The One Hundred and Eight Ice Demon Pillars Formation was a formation that replaced the Arhats of the One Hundred and Eight Arhat Formation with 108 ice pillars.
The foundation of these ice pillars was the Ice Spirit Art and the Five Elements Water technique.
Initially, Seo-jun intended to use it without dark energy, calling it the One Hundred and Eight Ice Pillars Formation . However, dark energy unintentionally fused into it.
This was due to the poisonous Blood-Stained Souls of the Sect Leader.
Although protective energy was nearly a perfect defense, Seo-jun had been poisoned by the Blood-Stained Souls mingled in the air.
The first crimson smoke released by the Sect Leader had been a feint. It seemed he had covertly dispersed the Blood-Stained Souls poison afterward, which Seo-jun’s protective energy failed to filter from the air.
Somehow, it couldn’t differentiate poison that was assimilated with the air.
How such a feat was possible, Seo-jun didn’t know.
He could only guess this was why poison techniques survived in the martial world.
Either way, it wasn’t important at the moment. What mattered was that he had been poisoned.
Seo-jun thought simply.
Poison, after all, was just foreign matter entering the body.
Since he could sense an odd foreign sensation in his blood due to the Blood-Stained Souls , he used his dark energy to instantly purge his blood, burning away all impurities.
He gathered any remaining remnants in his mouth, spitting them out with his saliva.
Though his veins darkened and bulged, he paid it no mind, as he felt no harm in his body.
All he did was pull a fragment of the captured domain into the world.
Cr-cr-crack—
His internal core and the 108 ice pillars resonated, filling the entire Blood Crow Sect with freezing energy.
“Hoo…”
Seo-jun exhaled white breath, sensing everything within the Blood Crow Sect.
The presence of 2,372 living beings, the formations within, the structure of the buildings, hidden underground passages, the gazes fixed upon him, their emotions, and their immense fear.
By bringing out his core, an extension of himself, and spreading his awareness across the One Hundred and Eight Ice Demon Pillars Formation , this was all possible.
He’d adapted this method from spellcraft.
In martial arts, one couldn’t control external energy freely until reaching the Fire Boundary. But in spellcraft, it was achievable, albeit limitedly, through resonance.
The core, a crystallization of Seo-jun’s essence and spirit, was essentially part of Seo-jun himself. By externalizing it, he created a second self outside.
Through this, he resonated with the 108 ice pillars, dividing his presence among them, ultimately projecting himself throughout the formation’s domain.
This he named the Eight Cold Hells .
A pseudo-domain imitating the Fire Boundary.
Seo-jun overlooked all breathing beings within the Blood Crow Sect, controlling every trace of cold within.
“What… what is this…?”
The Sect Leader’s eyes trembled.
He didn’t understand what was happening, but he knew it was nothing ordinary.
The piercing cold numbed even his thoughts.
Before he knew it, the figure before him seemed to grow distant.
No, he was instinctively stepping back.
“How… how could this…?”
Gritting his teeth, he drew all his power in a last-ditch effort.
His instincts told him escape was impossible.
But he wasn’t the kind to yield to despair so easily.
He would kill that man and survive.
The Sect Leader clenched his teeth.
Blood Essence Energy , the Blood Crow Sect’s unique art.
A crimson aura enveloped the Sect Leader’s hands.
Sizzle—!
Blood burned and smoked on his energy-coated left hand, now reduced to just a thumb.
With a fierce swing, he scattered the energy outward.
Thwap-thwap-thwap—!
The energy exploded, shattering into thousands of fragments that looked like ghostly flames.
As the shards of energy came flying, Seo-jun’s eyes darkened.
“So, that’s how it works.”
As he exhaled, all the fragments froze and fell.
The Sect Leader bit his lip, but instead of despair, he shouted loudly.
“Attack!”
Half the sect disciples, disregarding death, charged forward.
A third hesitated, while the rest screamed and ran.
Seo-jun waved his hand.
Whoosh—!
A gust swept from his hand, formed of freezing energy.
Crack—! The chilling wind swept through the Blood Crow Sect, freezing everything in its path.
“A-ah…”
“Please, spa—”
1,987 frozen statues appeared.
Out of the initial 2,372 presences, only 385 remained.
With 317 assumed to be sacrifices held by the Blood Crow Sect, this left just 68 surviving members.
Flick—
With a snap of Seo-jun’s fingers, a massive ice pillar formed in mid-air and fell to the ground.
Boom—!
Only 18 remained.
Cr-crack—! As cracks appeared on the colossal ice pillar connecting heaven and earth,
Shatter—!
It splintered into millions of shards.
Another flick of Seo-jun’s fingers, and the wind blew again.
The shards, carried by the wind, swept through the Blood Crow Sect.
“Ahhh…!”
The survivors were engulfed by the icy blades, reduced to mere pools of blood.
Now, only one remained.
The pale-faced Sect Leader looked up at Seo-jun.
“Impossible… The poison…”
“As if.”
Seo-jun opened his hand.
A red particle condensed from the frozen air gathered in his palm.
It was Blood-Stained Souls , the poison the Sect Leader had secretly dispersed amidst his Blood Essence Energy . The poison embedded in the blood had been burned by the energy.
Seo-jun guessed this was what allowed the poison to bypass his protective energy.
Though it was a troublesome poison, it wouldn’t fool him twice.
As Seo-jun stared at him intently, the Sect Leader let out a hollow laugh.
“This is absurd…”
His spirit broke.
But his pride as a martial artist wouldn’t allow him to die without a fight.
With crimson energy enveloping his hands, the Sect Leader kicked off the ground.
Drawing his power, he unleashed his ultimate move.
