Chasing the Deer of the Central Plains
Since ancient times, whenever the world fell into chaos, a certain kind of group would always emerge. They were factions that grew in power by deceiving the suffering masses. Because they misled the people and sowed discord, the Imperial Court branded them as heretical cults.
Thus, they were called the Demonic Cults. Such was the case with the Way of Peace led by Zhang Jue during the Yellow Turban Rebellion, the Blood Spirit Sect, and most recently, the Sun Moon Sect.
Yet, when the Murim spoke of the "Demonic Cult," they referred to a specific group far away in the Heavenly Mountains. They called themselves the Heavenly Martial Cult of Diligent Refinement.
It was a gathering of martial maniacs who revered their leader, the Heavenly Demon, as the deputy of God, dedicating their relentless training to the divine. To survive the harsh environment of the Heavenly Mountains, they abided by the law of the jungle—survival of the fittest—honing their martial arts with a cruelty that made even the unorthodox sects shudder. Whenever they descended into the Central Plains, they brought a storm of blood in their wake, which was how they earned the name "Demonic Cult."
And yet, a faction of the Heavenly Mountain Demonic Cult was here in Hangzhou? Having heard of the Demonic Cult until his ears bled, Yoo Jeong could not hide his skepticism.
"Is that even possible?"
The Demonic Cult was located in Xinjiang, far to the west. There were those who acted as a breakwater to block their invasion.
"We have received no word from the Kunlun Sect, let alone the Jade Gate Pass," Hwayeolluju said.
"Why is that?"
"It seems they took advantage of the distraction. Armed conflicts have been escalating between the Blood Wheel Death Sand Wind of Urumqi and the Iron-Blooded Asura Squad of the Demonic Cult's Outer Hall. With everyone's eyes fixed on that conflict, a small group managed to slip through unnoticed, unlike their usual large-scale movements."
The Outer Hall. I've heard of them. No matter how crazed those fanatics were about training in the isolated Heavenly Mountains, it was still a place where humans lived. They needed to interact with the outside world, which was why the Demonic Cult was split into two branches to handle these affairs.
Those who focused solely on martial training to remain faithful to their religious doctrines were called the Inner Cult, while those who projected their power outward and handled external affairs were called the Outer Hall. The Iron-Blooded Asura Squad was the premier force representing the Outer Hall.
The Blood Wheel Death Sand Wind was also no ordinary band of bandits; they possessed formidable strength. If the two clashed, the aftershocks would be immense. It was only natural that all eyes were drawn there.
"The real question is why the Demonic Cult is moving in such small numbers, contrary to their past behavior."
Historically, the Demonic Cult's incursions into the Murim were massive affairs—all-out wars that even mobilized the Inner Cult. Even when that wasn't the case, the majority of the Outer Hall would march. A stealthy infiltration by a mere handful of operatives, rather than an entire combat unit, was highly unusual.
"This humble one believes they have a specific objective they wish to handle with the utmost secrecy. Uncharacteristic of the Demonic Cult, they have gone to great lengths to conceal their martial arts, hide their identities, and erase their tracks."
However, erasing one's tracks required a high level of expertise. They were not professionals at stealth, whereas the Haomen possessed master trackers. That difference was what ultimately allowed the Haomen to catch their tail.
"And you are saying their target is the Divine Physician?"
"Indeed. Though I do not know why they seek him. Perhaps there is a patient of great importance within the Demonic Cult?"
Offering a playful remark, the mistress adjusted her posture. A mere inch. It was a negligible distance, but every time she shifted, she crept slightly closer to Yoo Jeong. Before he knew it, she was sitting so close their shoulders almost brushed. Yoo Jeong spoke in a low, quiet voice.
"Please step back."
"Oh my. How did we end up so close? This humble one was far too forward with a distinguished martial artist like yourself. I apologize if I have offended you."
Feigning ignorance as if she hadn't realized what she was doing, the mistress slid back to her original spot. Not a trace of regret could be seen on her face.
"May this humble one continue?"
He simply nodded instead of answering. He feared that if he spoke, his composure might waver again. The fragrance wafting from her pure yet mature body was like a masterfully executed martial technique, constantly testing Yoo Jeong's resolve. Although he had steeled his heart after revealing his master's identity and was trying to remain strictly professional, it was a difficult battle.
