. For him, a fight ended only when either one side was completely gone, or the other surrendered by raising a white flag. It was truly a simple and straightforward(?) way of thinking.

“Ugh, figure that out yourself! Why can’t you see that continuing this fight yields no benefit? What do you use that head of yours for?”

Finally, Binggeom’s annoyance erupted.

Two old men, with cold expressions and lean physiques, watched silently from the side as the others busied themselves recovering the chains and melting their comrades’ corpses with Hwagosan to destroy evidence. The old man with a cold expression and lean build exuded a ki that reminded one of a sword; he wore deep navy silk robes. The other was clad in brown silk robes and carried a greatsword at his waist that exuded fierce killing intent. He was large and stout, with a benevolent smile on his face, but his eyes shone coldly within.

“We owe a debt, a very large one at that.”

Nam-ui said with a frown.

“This is a disgraceful affair. How can we face the Great Young Master again like this?”

The large old man’s face was flushed with shame and humiliation. He wasn’t known for his calm disposition. Killing intent began to billow from his entire body like mushroom clouds.

“Even if we must go, we should at least say goodbye, and make it as grand as possible!”

Nam-ui, with his sparse white hair and cold expression, said with a chilling gaze, his eyes gleaming deeply. Gal-ui nodded.

“Of course, it’s best if the live sacrifice is as beautiful as possible, heh heh heh!”

Gal-ui, his potbelly jiggling, let out a lecherous laugh as his gaze fixed on a point below the gorge. He had already set his sights on a suitable offering.

Where the old man’s gaze rested, a woman was wielding a sword, emitting a white, jewel-like coldness like ground white gems. Her slender arms, holding a shimmering sword, glowed with a pure white radiance like the spirit of a white pearl. As she twisted her body like a dancer, her cascading, jet-black hair flowed with the luster of a deep, abyssal black pearl, as clear and vast as the night sky.

Even amidst the blood-soaked battlefield, she seemed untouched by defilement, her body exceptionally pure. It was as if a sacred light emanated from her, making it impossible for any impurity to approach her.

The carnage of the battlefield and the torrent of blood did not diminish her beauty, which shone like a celestial gem. She was a beacon in this hellscape, like a sharp blade cutting through darkness.

Gal-ui’s eyes, gazing at her, who shone like a jewel in the mud, like a lotus blooming from Buddha’s compassion, ignited with a dark, black flame of desire, like the flames of a fiery inferno. He wished to snatch away that brilliance, radiant as the morning star, and paint it black once more.

The ugly, cruel, and wicked desire to make her kneel and submit, to defile and violate her. Black flames, darker than the darkness, blazed in his eyes, and thick veins bulged on his hands gripping the wicked dao.

He could no longer contain his volcanic, ugly desire.

“Heh heh heh!”

Gal-ui, who had transformed into a demon, licked his upper lip with his tongue. A cold, wicked smirk, like a green-scaled serpent, formed on his lips. It was the face of a monstrous being so grotesquely contorted that even venomous snakes would have their scales stand on end.

“He has a bad temper.”

Dongbanghak frowned slightly and shook his head as he watched Gongpa, who was panting roughly while drooling. Although they had been together for a hundred years, this was the first time he had seen him lose control and be swept away by a storm of emotions. This was a very unfamiliar sight to Dongbanghak.

The two men moved to fulfill their roles. After all, it was a step to repay a debt, show an example, and instill fear to serve as a warning and a wake-up call. The more cruel and violent it was, the greater the effect. Therefore, Dongbanghak decided not to calm his companion, but to let him run wild like a beast unleashed from its cage.

The reason the three Bonggongs had stepped forward was to pay the price, set an example, and eliminate the top priority target. They stood here to gain both fear and substance with a single strike. They were not intimidated, even if there were fifty opponents. They were confident they could withdraw at any time.

And the Twelve Blood Demons would provide perfect support. There was nothing to worry about. They simply had to fully commit to their assigned roles.

Yes, simply…

They quietly recalled the list with portraits that had been given to them. It was stated that not all of them needed to be eliminated, and setting an example with one or two would be sufficient. As if to prove they didn’t have dementia yet, the list from memory immediately surfaced in their minds.

‘Changcheonryong Yong Cheonmyeong, Samjeolgeom Cheong Heun, Cheokoksam Maharyeong, Chiljeolsingeom Moyong Hwi, Bingbaekbong Na Yerin…’

As the target they were aiming for was neatly listed, there was no need to hesitate. However, there was an immense gap between the portrait of Na Yerin and Na Yerin they saw with their eyes now. Her mystique was not even a tenth captured in the drawing. If there were no further explanations, they might not have recognized her at all.

“It seems that when we return this time, the person who drew the portrait will have to be severely punished with a pay cut and demotion. Shall we start moving?”

