Chapter 216: Kongtong (7)

Jin Hayeon added, as if she wasn't particularly bothered by failing to kill Ouyang Mun.

"Less talking, use that saber more."

Her jab just made Ouyang Mun laugh cheerfully.

"Hahaha! Since you've frozen them, Hayeon, I'll handle the cleanup!"

As he swung his saber toward the vengeful spirits slowed by her ice art, Ouyang Mun thought to himself.

Slash!

Man, with chemistry like this, we are totally soulmates.

While Ouyang Mun was off in his own little world, Jin Hayeon was calmly scanning the area.

'There's really no end to them.'

For every wraith she froze and Ouyang Mun diligently chopped to pieces, the Dead Spirit Blood Demon Formation spat out new ones.

But she wasn't worried or discouraged.

"Huuu."

She took a deep breath to stabilize her internal energy and pull up more of her internal energy from her dantian once more.

She had an absolute faith in the man fighting right behind her.

***

KABOOM!!

The air roared as Il-mok's sword continued to clash against the blood-colored barrier.

Watching Il-mok suppress the blood barrier with his Sword Force, the Ghost Valley Master let out a mocking laugh.

"Hehehehe. What a foolish whelp. If you'd used that strength to fight the blood demons instead of targeting me, you might've at least had a chance of lasting until the end."

Though Ghost Valley Master was mocking him, he was also constantly pouring energy into his tablet without rest, but he looked more relaxed than Il-mok.

It was the composure you get when you're more experienced and have been stockpiling power from countless human sacrifices.

Il-mok just clicked his tongue at the old man's taunt.

"Tch."

It pissed him off, but he had to admit that son of a bitch had a point.

Even at this moment, Ouyang Mun and Jin Hayeon were fighting the vengeful spirits to protect him.

The same went for those fighting in the rear.

Because Il-mok was tied up in this power struggle with Ghost Valley Master, they were short one fighter, making everyone else's job that much harder.

Still, Il-mok didn't regret his choice.

Just as the son of a bitch said, they might be able to hold out until the Formation's energy was depleted. But if they did that, some of his companions would definitely die.

'I will never let what happened that day repeat itself.'

His mind flashed back to the Hall of the Demonic Way. On the day they were ambushed by the fanatics.

But the hard truth was that a stupid shoving match wasn't going to work either.

Il-mok pulled back his sword and calmed his demonic energy with a deep breath.

"Huuu."

He gave up on the head-on approach and started testing the shield and striking different places to find a weak point.

But no matter where he aimed, the results were similar.

All he got was a nasty scraping sound or a dull thud. The shield didn't even crack.

The reason there were no thunderous booms was that Il-mok's sword wasn't wrapped in Sword Force.

Even with the boost from that thousand-year-old herb, he hadn't achieved Transcendence in his Demonic Art yet, so he couldn't just spam Sword Force however he pleases.

And unfortunately, Sword Qi alone wasn't enough to create even the smallest crack in the barrier.

'The power is spread out evenly.’

The blood barrier that the Ghost Valley Master had created was spherical in shape, boasting uniform strength in all directions.

Once he realized this, Il-mok lowered his sword and observed the barrier with calm eyes.

"Hahaha. Giving up so soon?"

The Ghost Valley Master's mockery pierced Il-mok's ears, but he paid it no mind.

Il-mok was focused entirely on a single problem.

'I have to hit it harder.'

He needed one perfect strike. One attack that could shatter it.

Wasting energy on more failed attempts would mean he'd be too weak when the real chance came.

So Il-mok lowered his sword and poured all his concentration into that one problem.

But the topic was far too abstract.

'What does 'strong' even mean?'

To find the answer to that abstract problem, Il-mok willingly closed his eyes and sank deep into his mental realm.

"KIEEEEEEK!"

He did this despite the continuous shrieks of the vengeful spirits and the malevolent energy flowing from all directions.

Just as his party believed that Il-mok would deal with the Ghost Valley Master, Il-mok also trusted those protecting him.

***

Deep inside Il-mok’s mind.

—Just hit it with everything you've got, you idiot!

—Make a denser Sword Force! Use every last bit of your innate life force if you have to!

The side effect that was now smaller than before screamed its head off as it watched Il-mok trying to find enlightenment.

Il-mok ignored the side effect's cries and raised his right hand. Within his raised right hand, a sword appeared.

There, in his mind, he started practicing the forms of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword as if learning it from scratch all over again.

'The forms that emphasize the principle of strength are... the Soul-Crushing Sword, and the Shadow-Suppressing Strike. And from the latter forms...'

After executing several forms emphasizing the principle of strength, Il-mok's movements transitioned to other forms.

'Is just being strong really the point? If I need to cut it, wouldn't it be better to use a technique like the Northern Wind Soul-Severing Strike?'

As he moved from one form to another, he mixed multiple principles into his movements and moved toward a fundamental question.

'That boar Dokgo Pae used his sword this way.'

Before he knew it, Il-mok had moved beyond the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword and was mixing in other sword and saber arts as well.

Dokgo Pae's Nine Swords of Dokgo. Eldest Brother's Raging Demon Sword Art and other domineering martial arts.

Though he didn't know the specific mnemonics and formulas, he'd seen them enough to copy the basic forms and, more importantly, the intents behind each Demonic Art.

He didn’t know how long he danced with his sword.

‘Strength isn’t just about swinging your sword as hard as you can. Strength can also be created through speed, and it can even be realized through softness.’