"The Demonic Cult is one of the reasons why this humble one and the Haomen have been unable to find the Divine Physician. Countless families of our members have fallen victim to them."
As she spoke, the mistress seemed like an entirely different person from the smiling woman of a moment ago. Her eyes trembled with sorrow. Her pathetic, sorrowful gaze—resembling a doe cornered by hunters—and her grief-laden voice made him realize why tears were a woman's most potent weapon.
Feeling a sudden tightness in his throat, Yoo Jeong took a small sip of the Longjing tea before him. He had been warily watching it out of suspicion of poison, but his throat felt so parched that he felt compelled to drink something, if only a drop. He did so only after thoroughly preparing his body with the Cheongwang Muae Singong.
"Really now. This humble one is not so uncultured as to poison a guest. How cold of you."
"*Cough.*"
"Oh, it was only a joke."
"So, is what you want from me revenge?"
"To be completely honest, yes. It is. Our strength alone is insufficient, and our casualties will only continue to mount. Yet, we cannot simply give up on the Divine Physician either."
Yoo Jeong's finger traced the rim of the porcelain teacup. In the end, her proposal boiled down to one thing: cooperation. She wants me to eliminate the Demonic Cult to exact their revenge and prevent future casualties. In exchange, they will locate the Divine Physician and share his whereabouts with me.
If the Demonic Cult was truly pursuing the Divine Physician, a clash was inevitable. For Yoo Jeong, there was no reason to refuse the offer. The only thing that gave him pause was whether the Haomen's motives for finding the Divine Physician were truly benevolent. When Yoo Jeong hesitated to give an immediate answer, Hwayeolluju subtly nudged him.
"Ah, by the way. This humble one has already dispatched some people to your companions as well..."
Before she could even finish her sentence, the air in the room shifted. An oppressive pressure that choked the breath from her lungs filled the space, causing the mistress's eyes to widen in shock. The moment she mentioned his companions, Yoo Jeong's aura underwent a terrifying transformation. The teacup he had been idling with crumbled into fine powder.
"Are you trying to threaten me by bringing up my companions?"
"Ugh... This humble one... meant no harm... *gasp*... My lord..."
"You claimed you developed an eye for the strong in order to survive."
Rising slowly from his seat, Yoo Jeong looked down at the mistress with eyes as cold as ice. "Then..." In that split second, a flash of light gleamed. "...why..." *Crash! Thud.* Two guards lunged at Yoo Jeong. Having watched from the ceiling, they were subdued in an instant, collapsing to the floor before they could even make a move. "...do you not know how to behave in front of one?"
Hong, one of the Twin Serpents of Blue and Red who served as Hwayeolluju's maid and bodyguard, was utterly astounded by the scene unfolding before her eyes. I couldn't even see him move. Though she was considered one of the top experts in the Haomen, the opponent's skill far surpassed her own.
Although the hidden guards protecting Hwayeolluju were only First-class experts in terms of martial cultivation, even Hong acknowledged their stealth and swift swordplay. Yet, he had subdued two such experts without even drawing his sword. As expected of the Sword Empress's disciple. He was not an opponent to be taken lightly. Though she didn't understand why he was so furiously enraged, she could not stand by and watch Hwayeolluju be threatened.
Hong's gaze shifted to her younger twin sister, Cheong, who stood opposite her. With a single glance, they communicated volumes. It was a feat made possible by their twin bond and years of training in combined combat tactics. In an instant, they moved in perfect, seamless unison, as if a single mind were controlling two bodies. Iron claws, previously concealed within their wide sleeves, slid out, swinging with enough force to tear their opponent to shreds.
A chilling gaze locked onto her. Yoo Jeong flicked his wrist and opened his palm. He clearly had no intention of drawing his sword. How dare you look down on us like this! Suppressing her rising anger, she unleashed her signature technique, the Soul-Shattering Remnant Claw. It was a devastating martial art capable of tearing not just flesh, but solid rock to shreds like paper.
A vicious claw technique designed to shred flesh and shatter bone, tearing through solid rock as if it were mere paper.
