Chapter 93: Chapter 93

Chapter 93: Strengthened Advancement (3)

Despite the furious shouts, the movements that followed were cold and precise.

They were the elite martial artists of the Dark Spirit Sect.

The fact that they were all rushing out in force meant only one thing—no matter what, they intended to kill Gugwi.

Their black garments rippled through the darkness like waves.

“These bastards… they just keep coming!”

Jang Unhyeok muttered as he crossed his Twin Blades.

Thick sweat streamed down from his forehead to his chin. His wrists ached, and blisters had formed on his palms from gripping his sword too tightly.

“We need to get out. There’s no chance of winning .”

Yeon Sohye spoke urgently.

“Of course I want to escape. But how? Ha!”

Jang Unhyeok laughed.

Yeon Sohye forcibly awakened So Ryeonghwa to its extreme. She expanded the reach of the Silver Spirit Illusion as much as she could. The most update n0vels are published on n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net

A swirl of silver mist spun around her.

A faint passage appeared in the air.

As the mist brushed along the walls, hidden gaps began to reveal themselves one by one.

Even among walls built by humans and masses gathered together, there were always openings.

She pointed into the darkness with a bloodstained finger.

Where the mist seeped in, there was a narrow gap—just enough for one person to pass through.

But the remnants of the Dark Spirit Sect blocked their way.

Dozens of elite martial artists filled the cave, exuding black sword qi. The Dark Spirit Sword Technique’s black aura writhed like serpents as it lunged toward the group.

With a ripping sound, black streaks crossed from every direction.

Jang Unhyeok groaned.

Gugwi urged the group forward, expanding the Spiritless Zone.

Blue light clashed violently with the black energy, releasing bursts of white sparks. Lightning crackled where the two forces met, and each strike sent enemies sprawling.

But there were too many of them. The power of the Spirit Flow Core was draining rapidly—like a drying riverbed.

Blood trickled from Gugwi’s mouth.

The side effects of overload worsened. The core inside his chest quivered irregularly, sending jolts of pain through his body.

“Slow down! I’ll open the path!”

Yeon Sohye carved a way out with her Silver Spirit Illusion.

The silver mist pierced through the crowd, unveiling hidden pockets of space. Between clusters of enemies—between person and person—a cold breeze seeped through.

The group dashed toward the opening.

Their footsteps thundered against the stone floor.

But at that moment, one of the Dark Spirit Sect remnants ambushed Yeon Sohye from behind. He had realized that whenever she focused on her illusion art, her back was exposed.

An arrow pierced deep into Yeon Sohye’s back.

Flesh tore, bone was exposed, and crimson blood spurted like a fountain, splattering across the floor.

Yeon Sohye gritted her teeth and pressed forward. Her steps staggered drunkenly, but she didn’t stop.

“I’m fine! Keep going!”

Blood streamed down her arm to her fingertips.

Red drops marked their trail across the ground.

“That’s enough! I’ll clear the way—stay right behind me!”

Jang Unhyeok unleashed Harmony of Flame and Wind.

A vortex of fire swept through the Dark Spirit Sect martial artists. The stench of burning flesh and charred clothes filled the air. Jin Geonmu swung his spear behind them, holding off the pursuers; the spear tip sliced the air with a sharp whistle.

But it wasn’t long before they were surrounded again.

The Dark Spirit Sect remnants surged in from all sides like a tidal wave—a sheer numbers tactic.

No matter how skilled a master was, facing dozens at once had its limits. One hand could never fend off ten. Black garments fluttered in the wind as they encircled them completely.

Cracks ran along Jang Unhyeok’s Twin Blades from the relentless impact. The blade creaked ominously.

Jin Geonmu’s spear tip had broken in half, slick with blood.

“There’s no way out!”

Yeon Sohye wiped the blood dripping from her shoulder with the back of her hand. Her face had grown pale.

Gugwi glanced around.

‘We’re surrounded on all sides.’

No matter where he looked, there were only martial artists in black robes, their eyes gleaming with murderous red light.

‘At this rate… we’ll all die.’

With that grim realization, Gugwi made his decision.

A laugh escaped him as something scorching surged from within his chest.

He drew out the power of the Spirit Flow Core even further. The blue light that spread outward—

headed toward the altar.

The massive altar they had seen when first entering the cave.

The altar where the most people had perished.

Wails of spirits erupted from the altar. Resentment buried deep in the earth burst forth.

Gugwi began absorbing the power of the altar.

Blue light swirled within his chest like a storm. Power coursed through his veins, setting his entire body ablaze.

The stirring presence of the Manifest Demon Emperor grew stronger.

Beyond the Realm of the Threshold, he could feel a colossal form twisting—as if a dragon on the verge of waking. A dangerous aura seeped through. The Manifest Demon Emperor… was rising.

But there was no other path now.

‘Still, I can’t die here!’

In that instant, immense power erupted from Gugwi’s body.

The strength absorbed through the altar was overwhelming. It coursed through him like molten lava, swelling his muscles and hardening his bones. It felt as though he could crush iron with his bare hands.

‘This much should be enough…’

He stretched his hand toward the altar that had been feeding him power.

The black altar became wrapped in blue light. The air quivered, sparking with electricity—

A massive explosion erupted.

The altar shattered into countless fragments as a pillar of light surged into the sky. The ground split apart, and rocks tumbled down in a storm of debris.

A wave of exhilaration enveloped Gugwi—

the thrill of having destroyed the altar.

It felt refreshing, as though a massive poison had been drawn out from his veins. Every cell in his body seemed to rejoice.

“You… will awaken me.”

The whisper of the Manifest Demon Emperor echoed again.

This time, it was clearer—stronger. The voice seeped deep into Gugwi’s bones.

