Chapter 32
Ten minutes later, a masked man slumped to the ground, his lifeless body hitting the dirt with a dull thud. His face bore an almost serene expression, as if he had simply drifted off to sleep. He had cooperated fully, divulging every piece of information I demanded, so in return, I granted him a painless death.
But as I pieced together the fragments of what he’d told me, my expression grew increasingly grim.
“Kidnapping, murder, human trafficking…”
I let out a heavy sigh, a feeling of unease settling in my chest.
“It seems like we’ve stepped in something much deeper than expected.”
From the beginning, the lengths these people were willing to go to monopolize the psychokinetic stones had raised my suspicions. That was why I hadn’t hesitated to use force. While psychokinetic stones and black magic do have a certain synergy, the sheer volume they needed suggested something much more sinister.
Human experimentation.
These bastards were experimenting on humans, no doubt about it.
But…
“This is as far as I expected. Beyond this point, these scum are far worse than I anticipated.”
There are different branches of black magic, and within them, varying levels of villainy. Human experimentation is despicable, undeniably, but it’s also just the tip of the iceberg. There’s a deeper abyss, a far darker realm where only those who have completely abandoned their humanity dare to tread—a forbidden area known as ‘homunculus creation,’ the final stage of human synthesis, a venture into the domain of ‘creation.’
The conclusion was clear.
These vermin were creating humans. Not ordinary humans, but grotesque, weaponized monstrosities—inhuman abominations made by consuming countless human lives, possibly hundreds, maybe thousands.
“Haah…”
I exhaled deeply, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.
It didn’t matter if we were in the Empire or here on Earth; vile creatures like these existed everywhere. It was a bitter reminder of why black magic had such a terrible reputation. Despite any efforts to redeem it, scum like this would always drag it back into the mud.
It’s because of vermin like these that black magic is seen as the ultimate evil.
No matter how much you try to polish an image, the filth these scum leave behind is impossible to ignore. Their actions painted all black magicians as monsters, no matter how unfair that judgment might be.
And that’s why I despise these creatures so much.
They’re the kind of filth that ruins the hard-earned accomplishments of those of us who use black magic responsibly, the trash that taints everything it touches. If it were up to me, I’d kill every last one of them.
In fact, back in the Empire, I often took it upon myself to hunt down and eradicate filth like this.
“I can’t imagine how much more hatred he must carry…”
I wasn’t just thinking of myself anymore. I was thinking of Han Jun-woo. My young friend had lost everything to villains like these—his entire family annihilated.
The look in his eyes just before we parted ways spoke volumes. The killing intent I felt was no joke; he was on the edge of losing control, a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any moment.
That’s why I left Meri with him. To keep an eye on him.
But now…
“I’ve changed my mind.”
Originally, this was supposed to be a mission to punish some villains while giving Jun-woo some much-needed combat experience. I even thought it might help him deal with the seething rage inside him.
But if these scum are as bad as I think they are…
“We need to wipe them out completely.”
Eradication, down to the roots.
Han Jun-woo would never forget that night.
The night when thick, crimson blood rained down like a storm through the pitch-black darkness.
The night the Muhee family fell into a living hell.
“We’ll hold them off. You must escape!”
“It’s hopeless. We’re all going to die at this rate. At least let Jun-woo escape…”
“You have to survive. Live on, and avenge us…”
“Take care of the family, Jun-woo.”
“I’m so sorry, my precious boy. I love you.”
The uncles who always smiled at him.
The aunts who cared for him as much as his own mother.
His stern but warm-hearted grandfather.
And his beloved parents.
All of them were gone.
Slaughtered by a group of unknown villains. The Muhee family, along with every noble family in Busan, wiped out in a single, merciless attack.
On that night, the only survivor of the Busan Massacre…
Was Han Jun-woo.
Himself.
His sword danced through the air, cleaving through flesh. A head rolled across the ground, painting the dirt in splashes of crimson. The sharp scent of blood filled his nostrils, but he didn’t care. Right now, the only thing that mattered…
Was cutting down the enemies in front of him.
Jun-woo leaned back, narrowly dodging a spear thrust aimed at his chest. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the spear’s shaft and launched himself into the air.
He soared with the grace of a gymnast performing on the parallel bars, and as he reached the apex of his leap, he threw his dagger with deadly precision.
“Kuh…!”
The dagger shot out like a flash of lightning, piercing his target’s heart.
Jun-woo barely spared a glance at the collapsing masked man before turning his focus back to the remaining enemies.
The hail of magic continued to rain down on him, but he ignored it, his gaze locked onto his prey.
‘Two left.’
There was a metallic clinking sound as the segmented swords attached to Jun-woo’s wrists unfurled.
