Chapter 231
Chapter 231
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 231
Chapter Title: The Tower Carefully Built Crumbles in an Instant (3)
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231
Chapter 231 Part 2.
The Sakju Branch was no longer part of the Murim Alliance. It had become a sub-branch of the Demonic Cult.
The Demonic Cult warriors entered the Sakju Branch with bold strides.
Several days had passed since the fierce battle ended, but traces of that day still lingered vividly in the Sakju Branch.
Collapsed and charred buildings. Half-ruined walls. And pitch-black bloodstains on the walls and floors. The bodies had all been cleared away, but the thick stench of blood still hung in the air. As a result, the Demonic Cult warriors entering the branch had to cover their noses.
When people thought of the Demonic Cult, they usually pictured bloodthirsty madmen. But they were human, just like anyone else. It was only that their faith was unconventional, and the world's rejection had made them more aggressive.
A man muttered while gazing at the ruined buildings.
"Tch! In the end, all the real prizes escaped, and we're just taking over the empty shell?"
The blood-red warrior with three swords strapped to his back was none other than Deung Cheon-so.
Even several days after the battle, his face still brimmed with murderous intent. His ferocious aura was so intimidating that even fellow Demonic Cult warriors dared not approach him.
His target, Dam-ho, was gone, and he hadn't even crossed swords with Sword Sage Hyun-geom. He'd vented his rage on other warriors, but it hadn't improved his mood.
At that moment, someone cautiously approached Deung Cheon-so.
"Elder Deung."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Yi So-gwang from the Strategist's Office."
"Strategist's Office?"
Deung Cheon-so furrowed his brow as he eyed the man who had introduced himself as Yi So-gwang.
The Strategist's Office was the organization headed by Strategist Sang Han-cheon. Everything about it—from its members to its operations—was shrouded in an iron curtain of secrecy. Aside from the Cult Leader and Sang Han-cheon himself, no one knew its true nature.
That included Deung Cheon-so, one of the Seven Great Demons. That's why the mere mention of the Strategist's Office soured his mood.
"What do you want?"
"The Strategist has summoned all the leadership. He instructed me to bring you as well, Elder Deung."
"Right now?"
"Yes."
Yi So-gwang's response didn't sit well, but Deung Cheon-so couldn't defy the Strategist's orders.
"Lead the way."
"Yes!"
Yi So-gwang took the lead, with Deung Cheon-so following behind.
They arrived at the largest audience hall in the Sakju Branch—the very place where the Murim Alliance leadership had once held their meetings, now repurposed by the Demonic Cult.
"What the hel—"
Deung Cheon-so started to bellow the moment he entered but clamped his mouth shut. The atmosphere inside was far from ordinary.
Inside were Strategist Sang Han-cheon, along with Jin Hye-won and Dan Ho-sang of the Seven Great Demons. They stood with lips tightly pressed, staring at the center of the room.
Naturally, Deung Cheon-so's gaze followed theirs. On the large table in the middle of the room lay an elongated object draped in white cloth.
Deung Cheon-so asked Sang Han-cheon.
"What is this?"
"See for yourself."
At Sang Han-cheon's reply, Deung Cheon-so pulled back the white cloth. In that instant, his face hardened.
"Jo... Ja-kyeong."
The corpse beneath the cloth was Beoncheon Captain Jo Ja-kyeong, a man Deung Cheon-so knew well.
"Even Captain Jo is dead?"
Deung Cheon-so's eyes darkened deeply.
Among the young warriors of his generation, Beoncheon Captain Jo Ja-kyeong possessed unmatched martial prowess.
For now, the Four Great Armies and Seven Great Demons formed the backbone of the Demonic Cult. But everyone believed that in time, the leadership would naturally shift to young talents like Jo Ja-kyeong.
The expectations placed on him were immense, and Jo Ja-kyeong had never betrayed them, leading Beoncheon Squad admirably. His relationship with Deung Cheon-so wasn't bad either, making his death hit even harder.
"Tch! What a waste. He was still useful."
Deung Cheon-so clicked his tongue.
He regretted the loss, but it didn't shake him deeply.
The Demonic Cult had plenty of young warriors—and talent to match. One of them would fill Jo Ja-kyeong's vacancy.
Deung Cheon-so turned his gaze to Sang Han-cheon.
"Did you call us to show us Captain Jo's body?"
"......"
"There's plenty of work to do, no need for this pointless—"
"It's not pointless."
"What?"
"He..."
Thung!
The air trembled in an instant.
Like ripples spreading across a pond from a dropped pebble, the vibration expanded throughout the hall.
Everything froze.
The warriors guarding outside the hall. The leadership inside.
"What is this?"
Deung Cheon-so's face changed.
A chill ran up his spine, goosebumps crawling over his skin. His entire body stiffened, as if invisible threads had bound him tight, refusing to let him move.
The others fared no better.
That's when Sang Han-cheon closed his eyes slightly and spoke.
"You've arrived."
In that moment, a gentle breeze accompanied the hall's doors swinging wide open. And he stepped inside.
An elderly man with an otherworldly air, his hair as white as fresh snow. The white-haired elder entered with a straight back, relaxed shoulders, and steps flowing like water.
The moment the elder entered, everything changed.
The air in the hall, the atmosphere, even people's breaths.
The already frigid air grew colder and more menacing, as if the air itself had turned hostile.
No one in the room dared breathe. A deep breath felt like it would let the hostile air shred their lungs.
