Episode 667: Return of the Demon Sect Master

The spot where Sabiran landed was now a deep crater, as if a meteor had struck. Around it lay the bodies of warriors who had been unable to withstand the shockwave, scattered like fallen leaves.

“Tch, all that effort to get up here, and now this. Should’ve just stayed down,” Sabiran muttered, wiping the blood from her lips. The fact that her injuries were only this severe was thanks to the protective aura of Banmyo.

The man in the black hat, Heukyeong, regarded Sabiran with a steady gaze. His voice was gravelly as he spoke.

“Truly, you are your father’s daughter. Impressive.”

“You seem to enjoy giving compliments. Not a bad trait,” Sabiran replied, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Heukyeong’s lips twisted into a smirk. “It seems you share more than just his skills. Your personalities are quite similar.”

“Blood will tell, as they say.”

“Indeed. Then let’s see if your blood is as strong as you claim.”

“Try if you can,” Sabiran challenged, assuming a combat stance with fluid grace. Heukyeong’s eyes flickered with interest. Her movements were precise, yet unpredictable, leaving him uncertain of her next move.

Heukyeong mirrored her, adopting a stance that belonged to neither orthodox nor unorthodox schools. ‘A truly unique opponent,’ he thought, as Sabiran suddenly launched herself forward.

With a swift motion, her sword danced through the air, aiming for Heukyeong’s face. He deflected it with ease, countering with a low slash at her side. His movements were as smooth and natural as flowing water.

Sabiran spun away, narrowly avoiding the blade. The chill of the near miss sent a shiver through her core. ‘I can’t afford to let my guard down,’ she reminded herself. The strongest and most dangerous foes always appeared at the end.

Heukyeong was the first to attack again, his sword slicing through the air dangerously close to her face. “How rude, aiming for a lady’s face!” she exclaimed.

“You’re quite the talker,” he retorted.

“Well, unlike my father, I’m not the silent type,” she quipped back, launching her own counterattack.

Their swords clashed with a resounding clang, Sabiran’s weapon coiling around Heukyeong’s like a serpent, targeting his wrist. Heukyeong was not easily caught off guard, and their duel continued with fierce intensity.

Each exchange sent shockwaves rippling outward, a testament to their skill. Heukyeong was relentless, cutting down anyone who dared to interfere, friend or foe alike. The battlefield was chaos, but their duel stood out, a dance of unpredictable movements.

Sabiran, having mastered techniques from both orthodox and unorthodox schools, adapted quickly to Heukyeong’s aggressive style. He had seized the initiative from the start, determined not to let her gain the upper hand. When facing an unfamiliar style, it was always better to dictate the terms of the fight.

How long had they been at it? Nearly two hundred exchanges, yet neither could claim victory. Sabiran’s shoulder was cut, Heukyeong’s thigh wounded, and so it went, each injury mirrored by the other.

But then…

“I think I’m starting to get it. You can’t beat me like this!” Sabiran shouted, her body moving like lightning.

In a flash, her sword pierced toward Heukyeong’s throat. Or so she thought, until he vanished like a mirage.

“Disappeared?” she gasped, her sword slicing through empty air.

A cold voice came from behind her. “I disagree.”

She twisted around, spinning like a top, her sword wrapping around her like a protective coil. It was a technique developed by Seoktan-gang, originally meant for a chain sickle, but she had adapted it with magic.

Successfully defending, she launched into a chaotic flurry of strikes, forcing Heukyeong to retreat.

The ground erupted as her sword’s energy swept across it, debris flying everywhere. Sabiran pressed her advantage, her swordplay a blend of techniques taught by Maesellan, a chaotic mix of orthodox and unorthodox styles.

Heukyeong, caught off guard by the unexpected assault, shouted defiantly, “Not a chance!”

He struck down her sword’s energy with force, but failed to realize that this was exactly what Sabiran had anticipated. Each fragment of debris was imbued with energy, turning them into deadly projectiles.

“Tch!” Heukyeong clicked his tongue, desperately deflecting the incoming shards.

