Chapter 306: The Grasslands (6)
"Stay here with Miss Jeong and hold this position!"
After barking orders to the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's martial artists, Il-mok exchanged a glance with Jin Hayeon and Ju Seo-yeon before launching himself straight at the enemy.
What a bunch of idiots.
They were so worried about his group running away that they had spread out into a massive ring. Because of that, their leader was left practically wide open with barely any guards around him.
"Kill them!!"
When the Mangud tribe's Khagan scread at Il-mok's charge, the warriors forming the circle began their assault on the Jarchigud settlent.
But in the blink of an eye...
Slash!
A guard who'd stepped forward to protect the chieftain had his throat severed in a single stroke.
He wasn't the last.
Slash!
Not a single warrior near the Mangud Khagan managed to block even one swing from the masked man's sword.
"!?"
By the ti the Mangud Khagan's expression shifted to shock, Il-mok had already cut down every obstacle in his path with just four swings and closed the distance.
Watching the masked man bear down on him with terrifying speed, the Mangud Khagan desperately swung his greatsaber.
The Mangud Khagan was clearly a master in his own right. Force Qi rippled along his blade, but...
"Gkh!"
After a single exchange, the Khagan clenched his teeth and swallowed back the blood threatening to surge up his throat.
He had suffered internal injuries after just one clash.
'Th-this can't be! A warrior stronger than !?'
While the Mangud Khagan was busy denying reality, the masked man kept the pressure on. Instead of dropping back to the ground after their mid-air clash, he literally stepped on thin air and swung again at the Khagan.
Stunned by the impossible sight, the Khagan barely managed to block the second strike but got knocked right off his horse anyway.
'How...'
The Mangud Khagan couldn't collect his thoughts.
And far too late, he realized his greatest mistake.
The Spirit Beast, his tribe had spent days hunting through attrition…
He'd overlooked the obvious fact that a strange creature capable of killing such a creature would never be an easy opponent.
His desperation to break through his wall and return to their holand, compounded by the fury of having the inner core stolen, had clouded his judgnt entirely.
But that realization ca far too late.
Clang!
The Khagan's greatsaber shattered with a clear ring as it t the masked man's sword once more.
Crackle!
A sword wreathed in lightning-shaped Sword Force plunged toward his heart.
CRUNCH!
Wrapping up the boss fight in just a few quick moves, Il-mok nodded in satisfaction with the Ascension Sword still buried in the man's chest.
'Just as I thought.'
A massive surge of Blood Qi flowed through the Ascension Sword and into his right hand.
But unlike before, sothing was different.
Instead of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword's demonic energy and the Ascension Sword's Blood Qi clashing against each other, they coexisted without friction.
His breakthrough to the Realm of Truth had finally let him manage his internal energy without breaking a sweat. He'd felt sothing similar a couple of hours ago when he stabbed that Spirit Beast.
At the ti, he'd wondered if it was because the opponent was a Spirit Beast, but now he could confirm it wasn't limited to that.
'Well, at least I won't have to worry about running out of internal energy mid-fight.'
Not when the Ascension Sword acted as a giant battery every ti it tasted blood.
Granted, the condition was that the sword needed direct contact with blood, but getting blood on your blade during combat was about as common as breathing.
After doing a quick check on his body, Il-mok yanked the Ascension Sword free from the tribal chief’s body.
If he let the sword drink until the guy turned into a shriveled mummy, he ran the risk of accidentally spawning a brand-new vengeful spirit inside the sword.
'Better to absorb small amounts from multiple people instead.'
Indiscriminate blood-drinking would probably turn the Ascension Sword into one of the most infamous demonic blades in martial arts history.
Slash!
With one more clean swipe, Il-mok lopped off the leader's head, scooped it up, and spun around to roar at the crowd.
"HALT!!!"
His qi-infused shout exploded across the open plains like thunder, instantly snapping everyone's attention right to him.
The eyes of the nomads who'd been attacking the Jarchigud settlent in their encirclent formation went wide with shock.
"KHAGAN!!"
They couldn't have imagined that their great chieftain had been beheaded in such a short span of ti.
"We must avenge the Khagan!!"
"Kill him!!"
But the chieftain's death alone wasn't enough to break their spirit. They only burned brighter, swinging their weapons with renewed fury.
Il-mok clicked his tongue at their stubbornness, then channeled Blood Qi into the Ascension Sword.
Crimson energy blood from the blade and spread outward like a net.
Schlick!
Schlick!!
The warriors who'd been the loudest in rallying the others were cut down in rapid succession.
Maybe it was the fact that he'd just butchered dozens of their best warriors with a single move. But whatever the reason, the Mangud warriors who had been so eager to fight a second ago were now staring at Il-mok in absolute horror.
Now that they finally seed ready to listen, Il-mok bellowed.
"Drop your weapons and surrender, and I'll spare your lives!"
The second Ohalak translated his shout, the Mangud warriors didn't hesitate. They tossed their weapons to the dirt and dropped to their knees in perfect sync.
***
Once the surrendered enemies were completely tied down and rounded up, they ended up with about seventy captives.
Considering the raiding party had initially numbered around a hundred and fifty, it ant he had let about half of them live.
