The Blood Immortal's Resolve
Once again, each of them had their own epilogue.
Gu-rap-ga-jon ran with all his might. The agony of defeat pressed down on his entire body like a crushing weight. His jaw clenched involuntarily, his breathing grew ragged, and heat rose to his head. Yet for the Ghost Immortal, this was neither his first defeat nor would it be his last. He was not the Sword Immortal—he was the Ghost Immortal. Victory tasted sweet to him and defeat bitter, but that was all there was to it.
In Gu-rap-ga-jon's view, the Returner Immortal was nothing more than a sentimental hypocrite. Still, there had been one part of his words that rang true: as long as one did not die, every problem could be reversed. Indeed, challenging the Sword Immortal this time had been a grave mistake. He had made various preparations in his own way, but they had been foolish ones. Trying to fight the greatest under heaven by actually fighting him—wasn't that like ignoring a smooth shortcut to take a long, winding mountain path?
He had not sought to win through combat. He simply wanted to possess more. Fighting the Sword Immortal had been merely one means to that end. If he had realized how stupid it was, he could have simply looked for another way. He could have avoided the man, deceived him, or—even if he absolutely had to eliminate him—there were countless methods that did not involve a direct confrontation. It was a shame to lose the foundation he had painstakingly built and to shed so much blood, but with enough time, those things could be fully restored. He had experienced far worse defeats many times before. If he gathered himself properly, he could probably keep more than half his blood. Considering the amount he had accumulated over the years, even half of that would be enough to ensure that ordinary insects wouldn't even dare obstruct him...
As he muttered this monologue to himself and kicked open the door leading to the surface, a brilliant golden light poured down.
The first emotion he felt was not pain, but bewilderment. He was certain he had lured the Sword Immortal in before midnight. He hadn't been able to count the time during their fight, but how could the sun already be rising in the middle of their battle? It didn't feel plausible at all that they had fought for a full four hours. Of course, plausible or not, the sunlight beating down on him was undeniably real.
His skin stung, then burned with a sharp, searing sensation. It wasn't particularly frightening. It was true that a vampire's blood would dry up and he would perish under the sun, but he wouldn't die instantly after mere moments of exposure. Moreover, he possessed the Relying on Death to Ascend to Immortality Qigong.
The ability of that qigong to mix blood without the Holy Grail stemmed from using mental techniques to manipulate blood essence. Applying that principle naturally made it far easier to protect one's blood essence from sunlight or flames. However, no matter how excellent the Relying on Death to Ascend to Immortality Qigong might be, stepping into a place flooded with sunlight without any preparation meant his eyes would inevitably burn, rendering him unable to see. And that was what decided the Ghost Immortal's fate.
With a single flick of a finger, the sunlight reflected from the patterned mirror transformed into over a dozen glowing white chains that bound the Ghost Immortal's limbs. At the same time, the golden strings sealing the jars placed in all directions unraveled with a sharp whipping sound, each producing a resonant hum at different pitches and thicknesses.
As if responding to those sounds, the blood vessels across Gu-rap-ga-jon's entire body bulged like crashing waves, trembling repeatedly as they rose and fell. A ghostly wail tore from his throat, only to scatter and dissolve amid the sound of true words. Moments later, even those true words finally ceased, and silence fell.
A tall woman dressed in ornate shamanic robes stepped forward. Only when she drew close enough for a single step did a voice finally emerge from her cracked throat.
"Are you an assassin sent by the Returner Immortal?"
"...I did receive some help. But he did not send me."
"Listen here."
Gu-rap-ga-jon lifted his head and met her eyes. The shaman's expression held neither hatred toward him nor joy at victory—it was utterly calm.
"Seeing you use sorcery, I assume you are the immortal's disciple. I know that you people cannot properly use that reincarnation technique of yours, and at best can only live twice."
"..."
"Do you not desire eternal life? From all the haphazard preparations you've made, you must know about me. I will grant you a completed version of the Relying on Death to Ascend to Immortality Qigong along with a small portion of blood essence."
"Eternal life... it is indeed something I have longed for."
Gu-rap-ga-jon flashed a smile of triumph.
The shaman, who had been quietly looking down at his chest as if in thought, raised her head once more and met his gaze.
"First, receive my blood in this vessel."
