Chapter 289 : Islam (3)
Chapter 289: Islam (3)
Il-mok was already on his feet before anyone could blink, the Ascension Sword gripped firmly in his hand, a smile that dripped with killing intent playing across his lips.
The complex sequence of rising from a cross-legged position while simultaneously drawing his blade flowed with supernatural grace.
Anytime, anywhere, the sword must be ready.
That was the first principle of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword, the essence of the Soul-Departing Sword technique. It had become second nature to Il-mok, ingrained in his very bones.
Slash!
And then came the delayed sound of the strike.
The heads of the dancing women who had been performing a bizarre dance that twisted the flow of energy around them flew off from their shoulders. The moment they fell, the twisted energy in the room began to stabilize.
After shattering the Formation in a single stroke, Il-mok shouted out a warning.
"Cover your noses and mouths!"
The smoke that had been wafting through the air since the dancers began their performance was laced with poison.
Well, to be precise, the smoke itself wasn't the poison.
Rather, the moment someone inhaled that smoke, it reacted with certain ingredients in the food they'd eaten and transformed into something deadly.
That’s why nobody noticed anything weird when they started eating.
Unfortunately, Il-mok possessed a talent that the Heavenly Demon himself had coveted since their first meeting. And that talent lies in his inhuman qi perception. It had picked up on the subtle distortions in the energy flow the moment those dancers started moving.
Because he had remained on high alert, he immediately realized the poison was spreading through his body the instant he inhaled the smoke.
Which meant...
"Ugh."
Those whose qi perception wasn't as developed as Il-mok's had no choice but to fall victim to the poison.
"Force the poison out with your internal energy! Those who are seriously affected, start circulating your internal energy immediately! Everyone else, protect your comrades!"
Il-mok barked out rapid-fire commands while simultaneously whipping his Ascension Sword through the air like a madman, generating a fierce sword wind.
Whoooosh!
The gale he'd created tore through the massive banquet hall, gathering up the dispersing smoke and driving it all toward one spot.
"You bastard!!"
Was it because the dancers' heads had been severed? Or because their trap had been exposed?
When Bazakh Rahman let out a furious roar. Every man in the banquet hall sprang to their feet in unison, weapons drawn and ready.
Come to think of it, didn’t Bazakh mention that his wife was among the dancers?
Maybe seeing his wife's head roll right before his eyes had driven him mad, but...
'Then you shouldn't have sent your wife to do this kind of work in the first place.'
You must be one hell of a motherfucker to use your own wife as a honey trap and a Formation core.
As the Muslims charged forward with their weapons raised, a drop of black liquid fell from Il-mok’s left fingertip.
He'd hastily circulated his internal energy and forcefully gathered the poison in his body into one spot before forcing it out.
Crunch.
Jin Hayeon had already bitten down on her own right index finger with those white teeth of hers. Black liquid oozed from where she'd torn the skin and frozen solid the moment it emerged.
But Ju Seo-yeon and Jeong Hyeon's reactions had been a beat too slow. They'd assumed cross-legged positions and hastily began to circulate their internal energy.
The Black Tiger Corps members weren't faring much better.
Only Ouyang Hyeok, the Vice Leader, the Squad Leaders, and a handful of more experienced members had managed to ready themselves for combat. Nearly thirty others had dropped into meditation and were frantically working to purge the poison from their systems.
A mere dozen or so fighters have to protect nearly thirty incapacitated allies while fending off enemies.
But...
Slash!
The only ones hitting the floor were the Muslims.
And it’s an obvious outcome.
The people who managed to react to the ambush were the elites of the group after all.
Each time Ouyang Hyeok swung his saber at blistering speed, limbs and heads went flying.
Slash!
"Aaaargh!!"
Whenever Jin Hayeon moved, everything in her immediate vicinity froze solid, giving the Muslims the taste of frostbite they'd never felt in their lives.
But the one racking up the highest body count was Il-mok himself.
