Chapter 41: Chaos (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 41: Chaos (3)
A procession of carts was winding its way toward the northwestern outskirts of the Martial Alliance’s fortress.
Physicians dressed in special poison-resistant suits and warriors from the Tang Family pulled the carts, which were tightly sealed with cloth. Inside were corpses and various items retrieved from the secret vault.
Their destination was the Martial Alliance’s quarantine facility.
It was a place equipped even with an incinerator.
They were moving everything and everyone that had come into contact with the poison mist to isolate them and prevent the toxin from spreading further.
Upon arriving at the facility, Dang Ju-sang, the Tang Family Hall Master in charge of the procession, gave his orders.
“Take all those poisoned and the corpses to the isolation wards. Everything else that touched the mist is to be burned in the incinerator immediately.”
“Understood!”
The physicians and Tang Family members moved with practiced efficiency.
The number of corpses being moved to the isolation wards alone exceeded thirty. They were the Alliance warriors who had perished within the secret vault.
“Grab the arms.”
“Damn, this one’s heavy.”
“Stop complaining and just move.”
Since there was no need to waste stretchers on the dead, they had to laboriously carry the bodies one by one, gripping them by their arms and legs.
It was as they were laying the bodies out in the isolation ward.
A coughing sound erupted from among the corpses piled in the corner.
“Cough!”
“Huh?”
The physicians and Tang warriors approached the source of the sound, looking puzzled. The noise had definitely come from the pile of bodies.
“What’s going on?”
“I definitely heard a cough.”
“I think it was over here.”
At that moment, a blood-soaked corpse suddenly bolted upright.
Everyone jumped back in shock and confusion as the body they assumed was dead suddenly rose. For a corpse, the eyes were far too full of life.
“H-He’s alive?”
“Indeed. I am.”
“!?”
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
“Ack!”
“Gah!”
In an instant, the physicians and Tang warriors who had crowded around were slaughtered. Their faces, throats, and hearts were pierced by ruthless finger strikes.
Emerging from the fallen men was a small-statured figure with dark red eyes.
It was Baek Hye-hyang.
The Turtle Breathing Technique is certainly a chore.
She had been maintaining the Turtle Breathing Technique while hidden among the corpses until now. It was a method that allowed one to mimic death by cutting off all signs of respiration.
Rumble!
She sensed a presence outside.
Baek Hye-hyang stepped out of the isolation ward.
As she opened the door, she found Dang Ju-sang, the Tang Family’s External Hall Master, and his warriors already converging on her position.
Dang Ju-sang spoke with a look of utter disbelief.
“Ha! What a spectacle. To think you’d disguise yourself as a corpse.”
Who could have imagined it? That she would hide among the poisoned dead from the vault.
We verified the identities of all the corpses. That means that face is a human skin mask.
Realizing the truth changed nothing; it was already too late.
However, she didn't seem to care about the men surrounding her. She looked toward a specific spot and asked, “The sword?”
“It is here.”
Swish!
Something flew over the perimeter of warriors and landed squarely in Baek Hye-hyang’s hand.
“What?”
Dang Ju-sang looked back. Standing next to the cart that had held the imitation Blood Demon Swords was a man dressed as a physician, his face covered, just finishing the motion of throwing something.
“Blast it!”
The man he thought was a physician was actually a spy.
Dang Ju-sang whipped his head back around to see Baek Hye-hyang holding a sword hilt covered in talismans.
But we checked them all!
They had personally peeled back the talismans on every single sword to verify they were fakes.
However, looking closely, the seal between the hilt and the scabbard of the sword Baek Hye-hyang held was still intact.
It’s the real one!
He didn't know how they had done it, but it seemed they had slipped the real sword among the fakes.
Dang Ju-sang shouted urgently, “Seize her! Do not let her leave with that sword!”
“Too late.”
Baek Hye-hyang gripped the scabbard and pulled with force.
The sealing talismans tore away, and the blade hidden within revealed itself. It was a silver blade engraved with a unique pattern.
“!?”
Baek Hye-hyang’s brow furrowed.
Dang Ju-sang, who had been tensed for the sword’s unsheathing, let out a mocking laugh.
“You fool. You’ve taken a fake.”
Any martial artist who knew of the Great Orthodox-Evil War remembered the appearance of the Blood Demon Sword. A blood-colored blade that evoked images of slaughter. Hundreds of Orthodox masters had lost their lives to that demonic sword.
Baek Hye-hyang smoothed her expression and brought her index and middle fingers together, tracing them toward the tip of the blade.
“There is something you people misunderstand.”
“What?”
“The Blood Demon Sword doesn't possess a blood-red hue because that is its original color.”
The moment she finished speaking, an intense killing intent erupted from her entire body.
Shiver!
