Who's the Demonic Cult Here?
It was perhaps a blessing that Chu Yeongjo had closed his eyes without hearing So Yul's words.
A deep thud reverberated through the clearing.
The sect members who had witnessed the hollow, meaningless death of their leader—the pillar of the Black Scale Sect—trembled uncontrollably. Ilkwang the Great Bandit, Chu Yeongjo, had been a powerhouse against whom no one in all of Gansu dared to stand, save perhaps the distant Kongtong Sect. And yet that very man had died so futilely, his heart pierced in mere exchanges by that delicate-looking courtesan. There was no doubt the vice sect leader, who had yet to reveal himself, had also been killed by that woman. They could still picture the daggers that had flown silently from the forest.
When So Yul's gaze turned toward them, the memory of their fallen comrades and their frantic flight from the forest's demon moments ago transformed into terror, seizing their entire bodies.
"Hmm... what should I do with you~?"
So Yul's low voice sounded to them like the verdict of a death god. Every sect member heard the blood-drenched Killing Demon murmur those words, and one of them dropping to his knees was how it began.
"P-please spare us."
"Please, I beg you!"
Thud, thud. Clang! The sound of Black Scale Sect members dropping to their knees and hurling away their weapons filled the silent clearing.
For the Black Scale Sect's underlings, there truly had been no other choice. Avenging their sect leader by defeating the supreme expert who had felled him? Anyone capable of that would have long since dragged the sect leader down and taken his seat himself. That was simply the way of the unorthodox factions—without loyalty or honor, parasitizing whatever power happened to be strongest. That was exactly what the Black Scale Sect underlings kneeling and groveling before So Yul were.
So Yul had originally intended to slaughter them all; it was less trouble that way. The reason she hesitated now was not their pitiful begging for their lives, but the sharp gaze of Cho Ja-un, watching everything from a distance. If she was going to travel alongside an orthodox sect member and hide from the Demonic Cult's eyes within the orthodox faction, she needed to act as orthodox as possible. And this wasn't something that particularly wounded her pride, nor was it something she found distasteful. After all, any means necessary to achieve the goal had been the iron rule she'd lived by.
Having decided to spare the Black Scale Sect's survivors, So Yul casually wiped the blood from her face and summoned the gentlest smile she could manage. Though to the Black Scale Sect underlings, it only made her look even more terrifying.
"Now, I'd love to spare you, but you might all be terrible people, right? And how could I, a member of the orthodox faction, just let you go? So tell me what you've been up to. I'll listen carefully and judge fairly. Of course, if you lie... well, you'll end up like your boss over there~"
Following her playfully pointed finger to where Chu Yeongjo's corpse lay sprawled, the Black Scale Sect members shuddered in unison. As martial artists, they'd always told themselves they could face death calmly at any moment. But the death they'd actually witnessed was neither calm nor peaceful.
One of the warriors, utterly terrified, stammered out his words.
"W-we only came here because we were ordered to. We never wanted to be here."
"Y-yes! That's right. I've always bought my own food and clothes with my own money. I've never stolen from anyone!"
Once one or two started talking, the rest of the underlings began clamoring over each other to proclaim their innocence and list their daily virtues.
"I've even given alms to beggars on the street!"
"I've never abused my strength against commoners!"
Of course, there was no way to verify any of it, but So Yul couldn't have cared less. She was simply manufacturing a pretext to let the unorthodox faction members go—for Cho Ja-un's benefit. She was supposed to be orthodox now; she couldn't just kill them all, but letting them go without a word didn't seem like proper orthodox conduct either. So the plan was to hear them out, confirm they hadn't committed any real atrocities, and then send them on their way with something like: Now, no more evil deeds from here on out. Scatter and live honest lives.
Just as So Yul was about to address the underlings—who were still competing to advertise their innocence, diligence, and goodness—with a magnanimous smile, one of them blurted out, completely oblivious:
"That's right! Actually, those kidnappings we did were all ordered by the Demonic Cult!"
"Hold on."
At the familiar yet unfamiliar term, So Yul furrowed her brow and raised a hand.
"You there. What did you just call it?"
The face of the underling who'd been called out went white as death, while his comrades glared at him murderously. The same thought flashed through every mind simultaneously—why is this idiot saying that?! —and they all wanted to stuff a rag down his throat. But the authority to open or close that mouth belonged to exactly one person here, so all they could do was glare at him in fury.
"Y-yes... no, I mean, it's not that we have any connection to the Demonic Cult..."
Yang Cheom stammered, desperately trying to explain himself.
"You said 'Demonic Cult' again."
"I-I'm sorry!"
So this woman has a seizure just hearing the word 'Demonic Cult.' I'm dead, thought Yang Cheom of the Black Scale Sect, squeezing his eyes shut. But that wasn't what had displeased So Yul.
"Who're you calling the Demonic Cult? Isn't it the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult?"
Yang Cheom's expression went blank at that, then he collected himself and answered.
"Y-yes! That's right! The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. I'm sorry!"
"Then why did you call it the Demonic Cult? You are unorthodox faction, aren't you?"
Technically, Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was the correct official name. But the lofty elders of the orthodox faction had found it deeply distasteful that a band of wicked demonic cultists dared to use the characters for Heaven and Divine in their name, and so they had decreed that they would be called not the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult but simply the Demonic Cult. And thus a divide was born: the cult itself and the unorthodox factions called them the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, while the orthodox faction called them the Demonic Cult.
