Monochrome Sovereign [EN]: Chapter 977

Thud!

Moyong Gun’s forehead veins bulged.

Swish!

Three streams of force were completely shattered before the dazzlingly slashing sword.

The Tangma Divine Sword was a military sword, longer and thicker than most broadswords. Naturally, it was heavier, but it was also incredibly sturdy. A masterpiece crafted with great care by a master smith, its blade had never been damaged.

Halfway to being a divine weapon, his sword, combined with his genius, experience, rigorous training, and powerful confidence, emitted a terrifying divine force.

Splat!

The body of one of the evil monks was split in half by the straight thrust of the sword.

“Kill him!”

“That’s the leader!”

Moyong Gun’s eyes blazed.

The three experts rushing from the front and both sides were subordinates Na Gak-Roe had brought.

Their martial prowess was clearly inferior to the commanders of these five hundred troops, but their teamwork was exceptional. Even without positional advantages or amazing coordinated attacks, the true energy of their practiced divine skills enabled them to launch optimal attacks.

Blue sword light surged from Moyong Gun’s sword like a wave.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Explosions erupted.

He shattered the force unleashed by the three men working as one with his sword energy.

It was a simple yet absolute strike that pierced the gaps in their combined attack. With that single attack, the true energy connecting the three men was severed.

It didn’t end there.

Moyong Gun, who had already dismounted, stepped forward, and brought the Tangma Sword down on the left monk’s head.

Instantly, two men launched powerful punches to help.

Flash!

He twisted the path of his descending sword like flowing water, shifting the trajectory and striking upwards diagonally from the lower to the upper.

The two monks’ forearms were severed by that smooth strike. It was an unbelievable sight, as if the two monks had simply placed their arms against a sharp, well-honed sword.

The remaining monk rushed in, startled, but Moyong Gun’s hand was already reaching for his neck.

Crack!

He twisted and broke it.

It was a simple yet extremely effective move if one had sufficient strength.

As the experts with severed forearms paled and hesitated, Moyong Gun unleashed the ultimate techniques of the Qiankun Baiba Jianjie (Universe Hundred and Eight Sword Dissections), the Tiandijian Shuangtoulong (Twin Dragons Between Heaven and Earth).

The two streaks of sword light that fell like lightning took the lives of the remaining two monks.

He had killed three experts in just a few exchanges. They were all individuals who would be considered top-tier experts anywhere in the Central Plains.

While he had been able to achieve victory against three top-tier experts before, he had never been able to end the fight so easily and decisively.

It was a noticeable growth, but Moyong Gun did not rejoice in his progress. He was not in a situation to even consider such thoughts.

No sooner had he cut down the three experts than more rushed in. Each wielded a staff or a monk’s blade, and the blades at the end of the staffs and the monk’s blades were, contrary to their names, hard and sharp.

Moyong Gun’s body spun amidst the downpour of weapons.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Swish! Thud!

He deflected all the weapons and split the bodies of four men.

Moyong Gun glanced back.

One of the iron caltrops that had shot from Dang Sang-Ah’s delicate hand had pierced the neck of a monk who was trying to stab Moyong Gun in the back with his monk’s blade.

Whoosh!

Dang Sang-Ah’s movement technique was truly outstanding.

It was like the wind itself. It felt like she had the infinite freedom to go anywhere.

The Dang family’s best movement technique, the Churae Shinbeop (Lightning Chasing Divine Method), had the disadvantage of consuming more internal energy than other movement techniques, but it also had the advantage of being extremely effective in securing positions due to its overwhelming speed.

However, for the direct descendants of the Dang family, who cultivated resistance by using numerous poisons and even increased their internal energy, the high consumption of internal energy was not a significant drawback.

Dang Sang-Ah was the daughter of the current family head, Dang Gwan, and a prodigy who had been personally trained by the previous family head, the Dark King. She was second to none in terms of skill and internal energy.

Flash! Flash!

Like its name, which meant chasing lightning, Dang Sang-Ah’s movements were incredibly fast.

