Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Infiltrating the Demonic Cult (1)
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Midnight rendezvous.
"Hoo..."
Jeok Hwa-ryeon, sitting cross-legged in the center of the room, sealed the erupting demonic qi within her dantian and refined it.
The space trembled faintly.
The pitch-black demonic qi emanating from her all-body meridians was purified into pristine white through the profound principles of the Demonic Soul-Conquering Art.
A human's temperament is swayed by their martial arts.
It's no coincidence they're called mind methods.
As her dantian, once filled with demonic qi, brimmed with pure profound qi, stray thoughts vanished, and her mind cleared.
But it was still complicated.
The trivial distractions had faded, yet strangely, without the sect master who always spouted nonsense by her side, her heart felt empty.
Ryeon rose from her spot and trudged toward the quarters where Cheongun had stayed.
It was empty.
The only difference from before was the fishing rod left behind.
Because the sect master wandered around doing mad things so often, scarcely any martial artist in the world didn't know the name Cheongun. It had even become a proverb: if you see someone carrying a fishing rod, don't ask questions—just get away and avoid entanglement.
Thus, to conceal his identity, he'd left behind one of his signature traits: the fishing rod.
Ryeon glanced at it.
It was shabby and frayed; crudely made from the start, the bamboo pole was on the verge of snapping.
The fishing line was chewed up and ragged in places.
"Hmm..."
Ryeon pondered.
Cheongun. He'd avenged her, taught her martial arts, and casually given her the precious Heavenly Spirit Pill.
She was grateful.
But on the other hand, just receiving without giving back gnawed at her.
"A fishing rod..."
Ryeon mulled it over.
If she was going to give him something, wouldn't it be better to give him something useful rather than pointless junk?
She had money saved from slaving away like a dog, and some profound iron she'd squirreled away for a custom sword.
So she thought.
Just as there are famed swords among blades, what if she made a famed rod—a proper fishing rod—and gave it to him?
"...Would he like it?"
She wasn't sure if he'd like it. She was honestly a bit scared of getting whacked with that wooden staff again. Still, just taking without reciprocating didn't suit her nature.
That truly insane sect master bastard.
Handsome face aside, he pulled crazy stunts every day, his thoughts were a mystery, and though she didn't know his past, the way he sometimes fell into deep thought suggested he was hiding some story.
It felt like longing.
Like loneliness. Honestly, she had no idea. Before meeting Cheongun, Ryeon had never bothered trying to understand a man's heart.
But she'd decided to change that.
Because...
"He's the man who's going to be my husband..."
Ryeon giggled, her ears flushing red.
****
The sword spirit had spent centuries trapped in the blade, encountering countless types of humans.
There were always plenty who dared grasp a demonic sword without fear.
Since the faction that would later rampage as the Blood Cult started as the Demon-Exorcising Corps, the sword spirit had seen more lunatics in the Central Plains than anyone.
But Cheongun? He'd just reached his late twenties, and he hadn't even cultivated demonic arts.
Beggar origins aside, he'd mastered Daoist orthodox martial arts at a young age and, building on that, devoured numerous factions to achieve great things.
There was no reason for him to be crazy. That background wasn't exceptionally outstanding even among the Central Plains' underbelly.
Thus, the sword spirit couldn't help but be flustered by the scene unfolding before it.
"P-Please, help me! I beg you! Save me!"
The woman, half-naked and trembling, crawled forward on shaking hands and clutched Cheongun's ankle.
"Cover yourself first."
"P-Please... those men will catch up!"
Cheongun tilted his head.
"Men?"
"Y-Yes... On my way home, I ran into bandits. Everyone in my group was killed, and I barely escaped... Sob, hic..."
Cheongun repeated her words.
"You ran into bandits?"
"Yes! Vicious green forest bandits! They killed my husband and child right in front of me... and said they'd toy with me until they were bored, then sell me to a brothel! Please, please save me!"
Cheongun snorted.
"How very bandit-like."
"Hic... Hero, I beg you. Slay those villains!"
"These dog-like bastards. Lead the way. This hero will wipe them all out."
"R-Really? Thank you, thank you! Hero, you're a gift from the heavens!"
"I am the heavens."
"Yes, of course! Absolutely!"
The woman wept loudly, showering Cheongun with thanks.
Watching this, the sword spirit thought to itself.
'...Is he insane?'
As Cheongun's food spirit, it was hypersensitive to his emotional state and qi fluctuations.
Cheongun was clearly enjoying the situation.
Moreover, he'd deliberately suppressed his realm, refining his aura. To the eye, he seemed merely early first-rate.
The witch probably took him for a righteous faction martial artist around early first-rate.
He wasn't carrying his usual fishing rod, and before leaving the rendezvous, he'd used the disguise technique from So Ye-rin, altering his face slightly from normal.
And sure enough.
The woman clinging to Cheongun for help thought inwardly.
