Chapter 347: Fire Demon (7)
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The battle between Cheong-ui and Ma Cheon-wi was a slight advantage for Cheong-ui. Although their realms were similar, the compatibility of their martial arts was more favorable to Cheong-ui.
Ma Cheon-wi’s sword, which had many domineering and straight-line forms, fundamentally showed a strong tendency to be at a disadvantage against Wudang Sect martial arts.
About one hundred bouts from now. That would be enough to decide victory and defeat. Unless something extraordinary occurred, it would smoothly end in Cheong-ui’s victory. That was something both Cheong-ui and Ma Cheon-wi felt simultaneously.
Of course, complete prediction in a life-and-death duel was impossible. Had Ma Cheon-wi been an upright orthodox martial artist, he might have reversed the situation even by burning his own body despite meager possibilities.
However, Ma Cheon-wi was a demonic practitioner who did not follow the values of the orthodox sects.
Ma Cheon-wi immediately unleashed powerful Sword Force. With a sensation akin to folding and forging steel, sword qi overlapped upon sword qi. Soon, the sword qi that had been loosely unraveled like threads became a single gleaming blade of Sword Force.
Ma Cheon-wi unleashed the Sword Force. Even before the Sword Force touched the ground, the earth cracked open with a loud snap.
Cheong-ui enveloped Ma Cheon-wi’s Sword Force with his own blade and guided it beneath his feet. A deep trench was carved behind Cheong-ui. The dispersed energy of the Sword Force floated in the air, glowing with light.
No matter how specialized the martial arts of the Wudang Sect were in redirecting and deflecting, he could not deflect the Sword Force entirely. Cheong-ui dredged up bloody phlegm from his throat and spat it onto the ground. It was a slight internal injury.
Even so, the favorability of the overall battle situation had not reversed. Rather, it was closer to having solidified the advantage further.
Because compared to the slight internal injury Cheong-ui suffered, the amount of internal energy Ma Cheon-wi had expended on the Sword Force was far more critical.
Sword Force is the pinnacle of cultivation in the operation of internal energy. That was how immense the mental focus and internal energy it demanded.
Therefore, Sword Force is often unleashed with the resolve of a certain-kill strike. Because it consumed too much internal energy. If the opponent merely ended up with a slight internal injury, unleashing the Sword Force was actually a loss.
Naturally, there was no way an expert of Ma Cheon-wi’s caliber would be ignorant of that. Cheong-ui warily looked toward where Ma Cheon-wi was, but Ma Cheon-wi had already vanished before he knew it.
It was not groundwork for closing in. Cheong-ui had spread his sensory perception not only across east, west, south, and north, but from the heavens above to the earth below. Had Ma Cheon-wi approached using deception, it would surely have been sensed.
“Everyone, strike!”
There was a separate reason Ma Cheon-wi was not in sight. It was because he had fallen back behind his subordinates.
“Do you intend to flee cowardly!”
Cheong-ui shouted angrily. Of course, realizing his combat power was objectively falling, it was a rational action for Ma Cheon-wi to avoid the spot.
Nevertheless, the reason Cheong-ui shouted was to break the morale of the Blood Cult martial artists. Normally, when the commander’s bout ends in defeat, do not orthodox martial artists tend to have their morale plummet drastically?
However, the cult members of the Blood Cult were different. Without the slightest sign of wavering, they charged at the Wudang Sect disciples.
The Wudang Sect disciples also drew their swords without the slightest hesitation.
“Gather in groups of five and unfold the Taiji Sword Formation!”
Cheong-ui shouted, looking back. Even before Cheong-ui gave the command, the disciples were already gathering in groups of five, each forming a sword formation.
Although individual combat was the mainstay in the orthodox murim, they never neglected training in collective sword formations. The Wudang Sect naturally had such sword formations, and the Taiji Sword Formation was its representative one.
The orientation of the Taiji Sword Formation varied depending on the number of people composing it, and five people constituted an extremely defensive formation. Seeing that they were clearly lacking in numbers compared to the Blood Cult members, it was a natural measure.
“Do not die!”
That was Cheong-ui’s final command. Cheong-ui spread his sensory perception to the utmost to search for Ma Cheon-wi. Ma Cheon-wi had retreated with his combat strength completely preserved. Ordinary disciples would not be able to face Ma Cheon-wi. Cheong-ui had to move around and deal with Ma Cheon-wi as much as possible.
