Chapter 221: Blood Cult (10)
While the Majons writhed, I turned to look behind me.
The Muhonjibyeok connected to the 'door' was important, but the other, more ordinary(?) Muhonjibyeoks were just as crucial.
Whatever was written on them could serve as vital clues.
Excluding the 'door' in the center, there were five of them.
<10,000 Days Since Falling into the Murim World>
<571 Days Since Falling into the Murim World>
<442 Days Since Falling into the Murim World>
<7,303 Days Since Falling into the Murim World>
<1,915 Days Since Falling into the Murim World>
It was just like the Muhonjibyeok that Jang... whatever-his-name-was, Sammajon's disciple, had brought all the way from Hae-nam.
Etched there was the day marking 10,000 days since the First Heavenly Demon had fallen into this world.
Compared to the 70,000 days on the Muhonjibyeok at Yao Xian's ruins, it was a small number, but who knew—maybe it commemorated 10,000 with some important arrangement.
As I read them down the line...
[Braised Short Ribs Recipe. 1. Clean the short ribs thoroughly and soak in cold water to draw out the blood. 2. Peel the radish, cut into large chunks, and line the bottom of the pot...]
Important arrangement my ass.
Why the hell is a braised short ribs recipe here? What is this, webtoon comments?
If my situation were a webtoon, I'd have posted that exact thing as a comment. Something like, "What the hell is the author thinking?"
At this point, I almost felt sorry for Jang... whatever-his-name-was, who hauled that big, heavy chunk of metal all the way from Hae-nam.
'Yeah, that could be it.'
It was a cliché to hide important info in ciphers, after all.
'You're the best.'
There wasn't much else worth salvaging from the other Muhonjibyeoks.
Mostly stuff about quests received and completed. Nothing special—just duplicates of things I already knew.
The one at 1,915 days had this, at least:
freezing. If I weren't of the Holy Fire Clan, I might've died. If you go, I recommend bringing someone from the Holy Fire Clan.>
It was just stating the obvious—that the Ice Palace is cold.
'Ever since that last time, the Muhonjibyeoks themselves haven't been much help. Is it because I've been trying to leech off them too much?'
After getting the Reinforcement Stone from the Hwasan Sect, the Muhonjibyeoks on their own hadn't yielded much useful info.
I felt it again.
This world was high risk, high return.
The more danger I braved and the harder I pushed to reach something, the better the rewards.
Just like how I'd fought Pa Cheon to the death for three straight days and earned the 'Gap' afterward.
'Fine. I'll wrap up Blood Cult business quick and head to the Ice Palace anyway.'
I decided to think positive.
While I examined the Muhonjibyeoks, the Majons began coming to their senses one by one.
Perhaps due to his age and highest realm, Ilmajon recovered first, followed by Imajon.
Sammajon's face was deathly pale.
'All the better.'
Sammajon couldn't even look me straight in the face.
He seemed to think his situation was just a warning.
The Majons, having composed themselves, bowed to me.
"We thank you for your boundless grace, Lord Hierarch."
My blood contained the energy of the Heavenly Demon Divine Art.
To those versed in blood arts, it was no different from an elixir.
But medicine and poison were two sides of the same coin—if the concentration was too high, it could act like poison, as with Jin Yeong Ryeong or Sammajon.
Overcome it, though, and their blood arts would grow stronger.
Of course, I couldn't just make them stronger like that.
They might go berserk if they got too cocky.
"I have one more message to deliver."
As I spoke with authority, they all knelt in unison—
"Urk!"
—well, everyone except Sammajon.
I twitched an eyebrow—and Pa Cheon had griped about me mimicking him at this point; it was just that irritating, so I'd copied it—and Sammajon, sensing the mood, quickly backed away.
Anyway.
"I know you've been doing your part to create a beautiful world for the Blood God's return."
Did they think they'd been acknowledged?
The Blood Cultists' faces lit up. I grinned right back.
"Bulls hit like X-god."
As confusion spread across their faces at the sudden curse, I continued.
"What have you actually accomplished?"
"……."
"Everything you've done has failed, leaving only tails behind. Blood Tree? That mess got the Murim Alliance to create inspectors and hunt you properly. And now the Demonic Cult's plotting to find you too."
They all bowed their heads at my rebuke.
"Do you know why this happens, old man?"
Ilmajon bowed deeper.
"Please bestow your teachings."
"Because you're weak. You got hasty despite your weakness and stirred up trouble everywhere. Thus, as Hierarch, I proclaim my first command."
I smiled as I said it.
