Chapter 79
Someone seemed about to rebel, but it was just the talisman master.
Their face was full of obvious displeasure.
What if that was an act?
Then it would almost be polite to play along.
“Don’t make decisions on your own.”
The talisman master made no attempt to hide their displeasure.
It was as if they were reluctantly participating.
They had said they couldn’t unite, and it seemed what Manghwa said was true.
It wasn’t only the talisman master who was dissatisfied.
“This side feels the same.”
“I don’t like this.”
Starting with the talisman master, many began voicing their complaints.
It seemed I had misjudged the situation.
‘So there’s no separate leader, then.’
The bamboo spear wielder who had stepped forward first made no response to those complaining, as if they had said all they needed to.
I clicked my tongue lightly, observing the silent leader of the spear wielders.
“This is the only one who suffers, huh.”
Those who had failed to unite earlier now showed signs of cohesion, reacting against the spear wielder’s words.
Facing them alone was certainly not good news for me.
And that wasn’t the only bad news.
“They keep coming endlessly.”
I still couldn’t sense the energy outside the inn, but the wide-open doors made it clear.
Enemies kept pouring in.
Among them was a tyrant who shouldn’t even be here.
Even just the shell of them was incredibly heavy, yet they had been dragged here by rope.
It seemed this place would be the battleground.
I recalled what the spear wielder had said:
‘One Shijin.’
Meanwhile, more reinforcements continued to arrive.
If it was truly one Shijin, that would be more than enough to gather everyone pursuing me.
If the spear wielder’s words were a trap, it had been intended from the start.
If it wasn’t a trap… then what?
“No need to overthink it.”
If I didn’t know the answer, I could just test it.
If the proposal to me wasn’t a trap, they’d do something to uphold their own words.
Creak.
I relaxed my battle stance and plopped into a nearby chair, showing the calmness of someone confident they could handle these people easily—a kind of wide-range provocation.
“How dare you!”
Surprisingly, the first to take the bait wasn’t the talisman master.
One of those dissatisfied with the mention of Shijin lunged at me.
They threw a fierce-looking palm technique.
But I didn’t need to move.
Thwack!
Before reaching me, their body slammed into the wall.
One of the spear wielders had moved in an instant and sent them flying.
A truly overwhelming display of force.
The spectators’ eyes widened at the speed of it.
The spear wielder calmly returned to their position, as if to warn everyone.
It worked.
The inn fell silent.
No one voiced complaints or attacked further.
Only murmurs remained.
‘Who are they?’
‘Where did they even come from?’
‘Does anyone know anything?’
It seemed even the others didn’t really know the spear wielders.
It made sense—they weren’t on their side in the first place.
How do I know?
I saw it.
The one sent flying had been struck by a palm technique before the spear wielder moved—a technique with such power and speed that it was unmistakable: the Baiboshin Palm of Shaolin.
The spear wielders themselves weren’t Shaolin, but at least one had been trained there.
In fact, each of the spear wielders radiated subtly different energies.
Some were from prestigious orthodox schools, others from heretical sects.
As far as I knew, only one organization could have such a composition:
‘The Underworld.’
Simultaneously, their true identities became clear.
‘So the Underworld reapers were all here.’
The spear wielders were none other than the Underworld reapers.
Perhaps the one using Baiboshin Palm had been the force I saw earlier.
How the reapers were disguised as humans, I didn’t know.
But I wasn’t surprised.
It had been somewhat expected that the Underworld would intervene.
Now the question was, to what extent would they involve themselves in this matter?
‘If they intervene actively, it would make things easier for me.’
But that seemed unlikely.
If it were possible, then Yama wouldn’t have needed to make a deal with me in the first place.
At most, they’d just clear a path or buy time.
But then I thought:
‘If they’re going to do something, shouldn’t it be now?’
The longer I wait, the more enemies would gather.
The reapers must know that.
‘There’s definitely a scheme I don’t yet see.’
What exactly that was, I couldn’t guess.
But I did have a vague sense: I was being used as bait.
They appeared to help, but their true purpose was their own.
