Chapter 121: Resurrection of the Demonic Cult (4)
Thwack!
The bone-shattering sound of a heavy blow echoed through the room.
Struck by the club, the demonic cultist collapsed instantly, his eyes rolling back.
That was only the beginning.
So-mu slipped into the gaps between the demonic cultists and began a full-fledged thrashing. Every time his club swung, another cultist crumpled to the floor without fail.
Thwack! Crack! Bam!
“Agh!”
“Kack!”
It was lightning fast. In the blink of an eye, over a dozen demonic cultists lay sprawled on the ground, and fear gripped the room.
“W-what is going on?”
They had assumed he was merely a low-ranking officer from the local magistrate’s office. However, his movements were like those of a supreme master of the martial world. It was a shocking development they had never anticipated.
“Do not retreat!”
Several demonic cultists capable of projecting sword qi stepped forward. Their disciplined and fierce movements marked them as first-rate experts.
Looking at them, So-mu scoffed. While he could have finished them in an instant, he decided to test their martial arts first.
Two swords lunged toward him from the left and right. As So-mu shifted his upper body, the sharp sword qi grazed past.
But at that moment, an unexpected variation occurred. Mid-strike, the sword blades twisted at a sharp angle, aiming directly for So-mu’s throat and the back of his head.
As I thought.
This was distinctly different from the demonic swordsmanship he had encountered before.
Traditionally, the Demonic Cult’s swordsmanship prioritized raw power and speed, characterized by fierce, rapid-fire attacks.
However, these current strikes combined softness and illusion, full of deceptive feints and fluid grace. On top of that, they targeted vital points with surgical precision.
Frowning slightly, So-mu tilted his head and effortlessly dodged the blows.
Swish! Slash!
The tips of the swords sliced through the air, brushing against So-mu’s hair.
At that instant, his club swept toward the cultists whose stances had faltered. It was a speed they could not hope to evade.
Crack! Thud!
“Ugh!”
“Kack!”
The two experts who had attacked so confidently were brought down in a single stroke. As if waiting for this moment, three more lines of sword qi flared up.
A milky-white qi enveloped the surface of So-mu’s club, swirling violently. This time, he intended to clash with their techniques directly.
Boom! Crash!
A series of heavy, muffled impacts rang out.
Though it was a three-on-one fight, So-mu’s expression remained entirely relaxed.
The surrounding cultists grew increasingly flustered by the incomprehensible situation.
Projecting qi through a blunt club was twice as difficult as projecting sword qi. It was a rare feat indeed.
With his left hand tucked behind his back, So-mu deflected every attack using only a single arm.
“What on earth is this swordsmanship?”
“You don’t need to know!”
Crash! Boom!
There was no way they would answer willingly. But as So-mu analyzed their forms, a sense of curiosity arose in his mind.
Their attacks are definitely rooted in demonic arts. Yet, every stance feels remarkably similar to the swordsmanship of the orthodox sects.
It had the soft, dazzling flow of the Mount Hua Sect, along with the razor-sharp precision characteristic of the Zhongnan Sect. His suspicion quickly turned into conviction: they were taking the orthodox martial arts they had stolen, modifying them, and fusing them with demonic cultivation.
It was a bizarre and unnatural experiment. He felt that if he met a high-level expert, he might find some clues.
He could feel a formidable demonic qi radiating from the second floor. He needed to meet the branch leader.
“Let’s end this.”
The milky-white club qi (gon-qi) enveloping his weapon turned a brilliant blue.
In the next instant, a radiant, dazzling light flashed. The club collided with the three lines of sword qi, producing a sharp, deafening screech.
Clang!
Along with the dispersing sword qi came the clean snap of breaking blades.
The three attacking cultists shrank back in horror.
Club force (gon-gang)!
It was a technique of such immense difficulty that only a handful of masters in the world could manifest it.
