Chapter 208
Chapter 208
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 208
Chapter Title: Refusal of Surrender
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‘Blood? No need?!’
Munyang could only assume he'd misheard for a moment.
He had never once imagined that his offer of surrender would be rejected outright.
As the situation veered into utterly unforeseen territory, his face flushed beet red with panic.
But Ibija continued to regard him with an icy, impassive expression.
"Exactly as I said—even if you surrender, we have no intention of accepting you. Why bother enduring the seed of future discord? Better to cut it out cleanly."
Munyang blurted out in desperation.
"I was deeply moved by the Divine Cult's doctrines and came here because of them, but I've lived in such a remote place that I had no way to make contact. Better late than never—let me pledge myself to the Cult now and be of service."
They say hidden power awakens only when death looms before your eyes.
It had been the same for Munyang before.
When he was expelled from the Jongnam Sect and faced the destruction of his dantian, he had tearfully begged and fervently defended himself, narrowly escaping that punishment.
And it was no different now.
To survive, Munyang's tongue flew, showering praise on the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult with every eloquent word at his disposal.
But there was one crucial difference.
Unlike before, his pleas fell on utterly deaf ears this time.
"What a glib three-inch tongue you have. Do you think a few words can erase the crimes you've committed?"
Ibija dismissed his appeals with an impenetrable wall of indifference.
He had always talked his way out of life's crises with clever words, but now that his silver tongue was failing him, he plunged into deep anguish.
A quick glance.
Seeing the dozens of arrows trained on him once more, Munyang wrestled with his dilemma and finally reached a decision.
He would reveal the secret he'd kept hidden all this time.
Stepping forward, he placed one hand over his chest and declared,
"I can offer great aid to the Divine Cult."
"What could the likes of you possibly provide?"
"I am..."
Gulp.
For the first time, he voiced the truth he'd concealed from everyone in Shin-gang—the secret he'd never breathed a word of.
"...a warrior who once served one of the Nine Great Orthodox Sects."
Whew—
Having spoken, Munyang felt a strange mix of worry and relief.
As a core member of the Murim Alliance—public enemy of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—his orthodox sect origins would surely invite brutal interrogation.
Yet at the same time, he felt a surge of reassurance that they would spare his life to extract every scrap of information on the Nine Great Orthodox Sects.
'Right, just survive for now. Even if it's pathetic, keep breathing and plan for the future...'
"We already knew that."
"...What?"
"We know you came from the Central Plains—and that your sect was Jongnam."
Munyang felt the sky crashing down on him.
How in the world!
He hadn't told a soul in Shin-gang!
Was this a bluff to test him? He stared piercingly into Ibija's eyes, but found not the slightest flicker of uncertainty.
"Curious how we found out, are you?"
Ibija promptly dropped something at his feet.
Thud!
Munyang's eyes widened at the sight.
There lay the Jongnam Sect's signature uniform, emblazoned with its emblem of unbroken mountain ranges.
"How did you—?!"
"You hid it well. Took some effort to find."
The day before, when dividing the squads and issuing orders, he had specifically instructed the third squad to search the man's quarters from top to bottom.
Finding traces hidden in one's surroundings.
It was a hunter's specialty, no less.
Ibija didn't know if the man had come to Shin-gang as a spy or been exiled or chased out.
But one thing he did know:
Those who leave their homeland almost always cling to some remnant of their roots—a memento from those days.
Sure enough, while ransacking the quarters, the squad noticed the floor beneath his bed had unusually little dust buildup. Prying it up revealed an empty space containing this uniform.
'So that's why a bandit obsessed over a uniform.'
It was the final link tying him to the Jongnam Sect and himself.
Even if he'd erased every other trace of his past, he could never have discarded this.
In the end, that attachment had buried him in a pit he couldn't escape.
Thump. Thump.
Munyang's heart pounded as his true identity was exposed.
If they knew he was from Jongnam, he could still bargain with related information.
"Then why refuse my surrender?"
Munyang asked with a stiffened face, and Ibija replied,
"How many warriors from the Nine Great Orthodox Sects do you think are locked away in our Cult's prison?"
"...!"
Munyang's pupils dilated.
Ibija added coldly in a flat tone,
"Whether a wretch like you spits up information or not makes no difference to the Cult's intelligence network. You're just a discarded disciple—nothing more, nothing less. Why keep a criminal alive?"
"Th-that can't...!"
Struck by words like a bolt from the blue, gooseflesh rippled across Munyang's body.