Sword Qi would burst out from his Ascension Sword whenever he swung and spread to all directions.
It’s the Heavenly Net Sword.
True to the name, not a single foe could slip through Il-mok's Heavenly Net Sword alive.
While those three led the charge, cutting down the Muslims left and right, the remaining Black Tiger Corps members shielded their recovering comrades and blocked the enemies' attacks.
In just the blink of an eye, the majority of the Muslims in the banquet hall had been wiped out.
Then—
BOOM!!!
The massive doors of the banquet hall exploded with a thunderous crash, and dozens more Muslims came pouring through.
"Kill these infidels!!!"
"Allahu Akbar!!"
With that familiar battle cry, fireballs came from all directions.
"These fucking lunatics."
Setting off fireworks indoors? These fuckers definitely lost their minds.
That's when a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"I will handle this."
Jin Hayeon launched herself toward the rear. Both of her hands were crackling with freezing Yin energy as she swatted down and extinguished the hail of fireballs coming their way.
While Jin Hayeon and several Black Tiger Corps members formed a defensive line to protect their allies,
Slash!
Ouyang Hyeok and Il-mok cut down anyone who stood between them and carved a bloody path toward the seat of honor.
That's when the Family Head panicked. He pointed at Jeong Hyeon and Ju Seo-yeon, who were still sitting helplessly on the floor.
"Get those bitches! They're the leader's women!"
Il-mok couldn't understand the words, but the pointing finger made the meaning crystal clear.
"Picking all the scummiest moves, aren't you?"
Il-mok suppressed a curse and swung his sword, shattering a bodyguard's scimitar like glass. He was about to strike again when Bazakh Rahman started chanting something weird. The energy in the room twisted, and the floor suddenly turned into a swamp, grabbing hold of Il-mok’s feet.
Il-mok used his lightness skill to escape the swamp and launch a burst of Sword Qi through the air.
Clang!
Crunch.
Some unfortunate soul lost a body part to Il-mok's attack and screamed. Another barely managed to block the Sword Qi.
After chanting another incantation, Bazakh Rahman pursed his lips as if to blow a kiss and flames erupted from his mouth.
This Family Head seems to be too skillful with sorcery.
'Did he teach those dancers that weird Formation too?’
That weird dance Formation was probably his doing or some secret arts that have been passed down through the Rahman Family.
While Il-mok and Ouyang Hyeok engaged with Bazakh Rahman's sorcery and his guards, a fierce battle was raging at the rear.
The warriors staying back at the rear are busy fending off the Muslims' constant attacks.
The enemies aren’t stupid. They realized those at the rear are sitting ducks and tried to pick them off every chance they got.
Bang!
To make matters worse, the Muslims kept launching arrows and firing off sorceries while maintaining their distance.
Jin Hayeon and the Black Tiger Corps members found themselves gradually being pushed back.
But then, one by one, those who'd successfully purged the poison began rising to their feet.
Jeong Hyeon was among the first to recover.
Given the chaotic battlefield erupting with shouts from all directions, the kind of environment where someone might fall into Qi Deviation instead of successfully purging poison, it was remarkable that Jeong Hyeon managed to stabilize so quickly.
Part of this was due to her daily exposure to thousands of spectators back in Pingliang County.
"Allahu Akbar!"
Another part was that the battle cry had become oddly familiar to her.
The moment Jeong Hyeon finished purging the poison, she raised her bow without hesitation.
She knew exactly what needed to be done first.
Twang!
The instant she released the bowstring, a crisp sound of air splitting apart rang out.
Her arrow threaded through the gap between allies and enemies, piercing straight through the forehead of a sorcerer chanting in the back of the enemies’ formation.
It was just like the old days at the Hall of the Demonic Way, when those religious fanatics had ambushed her and her friends.
With Jeong Hyeon's suppressing fire preventing the sorcerers from casting spells freely, the Black Tiger Corps's defensive line stabilized.
And as more of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s warriors finished purging their poison, the tide of battle reversed completely.
"Kill them!"