Yang Cheom knew this perfectly well, of course. But wasn't that woman orthodox? How could he possibly dare say 'Heavenly Demon Divine Cult' in front of the orthodox woman who held his life in her hands?
This crazy bitch is just looking for an excuse to kill me. It was unjust, but since she was the one with all the power, Yang Cheom had no choice but to bow his head yet again.
"I'm sorry. I am unorthodox faction... sob..."
But he couldn't hold back the tears spilling out, driven by the crushing injustice and the terror of his imminent death.
"Why are you bawling? What did you do right? Since when does an unorthodox faction member get to say 'Demonic Cult'?"
"Hic... sob... hic... it's because... you're orthodox, Great Hero... hic... that's why..."
"What are you even saying? Anyway, the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult ordered you to kidnap someone? Tell me the details."
"W-well... hic... one day... someone... hic..."
So Yul clicked her tongue at the sight of the hulking man whimpering and hiccupping, unable to get a single word out—thoroughly unbecoming of his imposing frame.
"Hey, forget it. You. You talk instead. You know too, right? You were glaring at him earlier. Weren't you trying to tell him to shut up because you knew?"
"M-me?"
Hong Ryo, who had been glaring daggers at Yang Cheom until that very moment, flinched and pointed at himself.
"Yes. You."
"Ah, actually I don't really know—"
"If you don't know, I'll kill you and pick someone else to talk. One by one, until someone who knows steps up. Got it? Or don't you?"
At those murderous words, Hong Ryo broke into a bright smile and answered.
"I know the most, Great Hero. I've been dying to tell you."
What Hong Ryo told her was quite shocking. According to him, the Third Squad Leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's Shadow Unit had led his squad in a nighttime raid on the Black Scale Sect. And they hadn't just paid a visit—they had infiltrated the sleeping sect leader's quarters. Chu Yeongjo had woken to a blade resting against his throat, and in that position—sword at his neck—had been forced to receive his orders.
The mission was this: if an unidentified outsider, male, were to appear in Gansu, keep a close watch on him. If he was determined to have trained in martial arts, attempt to capture him. But if he was someone who could be captured—kill him immediately. And if the target proved too powerful to capture, they were to contact the cult without fail.
The whole point of kidnapping someone is to interrogate them or make demands—so kill them if they're easy to kidnap? It was an order that defied all common sense, but with his life on the line, Chu Yeongjo hadn't dared ask twice. He'd simply said yes, yes. After that, the Black Scale Sect underlings had busied themselves searching for anyone matching the description. They'd managed to track down a rare few wanderers fitting the profile, carried out their solemn orders, and—fortunately(?)—succeeded in capturing every last one, whom they then promptly killed. Nearly a year had passed since the order first came down, so things had quieted down somewhat as of late.
"T-that's everything."
"Hmm..."
Learning that the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was still searching for her, So Yul fell deep into thought. Truthfully, it was only natural. A supreme expert who'd reportedly reached the Flower Realm had abruptly left the cult without so much as a confirmation. If she had reached the Flower Realm, they needed to persuade her by any means and bring her back. If she hadn't, she deserved death for daring to toy with the Cult Leader. The one thing that wasn't their fault—well, technically their fault—was that they were searching for a man.
Hearing all this made So Yul even less able to kill the Black Scale Sect underlings. If the Black Scale Sect—the very sect they'd issued orders to—were wiped out overnight, the Shadow Unit would sense something was wrong and come after her. And if that happened, So Yul would inevitably have to kill every Shadow Unit member she encountered. She'd left the cult out of necessity and was drifting about now, but they were still people who'd eaten from the same pot. Killing them felt wrong, and if she did, she might genuinely never be able to return to the cult. And even if she was forced to wipe out the Shadow Unit's pursuit team, what came after would be an even bigger problem—because then the cult would truly start paying attention to who So Yul was.
Having sorted through her thoughts, So Yul turned once more to Yang Cheom—who was still crying in terror—and the tense Black Scale Sect underlings, wearing an expression of serene benevolence.
"Now, thank you for being honest with me. Kidnapping people on the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's orders was out of your hands, so I'll let it slide. But from now on, don't torment others. Live good, honest lives."
"Y-yes. Thank you."
Color returned to the underlings' faces.
"Oh, and one more thing. If I so much as hear a whisper that you've been tormenting commoners in Cheongseok County or anywhere you've settled, I'll pay you a little visit while you sleep. Don't do it. Understood?"
At those words, every member of the Black Scale Sect looked at the mad orthodox woman in courtesan's clothing—drenched head to toe in blood and beaming radiantly—and shuddered. Absolutely not.
"Understood!"
So Yul waved her hand at the Black Scale Sect as they answered in a resounding chorus.
"Now get out of my sight. I'll give you ten seconds. One."
A rush of wind—
The instant the word left her mouth, every member of the Black Scale Sect demonstrated lightness skill worthy of near-peak masters and scattered in all directions, vanishing in a heartbeat.
So Yul watched the Black Scale Sect's retreating forms disappear in an instant, then turned toward the forest and called out.
"Ja-un? You can come out now."
"......"
"Should I come drag you out? Or maybe throw a dagger your way? To spare you some of the embarrassment?"
A corner of the underbrush rustled, and Cho Ja-un emerged slowly, his face a picture of mortification.