The whips of metal swayed and undulated like serpents, waiting for his command.
His eyes sharpened.
‘Let’s dance.’
The blades lashed out, weaving through the air in a deadly dance.
He slashed, parried, stabbed, and shattered the spells that came his way. His movements were a blur of speed and precision, cutting down every magical attack that tried to reach him.
Front, back, left, right, even from above—Jun-woo deflected the incoming spells as if the concept of blind spots simply didn’t exist for him.
“Th-that’s insane!”
“He… he’s…”
Is this even real?
This was supposed to be the moment they turned the tide. They had sacrificed their comrade to create an opening.
And yet, he had shut them down effortlessly?
The two masked men stared in disbelief as their spells crumbled before their eyes.
In that brief moment of shock…
For them, it was just a moment. But for Jun-woo, it was more than enough time.
“Phew…”
He exhaled, expanding his awareness.
He concentrated on the music played by the whirling blades, pushing his turbulent emotions down into a calm, controlled rhythm.
In that instant, his vision was flooded with light.
The sword slashed through the night.
If the sword could cut through the night, could it also cut through the day?
The Dance of the Mayfly.
Jun-woo vanished from sight.
The masked men who had been hurling spells at him blinked in confusion, searching for his whereabouts. But before they could locate him, their world was plunged into darkness.
It was as if they had suddenly closed their eyes—everything was pitch black.
They tried to run, but something was wrong.
Thud?!
Their feet met with nothing but emptiness, as if the ground had given way beneath them.
As they plummeted into the abyss, they screamed. Or at least, they tried to.
But… why couldn’t they hear their own voices? No matter how much they shouted, the only sound they heard was silence.
Panic set in as they thrashed about, only to find themselves losing balance and falling.
And that was it.
In the sensory prison created by the Dance of the Mayfly, they perished, never even realizing they had died.
Thud! Thud!
Jun-woo repeatedly brought his sword down onto the already lifeless body, reducing it to a bloody pulp.
Unable to watch any longer, Meri rushed over.
“Stop! Please stop!”
“…”
“Jun-woo, stop!”
It was clear he wasn’t going to listen.
Desperate, Meri threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his trembling form.
“Please, Jun-woo. It’s over. He’s already dead. There’s no need to keep spreading their filthy blood.”
“…”
Meri knew all too well about the Busan Massacre. She knew that the villains had slaughtered every noble family connected to the Muhee clan.
She knew that Han Jun-woo’s entire family had been brutally murdered by those villains.
Of course, he would be furious. Who wouldn’t be, after watching their family die right in front of their eyes? And at such a young age—he had only been twelve, barely old enough to fully comprehend what was happening.
He had every reason to hate the world, to be consumed by an unrelenting desire for revenge.
But even so…
“This… this isn’t going to change anything. No matter how angry you are, don’t destroy yourself in the process.”
“…”
“Jun-woo, you’ve always been the rational one. That’s what I like about you. Even when everything’s falling apart, you always stay calm, just saying ‘I agree.’ So please, don’t hurt yourself like this. Okay?”
“…”
Jun-woo didn’t respond to her plea. Instead, tears silently rolled down his cheeks.
Meri held him close, gently patting his back as he wept.
After what felt like an eternity, the storm of emotions passed.
Finally, having regained some semblance of composure, the two of them prepared to move on.
“Ki-hyuk said he’d take care of things on the other side. All we have to do is create enough chaos to keep the enemies off his back. Are you listening, Jun-woo?”
“I’m listening.”
“And don’t lose control again. I didn’t say anything earlier, but what you did back there was dangerous. That final move…”
“The Dance of the Mayfly.”
“Yes, that. The Dance of the Mayfly. It nearly broke through my suppression spell. You have to be more careful! Promise me you won’t lose control like that again.”
“I promise. I got too worked up.”
“Good. If you break that promise, it’s over for you. I’m not going down with you.”
“I understand.”
Despite the gravity of their conversation, the two moved swiftly through the forest.
Meri maintained a constant suppression spell, while Jun-woo spread his senses, scanning for any threats.
Their seamless teamwork, honed through countless gate missions, was on full display.
“I’ve found them.”
There was no need for further instructions. Jun-woo took the lead, and Meri followed closely behind.
Their steps were perfectly synchronized, even down to the rhythm of their breathing.
When they reached their destination, they were met with a grotesque sight that was almost too much to bear.
“…!!”
The earth beneath them was stained a deep crimson, and a towering tree stood in the center of the clearing.
Its branches, which seemed to reach up toward the heavens, were laden with what appeared to be fruit.
But these were no ordinary fruits—they were human heads.
