Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Bloodflow Valley (2)
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Cheongun, who had been walking endlessly, fell deep into thought.
The Filth Gate was a sect, and among them, it was one of the handful of major sects in terms of sheer scale.
But it wasn't just big in size.
At the very bottom of the Central Plains were the dregs of society, and wasn't the Filth Gate formed by those dregs banding together to protect their interests?
They were spread like a dense web across every nook and cranny of the Central Plains, so in terms of sheer numbers alone, even the Beggars' Gang had to yield a step before the Filth Gate.
...That's the Filth Gate as commonly known.
Before possession, Cheongun had played the original game and tangled with every faction in the martial world, and among them, there was one force that was the most secretive, insidious, and impossible to pin down.
'Secret Meeting'
They were essentially the true core of the Filth Gate.
The Filth Gate was merely a mask they wore for their outward activities, while all real operations and intelligence were handled covertly by this core, the Secret Meeting.
The funny thing was that they proclaimed strict neutrality.
On the surface, they wore the mask of the Filth Gate and acted like an unorthodox faction, but their true body, the Secret Meeting, kept a thorough distance from other black path forces.
So that made it strange.
Who was he?
The direct disciple of the Crimson Night Sword Sovereign, no less.
The Secret Meeting wasn't foolish enough to poke the Sword Sovereign just to swallow up the Darkwood Sect.
"Hmm."
Well, he'd find out when he saw them firsthand.
Cheongun decided not to overthink it.
But before that, there was something he needed to handle.
Cheongun came to an abrupt halt.
He whipped his head up and flicked one of the needles from his finger into the empty air.
The needle flashed as it flew, then suddenly stopped midway.
A figure slithered out from the darkness.
A man in a red mask stood boldly atop a tree branch, casually pinching the needle between two fingers.
He asked nonchalantly,
"When did you notice?"
"When? From the very start."
"Impressive eyesight."
"Your stealth technique is just sloppy. An assassin leaking killing intent like that and failing to hide their presence properly—it's just pathetic. I don't know which faction you're from, but their fate hangs as precariously as morning dew on a blade of grass."
"......"
The man's eyebrows twitched.
"I'm not an assassin."
"Then what are you?"
"A messenger."
"Messenger?"
The man tossed a scroll down from the tree toward Cheongun.
Cheongun unfurled it and read, his expression souring as he did.
This guy was from the Ghost Demon Squad of the inner hall of the Divine Cult.
The Ghost Demon Squad, a direct force under the cult leader.
Vipers who lurked in the shadows handling only the dirty work.
Damn it, of all things, the Ghost Demon Squad?
Cheongun furrowed his brow.
He already knew the guy was from the Divine Cult.
With the trait activated, blue windows crammed in front of his eyes—how could he not know?
But the Ghost Demon Squad was another level.
All Divine Cult bastards were crazy, but the Ghost Demon Squad took it a step further into utter madness.
Directly under the cult leader, yet scheming independence from the Divine Cult itself.
And actually pulling it off, those lunatics.
Even among the Divine Cult's gathering of madmen, these were the top-tier crazies who had banded together and split off into their own faction.
Blood Heaven God Cult.
Shortened to Blood Cult.
A fusion trash heap that was the Demonic Cult topped with a spoonful of human sacrifice.
"Choose."
"Choose what?"
"Accept the invitation. Or die here."
Cheongun pondered at those words.
"What if I accept?"
"We'll let you join the cult."
Oh, is that so?
Cheongun mulled it over briefly.
And soon enough, he made up his mind.
"Lead the way."
The man said,
Ghost Demon Squad.
And among them, under the squad leader and deputy leader... an old monster around the rank of chief steward called the "Soul-Devouring Demon Lord" had invited him.
Hearing that had given him pause for a moment.
Should he just kill this guy right here without anyone the wiser?
No, that would be pointless.
If the messenger sent to invite him vanished, anyone would know it was his doing.
His ultimate goal was the downfall of the Demonic Cult anyway.
So he decided to follow along.
Thinking about it, there was no loss—only gain.
If they were inviting him, they'd naturally take him to their main base, which had to be a den of demonic cultists at first glance, right?
So he'd play nice and follow.
Demonic cultists were precious.
Missing even one would be a loss.
It was around the time Cheongun had settled on that plan.
"We're here."
It was quite a distance away.
A sheer cliff jutted toward the sky, and a sinister aura permeated the mountain depths.
In the distance stood a grand Taoist temple.
On the path...
...Bloodstains?
Dark bloodstains clung to rocks and soil, stretching onward.
He swallowed his unease and pressed on.
"!!!"
