Zhengxie Sect - 2
That was not the end.
Having unleashed his qi spheres, Sa Won-yang now began to move in earnest.
Shashak!
"Heh-heh, where are you looking?"
His form suddenly appeared before the eyes of the startled, faltering warriors.
"!"
A predator's strike came crashing down.
From both of his hands, crimson qi stretched out like long claws.
Puhwaak!
"Kwaaagh!"
As the Emei expert's body was split in two, Sa Won-yang was already upon another.
His movements were like a wildcat pouncing upon a nest of rats.
It was a massacre.
Chwaaaak!
"Aaagh! Head!"
Though Emei had many peak experts, most were only at the early transcendent stage, with seventy years of inner strength at best.
Against Sa Won-yang, without the chance to combine their strength, they were powerless before a monster.
Lady Gyeol-han finally snapped back to her senses.
The twenty transcendent experts she had brought were already halved.
The first-class warriors fared even worse—they were all but annihilated.
And at this rate, total extermination was only a matter of time.
Lady Gyeol-han lunged at Sa Won-yang in desperation.
"You fiend!"
Her blade strike, executed with all her might, seemed to cut through space itself as it appeared suddenly before Sa Won-yang.
Shuaaaak!
It was the Formless Sword Style, an ultimate technique of Emei's sect leader, where strikes appeared as if by spatial displacement.
But Sa Won-yang only showed a glimmer of interest, without the slightest panic.
"Oh? So this is the Formless Sword Style?"
Then his body slid backward through the air, as though yanked from behind.
Lady Gyeol-han's strike slashed uselessly through empty space.
Shyaaak!
Easily slipping beyond her reach, Sa Won-yang smiled broadly.
"That looks fun. But I prefer to save the tastiest morsel for last."
Then he shot off like a bolt of light.
Toward another peak expert standing apart from her.
Lady Gyeol-han cried out desperately.
"Coward!"
But her cry and the man's death came nearly in the same breath.
Puhwaak!
"Aaagh!"
The early-stage transcendent experts could not withstand even a single blow.
Sa Won-yang's claws of crimson qi sheared through their defenses, blades, and bodies in one stroke.
Grinding her teeth as she watched another disciple slain before her eyes, Lady Gyeol-han realized his intention.
He was thinning their numbers, starting with the weaker ones.
The outcome was obvious.
"Group together! Don't scatter—stand as one!"
At her urgent command, the peak experts scrambled to cluster together.
But Sa Won-yang only sneered.
"Fools."
Crimson qi spheres bloomed again in both his hands.
Lady Gyeol-han's eyes widened.
"No! Dodge—!"
Too late.
Like lightning, the spheres shot forth, piercing straight through the clustered experts.
Pupuk!
"Ghhk!"
"Head…!"
This time, each sphere took two lives. Four more gone in an instant.
If they spread apart, they were hunted one by one. If they closed ranks, they were obliterated by his spheres.
The Emei experts no longer knew what to do.
They were utterly paralyzed by terror.
And Lady Gyeol-han herself was no different.
Despair filled her eyes.
She chased after him again and again, but never caught him.
Sa Won-yang toyed with her, cutting down yet another disciple at the farthest edge.
'At this rate…'
She could see it clearly in her mind.
Including herself, only eight peak experts remained. The first-class warriors were already wiped out.
Once their numbers dwindled further, he would no longer bother evading her.
And then… she would likely be next.
A thought flickered across her mind.
'Should I run now?'
Perhaps this was her last chance.
A pang of guilt at abandoning her disciples rose, but she quickly rationalized it away.
If the sect leader of Emei perished here, would that not be an even greater loss?
She had to survive. Even if it meant leaving everyone behind.
But another thought intruded.
All her loyal supporters were here. If they all died and she alone returned… could she remain sect leader?
She shook her head.
'Impossible. They would tear me apart.'
Her enemies would rise like wildfire. At best, she would be stripped of her title—or imprisoned for life.
As she wavered in her confusion—
Chwaaaak!
Another disciple was cut down.
"Kkyaagh! Head!"
Her desperation mounted.
"Damn it!"
Then—
From beyond the wall, across the dark sky, someone shot down like a meteor.
"Stop!"
His sword traced across the heavens, trailing crimson light like a sunset burning through the night.
The shocked Emei disciples cried out:
"The Red Sunset Sword Art?!"
It was the Red Sunset Divine Sword—Hwa Yeong bin.
With a grand arc of scarlet sword-qi like a blazing twilight, he struck at Sa Won-yang.
"Haaahhhp!"
Sa Won-yang frowned faintly and, as before, slid backward through the air, evading the blow.
It was the same reaction he had shown against Lady Gyeol-han.
"The Red Sunset Divine Sword."
"Hwa Sajil!"
The Emei disciples shouted his name with relief.
Though they had never liked his association with Lady Gyeol-han's rivals, no one had ever been so welcome.
But Hwa Yeong bin, having forced Sa Won-yang to retreat, turned not to them but to Lady Gyeol-han, and called sharply:
"Sect Leader! Chasing him alone is pointless! Line up all remaining experts in a row! You and I will guard the ends and press him slowly!"
She instantly understood.
If they spread laterally, the spheres would be less effective. With herself and Hwa Yeong bin anchoring the ends, Sa Won-yang could not easily break through.
It was a flash of clarity.
She barked the order:
"Do as Hwa Sajil says! Form a line! He and I will take the ends!"
At once, the six surviving peak experts formed a row, with Lady Gyeol-han and Hwa Yeong bin standing at either end.
