Chapter 198
Chapter 198
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Farewell, and Enlightenment (4)
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"...The leader of the Blood Cult, Gu Il-so. The Blood Demon is none other than the Seventh Apostle."
"Blood Demon Cult Leader Gu Il-so?"
At the unexpected response, Pung Gaek hurriedly added,
"It's hard to believe, I know. The Blood Cult was once known to have fallen after vying for supremacy with the Heavenly Demon Cult."
But surprisingly, the Blood Cult still exists.
"Rumor has it they even threaten the Heavenly Demon Cult's prestige."
This was a fact unknown to the world.
Events related to the Great Desert beyond the Long Wall and the even more distant Hundred Thousand Great Mountains were barely known in the jianghu.
'He doesn't believe me?'
Pung Gaek looked troubled at the calm reaction, unsure how to explain.
But fortunately,
"What? Did the dog we left to guard the house turn traitor?"
The other man accepted it without suspicion, as if it were no big deal.
'Guard dog?'
It was problematic that he spouted such incomprehensible nonsense, but still.
"Do you even know how fearsome the Blood Cult is?"
Pung Gaek shouted, flustered instead.
"Their vicious demonic arts put even the Heavenly Demon Cult beneath them. Their bizarre sorceries only amplify their horror."
The Blood Cult's terror wasn't just from demonic arts.
Their various sorceries and grotesque techniques often surpassed even the Heavenly Demon Cult.
"It's said that just the Blood Cult's Dharma Protectors, led by their cult leader, nearly annihilated the Kunlun Sect, one of the Nine Great Sects."
"Enough of that."
The young man cut him off curtly.
"Are you still hoping for the Mangcheon Society's downfall?"
"...What are you trying to say?"
"Investigate the other Apostles. You lot eye each other like hawks and chickens, but you should be able to track their whereabouts."
"How could you possibly..."
The young man, who stated so casually what even heaven wouldn't know, turned away and uttered,
"Ah! The Sixth Apostle—that traitor dog—will die before this winter ends."
"In just two months?"
"Yes. Find out about the Sixth Apostle by then."
I'll kill them one by one.
With that declaration, the young man vanished without another word.
Pararak!
Finally free from the crushing pressure that had gripped his entire body, Pung Gaek let out a sigh of relief.
It felt like death had brushed right past him.
"The world is vast, but I never imagined a monster like that existed."
Was this fortune or misfortune?
Pung Gaek couldn't decide.
The Mangcheon Society's bloodbath following the appearance of the demonic beings.
The unforeseen bloodshed devoured countless lives.
The Divine Martial Academy suffered particularly heavy losses.
Many instructors who had ventured into the jianghu perished, and no small number of students did as well.
Yet no one considered it fortunate.
The victims of this bloodbath far outnumbered the academy's losses.
The minor sects suffered the worst.
Having fought the fiercest battles at the Nangong Family's request, much of their castles burned in the enemy Yeom Dae's flames.
Some lost over half their disciples and had to declare closure before their charred halls.
But before they could face this harsh reality, another piece of grim news arrived.
The death of Wang Wu, the last survivor of the Kunlun Sect and revered as the Great Old Master.
"Sob... Elder Wang Wu."
"Heaven is truly heartless."
"Even the last hope of the Kunlun Sect is gone."
As everyone wept in unison, Dokgo Yul calmly oversaw the funeral.
Seeing him hold his position solemnly, suppressing his grief, people sent him sympathetic glances.
"Must be tough on him."
"Wasn't he the only true master he acknowledged from the heart?"
"They say he was so close it seemed more like father and son than master and disciple."
"I hope he overcomes his sorrow."
However, some looked puzzled at a figure sitting alone in a corner of the funeral.
"Instructor Chu Un-hwi on temporary assignment?"
"Why is he attending Elder Wang's funeral as a guest of honor?"
"Yeah, only those befitting Elder Wang's stature were formally invited."
It was natural to question why someone who wasn't even a full instructor, just on temporary duty, sat in the front row.
