Chapter 460: A Sad Legend, What Kind of Legend Is It? (10)

Even with his shin broken and shoulder shattered, the gate sentry still jammed his great sabre into the ground, trembling as he barely held his balance.

Qing honestly marveled, grabbing hold of the wrist that clutched the great sabre.

From now on, this Evil Path bastard is my weapon.

Something I can swing however I want.

It was the moment when Qing’s secret technique, Swinging People Around at Will, reappeared in the world.

Unlike before, through the Yongsang Banyagyung, her Swinging People Around at Will had become even stronger.

Jin Jangmyeong and Murong Juhee already matched strangely well; add one more berserking monster of brute strength, and wiping out the rest happened in the blink of an eye.

“Ah. Don’t kill them—just smash their limbs.”

“Lady...? That’s—”

Murong Juhee shuddered.

But Qing was firm.

“They don’t even deserve to die comfortably.”

“I... I understand, understood.”

Murong Juhee’s voice trembled thinly.

Qing, realizing, clicked her tongue.

“Lady Nyonong, could you check the warehouse to the east? They say surviving women are there. Look at their condition and prepare to bring them to the village. Mhm, Nyonie, help her.”

“Yes.” “Mm.”

The two kids headed east.

Qing looked down coldly at the Tyrant Force Sect fighters sprawled on the ground.

****

The Tyrant Force Sect’s First Elder swung his great sabre over and over.

Before one arc of blade-qi faded, the next, and then the next, filled the air.

It was a single sabre, yet its lingering afterimages netted together like a web, surging with fierce power.

Cheon Yuhak kept staggering back.

Even so, the Divine Thief’s light-foot skill didn’t betray him; like a circus act, he dodged by paper-thin margins dozens of times.

The truth was, Cheon Yuhak was notoriously weak in one-on-one combat.

Not a warrior but a thief, and because he was a great master of Confucian learning, he restrained himself from killing techniques.

But the First Elder was a butcher by profession, a killer whose every breath of life had been soaked in slaughter.

The gap in life-or-death experience was immense.

On top of that, their matchup was terrible.

Cheon Yuhak excelled at cloaking himself in stolen goods and striking at weaknesses in openings.

But against a master of overwhelming fast-blade power, just dodging was enough to leave him breathless.

The only reason he’d lasted without a single wound was because the First Elder had never fought someone like him.

Joints bent the wrong way, limits unknowable, twisting into anatomically impossible movements—he dodged with grotesque contortions.

A gap, suddenly!

The First Elder’s sabre cut at Cheon Yuhak’s neck.

His head vanished from his body.

But—there was no feel of flesh.

Cheon Yuhak could pin his own skull to his back with his muscles.

Extreme flexibility.

Yuryuyeonryeon handed down as torture practice barely reached ten points in most, but by pushing his mobility range over long years, he’d reached twelve-point mastery.

Movements grotesque enough to shame an octopus were possible.

If Qing had seen it, she would have babbled nonsense: “Uh, so, if you can fold your body forward like that, then... mm, no, never mind.”

Cheon Yuhak’s “missing” head sprouted again—he simply straightened it back from behind.

“You bastard! Human or monster!?”

“Monster! Surprised!?”

“You cur!”

Flames flared in the Elder’s eyes.

And Cheon Yuhak realized.

Not Flower Realm, but Entranced Devil Realm—a demonic cultivator!

Ordinary martial men, when angered, revealed openings.

But demons, when enraged, steeped themselves deeper in killing intent, immersing and striking harder.

Meaning—they got stronger.

The Elder’s sabre thrust straight for Cheon Yuhak’s lower belly.

“Ghk.”

Cheon Yuhak flung both arms high and bent his waist with all his might.

Why raise his arms? To add recoil and move faster.

He curved like a crescent moon.

Impossible without Yuryuyeonryeon.

But in Flower Realm, in the Entranced Devil state, personal will sometimes transcended the laws of the world.

This was called Sasang—Ideation.

The Elder’s sabre, stabbing through empty air, froze as if a lie, then snapped horizontal.

And, impossibly, slashed sideways with blazing speed.

Cheon Yuhak’s knee folded vertically.

The sabre barely grazed—no, it halted atop his belly.

The blade spun vertical again.

Cheon Yuhak yanked hard on the ground with both arms.

His body was dragged along.

The Elder’s sabre ripped through the seam of his pants between his legs, gouging the earth.

Only the crotch seam was cut.

Nearly unmanned before ever marrying, Cheon Yuhak wheezed out breath.

Then the Elder lunged forward, sabre still jammed in the ground.

The blue blade-qi connecting blade and earth charged straight for Cheon Yuhak’s groin.

He scuttled back on all fours like a spider.

Then the Elder’s arm swelled.

The ground ripped upward as he split the world in half with a colossal strike!

Cheon Yuhak tumbled back in disgrace, rolling just out of destruction’s reach.

“Rat bastard!”

The sabre hammered the earth.

Cheon Yuhak had no mind to reply.

He rolled left, right, back, bent his waist side to side, flailed arms and legs, and somehow, without being cut, survived—

Until the Elder’s lips curled in a vicious grin.

Murderous intent surged!

Cheon Yuhak’s heart sank.

“Elder! Jump!”

A sharp voice—an embedded dart shrieked for the Elder’s head.

His secret finishing move was canceled before revealed, forced to parry the dart instead.

Cheon Yuhak seized the gap, flipping twice and landing steady.

“You wench—what are you!?”

The Elder, robbed of his decisive strike, roared—but then suddenly froze and shrieked in another emotion.

Because Qing held up the limp young master for him to see.

