Chapter 109
Chapter 109
Judgment (1)
Namgung Baek had been unable to sleep properly each night, haunted by endless nightmares.
His retainers grew increasingly worried as his face became more gaunt with each passing day, but none could offer a true solution.
The nightmares were not born from physical ailment—they were a sickness of the mind.
"My son. Whether the Dark Faction is our enemy or the rats hiding in the shadows, it matters not."
"What matters is that we now hold—no, that I hold—the perfect opportunity to forge a new order for this era!"
Every night, his father's visage, tainted by madness, filled his dreams.
Amidst the unstoppable chaos sweeping through the martial world, his father, Namgung Myeong, had smiled—as if pleased by it all.
No matter how deep the bond between father and son ran, how could he stand idly by while the world was drenched in blood?
Yet, with his own strength so feeble, he knew he could never stop the entire Namgung Family alone. Thus, he was trapped in endless torment and contemplation.
But two days ago, a letter from the Alliance Leader had breached seven layers of defenses to appear in his quarters.
Ah... So the Alliance Leader already knows everything.
And on that day, Namgung Baek steadied his wavering resolve and set his mind anew.
Whoosh.
At the same time, his once-hazy consciousness slowly sharpened into clarity.
Pushing aside the dull ache in his body, Namgung Baek slowly opened his eyes.
'What...?'
Yet darkness still shrouded his vision.
A strip of cloth covered his eyes.
He tried to remove it, but his limbs refused to respond. No words escaped his lips.
'The Mute and Paralysis Pressure Points have been sealed.'
With these points sealed, speech and movement were impossible.
It seemed this was the work of the Masked Man after the martial contest had ended.
Namgung Baek calmly gathered what other information he could.
The rattling of wheels and faint cries reached his ears.
He deduced he was being transported in the cargo hold of a carriage.
A cloth strip bound his eyes, and a gag filled his mouth.
It was as if he had been kidnapped.
"Tch. Finally awake, are we? For a bunch who couldn't even put up a proper fight, you sure slept like the dead."
"—!!"
At that moment, a rough, familiar voice reached his ears.
It was none other than the Masked Man's.
"Remove the blindfold."
Rustle.
At the Masked Man's command, someone pulled away the cloth covering his eyes.
A sinister-looking middle-aged man stared down at them.
'This man...!'
Namgung Baek and the others instantly recognized him—this was the Masked Man who had subdued them.
As they glared at him with eyes full of curses, the middle-aged man let out a mocking laugh.
"Kukuku. Don't bother guessing who I am. I'm wearing a Human-Skin Mask anyway."
"...!"
"Unlike you lot, my identity must never be exposed to the outside world."
His icy gaze swept over them as he continued.
"But really, you couldn't even last five exchanges. What made you so cocky?"
"...!"
The pupils of Namgung Baek and the others trembled violently.
The accusation was too humiliating to refute.
Rather than anger, they felt something closer to awe at the man's skill.
Now they understood why the Alliance Leader had appointed this man as their leader despite his abrasive personality—his strength was undeniable.
"Now you see it, don't you? Just how drunk you were on empty fame."
"...."
"If I were a Demon Cultist, you'd all be dead where you stand."
"...!"
"And yet you dared to strut around with that pitiful strength. Hah. Aren't you ashamed before the Alliance Leader?"
Each word struck like a dagger to their hearts.
Namgung Baek, too, fell into deep thought.
'He's right. No matter the difference in skill, we couldn't even put up a proper fight...'
Any anger they had felt toward the man's rudeness had long since faded.
This middle-aged man—no, their Team Leader—possessed strength far beyond his rank.
All that remained for the young elites was regret and frustration.
At this rate, they would soon arrive at a secluded area near Kaifeng, where they would undoubtedly be dismissed.
The thought of squandering this opportunity granted by the Alliance Leader himself weighed heavily on their hearts.
But then—
"Personally, I'd love to fail all of you and leave, but the situation is dire enough that even half-wits like you must be used. It's infuriating."
"...!"
"Sigh. Fine. I'll give you one last chance."
"!!"
A last chance?
The Team Leader's words were entirely unexpected.
Just as hope flickered in the eyes of Namgung Baek and the others—
The carriage curtain lifted, revealing a young man who appeared to be in his twenties.
"They're here."
Likely the masked figure who had delivered the letter to their quarters.
Like the Team Leader, he wore a Human-Skin Mask.
"Good. Let's begin."
"Understood."
At the middle-aged man's command, the young man returned to the driver's seat.
Hum!
At the same time, a faint surge of internal energy gathered at the Team Leader's fingertip with a resonant hum.
"It'll shake a bit. Bear the pain if it hurts."
Wait, what was he—
Crack!
The Team Leader's finger-force abruptly pierced through one of the carriage wheels.
Thud!
