Chapter: 509
Drip…
It was an empty and dark space, a place where one could easily sense the humidity just from breathing.
Drip… drip…
It was so quiet that even the sound of small falling water droplets echoed loudly in the space.
The floor was stained with countless traces of blood, remnants of past events.
Whenever the wind blew, the iron chains hanging on the wall would sway and produce a disturbing sound.
Additionally, there was an unknown haze filling the air.
If someone were to enter this place, they would soon discover due to the nature of this haze.
All that smoke was poison.
How deep it was.
And how long ago it had been created was anyone’s guess.
In such an enigmatic location, an old man was facing someone.
Behind his blue silk garment, the characters spelling “Namgung” were clearly visible.
His back was rigid, as if refusing to bend, and his broad shoulders stood proud.
With his hair tied back tightly, giving no hint of disarray, and the sword at his waist, it was evident that the old man radiated a formidable spirit.
The old man’s title was Cheonjon (Heavenly Sovereign).
He was a martial artist representing the Namgung family.
He was one of the Cheonwicheon, often referred to as one of the Three Sovereigns of the Central Plains.
“Hm.”
Cheonjon tilted his head, looking straight ahead.
In front of him was the source of the annoying clinking of chains that had been bothering him.
It was a scenario of something constrained by iron and nails.
To his surprise, what was bound was a person.
No, now it was somewhat ambiguous to refer to them as a person, but they were undoubtedly human.
While Cheonjon observed with his notably cold gaze,
“Cough… cough…”
Suddenly, the chains rattled, and laughter echoed.
The person, thought to be long deceased, was unexpectedly alive.
Though they were panting as if on the brink of death, they were somehow still clinging to life.
Perhaps it was the annoying laughter that prompted it,
Cheonjon’s brows furrowed slightly.
“What’s so funny?”
Cheonjon asked with a hint of irritation.
“… How could it not be funny…”
The head of the bound figure lifted slightly.
Their hair was sticky with shed blood, eyes barely open and clouded.
Cheonjon could discern the look in their eyes.
Nothingness.
There was absolutely nothing within. Similar to how vast and empty the space around them felt.
A chill ran through Cheonjon, and he clicked his tongue involuntarily.
“… The one who struggled to become the heavens… has now fallen to a mere watchdog… how could it not be amusing…?”
Drip…
Uttering these words seemed a struggle, blood seeping from his mouth.
“Cough… cough…”
A pool of blood formed on the ground.
Cheonjon acted as though he didn’t care and continued walking.
Afterwards, he slowly bent down to meet the figure’s gaze.
Cheonjon’s azure eyes focused on the individual, and he lifted the person’s chin, saying,
“Black Dragon Sword… That’s clearly what they called you.”
“… Heh heh…! To think the great Cheonjon remembers me… what an honor…”
“No, you are not the Black Dragon Sword.”
Upon hearing this affirmation from the supposed Black Dragon Sword, Cheonjon immediately refuted it.
It had to be this way.
“I distinctly recall the bodies being collected and burned.”
When the entity known as the Whirlwind Sword annihilated the Black Dragon Corps,
the aftermath was handled by the Murim Alliance. At that time, none other than Cheonjon himself verified the body of the Black Dragon Sword.
“Yet here you stand, alive and whole.”
With such memories lingering in his mind, how could he believe someone appearing out of nowhere claiming to be the Black Dragon Sword?
“Cough… cough…”
Even in response to Cheonjon’s words, the Black Dragon Sword merely chuckled.
“… With such petty eyes, you can’t see beyond this… how foolish…”
“What is your true identity?”
“I am… the Black Dragon Sword… and…”
Hiccup.
Black blood dripped from the mouth of the Black Dragon Sword.
“… Ugh…”
Perhaps in great pain, every utterance was accompanied by a soft groan.
“… The burned body of that child… isn’t healing… why could that be…”
“Oh, what’s this about a child?”
“Hehehe…”
Burned?
Cheonjon ruminated over the words from the Black Dragon Sword.
He recalled it was said that the one who subdued the Black Dragon Sword was named Later Index.