“Hey now, don’t move. This young master’s head’ll go flying. Hm? Should I chop it off in a star shape?”

“You bitch! Put him down at once!”

“So mean. Fine, I’ll put him down.”

Qing dropped him.

Still in shock from his groin’s explosion, the young master collapsed boneless.

Qing’s sole pressed on the back of his head.

“Remove that filthy foot at once!?”

“Really too mean. Fine, I’ll move it.”

She shifted her foot—and planted the Moonlight Sword instead.

“You bitch! How dare you raise a sword!?”

“Wait, how far am I supposed to—fuck—uh, Master, why is that old man pantsless? Is he a perverted geezer?”

“When I went in to grab the young master, he was already like that.”

“Gasp. Then the two of them... a love that transcends class, age, gender? My god. No way. Ugh.”

In other words, she accused them of screwing each other.

Flames flared at the Elder’s eyes.

But sly Qing already noticed his state—if he were going to rush, he’d have done so.

“Whoa, what the hell, fire’s actually coming out of his eyes.”

“Because he’s a demon. Unable to restrain his insides, his internal energy manifests and burns.”

“Kind of cool. Can Flower Realm guys not do that?”

“If he leaks qi just from anger, his discipline is lacking. How could such reach Flower Realm?”

“Mhm. Then—”

“But don’t provoke him further. Demons can’t control emotion. He could really come at us to die together.”

Qing recalled the Green Forest Chief who had exploded into an infinite meteor shower of humanity.

Mm. That one...

She was weak against the strong, strong against the weak.

So she eased off, speaking softly.

“Elder? Shall we settle this by talking?”

“Do you think you can touch the Tyrant Force Sect and live?”

“Wait, is that like a sect regulation? Someone bothers you and you have to say that?”

“What—”

“Ah, cancel that. Heh. Let’s not get upset. Let’s talk.”

Qing grabbed the young master’s hair, yanking him up and shaking him until his scalp nearly tore—or maybe his cracked pelvis jolted him awake.

He groaned back to consciousness.

“Young master!”

“One... one Heavenly Venerate...”

“You bitch! At once—”

“Stop. Elder, can’t you read the situation? Look here. Sparkle-sparkle.”

Qing flared her qi.

Adding a Flower Realm master to herself—could he win? It was a show of force.

The Elder’s face stiffened.

“What do you want?”

“First, ask who I am.”

“...What are you?”

“My name is Eon Yeonyeong. From the Blood Sect.”

The young master gasped.

He hadn’t heard her introduction earlier, having been unconscious.

“The Blood Sect! Why would the Blood Sect interfere with the Tyrant Force Sect’s event!?”

“Heh. Would I pass up the chance to seize and control the Tyrant Force Sect’s successor? My terms are simple. Do you know Blood Poison? Here. Take this.”

She drew out a small pill.

“You dare—”

“Not such a bad deal, is it? You won’t have to kill someone dosed with Blood Poison. You’ll even support him, right? Take the world with the Blood Sect?”

Truthfully, Qing expected nothing.

Evil Path loyalty always put oneself first, loyalty second.

So—negotiation breakdown, young master goodbye, and since it’d be a waste to go alone, Elder goodbye too.

“If I take it, then for the young master—”

“What? You’ll really eat it? Just for this punk? You’d swallow poison—”

“Fool! Could a witch of the Blood Sect understand loyalty or human bonds? My sworn brother’s son is no different than my own.”

“One Heavenly Venerate...!”

“Young master, forgive me. I should have protected you.”

“No, it’s all my failing. I... I have no face.”

“Keh keh, such touching loyalty. To be swayed by something so trivial.”

Qing sneered—for no real reason, just because it fit the mood.

Cheon Yuhak thought: somehow, doesn’t his disciple look exactly like the Demon Overlord of the world?

“Now. Give me the pill.”

“You’ll swallow, not chew, right?”

“Keep your promise.”

“Geez. Why hurt someone poisoned already?”

She flicked the pill.

It arced to the Elder. He groaned, discontent, then gulped it down.

Qing honestly admired him a little.

So this is Evil Path loyalty?

Even worms had bonds among themselves?

“Done? Release the young master.”

“Fine.”

Qing set him down gently.

But his pelvis was fissured in dozens of places.

Trying to stand, the weight crushed him; he collapsed, trembling without even a scream.

“Master, shall we withdraw?”

Cheon Yuhak cast her a complicated look.

Was this right?

Where did she even get that poison?

And why was her Blood Sect act so flawless?

But surely the disciple had her own plan.

So he retreated with her.

The Elder rushed to the young master.

“Young master, are you all right? Your body?”

“M-my... lower half... feels crushed...”

“Excuse me. Do you feel this? Do you know where I’m touching?”

“Right foot, heel.”

“Good. The nerves aren’t dead.”

The Elder handled him as carefully as fine porcelain, as if he were his own son.

But with the Elder pantsless and the young master half-naked, the sight was hardly wholesome.

Still, after gauging his condition—

“Endure a little. I’ll fetch a stretcher—ugh, grhh...”

The Elder suddenly groaned.

Cheon Yuhak asked slyly:

“What, the poison’s hitting? Where did she even get it?”

“Heh, poison? That pill was just grain powder mixed with Blood Sand Poison. Looks like it’s kicking in now—”

“Blood Sand Poison? You mean Sage Sasa’s Life-Naming Poison?”

“Ah! You know Sage Sasa! He’s, um, really... really—”

Qing trailed off.

That old man—hard to explain.

“Loves tea? Lots of wrinkles?”

“What nonsense?”

“Ah, not the time! Master, before he purges the poison, we have to finish him!”