Whispers of the Demonic Sword
Although they had slain the village chief and the demonic practitioner who had mastered the Blood-Sucking Demonic Art, the four of them could not leave immediately.
They needed time to report the situation to the nearest branch of the Beggars' Sect and receive their next orders from the Sichuan Alliance.
After leaving the aftermath of Cheongmyo Village in the hands of Ha Tae-gun, who had arrived the previous night, the four set off once more.
Even as they constantly subdued the demonic practitioners that plagued the surrounding areas, they kept moving forward without rest.
Over the next fortnight, a staggering number of demonic practitioners fell by their hands.
Thud!
"This is the first time in my life I've ever seen so many demonic practitioners in one place," Dang Hwa-soo muttered, collapsing onto the ground.
He was no stranger to fighting demonic entities.
Though constantly overshadowed by his sister, Dang Hwa-young, he was still a formidable master who had reached the Transcendental Realm.
Since demonic practitioners had frequently ravaged Sichuan until just a year ago, he had been quite confident in his demon-hunting abilities.
Yet, hunting them relentlessly for over a fortnight had taken a severe physical and mental toll on him.
The same was true for everyone in the group—except Yoo Sung.
Gulp, gulp!
Late into the night, the four sat around a crackling fire, washing down their simple rations with cheap alcohol.
As they warmed themselves against the biting wind, Ho-sung spoke up.
"What exactly is the alliance's true goal?"
"To hunt down the demonic practitioners plaguing Sichuan, of course," Dang Hwa-young replied.
Ho-sung shook his head.
"I know that, and so does everyone else in the Jianghu. I'm asking about what the alliance is actually after."
Yoo Sung was also curious about this.
Over the past two weeks, they had slain an absurd number of demonic practitioners.
He had known that many of them were gathering in Sichuan, but the sheer volume exceeded all expectations.
It had barely been a year since the end of the Great Martial War against Matian, a conflict that had ravaged the land for over a century.
In the aftermath, martial artists of both the Orthodox sects and the Unorthodox Path had worked tirelessly to purge every remaining trace of the demonic.
Knowing this better than anyone, Yoo Sung found the sheer density of demonic practitioners in Sichuan highly suspicious.
'The strange thing is, though they seem disorganized, they are clearly moving with a singular purpose.'
Normally, a demonic practitioner's sole focus was to gain power.
They risked their lives and sanity to master demonic arts for the sole purpose of obtaining rapid, overwhelming strength.
That was why people still turned to the demonic path, even when the entire world hunted them down in the wake of the Great War.
Yet, the behavior of the demonic practitioners in Sichuan was bizarre.
Rather than seeking power, they seemed to be desperately searching for something.
"Damn it! We've been played!"
"Son of a bitch... No wonder they spilled it so easily!"
Yoo Sung recalled the dying laments of the demonic practitioners he had slain.
Unlike the mindless beasts driven mad by incomplete arts, these men had retained their sanity while wielding their demonic power.
And despite the crudeness of their techniques, they were remarkably strong.
'They clearly belong to an organized faction. But how could a demonic sect possibly operate in Sichuan?'
No matter how powerful Matian had once been, Sichuan was a stronghold of the Orthodox faction.
The region was dominated by the Tang Clan and the Diancang Sect, both pillars of the Orthodox path.
The Tang Clan was notorious for being the most venomous of vipers, and the sword-devils of the Diancang Sect never compromised when it came to their own interests.
'Even if the Tang Clan turned a blind eye, there is no way the sword-devils of Diancang would allow demonic practitioners to roam free.'
Indeed, rumor had it that the Diancang Sect, rather than the Tang Clan, was the driving force behind the Sichuan Alliance.
This made the demonic practitioners they had encountered a few days ago all the more intriguing.
Ho-sung seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
"Do you remember those bastards we fought a few days ago? The ones who kept babbling about searching for something."
"..."
At his words, the Tang siblings visibly stiffened.
Seeing their reaction, Yoo Sung's eyes narrowed, while Ho-sung's gaze turned cold.
"Aren't we supposed to be allies?" Ho-sung said, his tone dropping to a low, dangerous register. "I hope you aren't trying to use us. We've been patient because you are our mistress's niece and nephew, but if you keep playing us for fools, I won't stand for it."
Feeling the oppressive weight of Ho-sung's aura, Dang Hwa-young let out a heavy sigh.
"To be precise, the Sichuan Alliance has two objectives," she admitted. "The first is the eradication of the demonic practitioners plaguing the province."
"That much is obvious," Ho-sung grunted.
"The second is a certain treasure that these demonic practitioners have entered Sichuan to find."
"A treasure?"
"We don't know its exact name. We only know that it was a relic once possessed by Matian itself."
"And even the Beggars' Sect doesn't know what it is?" Ho-sung asked skeptically.