So-mu let the club force dissipate and stepped forward. While temporary projection was easy enough, he couldn’t sustain it for long. Unlike sword force (geom-gang), club force consumed a massive amount of internal energy due to the weapon’s blunt nature.
Slipping past their defenses, So-mu unleashed an indiscriminate barrage with his blunt club. He didn’t even need proper stances. His overwhelming speed was more than enough.
Pouring down over a dozen blows in a single breath, it was far more than the cultists could handle.
Thwack! Crack! Thud!
“Aah!”
“Ugh!”
The cultists fell like autumn leaves in a cold wind. Faced with a level of martial might that transcended their comprehension, they completely lost the will to fight.
Someone shouted in panic, “R-retreat! The branch leader will handle him!”
Several cultists tried to flee toward the second floor, but So-mu would not allow it.
Like a bolt of lightning, a streak of light flashed through their midst, followed by a rapid succession of crisp, striking sounds.
Whack-whack-whack!
“Ugh!”
“Aaagh!”
Over fifty cultists now lay groaning on the floor. Standing in their midst, So-mu turned his gaze toward the entrance.
“What are you all doing? Get to binding them.”
The constables watching from the entrance could not close their mouths, their faces looking as if they were seeing a ghost.
Ban-du, the head constable, ordered his men in a trembling voice, “B-bind them…”
Clutching their ropes and clubs, the constables stepped inside.
Though the groaning cultists were completely incapacitated, the constables were still anxious. After all, these were martial artists, unlike themselves.
One constable, hesitating with a rope in hand, asked, “W-will they be alright?”
Instead of answering, the constable next to him struck a cultist over the head with his wooden club.
Thwack!
“Ugh… Why… why are you hitting me…?”
The cultist looked utterly aggrieved, but this was only the beginning.
To ensure their own safety, the constables began beating the groaning cultists in unison.
“Hit them until they pass out!”
Crack! Thwack! Bam!
“Damn it! Just tie us up, you bastards!”
“Kack!”
“Ugh!”
The pitiful screams of the demonic cultists echoed out of the pavilion, shaking Mount Agwi. Watching this, So-mu couldn’t help but chuckle.
With a light smirk, So-mu tucked his hands behind his back and walked toward the stairs.
Blood dripped steadily from the tip of the club in his hand.
He wondered what kind of person the branch leader on the second floor would be. The demonic qi radiating from above was subtle yet dense. Given that they weren’t even bothering to conceal their energy, they must be quite confident.
“Everyone is like that until they get beaten.”
Step, step, step.
The sound of his footsteps echoed softly through the silent second floor.
Amidst the suffocating tension, So-mu finally reached the top of the stairs.
Thirty cultists clad in blood-red robes stood waiting. A single glance was enough to tell they were far superior to the rabble downstairs.
However, only one person caught So-mu’s attention.
She wore a dark red robe that clung tightly to her figure, with waist-length white hair and strikingly beautiful features.
Looking at her, a hint of curiosity arose in So-mu’s eyes. Her appearance matched a description he had heard before—a prominent figure who was said to have gone missing during the height of the Great Orthodox-Demonic War.
“So you managed to survive, Heavenly Sword Witch Baek Myo-jin.”
Baek Myo-jin flinched. There was no way a mere government soldier should know her name.
“How do you know who I am?”
So-mu pulled down his military helmet, decorated with red tassels. Since they had never met in person before, she did not recognize him.
“I just took a guess to be sure, and now it’s confirmed.”
Baek Myo-jin’s white eyebrows twitched.
“How dare you mock me.”
As she gripped her sword, her aura shifted. A suffocating wave of demonic qi surged toward So-mu like a tidal wave.
Whoosh!
An icy chill swept through the room, a freezing aura powerful enough to terrify even a first-rate expert.
But who was her opponent? Projecting an aura of intimidation against the Sword Saint was pure folly.
The corner of So-mu’s mouth curved upward.
During the Great War, Baek Myo-jin’s rank was several levels below Yeon Seo-hwa’s.
