Chapter 198

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The closer I got to the safe house, the thicker the demonic energy became, and my heart hammered so violently it felt ready to burst from my throat.

“If you refuse to come with us now, he will come for you himself.”

The demonic practitioner’s warning came back to me, choking off my breath.

Yeon Ryang didn’t even have a sword...!

His body was already in terrible condition, and there was only so much he could do with unarmed combat. If a Bishop had come in person, Yeon Ryang had no way to fight back.

I raced up the mountainside, kicking aside every chunk of wood that got underfoot.

The formation markers that had maintained the array had been smashed to pieces, and the ground was torn up in every direction, as though someone had tried to uproot the entire formation.

The unmistakable signs of intrusion nearly drove me out of my mind.

No.

No...!

I tore off my worn-out cloak and plunged a hand into my sleeve. My fingers kept slipping as I frantically pulled out my concealed weapons.

I had bitten my lip so hard I could taste blood.

Far ahead in the forest, I felt waves of air crashing violently against one another. The familiar demonic energy made my vision swim.

That sword had been so hard for him to let go of. He had struggled so much to put his heart in order...!

The instant I realized Yeon Ryang had resorted to demonic arts after all, all I wanted was to slaughter every last one of those Demonic Sect bastards.

I drove myself forward like a madwoman.

When I reached the battlefield, more than a dozen members of the Demonic Sect were gathered there.

I saw Yeon Ryang from behind, struggling upright with a broken wooden sword planted against the ground for support.

A single shaft of light pierced the clouds overhead, catching his hair and turning it a deep, blood-dark red.

His inner force already seemed to have been churned into complete disarray. He was battered from head to toe.

A long gash ran down his back, and his unsteady legs could barely support him. His whole body swayed dangerously.

Opposite him stood a hideous, hunchbacked old man, his sword hanging loosely at his side.

The old man’s gaze slowly swept over me.

Gooseflesh erupted across my skin, as though an enormous snake had wrapped itself around my entire body.

Instinct had grasped the gap between us at a glance and was screaming at me to run.

He was a master at the absolute peak. I couldn’t say exactly how strong, but he had to be at least comparable to Ak Jibaek, perhaps even stronger.

So that old man is the Bishop.

He’s the one who placed that restriction on Yeon Ryang.

My expression hardened.

The old man stared back with arrogant eyes, almost inviting me to try something.

The sight of that smug bastard made my fear ebb away.

Only boiling rage remained.

“Don’t come any closer!”

Yeon Ryang had sensed me and shouted in alarm, but that was absurd.

I darted between them, grabbed Yeon Ryang, and put distance between us and the Bishop.

Even with me barging into the fight, the Bishop did not move. His sword remained lowered.

Instead, the members of the Demonic Sect who had withdrawn to await his orders burst from the undergrowth and came after us.

Without slowing, I looked back and loosed a volley of Feather Needles.

Four of them struck vital points with perfect accuracy.

Four Demonic Sect operatives collapsed in a heap.

Interest appeared on the Bishop’s face.

“I took you for small fry. You have some skill after all.”

As he straightened his hunched back, Yeon Ryang went deathly pale.

“Sohae, no. You can’t fight him. Let your brother hold him off, so turn around and leave while you still can. Please?”

Yeon Ryang was panting as he tried to stop me.

I ignored him and lowered him onto level ground.

His body, soaked through with blood and sweat, trembled uncontrollably.

He had lost too much blood.

“Sohae. Listen to your brother for once. Please... If something happens to you, I won’t be able to live with myself.”

“You think I’ll be able to live with myself if they drag you away like this? Put some medicine on your wounds.”

I tossed him wound salve and healing pills.

Yeon Ryang looked ready to cry. He covered his eyes with one hand.

When I still refused to budge, he bit his lip and reluctantly began unscrewing the lid of the wound salve.

Only after confirming that he was treating his injuries did I adjust my grip on my butterfly blades.

The Bishop had already approached without making a sound.

He stood there watching us.

Deliberately drawing his attention, I circulated my inner force where he could clearly sense it.

His teeth ground together.

His grotesque face twisted.

“Ah. So you’re the damned Poison King’s disciple.”

His voice struck my ears with an alien resonance that barely sounded human.

It was rough and hoarse.

His entire body quivered as killing intent poured from him. A cold breeze passed, sending a chill down my spine.

“To think I would be blessed with such fortune. The disciple of that old monster, whom I could stab a thousand times and still not satisfy my hatred, has crawled straight into my hands.”

Muttering to himself, he gave the hand holding his sword a loose shake and cracked his neck from side to side.

Plants touched by the rippling demonic energy withered and crumbled.

A nauseating stench assaulted my nose.

The revolting corpse-reek of men who prolonged their lives by stealing vitality from others.

“Damn it! I’ll go with you, so let the girl go!”

Yeon Ryang shouted.

The Bishop did not even pretend to hear him.