It resembled a bent straight line, or a slightly curved crane-wing formation.
Thus arrayed, they began advancing slowly toward Sa Won-yang.
And at last, the smile faded somewhat from his face.
He was still grinning, but not as brightly as before.
At that moment, when despair had seemed their only fate, a faint light of hope stirred in the hearts of the Emei disciples.
***
Meanwhile, Seonu Jin and Bi Sa-yeong were racing like a storm toward the inner halls of Zhengxie Sect.
Earlier, Seonu had asked Hwa Yeong bin to aid Lady Gyeol-han when Emei's defeat became certain, to help her stall for time.
But he had also begged him not to overextend.
If their forces grew too weak, he was to flee without looking back. For Emei's sake, Lady Gyeol-han's death might be acceptable—but Hwa Yeong bin's survival was not negotiable.
Hwa Yeong bin had hesitated briefly, then nodded.
Even so, Seonu was far from confident he would truly follow those words.
'Would a chivalrous man who lives for the memory of a lover dead these past ten years really abandon others to save himself?'
It seemed unlikely.
Which meant they had to rescue the captives as quickly as possible, then return to him.
Running at his side, Bi Sa-yeong cursed:
"Damn it! This place is too huge! How the hell are we supposed to find where the women are held with no information?!"
"We'll just have to try!"
If the information they had extracted from the Guan-yinzhuang lackeys was correct, the women had indeed been brought inside Zhengxie Sect.
And, as they had just seen, most of the sect's warriors weren't Blood Cultists. Which meant there couldn't be too many places suitable for holding prisoners.
That was why Seonu was sprinting straight toward the sect's main hall, rather than searching dungeons.
'Somewhere only the leadership can access. Heavily guarded, yet beyond suspicion.'
In his mind, the main hall fit best.
He couldn't be sure—but if they weren't there, he would have to grab Hwa Yeong bin and retreat.
Anything beyond that would be suicide.
He recalled how even two masters with ninety years of inner power—Captain Seol-pung and Elder Seok Gyeong-dal—had barely managed to stall the Blood Demon Lord Ji Gwang-ok.
And Sa Won-yang was rated even higher than Ji Gwang-ok.
Bi Sa-yeong's voice snapped him back.
"Could that be the main hall?!"
Ahead, towering over the other pavilions, loomed a massive structure of overwhelming scale.
***
Oh Gwang-hon, master of the Mantis Hook technique and a loyal aide to Sa Won-yang since the founding of Zhengxie Sect, stood guard before the main hall with two subordinates.
Though a Blood Cultist, he was one of rare steadfast loyalty.
One of the subordinates spoke cautiously:
"General Oh, why not go inside and rest? We'll keep watch here."
But Oh Gwang-hon's reply was stern:
"How could I rest while the Magun himself rides forth? Never mind me—stay vigilant."
"Yes, sir…"
The subordinate bowed, but silently cursed him.
With the general outside, they couldn't slack off at all.
'Stiff-necked bastard, thinks he's some righteous sect member?'
At that moment—
From the rooftop, something dropped behind him without a sound.
So silent, in fact, that the man never noticed until a blade slit the back of his neck.
Shiiik!
"Khk!"
The brief grunt was all Oh Gwang-hon needed to feel a chill on his nape.
Whipping around, he swung his weapon—the paired mantis hooks—instinctively.
Shiiiing!
Cha-cha-cha-chang!
He had just barely parried a lightning-fast sword strike aimed at his back.
It was pure reflex, saving his life.
He leapt backward, shouting:
"Who goes there?!"
His other subordinate finally realized what was happening, yanking out his blade with a cry:
"An intru—!"
But he never finished.
Another shadow blurred past, driving a throwing blade into his neck.
Puk!
"Ghhhk!"
The speed was monstrous.
Even Oh Gwang-hon couldn't catch a glimpse of the attacker's face.
The phantom blurred behind him, scattering hidden weapons as he passed.
Pyupyu-pyuk!
Oh Gwang-hon spun to block them.
Tting-tting!
And just then, the first intruder lunged at his back, sword thrusting.
Three thrusts at once, a terrifyingly swift triple-strike.
"Kh!"
Cha-cha-chang!
He parried again, snarling:
"Three Continuous Strikes! Are you from Mount Tianzang?!"
He tried to retreat, but the other shadow was already behind him, casting more hidden blades.
Pyupyu-pyuk!
"Urgh!"
It was relentless—an unending assault, like gears grinding from front and back.
Unable to withstand it, Oh Gwang-hon abandoned his defense and rolled sideways.
At once, the swordsman pressed him, unleashing a storm of sword light like wings unfolding.
'Phantom Sword? Not Mount Tianzang, then?'
He gritted his teeth, swinging his hooks wildly to deflect the illusionary blades.
"Haaahp!"
Then—
From the heart of the wings, a thin shaft of light shot out.
The peerless swift sword, Il-si-sa-il.
"What?!"
Even so, with eighty years of cultivation, Oh Gwang-hon mustered all his strength and deflected it.
Claaang!
'I blocked it!'
Exhilaration surged—
But in the next instant, his knees buckled.
He collapsed without even closing his eyes in regret.
Thud!
Buried deep in his neck was a hidden blade, thrown by Bi Sa-yeong.
Distracted by the swift sword, he had failed to react to her strike—delivered with explosive footwork.
As Oh Gwang-hon fell, Seonu Jin and Bi Sa-yeong bumped fists and charged straight into the main hall.
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