“Good!”

The two old men revealed their ivory-like, steel-hard teeth towards their prey.

Na Yerin, with her highly developed sharp senses in the midst of the battlefield, felt the approaching danger and heard the warning bells. This was the first time since that day that Na Yerin had encountered such a vast and ugly, dark desire. Suddenly, she felt her limbs stiffen. It was instinctive fear and a bottomless sense of revulsion. She scanned her surroundings with her deeply shining dragon eyes. However, she could only sense the specific danger, not pinpoint it within her vision.

‘Master!’

Anxious, she expanded her awareness. Those who could emit such a presence must be super-masters, not ordinary ones. Although she had inherited the progress of the Sword Empress, she could not confidently say whether her still-unperfected swordsmanship could defeat the wielder of this immense presence.

‘Ryuyeon…’

Suddenly, the image of a face, always full of confidence and fearless (albeit excessively so), flashed through her mind. She wore a faint smile on her ruby-like lips. Since when had her heart, known as the Ice Crystal of the North Sea, become so fragile? Since when had she come to rely on men? Was this truly herself?

Unable to answer or be certain about any question, she grasped her sword tightly in a state of confusion. Na Yerin could now feel two immense presences surrounding her, one in front and one behind. The pressure from these presences was terrifying. Without letting her guard down against the presence behind her, she looked straight ahead.

An old man of considerable stature, with broad shoulders and a plump physique, held a dao that looked terrifyingly like a shark’s tooth in one hand. His yaksha-like eyes blazed with the ugly flames of dark desire, and a slimy, chilling grin played on his lips.

“Indeed, you are as renowned as they say. Having lived for over a hundred years, I thought I had seen and experienced all sorts of beauties with these eyes and this body, but seeing you today makes me realize my thoughts were merely my own delusion and arrogance. Heh heh, looking at you truly makes me feel like I’ve returned to my youth. I cannot contain this surging lust!”

A cold, sharp, yet lustrously shimmering, viscous voice emanated from the brown-robed old man, known as Gongpa. It was a voice that made the fine hairs on one’s body stand on end. The ugly and filthy desire burning within this old man was enough to make Na Yerin, with her dragon-like eyes, feel dizzy.

“Heh heh heh!”

It was a cruel laugh, like a knife’s stab. Gongpa licked his upper lip again. It was the expression of a viper before its prey. Dongbanghak’s lips were tightly shut, and he remained silent like a stone statue. Therefore, Na Yerin could not afford to let her guard down against him.

For the first time since leaving Cheonmu Academy, Na Yerin felt a sense of crisis, where she might be violated and then suffer a most humiliating death. While one person was already overwhelming, two supreme masters of the same caliber were surrounding her, front and back. She resolved to commit suicide without hesitation if necessary and pushed her internal energy to the maximum.

“Sisterrrr!”

Startled by Na Yerin’s peril, Yi Jinseol charged in, swinging her sword. Her twin swords danced like butterfly wings, but they were still far from sufficient to contend with these two old men.

Hyoryong immediately realized the recklessness of Yi Jinseol’s actions. Even from ten yards away, the terrifying and formidable presence they exuded conveyed vividly how skilled they were. Naturally, they were super-masters whom Yi Jinseol could not possibly handle.

Without any time for further consideration, Hyoryong sprang forward like an arrow released from a bowstring, chasing after Yi Jinseol. He could not let Yi Jinseol die here.

At this moment, Biryuyeon was on the gorge above, engaged in a battle with Mosaryeong, the Bisamagun, and was unaware of this situation.

Pwahak!

A severed green scarf, soaked in red blood, flew through the air. For a moment, Yi Jinseol couldn’t understand what was happening.

Suddenly, it felt as if time around her was slowing down infinitely.

There was clearly a red sword that had easily penetrated the twin swords she wielded without resistance, approaching her throat like a snake. And there was a man who pulled her by the nape of her neck and blocked her path at that moment of extreme peril. As the man’s sword blocked the deadly sword, which approached like the breath of death, sparks flew with a harsh screeching sound. Sparks scattered in all directions.

The man blocking her path seemed to be having difficulty blocking the sword of the old man in navy robes. Did he think one sword wouldn’t be enough? The man who blocked her path drew another sword and, like scissors interlocking, blocked the old man’s sword, which felt like a wicked demonic sword.

At that moment, with a sharp friction sound, the red sword, which had been prevented from moving forward, flew into the air.

Pwahak!

A jarring, strange sound echoed through the air.

In a dazed state, Yi Jinseol watched the nightmarish scene unfolding before her eyes, like a cruel prank by a nightmare.