“It seems you haven’t met a proper opponent in a long time. You don’t seem to know how high the heavens are.”
So-mu waved his left hand. Instantly, the demonic qi dominating the room evaporated into nothingness.
Astounded, Baek Myo-jin stammered, “R-reveal your identity!”
Lowering his club diagonally, So-mu replied, “You already know. I’m just a government soldier here to arrest demonic cultists.”
Anxiety began to creep into Baek Myo-jin’s heart. His sheer composure despite knowing her identity, coupled with his unfathomable level of martial arts, made it clear. Even without exchanging blows, she knew this was not an opponent she could face alone.
In an instant, the hostility vanished from her face, replaced by a captivating, seductive smile.
“The Demonic Cult has never attacked the government forces. The military and the martial world have a mutual understanding of non-interference. Why are you attacking us?”
Her sudden face-turn was almost absurd. But So-mu was not one to fall for such transparent tricks.
“You are suspected of conspiring with an enemy nation. If you are innocent, come to the magistrate’s office and submit to an investigation.”
“Do you have proof?”
“Still playing innocent to the end. Let me ask you one thing, Heavenly Sword Witch. Did you surrender to the Yeong Cult, or were you one of their agents from the very beginning?”
“W-what…?”
Her visible fluster at the mention of the Yeong Cult confirmed it. So-mu smiled inwardly.
“I came here knowing everything. Did you think we wouldn’t find out about your plan to conquer the martial world under the name of the Demonic Cult, while conspiring with the Hui Dynasty’s military to subvert the Central Plains from both inside and out?”
Baek Myo-jin shut her mouth tight.
Observing her expression, So-mu added one more blow, “Perhaps the current Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult is the Hui Emperor himself.”
“W-what nonsense are you spouting?”
“When the truth hits home, your attitude changes immediately.”
Baek Myo-jin was growing increasingly disoriented by his relentless questioning.
“You will extract nothing from me.”
So-mu smiled faintly.
“Is that so? There is a specialist who can make you talk. You will know exactly who she is once you meet her.”
He was speaking of transporting a branch leader of the Demonic Cult to the magistrate’s office as if it were a routine arrest. Such an event was unprecedented in the history of the martial world.
Just then, a red-clad cultist approached Baek Myo-jin and whispered, “We will buy you time, Branch Leader. Please escape.”
Even the cultists realized that the Heavenly Sword Witch was no match for the officer before them.
With a dark expression, Baek Myo-jin shook her head.
Relying on her subordinates to hold him off was futile, and escaping from him was equally impossible. She knew it instinctively.
“I command the Cheonsal Squad! Fall back immediately, leave this place, and order all cultists to withdraw from Shaanxi!”
They could not withstand the government forces here. Now that the military had taken action, any activity in Shaanxi was out of the question.
Though the Cheonsal Squad showed signs of fleeing, So-mu remained unbothered.
“Do you think it will be that easy? You underestimate the government forces.”
The cultists who were about to leap out of the windows hesitated. Someone shouted in a panicked voice, “B-Branch Leader! We are completely surrounded!”
Baek Myo-jin looked out the window.
Before they knew it, the pavilion had been surrounded by layers of government troops. Judging by their fierce aura, they were clearly martial artists. The situation was hopeless.
Dazed for a moment, she snapped out of it and screamed, “Break through! Escape! At least one of us must survive to tell the tale!”
There was no other choice. Someone had to make it out alive to report this.
The cultists of the Cheonsal Squad leapt out of the windows one after another.
Awaiting them were fifteen members of the Wolf Fang Squad and fifteen hundred government soldiers. It was a struggle that seemed reckless.
Outside, the clamor of clashing weapons began to erupt.
So-mu took a step forward and said, “Shall we finish up here as well? I’ll let you take the first move, so come at me. We don’t have much time.”
Narrowing her eyes, Baek Myo-jin drew her sword back over her shoulder, taking a martial stance.
“I will make you regret those words.”