But a few who knew of Wang Wu and Chu Un-hwi's relationship whispered,
"Didn't you hear? Before passing, Elder Wang taught Instructor Chu the Kunlun martial arts. He favored him greatly."
"Elder Wang himself?"
"That explains his sudden surge in skill..."
"Elder Wang was behind it. Truly remarkable."
"That guy's lucky. No wonder they call him the Luckiest Sword."
Mixed with envy and jealousy, the funeral ended, and Wang Wu's body was placed atop the pyre.
"I won't forget Elder Wang's spirit."
Unusually, the cremation was handled by Flame Light Blade Demon Ma Gil-sang.
The renowned Top Ten Wanderer Swordsman shed tears himself, escorting a jianghu senior on his final journey.
Hwaruruk.
The solemn flames spread to the wood, devouring people's sorrow as they blazed fiercely for a long time.
Finally, Wang Wu remained as a handful of ashes within the flames.
After the funeral, when all had retired for the night.
Only one person remained in the now-empty grounds.
Sitting motionless like a stone statue, eyes fixed on the spirit tablet.
Dokgo Yul, recognizing him, cautiously approached and sat beside.
Only then did the statue speak.
"I'm sorry, Yul-ah."
"...My lord."
"Sorry for taking your father's gaze until the very end."
His voice thick with emotion made Dokgo Yul's eyes well up.
"Truly sorry."
Seeing his sunken eyes, Dokgo Yul swallowed the surging grief in his chest.
He read profound sorrow in his ever-strong lord's haggard form.
Dokgo Yul knew well.
His lord followed his father even more devotedly than he did, perhaps.
And now, he wept with his whole body.
"It's fine. He was stubborn by nature, wasn't he?"
Dokgo Yul tried to comfort him, pushing aside his own sorrow.
"...You rascal."
A faint spark of life returned to his lord, who had sat like a stone.
Dokgo Yul offered the urn of ashes.
"Here for you, my lord."
"...Keep Father's ashes yourself."
"Wouldn't he prefer to be by his lord's side more than his own son?"
At least decide on a burial place.
"Father would like that too."
"...Would he?"
Chu Un-hwi, gazing silently at the urn, muttered.
"Keep it for now. I'll return to the Blood Cult soon."
"To the Blood Cult?"
"Father Sima would prefer to be buried in his homeland."
"That's true, but..."
The sudden proposal was deeply touching, but Dokgo Yul hesitated to respond.
"Because of the Blood Cult's laws?"
"...If you feel guilty over Father's death, it's okay. Don't bring hardship on yourself."
Reading anxiety in Dokgo Yul's voice, Chu Un-hwi smiled maturely.
"Don't worry. I have a plan."
"......"
Dokgo Yul struggled to speak.
The Blood Cult's laws were ruthless.
'Especially what my lord violated—the cult's First Precept.'
He had broken the foremost rule even the cult leader must not defy, so returning was impossible.
Wasn't that why Dark Soul Black Wind Master followed his lord into the world yet couldn't return to the Blood Cult— for breaking the laws?
- First Precept.
Only death allows leaving the cult leader and members behind.
The Blood Cult's closed doctrine rejected apostates utterly.
'He might even have to draw his sword against old acquaintances.'
Reading his troubled expression, a deflating sigh escaped.
"You don't trust me, huh."
"No. When you're like this, nothing is impossible for you, my lord."
It was sincere.
When his lord shed his instructor guise, he was an absolute being who could achieve anything.
"Then trust and wait."
How can one be truly free if bound by doctrines?
Muttering, his lord gently stroked the urn.
The sight was so reverent and affectionate that Dokgo Yul watched silently for a long while.
"In the name of the Nangong Family, I thank all you heroes."
As the funeral ended, the awards ceremony began immediately.
The Nangong Family explained it was to lift the pervasive gloom, but.
Moyong Seon-ya, versed in politics, pointed out their true aim.
"That's not the only reason."
"Sister, is there more?"
"The Nangong Family lost a lot of face this time. They want to host a grand event to restore their dignity."
