Chapter 206
Chapter 206
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 206
Chapter Title: Even with the Tiger Right Before You, You Think It's a Cat (3)
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The Xuan Dao Sect was a small faction rooted in the Daoist tradition, based on Jingang Mountain in Jiangxi Province.
Though it had only around three hundred disciples, every one of them was an elite with no exceptions, so no sect in the martial world dared ignore the Xuan Dao Sect.
The sect leader of the Xuan Dao Sect was Taeul the Perfected. This year, Taeul the Perfected turned eighty. By age and seniority alone, he held the highest standing among those gathered at the Sakju Branch.
Taeul the Perfected was not merely old. He possessed an ironclad sense of justice, always charging to the forefront whenever trouble arose in the martial world. It had been the same decades ago in the war against the Demonic Cult.
He had always fought on the front lines, shedding the most blood. And now, after decades, he was once again stepping up to lead the charge against the Demonic Cult. That was why so many people respected him.
"Having Taeul the Perfected with us puts our minds at ease."
"The Xuan Dao Sect is the true light of the martial world."
Those who recognized Taeul the Perfected and the Xuan Dao Sect offered greetings from all sides. Taeul the Perfected replied to each one with a genial smile.
"We will surely repel those vile Demonic Cult fiends and restore peace to the martial world. My Xuan Dao Sect and I will selflessly devote ourselves to the greater cause."
"Waaah!"
Taeul the Perfected's words drew cheers of support from the crowd.
Though he was known to be over eighty, he appeared no older than his mid-to-late fifties. Such was the depth of his profound internal energy.
Taeul the Perfected wore a bluish-green Daoist robe and a tall Daoist turban. At his waist hung an ornate sword more splendid than a typical Daoist's blade, especially striking for the pearl embedded in its hilt.
The pearl emitted a soft, iridescent glow of seven colors, lending it an air of profound mystery.
The sword was called the Southern Heaven Sword, the Xuan Dao Sect's sacred treasure. It was said that the Demonic Cultists felled by Taeul the Perfected wielding the Southern Heaven Sword numbered in the hundreds of thousands.
Taeul the Perfected and the Xuan Dao Sect Daoists took position in an empty clearing east of the Sakju Branch. There were no proper halls or quarters, but it was no issue for the Xuan Dao Sect Daoists.
As if well-practiced in such matters, they swiftly erected over twenty tents, fashioning suitable lodgings in short order.
Taeul the Perfected gave orders to his disciples.
"You've all done well. Rest for the day."
"Yes! Rest well, Sect Leader."
"Mm!"
Leaving the disciples' hearty responses behind, Taeul the Perfected entered his own tent.
The undecorated interior felt almost desolate, but Taeul the Perfected paid it no mind. He considered himself fortunate just to have a place to stretch out his legs and rest.
"The Demonic Cult... We should have eradicated them root and stem. That one shred of mercy has brought this catastrophe upon us."
Taeul the Perfected murmured, caressing the pearl set in the Southern Heaven Sword.
He had been one of the rare few warriors to breach the Demonic Cult's headquarters during the final battle decades ago. Thus, he knew better than anyone the horrors war could unleash.
"This time, we must tear out the Demonic Cult by the roots."
Taeul the Perfected gripped the Southern Heaven Sword with resolve.
***
The momentum atop Mount Hang was sharper than a blade. To be precise, the aura of the Demonic Cult warriors assembled there pierced the very heavens.
It hadn't been long since they'd lost the lifeless Sotcheon Mountain of the Ten Li Wastelands and hung their heads in defeat, yet now they had cast off all despair and burned with battle fervor.
Yum Yukyung felt the surging energy of the battlefield. Even now, Demonic Cult forces continued to pour into Mount Hang. Many among them were units even she didn't recognize.
"The Lord has steeled his resolve."
Yum Yukyung gave a slight shake of her head.
For a martial artist, bloodshed was an inescapable fate. Yet meaningless slaughter was something Yum Yukyung wished to avoid at all costs—that was her honest sentiment.
Masking her tangled thoughts, Yum Yukyung pressed on. Her destination was one of the Hang Mountain Sect's scriptoriums, which primarily housed their martial manuals. Little remained now; anything of value had already been looted.
The Hang Mountain Sect's techniques would soon be absorbed into the Demonic Cult, reborn as new signature arts. That was the Demonic Cult's path to strength—and the key to its survival.
Thud!
Yum Yukyung shut the scriptorium door.
A dreary pall hung over the ransacked hall.
Standing inside, Yum Yukyung scanned her surroundings. No signs of life. But she knew better.
"Come out."
Her quiet voice echoed softly through the scriptorium. No reply came.
Yum Yukyung spoke again.
"No one followed you, so come out."
"Saintess."
In that instant, a black-clad figure stepped from the shadows. Shrouded head to toe in black, its form was so ambiguous it could have been man or woman.
"Long time no see, Dark Sword."
Rather than words, Dark Sword dipped its head in salute. Through the mask, its eyes gleamed cold and emotionless, as if stripped bare of all feeling—an unsettling sight.
Dark Sword spoke.
"The Master bids you hurry. He says holding the Lord in check like this has reached its limit."
"Is that so?"
"Retrieve the sacred relic and proof of their meddling as swiftly as possible—before disaster strikes."