Amidst the chaos, Sabiran emerged from the dust, her presence a sudden, unexpected threat. ‘Foolish,’ Heukyeong thought, certain he could end the fight now.

“Ha!” he shouted, swinging his sword to cut her down.

But then…

She vanished.

Heukyeong’s eyes widened in disbelief. The Sabiran charging at him had disappeared without a trace. Had he been seeing things?

Then, a voice from behind him confirmed his fears. “I told you, you can’t beat me.”

Her sword, imbued with icy energy, spiraled upward, slicing across Heukyeong’s chest in a diagonal slash.

“Argh!” he screamed, sent flying by the force of the blow.

Sabiran’s final move was a secret technique she had learned from Yeonwoo-gyeong, enhanced with magic and the giant-slaying sword technique taught by Yusong-ryeong.

But she didn’t stop there. She leapt forward, unleashing a flurry of strikes learned from Maesellan.

Silver serpents multiplied, intertwining and striking as one.

“Ahhh!” Heukyeong cried out, his body riddled with cuts as he collapsed to the ground.

He lay there, staring at Sabiran in disbelief. “That move… what was it?”

He wasn’t asking about the technique. He wanted to know how she had vanished.

Sabiran grinned. “Blink. You’re not the only one who can use that spell.”

When Heukyeong had disappeared earlier, Sabiran had been just as surprised. She had only ever seen her father, Sabigang, use Blink. But as they fought, she realized much of Heukyeong’s power came from magic, which he used to confuse and mislead.

Once she understood that, the solution was simple. Show him something he couldn’t predict.

Sabiran had learned Blink, a spell her father often used. “No matter what, make sure you learn Blink. In the martial world, surviving is the most important thing. Blink will help you do that,” her father had always said.

At first, she hated studying magic. She preferred the thrill of wielding a sword and moving freely. Magic felt like a chore, memorizing difficult incantations in a stuffy room.

But now she understood. “I guess parents do know best.”

Using Blink in battle wasn’t easy, but it was worth it to turn the tide. And she had succeeded.

Heukyeong, bloodied and defeated, bit his lip and shouted defiantly.

“Don’t think this is the end! The real hell is just beginning!”

“Well, go see for yourself in hell. Let’s see if it’s worse than this place.”

Just as Sabiran was about to deliver the final blow, something unexpected happened.

Crack!

Suddenly, dark tendrils sprouted from the ground, slithering up the body of Heukyeong like snakes.

Ssssss!

In the blink of an eye, the snake-like tendrils forced their way into Heukyeong’s mouth.

“Gah!”

Even Heukyeong, wide-eyed with shock, seemed clueless about what these snake-like things were as he involuntarily swallowed them.

Sabiran was equally taken aback.

She frowned and quickly stepped back.

Glancing around, she saw more of these snake-like things writhing up from the ground.

“Everyone, be careful!”

As Sabiran shouted, one of the tendrils shot towards her.

“Not so fast!”

Swish!

With a swift swing of her blade, she sliced the approaching tendril in two.

Sizzle!

The severed piece hit the ground, sizzling and melting away almost instantly.

“What on earth is this?”

While the Baekhwadan warriors fought off the tendrils, the Amcheon cultists stood dazed, swallowing the writhing things like they were entranced.

‘Could it be…?’

Sabiran snapped her head up to glare at the cliff above.

”……!”

What she saw made her doubt her own eyes.

An old man stood atop the cliff.

From his face, dozens of tendrils extended, connecting him to the cliff.

Along the cliff’s surface, a dark red energy pulsed like veins, spreading outwards.

It was as if the old man and the dark ground were one.

Finally, the tendrils retracted back into the old man’s face, returning to their original form.

Amcheon cult leader Cheolgungak let out a sinister smile.

Ripppp…!

Astonishingly, his face split vertically, revealing a new face beneath, covered in sticky mucus and bristling with spikes.

It was Adler.

With a sly grin, he murmured, “The tide can’t turn just yet. We’re only getting started.”

No sooner had he spoken than warriors from the Myeolmagung charged in from the forest, shouting battle cries.