Yet, her opponent did not retreat. Instead, he took a bold step forward, extending his palm. Since the iron claws had a decent reach, his intention was likely to close the distance and neutralize her attack. But she was not alone. Suddenly, Yoo Jeong's body jerked to a halt. Cheong, standing behind him, had thrown a chain that wrapped tightly around his right wrist and left ankle, binding his movements.
Forged from ink-iron, the heavy, solid chain was a specialized weapon that could not be severed unless struck by refined sword qi. Cheong's Eight Shadows Chain Binding was a technique capable of pinning down even a rampaging bull. Indeed, Cheong had successfully halted Yoo Jeong's advance, and she immediately pulled with all her might to throw him off balance.
An inescapable binding technique utilizing heavy ink-iron chains to lock down the opponent's limbs and shatter their balance.
However... "Ha!" Her opponent was neither a bull nor a boulder. Pulling back his chain-bound right arm, Yoo Jeong instantly regained control and swung his arm in a wide arc. It was a massive circular motion reminiscent of Tai Chi. Of course, this was no mere shoulder-loosening exercise.
*Clatter!* The thick black chain wound around Hong's iron claws. Hong panicked as the chain, far heavier and sturdier than her claws, entangled her weapon. With her weapon neutralized, she had to either let go of the claws and retreat, or channel her internal energy through the claws to shatter the chain. Choosing the former meant losing her weapon, while the latter would render the binding on Yoo Jeong's arm meaningless.
What do I do? Her hesitation did not last long. To be precise, Yoo Jeong forced her to stop thinking. The chain binding her claws was still wrapped around Yoo Jeong's wrist. With a sharp yank inward, Hong lost her balance and was dragged toward him.
*Thud!* Utilizing the rotational momentum, Yoo Jeong leaped into the air, spun his body, and delivered a devastating kick directly to Hong's back. But his assault did not end there. Ever since she had channeled her internal energy, Cheong had been desperately struggling to maintain her grip on the chains binding Yoo Jeong's wrist and ankle. However, when Yoo Jeong spun his body with an immense surge of internal energy, she had no choice but to be dragged along unless she let go of the chains.
True to her twin nature, Cheong failed to make a decisive choice, just like her sister. *Whoosh.* Dragged forward before she could even register what was happening, she met Yoo Jeong's palm as it pressed against her chest. Unlike the forceful kick he had delivered to Hong, this strike seemed as light as a feather, gently resting on her chest.
"Argh!" A spray of dark blood erupted from Cheong's mouth. It was a penetrating strike. Since he had no intention of taking her life, he had held back his strength. Even so, it was more than powerful enough to rattle her internal organs and inflict severe internal injuries. It was the manifestation of two distinct martial arts: the footwork of the Heavenly Sword Style passed down from the Wuzong Sect, Strolling Immortal Foot, and the palm technique passed down from the North Sea Ice Palace to the Sword Empress, and subsequently to Yoo Jeong, the Ice White Palm: Accumulating Snow Can Overpower.
A sublime footwork technique of the Heavenly Sword Style, allowing the practitioner to move with the effortless grace of an immortal strolling through the clouds.
A freezing palm strike passed down from the North Sea Ice Palace. Like falling snow that gradually accumulates to crush the sturdiest branches, its biting frost energy penetrates deep into the opponent's body, freezing their internal organs.
"Even if you raise your realm by relying on external energy, specialized weapons, and spiritual elixirs, without the combat experience to back it up, it is nothing but a hollow shell."
Having effortlessly subdued two Peak Experts, Yoo Jeong approached Hwayeolluju, who was staring at him in a daze, and leaned in close. She had crossed a line. She should never have brought up his companions—his master.
Looking at her face, which was now a chaotic mix of bewilderment, terror, and sorrow, Yoo Jeong warned her. "Placing the weights on the scale is a privilege reserved only for the strong."
The mistress nodded with trembling eyes. As he stood before her, he reached down to set an overturned chair upright. At that exact moment—
"Mistress, the guests you invited have arri—wh-what in the world is going on here?!"
"Jeong-ah!"
A voice he never expected to hear echoed through the room.