Crash!
With one wheel shattered, the carriage lurched violently.
Still paralyzed, the young elites suffered as they were tossed about inside.
Screech!
But the ordeal was brief—soon, the carriage came to a halt.
'...What is this?'
Just as Namgung Baek was bewildered—
"Oh no, what do we do?"
"A-Are they badly hurt?"
A clamor of voices rose from outside.
The voices carried the simple, earnest concern of ordinary villagers.
"Hey there! Are you alright?"
The worried voice drew closer to the carriage.
"Ugh... N-No, we're fine."
At that moment, the Team Leader lifted the curtain and stepped outside.
Sighs of relief echoed from all around.
"You all came running in concern, I see. Are you from a nearby village?"
"That's right. Looks like your wheel's broken—are you sure no one's hurt?"
"Yes, yes. By sheer luck, we're all unharmed."
"Whew, what a relief."
The young elites could only see shadows cast against the carriage.
A dozen or so villagers stood before the Team Leader.
"Oh dear, the wheel and its joint are completely shattered. This won't be easy to fix."
"Gasp! Really?"
"Could you wait here a moment? We'll hurry back to the village and fetch some tools."
"Oh, if you'd do that, we'd be endlessly grateful."
"Haha, you must be eager to leave this backwater village behind."
"Indeed."
"Hey, Ho-Sam, hurry back and gather what we need."
"Ah! Now that I think about it, that won't be necessary."
"Huh? What do you—?!"
The villagers froze in confusion at the sudden remark.
Thunk!
Squelch!
Without warning, the chilling sound of flesh being pierced echoed through the air.
A sound the villagers had surely never heard before—
'What?!'
But one all too familiar to the young elites.
Thud.
Crash.
The shadows of the villagers cast against the curtain collapsed simultaneously.
The mysterious sound was that of blades piercing flesh.
Yet the Team Leader had not emitted the slightest surge of energy—no frost, no killing intent.
And yet, the villagers' heartbeats had all ceased.
Whoosh!
Finally freed from their paralysis, the young elites rushed out in panic.
"...!!"
And then they froze as if struck by lightning.
A horrific massacre lay before them.
Scattered across the ground were the corpses of villagers, their eyes still wide open in death.
"W-What is this?"
Peng So-hye, stunned, covered her mouth with her hand.
To slaughter innocent villagers so suddenly—
It was beyond comprehension.
"What kind of madness is this?!"
"No matter what orders you received, we cannot condone this!"
Peng Dae-ho and Nam Moo-jin roared with veins bulging in their necks.
Yet the Team Leader remained utterly unfazed, as if the massacre meant nothing.
After a moment, he spoke calmly.
"Don't act rashly. Do you want to alert the enemy that their scouts have been eliminated?"
"...Scouts?"
"What do you mean?"
Crunch.
"—!!"
At the sudden, grotesque sound, everyone turned.
Namgung Baek was crouched over one of the villagers' corpses.
As the others stared in confusion, he straightened up.
'That's...!'
In his hand was a Human-Skin Mask identical to the one worn by the Team Leader.
Beneath the mask was the scarred face of a martial artist.
Those who had been furious with the Team Leader fell silent.
With a grave expression, Namgung Baek slowly asked,
"...Who were these people?"
"Honestly, are your eyes just for decoration?"
The Team Leader clicked his tongue and lightly kicked a corpse's pressure point.
Whoosh!
"They're Demonic Cultists."
"!!"
A clear surge of demonic energy seeped from the corpse's body.
Just as the Team Leader had said—these were all Demonic Cultists.
Shock washed over the young elites.
As silence settled, the Team Leader spoke again.
"Look with your eyes, but question everything you see."
"...!"
"Examine their temples. They hid it with headbands, but look closely—their Taiyang Pressure Points are swollen."
"!!"
Upon inspection, it was true.
The Taiyang Pressure Point, located at the temple, would bulge noticeably when one's internal energy reached a profound level—a trait impossible to conceal.
An easily overlooked detail, given their peasant disguises, yet the Team Leader had caught it.
"Moreover, their clothes are shabby, yet strangely, none show signs of sweat. And despite their attire, their shoes are spotless—no dust at all. They were disguised, but they've been indoors."
With each word, the young elites grew more speechless.
Only now, hearing his explanation, could they spot the inconsistencies. Had they been alone, they would have missed every single clue.
Beyond their line of sight, a peaceful-looking village, its chimneys puffing smoke, came into view.
Before, it had seemed like any other tranquil mountain village.
Now, it looked utterly terrifying.
"...Where exactly is this?"
Namgung Baek murmured.
All eyes turned to the Team Leader.
Their gazes held the same question.
The Team Leader answered.
"The stronghold of the fiends we've been pursuing."
That is—
"The Blood Cult's forward outpost."