To Ho-sung's knowledge, the Beggars' Sect possessed the most formidable intelligence network in the entire Jianghu.
Surely, with eyes and ears in every corner of the land, the beggars would have uncovered such a secret.
"They are close to finding out, but we must tread carefully," Dang Hwa-soo interjected. "A single hasty move could result in a fatal blunder, and we might end up handing the prize straight to the enemy."
Hearing Dang Hwa-soo's serious response, Ho-sung finally reined in his hostile aura.
"Forgive my rudeness."
"No, it is we who should apologize," Dang Hwa-young said softly. Then she turned to Yoo Sung. "I'm sorry, cousin."
"It's fine. I understand," Yoo Sung replied calmly.
But beneath his placid exterior, Dang Hwa-young's words had triggered a memory.
'Could they be looking for that?'
If that legendary object was indeed the reason behind the demonic practitioners' movements, then everything made perfect sense.
If it was that sword, it would explain why the Three Demonic Wanderers had risked their lives to enter Sichuan.
'It certainly did vanish somewhere near this region.'
Yoo Sung fell deep into thought as he traced the history of the legendary blade.
If his memory served him correctly, the sword's resting place was not far from where they stood.
Tap.
The reports pouring in from all directions caused the beautiful woman to furrow her delicate brow.
"How is it that every single report brings nothing but ill tidings?"
Her soft murmur carried a chilling weight that suffocated everyone gathered in the room.
"Forgive us, Lady Mi-ho."
Yeo Mi-ho.
She was the successor of the Yeo Clan, one of the Ten Demonic Gates that had once ruled the world under the banner of Matian.
And right now, the news coming out of Sichuan had displeased her greatly.
"You still haven't located the Three Demonic Wanderers?"
"We have no excuses, my lady."
Yeo Mi-ho clicked her tongue at the middle-aged man who bowed his head in shame once again.
"I am deeply disappointed in you, Pavilion Master. Did you not assure me that you had Sichuan completely under your control?"
It was a colossal blunder, and the pavilion master knew he had no defense.
What the Three Demonic Wanderers had stolen was the map detailing the location of the Talhon Sword—one of the legendary divine weapons once guarded by Matian.
"If those bastards fled all the way to Sichuan, then the Talhon Sword must be hidden somewhere in that province."
The sudden disappearance of the Three Demonic Wanderers had thrown all of Sichuan into a frenzy.
"And those Sichuan fools... their target must be the Talhon Sword as well, correct?"
"Undoubtedly, my lady. Why else would those hypocrites suddenly band together and start tearing the province apart?"
Yeo Mi-ho sneered.
"They have always been a sly, insidious bunch. If they were openly wicked like the Unorthodox Path, they wouldn't be half as disgusting."
"That is their so-called pride and dignity, my lady. They believe they are noble and righteous, unlike us 'demons.' Yet, their greed knows no bounds. They simply wrap their avarice in the guise of justice to show off to the world."
"What a load of rubbish. At the end of the day, they are just butchers who spill blood like the rest of us."
Their arrogance and hypocrisy, their desperate need to believe they were superior, was utterly nauseating.
"No wonder they writhed in agony under Matian's flames for so long. Honestly, Matian should have just burned the entire Jianghu to ashes before vanishing."
As she muttered with a look of genuine regret, Yeo Mi-ho's eyes began to glow with a sinister crimson light.
The Yeoyi Divine Art.
Though called a "divine art," it was in truth a vicious, top-tier demonic technique.
The Ten Demonic Gates had risen to their legendary status by mastering the supreme demonic arts bestowed upon them by Matian.
The lords of the Ten Gates, recognized by the Demon Emperor himself, had each received a supreme demonic art on par with the Yeoyi Divine Art.
These were perfected techniques, completely purged of the instability and madness that plagued lesser demonic arts.
Unfortunately, Yeo Mi-ho had not yet acquired the latter half of the Yeoyi Divine Art.
No matter how vast her demonic energy or how brilliant her talent, an art without its completion was merely a half-measure.
Without the final forms to channel and contain that power, she was incomplete.
Since the latter half of the Yeoyi Divine Art remained elusive, she had set her sights on a weapon that could compensate for her deficiency.
If she could only lay her hands on the Demonic Sword—the legendary blade capable of elevating a mere first-rate practitioner straight to the Demonic Liberation Realm—her future would be unstoppable.
Unfortunately, even that plan was currently hitting a wall.
"The Demon Flower is missing, and you can't even track down those North Sea rats. What on earth are you people actually doing?"
"..."
As the crimson glow in Yeo Mi-ho's eyes intensified, the subordinates quickly averted their gazes, trembling.
If the backlash of her incomplete Yeoyi Divine Art flared up here, at least half of the people in this room would not leave alive.
They could only pray that her madness would remain dormant today.
