Moyongchan continued speaking.
“Jose, listen carefully. That guy, Cheonma, is the kind of person the martial world despises like a pest. He hides out in the remote valleys of the Hundred-Thousand Great Mountains, always scheming to take over the martial world, but he’s nothing more than a pitiful loser who’s been repeatedly driven off and forced to flee. He’s been running his mouth here, claiming no one knows about the East, making it sound like it’s some big secret. Who would believe that? What? Can’t even meet my gaze?”
He burst out laughing loudly.
In truth, neither of them was entirely wrong.
As Dansocheon said, Cheonma is a figure of fear in the martial world.
The demonic sect he leads, the Magyo, is a single military force that rivals the entire martial world, and Cheonma himself has, generation after generation, stirred up chaos and become a symbol of terror among martial artists.
But as Moyongchan pointed out, it’s also true that Cheonma is widely shunned and looked down upon.
Though the Magyo has dealt serious blows to the martial world, it has never achieved its ultimate goals, and Cheonma has always been repelled by the top masters of the martial world. As a result, anyone who practices demonic arts is ostracized and scorned.
That’s why a deeply trained Taoist like Moyongchan only holds contempt for Cheonma.
“Tch, trying to act tough even out here in the Western Regions? Pathetic.”
Yet Moyongchan was deliberately belittling Dansocheon more than necessary.
It was a provocation.
Cheonma rules absolutely within the Magyo. If someone treated him like a braggart or a liar, Moyongchan figured he might lose his composure.
So he kept egging on Jose, the outsider.
“Isn’t it ridiculous? A nobody in the East can’t even meet eyes with someone out West. What a sorry sight.”
“Sir Moyongchan, your continental language has improved, hasn’t it?”
Jose, oblivious, chimed in with a different remark, earning a glare from Moyongchan.
Jose quickly tried to recover.
“Anyway, it’s true. I thought he was some big deal in the East, but he’s just a blowhard. Without you, Moyongchan, he’d be strutting around like he’s all that. Hahaha!”
“Exactly! Hahaha!”
“Nindo meokmaejul neomi… hahaha!”
Dansocheon’s face twisted in displeasure.
As Cheonma, someone who had always been revered, this was an unbearable insult.
“You bastards!”
Dansocheon immediately unleashed his demonic martial art. He no longer cared about controlling the flow of battle. He intended to crush them all with overwhelming demonic power.
Moyongchan and Jose exchanged glances.
Moyongchan whispered, “This guy’s no ordinary foe. We have to find a weakness.”
“Understood.”
Dansocheon wildly fired off his Asura Palm Technique. Dozens of palm strikes surged forward like a solid wall.
There was no angle to dodge.
They had to stand and fight.
Moyongchan raised his sword.
The Azure Cloud and Crimson Glow Sword Technique.
Smoke and mist billowed from his blade, enveloping the Asura Palms. The dozens of palms slowed as if trapped underwater.
Then a sunset glow spread out.
The Asura Palms turned a deep red.
At their tip, a glowing orb of light shot forward.
The palm wall was pierced, and the orb sped toward Cheonma beyond.
Startled, Cheonma withdrew his technique and swung his sword. The clash between his blade and the orb erupted in a thunderous boom.
Meanwhile, Jose closed in on Cheonma.
“You bastard!”
“Hey, Cheonma. We’re in the Western Regions now. How about we meet eye to eye for once?”
Jose’s massive frame moved smoothly.
He spun on the spot, using the rotation of his waist to gather every ounce of strength he could muster. Then he poured concentrated mana onto his sword.
“Urah-cha-cha!”
Jose gathered all his mana into a single point and swung with explosive force.
It was no longer a sword strike—it was a hammer blow.
Dansocheon’s sword couldn’t withstand the destructive power and shattered.
“Damn it…!”
Jose’s attack broke through all of Dansocheon’s defenses and flew straight for his chest. If it landed, it would crush his entire body.
It felt like a giant hammer was coming down on him.
Dansocheon realized his mistake.