Swinging faster naturally made it stronger, and swinging smoothly with elastic force also made it stronger.

And this wasn't just limited to the body.

'The same goes for Qi.'

He'd already learned to apply different principles to his regular Sword Qi, so why not to his higher-level Sword Force?

Granted, the difference between the two was night and day.

Just creating Sword Force took an incredible amount of focus and mental power, drawing on everything he'd learned.

But now that he had a glimpse of the realm he had to reach, Il-mok decided to go all out and drew up his internal energy.

Following his will, a massive surge of internal energy poured from his dantian and raced through his meridians.

Emerging from the depths of his mindscape, Il-mok's eyes flashed open.

***

'What is he doing?'

The Ghost Valley Master stared at the intruder standing before him with closed eyes and fell into contemplation.

He looked far too defenseless.

'Maybe I should just take him out right now...'

That thought kept rising, but the Ghost Valley Master couldn't bring himself to try it.

It wasn’t just because of the two lovebirds fighting so hard to protect him.

It’s also because the distance between that defenseless bastard and himself was too close.

The Ink Blood Steel Tablet was a magical tool that perfectly blocked attacks from outside to inside, but it also perfectly blocked energy flowing from inside to outside.

In other words, for the Ghost Valley Master to attack Il-mok, he'd have to lower the blood barrier.

'Maybe it's a trap to deceive me.'

If he dropped his shield this close to a master of Il-mok's level, he'd probably get his head lopped off before he could even chant the first word of a spell.

So the Ghost Valley Master kept agonizing over whether to stay put or lower the barrier and attack, but...

Nearly half an hour had passed since the bastard closed his eyes. Even that worry had gone now.

"Hehehehe. Thanks to you standing there like an idiot, all your companions will become blood demons too."

In the span of that half an hour, the intruders who had charged in here had slaughtered countless blood demons.

Thanks to that, the ghostly qi that had filled the Formation had also been depleted by nearly half.

"Seuup. Huuu."

"Huk. Huk."

But the problem was, the intruders who'd been in constant combat with the blood demons were also breathing quite roughly now.

The two lovebirds who'd been constantly scattering Saber Qi and creating ice flowers had been fighting while conserving their strength as much as possible for a while now.

It wasn't some clever new tactic. It was a desperate move because they were running on fumes.

The folks in the back weren't seriously hurt, but they were covered in cuts and scrapes.

Even the deadly woman with the thread attacks was starting to look drained.

As their wounds pile up, the formation's energy will recover through their blood, so now all he had to do was hold out here.

Just as the Ghost Valley Master reached that conclusion—

Flash.

Il-mok's eyes opened.

Following the insight he'd glimpsed beyond the wall, Il-mok thrust his sword forward.

Release of Tension (脫力).

Like a puppet with cut strings, all strength vanished from his body, then all the vanished strength was channelled to his sword to form the most perfect path for the sword to strike.

Following the principle of softness, his body acted like a whip. The force started at his toes, snapped up through his legs and hips, and amplified all the way to his wrist.

And by the time it reached the final motion, the strike was charged with twice his usual power.

And it wasn't limited to just his physical movement.

In tune with his body's movements, the demonic energy of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword also raced through his meridians.

It wasn't just following a set path anymore; at times it flowed softly, at times it was strong, and at times it was fast.

When the endlessly amplified power of internal and external arts reached its peak, an even more condensed Sword Force blazed from Il-mok's sword tip.

'Sword Force isn't just about creating it and calling it done!'

With his focus at its absolute sharpest, he infused that energy with the pure principle of Strength.

BOOOOOOM!!!

A thunderous roar echoed as Il-mok's sword tip clashed with the blood barrier.

'This can't be!?'

The Ghost Valle Master stared in horror as massive cracks began to spread across the blood barrier like a cracked eggshell. He scrambled to pour more power into it to fix the damage, but—

SHRRIIIIIEK!

At some point, Il-mok was already swinging a second strike.

It was a movement that applied a fragment of the enlightenment he had just obtained.

He'd returned the rebound force from clashing with the barrier using the principle of Softness to unleash a faster strike than usual.

Maybe it was the strain of using a technique he wasn't ready for, or maybe it was just the force of the impact, Il-mok's face had become a mess with blood flowing from his seven orifices.

CRACK!!

But the second strike Il-mok unleashed finally succeeded in piercing through the blood barrier.

CLANG!

But the impact was too much, and Il-mok's sword exploded into pieces. It had already been damaged from hitting the barrier so many times. His internal energy was a chaotic mess, and his brain felt like it was frying from the strain of using power he couldn't fully control.

Yet Il-mok dismissed the pain and took one step forward.

Within that world of pain, his concentration peaked, and the world slowed.

He could feel the raw panic in the Ghost Valley Master's eyes. He saw the old man toss aside his broken tablet and start to weave a hand sign, all in perfect slow motion.

Why was it happening?

While the Ghost Valley Master and everything else moved slowly.

Il-mok's own energy was moving at full speed, flowing through him and pooling in his hand.

Like wielding a sword, Il-mok's left hand formed a hand sword of  pure qi and carved a single, perfect line through the frozen world.

"Cough."

The moment the blow was finished, his chaotic energy erupted, and he coughed up a spray of blood. Finally, the slowed world returned to normal.

Slash.

A fraction of a second later, the sound of the cut finally arrived, and the Ghost Valley Master's head started to tumble from his shoulders.

His eyes hadn't even registered his own death.