"I will give you fifteen days," Yeo Mi-ho said, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. "Bring me one of three things: the location of the Talhon Sword, the whereabouts of the Demon Flower, or the latter half of the Yeoyi Divine Art. If you succeed in bringing even one, I will overlook your failures. But if you return empty-handed... prepare yourselves. Every single one of you in this room will become a blood sacrifice to my art."
The sheer madness laced in her quiet voice forced everyone to bow their heads in terror.
Yeo Mi-ho, the successor of the Yeo Clan.
She was a madwoman who wielded demonic power with terrifying precision.
The four travelers eventually stepped into the territory of the White Wolf Fort.
"Bwahahaha!"
"Halt, you bastards!"
The outlaws of the White Wolf Fort blocked the path of anyone crossing their territory, demanding exorbitant tolls.
Most merchant guilds simply paid the toll to avoid trouble.
Those who refused were brutally slaughtered, earning the White Wolf Fort a terrifying reputation throughout the region.
Watching their arrogant behavior from afar, Yoo Sung felt a pang of curiosity.
Why did the Sichuan Alliance, with its immense pride and righteous claims, leave a plague like the White Wolf Fort completely untouched?
"Why does the Sichuan Alliance tolerate the existence of the White Wolf Fort?" Yoo Sung asked.
Although the White Wolf Fort was the largest bandit clan in Sichuan, the alliance could easily have wiped them out if they truly wished to.
Why leave them be when they could have been eradicated long ago?
"Because up until last year, they were useful," Dang Hwa-young explained.
"Ah. They were meat shields."
At her brief explanation, Yoo Sung instantly understood the fort's utility.
During the grueling war against Matian, the Sichuan Alliance had possessed neither the time nor the resources to deal with minor nuisances.
They had needed a buffer to absorb the attacks of Matian's low-level grunts, and the White Wolf Fort had served as that very shield.
Though they were mere bandits, their sheer numbers made them highly effective at dealing with the scattered demonic remnants fleeing from the war.
But that was last year.
Now that Matian had been dismantled, the bandits were nothing more than an eyesore.
"They've become a useless nuisance."
"Exactly. We spared them out of necessity, but now their existence is just awkward."
If they wiped out the bandits immediately, the alliance would have to deploy their own forces to police the territories the bandits once controlled.
Of course, this was a problem that could be easily resolved.
'Ambitious sects would gladly risk their lives to claim those territories. Especially now, with the demonic forces weakened, they would view this as a golden opportunity to expand their influence.'
And the prime candidate eager to seize such an opportunity was Cheondo Gate.
Indeed, Cheondo Gate had been exceptionally proactive within the Sichuan Alliance of late.
They were so aggressive that rumors of their exploits were echoing across every corner of the province.
Even those who had previously looked down on Cheondo Gate's greedy nature could not help but marvel at their sudden display of martial prowess.
And there was one merchant guild actively backing Cheondo Gate's ambitions.
'To think that Cheondo Gate and the Cheonhyang Merchant Guild would join hands.'
This was despite the fact that Ha Tae-gun had already married the daughter of the Heavenly Sword Academy.
Yet, his rival sibling, Ha Tae-young, was currently in deep marriage negotiations with Kwak Young, the successor of Cheondo Gate.
Under normal circumstances, the rest of the Jianghu would have mocked both the guild and the sect for such blatant political maneuvering.
But with Cheondo Gate displaying such unexpected strength, the situation had transformed into a highly entertaining spectacle.
'Their petty inferiority complex has dragged on for generations. It is about time to put an end to it.'
Though he was biding his time due to a lack of a proper pretext, Yoo Sung was certain that Cheondo Gate's blades would eventually turn toward the Heavenly Sword Academy.
The deep-seated jealousy Cheondo Gate harbored toward his family was a powder keg waiting to explode.
In fact, Yoo Sung was secretly hoping they would make a move soon.
For his clan to rise to its rightful place, he needed to sweep away all the annoying obstacles in their path.
It would be the perfect opportunity to sever the ill fate that had begun with the romantic entanglements of his father and older brother.
Putting the matters of Cheondo Gate and the Cheonhyang Merchant Guild aside for now, Yoo Sung focused on the present.
"So, are we just going to leave the White Wolf Fort alone?"
"No, they will likely be dealt with soon," Dang Hwa-young replied. "The White Wolf Fort has been crossing the line far too often lately."
"I see."
"Besides..." Dang Hwa-young paused, her eyes narrowing. "Something is strange here."
She grimaced as a faint, foul scent of demonic energy pricked her nose.
Deep within the territory of the White Wolf Fort, a dense demonic aura was making its presence known.
Was it a mere coincidence, or was there a deeper reason?
"Let's move," Dang Hwa-young whispered, gripping her sword. "There are demonic practitioners nearby."
At this moment, none of them knew that this very step would mark the beginning of what history would later record as the Sichuan Bloodbath.