Chapter 200
Chapter 200
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Back to the Divine Martial Academy (2)
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“The Blood Cult and the Heaven-Destroying Society?”
“Yes, it's certain.”
Yoran met his gaze and continued her explanation.
“From the information we've gathered, the Blood Cult Leader's behavior has been strange.”
“What exactly?”
“There are reports of unidentified groups coming and going from the Blood God Hall.”
“Outsiders entering the Blood God Hall...”
The Blood God Hall was the place enshrining the successive leaders of the Blood Cult.
It was a site the cultists regarded as extremely sacred, accessible only to those granted permission by the leader himself.
“That's definitely suspicious.”
“But this next part is the most important.”
She winked, her lips curving into a seductive smile.
“There are rumors that the Blood Cult Leader is cultivating some bizarre martial art.”
“...Don't tell me, an art that handles alien true energy?”
“Exactly. It's a hushed rumor, but...”
It was a bit disappointing, but this alone was significant progress.
Information from beyond the desert was extremely hard to come by. What more could be said about the Blood Cult's distant headquarters?
Above all, it was the heartland of the demonic forces, sharing the Ten Thousand Great Mountains with the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
The mere fact that even scraps of news could be heard was remarkable.
“You've worked hard.”
“The subordinate you assigned me was a great help.”
“That Dan-ya kid put in the effort.”
Yoran's ability to learn about desert affairs stemmed from none other than the Desert Assassins' Valley.
The ghosts ruling the desert nights had fully cooperated.
Of course, that didn't mean Yoran had it easy.
“Sifting through the intel from the desert must have been tough.”
“It's all for you, my lord.”
She smiled brightly, tilting the酒 bottle to refill his empty cup.
“The reports from various desert regions all align.”
“Something's definitely changed in the Blood Cult Leader's mind.”
“There's also word that he's trying to provoke the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.”
They claimed to be the twin peaks of the demonic path, but the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—inheriting the orthodox lineage of the Heavenly Demon Ancestor—had always been an insurmountable wall for the Blood Cult.
“Unless he's mad, he must have some confidence to pick a fight.”
“That's what I think too, my lord.”
“If the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult and Blood Cult clash... Just thinking about it is terrifying.”
In the past, they had repeatedly collided while vying for legitimacy in the demonic path, spilling rivers of blood.
What worried Chu Un-hwi was what came after.
“The blood of profound experts would make fine offerings for the Heaven-Destroying Society.”
“...You mean it aids in crafting Blood Dew Stones?”
“Yes. Nine times out of ten, they'll use the war's corpses as sacrifices on their altars to forge those stones.”
It had happened before.
“They stir up countless disturbances and battles to build their power. That's their way.”
He took a sip.
Chu Un-hwi downed the酒 rippling in his moonlit cup in one gulp and clicked his tongue.
“Things are moving faster than expected. It might be tough, but pass on any new intel as it comes.”
“Understood, my lord.”
“For now, tell the assassins and Hao Clan members to hold back. Demonic infighting is brutally vicious. You be careful too.”
“Hee-hee.”
Chu Un-hwi tilted his head at Yoran's burst of laughter despite his grave warning.
“...Why the laugh?”
She coyly turned her head, smiling slyly with narrowed eyes.
“Seeing you worry about me makes me think I'm still useful.”
“The Pavilion Master is always helpful to me.”
“Music to my ears, my lord.”
She refilled his cup, whispering in his ear under the moonlight.
“To think even a small help comforts you in your deep sorrow. I'm relieved.”
A hug.
Shaking off his thoughts, he flicked his fishing rod, and the shad leaped away.
“Missed again.”
Chu Un-hwi muttered, glaring at where the cheeky fish that took the bait had vanished.
“Fish are quick on the uptake too? Tch.”
For some reason, he wasn't in the mood for fishing today.
“The Blood Cult and Heaven-Destroying Society...”
Suddenly, the north wind seemed thick with the scent of blood.
After the Divine Martial Jianghu Tour ended and the mourning period passed, daily life had mostly returned to normal.
A few days before classes resumed, the first official event was held.
“Everyone, good work.”
It was a banquet.
According to Moyong Seon-ya, banquets were something that 'wouldn't go extinct even if the world ended, as long as bosses who love drinking parties remain.' And remarkably, the first official duty was a banquet.
Surprisingly, the senior instructor Jang Cheol-sim was hosting it.
“Everyone, raise your cups.”
Seated at the head, he turned to the instructors flanking him and lifted his cup.
“I know some haven't shaken off their grief. Neither have I. But how long can we wallow? We must move on.”
As he continued his somber toast, Yeo Mae-hong whispered beside him.
“Why is shaking off emotions always through a banquet?”
“I was just seriously pondering that myself.”
Squad Leader Instructor Yang Dae-cheol, who had overheard, chimed in.
“It's a tradition of the Divine Martial Academy.”
Look over there.
Among the instructors, there were empty seats here and there.
No people, but the cups were full, and steaming dishes were neatly arranged.
“Those are seats for the departed.”
“Ah, seats to share with lost comrades.”
“Exactly. Tonight's banquet is the final one with our gone comrades.”
As Yang the Squad Leader explained, Jang Cheol-sim shook his cup to end the toast, and the instructors raised theirs, clinking against the empty seats one by one.
As melancholic faces recalled the departed one by one, Chu Un-hwi briefly shared his thoughts.
“Isn't this wasting food?”
“Aren't you a bit too emotionally dry?”
