The Sura Sword Master's Twisted Ritual
A rock flew through the air and struck the black-clad man's forehead. Swallowing his curses, the man hurled the sack aside (accompanied by a muffled yelp) and drew his sword, pointing it straight ahead.
“Who’s there!”
No answer came. The black-clad man glared into the shadows ahead, his eyes trembling with tension. Then came a light tok—something small hitting the ground. A strong hand clamped around his neck. He struggled, but the blood flow to his brain was cut off. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed unconscious.
Cheong tossed the man aside and opened the mouth of the discarded sack.
“Mmph.”
“Shh.”
Cheong held a finger to her masked face, then pointed outside and made a quick stabbing motion. The woman who had been kidnapped nodded frantically at the simple gesture promising freedom. Cheong untied the gag and the ropes binding the woman’s arms and legs. The woman bent at the waist three times in violent spasms before fleeing silently into the darkness of the new moon night.
Cheong gathered the gag and ropes, flipped the sack over her head, and lay down. She wriggled until only her hand poked out of the opening, then fumbled to tie the sack’s strings shut. After sealing the mouth, she pushed the strings out through a small gap, removed her mask, bit down on the damp, unpleasant gag, and clumsily bound her own limbs with the ropes.
The black-clad man, who had briefly lost consciousness, came to. He sprang up and scanned his surroundings, then let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the sack still writhing on the ground. Though he had suffered an unpleasant ambush, as long as the result was good, everything was fine. He decided to take the secret of the attack to his grave and picked up the sack once more.
---
The first Sura Sword Master believed that human nature was no different from that of beasts. If humans had risen to dominate the world by wielding swords, then surely beasts would be even stronger if they held blades. A bear with a sword? Magnificent. He had to create it immediately. Thus, the 108 Asura Swords were born—a martial art meant to awaken the hidden bestial instincts within people.
However, the Sura Sword Master had gravely underestimated the power of those instincts. Once awakened, the beast within craved blood by nature. The wielder would draw their sword, their mind would snap, and only a bloodthirsty killing ghost would remain. Yet they were undeniably powerful. After all, it was a beast holding a sword.
The 108 Asura Swords earned their place among the Ten Great Demonic Arts, and those who mastered it were called Sura Demon Swords. Successive generations of Sura Demon Swords sought ways to suppress this side effect. The mildest method they devised was inspired by the fact that a well-fed predator does not hunt. If they shed blood in advance, perhaps they could restrain the explosion of their bestial nature? It was a simple idea: eat before you get hungry, and you won’t feel hungry later. Surprisingly, it worked. Thus, the Sura Demon Swords began periodically craving blood.
Since human bestial instincts were never free from personal hidden desires, each Sura Demon Sword’s preferred method of shedding blood differed slightly. The current Sura Cult Lord, Cho Deung-nam’s preference was among the cruelest in history. After a beastly coupling that stole a virgin’s first blood, he would tear his victim to pieces. The ritual was so horrific that it was conducted in secret within a specially sealed chamber. No one except the Sura Demon Sword himself knew the true nature of that cruel act.
And now, a new sacrifice had been thrown into that special chamber.
Riiip! The sack was torn open with a flourish, revealing the outside. Cheong looked out with startled eyes.
“Huff, huff.”
Her gaze met that of the man wearing a pitch-black mask. Cheong was so shocked that she instinctively cursed—the versatile swear from her homeland that served as both profanity, exclamation, and expression of disbelief.
Shit!
“Mmph!”
Thanks to the gag, the curse didn’t escape. The masked man chuckled.
“Heh heh, stay still. If you listen well, you might return alive. Your internal energy is sealed, so it must be frustrating? It’s due to the sangongdok poison, so there’s no need for great concern.”
Cheong quickly scanned her surroundings. It was a sealed room. Restraint devices, stained dark red with old blood, gleamed from being meticulously cleaned. Shackles connected by chains lined the walls, and whips, clubs, and other tools were scattered across a platform. Cheong immediately regretted her decision.
Damn it. This isn’t what I thought. This isn’t some adult scene—it’s a slaughterhouse.
She needed to get out right away. Cheong resolved to reveal her identity and escape. She worked the gag out of her mouth and opened her lips to speak.
“Elder, there’s something I must tell you—”
“Shh.”
The blade of a dagger pressed beneath her chin, cutting her words short.
“Your beauty is truly exquisite. To think such a virgin still remained in the Cult. I must reward the one in charge handsomely.”