But strangely, they felt smooth. She was as fast as lightning, but she resembled the wind, not lightning.

The killing techniques Dang Sang-Ah drew from that wind-lightning movement were vicious, despite her elegant movements.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Reddish daggers pierced and exited the monks’ necks.

Fast, venomous, and deadly. The monks who were struck by Dang Sang-Ah staggered, clutching their necks, before collapsing.

While the result of death would not change, they could have endured a little longer with their internal energy, but they died instantly. It was because of the potent internal energy contained in the daggers.

She had directly inherited the Emperor Poison Art from Dang Gwan and had broken through the realm of Bungjeungseungje, which corresponded to the pinnacle of martial arts. [Bungjeungseungje is a martial arts realm where one’s internal energy is so refined that it can be used to create poison].

Her internal energy could turn into a deadly poison whenever she wished. The poison contained in the Dang family’s treasure, the Yeomwangbi (King Yama Dagger), was enough to bring down an enemy with a single strike.

Swoosh! Thud! Thwack! Thud!

Fast and smooth.

Dang Sang-Ah’s movements, as she weaved through the monks like a loach, gracefully slashing their necks, chests, armpits, and femoral arteries, were like a dance.

A dance of death. With each graze, a life was extinguished.

She killed over a dozen monks in an instant, and before their bodies could even collapse, she killed another dozen.

It was a divine speed and an overwhelming killing technique.

The killing technique of Dang Sang-Ah, who had combined the Dang family’s strongest poison art, the Emperor Poison Art, and the Sabimussangse (Peerless Dagger of Death), which she had also inherited from Dang Gwan, with the Churae Shinbeop, and had recreated it into her own martial art, was at the forefront of this battle.

‘It’s working.’

The movements of the daggers themselves, whether she gripped them in reverse to slash or stab, or used the movements of her long fingers to transform them into precise strikes, were like a small dance.

Dance and dance. It was as if flowing clothes were draped around her body.

‘It’s complete.’

The Rakshasa Dyed Death Garment.

She went behind a monk, wrapped her left arm around his neck, and stabbed his side like lightning with the dagger in her right hand.

One strike was enough. She immediately released the monk’s neck, kicked him to disrupt the formation, and then spun gracefully, slashing the throats of two approaching monks.

It was the dance of a Rakshasa [a demon in Hindu and Buddhist mythology], the blade of a demon clad in clothes dyed with death.

She did not overwhelm her enemies with flashy energy techniques or overwhelming force.

It was a martial art that pushed the potential of the dagger to its limits. While the Sabimussangse itself was a peerless martial art, the Rakshasa Dyed Death Garment, which she had modified to suit herself, had transformed into an invincible martial path in Dang Sang-Ah’s hands.

“Amazing?!”

Wham!

Pang Dae-Ho, who had blown away three monks with a single, brutal strike, exclaimed with a playful voice.

“You weren’t showing your true skills in the previous battles!”

Thud! Splat!

Dang Sang-Ah, who had stomped on a foot and then slashed an abdomen horizontally, said calmly.

“I couldn’t show my true skills. You’ve been using me as an intelligence agent until now, haven’t you?”

“If Jeagal, the younger brother, saw Dang, the older sister, now, he would probably want to gouge out his own eyes!”

It was then.

Boom!

With a dazzling explosion, Jeagal Jun appeared.

“That’s correct.”

Jeagal Jun’s martial arts, which deflected the monks’ staffs with the Socheon Seongjangbeop (Small Heaven Growth Method) and crushed their entire sternums with the Daecheon Seongjangbeop (Great Heaven Growth Method), were also as powerful and aggressive as anyone else’s.

“I knew that older sister was strong, but I didn’t know it was to this extent. You’re even more impressive than Moyong, the older brother?”

“That can’t be.”

Dang Sang-Ah glanced at Moyong Gun.

Moyong Gun, wielding the Tangma Divine Sword with a cold expression.

He, who had been moving somewhat passively to protect his allies, was now beginning to show his true colors.

Whoosh! Thwack! Thwack!

It was a powerful and majestic swordsmanship.