W-What is this killing intent…
A red haze began to shimmer and rise from her shoulders.
As Baek Hye-hyang slowly ran her fingers from the tip of the blade down to the hilt, an incredible thing happened.
The silver blade began to stain a deep, bloody crimson.
Dang Ju-sang could not hide his horror at the sight.
“The… The Blood Demon Sword!”
*
Inside the Martial Alliance fortress.
To the southeast, not far from the Great Training Ground where the Successor’s Martial Discussion had been held.
It was the area between the main headquarters and the First Strategist Division.
The Martial Alliance’s Medicine Hall was located there.
A man was hurrying toward the Medicine Hall’s storage room: Zhuge Won-myeong.
Behind him followed three guards, including a middle-aged man who served as his primary protector.
Zhuge Won-myeong’s expression was grim.
“Are you certain?” he asked as they hurried along.
“Yes. We have reports that individuals were seen leaving the Medicine Hall carrying swords sealed with talismans.”
“To think they would catch on to this place.”
The reason for Zhuge Won-myeong’s gravity was simple. The real Blood Demon Sword was hidden in a secret space within this storage room.
He had judged that there was a risk of the sword being stolen in an emergency, so after consulting with the Alliance Leader, he had hidden it in a place no one else knew.
A secret location known only to him.
How on earth did they find out?
He was the only one who knew the sword was hidden here. He hadn't even told his right-hand man, the middle-aged guard Manwang.
If the sword is truly stolen, it will remain a permanent stain on the Martial Alliance’s honor.
Zhuge Won-myeong rushed into the storage room.
The room was filled with ordinary medicinal herbs and medical texts. Manwang watched Zhuge Won-myeong with a questioning gaze.
Zhuge Won-myeong opened a specific herb drawer. Then, he pulled out several books from the shelves.
Suddenly, something remarkable happened.
Rumble!
The structure of the storage room shifted, expanding to reveal a door between the bookshelf and the herb drawers.
“A Qi Gate Formation!”
Manwang and the other guards gasped in admiration. It was a feat worthy of the Zhuge Family, renowned for their mastery of mechanisms, formations, and Qi Gate arrays.
“Wait here.”
Zhuge Won-myeong opened the door and stepped inside.
Fumbling through the dark room, he found a lamp and lit the wick. The interior was bathed in light.
Inside the secret chamber sat a long wooden box.
With an anxious face, Zhuge Won-myeong hurriedly opened the box.
“!?”
His brow furrowed. Inside was a sword hilt covered in talismans.
It’s still here.
He had been sick with worry that the Blood Cult’s spies might have stolen it, but now he felt a wave of hollow relief.
However, a thumping sound echoed from behind him.
What is that?
Just as he was about to close the box and turn around to see what was happening—
Stab!
“Gah!”
Someone launched a surprise attack, driving a sword into Zhuge Won-myeong’s abdomen.
It happened so fast that he had no time to react.
In the flickering lamplight, a face appeared.
“M-Manwang… you…”
It was his most trusted guard, Manwang.
Stunned by the sheer absurdity of the situation, Zhuge Won-myeong faltered for a moment before thrusting a palm strike toward Manwang’s chest.
Manwang nimbly dodged the strike with a footwork method.
As a result, the sword was ripped out of Zhuge Won-myeong’s gut, and blood soaked his robes.
“Urgh.”
Zhuge Won-myeong staggered in agony.
Seizing the opening, Manwang lunged forward and delivered a flurry of kicks to his face and chest.
Thud-thud-thud! Crash!
“Cough!”
The force of the blows sent Zhuge Won-myeong flying into the wall.
His body slid down the wall until he was slumped on the floor. Propping his upper body up against the wall with great effort, he managed to speak.
“How… could you?”
Manwang had been his guard for nearly twenty years. Furthermore, he had a clean background and no known ties to any other sect. His betrayal was a massive shock.
With an expressionless face, Manwang opened the wooden box in the secret chamber.
“So it was here.”
Manwang picked up the sword hilt. He tore away the talismans sealing it shut and drew the sword slightly.
Shring!
About a fifth of the blade was revealed. The blade itself was covered in talismans.
“This is the difference between the fake and the real one.”
The fakes didn't bother with talismans on the inside, but the real Blood Demon Sword had them plastered on the blade itself to suppress its demonic nature and sinister energy.
“Ugh!”
Even with the blade only slightly unsheathed, a wave of dizziness hit him. Feeling a sinister energy so cold it gave him goosebumps, Manwang hurriedly slammed the sword back into its scabbard.
It truly is a demonic sword.
He finally understood why they said it must never be drawn or coveted. The rumors that such an ominous weapon could devour one’s sanity seemed to be no lie.
Zhuge Won-myeong’s voice reached his ears.
“…Who instigated this? It couldn't have been the Blood Cult.”