“Yes, Instructor Chu is wrong this time.”
Why pick on me?
The world's harshness was lamentable, but there was a silver lining.
“Ghosts probably won't eat, so I'll finish it all.”
In the end, Yeo Mae-hong pinched him.
The start was solemn, but as the酒 flowed, some got roaring drunk.
In the now-lightened atmosphere, stuffing himself with酒 and food, Jang Cheol-sim approached.
“Did you come just to eat?”
“It's a banquet.”
A golden chance for free food on someone else's dime. Especially if that someone was the Divine Martial Academy's frugal budget exploiting cheap labor—shouldn't he eat till his belly burst?
“Mingle a bit, chat, build rapport.”
“Eating leaves leftovers.”
“Tch. You never just go along with words.”
He sipped.
Watching Jang Cheol-sim tilt his cup, he asked.
“Why stare like that?”
“Didn't expect a senior instructor to enjoy酒.”
“I learned after descending from the Qingcheng Sect. Mountain life was ascetic by default, but in the academy, skipping drinking parties caused all sorts of inconveniences.”
“I see.”
“Above all, the stories swapped at these gatherings are quite useful for academy life. Plenty you can't hear otherwise.”
“True enough.”p>
Those who had been gloomy were now chattering away as the酒 loosened their tongues.
Topics ranged from academy woes to personal tales, varied indeed.
Slurp. Slurp.
As he reached for food at a front empty seat—of a deceased instructor—Jang Cheol-sim jabbed his hand with chopsticks.
“You. Eyeing funeral rice too?”
“The living must live.”
“...Not wrong, but not for someone who devours living comrades' plates.”
Come on.
“Instructors avoid you lest you steal all the酒 and food. Banquets are for harmony and exchange, not hoarding the expensive stuff like a mole.”
“Noted.”
“After eating all the funeral rice?”
“You know it.”
“Ugh.”
Unable to watch, Yeo Mae-hong slid her plate over.
“Eat mine instead.”
“Thanks.”
Eat this, then that.
As he reached with chopsticks again.
Thud thud thud.
With small stomps, a voice came from the door.
“Wah! A banquet in progress! What luck!”
A young man in rough training garb entered.
Step. Step.
His appearance was quite shabby; sand poured from his shoes with each step, utterly beggar-like.
Yet no one stopped him due to his peculiar aura.
‘A strange one.’
First, his steps were light.
Playfully stomping yet perfectly balanced.
Other things caught the eye.
‘Impressive presence too?’
Since arriving at the academy, no one had gathered such refined energy.
Even Senior Instructor Jang Cheol-sim before him seemed a few levels below.
More captivating: despite the playful demeanor, a heavily restrained aura.
‘A considerable expert.’
Looking around, others hadn't grasped the man's power yet. Even Jang Cheol-sim.
‘Perfectly concealing his inner energy. Not a realm a young punk reaches easily.’
But setting aside thoughts, something grated.
His looks.
Shaggy hair covering eyes, messily draped garb exposing his chest loosely.
Blended with refined energy, his features drew the gaze.
“Instructor Chu. That guy.”
Yeo Mae-hong had noticed too.
“His outfit, his vibe. Oddly similar to you, Instructor Chu?”
Drunk Instructor Jo Hyeon beside her corrected.
“How to put it. Like an upgraded version of temporary instructor Chu Un-hwi?”
“Right. Tall and slender limbs, you know.”
His comrades betrayed him.
After all their time together, this evaluation.
“...Isn't that a bit harsh?”
Glaring sullenly at the man, he was now before Jang Cheol-sim.
“Who might you be...?”
“Oh? You don't recognize me?”
“Voice is familiar. Where have I seen you?”
“Haha. Senior Instructor, I'm hurt.”
The man laughed brightly, brushing back his hair. Gasps leaked from the female instructors.
Swish.
From glossy swaying locks emerged jade-like skin and a sculpted handsome face.
Amid the long hair: thin yet thick, softly curved eyebrows, and below, clear eyes.
That aside.
Straight nose and jaw like an artisan's careful carving, blended with bold masculine charm, captivating gazes.
A ominous feeling struck.
‘Wait... this bastard.’
An instructor who just by looking makes one feel good?
Squeak! Covering mouths, Instructor Jo Hyeon and other women pounding lovers' shoulders confirmed it.
“Ah! It's you!”
“Haha. Took you long enough? I've changed quite a bit.”
Lowering his bangs hid the rare handsome face; the women sighed wistfully.
‘Damn reactions.’
Some male instructors asked Jang Cheol-sim warily.
“You know him?”
“Of course. The one I've awaited eagerly.”
Grinning, Jang Cheol-sim pointed.
“Neung Pung-un. You've all heard of him.”
“Neung Pung-un? Rings a bell...”
Sudden exclamations erupted among instructors.
“Oh! Plum Blossom Storm Sword!”
“The youngest Plum Blossom Sword Expert, Hero Neung? Really?”
“My god. The talent from Mount Hua Sect.”
Jang Cheol-sim laughed heartily at the shocked instructors.
“Hahaha. You all know well.”
That's the one.
Pat on the shoulder; Neung Pung-un, smile gracing his lips, clasped fists and declared clearly.
“Plum Blossom Sword Expert Neung Pung-un of Mount Hua Sect! Arrived per orders for Silver Hall assignment!”
Amid the stunned assembly, Chu Un-hwi was certain.
‘This bastard... surely...’
You were the girl's first love?
The rival had appeared.