Instead of answering, the shaman drew a dagger adorned with magnificent golden decorations. Then, before Gu-rap-ga-jon could say anything, she drove the blade deep into his chest with all her strength. With a single twist of the knife, his chest split open and blood gushed forth like a spring.
Gu-rap-ga-jon muttered in a gurgling, phlegm-filled voice.
"What is this... you fool..."
"This is still somewhat unsatisfying. I shall take it all."
"Without the Relying on Death to Ascend to Immortality Qigong... it will all be useless..."
"I have it, so do not worry."
When Ju-tong-su-sa lifted the silk-covered book she had taken from her waist with her left hand, Gu-rap-ga-jon's eyes widened before the light in them quickly faded. His heart had been carved out.
The essence and power of a blood demon lay in its blood, and the place where its true essence resided was the heart. Therefore, while Gu-rap-ga-jon's body was withering and twisting as it bled out, his soul and blood essence still remained alive within that heart.
Ju-tong-su-sa gazed at the heart that was still spurting blood and twitching atop her palm. Countless people's expressions of agony and words of curse were etched into its blood vessels and muscles like scars. Since only the Ghost Immortal remained inside it now, eating this heart would not mean consuming them. They had already been crushed and melted away, ultimately becoming the Ghost Immortal's blood after leaving behind only those traces. Therefore, there was no reason to hesitate.
On the contrary, devouring this heart and turning the Ghost Immortal into the same wretched state would be the greatest revenge of all.
Ju-tong-su-sa Gi Ya-rin lifted the heart to her mouth, opened her lips, and squeezed with all her might.
Thus, the Holy Blood Ghost Immortal, Gu-rap-ga-jon, met his end.
Gi Ya-rin snapped her eyes open. The sunlight was harsh, and she could feel herself flowing through blood vessels inside a shell-like body.
"It seems to have gone well."
The Returner Immortal was smiling. However, a small stain marred his neatly trimmed beard, which Gi Ya-rin—who had always found his prim appearance irritating—found rather satisfying.
"It looks like things didn't go so well on your end."
"Well, things don't always go as one wishes. In any case, this matter was merely a bonus. I am more than satisfied that your task succeeded."
"How fortunate. Your complexion looks noticeably worse than usual, old man. I almost thought you were greatly heartbroken."
"Did it appear that way? Hehe, it seems even this body is growing old, so the blood no longer reaches my head properly."
Gi Ya-rin unraveled her lotus position and stood up. The Returner Immortal asked,
"Very well. So, what immortal title will you take?"
"Was I the one supposed to decide that?"
"There is no strict rule that someone must decide. Our sect's affairs are all like that—sometimes one decides for oneself, and at other times, someone else bestows a title."
"How sloppy."
"Why waste mental energy on such things?"
Gi Ya-rin stared blankly at the sky for a moment. The Returner Immortal waited quietly. Before long, she spoke softly.
"...I shall be the Blood Immortal."
"Blood Immortal? Since you command blood, does that mean Blood Immortal?"
"The work I intend to do will mostly involve making some bleed in order to spare far more blood in the end. Therefore, I must become an immortal who weighs the value of blood better than anyone else. That is why I choose Blood Immortal."
"Ho, that sounds quite fitting."
The Returner Immortal nodded repeatedly in short, approving motions.
"Good. Then I shall bestow the first two characters for you."
"There is no set rule for that either?"
"One does fill in the first two characters to indicate the method by which one attains eternal life, but there is no fixed rule about who bestows them. Holy Blood Immortal sounds awkward, and from the start, you do not seem to regard that blood as holy. How about Seizing Life Blood Immortal?"
"Seizing life... you mean taking it away?"
"You will have to take even more, won't you?"
"..."
The Blood Immortal, who had been pondering for a while, shook her head.
"Seizing life does not seem right."
"Hmm, why not?"
"That life did not originally belong to the Ghost Immortal. The lives I will reap in the future should not merely be taken from them either. Lending Life Blood Immortal would be more appropriate."
"My, your obsession with purity is quite something."
As the Returner Immortal teased her, the Blood Immortal did not turn to look at him. He asked again.
"You said you would overturn the world. Where will you begin?"
"First, I will gather people."
"Are you planning to create a new sect instead of the Mount Mo faction?"