With that, Dark Sword fell silent.
"Urgh!"
A pained groan slipped from Yum Yukyung's lips.
Dark Sword's master was her greatest backer. It was thanks to him that she could move freely without restraint.
For him to speak with such gravity meant the situation was truly grave. He was never one for empty words.
"Tell him we're nearly there on the sacred relic—just a bit longer."
"Understood. Then..."
Dark Sword melted back into the shadows with a reply. Astonishing stealth, as always.
It was then, as Yum Yukyung let out a faint sigh and exited the scriptorium—
"Saintess."
A low voice suddenly called out.
Yum Yukyung startled, looking up to find a middle-aged man in a blue robe standing before the entrance.
His skin was ghostly pale, as if never touched by sun, setting off his deep black eyes all the more strikingly. He was a familiar face to Yum Yukyung.
Sang Hanchun, the Heavenly Water Sorcerer.
The Lord's closest confidant and the sharpest mind in the Demonic Cult. Those piercing eyes that seemed to bore into souls made many uneasy around Sang Hanchun—including Yum Yukyung.
"Strat... Strategist."
"What brings you to the Hang Mountain Sect's scriptorium?"
"Just checking if any worthwhile books were left."
"Ever the diligent Saintess, seeking knowledge even in a place like this."
Sang Hanchun smiled, flashing his teeth just a touch. The expression felt oddly chilling.
Yum Yukyung forced a composed face.
"And you, Strategist? This hardly seems your sort of place."
"I needed quarters for a short stay."
"You'll command the forces yourself?"
"The Lord wants the Sakju Branch taken swiftly. He's wary of the front stalling here."
"..."
"Once all troops converge, we'll launch a full offensive. Some preliminary steps first, of course."
Yum Yukyung's brow twitched at Sang Hanchun's words.
The man she knew wasn't one for idle chatter. Him rambling on like this set her on edge.
'Has he caught on?'
It seemed plausible.
Sang Hanchun's instincts were as keen as his intellect.
But Yum Yukyung wasn't one to falter. She wouldn't have risen to Saintess or faced endless perils if she were.
"I wish you success in all your endeavors, Strategist."
"My thanks, Saintess."
"Then..."
"Ah! Give my regards to Pavilion Lord Hu."
Yum Yukyung's face froze in that moment.
Sang Hanchun brushed past her with a smile. She stood frozen like a statue, watching him enter the scriptorium.
Thud!
The door shut, Sang Hanchun vanishing inside. Still, Yum Yukyung remained rooted for a long while.
***
The man's face contorted in agony.
"Hngh!"
"Bear it a little. Show some martial spirit if you're a warrior."
At Jongli Yeon's words, the man clenched his teeth through the pain. A smile curved her lips.
"There you go."
She swiftly smeared crushed herbs on his wound and bound it with clean cloth.
The man's tortured expression eased somewhat.
"Thank you, Physician."
"You bore it well."
Jongli Yeon patted his shoulder before moving to the next patient.
The Sakju Branch overflowed with the wounded, moaning from battle injuries against the Demonic Cult.
To those denied proper care, Jongli Yeon's arrival was sweet relief, like rain after endless drought.
Her exquisite medical arts snatched many from death's door. Yet even with her utmost, far too many slipped away.
Patients who might have survived had they reached her sooner—or received timely aid.
Jongli Yeon treated them while chiding herself for the delay. Word spread quickly: she was a living god of medicine. Countless now pinned their hopes on her.
The grueling work that began at dawn stretched into the late night.
"Haa!"
Only then could Jongli Yeon finally breathe. Sweat soaked her from head to toe, her face ashen. Exhaustion teetered on the edge.
Her legs dragged like lead weights. She stumbled forcing them forward.
"Careful."
Someone steadied her—Hae Sowol.
"Hae... Sister?"
"Don't push yourself, Jongli Sister."
"Th-thanks."
"No need."
Hae Sowol shook her head faintly. Jongli Yeon looked surprised. She seemed aloof at a distance, but up close, warmth shone through.
"I'll walk you to your quarters."
"I'm okay."
"You're spent. Can't even walk straight."
Hae Sowol eyed Jongli Yeon's quivering legs, barely holding her up.
Jongli Yeon gave an apologetic look.
"Then I'll impose. Thank you."
"Nothing to thank. You're worn out from saving folks here."
"It's my duty. I'm a physician."
"Plenty shirk their duty. The martial world isn't full of Jongli Sisters. If it were, things wouldn't be this chaotic."
Hae Sowol's words held layers of meaning.
In recent months, she'd grown by leaps. No longer just a powerhouse in cultivation, but matured in spirit too.
War reshaped countless lives.
Hae Sowol's was no different. Two battles, great and small, had shattered and reforged her outlook. Her voice carried that depth.
"Hae... Sister?"
"Shh!"
Hae Sowol suddenly hushed her. Sensing danger, Jongli Yeon went silent.
Hae Sowol's gaze pierced the dark. Her eyes sharpened like never before.
"Jongli Sister."
"Yes?"
"Intruders."
"What?"
"Moving on the annex."
Jongli Yeon's face went rigid.
Damho and Perfected Hyeonso were in the annex.
"Hurry."
Hae Sowol took the lead.