Chapter 99 : Chapter 99
Chapter 099. Three-Extreme Sword, Jeong Tae-san (2)
How far had they traveled to the southwest?
Dam Jeok-san and Bukgung Wan arrived at a desolate wild mountain that looked as though human footsteps had long since vanished.
In places where even the traces of slash-and-burn farmers or bandits were absent, demonic creatures usually lurked.
For two people who had fought demonic beasts to the point of exhaustion throughout their lives, this was closer to common sense than speculation.
“Is it around here?”
Dam Jeok-san spoke while looking at the bleak mountain slope.
“Yes. You said your instincts were good—and it seems that wasn’t a lie.”
Bukgung Wan answered in a tone that clearly displeased him.
Surprisingly, it was Dam Jeok-san—not Bukgung Wan—who had guided them here.
Bukgung Wan had planned to use a more precise spell once they got closer to the corrupted land, but Dam Jeok-san had continuously pointed the way with unwavering confidence, leaving him no room to intervene.
And the result was undeniable success.
“Still, we should confirm it properly.”
Wooooong—
Bukgung Wan’s eyes turned a vivid blood-red.
The manifestation of the True Demon Eye, a secret art of the Ming Cult.
The power of absolute discernment tore through the darkness of the forest.
Yes.
This was the most severely corrupted land among those Bukgung Wan had been tasked to purify in the Central Plains.
And the corruption was far worse than he had originally anticipated.
“Hoh… whatever’s in there, it wouldn’t be strange.”
Bukgung Wan muttered, his eyes gleaming.
With demonic qi this dense, even a first-rate expert would struggle to endure it.
The demonic qi itself posed no problem for Bukgung Wan. He was the successor of the Ming Cult and a fully matured Ultra-Peak expert.
But if the demonic qi was this thick, then whatever anomaly or demonic entity lay within would almost certainly possess comparable strength.
And Bukgung Wan, Young Cult Leader of the Ming Cult, was intensely curious about what that might be.
Curiosity and competitiveness—emotions bordering on madness—were among his driving forces.
“Whatever it is, we just cut it down, right?”
Dam Jeok-san spoke casually while watching him.
“I like that.”
Bukgung Wan smiled in satisfaction at Dam Jeok-san’s equally belligerent attitude.
Yes. That was how it should be.
Thus, the two young men who could be said to represent the future of Murim climbed the mountainside together.
Goooo—
Thick demonic qi writhed ominously in their wake.
Its density rivaled even that of the north.
Dam Jeok-san felt his meridians tighten as powerful vitality surged through his body.
Since leaving the north, his mind had never been clearer.
It felt as though there was nothing he could not accomplish.
But—
‘Strange.’
An unexplainable chill scratched at the back of his mind.
This was different from the sensation of facing a deadly foe.
Something—or someone—inside was stimulating his instincts.
‘Well. We’ll find out soon enough.’
Dam Jeok-san thought as his hand unconsciously rested on his sword.
***
A trivial incident can alter a person’s life, and when that life runs counter to the tide of history, people call it “fate.”
In truth, fate is merely coincidence that eventually hardens into inevitability.
No fate begins as anything other than chance.
Three-Extreme Sword Jeong Tae-san happened to pass by Nameless Village.
On impulse, he drew his sword against the demonic beast there.
And as a result, Jeong Tae-san fell into the state of a specter bound to corrupted land.
Coincidence upon coincidence wove together a tragic destiny.
Even now—
Grrrraaaah!
He howled and swung his sword.
Nearly a hundred years had passed since his death and the village’s destruction.
Now, the name “Three-Extreme Sword” could likely only be found in the dusty archives of the Murim Alliance.
It seemed he would be forgotten forever.
Flash!
A chilling glint passed through Jeong Tae-san’s murky eyes.
His reason and intellect had long since rotted away.
But the instincts of a swordsman remained intact.
And sometimes, a fate believed to be frozen forever begins to move again—by chance.
For the first time since becoming a specter—
A swordsman who stirred his instincts had appeared.
‘He’s… coming…’
As a being fused with corrupted land, Jeong Tae-san possessed perception dozens of times sharper than before.
Even now, he could faintly sense the approach of the swordsman who had triggered his instincts.
The distance was still great, so details eluded him.
But one thing was certain—
‘Strong.’
Not merely high-level.
It was the lingering sharpness of a blade that had been chipped, broken, yet honed relentlessly until the very end.
Something a weak swordsman could never possess.
At the same time, there was the rough, unrestrained quality of an unfinished swordsman.
And that contradiction put Jeong Tae-san on edge.
An incomplete swordsman radiating such presence was exceedingly rare.
“Come!”
Jeong Tae-san roared.
In truth, it was nothing more than an echo of words he had once spoken while alive.
At the same time, his sword flashed in a crescent arc.
The demonic qi corrupting the world ignited like flame along its path.
As part of the corrupted land itself, the ambient demonic qi was his weapon.
“Come—let me tear you to pieces and kill you—!”