Hands planted on the ground, his ashen face trembled in terror.
Ibija looked down at him with emotionless eyes.
'It's over.'
In truth, most of what Ibija had said was a lie.
He was a recent arrival from the Central Plains himself and hadn't had the clearance to frequent the Heavenly Demon Palace long enough to know who or how many were in the prison.
What mattered wasn't the truth, but the atmosphere.
That's why he'd flatly declared to the possible spy that he was "abandoned."
The result: Munyang was utterly broken, staring death in the face.
And this was precisely the moment Ibija had been aiming for.
Trembling in fear, Munyang soon met his expectations.
"Please, just spare my life—please!"
"As I said before, there's no reason to let you live."
"I was once dispatched to the Murim Alliance."
Resigned to his fate, Munyang spilled everything without a thought of holding back.
"That's when I learned the locations of several secret branches the Alliance had built in Shin-gang. I'll tell you every detail—just please spare my life."
Munyang prostrated himself, forehead to the dirt, pleading desperately. Ibija silently looked down at him.
Finally, he ordered his squad.
"Take him away."
By psychologically cornering him, he'd forced out the final piece of information the man would never have revealed otherwise.
Whether to use that intel or discard it was no longer his concern.
Ibija and his squad's role ended with the capture and transport; the rest would be handled by other Cult organizations.
Hm.
Hyeok Mulin had watched the entire process of the squad subduing the North River Stronghold from a step away.
In the end, he summed up the three key strengths of Ibija's squad compared to the others.
First: the squad leader's flexibility.
Where Ji Wolhon overwhelmed foes with sheer force, Ibija actively drew his opponent into the stage he'd set.
He took everything there was to gain, leaving the enemy dancing in the palm of his hand from start to finish.
Second: proficiency in ranged attacks.
As archers by training, they could react a step faster when distance opened up.
Of course, this left them vulnerable up close, but that could be mitigated by training in close-quarters martial arts.
And third—the mastery of mountains.
Mountains existed everywhere under heaven, and these were their domain.
Perhaps from a lifetime traversing rugged peaks, the experience was etched into their very bones?
They were still only at the stage of learning lightness skills, yet their speed and precision in navigating mountains, tracking traces, and pursuing far outstripped any other squad.
Considering all this about Ibija's squad...
'Approved.'
As the second squad of the Heavenly Demon Army, Hyeok Mulin fully acknowledged them.
"Good call coming to see for myself."
He had been there when the first squad, the Divine Demon Blood Death Squad, carried out their inaugural mission.
You had to witness them in action firsthand to truly gauge those you'd entrust your back to.
"Time to head back."
"Yes, sir!"
At Ibija's words, the squad erupted in cheers that pierced the heavens.
Having flawlessly concluded their first mission, their confidence swelled, mingling with excited anticipation.
"Hope the Lord is pleased with the results."
"What could be more perfect? Don't worry needlessly."
"Does that mean we're officially Heavenly Demon Army now?"
Ibija's squad had occupied a vague position until now.
They existed within the Cult, but no one sought them out or bothered them.
Having safely completed the Lord's mission, it was natural to harbor hopes.
They recalled their days as lone hunters, faces still etched with disbelief.
"Heavenly Demon Army... It's overwhelming."
"Now I can visit home with my head held high."
"We should name the squad soon, too."
The suggestion drew nods of agreement.
"Couldn't agree more. Without a name, I don't even know how to introduce us."
"What would be good?"
"The Lord's squad is Divine Demon Blood Death Squad—how about Bow Demon Blood Death Squad for us?"
"The worst name I've heard lately. Leave naming your kids to your wife."
"Hmph, don't slander out of jealousy."
"Slander? I'm just calling a spade a spade."
"Heh, no need for lies...!"
Amid the good-natured banter, Ibija's squad fully dismantled the North River Stronghold and tidied up the area.
The funds stored in their warehouse were evenly divided and returned to the surrounding villages.
It wasn't a sum worth reclaiming for the Cult anyway—and it had been theirs to begin with.
"To receive such grace from the Cult..."
The locals wiped away tears, offering endless thanks.
With everything settled, Ibija led his squad and turned their steps homeward.
"Back to Heavenly Mountain."
At the fore with Ibija, they marched proudly back to Heavenly Mountain, chests thrust out.
And the moment the squad entered the Heavenly Demon Palace...
"The Lord permits entry to the Heavenly Demon Hall."
They were summoned to the Heavenly Demon Hall.