I didn’t mind—it meant our goals weren’t entirely opposed.
But I would settle the score if they tried to use me.
I wouldn’t just go along blindly.
‘So all I have to do now is wait.’
Even without acting, the reapers would watch over me, at least until the promised Shijin.
Their display of force worked.
No one dared throw themselves at me after that.
Only a few protested verbally, and even they soon went quiet.
“From now on, anyone dissatisfied will face the Underworld reapers.”
I had made the threat openly.
And yet, they were already confronting them.
Anyway, nothing remarkable happened while waiting for the promised Shijin.
Reinforcements slowed dramatically after half an hour before the next additions were almost nonexistent.
The reapers must have thought waiting any longer was pointless.
Just as they were about to act, something unexpected happened.
“Who dares block my path?”
A booming voice echoed.
The immense internal energy in the voice was like a weaponized technique.
Many in the crowd clutched their ears and sat down.
Even I frowned briefly.
‘Incredible internal energy.’
The strongest I’d ever encountered in this life.
But my frown wasn’t just from strength—it was the familiar unease within the energy.
It was magic energy.
In this era, possessing magic meant one thing: they belonged to the Celestial Demon Sect.
The Celestial Demon Sect—a hopelessly dangerous group.
Turning to look, I saw an old man parting the crowd and walking toward us.
His aura revealed his level without effort.
‘Transcendent, like Gongjin.’
A Celestial Demon Sect master was an enemy of all martial artists, regardless of reason.
Even being seen wandering after leaving the Ten Thousand Mountains would cause chaos.
Yet here he was, walking confidently alone—proof of his confidence.
‘So the Celestial Demon Sect is involved in this too.’
Not good news.
If they were involved, it wouldn’t be just the lone old master appearing.
Sure enough, commotion spread wherever he walked.
Monstrous red-haired figures were attacking indiscriminately.
Magic energy and red hair—one thing it meant:
“The Asura Division.”
One of the sect’s main forces.
Excluding the Celestial Demon Sect leader’s personal guard, it was among the top three units.
Each member was at least a top-tier master.
The Asura Division’s leader, Surama-gun, ranked within the top hundred of the sect.
The old master approaching must be Surama-gun.
And he looked familiar.
I realized why and muttered in admiration.
“He resembles one of the Gu-ma who attacked the Volcano Sect a hundred years ago.”
Among the Celestial Demon Sect’s nine strongest masters outside the leader, they were called Gu-ma.
They couldn’t still be alive from a century ago, so this had to be a descendant.
Realizing this, I couldn’t help but smirk.
‘So it’s not bad news, it’s good news.’
Even a subordinate from that sect would be advantageous to remove.
Could they sever the demonic bloodline that caused a century-old massacre?
Perhaps, even if just a small portion of the chaotic martial world might become peaceful.
Not easy, of course.
“Risking my life should be enough.”
Now I had only one hope.
That they hadn’t come as allies.
If they had, I couldn’t intervene today, no matter how emotional I got.
Fortunately, my worry was unfounded.
“I’ll handle those inside the inn. Surama Division, leave none of those gathered alive. That is the order of the Sect Leader.”
Surama-gun stopped in front of the inn and shouted to his division.
I chuckled at the absurdity of my own worry.
Martial world peace?
If they sought that, would they be called a demon sect, and their members called demons?
The reason for their presence was clear:
‘They intend to shake the martial world by obtaining the little sword.’
They wouldn’t care about chaos, but they came for one reason.
And I was right.
“You valuable people seem all gathered here. Greetings. I am the old man called Surama-gun of the Celestial Demon Sect. I won’t speak long. I know about the child, the little sword, so hand it over.”
His bold declaration made some hesitate.
Few could withstand Surama-gun’s presence.
And the name Celestial Demon Sect alone instilled fear.
“Th-that one’s hiding the child!”
Someone quickly betrayed me.
I turned: it was the talisman master.
The one who had been brash earlier was now the first to back down.
Surama-gun glanced between us, then nodded in satisfaction.
“Then for now, only these two shall live.”
With that arrogant voice, Surama-gun moved.