“Damn it!”
He was Cheonma.
The supreme ruler of the Magyo.
But he couldn’t die here in the Western Regions, humiliated and meaningless.
He had to survive, repay these fools, and ultimately bring the hypocrites of the Eastern martial world to their knees.
So he decided to cross the line he had guarded so carefully.
A voice echoed inside him.
“Do you want power?”
In the past, Cedric had offered Dansocheon demonic energy extracted from the Dark Angel’s Command Tablet, but he refused.
Unlike others who were mere tools, Dansocheon stood alongside Cedric, ruling everything together.
So he never relied on any dark magic beyond his own cultivated demonic arts.
But just in case, Cedric had implanted a device inside him.
A wicked seed that could bloom anytime—but only if he willed it.
Watching Jose’s sword strike flying toward him, Dansocheon sensed the time had come.
“I want it.”
He answered.
Instantly, the seed sent roots spreading.
A blackness wrapped around his entire body like tiny blood vessels.
Then sprouts appeared, stems extending outward.
Thin, sharp tentacles slowly rose from his back and shoulders.
In moments, the seed matured into a massive tree in full form.
“Huh?”
Suddenly, Jose realized something was wrong.
His sword was aimed at Dansocheon’s chest.
But it suddenly drifted away.
Dansocheon was far off, and Jose was slashing at empty air.
At first, Jose thought his opponent had stepped back.
No—it was he who was being pushed backward.
“Huh?”
Jose finally noticed two tentacles bursting from the ground, grabbing his feet and shoving him back.
The tentacles coiled around his lower body and spun.
“Argh!”
Jose screamed.
Sharp thorns on the tentacles scraped across his body.
“Jose!”
Moyongchan hurriedly swung his sword to cut the tentacles.
But they immediately sank back underground, moving swiftly beneath the surface to return to their master.
Moyongchan looked up.
Dansocheon, having retracted his tentacles, was exuding demonic energy.
“Too late to regret now.”
At first, he hadn’t welcomed it, but once he surrendered to the dark magic, he felt better than ever.
He could sense every detail of the tentacles growing from his body, as if his very being had expanded.
Becoming something beyond human was an intoxicating sensation.
No wonder everyone willingly embraced the power of dark magic.
“I’ll kill you all.”
Dansocheon extended the tentacles from his body. Like a peacock’s feathers, they fanned out densely behind him.
Just by looking, it was clear he had more tentacles than any knight.
Not only was his original cultivation high, but his demonic arts harmonized perfectly with the dark magic.
“You’ve gone too far, you disgusting bastard…”
Moyongchan said, now openly despising Dansocheon.
“In the end, you’ve allied with dark magic, abandoning even the pride of Cheonma. I wonder what the Cheonmas of the past, up in the heavens, would think of you.”
“Shut up, Malko. Aren’t you just the scum of the fallen Cheongseong?”
Dansocheon grinned and stepped forward.
“Don’t worry. After I kill you, I’ll slaughter all the elders of the Martial Alliance too. I’ll make Jang Younghak weep and kiss my feet.”
“Big dreams you’ve got.”
“Now, you all…”
The tentacles fanned out even wider, writhing like muscles in a grotesque display.
As Dansocheon exhaled demonic energy and took a step forward—
“Huh?”
Suddenly, all his tentacles collapsed.
“I was wondering when this would happen. You’re no different after all.”
Dansocheon felt a chill run down his spine.
From his back came Yuri Briol’s voice.
“You left during our fight, so you should’ve expected I might come back suddenly. Why are you so pleased with yourself? Happy I’m not here?”
“Argh…!”
A wave of excruciating pain surged through him.
Yuri Briol’s sword was strange.
Normally, tentacles formed by dark magic would quickly recover even if cut, but after being struck by that sword, it felt like his bones were being ground to dust.
It was as if the dark magic flowing through his body was being torn apart piece by piece.
Dansocheon felt Yuri Briol’s blade tracing along his back, severing the roots of the tentacles from his spine and exposing raw flesh.