'Still, better than killing every last one of them.'
When faced with a glass of water, you can call it half-empty or half-full. Il-mok chose to see it as half full.
In the past, he either didn't draw his sword at all or, once he did, he killed everyone.
The reason he'd offered surrender was the vow he'd made to himself upon achieving Transcendence and entering the Realm of Truth.
He wouldn't hesitate to kill when necessary, but he would refrain from indiscriminate slaughter.
It was a pledge made the mont he accepted this world as his reality, a promise to himself that he wouldn't let the bloodshed turn him into a crazed monster.
Although it seed like a contradictory stance for soone who had casually massacred dozens of n with a single move, this was ironically a calculated thod to minimize the overall bloodshed.
He needed to demonstrate overwhelming force to crush their will to resist.
In fact, every warrior Il-mok had killed with the Heavenly Net Sword had been soone with a strong fighting spirit and considerable skill. They were basically the heavy hitters of the tribe.
"What do you plan to do with them?"
Il-mok shrugged at Jin Hayeon's question.
"I'll talk to them first and decide."
He walked toward the restrained prisoners.
As he approached, they looked up at him with eyes that mixed fear and awe in equal asure.
They weren't the only ones.
The Jarchigud tribespeople were peeking out from their yurts with expressions of pure reverence.
Expressions remarkably similar to those of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's faithful followers.
By now fairly accustod to such gazes, Il-mok addressed the prisoners.
"I am the Incarnation sent to this earth by Maitreya to cleanse this world from evil."
Despite calling himself a being beyond human, no one dared deny or mock the claim. Not after the divine might they'd just witnessed.
"You attacked the innocent Jarchigud tribe and us out of greed. Do you acknowledge your cri?"
"P-please, spare us!"
"And what guarantee do I have if I spare you?"
"W-we'll do anything if you let us live!"
"If I release you, you'll obviously just wait for another chance to attack."
"H-how could we ever dare stand against a Baatar?"
Just then, a young nomad who'd been silently watching the exchange cried out. "If we all die here, the won and children back at our settlent will be in danger. Please, at least spare them!"
"Unbelievable. And did you lot spare a thought for the Jarchigud tribe's won and children when you ca here to attack?"
"W-we never intended to harm the won and children. I swear it. Please believe ."
While Ohalak translated the young nomad's words, the Jarchigud chief spoke up cautiously.
"Incarnation of Maitreya, would you grant a mont to speak?"
Whether because Il-mok had saved them twice or because of the awe his power inspired, the chief addressed him with far more deference than before.
"Go ahead."
"Normally, when the outco of a battle between tribes is decided, the losing tribe is absorbed by the victors. The custom is to leave the won and children unhard. They would follow the sa practice."
"You're saying they wouldn't have touched the Jarchigud won and children?"
"There is that, but I also ant that their forces likely do not consist solely of warriors from the Mangud tribe alone."
The Jarchigud tribe itself had been absorbed by the rkit tribe after losing the war. The only reason the conflict reignited was the disappearance of the Khagan's body.
At its peak, the Jarchigud tribe had subjugated multiple other tribes as well. The Mangud tribe was probably no different.
Now Il-mok grasped the broader picture.
'So that's why they surrendered so easily.'
Normally, people bound together under the na of a "tribe" were all blood relatives.
No matter how outmatched they were, when your parents, siblings, and cousins were being killed, most people would choose vengeance over surrender.
But these warriors had surrendered without hesitation once their chieftain and key fighters were wiped out.
"Hmm. In that case, the won and children they left back at camp are basically hostages to keep these guys in line aren't they?"
"...That is one way to see it."
If you forced subjugated warriors to fight on the front lines while keeping their won and children back at camp, it guaranteed they wouldn't pull a revolt and betray you mid-battle.
Because if they did, their families would pay the price.
Basically, there was a huge chance that a good chunk of these survivors were actually guys from other tribes the Mangud had conquered.
'But I can't just blindly trust them. It's not like we're settling down here permanently.
After a mont's deliberation, Il-mok thought of a workable solution and addressed the prisoners in a calm voice.
"Right. Did you say you'd do absolutely anything if I let you live?"
* * *
With the prisoners' fate decided in his mind, Il-mok turned and gave Seo Jae-pil an order. "Patch up the wounded for now."
While Seo Jae-pil and the physicians tended to the prisoners as instructed, Il-mok called the three won over again.
"The attack set us back a bit."
He held out the Spirit Beast's inner core, and the won exchanged glances.
"...We will follow your wishes, Young Master."
Jin Hayeon made the decision first, and the other two followed without objection.
"Once the core cracks, the energy will dissipate quickly. You'll need to consu your portions the instant it's split and enter ditation imdiately."
They nodded with serious expressions.
To make sure they absorbed it safely, they spaced themselves out before sitting down in lotus position.
Once they appeared ready, Il-mok's hand blurred into motion.
Whoosh!
With a flick of a hand, the inner core split cleanly into three pieces, and the fragnts flew toward each of the won simultaneously.
Rembering exactly what he had just told them, they snatched the fragnts out of the air, tossed them into their mouths, and imdiately began their energy circulation.
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