"Seal the gates for ten years."
After all the rituals were done,
Jin So-cheong led me to a communal building.
It was the most opulent structure I'd stayed in yet.
The Blood God Pavilion.
They said it was the Blood Cult Hierarch's residence.
And it wasn't just flashy on the outside.
I got why Pa Cheon was puzzled.
Desks, chairs, furniture, decorations—nothing was cheap.
"We'll prepare your meal right away."
The Blood Cult food there was annoyingly delicious.
Dozens of side dishes, and even seafood, somehow procured in this inland spot.
It wasn't just because I'd fasted for ten days.
"Everything for the Hierarch must be the finest. Even the head chef."
Jin So-cheong boasted that she'd brought a renowned local chef just for me, as if fishing for praise.
This was why I didn't just dislike Blood Cultists—I despised them.
"Brought," she said, but did that chef's will factor in?
Whether by threat or kidnapping, they'd dragged him against his wishes.
For the sole reason of cooking my meals.
Just like how they'd wiped out the villagers en route here and replaced them with cultists.
No wonder nice words wouldn't come out.
"I'm done. Clear it."
"I'll bring tea."
"Make it iced."
"As you command."
Jin So-cheong left the room.
Pa Cheon, apparently itching to chat, spoke up right away.
"Yeah. Definitely stronger."
I drew up the Heavenly Demon Divine Art energy again.
The flow was much fiercer, faster. Like increased water pressure.
"I have a hunch."
I explained what happened during the "sparring" session that was basically Pa Cheon beating the crap out of me.
Pa Cheon continued.
"The weird part is whether my inner energy has some kind of ego—"
I cut myself off mid-sentence.
'Yeah. I feel it. Is this what it's like?'
How to describe it.
Like the hairs on my skin standing on end.
Even without direct contact, I could feel air currents and such.
That was the kind of sensation masters had, amplified enormously.
"Lord Hierarch. I've brought the tea."
Pa Cheon used his Domination intent to open the door. Jin So-cheong entered with the tea.
"A message from Imajon. She says she's fully recovered."
"Let's go."
I downed the iced tea—somehow perfectly chilled—and stood.
I had two goals coming to the Blood Cult.
The top priority was seizing control. That succeeded with the Blood God ritual. Now the cult's infrastructure was mine, and all their schemes were halted.
Sealing the gates meant locking the sect's doors and ceasing all external activity.
Ten years—even mountains and rivers change.
A person in seclusion for a decade severs all ties; for a group, even more so.
In wuxia tales, sects usually sealed after losing wars, a humiliating bid to survive.
And I'd ordered it.
'Given their track record, even sealed, they'll probably just avoid overt external ops and do everything else.'
Real-world cults still wrote scriptures. They just twisted interpretations to suit themselves.
The Blood Cult would do the same.
But curbing overt activity would drastically cut their chances of causing chaos.
No more city-level massacres or pitting sects against each other via spies, at least.
"Here it is. Imajon calls this place the 'lab.'"
Jin So-cheong pointed to a pavilion.
My second goal for coming to the Blood Cult.
"Greetings, Lord Hierarch."
Imajon came out to greet me.
From creating the Blood Tree and Blood Yang Corps, she had a mad scientist vibe.
She even wore glasses, despite warriors not needing them for poor eyesight.
And a white outfit that screamed lab coat to anyone.
As I eyed it, Imajon beamed proudly.
"This 'research garb' is said to be what the Blood God wore upon manifesting in the world."
Probably just a grad student's lab uniform.
In a way, she might inherit the First Heavenly Demon's will best—endless experimentation.
"Please, come inside."
We followed Imajon into the lab.
The commune was already a deep underground cave, but her lab went even further down.
The basement brimmed with grotesque, bizarre items.
The scene was so graphic it'd earn an 19+ rating just describing it; I endured by channeling Heavenly Demon Divine Art energy.
"It's an honor that you're interested in my research, Lord Hierarch."
Imajon's pride was genuine.
Made sense—in a martial world, climbing to Majon via research took insane effort.
If a Hierarch-level figure acknowledged it, even I'd pledge full loyalty.
"All this your research data?"
"Yes!"
Imajon's disciple, Gwang-yeon, had the rare dual dantian constitution, letting him become Hwasan's top disciple.
That was thanks to Imajon's experiments and great laws.
Maybe she could fix this body's blocked meridians.
So I did something that would enrage grad students worldwide, First Heavenly Demon included.
The Blood Cult already saw me as a madman anyway.
"Hand over all your research data. Every last bit."
Imajon's face fell.