‘You said to be the child of the nine families.’
Recently, a martial artist had been making quite a stir.
A prospective young leader born of the Gu Clan.
People claimed that he surpassed the later index, now regarded as a true martial artist.
‘Soyeomra…’
That name was quite familiar as it had circulated in the news.
To quell the rising public ire directed at the clan, one of the strategies chosen was to bring her public.
‘I’ve indeed heard they were around here.’
Approximately in Sichuan, at the Tang Clan.
Word had it that the Poison King himself had escorted them to the Tang Gate.
He saw no need to show his face, intending to let things pass.
‘However, it wouldn’t hurt to visit.’
Especially with his engagement to the Namgung clan, there was ample ground to make a visit.
Furthermore,
‘I should also see that child.’
It was time to meet his great-granddaughter since the Sword King had personally sent word about her.
Cheonjon slowly rose to his feet.
After all, further conversation would bear little fruit.
Before this, not only the Poison King, but those of the Tang Clan had subjected him to long torment.
The Black Dragon Sword had uttered not a single word.
How had they lived, and what was the intent behind their assault on the Shinryongwan?
What had they been doing all this time?
Even after ‘that’ clan attempted severe torture, the Black Dragon Sword stayed mute.
As if someone had sealed their lips.
There was no point in pursuing this further.
With that thought, Cheonjon shifted his gaze from the dying Black Dragon Sword.
Before him stood a wall that appeared to be nothing.
As he extended his hand through the gap,
Clank-!
A sound marked the action, something shifted.
Screech-!
Suddenly, a space opened up.
Within this space were stairs leading downwards.
Cheonjon briefly gazed before heading down.
Though he bypassed the Black Dragon Sword, Cheonjon chose not to cast another glance.
With an indifferent demeanor, he walked on as if he had never shown interest in them from the start.
Just as Cheonjon vanished through the door,
Thud!
The door slid shut as if it had been waiting, reverting to the solid wall.
The space regained its silence.
Amidst it, the Black Dragon Sword lifted its creaking head, staring ahead.
In a pitch-black void, devoid of any light.
“Taecheon… my lord. Please… I pray…”
Silently, the Black Dragon Sword offered its plea.
Tap, tap.
Having walked down the long set of stairs, Cheonjon ventured deeper.
He passed through an exceedingly narrow corridor.
Hummmm…
As he descended, the poison became denser. Cheonjon gathered his energy to block it.
It was thicker than anticipated.
Even Cheonjon took heed of its weight, indicating it was not at a trivial level.
Splash.
Moisture could be felt on the steps.
Does this mean he was nearing the end?
An indescribable disgust filled the air as Cheonjon quickened his pace, soon reaching his destination.
Upon exiting the passage, the initial sight was radiant in contrast to the previous dark floor, as illuminated walls filled the area.
Moreover…
Phew!
The stench of blood penetrated his nostrils.
The moisture he had sensed earlier was undoubtedly blood.
Was it human blood?
Cheonjon glanced downward.
The color of the blood, which reeked awfully was a concerning blue.
This indicated it was not human blood, but the blood of a demon.
Yet, this much?
Even if it wasn’t human blood, the sight itself was repelling enough for Cheonjon to wave his hand in disdain.
At that,
Whoosh!
A gust of wind roared and swept away the pools of blood on the floor.
A relatively clean area emerged.
Cheonjon stood observing, pondering the origin of the blood soaking the ground.
And there, it was evident.
Some sort of mass lay in layers. Blood flowed amongst the intertwined bodies of indistinguishable shapes.
Cheonjon recognized it immediately as the carcass of a demon.
The fetid stench was overwhelming.
Simply gazing at such a revolting sight made Cheonjon grumble.
“Is this the trivial thing you summoned me to see?”
His words reverberated through the space.
Only then did the figure behind him make their appearance.
“Of course not… why would I dare summon your august presence just for that?”
With a smile, the person turned out to be an elder from the Tang Clan.
“Under normal circumstances, I would have desired to greet you in a far finer location. Regrettably, I must apologize as this isn’t feasible, Your Majesty.”