“That—”
“Shh. Enough. If you wish to live, keep your mouth shut.”
Since Cheong wished to live, she closed her mouth for now. The masked man unexpectedly cut the ropes binding her limbs—though they had only been loosely tied to begin with. Cheong tried to speak again.
“Actually, this maiden—”
But the man pulled away the cloth covering his body, and her words died in her throat.
Damn it, my eyes!
Cheong’s face twisted in genuine disgust. She would have preferred him completely naked. Even in her homeland, seeing men’s bodies at bathhouses was nothing unusual. But this… A black mask covering his face, and then—
It was an indescribably horrific outfit. The masked man’s exposed eyes widened.
“Hah! That expression! Perfect! More, despise me more! Look at me like I’m trash! Quickly!”
“That—”
“Good. You needn’t worry too much. Why do you think I covered my face? If you satisfy me, not only will you return safely, but you’ll leave with plenty of gold as well.”
“This maiden—”
“Here. Take it.”
He held out the whip in his hand. It was obvious he wanted her to accept it, so Cheong reluctantly took it.
“This is…?”
“Huff, huff. Strike me with it. Quickly! This body is that of a remarkable master, so there’s no need for concern!”
He turned around. Shit, my eyes! Cheong grimaced again. The sight of his sagging, leather-strap-ridden rear end dealt severe damage to her mental health.
If Cheong had been an ordinary Central Plains maiden, she would have been at a complete loss in this grotesque situation. But having lived through the flood of all manner of sexual fetishes in the sea of information, Cheong immediately understood.
This guy’s just a pervert with that kind of preference.
“What are you doing! Quickly!”
Smack!
Cheong decided to play along for now and swung the whip half-heartedly. Made of soft leather braided into multiple strands, it was more like a switch designed to hurt rather than a weapon.
“Hngh, you have considerable strength! But it’s still not enough! Harder, hit me harder!”
Smack!!
“Harder!”
Smack!!!
“Excellent! More, more, more!”
Crack!!!!
“Haaah… More, more!”
Cheong shook her head. What? He rapes and tears apart virgins? If this pathetic sight got out, he’d rather be known as a cruel demonic rapist and murderer. After all, this isn’t a place that particularly cares about cruelty.
The Central Plains was conservative. If this were revealed, it would go beyond social burial to something worse than desecration of his corpse. So after having his fun, he would surely silence her.
Cheong’s guess was half right. In any case, to suppress the bestial nature of the 108 Asura Swords, blood had to be shed. After satisfying his lust, the cruel slaughter would follow.
“What are you doing! Quickly! Quickly!”
Cheong looked down at the Sura Demon Sword rubbing his body against the floor.
Fine. If that’s what you want.
In the Demonic Cult, where every disciple was armed, there were no commoners ignorant of martial arts. But the man seemed to think the sangongdok poison had scattered all her internal energy. He probably believed a powerless girl couldn’t possibly do anything to a Transcendent-level master.
Cheong’s hands moved busily. The continuous whipping was merciless. Red welts streaked across the Sura Demon Sword’s exposed back. At some point, his body and legs stiffened, and he began to tremble violently.
“Shit.”
Cheong had learned the basics of whipping from Master Kang. The basics meant infusing internal energy to make the whip rigid or flexible, striking exactly where desired. She drew up a massive amount of true energy from her dantian. The chaotic true energies gathered from both orthodox and unorthodox sources responded to her will, surging forward like a tidal wave. By the time she left the Goddess Sect, Cheong’s internal energy had already reached the middle stage of Transcendent. After adding all manner of demonic energies in the Demonic Cult, her capacity alone was now close to the Harmonious Realm.
The whip, standing straight like a blade, shimmered with multicolored true energy. Uncondensed energy overflowed as sword rays. It could no longer be called a whip. The true energy, as thick as a thigh, spread in all directions like a wildfire.
“No, this is—!”
The Sura Demon Sword’s realm was Transcendent, but his body and mind were still reeling from the peak he had just reached from the whipping. Responding quickly when both body and mind were drained would require superhuman ability. Unfortunately, he had not yet reached Tal-ma.
“Too late.”
The whip became a blade and swept across the floor. Deep claw marks from a beast were gouged into the ground. If such marks remained on a cutting board, the body that had lain upon it would fare no better. The Sura Demon Sword’s torso was sliced as thin as sashimi. Since it was cut through bone as well, one could call it a different kind of sashimi.