Each time the Tangma Sword, imbued with bluish sword energy, was swung, the enemies in front of it lost their limbs and fell. Many were crushed by the overwhelming sword pressure, their bones shattered.

While Dang Sang-Ah’s martial arts were fast, deadly, and elegant, Moyong Gun’s martial arts were powerful, majestic, and stylish.

It was as if a divine general and a celestial maiden had joined hands to defeat the enemy forces. Pang Dae-Ho, Jeagal Jun, and Namgoong Pyo’s martial arts were also impressive, but they were not as striking as the two who were displaying such overwhelming martial arts.

“Enough with the chatter!”

Flash!

With a streak of blue sword light, the bodies of two monks were split apart.

Namgoong Pyo revealed himself.

“Enjoy such leisure after the battle is over!”

His face was serious as he cut down enemies with the Sword of Azure Sky.

Not all of the Murim Alliance troops were as skilled as they were. This was not a battle of a few individuals, but a group battle where troops clashed against troops.

Namgoong Pyo did not flaunt his martial arts as if to show off. While jealousy towards those who seemed superior to him was inevitable, he did not forget what he had to do.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Thud!

He deflected the monks’ staffs and monk’s blades, cut down an enemy at the center, and retreated.

He had created a moment of respite for the Murim Alliance allies who had become incapacitated. Surprisingly, Namgoong Pyo was fighting not to gain merit, but to maintain the strength of his troops.

Everyone was like that.

Each of them was clearly doing what they were assigned to do, what they had to do.

Dang Sang-Ah shouted.

“The path is open! We’re going to capture the left commander!”

Whoosh!

She leaped up like lightning, stepped on the shoulders of the monks as she sprinted, and then swung the Yeomwangbi towards a middle-aged monk with two prayer beads around his neck.

He was one of the supreme experts commanding the five hundred troops. The reason they had broken deep into the enemy lines was to capture the enemy commanders.

The eyes of the middle-aged monk, the Blood Sound Arhat, gleamed with a sinister light.

“That damned wench!”

Clang!

The Yeomwangbi and the monk’s blade collided, spitting out blue sparks.

For the first time, the Yeomwangbi was blocked. Furthermore, she felt a throbbing in her wrist from the enemy’s force.

Dang Sang-Ah was not flustered.

There were many strong people in the world. And she had attacked, thinking that the enemy commander was not inferior to her. This level of impact was expected.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

The sleeves of the Blood Sound Arhat were torn to shreds by the Yeomwangbi as it spun and slashed.

If he had been a little slower in drawing his blade, his forearm would have been in tatters. The Blood Sound Arhat’s expression changed.

Wham!

As Dang Sang-Ah reached the Blood Sound Arhat, Ogu-Mun, who had been fighting alone in the distance, was also swinging his master’s beloved weapon, the Chamakdo (Mountain Cleaving Blade), towards the Blood Mark Arhat, the commander in the same position.

Clang!

Ogu-Mun’s single strike had the weight of ten thousand pounds.

While Pang Dae-Ho’s swordsmanship was strong and fast, it contained countless variations, while Ogu-Mun’s blade was excessively simple but contained brutal aggression. It was a swordsmanship that was much more suitable for the battlefield than for a martial arts demonstration.

The Blood Mark Arhat shouted.

“Blood Hand! We must stop this one first!”

“Shut up!”

Ogu-Mun spun, deflected the Blood Mark Arhat’s force, and then swung his blade diagonally.

Clang! Swoosh!

It was a fist as hard as steel.

It did not break even after being struck by the Chamakdo. However, a deep wound was left in the middle of the fist.

Ogu-Mun was surprised, and so was the Blood Mark Arhat.

Ogu-Mun was the first to regain his senses.

A faster mindset immediately determined the outcome.

‘One strike.’

The simple and brutal technique of the Chamhon Gyodo (Soul Cutting Blade), One Strike.

Flash!

The Blood Mark Arhat’s left arm and left leg were completely severed.

Thud!

Ogu-Mun, who had kicked the halved body, shouted.

“Who’s next!”