"It should not be a sect, but a teaching order."
A sect was a clan, and a faction was a political group. Such gatherings usually prioritized gaining and protecting their own power over any clumsy teachings, which was why they were called sects. But if people gathered to make the world more prosperous, comfortable, and fair, then they were not gathering for the safety of their own group but to uphold a single ideal. Therefore, it must be called a teaching.
Upon hearing this, the Returner Immortal asked again.
"Then, since it is a teaching created by the Blood Immortal, shall it be the Blood Teaching?"
"...I will call it the Save the World Teaching."
No matter how much she spoke of weighing the value of blood and choosing the title of Blood Immortal, she had no intention of naming her organization the Blood Teaching. Just hearing it made it sound like a den of madmen who thought nothing of spilling blood during their rituals.
"We are one step too late."
Doan Jin-in, the Sword Immortal, murmured as he looked down at the chaotic streets beyond the railing. Namgung Ho, who had just delivered the bad news, answered cautiously.
"There is quite a distance between Wuhan and Luoyang, so it could not be helped. It is truly regrettable that the Northwest Military Headquarters did not provide proper assistance."
The distance from Wuhan—where the investigation team including the two of them had been staying—to Luoyang was similar to the distance from the Northwest Military Headquarters. However, whether because they had received advance notice or not, the Northwest side had departed much earlier. By the time they arrived, the Moonflower Pavilion, Prince Han's Palace, and the Henan Academy had already been occupied.
Normally, the Nine Great Sects and Seven Great Families carried titles and maintained smooth relations with the court according to their names, so they would never receive poor treatment from any government office. However, the Northwest Military Headquarters was not an ordinary office but a military camp, and this incident was directly tied to the imperial family and the government. They had simply repeated like parrots that the group should discuss the matter once an official from the Ministry of Justice arrived, then drove them away.
"Still, won't things change once people from the Ministry of Justice arrive? Isn't Lord Do, who has deep ties to our family, currently serving there?"
It was nothing new for military officials to be less friendly with martial artists than civil officials were. The army existed to fight foreign invaders in the name of the Heavenly Dynasty, while the martial world had been officially recognized for their contributions during the founding of the dynasty and for their role in fighting for the country in times of crisis. Their roles overlapped to some degree, but there was also a childish pride contest between warriors over who was stronger. On the other hand, civil officials had no particular reason to be hostile, so it was common to find someone who had studied for the civil service exams at the Huashan Sect in their youth or someone sponsored by the Namgung family.
That was why he suggested waiting until the civil officials from the Ministry of Justice arrived, but the Sword Immortal shook his head.
"We cannot expect much. Even if they are soldiers, who do you think intended for the Northwest Military Headquarters to move instead of the Kaifeng Prefect or the Weizhou Magistrate?"
If this was the will of the court—or rather, of those above it—then relying on personal connections or favors would be useless. Namgung Ho, understanding the implication, let out a low groan.
"Then... shall we send people in secret?"
"Don't even think about it. You could end up committing a grave offense. Instead, contact Jipmudang for now."
"Jipmudang, you say. That is true, we should make use of whatever clues we have..."
Although they had not been able to enter the attacked Moonflower Pavilion, they had learned about the guests that day through the staff who worked there. The only guest who could be considered related to the martial world was a group from Jipmudang, but they had already left for somewhere else after the incident, making it impossible to track them down.
"However, could the Jipmudang investigator truly be a pawn of the Demonic Cult? That person is..."
"I am not suspecting the Jipmudang investigator. It's just that sometimes the world flows in strange ways even if one does not harbor ill intentions oneself."
Unlike the common prejudice people held toward retired elders of previous generations, the Sword Immortal was quite well-informed about current affairs. Not only in his prime but even now, he had never devoted himself solely to the lofty realms of martial arts. He had always been an interfering busybody who kept his ears tuned to the state of the martial world. It was only natural.
From what he had heard, a few months ago a popular tale called Yu Baek Biography had been evaluated as a masterpiece by the Jipmudang investigator and had become extremely popular. Right after that, Yu Baek had appeared in the world, followed by the incident at Wugeuk Castle. And now, the only person from Jipmudang had been present at Moonflower Pavilion when nearly a hundred soldiers were killed.