Deung Cheon-so and the other Seven Great Demons' pupils trembled. They prided themselves as absolute masters leading the era, yet before this unknown elder, they felt themselves shrinking.
The elder's presence was that overwhelming.
'Who the hell is that old man?'
'Does our cult even have an expert like him?'
Only Sang Han-cheon kept his gaze steady. The rest couldn't even guess the elder's identity.
The elder looked at Jo Ja-kyeong beneath the white cloth. Deep shadows hung under his eyes.
"Ja... kyeong-ah."
The moment the elder's voice, laced with regret, slipped through his lips, everyone in the hall felt their spirits plummet.
The elder reached out and caressed Jo Ja-kyeong's face.
Feeling the ice-cold temperature confirmed it. Jo Ja-kyeong was no longer of this world.
The elder's gaze turned to Sang Han-cheon.
"Han-cheon."
"Yes! Elder. Speak."
Sang Han-cheon bowed his head in response. Everyone was stunned by his demeanor. It was the first time they'd seen him show such extreme reverence to anyone besides the Cult Leader.
Even Sang Han-cheon's downcast eyes held complex emotions.
The man before him was a double-edged sword.
His supreme martial might was so formidable even the Cult Leader approached him warily, but his unpredictable, free-spirited nature burdened everyone.
'Cheon O-gyeong... Master of the War Sword Style, one of the Thirteen Branches. The Thirteen Branches' movements hinge on whatever decision he makes.'
"How did this happen?"
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want your apology. I want the reason. What happened?"
"We fought warriors from the Hundred Battles Sect. And we lost."
"Hoo... Hundred Battles Sect..."
Cheon O-gyeong let out a deep sigh as he gazed at his disciple's corpse.
When he sent him off, he'd thought he'd severed all lingering attachments. That's why he'd handed him over to the Cult Leader so readily, believing he'd be used well. But his disciple returned as a cold corpse, and his trust lay shattered.
"Was the opponent that formidable?"
He asked his disciple, but no answer came.
He'd thought it improper for a master to meddle in his lone disciple's life. So he'd tried to forget.
Cheon O-gyeong stared at Jo Ja-kyeong's face for a long while.
"I thought I'd cut off all lingering regrets... Apparently not."
At those words, Sang Han-cheon's eyes gleamed.
'Ja-kyeong's death is regrettable, but in the end, it's the best card we could draw.'
He inwardly rejoiced but never let it show.
Though both inherited the War Sword Style, the gap between Cheon O-gyeong and Jo Ja-kyeong's achievements was like heaven and earth.
"Where is the Hundred Battles Sect?"
"We don't know yet. But we're tracking them down, so we'll find them soon."
"Find out."
"As you command, Elder."
Sang Han-cheon bowed deeply once more. His attitude was exceedingly deferential.
The eyes of everyone in the room darted about. They tried to infer Cheon O-gyeong's identity from Sang Han-cheon's demeanor and words. But one chose to ask directly rather than speculate.
"Elder? Who might you be, old sir?"
The voice belonged to Deung Cheon-so.
With his savage temperament, his tone was naturally rough. Irritated by being suppressed by Cheon O-gyeong's aura, his voice carried extra force.
Even at Deung Cheon-so's gruff words, Cheon O-gyeong didn't respond. That ignited Deung Cheon-so's fury.
"Old sir! I'm talking to—"
Swish!
In that instant, Deung Cheon-so felt a chilling touch at his throat.
His wide eyes caught Cheon O-gyeong right in front of his face.
'Wh-when?'
He hadn't sensed Cheon O-gyeong move. Impossible, given Deung Cheon-so's own skill.
Cheon O-gyeong's sword finger rested against his Adam's apple. One surge of internal energy, and his head would part from his body.
Brrr!
Deung Cheon-so's body trembled in terror.
He had never imagined a warrior of this caliber existed.
Cheon O-gyeong stared at him.
"Always think carefully before you speak. Words once spoken can never be taken back."
"Urgh..."
"Elder! He is a vital asset to our cult. I know it offends you, but he acted out of ignorance. Please forgive him this once."
At Sang Han-cheon's polite plea, Cheon O-gyeong withdrew his sword finger. Only then could Deung Cheon-so exhale in relief.
His back was already soaked with cold sweat.
Cheon O-gyeong regarded him with a chilling gaze.
"Deung Cheon-so."
"Y-yes? Yes!"
"Even your master didn't treat me that way."
"You know my master?"
"How could I not? The scar on your master's chest... I gave it to him."
"Th-then?"
Deung Cheon-so's eyes bulged.
His master had died nearly thirty years ago, during the First Righteous-Demonic War.
He had perished alongside seven renowned righteous faction experts, his martial arts absolute.
Deung Cheon-so had always been immensely proud and respectful of such a master. He believed his master was the world's greatest.
Yet there was one scar on that master's chest—a fatal sword wound that had narrowly missed his heart. The trace of the only defeat in his master's life.
His master had said it was a wound from challenging the one he respected most, and he wore it with pride.
His name was...
"The Demonic Sword Immortal, Cheon O-gyeong."
A scream-like voice tore from Deung Cheon-so's lips.
A legend long forgotten even in the Demonic Cult.
The name Demonic Sword Immortal was enough to stir the hall. It carried that much weight and presence.
Regardless of the room's reaction, Cheon O-gyeong closed his eyes gently.
'Forgive me, brother. I thought I'd cast off all worldly passions, but I guess I'm human after all.'