Where Cheong-ui and Ma Cheon-wi had engaged just moments ago, the disciples of the Wudang Sect and the Blood Cultists collided.
“Waaaah!”
Martial shouts and war cries echoed. The Taiji Sword Formations comprised of five moved like a single body. They were different from the Blood Cultists who rushed forward relying blindly on sheer numbers.
Cheong-ui also cut down Blood Cultists while tracking Ma Cheon-wi’s movements.
“Heavenly Demon, deliver me!”
Right before dying, the Blood Cult martial artists cried out. They were not monsters devoid of reason either. In the eyes of the Blood Cult martial artists shedding blood and spilling entrails, the fear of death lingered. They merely resisted it through their faith in the Heavenly Demon.
Cheong-ui bit his lip. These too were the same human beings. Merely frail individuals fallen into the illusion called salvation preached by the Demonic Cult.
Of course, their humane aspects were no reason to hesitate with his blade. Because the moment Cheong-ui hesitated would be the exact moment the disciples of the Wudang Sect fell into crisis.
Cheong-ui cut down Blood Cultists while maintaining the front line as much as possible. Naturally, however, Cheong-ui could not manage the widely spread front line all by himself.
“Aaaargh!”
Screams of disciples were heard in the distance. But Cheong-ui could not go. Because the sword formation right beside him was in crisis as well.
Perhaps having brought elites among the Blood Cultists, each and every one of these men was not weak. On the other hand, the Wudang Sect included young third-generation disciples. Though they were not collapsing right away thanks to the power of the sword formations, it was a structure where cracks were bound to form.
From the moment he heard his disciple’s scream, Cheong-ui could not conserve his strength for Ma Cheon-wi who might appear suddenly. He attacked wide areas with techniques of maximum destructive power.
He could feel the internal energy of several sixty-year cycles accumulated over more than half a century depleting rapidly.
“Everyone, fight while retreating slowly!”
Giving the command, Cheong-ui swept the battlefield with Sword Force. The Blood Cult martial artists were mercilessly sliced apart by Cheong-ui’s Sword Force.
In the first place, having seemingly never learned how to deflect swords and defend, countless cultists pushed their blades forward head-on, only to be cleaved in two along with their swords.
“Maintain the formations as much as possible and retreat!”
With the encouragement of the elders, the Wudang Sect disciples pulled back. Normally, the vanguard of the most dangerous formations was taken by first-generation disciples or elders.
Consequently, casualties were naturally highest among the first-generation disciples and elders.
“……Ah.”
Even while cutting down Blood Cult martial artists with his blade, Cheong-ui saw a junior martial brother dying as the light faded from his eyes.
A ripple surged through his heart, but biting his lip, he controlled it as much as possible. Being swept away by emotion right now meant total annihilation.
However, the tide of battle was gradually pushing the Wudang Sect back. They were outnumbered, and their average martial prowess was inferior to the Blood Cult, so it was a natural outcome.
At best, what was advantageous for the Wudang Sect was having more high-level experts than the Blood Cultists. But that advantage too could not help but lose its luster as time passed.
The people of the Wudang Sect tried to protect one another, while the Blood Cult threw their lives away just to inflict even a slight wound. No matter how defensively they moved, casualties were bound to occur.
Eventually, departures began to appear one by one even within the Taiji Sword Formations comprised of five people each.
Naturally, they did not break formation and leave just to save themselves. When a formation was on the verge of collapsing, they sacrificed themselves to save at least the remaining four.
Amidst roars, screams, and thick blood stench, the expressions of the people were dazed. Both the Blood Cultists and the Wudang Sect disciples seemed not to know what they were doing.
Cheong-ui was also holding on tightly to his sanity, but seeing his junior brothers and nephews fall before his eyes without being saved, his consciousness was growing increasingly faint. Every time a Wudang disciple died, it felt as though one of the strings holding his heart snapped.
Before he knew it, tears flowed from Cheong-ui’s eyes. His strength ended here. No matter how many Blood Cultists he cut down, the dead disciples would not return alive, nor could he stop the disciples who would die going forward.
