213. Blood Cult (2)
Ilmajon.
Ilmajon shuddered.
His senses, elevated to the Super Peak through blood arts, could feel it. The power contained within that single drop of blood.
The power in the blood itself wasn't overwhelmingly vast.
Considering his own realm, it was negligible—a mere light gesture crafted solely as a warning. Like casually flicking one's hand.
At best, it might reach mid-Peak level.
But its nature was the problem.
Calamity.
No, great calamity.
The energy in that drop was a great calamity that wouldn't be sated until it destroyed everything.
Anyone versed in blood arts couldn't help but tremble at the sight.
Like a moth drawn to flame, they would succumb, oblivious even as their own body burned away.
'It's because of that blood qi.'
Ilmajon had always distrusted Jin So-cheong.
She was his granddaughter, but she had many shortcomings.
Especially her blood arts attainment, which was still lacking.
Blood arts were a study positioned between martial arts and sorcery. Unlike martial arts, which drew in the qi of nature, they elevated one's realm by absorbing the blood qi of various humans.
But inevitably, moments arose when the conflicting natures of the blood clashed and became turbid.
That was the critical hurdle.
Elevate the turbid blood qi to a higher plane.
Or be devoured by it.
Ilmajon knew.
That Jin So-cheong would one day be consumed by that blood qi if things continued as they were.
That she was nothing more than a pawn to exploit and discard before then.
Yet the granddaughter he saw today was different.
There was one reason.
She had taken a portion of that blood.
Turbid blood qi?
Before that overwhelming calamitous nature, it was no more than dust.
Thanks to absorbing that blood, the turbid energy had been utterly eradicated.
In its place, a fragment of that calamitous nature had taken root in her body.
And that wasn't all.
"If you touch what is mine, even the Cult will crumble."
Eyes of arrogance overlooking all beneath heaven.
Yet they suited her so naturally.
He had no choice but to acknowledge it.
Ilmajon grinned ear to ear as he spoke.
"They are alive, Your Holiness."
"Alive?"
"Safe. Unharmed."
"Are you testing me?"
Demonic energy seemed to flicker in his eyes. His hair began rising strand by strand, defying the laws of nature.
An earring became visible on his previously concealed ear.
'The Blue-Red Ring, was it? I'd forgotten.'
According to his granddaughter's report, it was a treasure artifact that sent a warning to its paired counterpart in times of crisis.
To share it with a subordinate of lower realm than himself.
In the secular world, one might call it the mark of an exemplary superior.
It showed how much he valued his subordinate.
But that was merely the secular standard.
"Your Holiness."
Ilmajon continued.
"To dye the world in blood, worldly ties mean nothing. Even if it's my own granddaughter, she must be sacrificed for the greater cause. The reverse holds true as well."
"Do not make me repeat myself. Lest you misunderstand."
He said.
"I seek them not because of worldly ties. Because they are mine."
His words rang true.
"One final question. My possessions. Where are they?"
At that thick greed, Ilmajon.
Grinned ear to ear once more.
Long ago, the Blood God had taken whatever he desired. Even if it meant shattering clans or sects in the process.
Thus, the one before him could truly be called a vessel for the genuine Blood God.
"Perform the Blood God's ritual. Then, you shall take all."
Ilmajon snapped his fingers with a crack!
Then Jin So-cheong appeared, leading several people.
One, with a black cloth hood blinding them, was being dragged in supported by the others. Their legs dragged limply, as if unconscious.
As they approached the threshold, they caught sight of the blood drop still hovering above his palm and froze in a daze, entranced.
"Ugh!"
Jin So-cheong, having experienced the power before, seemed to endure it.
Finally, she stepped forward and removed the hood.
The revealed face was, predictably, Tak Horak's.
Tak Horak's condition looked dire.
Not only unconscious, but dark-red veins bulged grotesquely across his skin. Even to an outsider, he appeared in peril.
One Blue-Red Ring in Tak Horak's ear vibrated ceaselessly.
"……."
He stared silently at his subordinate.
Ilmajon spoke.
"The other fled the village. Oh, and this one is afflicted with blood poison. After the Blood God's ritual, we shall treat him."
"Those words."
He said, eyes gleaming.
"Must be kept. Fail, and you all die."
"We gladly accept."
Ilmajon's smile mirrored Jin So-cheong's.
Sa Wol tossed a stone into the stream.
Casually thrown, yet thanks to her hands honed by assassination.
The stone skipped nimbly across the water—
Crack!
—before embedding into a rock on the opposite bank.
"……."
Sa Wol stared at her hand.
Bathed in moonlight, it looked utterly crude.
A hand that killed people.
A hand that had claimed countless lives, as if merely embedding a stone in rock.
Yet her hand was delicate and beautiful—
A hand that saved lives.
Was that why?
"Haa."
Sa Wol gazed at the quietly flowing stream.
Her reflection appeared.
It annoyingly overlapped with her older brother's. Even she had to admit they resembled each other too much. No matter how cherished a blood relative after long separation, it irked her that she, the younger sister, resembled her older brother.