A ferocious energy emanating from below the cliff made him halt instinctively.
Having reached the Primordial Unity realm, Cheongun's senses were sharpened to the utmost.
Especially for him, who wielded Natural Qi like inner energy, ghostly yin energy arising from nature felt all the more acutely.
He cautiously peered over.
The cliff was shrouded in fog, its depths impossible to gauge.
Halfway up, torn cloth scraps hung from protruding branches, and the walls bore yellowish-brown bloodstains streaked like claw marks.
And that wasn't all.
Yellowish-red papers resembling talismans were strung midway through the valley at intervals.
"......"
It was a sight he'd never seen before.
A place that didn't exist even in the original game.
Since he'd been possessed right after installing the "Demon Extermination" mod, the starting point differed from the original, and he had no idea what mod-exclusive content had been added.
"Follow me."
Here and there were massive pits dug into the ground.
Each one was crammed haphazardly with corpses.
He glanced at the bodies.
Hearts carved out from the center of their torsos.
The stench of rotting flesh assaulted his nose.
He scanned the surroundings.
Severed limbs, twisted corpses, dried bloodstains.
All of them appeared to be non-adults.
It was hell on earth.
Ghostly energy overflowed.
No, at this level, it wasn't overflowing—the space itself was saturated with it.
Even trivial objects were emanating ghostly energy.
Then, the leading man spoke.
"One thing I'll tell you: all the buried ones are demonic cultivators who practiced demonic arts."
"Demonic cultivators?"
"Yeah. We dragged in orphan kids with no parents and force-fed them demonic arts. Then killed them. The grand ritual requires the life souls and hearts of those devoured by 'demonic' qi."
"......"
Cheongun walked on without a word.
Figures in red masks and black Taoist robes—impossible to tell if male or female—lined both sides.
This one was a demonic cultivator.
That one too.
All of them, demonic cultivators.
So many.
How many were there?
As he marveled, they arrived at a spot where an old monster stood holding an iron fan.
"......"
Assessment.
Pretty strong.
Facing him made all his blood vessels feel like they might burst from the overflowing pure energy.
The old monster smiled at Cheongun.
"Welcome. To Bloodflow Valley."
His voice rumbled like an echo, resounding from all directions.
"Accepting the invitation means you're interested in our cult..."
The old monster muttered something.
Cheongun had no intention of listening closely.
The mood wasn't right for paying attention.
No, honestly, it just pissed him off.
A primal disgust.
"......To complete this grand ritual, we need a sacrifice of pure blood. If you help, not only will you join the cult, but secure a position in the inner hall..."
This bastard had been spouting nonsense since earlier.
The blood stench wasn't helping.
Meanwhile, the pure energy swirling through his blood vessels was amplifying wildly with the trait active.
Noisy, foul mood, irritating, suffocating.
He felt like he was going mad.
How to shake off this dogshit feeling?
He was pondering deeply when—
"You little shit... How dare you space out while the squad leader speaks!"
Fuck, you picked the wrong time.
Cheongun dropped the fishing rod slung over his shoulder to the ground.
Thud.
Simultaneously, he drew the Crimson Night Sword like lightning and raised it vertically.
Panicked voices erupted from them.
Especially the guide from earlier, shouting "You bastard!" right beside him.
Instead of replying, Cheongun smiled.
And he gathered the overflowing Natural Qi to the max, cramming it into the sword.
Brilliant blue sword energy surged forth, blindingly bright.
Beyond the straight-extended sword energy, jagged lightning bolts crackled outward.
The tingling sensation crept up his hand gripping the sheath.
An ordinary steel sword would have snapped under the pressure of the thunder qi.
As expected of a famed sword acknowledged by his master.
And then.
"!!!"
Cheongun slashed downward from above.
Slowly.
The sword tip descended, leaving afterimages.
A red and blue trajectory drawn in the air.
It streaked like a meteor, tailing a single line as it flickered.
"What...!"
The old monster startled by the Crimson Night Sword crashing down on his head hastily drew his own sword and raised it horizontally to block.
—Schwick.
The Crimson Night Sword sliced into his blade like cutting tofu.
He cried out desperately.
"S-Spare...!"
"Shut your mouth, you vermin."
The plunging sword tip cleanly severed his sword before touching his crown.
The blade dug into his scalp, his soft skin parting smoothly.
Even the skull, said to be one of the harder bones?
Before the hyper-refined sword energy, it parted like tofu.
The blade sank down without resistance.
As if smashing through a dojo floorboard, the sword body plunged straight down.
Moments later...
Crack—!
The old monster's body split in half, collapsing to either side.