For an instant, his body stiffened. A cold chill ran down his spine. Yet, he could not stop now.

He charged at the remnants of the Dark Spirit Sect with his newly gained power.

His figure flowed like the wind. The Spirit Flow Core fortified his muscles and bones, granting him speed and strength beyond human limits. Each step sent tremors through the earth.

The first martial artist’s neck snapped in his hand.

With a grotesque sound, the man’s head bent at an unnatural angle. Warm blood splattered across Gugwi’s palm.

Another martial artist swung his sword.

Gugwi’s palm slammed into the man’s chest. The crunch of breaking ribs echoed as the body flew backward, smashing against the wall and scattering stone dust.

When another thrust his sword from the side, Gugwi spun and seized his arm—then twisted upward. The shoulder dislocated with a scream.

The fourth. The fifth.

The martial artists around Gugwi collapsed one after another.

His movements were as fluid as water, yet as swift as lightning. Each motion subdued two foes at once.

A man stabbed from behind.

Gugwi tilted slightly aside, dodging the blade, and struck his throat with an elbow.

At that moment, another attacker lunged with Twin Blades. Gugwi moved like lightning, seizing the man’s wrists.

The twisted wrists dropped their weapons. The martial artist fell to his knees.

Gugwi’s front kick struck his jaw upward—crack! Then his descending heel smashed down again—crack! The man’s face caved in completely.

The Spirit Flow Core repelled their souls. The Spiritless Zone expanded, weakening the spirits bound within the Dark Spirit Sect martial artists. Their movements dulled, their strength faded.

At the same time, Gugwi summoned Un Serim and General Madal.

The two spirits appeared at his sides, sweeping their spears.

Un Serim’s spear pierced through a man’s abdomen, bursting from his back as blood gushed forth.

The man vomited blood and collapsed.

General Madal’s blade sliced another man’s torso clean in half. The sword entered through his chest and exited at his side, the body rolling to the ground in two pieces.

Blood sprayed from the severed halves.

The Dark Spirit Sword Technique began to crumble.

His steps were like a dance, his handwork like art—

an art painted in death.

A man tried to ambush him from behind. Gugwi turned, seized his neck, and squeezed. The bones shattered under his grip; the man’s eyes rolled back, his tongue lolling out.

Another swung a massive axe.

Gugwi ducked, hooked his leg, and as the man fell— crushed his skull beneath his heel. The wet crunch echoed as blood spattered everywhere.

Three more attackers charged at once.

Gugwi leapt into the air, spinning as both feet lashed out. The kicks sent the three men flying, smashing into the cave walls in bursts of blood.

Gugwi’s clothes were soaked in red, but none of it was his. Blood speckled his face like crimson raindrops.

One martial artist screamed and stumbled back, his legs trembling.

To Gugwi, it was a meaningless word. A man who used the Spirit Flow Core to kill had no right to be called anything else. Of course he was a monster—anyone who wielded Spirit Union Martial Arts was one.

His attack moved faster than a galloping horse.

One martial artist sprinted along the cave wall.

Gugwi pushed off the ground and leapt up as well, seizing the man’s ankle midair.

The captive screamed as he crashed down.

The long sword in the hand of the Dark Spirit Sect’s leader trembled violently.

Only one man rampaged through their ranks— a tiger among a flock of sheep.

No one could stop Gugwi. At this moment, not a single being could stand against him.

The leader clenched his teeth and gave the order.

Even the strongest opponent had weaknesses. They were losing only because they hadn’t found his yet. Once they did, they would strike again. For now, it was enough to know who possessed the Spirit Flow Core.

At his command, the martial artists of the Dark Spirit Sect withdrew at once. But more than half of them had already perished by Gugwi’s hand.

Gugwi panted heavily as he scanned his surroundings.

Dozens of corpses were strewn across the ground. Blood flowed like a stream, pooling into crimson puddles.

His hands were drenched in it.

Though it was his enemies’ blood, it somehow felt like his own. Sticky liquid slid between his fingers.

Yeon Sohye ran to support him.

Jang Unhyeok and Jin Geonmu, their bodies wounded, approached as well. Awe flickered across their faces.

Yeon Sohye’s voice trembled.

“I’m fine… We can leave now.”

Gugwi wiped the blood from his hand as he replied, though an odd light lingered in his eyes.

The group exited the cave.

Outside, dawn had already broken. The eastern sky was painted in red. Cold wind brushed against their wounds.

They left the mountain range and found a new hiding place.

It was a small cave, but enough to conceal them. The faint sound of flowing water hinted at a nearby stream.

The vibration of the Spirit Flow Core in Gugwi’s chest grew stronger. He could feel it— the Manifest Demon Emperor’s resurrection was drawing near. The blue light flickered irregularly, as if sending him a warning.

Gugwi stood at the cave’s entrance, gazing at the sky. One by one, the stars faded.

“The real battle begins now.”

Weariness colored his tone.

This was not a fight against the Heavenly Sound Cult or the Dark Spirit Sect. It was not a struggle involving Yeon Sohye, Jang Unhyeok, or Jin Geonmu. It was his battle alone.

A fight between the Manifest Demon Emperor, who sought resurrection— and Gugwi, who had to stop him.

Between them lay the Spirit Flow Core.

Determination flared in Gugwi’s eyes.

The blue light within his chest pulsed gently, emanating the stillness before a storm. Yet, unease seeped in—the whisper of the Manifest Demon Emperor still echoed in his ears.

‘You will awaken me.’

The words felt prophetic.

Each time he shattered an altar or used the Spirit Flow Core, the Manifest Demon Emperor stirred a little more.

Could he truly stop it? Or would he, in the end, be the one to bring about its return?

Gugwi clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms, drawing blood.

The real battle was just beginning.