'You like the Family Head.'
Her brother's words from that day lingered in her ears.
Was it true?
'No way.'
What would a monk know of romance to say such things?
As Sa Wol thought that, she froze, then shook her head sharply, as if shaking off the notion.
It wasn't romance.
Merely lord and vassal.
"Get a grip, Sa Wol. You are his sword. Didn't you swear as much?"
A blade that dwells on thoughts dulls inevitably.
As she reaffirmed that once more—
Rumble—!
"!?"
Sa Wol sensed an enormous flow of qi.
Viscous, fishy, brimming with malice.
She had felt something similar before.
'Extreme blood arts!'
When she fought Jin Yeong Ryeong, head of the Yin Blood Array Clan.
It resembled the qi from Jin Yeong Ryeong's blood arts.
But stronger.
Jin Yeong Ryeong's had felt like a fog of blood—vast and hazy, but dilute.
This qi was like a river in flood, poised to sweep away all in its path.
Such blood qi surpassed even Jin Yeong Ryeong's.
The direction: the mountain village.
Grind!
As expected, the Blood Cult.
Interrogation was necessary.
Sa Wol's body moved before her thoughts.
Her form blurred like a ghost across the air, sprinting forth. By now, she even wore her black mask covering half her face.
Each footfall propelled her over five jang.
'Family Head!'
Why had she left his side over mere bruised feelings?
Whoosh!
Birds, startled by her charge, scattered skyward.
Before even moments had passed, Sa Wol reached the mountain village.
What met her eyes was carnage.
The villagers.
All of them.
Shriveled like chicken necks, dead.
In the center—
Stood the Family Head, sword in hand.
With eyes blazing in utmost fury.
[……It's Sa Wol.]
'I know.'
My mood was shit.
Wondering if it was the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, I circulated my qi again, but no.
Not satisfied, I even summoned Mu-geuk-i, whose presence had faded lately, and had him breathe fire at me.
He eyed me warily as he spat flames. But nothing changed.
It was just my mood, my emotions.
I was being swept along by the situation.
I knew that.
Even Pa Cheon had warned me.
That sticking my head into a tiger's maw was folly.
I'd thought it would be fine.
But it wasn't.
I'd even realized Tak Horak and Sa Wol could be in danger.
Yet Tak Horak had been taken.
"Family Head. Are you alright?"
Sa Wol approached me.
"Looks like you're fine."
"……My apologies."
Did my words sound like rebuke? Sa Wol bowed her head in shame.
"As long as you're safe."
"……The Blood Cult's doing?"
I nodded.
"Follow me."
I walked slowly.
Along my path, mummified corpses lay in a line.
Ninety-nine.
The lives I'd taken.
Pa Cheon had absorbed their qi. Not just for me, but in case he needed blood qi too.
To outward eyes, it looked like a Blood Cult expert had drained them—no issue.
The creepy part? When I pressed my sword to their throats, the Blood Cult bastards smiled and offered their necks willingly.
[Madmen.]
Returning to the house, I saw Tak Horak seated in lotus position. Shirtless, his body bristled with acupuncture needles.
The Blue-Red Ring still vibrated.
Seeing him like that weighed heavy on my chest.
"Why is Foreman Tak like this?"
"The Blood Cult's work. Blood poison, they called it. Can't just dispel it recklessly."
Poisons cultivated via blood arts differ in nature from ordinary toxins.
Even the Avoid Poison Jade wouldn't neutralize it. Or maybe it could, but.
'Who knows what Ilmajon has rigged.'
Ilmajon was known in the jianghu as the Physician Saint. It could be more than mere poison.
"The village chief's doing. He left Tak Horak like this. Jin So-cheong applied needles as a stopgap, but time is short."
"……And her?"
"The Blood Cult took her."
That was the scenario to separate Sa Wol.
"I'll pursue."
"No need."
"But—"
"I'll handle it."
"But—"
Irritation surged.
"Rank 24. Sa Wol."
At my words, Sa Wol prostrated.
In the Divine Cult, invoking rank lent official weight to one's command.
"Since when do I repeat myself twice? You stay and guard Tak Horak."
"……."
"Understood?"
Sa Wol raised her head from prostration. Moisture glistened faintly in her eyes. Why?
Gritting her teeth, Sa Wol said.
"Jin So-cheong. Is it because of her?"
"What nonsense?"
"Are you this furious because she was taken? Is she that precious to you?"
I'm swamped, and she's spouting what now?
"Don't delude yourself. The only precious ones to me are you and my subordinates."
"……."
"If you want to walk beside me, get that much stronger."
Sa Wol had no reply.
As expected, survival of the strongest logic works best on Cult folk.
[Doesn't seem like it worked.]
'See? It did.'
[…….]
Mounting Mu-geuk-i, I said.
"I'll be back. Won't take long."
Thus, I headed alone to the Blood Cult headquarters.
Pretending to Be the Heavenly Demon