As the green scarf that had tied her light brown hair was severed, the man’s hair loosened and cascaded onto his shoulders. His neat hair became disheveled like that of a condemned man at an execution site, scattering in the blood-scented wind. A streak of red blood flowed from between his brows, down his prominent nose and cheek, to his strong jawline, forming a small stream.

Thud!

Hyoryong’s knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.

“Kiiiiaaaaak!”

Finally, a desperate scream erupted from Yi Jinseol’s lips. Her mind reeled with an overwhelming amount of grief, despair, and terror. Her body felt as heavy as a ball of cotton submerged in water.

She was unable to comprehend or analyze the horrific events unfolding around her, or what had just happened, with her tangled thoughts. Was the sky falling? Her body collapsed. Deep darkness engulfed her vision.

Yi Jinseol rushed forward and embraced Hyoryong as he fell. Hyoryong still stared blankly, his eyes already unfocused. She cried out with a blood-stained voice, asking for help. She saw Moyong Hwi, Yeomdo, and the Binggeom elders running from afar. But her ears heard nothing of what she was shouting, nor what the approaching people were shouting.

However, this commotion was clearly audible to Biryuyeon, who was on the cliff.

Dongbanghak looked at his sword with a bewildered expression. The trajectory of the twin swords that had just blocked his own felt somehow familiar. He had sparred against a martial art with a similar feeling before. The memory was so vivid that he could never forget it. Even if ten years had passed, how could he forget one of the three martial arts that had pushed him to the brink of death!

“Could it be the Roaring Heaven Blood Shadow Saber (굉천혈영도)?”

However, that was a saber technique, not a sword technique. And there was no way a human from the White Path could use that saber technique. How could a mere insignificant from the White Path use the saber technique of the one revered as the sky of the Black Path!

Everything was a puzzle.

What had the strategist told him when they came? He seemed to recall being told, ‘You must be bored lately, so why not go out for some fresh air?’ At first, he thought that even if the planned operation was the annihilation of the Cheonmu Academy delegation, it could be accomplished with minimal casualties and sacrifice.

And now, he watched his judgment shatter before his eyes. It was truly unexpected.

‘Have they grown this much?’

A sense of caution began to arise in his mind. Just a few hours ago, they were insects and trash that he could sweep away whenever he pleased, but now the situation had changed, and they had been elevated to the status of formidable beasts. However, his thoughts did not last long.

Because a cold, shining sword of Binggeom was hurtling towards his neck with terrifying speed.

Biryuyeon’s head suddenly tilted downwards. Although the distance was considerable, such distance was no problem for Biryuyeon. The sight of the small-bodied Yi Jinseol holding someone and sobbing caught his eye. And the twin swords of the fallen young man were very familiar. One of Biryuyeon’s eyebrows twitched like lightning.

And when he shifted his gaze a little further, Biryuyeon’s rage exploded. He saw Na Yerin, next to the sobbing Yi Jinseol, struggling to block the fierce dao that was surging towards her like a wave from a stout man.

His eyes turned golden, shining like the sun.

Mosaryeong, who had lunged forward with the cliché “Die!”, momentarily faltered in surprise as he met Biryuyeon’s sun-like gaze. It was a mental shock, not a physical one.

He felt a sense of doubt, unconcerned with his pride, that ‘Am I doing something terribly wrong? Am I making a huge mistake?’

And he felt a very ominous premonition that his thoughts were correct. At the same time, he felt an unknown, immense energy engulfing him. In the face of that power, he was merely a small mantis blocking a speeding wagon pulled by six fine horses.

Spitting out a mouthful of dirt and sand, Mosaryeong opened his eyes again and felt the hazy sky filling his vision. He tried to move his body, but felt extreme pain surging through his entire body and realized he was unable to move a single finger. It was very useful information, but there would be no disagreement that it was damnably inconvenient.

And another calm observation revealed that he was embedded in the ground, leaving a long furrow as a memento of his passage.

He was like a mantis crushed by a speeding wagon.

Screech!

At that moment, what streaked past like a glide through the sky was Haedongcheong Uroemya, the king of the sky with blue feathers.

Tuwhak!

Mosaryeong sensed something warm, soft, and unpleasant falling onto his face from the sky. A strange, foul, and pungent odor assaulted his nostrils for a moment. In this horrific nightmare, he wanted to scream, but even his voice wouldn’t come out properly.

Uroemya, having just confirmed the healthy movement of his intestines through a satisfying bowel movement, dispelling his worry about constipation, saw a long furrow about three jang deep below his gaze, with something resembling a person embedded at the end like a finishing touch. And around the furrow, trees were scattered haphazardly as if caught in a fierce storm.

He knew it was the work of his master and, with deep pride, let out a high cry.

“Screech!”

It was the cliff on the opposite side from where Biryuyeon stood.