Should he curse his choice of stepping out of the safe house? What pained his heart most was that among the disciples dying before his eyes, not a single one looked at him with resentful eyes.
The apologies of those departing first and their concern for those left behind. Those all became the burden of debt for the survivors.
The acrid smoke of burning Mount Wudang carried on the wind all the way to Jun County. As if symbolizing the dark cloud hanging over the Wudang Sect.
Just then, a sword suddenly thrust straight toward Cheong-ui. That sword possessed a strength distinct from ordinary martial artists. Cheong-ui also focused on the flying sword strike and parried it, but having already expended much of his strength, Cheong-ui was pushed back and had no choice but to roll across the ground.
“Haha. Sect Leader. What was that just now that made you roll all the way on the ground?”
The one reappearing was Ma Cheon-wi. Ma Cheon-wi wore an abominable smile on his face.
He had returned once Cheong-ui’s strength appeared to have weakened. Without engaging in battle, he had pulled back and even completed a brief Small Heavenly Circulation, returning to his optimal state.
“To think you replenished your strength while your subordinates were dying.”
“Did I not say? That is our way. If the Heavenly Demon were in a crisis like mine, I too would sacrifice my life to buy time.”
“What meaning does such a life have at all?”
“Each person decides their own meaning. We merely entrusted our lives to the Heavenly Demon. If you have no god to believe in, how about believing in one? The final road you walk would be quite peaceful.”
“Shut your mouth!”
Cheong-ui shouted angrily. Suddenly, he felt resentment toward the Martial Uncles. They surely had the power to stop such a tragedy.
Just what were they looking at to remain silent even while taking the sacrifice of these young disciples as collateral?
What were the celestials they spoke of, and for what purpose did those in the Upper Realm exist?
He resented them. How could they remain still when their grand-disciples were dying and the foundation of the Wudang Sect was being uprooted? What was the battle among Immortals that they feared so much?
“What is a god that you stake everything like that? Are the people beside you not enough for your life?”
“Karmic ties will vanish in the end anyway. But what the Heavenly Demon promises is eternal.”
“Have you ever seen it with your own eyes?”
“It is the realm of faith.”
“It appears to be the realm of foolishness.”
“In the end, we won and the Wudang Sect lost. If you lost to foolish ones, the Wudang Sect must be even more foolish.”
“Victory and defeat do not divide foolishness and wisdom. It is true our strength fell short of yours, but it is also true that you are fools.”
“Believe as you wish. For I believe differently.”
“It is not different; it is wrong, you bastard!”
Shouting at the top of his lungs, Cheong-ui charged at Ma Cheon-wi. But Ma Cheon-wi casually deflected the sword as if shooing a fly. Having already expended countless Sword Force strikes and internal energy, Cheong-ui was miserably hurled away by that alone.
“Had you witnessed even a little of what is called a miracle, you might not have become such a foolish man.”
Ma Cheon-wi slowly approached Cheong-ui lying sprawled on the ground.
To Cheong-ui, who had already dredged up and used his very last drop of internal energy, there was no strength left to resist. He merely hoped that the retreating Wudang Sect disciples would survive in even greater numbers to leave behind the soul of the Wudang Sect.
“You were foolish, but noble. Watching you rush about desperately to protect your disciples was sufficiently moving. Your only problem was that you did not believe in the Heavenly Demon.”
Hearing such absurd words, Cheong-ui did not even feel the will to answer. He intended to close his eyes and face death quietly. Whatever curses he uttered here would merely be the ugly wails of a loser.
“Farewell.”
Ma Cheon-wi’s sword fell slowly.
“Sect Leader!”
Cheong-ui’s eyes snapped open having accepted the end. A shockwave crossed from far away, striking the flat of Ma Cheon-wi’s sword with immense force. Ma Cheon-wi’s sword, which had been about to pierce Cheong-ui’s heart, ended up embedding deeply into the ground.
It was in the blink of an eye. Before Cheong-ui, Muk Hui-yeong stood. While keeping Ma Cheon-wi in his guard, Muk Hui-yeong also looked around at the devastation.
Corpses of Blood Cultists made up the majority, but the corpses of Wudang Sect disciples were by no means few.
“You, do not even think of returning alive.”
Muk Hui-yeong began to radiate killing intent like never before. Ma Cheon-wi formed a smile.