“… I shall decline your tedious inquiries. I’ve just returned from a vexing encounter upstairs.”
The coldness in Cheonjon’s words forced a bashful smile on Iljang-ro as he stepped away.
After passing through the area littered with monster corpses, they approached a small table.
This was where much of the blood had pooled.
As Iljang-ro moved towards it, Cheonjon scrutinized the scene with a puzzled expression.
There was something on the table.
What is it?
Cheonjon also approached to investigate.
The moment he neared and examined the object on the table.
“…!”
Cheonjon instinctively took a step back.
The object in question was a small gem.
A round jewel exuding a brilliant green hue.
As he gazed at its radiant brilliance, the thought of its beauty flitted in his mind.
However, the reason for Cheonjon’s retreat was not the jewel’s appearance, but rather the intensity of the poison and energy emanating from it.
Iljang-ro spoke as if pleased with Cheonjon’s response.
“What do you think?”
“… Is this the finished product?”
“That’s correct. I… no, it’s the culmination of the beliefs of the Tang family, intended for the formation suggested by Lord Dokgun.”
Dokgun, the nickname of the current Tang Clan leader’s grandfather. A man who had since passed and no longer existed.
Cheonjon wanted to touch the jewel, but he chose not to risk it.
Though safeguarded by a bet, it was not something one with a low toxin tolerance should handle.
How much power needed to intertwine to generate such an aura?
Let alone,
“You’ve managed to create something like this.”
Iljang-ro’s method of creation simply piqued his curiosity.
Merely observing the end result led Cheonjon to wonder how fierce and inhumane the process was.
Those piled demon corpses behind?
That was undoubtedly just a fraction of it. Gathering enough power to create this could not be accomplished with mere scraps.
Gazing at the jewel with a composed demeanor, Iljang-ro continued.
“I’ll be sending you the manufacturing methods and materials, according to our agreement with the alliance.”
“Along with the instructions for use?”
“There really aren’t any specific instructions.”
Iljang-ro extended his hand and grasped the jewel.
“Simply swallow it, and that’s it. Doing so… ”
“It might make one ascend to heavenly status…?”
“That’s the expectation, but it’s not yet confirmed.”
“Why is that?”
Cheonjon’s inquiry made Iljang-ro chuckle.
“Because we’ve yet to test its actual effect post-ingestion.”
“Then it’s not a completed product.”
If adequate testing has not been conducted, then how could it be considered finished?
That didn’t align with their agreement.
As Cheonjon voiced this concern, narrowing his eyes, Iljang-ro rushed to explain.
“The ratios are precise. If the conditions align, it will surely succeed.”
“The conditions?”
Conditions to use this particular item.
That meant there was additional criteria in place.
What those were prompted Iljang-ro to push back his dry lips before speaking to Cheonjon.
“… Firstly, she must be a woman not past the age of maturity.”
“Why?”
“All other test subjects experienced side effects and died in explosive incidents.”
How many experiments did that imply?
The morbid tone was unpleasant but Cheonjon refrained from nitpicking.
“If there’s a first, logically, there must be a second, yes?”
“That’s accurate. The second condition is… she must possess the resilience to withstand the transforming energy.”
“That’s a vague interpretation.”
One must be able to endure the energy this jewel carries.
Does that mean one needs the aptitude and physique to endure it?
The statement was somewhat ambiguous.
“I have some degree of confidence. In fact, there’s already a fitting candidate for the experiment. It’s just that the situation has gotten a little more complicated.”
After pondering the elder’s words, Cheonjon alternated his gaze between the jewel and Iljang-ro.
He nodded slightly and said,
“In that case, let’s fulfill our promise once the results are confirmed.”
He asserted that it wasn’t even a proper product as of now.
Iljang-ro’s words alone didn’t assure him, and thus, he wished to finalize the task before discussing it further.
That was the stance of Cheonjon, yet Iljang-ro gingerly ventured,
“… Therefore, would it be alright to ask for a request?”
“To me?”
Cheonjon’s brow furrowed at Iljang-ro’s question.