"Don't let a single one of these cowardly cultists live!"
While enraged fanatics of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult slaughtered the Muslims, Il-mok and Ouyang Hyeok now stood right before Bazakh Rahman.
"S-spare me and I'll give you all my wives! And my gold and treasures as well—"
"What the hell is he even saying?"
Il-mok couldn’t understand a single word of what Bazakh had been saying; he simply clicked his tongue and swung his Ascension Sword.
***
After dealing with Bazakh Rahman, Il-mok and the recovered Black Tiger Corps members started fighting their way out.
Slash!
"Gyaaaah!"
Explosions and screams, the sound of steel cutting flesh, and cries calling out to God echoed from every direction.
CRASH!!
Il-mok finally smashed through the wall of the massive mansion and emerged from the Rahman estate.
"Tch."
He clicked his tongue at the scene before him.
As expected of a family that ruled the city, soldiers were already swarming around the mansion. But it wasn't their momentum that made him click his tongue.
"So much for trade with the Western Regions."
It was simply out of a mild disappointment at failing his mission.
Shing.
Just as Il-mok raised the Ascension Sword to unleash another round of Heavenly Net Sword at the soldiers blocking their path—
"Make way!"
Someone shouted from behind the army, and the soldiers parted like the sea.
An old man walked through the ranks and started babbling in that strange language again.
Il-mok kept his sword leveled forward and shouted over his shoulder.
"Ohalak!"
A moment later, Ohalak came to the front with a face as pale as a ghost but otherwise unharmed thanks to the protection of the Demonic Cult warriors.
Whether he'd gone white from seeing the corpses scattered everywhere or from the countless soldiers surrounding the estate was anyone's guess.
"Translate."
At Il-mok's command, Ohalak addressed the old man, who responded.
"He says his name is Muhammad, Head of the Majid family. He wants you to lower your sword and talk."
After Ohalak translated the old man's words, Il-mok swept his gaze across the soldiers blocking every direction, then pointed the Ascension Sword back at the estate behind him.
"A conversation? We just killed the Head of the Rahman family, the one who supposedly rules this Samarkand place. You think conversation's still an option?"
When Ohalak translated Il-mok's response, the old man shook his head.
"There seems to be a misunderstanding. Samarkand is governed by a council. The Rahman Family simply happened to have the most council members. And thanks to you folks, it looks like the Majid family will now hold that distinction."
"Oh?"
Il-mok's expression turned into interest as he caught on to how things were unfolding.
"Therefore, as someone who represented Samarkand, I ask of you, why did you attack the Rahman Family?"
"You've got the sequence backwards. We didn't attack them; they attacked us. We simply fought back."
That's when someone watching the translated exchange suddenly interrupted.
"What do you think you're doing?! I know you hated the Rahmans, but how can you side with these infidels?"
Il-mok glanced at Ohalak who quickly provided a rough translation.
"Rahman Family. Majid Family. Muslims. Helping infidels is bad."
Muhammad Majid immediately fired back at the man.
"Are you really so blind that you cannot see how Bazakh Rahman's greed nearly cost us Samarkand's chance to reclaim our former glory?!"
It was a thunderous rebuke, far more vigorous than his earlier tone with Il-mok that’s completely at odds with his age.
"These people are guests from the East! Our tradition demands we treat guests with respect, but Bazakh Rahman attacked them!"
Muhammad Majid wasn't just addressing the man who'd challenged him; he was meeting the eyes of every soldier surrounding them, delivering his words like a lesson meant for all.
"Furthermore, if these people continue to visit us in the future, Samarkand could be a hub for travelers again, just like two hundred years ago! Everyone in this city will prosper! But Bazakh Rahman only wanted to line his own pockets, so he attacked them to steal their goods!!"
Ohalak translated Muhammad Majid's speech as best he could. The translation was rough around the edges, but Il-mok got the gist of it and broke into a wide smile.
Finally, he had found the most important thing in business.
Someone he could actually do business with.