"Troublesome reasons."
"As the supreme family under heaven, they have much to manage."
The reasons were somewhat presumptuous, but not entirely bad.
Her own name was among those receiving awards for great merits.
On the splendidly decorated platform.
With fellow instructors watching, Nangong Family Head Nangong Mu-san ascended personally.
"Temporary Instructor Chu Un-hwi."
After several calls, Chu Un-hwi took the stage, and Nangong Mu-san spoke sternly.
"We thank you for your valor."
Pale-faced but unflinching, continuing the event—it seemed being family head was no easy task.
"I heard many instructors and students survived thanks to you."
Nangong Mu-san continued sincerely.
"Yong-ho also survived because of you. Before being the family head, as a father, I offer my thanks."
Clap clap clap clap!
Applause erupted from the instructors before he finished.
Whispers of 'Lucky again' and 'Him again?' floated from somewhere, but.
'I'll remember and smash them later.'
"Cease your pointless envy. Do you think this hall lies?"
"The senior instructor is right. His combat prowess is truly extraordinary."
"His sense in leading battles is not to be underestimated."
The consolation was his fellow instructors' support.
Thus, the now friendlier instructors murmured.
"Can't dismiss him as temporary anymore."
"Not just skill—the family head is paying attention."
"Better watch he doesn't steal our students."
"Yeah, my kids under me want to switch instructors already."
"After such feats, students will line up for his guidance."
Amid ominous voices, Chu Un-hwi recalled something.
'Come to think of it, Baek Ri-seol cried.'
- The dark assassins are targeting Instructor!
Like Baek Ri-seol, Nangong Yun-ho and Jegal Tan reacted similarly.
- Interest in Instructor is immense.
- If promoted to full instructor, won't students flock?
At the foreboding premonition, he glanced ahead to see the infamous rice husk.
Someone notoriously unhelpful despite fame in the Eight Thousand Apostles battle.
'If I play it right, I could solve a headache at once.'
With Blood Cult visits and Mangcheon dealings ahead, he'd be busy.
No desire to invite extra hassle.
'Let's see.'
As he racked his brain, Nangong Mu-san finished his praise.
"...That is all."
Gazing at Nangong Mu-san, Chu Un-hwi spoke.
"One thing I'm curious about."
"What is it?"
"I made a promise with Elder Nangong Il-jun. Do you know?"
Ah, that?
Nangong Mu-san glanced at Nangong Il-jun and nodded.
"I heard. You asked in our family's name?"
"Glad you didn't forget."
"We don't forget promises. We're not so petty as to renege on one sworn by our family."
"Simple then. Here's my proposal."
So casually?
Nangong Mu-san tilted his head puzzled but answered readily, true to his word.
"Fine. Let's hear it."
Ooh—.
Instructors' eyes gleamed with anticipation.
The supreme Nangong head had declared to grant his wish.
Vast gold?
Perhaps martial arts manuals.
Or rare elixirs.
Below the platform, instructors speculated eagerly.
But the request that emerged shattered all expectations.
"Just stand there still."
"Huh? Like this?"
As expectant onlookers doubted their ears,
"Yeah. Exactly. All talk, no bite."
Jeup!
Grinning, Chu Un-hwi unleashed a thunderbolt fist into Nangong Mu-san's jaw.
"Guhk!"
Kudangtang!
Looking down at the toppling Nangong Mu-san amid the clamor, Chu Un-hwi cracked his knuckles.
"Ah. My hand itched to deck you for real, and now I feel refreshed."
As he raised his foot,
"Stop him!"
The watching Thousand Swords of Clear Sky Brigade and instructors swarmed the platform.
"Hey, why! You said you'd honor the promise!"
This is invalid!
Cowardly Nangong Family!
Pinned under people, the mad dog howled, and all shook their heads.
Once the Divine Martial Academy's grandest event, the Divine Martial Jianghu Expedition to properly train true jianghu folk,
ended in sorrow, pain,
grief, and shock.
It was the day autumn winds began carrying winter's chill.