'Pfft, what a stupid righteous faction fool.'
Easy, too easy.
Strip a bit, plead in a frail voice, and they jump in without a second thought.
Don't they say in the martial world to beware of the elderly, children, and women?
That means martial artists drop their guards completely around them.
Self-proclaimed heroes who help the weak like idiots.
Her lips curled at the thought of backstabbing him.
Anticipating Cheongun's shocked face upon realizing the betrayal, she cautiously asked.
"Hero, may I have your name?"
"Gang Ho-cheon."
"Hero Gang... This girl is Suryeon."
Suryeon maintained her trembling body with effort, flashing a pitiful smile on her pale face.
"I'll guide you."
"Good. Lead on."
Suryeon sent Cheongun a wistful smile; he replied with an even more wistful expression.
Flustered for a moment, Suryeon changed the subject.
"Hero Gang, what clan are you from?"
"Me?"
"Nothing much. I just want to know who my savior is. I might repay the favor someday."
Cheongun answered.
"Bandit chief of Cloudpeak Mountain Stronghold. That's me."
At that response, Suryeon's lips twitched.
What did this guy just say?
Cloudpeak Mountain Stronghold's chief? A stronghold chief is just a bandit leader, right?
She was being chased by bandits, and he claims to be a bandit boss.
What? A joke? Had to be.
Glancing back just in case, Cheongun only wore a meaningful, wistful smile.
"...?"
Of course, it wasn't a real bandit chase—it was a fabricated setup—but it still flustered her.
Yeah, a joke.
No bandit boss wanders alone like that.
Above all, if he were truly a bandit, he'd have shown killing intent by now.
Yet he showed none, just laughing heartily with goodwill.
Clearly a slightly crazy guy tossing out banter to lighten the mood.
Suryeon chuckled, barely keeping her composure as she continued the conversation.
"You're a funny one. Ah, this way!"
"How many are chasing you?"
"Two or three, I think."
The sword spirit's eyebrow twitched at the sight.
She'd been sending mental messages to Cheongun nonstop.
Kill this bewitching witch right now and be on your way; tangling with the Demonic Cult brings nothing good.
She'd been persuading him relentlessly.
Not out of worry for him, just practicality—as his spirit, it was natural.
Food spirits share their master's fate; if he died, it vanished too.
—Master, listen to me!
'Shut up.'
—Demonic cultists always swarm! You have no idea how many there are—why follow her so fearlessly!
'Perfect, actually.'
—Damn it! Perfect how?! What kind of lunatic is this!
'Quiet, virgin ghost.'
As Cheongun traded thoughts with the sword spirit—
Suryeon, leading the way, halted abruptly.
"We're here."
It was a deep forest thick with ancient trees.
Scattered sunlight filtered through leaves, casting a dim, shadowy mood.
About ten men were gathered.
All peak-realm martial artists, snickering at the dumbly standing Cheongun.
"What an idiot."
Suryeon giggled as she approached the men.
They laughed raucously, pointing at Cheongun.
"Kuhahat! Didn't I say one would fall for it?!"
"Tch! Who'd guess he'd fall for such a moronic trick?!"
"Hahat! What’s new? Righteous faction fools are all like this. Total idiots."
"Brother, enough chit-chat. Let's decide what to do with him."
"What to do? Slice him up like jerky. Young and pretty—should taste good. Kuhahaha!"
Cheongun drew his sword.
"Pfft! Idiot. A mere first-rate daring to prance before peak-realm masters like us..."
Before the words finished—
Blade hummed with azure light.
Soon, the blue glow crackled—! into thunderbolts, flashing brilliantly.
"...Huh?"
The cultists panicked.
Sword qi? And thunderbolts?
It didn't end there.
The sword qi, initially just coating the blade, jaggedly protruded, surging past the tip skyward.
The sword qi pierced the clouds high above.
Cheongun advanced another step, his eyes gleaming with fierce azure light.
With mere breaths, his internal energy flowed in the External Breathing realm. The energy seeped through his meridians, resonating with heaven and earth's natural qi, igniting azure thunder qi across the space.
Pzzzt—!
Finally, the maximally compressed sword qi evolved into sword gang.
"......"
The chattering cultists froze like folding fans.
Suryeon, who'd lured Cheongun here, was on the verge of fainting.
Then, one cultist, sweating profusely, stammered.
"Wh-Which school's senior are you?"
Another asked.
But Cheongun didn't answer.
He took another step forward.
And uttered his signature mournful tone.
"You killed Suryeon's husband and children."
"What—! Hero! It's a misunderstanding! That damned bitch doesn't have a husband or kids...!"
Cheongun cut him off firmly.
"Shut up. You're Suryeon's enemies."
"We're colleagues, not enemies!"
"Die, then."
"......Damn it!"
The hesitant cultists exchanged glances, then scattered skyward like a flock of pigeons in perfect unison.