True Blood Talons .
Ten crimson lines filled the air as his nails slashed through the space.
Seo-jun gathered all the cold energy within the pseudo-domain to a single point.
Ice Crystal.
The Sect Leader’s eyes shut tightly at the sight of the sudden, snowflake-like crystal before him.
Boom—!
The entire area was bathed in white, and when the frost cleared, not a trace of the Sect Leader remained.
Only his shattered, frozen remnants drifted away on the wind.
Seo-jun, standing on the ground, gazed briefly at the frozen remains of the Blood Crow Sect.
“…Still a long way to go.”
The pseudo-domain, Eight Cold Hells .
He had indeed taken a step closer to the Fire Boundary, yet it was still lacking.
He could only control the cold energy within the domain, not the energy itself.
Moreover, half of his power was confined in his externalized core, weakening his true body, and the pseudo-domain’s projection was far too shallow.
It was a technique with limited use outside of overwhelming weaker opponents.
It was only meaningful as a fleeting taste of the Fire Boundary.
“Hah…”
Seo-jun sighed, snapping his fingers.
Rumble—
The moisture in the earth froze, raising the ground.
A hidden chamber emerged from the depths below.
In the cramped space were 317 people.
They were little more than lifeless shells, merely breathing.
Not even Seo-jun could save them.
Clicking his tongue, Seo-jun froze their hearts and brains, granting them a painless death.
Creating a grave would be pointless, as the Black Lotus forces would desecrate their bodies during their search.
Instead, he disassembled their bodies into ice particles, which floated into the air, scattering moonlight in a mystical halo.
Seo-jun watched the sight for a while.
The dim light gradually faded, finally dispersing into the night sky.
Lowering his gaze from the heavens, Seo-jun called his core back into his mouth.
Woosh—!
The pseudo-domain dissolved, and a warm breeze blew.
“Ugh…”
Seo-jun wiped the blood from his mouth with his sleeve.
Even as a pseudo-domain, it was still too early for him to wield it fully.
“This should… be enough to make it to the finals.”
Assessing his rapidly recovering condition, Seo-jun walked away slowly.
After a short recovery period, he planned to return to Henan.
Chun-bong was in a terrible mood.
That bastard Lee Seo-jun, who said he’d be back soon, hadn’t returned yet.
Time had passed, and the Yongbong Gathering’s finals had arrived.
Chun-bong, waiting alongside Namgung Myung and Namgung Su-a, tapped her foot anxiously.
“He didn’t get into trouble, did he…?”
“He’ll be fine, Geum Mae.”
“Hmm…”
Pouting, Chun-bong finally let out a deep sigh.
“Well, he wouldn’t be the type to get beaten up anywhere.”
What mattered now was herself.
The Yongbong Gathering was just about to truly begin.
As the heir of the Gold Sword Clan, she had pondered when to reveal her lineage.
Whether to declare it as the finals began and ride the buzz to victory, or to win first and drop the news with a bang afterward.
She’d already made her decision.
Now, all that was left was to wait.
After a brief opening ceremony, the start of the matches was announced, and the referee called the first participants.
“Zhu Yang-il of the Imperial Family!”
With loud cheers, a man entered the arena.
He surveyed the crowd with a blank expression.
His eyes were subdued, as if he had no interest in the Yongbong Gathering. His imposing gaze silenced the audience.
Chun-bong clicked her tongue as she looked at him.
“Look at that arrogant bastard, look at those eyes.”
A descendant of the War God Zhu Un-chun, who once ruled the Central Plains.
Although the Imperial Family had stumbled briefly after the War God’s ascension, they still held their ground among the Six Great Clans.
Unlike the fallen Gold Sword Clan…
“Oh…!”
The referee, a monk, seemed taken aback and looked toward the elders seated behind him.
Having already been briefed, the elders nodded.
The referee adjusted his expression before announcing loudly.
“Geum Hee of the Gold Sword Clan…!”
The Gold Sword Clan.
A family once graced by the Divine Sword, but brought to ruin in a single night.
At the mention of that name, silence fell over the crowd.
Zhu Yang-il, who had stood expressionless, widened his eyes, scanning the arena for the Gold Sword Clan’s heir.
Then, the Gold Sword Clan’s successor, Geum Hee.
‘Geum Hee?’
After a brief moment of surprise, Chun-bong remembered.
‘Oh, right. That’s my name, isn’t it?’
With her mind made up, Chun-bong stepped confidently into the arena.
All eyes were on her.
Standing in the arena, Chun-bong tossed aside her outer garment.
Woosh—!
As it fluttered away, it revealed the attire of the Gold Sword Clan beneath.
Cheers erupted from the crowd, unable to contain their excitement.
A successor of the Gold Sword Clan, thought to be long gone, had reappeared.
As thunderous applause shook the heavens, Chun-bong straightened proudly.
The ornate attire symbolizing the Young Lord of the Gold Sword Clan billowed in the wind.
A black dragon embroidered on a golden background.
Zhu Yang-il’s eyebrow twitched as he took in her attire.
His clothing bore a similar design.
The colors reversed, with a black background and a golden dragon.
“A dragon robe… still as arrogant as ever.”
Zhu Yang-il’s cold gaze fixed on Chun-bong.
“Daring, for a mere martial artist.”
Chun-bong scoffed, raising her middle finger.
“Talking big for a clan that doesn’t even have ‘Divine’ in its name.”
“Does a clan abandoned by the Divine dare to call itself such?”
“…You’re begging to die.”
These arrogant imperial brats.
As Chun-bong bared her teeth, the referee announced,
“The finals of the Yongbong Gathering shall begin!”