“It’s just that I am nearing the end of an errand, and some unnecessary disturbances have arisen.”
“What do you mean?”
For a fleeting moment, his annoyance ebbed away, replaced by interest at the mention of an interruption.
Seeing this, Iljang-ro felt a wave of relief and elaborated.
“However it came to this, that rabble from the Gu clan…”
“…Wait a moment.”
Iljang-ro, who began to unravel the tale, was suddenly halted by Cheonjon.
His abrupt gesture caused Iljang-ro to pause.
“Why do you do this…? Is there something you find displeasing…?”
“Silence.”
“…”
Cheonjon silenced Iljang-ro and stood still, scrutinizing the surroundings.
After a prolonged period of concentration, Cheonjon spoke with a tense expression.
“… Something is approaching.”
“What…?”
Iljang-ro’s eyes widened at Cheonjon’s words for a split second.
Yet soon after, he laughed dismissively.
“That can’t be right. The layers of formations and mechanisms are vast here… we’ve installed a veritable blanket of detection for anyone daring to approach.”
If someone attempted to enter, the elder had set up alerts ensuring they would be notified.
What’s more, intricate formations layered thick made it daunting to even find this place.
In such a context, it was improbable for anyone to discover the entrance.
Iljang-ro chuckled, concluding that Cheonjon must have been mistaken.
“It’s not the entrance.”
Cheonjon’s voice bore decisiveness.
“Not the entrance?”
While trembling, Iljang-ro questioned, yet Cheonjon remained silent afterwards.
He simply kept his gaze focused somewhere else.
Iljang-ro, eyeing Cheonjon quizzically, followed his gaze upwards.
At the ceiling.
What Cheonjon was observing was the solidly structured ceiling.
The moment Iljang-ro’s gaze met it,
Boom! Crash!!
“…!”
As if lying in wait, an earth-shattering noise pierced Iljang-ro’s ears.
Up above, from a far distance, the sounds of explosions and structural failures resounded.
“What… what?!”
As Iljang-ro stumbled in shock, the horrendous noise grew louder and closer.
The speed was astoundingly rapid.
Boom! Boom!
Was this an illusion?
As the sound drew nearer, he felt an intensifying heat surrounding him.
What in the world was happening?
In such a fleeting moment where one fails to comprehend the true state of affairs,
The thunderous noise reached its peak, now directly in front of him.
At last—
Boom!!!!
The ceiling burst open, debris cascading down like a torrential rain.
Caught by surprise, Iljang-ro leaped aside to avoid the deluge.
Thud thud thud…
As debris poured down, some falls accompanied by other elements.
Iljang-ro squinted at the sight.
“What on earth is…?”
From the gaping hole, something was seeping through, melting downwards.
Realization dawned too late.
What dripped through was marking a sign that the ceiling was melting.
Hiss…!
Surrounding air turned sizzling hot, akin to being stifled.
Then,
Rumble…
‘… What is going on?!’
Iljang-ro noticed that his hands were uncontrollably trembling.
Not just his hands, but his entire being quivered.
Why was he trembling so violently? While he tensed every sinew in unexpected tension?
Tap…
Amidst the swirling dust, a figure’s footsteps echoed. When Iljang-ro shifted his gaze, it appeared.
Clearly visible.
Through the thick veil of dust, those eyes gazed back, fiery and inflamed.
Those scarlet eyes, looking as if they might incinerate everything.
As his trembling body stiffened upon meeting that gaze—
‘Why is this happening?!’
At that very moment when he was straining to will his body to move, even as it refused to comply,
Whoooosh!
A gale surged forth, sweeping away all the obscuring smoke.
Once the barriers fell away, Iljang-ro finally identified the owner of those eyes.
The once elusive red pupils with similarly crimson hair.
A man donning martial attire adorned with golden patterns.
While he appeared stoic at first glance, Iljang-ro could sense the immense wrath emanating from him.
Who was this sudden adversary?
While his mind spiraled, the man turned his gaze towards the petrified Iljang-ro.
“I found you.”
With that statement,
Snap!
Iljang-ro’s leg was forcibly snatched away.
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