“What makes you think that?”
“If the Blood Cult knew the Blood Demon Sword was here, they wouldn't have bothered with a diversionary tactic and explosives.”
“As expected of Strategist Zhuge’s insight.”
Manwang slowly approached him.
He gave a thin smile, which quickly turned into a snarl as he ground his foot into Zhuge Won-myeong’s wounded abdomen.
“Aaaargh.”
“With that brilliant mind of yours, why don't you guess who is pulling my strings?”
“Urgh… Why are you doing this?”
“Showing such weakness now? You’re losing your dignity as a strategist. If only you had looked around and taken care of those close to you, how much better would things have been?”
“What do you mean?”
“You intended to keep a man who stood by your side for twenty years as nothing more than a guard forever, yet you talked about grooming a boy you’ve barely met to be a strategist. Do you only see people as human if they come from prestigious martial families?”
Hearing the resentment in Manwang’s voice, Zhuge Won-myeong realized that this anger hadn't been built in a day or two.
Manwang said with a cruel smile, “I’ve waited for this day. The moment when you, who acts so clever as if you know everything in the world, are finally bewildered and suffering.”
Thud!
“Ack!”
Manwang kicked Zhuge Won-myeong in the jaw. He was genuinely enjoying the man’s agony.
As Zhuge Won-myeong spat out broken teeth and gasped for air, Manwang brandished the Blood Demon Sword before him.
“The Martial Alliance’s prestige will be in tatters once this disappears. To restore that prestige, you’ll have to clash with the Blood Cult with everything you’ve got. This is all thanks to you. I wonder how well you’ll fight this time, especially since Peerless Fortress won’t be helping you.”
At those words, Zhuge Won-myeong glared at him sharply.
“…Was it Peerless Fortress that moved you?”
Manwang simply laughed. It was an affirmation.
“If I had followed Peerless Fortress back then instead of you, I wouldn't have spent my youth wiping someone else’s backside.”
“So it was Peerless Fortress… I see. I see.”
“Knowing that won’t change your fate.”
Zhuge Won-myeong let out a dry chuckle.
“Do you know why I never employed you as anything more than a guard?”
“...?”
“First, your capacity is only that much. Second, what kind of great work can be done by a man who starts blabbering recklessly just because he thinks he has the upper hand?”
“You old fossil! Even at death’s door, you still—!”
Enraged, Manwang channeled his internal energy and stomped hard on Zhuge Won-myeong’s abdomen. Despite the agony of his internal organs being twisted by the sword wound, Zhuge Won-myeong’s gaze didn't waver as he spoke.
“Third!”
“What?”
“I trust no one.”
“!?”
P-p-p-p-pat!
“Gah!”
In that instant, something sharp burrowed into Manwang’s abdomen.
Feeling a searing pain, Manwang staggered back and looked down at his stomach. Zhuge Won-myeong was holding a small cylinder in his hand.
“T-This is…?”
“A gift to me from the Tang Family.”
It was the White Feather Fire Needle. Developed by the Tang Family, it was a weapon containing a small amount of gunpowder that used the recoil to fire a hundred needles like hidden projectiles.
“How long do you think you can survive after being hit by poison needles without circulating your energy or finding an antidote?”
Shh!
Zhuge Won-myeong aimed the White Feather Fire Needle at Manwang’s face.
“Damn it!”
Panicked, Manwang used the scabbard of the Blood Demon Sword to shield his face and hurriedly threw himself backward. Terrified by the mention of poison, he fled the room immediately.
Zhuge Won-myeong let out a sigh of relief and lowered his arm.
Fool… If a hidden weapon of this power could be fired multiple times, the entire landscape of the martial world would have changed.
It was a single-shot weapon powered by gunpowder. But it had been enough to deceive his opponent.
However, a clattering sound erupted from outside.
Soon, someone entered, silhouetted against the light from the doorway.
“You!”
It was So Woon-hwi. In his left hand, he held the Blood Demon Sword that Manwang had fled with.
Seeing this, Zhuge Won-myeong could neither laugh nor rejoice. There was no reason for So Woon-hwi, who had been given a different task, to appear here.
“I hope it isn't so…”
Stab!
“Cough!”
Before he could finish his sentence, a sword thrown from So Woon-hwi’s hand pierced his throat. With a blade through his neck, there was no way to survive.
[I am sorry. But of everyone here, you are the most troublesome.]
!!!
With that final sound transmission, So Woon-hwi left the secret chamber without a backward glance.
With a distorted face, Zhuge Won-myeong looked down at the sword embedded in his throat.
It was Manwang’s sword.
This way, no matter who discovered him, they would think it was the work of his guard, Manwang.
As his head slumped forward, his final thought flickered.
…As I thought… I wasn't wrong.
A single shred of possibility was never truly small.