Episode 121: The Three-Eyed Demon

To put it bluntly, calling the battle with the Three-Eyed Demon a “hunt” would be an overstatement.

It was more akin to a meal. A leisurely meal where you savor each bite before swallowing.

Tang Mujin thought the demon’s arms resembled molars. Just as molars grind food, the demon’s arms swung and crossed, sending people flying, breaking weapons, and shattering bones.

“Just die already!”

“Haha!”

The fight was bizarre.

The essence of martial arts is self-defense, with subduing the opponent being secondary.

Yet, in this battle, neither the Three-Eyed Demon nor the martial artists of the Jeomchang School bothered with defense. Their reasons differed, though.

The Jeomchang fighters simply couldn’t withstand the demon’s attacks.

Conversely, the demon saw no need to defend against their attacks. Their swords couldn’t even pierce its ashen skin.

When their blades met the demon’s skin, they slid off as if striking metal, a sight both strange and unsettling.

‘Is this the pinnacle of external martial arts?’

The top-tier masters fared slightly better. The demon at least pretended to defend against them, catching their swords with its bare hands.

Wei Huan twisted his sword desperately, managing to wrench it free from the demon’s grip, though the blade was now dull and chipped.

“What a lunatic.”

The only reason the fight hadn’t ended was Namgung Myung’s efforts.

Using a sword he had taken from a fallen comrade, Namgung Myung fought with enough skill to make the demon take notice.

He didn’t attack first, instead maintaining a stance that seemed only half-engaged in the fight.

Whenever the demon aimed a lethal blow at someone else, Namgung Myung would intervene, using his royal sword technique to defend the Jeomchang fighters.

The demon, annoyed, deflected Namgung Myung’s sword and spoke.

“Young one, you’ve achieved much at your age. Why not retreat and plan for another day?”

“Oh, sure. I can see how eager you are to let me go, with your hands itching to grab me by the neck.”

“Haha, you’re quite perceptive.”

Tang Mujin fiddled with the Heavenly Needle Case in his pocket. But if swords couldn’t pierce the demon’s skin, the needles wouldn’t either.

He couldn’t just stand by and watch. Tang Mujin pondered a strategy and found a possibility.

‘If the problem is its external defense, I’ll have to target its insides.’

Tang Mujin had a means to attack the demon internally: poison.

‘One chance.’

He gathered all the poison he had cultivated, forming a few drops of dark, bluish liquid in his left palm.

The poison seemed eager to spread, trying to mix with the air rather than remain a liquid.

The next step was crucial. He had never attempted this attack before.

But he didn’t hesitate. It was his only option.

Tang Mujin poured all his internal energy into creating a barrier around the poison, like a wall or a box.

Though he had considerable internal energy, the amount needed for this feat was almost beyond his capacity.

Yet, he succeeded in the first step.

The poison formed a black mist, contained within the transparent box of energy, slowly rising into the air. It was an unfamiliar sensation, like manipulating an object in midair.

Hong Geolgae watched in shock, but Tang Mujin ignored him, focusing intently.

The box hovered above the demon’s head.

‘No one looks up during a fight.’

As expected, the demon didn’t notice the phenomenon above.

The black mist condensed further, shrinking to the size of a fingernail, and hovered beside the demon’s face.

In a moment of inattention, the poison entered the demon’s body with its breath. Tang Mujin clenched his fist.

‘Success.’

A year’s worth of poison, concentrated into a single drop, had infiltrated the demon. Even the Three-Eyed Demon couldn’t withstand this level of poison. The Sword Master of the Taiyi Sect had succumbed to much less.

The reaction was immediate. The demon halted, eyes wide, coughing with its upper body hunched over.

In its weakened state, the demon failed to block Wei Huan’s sword. The Spectral Sword Technique, infused with top-tier internal energy, left a long gash on the demon’s arm.

Though not deep, the wound bled profusely.

The Jeomchang fighters saw a glimmer of hope.

Perhaps not victory, as they still faced six top-tier masters from the Demon Sect and the Assassins’ Guild. But they couldn’t afford to think that far ahead.

“Now!”

The royal sword technique of the Namgung family and the Four-Element Sword Technique of the Jeomchang School targeted the demon’s vital points: the nape, abdomen, and heart.

But just before the swords struck, the demon coughed up a mouthful of black blood. The droplets hit the ground, releasing a dark mist and a pungent medicinal smell. In just a few breaths, the demon expelled all the poison from its body.

The demon swiftly deflected the attacks from the four top-tier masters.

Seizing the moment when Namgung Myung joined the attack, the demon struck Wei Ying’s temple with its elbow. Wei Ying’s temple caved in, his neck snapped, and he died. No matter how renowned a top-tier master, they paled before a supreme master.

The demon spat once more, then slowly surveyed its surroundings. Its breathing had returned to normal. The poison was completely purged.

The demon’s gaze fixed on Tang Mujin.

“So it was you. The one who tried something amusing.”