“W-wait…”
Fused with dark magic, his senses toward Yuri Briol sharpened.
He felt even more fear than before.
Like a natural enemy had appeared, the entire flow of dark magic within him recoiled.
“It’s too late.”
Guilty pierced straight through his heart.
Feeling his soul being pierced, Dansocheon collapsed to the ground.
Yuri withdrew his sword.
Dansocheon’s body twitched.
“Long time no see, Master.”
Yuri smiled wryly and greeted him.
Moyongchan gazed at his disciple, a wave of emotion washing over him.
Yuri Briol—the bold little kid he once knew—had grown into a formidable warrior, strong enough to pierce and kill a Celestial Demon with a single strike.
Perhaps all of this was the result of some unseen design that had led him to the Western Regions.
“Not bad at all,” Moyongchan said.
“It’s not over yet,” Yuri replied.
Behind them, the monstrous creature still thrashed its massive body, while Donchichi glowed fiercely.
Beyond the distance where their battle raged, the imperial army and the anti-imperial coalition fought a brutal, bloody war.
“Are you all right?” Yuri asked.
“I’m healed,” Moyongchan answered.
“That’s good. Let’s finish off these bastards and head to Zbeta to end this.”
“Agreed.”
“You speak the continental tongue well.”
“Pretending not to is harder than just speaking it now.”
In Zbeta, preparations were underway in a frenzy.
The number of humans gathered in the detention camp had long since surpassed triple digits.
Cedric planned to shove them all into a pit, using them as sacrifices for a dark ritual.
Some had sensed their fate and tried to escape, but it was hopeless. Imperial knights caught them, punished them mercilessly, and threw them back into the camp.
Whispers of grim rumors spread inside.
“They say if you’re used in the black magic ritual, your soul gets trapped, suffering forever without salvation. We’re finished.”
“I’m scared…”
Death was now a certainty.
But in Zbeta, the nightmare went even further.
And Cory, as Cedric’s subordinate, carried out the grim task without hesitation.
“Please, Cory….”
“Just us….”
Until now, Cory had been experimenting with divine incantation magic on prisoners captured from the orc clans during the alliance’s campaign.
During those trials, the prisoners begged him desperately to help them escape the ritual.
But Cory shook his head firmly.
“Stop with the nonsense. Get lost.”
He kicked a man clinging to his pant leg, sending him crashing to the ground, bleeding from the nose.
“Hey, you there.”
“Yes?”
Cory called over Santos, the knight assigned to him.
“Send all of these people to the pit. Throw them in.”
“Yes, sir!”
Among the prisoners Cory had experimented on was Jane. Somehow, she had survived until now.
Feeling Jane’s gaze, Cory approached her.
“You’ve been through a lot. Heh…”
“…”
Jane said nothing. Without a word, she followed Santos’s lead obediently.
Cory trailed behind, watching her.
“Today’s finally the day,” he murmured.
The day of the ritual Cedric had spoken of.
They left the camp and reached the square, where the pit dug by the prisoners, stained with blood, was visible.
Inside, countless people lay sprawled, their faces etched with fear as they looked up.
Imperial knights shoved the prisoners down the steep slope.
They tumbled over the rocky earth, bleeding as they fell into the pit.
Slowly, the pit began to fill.
Cory couldn’t even guess how many were inside.
“Cory!”
Some of the prisoners he had experimented on screamed at him in desperation.
He frowned.
“Come out here.”
At his command, Santos nodded, and the knights leading the prisoners scattered to the sides.
“Please, have mercy…”
Cory stepped forward and swung his foot out.
One prisoner was kicked and rolled straight into the pit.
He shoved and struck the others standing nearby, forcing them in as well.
The last one standing was Jane.
“Get lost.”
Even Jane wasn’t spared; Cory pushed her into the pit.
“Phew…”
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he looked up.
From a vantage point overlooking the entire square, Cedric stood beside a grotesque statue, smiling at him.
Cory returned the smile.