His eyes, black all the way through the whites, remained fixed on me.

He looked almost ecstatic.

Or perhaps he was trembling with rage.

“I cannot allow such a perfect opportunity to pass. None of you interfere.”

“Yes, Bishop.”

His order came with the wet rasp of phlegm in his throat.

The subordinates behind him withdrew immediately.

The Bishop slowly raised his right hand and leveled his sword at me.

The demon sword, hungry for blood, trembled violently enough to shake the air.

“Brat. Not a single day has passed since your master took my left wrist that I have forgotten this grudge. Heaven has granted me an opportunity that comes once in a thousand years. I shall repay him with your wrist.”

Just as he said, where his left hand should have been there was only a mangled stump of flesh.

Grandfather was merciful. That bastard deserved to have his throat cut, and Grandfather stopped at one wrist.

I reached into my sleeve without answering.

The Bishop’s face became that of a demon as he lunged at me.

His bent back had long since straightened completely.

His sword tore through the air again and again, so saturated with killing intent that one mistake, one breath mistimed, would have cost me my head.

Every swing of his arm came with the sound of the earth being ripped apart, gouging deep trenches into the ground.

Fast.

His sword path was so intricate that my eyes could barely follow it, and it was far more vicious than anything I had faced before.

Every exchange felt as though I were stepping onto the road to the underworld and back.

Yet that only cleared my mind.

With my martial prowess, there was no chance I could evade every one of the Bishop’s attacks from start to finish.

Then I had no choice.

I could sacrifice some flesh.

I simply had to avoid anything fatal.

Sharp metallic clangs rang out every time the blunt demon sword knocked aside one of my concealed weapons.

I ignored the small wounds multiplying across my body and focused on keeping myself from being dragged into the Bishop’s rhythm.

A prolonged fight only hurt me.

Minor poisons did nothing to him. I had only so many concealed weapons. And my paltry experience could never match the accumulated instincts of a veteran who had spent decades in the martial world.

So I had to make it look as though I intended to drag things out while waiting for a single strike he could not evade.

I held back, watching for a chance to counterattack.

The Bishop roared.

“Scurrying around like a clever little rat! Is this what your master taught you? That venomous snake has grown old indeed!”

I couldn’t even muster the desire to answer him.

I leaned backward to avoid another strike.

And then I noticed something strange.

Was it because his left wrist was gone?

Or because he supported his weight with his right leg?

The Bishop’s body leaned subtly to the right, and every time I positioned myself on his left side, his movements became noticeably unstable.

I narrowed my eyes and studied him more closely.

It was strange that I had not noticed sooner.

He simply could not tolerate an opponent standing to his left.

At the same time, whenever his inner force collided with mine, he retreated slightly.

And yet he did not seem aware that he was hesitating at all.

Why is he doing that?

I watched him a little longer.

Then I understood.

That was fear.

Fear driven into the bones.

The body’s vivid memory of having once faced death.

His flesh had never forgotten the instant his left wrist was severed, and now it was wary of a brat like me who had not even reached twenty.

All because the energy within me resembled Grandfather’s.

The Bishop was looking at me and seeing him.

I burst out laughing.

A Bishop of the Demonic Sect? You never forgot your grudge? What a joke. You tremble at the mere shadow of Grandfather.

And this blowhard is supposed to be one of the Demonic Sect’s great masters?

His pathetic ego was so laughable that I bared my teeth and mocked him openly.

The Bishop lost his composure.

A sound like nails scraping across iron tore from his throat.

“Even that hateful laugh is exactly the same!”

“Being told I resemble Grandfather is the highest compliment you could give me. He took your wrist, did he? I’ll take the whole arm this time, so look forward to it, you bastard.”

“You insolent—!”

The Bishop charged with a furious roar.

But I was no longer afraid.

An opponent crushed beneath fear could never bring out his true strength.

As long as the Bishop saw Grandfather every time he looked at me, he would keep showing me openings.

And I was not stupid enough to waste an advantage like that.

My body felt as heavy as a mountain.

My mind had never been clearer.

I knew exactly what I had to do.

Clutching a throwing knife, I plunged directly into the Bishop’s sword path.

He flinched at the absurdly close distance and moved to protect his core while kicking {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} at me.

I twisted aside from the kick and brought the throwing knife down with all my strength, gripping it in reverse.

The inner force I poured into it without restraint condensed into a dark-blue blade that shone brilliantly.

At that instant, the world slowed as though time itself had stopped.

My five senses, trapped inside an eternity, sharpened to an impossible degree.

The metallic tang of the demon sword that had tasted blood.

The gritty taste of dirt and dust.

The Bishop’s startled breath.

The dull sensation in my fingertips, like cutting through a block of wood.

And at last, just as everything before my eyes became stained the deep blue of the predawn sky—

“Aaaaargh!”

The Bishop’s left arm was severed and spun into the air.