The demon grinned, crouched low, and then launched itself at Tang Mujin. The force of its leap sent dirt and stones flying behind it.

The demon’s massive gray form hurtled toward Tang Mujin, ignoring the Jeomchang martial artist standing in its path.

The martial artist was merely brushed aside by the demon’s body, his bones shattered as he met his end. Now, nothing stood between Tang Mujin and the demon. It was Tang Mujin’s turn to die.

But Tang Mujin wasn’t alone. Beside him was Hong Geolgae, who hadn’t been able to join the fight properly due to his club-like weapon.

“Lotus Fall!”

Hong Geolgae executed a movement technique, grabbing Tang Mujin by the scruff and pulling him away. The two tumbled across the ground, narrowly avoiding the demon’s charge. They weren’t dead yet, but it was only a temporary reprieve.

The demon’s right hand shot out again, aiming for Tang Mujin’s head before he could even stand.

The attack was too fast to react to, and even if he could, he lacked the speed to evade the demon’s grasp.

Tang Mujin sensed death approaching. The moment his head hit the ground, it would burst.

But once again, someone intervened.

Namgung Myung leaped in, kneeling in front of Tang Mujin and extending his left hand. The demon’s right hand met Namgung Myung’s left.

Namgung Myung had a risky but simple plan. By matching palms and releasing as much internal energy as possible, he hoped to use the recoil to propel himself backward and escape.

The problem was the demon’s overwhelming internal energy, which moved far faster than Namgung Myung anticipated.

Before Namgung Myung’s energy could reach his palm, the demon’s energy surged in like a wave, reaching his left elbow. The clash of supreme and top-tier energies occurred within Namgung Myung’s left arm.

’…I’m screwed.’

The energies exploded inside Namgung Myung’s left arm, severing it at the elbow.

Blood and flesh scattered. But the time Namgung Myung bought with his left arm was fleeting.

Tang Mujin quickly regained his senses, grabbing Namgung Myung and tossing him backward. Hong Geolgae, risking his life, placed his hand on the demon’s forearm.

“Jade Shattering Palm!”

It seemed insignificant, but it had some effect. The demon flinched.

“You’ve mastered the Internal Force Technique at your age? I’m meeting many interesting people today.”

The demon kicked Hong Geolgae. He immediately lifted his body into the air, curling his limbs tightly to absorb the demon’s kick.

Hong Geolgae rolled away without much resistance, seemingly having mastered all sorts of strange martial arts by following Daepunggae.

Sam Anbul showed no further interest in Hong Geolgae. He brushed off his right arm, which had been attacked, flexed his hand a few times, and then walked toward Dang Mujin.

It was disheartening.

Dang Mujin, Namgung Myung, Hong Geolgae, and the warriors of Jeomchang Sect—all had revealed their full potential, yet none could find a way to defeat Sam Anbul.

Sam Anbul, as if dismissing everyone else as inconsequential, crouched in front of Dang Mujin. His massive frame blocked the setting sun, casting Dang Mujin entirely in shadow.

Sam Anbul muttered, “Forget the others; you’re the one I need to kill here to avoid future trouble.”

“So, I’m the best, am I?” Dang Mujin replied with a wry smile.

“The best? Who knows. But if anyone’s going to cause a problem someday, it’s definitely you.”

Dang Mujin laughed. It was a strange direction for his thoughts, but he felt a sense of victory over Namgung Myung. It was a rather satisfying end.

Just as Sam Anbul’s hand was about to engulf Dang Mujin’s face, he suddenly withdrew it, covering his temple with his palm.

‘What is this?’

In the next moment, a staff flew in from somewhere, striking Sam Anbul’s hand. A bizarre scene unfolded as the seemingly invincible Sam Anbul was pushed sideways.

All eyes turned to the direction from which the bamboo staff had come. There stood an old man with a red nose and a shabby appearance. Sam Anbul shouted, “Geolseon!”

Hope flickered on the faces of the people. Geolseon, the leader of the Beggars’ Sect and one of the Six Masters of the righteous factions, had arrived.

Whether he could defeat Sam Anbul was uncertain, but he certainly wouldn’t be easily defeated.

However, the distance between Sam Anbul and Geolseon was nearly a hundred paces. Sam Anbul made the wisest choice: kill Dang Mujin, who was right in front of him, first.

But as Sam Anbul extended his right arm, a sword suddenly thrust over Dang Mujin’s shoulder, aiming for Sam Anbul’s forehead. It moved slowly, yet carried the weight of a mountain.

Dang Mujin turned to see a familiar middle-aged face. It was Namgung Jinchun, the Sword Demon.

Sam Anbul hesitated and stepped back. Though he loved fighting, he had no intention of facing two of the Six Masters at once.

“Geolseon and the Sword Demon together? Did you set a trap to kill me?” Sam Anbul’s voice was filled with certainty rather than suspicion.

Yet, Geolseon and the Sword Demon exchanged puzzled glances, as if asking, ‘Why are you here?’

