Chapter 41
It was definitely him.
The man who had been a top disciple of the Cheongseong Sect, one of the few with exceptional martial talent.
His striking appearance, enough to captivate people of all ages and genders, was unforgettable.
When he was a Taoist, he exuded a pure, gentle aura—but the Cheonma standing before them now radiated a dangerous, languid presence.
It was impossible to believe they were the same person; the atmosphere around him had completely shifted.
He, too, had once been one of the people kidnapped by the demon sect, like Paeng Seo-jin.
And now, suddenly, he appeared to demonstrate Cheonma’s martial skills. Amazingly, he had mastered those skills without losing his mind.
To think that he was the one who had become the new sect leader.
Could the great blood calamity from fifty years ago rise again?
Paeng Ji-ryang’s thoughts did not progress further.
“Asura Blood-Sky Sword, Non-Heavenly Kill.”
As the man spoke in a low voice, the five swords held by the demon simultaneously moved.
Their motion was like a bolt of lightning.
The cluster of light pouring overhead was beautiful—but that beauty was lethal. Anyone entranced would lose their life.
Paeng Ji-ryang’s eyes widened.
He tried, too late, to block the raining swords.
His body was cleanly split into five pieces.
Blood spouted above him like a fountain.
The man looked down at Paeng Ji-ryang’s lifeless body with indifferent eyes.
“I am not the person you think I am, Cheonma.”
Crack.
The man’s foot mercilessly crushed Paeng Ji-ryang’s head.
“And I am the calamity who will become the new master of this world.”
Cheonma Sawu.
He had long abandoned his true identity and now sought the pinnacle of the Asura Blood-Sky Sword.
By today, he had easily defeated one of the Seven Martial Lords, the Taoist Paeng Ji-ryang.
But it was not only the Taoist who had been eliminated.
The Hebei Paeng Clan, which had long ruled over Beijing, was disappearing as well.
Not a single pavilion made of red pine had survived the flames.
Where the burned plaques had fallen, the dead warriors of the Hebei Paeng Clan lay scattered.
The few surviving warriors groaned in pain, desperately hoping for rescue.
But no one remained to save them. Even the Taoist had left this world in vain.
The raging flames lit up the night sky.
It was a fire that would not easily die out.
Then, through the flames, two figures leapt into view.
They had crossed through the broken outer wall caused by Paeng Ji-ryang’s attack, and now stared at Cheonma, who was crushing Paeng Ji-ryang’s head.
Behind Cheonma, the six Asura arms still lingered, ominously looming.
One of the newly arrived men looked at Asura in awe.
“The Asura Blood-Sky Sword’s great achievement is within reach, Lord! The world will tremble at the power of the sect leader that even the Taoist could not touch!”
He exclaimed, bowing and pounding his head repeatedly on the ground.
“Somagi, be quiet.”
Yet Somagi was still moved, alive, and able to witness Cheonma’s martial skills again.
To Somagi, Cheonma was his eternal master and his glory.
Fifty years ago, the demon sect that had sought to dominate the martial world with Cheonma was utterly defeated by the desperate resistance of the Martial Alliance and the efforts of the Chuhon Sword.
Many demons died, but Somagi survived by sheer luck.
Together with Baek Garim, who also survived, Somagi spent fifty years striving for the revival of the demon sect.
They sought talented disciples from righteous sects, kidnapped them, and forced them to learn Cheonma’s martial skills.
Of course, the kidnapped youths from righteous sects were not obedient. They had caused endless trouble.
Among them, the man who had now become Cheonma had resisted the most.
In the past, Somagi did not expect he would become Cheonma.
But one day, suddenly, as if transformed into another person, he began to master the Asura Blood-Sky Sword.
It seemed he had resolved to become Cheonma.
What had changed him?
There was clearly a trigger, but Somagi did not know it.
Or rather, he did not wish to know.
For Somagi, what mattered was simply the man’s accomplishment.
The rapidly changing man grew at an astonishing speed, eventually summoning the six Asura arms.
He had fulfilled the prerequisite to fully unleash the Asura Blood-Sky Sword and become Cheonma.
Afterward, he perfected the sword technique, holding one sword in each of Asura’s six hands.
Now, he could wield the fifth sword.
Recalling the past, Somagi’s eyes reddened.
If the current Cheonma were to hold the sixth sword, vengeance for the enemies of fifty years ago could be taken, and the demon sect could dominate the world.
Somagi, entranced by Cheonma’s red eyes, banged his head on the floor again.
“Soon, the world will lie at the feet of the sect leader.”
Cheonma ignored Somagi’s ongoing praise.
‘It’s fine to obey, but this excessive adulation is hard to get used to.’
Cheonma’s gaze shifted to the man who had appeared alongside Somagi.
The man was dressed impeccably, like a scholar, ill-suited for the battlefield. His white silk clothes bore not a drop of blood.
He held a folding fan, revealing a radiant, beautiful face beyond it.
Yet his facial features were sharp, preventing him from looking purely delicate.
Depending on the angle, he could be seen as either a striking man or a stunning woman.
His name flowed from Cheonma’s lips:
“Baek Garim, have the remnants of the Paeng clan been properly dealt with?”
His name was Baek Garim.
He was the head of the Extreme Demon Hall, one of the four main branches of the demon sect.
The Extreme Demon Hall was the largest and most important of the four, managing all the sect’s resources and overall decision-making.
“Yes. Somagi was of little use, so I put in extra effort.”
“Good work.”
Cheonma’s blood-soaked feet began moving forward.
He surveyed the view through the broken outer wall.
The Hebei Paeng Clan was engulfed in flames.
Baek Garim, Somagi, the martial force Hyeolrangdae, the Extreme Demon Hall, and the madmen accompanying them had dragged everyone of the Hebei Paeng Clan to death.
The annihilation of one of the five great clans was complete.
It was possible only through the full mobilization of the demon sect’s power.
No one would survive this day.
As he thought this, a sudden pang struck his heart.
Through the gray smoke rising from the flames, memories long forgotten flickered like heat haze.
“M-Master Gong… I… I am sorry I couldn’t help…”
Cheonma’s eyes darkened further, gripped by faint, long-forgotten memories.
His hands trembled, holding the black Je-ma Hyeon Sword.
The sword, tasting blood, thirsted for more killing.
“Kill them all. Let a storm of blood rage.”
A strange, throat-scratching voice resonated in Cheonma’s ears.
The temptation continued incessantly, clouding his mind.
The demonic whisper was “madness.”
Madness always appeared when the Asura Blood-Sky Sword was used.
When only the forms of the sword techniques were mastered, madness did not occur.
But the moment the user sought to realize the form of Asura, demonic energy exploded.
This energy was so immense it filled the meridians entirely.
The problem was that it spread to the upper dantian as well.
If the demonic energy in the brain could not be controlled, the user would lose reason and become a madman.
Martial artists driven mad by demonic energy could be controlled using the sect’s sacred Blood-Demon Flute.
Cheonma Sawu was the same.
He controlled his madness better than anyone else who had learned the Asura Blood-Sky Sword, which is why he became Cheonma, but he did not have perfect control.
Thus, if he succumbed to the voices urging slaughter, he could indiscriminately kill and truly go insane.
Like the madmen of the demon sect, he could lose his will and become a bloodthirsty fiend.
To perfect the Asura Blood-Sky Sword, he had to overcome madness, and so he pursued remedies relentlessly.
He consumed all sorts of elixirs, pills, and even mystical essences, but none were particularly effective.
“…Sect leader, is your madness causing you harm?”
Baek Garim, quick-witted, immediately sensed Cheonma’s condition.