The curse-laden cry he had once hurled at the demonic beasts that slaughtered Nameless Village was now nothing but a hollow echo.
A specter with nothing but a shell remaining.
An anomaly.
And yet—
Flash!
The slash that tore through the air was sharper than it had ever been in life.
Because he had spent a hundred years doing nothing but swinging his sword—without hope, without despair.
***
The moment they entered the corrupted land—
A subtle discomfort surfaced in Dam Jeok-san’s eyes.
Until just before entering, there had been no trace of humans.
But here, signs of human habitation were everywhere.
Only—
Those signs consisted of corpses torn into dozens of pieces, pools of rotting blood, and partially eaten entrails.
“Tch.”
Bukgung Wan clicked his tongue.
Though he was no stranger to killing, this carried a different kind of revulsion.
Disgust at humans of the same species being reduced to mere food for demonic beasts.
And the helplessness of being forced to witness it.
Even without possessing any lofty sense of justice, such feelings naturally arose.
And—
“Disgusting.”
Dam Jeok-san spat the word out.
Since becoming the Martial Sovereign’s disciple, he had experienced more horrors than he could count.
Among them were memories of his previous life as Seo Woo-ju.
But the most deeply embedded memories had nothing to do with Martial Sovereign Castle or martial arts.
They were memories of his hometown being attacked by demonic beasts.
People fleeing in panic.
Their screams as they were torn apart.
Even now, closing his eyes brought that day back vividly.
And the sight of this village was no different.
Wooooong!
His twin swords resonated, emitting a sharp hum.
For a moment, Dam Jeok-san felt an overwhelming urge to cut down everything that existed here—
—but—
A chilling intuition brushed the back of his neck, snapping him back to his senses.
“There’s something here.”
Dam Jeok-san drew both swords like lightning and spoke to Bukgung Wan.
“Yes. It seems so.”
Something lurked in the pitch-black depths ahead.
It was not hiding its presence.
Rather, it was flaunting it.
Come. Come and fight me.
“A swordsman?”
Dam Jeok-san muttered, frowning.
The scent was unmistakable—dense demonic qi and blade intent sharp enough to cut flesh.
A half-demon swordsman would be the obvious assumption.
But his instincts screamed otherwise.
This felt more like the monkey demon he had encountered at the Sealed Heaven Golden Demon Forest.
A creature that should never have held a sword—yet did.
“We’ll have to see for ourselves.”
“You’re saying we go in there?”
Bukgung Wan asked.
“Is there another way?”
“No. I’ll cooperate.”
Bukgung Wan agreed readily, flicking his finger.
A chilling red will-o’-the-wisp bloomed at his fingertip.
“A flame that reveals essence.”
A condensed purification art of the Scarlet Smoke Divine Art.
Corrupted lands were inevitably filled with false illusions.
But this flame burned them away, illuminating only the truth.
As it flared, the abyssal darkness slowly receded.
And when the flame reached deep within the corrupted land—
A middle-aged man appeared.
His long hair neatly tied back.
Blood and filth stained his clothes, yet their quality was unmistakable.
The sword in his hand was likewise bloodstained—yet clearly a masterpiece.
Three-Extreme Sword, Jeong Tae-san.
A name long forgotten by the present Murim.
Neither Dam Jeok-san nor Bukgung Wan recognized him.
But—
“Come—let me tear you to pieces and kill you—!”
The man’s anguished scream was somehow deeply tragic.
And—
“He’s strong.”
Dangerously so.
“He’s a powerful swordsman.”
Whether human, half-demon, demonic beast—or something else entirely—
Dam Jeok-san could not tell.
But he was a swordsman.
That trajectory could belong to no other.
“Yes… he is.”
Bukgung Wan nodded without hesitation.
“We’ll need to defeat him to purify this land.”
With the True Demon Eye, Bukgung Wan saw him clearly.
Jeong Tae-san was the core—the nucleus—of the corruption.
And the demonic qi he carried was enormous.
So immense that Bukgung Wan could not guarantee purification even with his own power.
‘You said you had a way, Sword Dragon… but still.’
A sorcerer must always prepare for the worst.
Jeong Tae-san did not wait for their conversation to finish.
“Die—!”
The voice was no longer echoing aimlessly.
It was directed clearly at one person.
Dam Jeok-san, holding his twin swords.
Jeong Tae-san kicked off the ground and charged.
Ruuuumble!
His sprint was like thunder tearing across the earth.
Black demonic qi flared like lightning in his wake.
Then—
Three-Extreme Contracting Fang Sword
Supreme Technique
Never-Forgetting Return to Heaven
The slash he had repeated endlessly for a hundred years surged toward Dam Jeok-san.
A technique capable of slaying even peers—or stronger.
“That’s dangerous—”
Bukgung Wan began forming hand seals—
“No. You don’t do anything.”
Dam Jeok-san stopped him.
“I’ll accept it.”
He lowered both swords.
“Your life.”
And stepped forward to meet the nameless specter—
No, the swordsman.