Namgung Jinchun spoke first. “A trap? Hardly. I just came out early after hearing that the demonic cultists were approaching Anhui Province.”

Geolseon also approached, picking up the staff he had thrown. “I was wandering aimlessly when I heard a commotion and birds flying. I came to see what was happening.”

While Namgung Jinchun had been searching for the demonic cultists, Geolseon’s presence was purely coincidental. Sam Anbul muttered, “What a stroke of rotten luck…”

Without hesitation, Sam Anbul turned and fled. He seemed unconcerned about the fate of the demonic cultists or the assassins from the Silent Pavilion.

Seeing this, a few top-tier experts from the demonic cult and the Silent Pavilion began to retreat, quickly following Sam Anbul in escape.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Geolseon swung his staff, striking the back of a fleeing cultist’s head. It seemed like a simple move, yet a top-tier expert met a swift end.

Just as there is a vast difference between first-rate and top-tier, there is a significant gap between transcendent and top-tier.

However, only one died. The remaining five managed to escape with their lives. Geolseon did not pursue them recklessly.

Dang Mujin and the warriors of Jeomchang Sect surveyed their surroundings. Many lay dead, broken and crushed. Though the battle hadn’t been long, less than half of Jeomchang Sect’s warriors survived.

Dang Mujin looked at the fallen, then his thoughts turned to Namgung Myung. He remembered Namgung Myung’s left arm being shattered while facing Sam Anbul.

Namgung Myung was half-kneeling, using his sword to support himself as he looked at Namgung Jinchun.

Namgung Jinchun spoke, “Myung, did you face Sam Anbul for the sake of a benefactor?”

“Not for a benefactor, but for a friend.”

Namgung Jinchun nodded slowly, his reaction inscrutable.

Yoo Jinkwang, the warriors of Jeomchang Sect, and even Hong Geolgae watched Namgung Myung and Namgung Jinchun with wide eyes. Someone whispered, “What’s the relationship between Young Master Myung and the Sword Demon?”

“How should I know?”

Namgung Jinchun looked at the sword in Namgung Myung’s right hand. Their eyes met.

Namgung Jinchun spoke in his usual stern manner. “I hear you kept your tongue.”

“I saved one thing and lost another,” Namgung Myung replied, lifting his left arm, which was bleeding profusely from the elbow.

Suddenly, Namgung Jinchun’s right hand and sword blurred, and Namgung Myung’s left upper arm was severed, falling to the ground. Blood spurted more fiercely.

Dang Mujin, shocked, stepped in front of Namgung Myung and shouted, “What are you doing?”

“I merely kept a promise. It’s not for you to interfere, Young Master Dang.”

Dang Mujin knew the promise. During his travels, Namgung Jinchun had vowed to cut out Namgung Myung’s tongue if he mentioned the Namgung family and to sever his arm if he wielded a sword.

But Dang Mujin couldn’t understand Namgung Jinchun’s attitude. Even if Namgung Myung’s left arm was beyond saving, he shouldn’t have severed his own son’s arm so lightly.

Dang Mujin pressed Namgung Myung’s pressure points to stop the bleeding and shouted, “Are you saying he should have died to Sam Anbul without drawing his sword? If Namgung Myung hadn’t wielded his sword, who knows how many more here would have suffered! Instead of praising him, you punish him?”

Namgung Jinchun scratched his chin lightly. “I don’t think it was wrong. It was the right thing to do. It would have been better if he hadn’t drawn his sword. That’s all.”

“What meaning is there in a promise that is inflexible and merely imposed?”

“There is meaning in keeping the words of the family head. Moreover, since Myung himself isn’t complaining, there’s no reason for an outsider like you to interfere.”

With that, Namgung Jinchun turned back to Namgung Myung. “Will you come back with me now?”

“No.”

“I see.”

As Namgung Jinchun turned to leave, Namgung Myung called out, “Father.”

Namgung Jinchun answered without turning around. “I’m listening.”

“You told me to return as an adult.”

“Yes.”

“Am I an adult now?”

Namgung Jinchun thought for a moment before replying, “Yes. You’ve become an adult and quite a capable warrior.”

“In that case, I’ll make my own decisions. I won’t return to the Namgung family.”

Namgung Jinchun turned to look at Namgung Myung. A brief but unmistakable look of regret crossed his face.

“Won’t you regret it? With your current achievements, you could easily become the next family head.”

Namgung Myung stood, using his right hand to support himself, and met Namgung Jinchun’s gaze. It was a moment where a grown son faced his father.

“That’s not something to seize. It’s something to inherit. I have no interest in such a position.”

“Don’t let youthful folly lead you to regret.”

“Don’t worry. If the day comes when I need the Namgung family, I’ll take it myself.”

Namgung Jinchun stared at Namgung Myung for a long moment, then suddenly burst into laughter, drawing everyone’s attention.

He laughed heartily for a while, then smiled with pride as he turned away. “Fine. Do as you wish. It won’t be easy.”

Namgung Myung didn’t respond, silently watching his father walk away.