Heads that hung from the branches, mouths agape, still vomiting forth streams of blood.
Blood that poured like a river, soaking the earth beneath the tree, turning it into a grotesque, red swamp.
“The ground… it’s red because of that… Ugh!”
“…!”
They were facing a Flesh-Eating Tree.
The lower-level demon beast that used whole human bodies as its sustenance was beckoning them with its monstrous tendrils.
“They’ve even summoned a demon beast?”
The Flesh-Eating Tree was a low-level demon beast that consumed entire human bodies as offerings.
Its fixed nature made it immobile, which was a significant drawback, but it more than made up for it with its formidable offensive power, resistance to most forms of magic, and regenerative capabilities.
Additionally, it absorbed life force over time, growing stronger the longer it was left undisturbed.
Despite these advantages, it wasn’t commonly used.
And the reason should be obvious just by looking at it.
The heads hanging from the branches, the limbs embedded in the trunk—everything about it was repulsive.
But even aside from its hideous appearance, the Flesh-Eating Tree had another major flaw: it required an enormous number of sacrifices.
It was comparable to a mid-level demon beast in terms of the number of sacrifices needed.
To summon that thing, they must have sacrificed at least fifty people, alive.
This is why even the Empire’s demon summoners avoided using it.
And yet, here it was, right in front of me, on Earth.
“These guys just keep surprising me.”
A grin spread across my face.
I had to admit it.
I had assumed that people on Earth had a higher average level of intelligence and morality. After all, they even taught ethics as part of their basic education. I thought they would at least have some sense of decency.
But after seeing this…
“Whether it’s the Empire or here, scum are scum.”
With a snap of my fingers, the space around us rippled, and an army of skeletons materialized.
White, gleaming bones, armed with axes and shields, formed ranks around me.
Their empty eye sockets flared with a blue light, and the runes etched into their bones began to glow.
Once they were fully prepared, the skeletons turned to me, awaiting orders.
“Advance.”
With a thunderous rumble, the skeletons surged forward. Naturally, I led the charge.
Our target was the Flesh-Eating Tree.
Sensing the impending threat, the tree extended its massive roots from the ground.
The roots, swollen and engorged with the life force they had drained, slammed into the earth, causing tremors to ripple through the area as if an earthquake had struck.
But there was no way I would be intimidated by a low-level demon beast.
“Consider yourself lucky. You’re the first to witness this.”
A technique that Min-ji, my sister, had taught me just a few days ago.
“Keep your breathing steady.”
“Relax your body.”
“Let the sword guide you.”
I gripped my greatsword tightly and awakened the ‘Sword Saint’ within me.
“Sword Saint Style…”
Sword Saint Style: Flash Cut.
With a swift motion, I drew my greatsword and slashed horizontally.
A flash of light, resembling the glow of the moon, tore through the air, slicing everything in its path. Trees, branches, roots, even the trunk of the Flesh-Eating Tree.
Crack! Crackle! Crash!
The tree’s trunk, nearly severed in half, screamed as it writhed in agony.
I clicked my tongue in disappointment.
“Tsk, I still haven’t mastered it.”
Despite the devastating power, it wasn’t enough. I had intended to sever the trunk in one clean strike, but my accuracy was lacking.
Skipping practice was starting to show.
I need to do better.
I intercepted the tree’s roots with my greatsword, cleaving them apart.
Meanwhile, the skeletons were handling the remaining roots.
Though some skeletons were crushed by the roots as they slammed into the ground, many more swarmed over the roots, hacking them apart like a swarm of ants.
With its roots under attack and its distance closed, the Flesh-Eating Tree was as good as dead.
As expected, just moments later…
Kreeeaaak!
The tree let out one final, pitiful shriek before collapsing to the ground.
Thud!!
The battle was over.
……
…
But there was still one more task left to do.
“Now comes the most important part.”
The Flesh-Eating Tree had absorbed an immense amount of life force from the surrounding area.
As a result, the land around it had withered and died, but in exchange, the tree had accumulated more life force than any other creature.
In other words…
“It’s an excellent source of protein.”
The space around me rippled once more, and moments later, Baphomet appeared on my right, and Asura on my left.
“Eat.”
Crunch, crunch.
The black mist engulfed the fallen Flesh-Eating Tree, devouring it greedily.
As the tree’s remains were consumed, a severed head rolled toward my feet.
Its empty, lifeless eyes stared up at me.
There was no life, no soul left in those eyes—only the residue of despair.
But I could see it. I could see the one thing this poor soul had desperately longed for.
It was revenge.
“I promise you. I’ll make them suffer more than you ever did.”
And as the head faded away, I could have sworn it smiled.
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