Chapter 57: The Blood Cult
Chapter 57
The Blood Cult
Blood Demon Mountain.
A secret location unknown even to the most elite intelligence organizations of both the orthodox and unorthodox factions—neither the Beggars' Sect nor the Howling Moon Gate knew of its existence, let alone its whereabouts.
Here, deep within the crimson mist so thick that one couldn't see an inch ahead, lay the headquarters of the Blood Cult. Past the opulent palaces grander than any imperial palace, past the towering halls, at the very heart of this labyrinth, the air itself was saturated with eerie formations—dozens of overlapping, grotesque arrays designed to protect the master of this domain.
And now, within the grand hall of this inner sanctum, a gathering of demons was taking place.
"Hmm, it seems the only ones yet to arrive are the First Elder and the Tenth Elder," said the Second Elder, Ghost Shadow—known as the Blood Brain—his ghostly eyes gleaming as he addressed the other four elders present.
Five of the Blood Cult's Ten Elders had assembled in one place.
Yet, for some reason, apart from Ghost Shadow, the rest of the elders seemed deeply unsettled.
"...Amitabha. While the three lords performing missions in the Central Plains and beyond may be excused, why must those two make even this humble monk wait?"
"My thoughts exactly, bald monk. How dare that blind fool keep me waiting?"
The Fifth Elder, Death Buddha—the Death Buddha—furrowed his brow as he spoke, and the Seventh Elder, the Twin Fiends of Asura, echoed his irritation.
Though it was merely a slight delay in the meeting, the elders radiated murderous intent. They were demons before they were members of the Blood Cult—beings who would slaughter and trample others for reasons far pettier than this.
Then, Ghost Shadow spoke with deliberate provocation.
"Hoho, I suspect the Tenth Elder is clinging to the First Elder's coattails, refusing to accept his own obsolescence. That must be why they're so late."
"...!"
"Ah."
The other elders let out sounds of realization, their expressions twisting into open mockery and disdain for the Poison Demon.
"Obsolescence? Coattails? What does that mean?"
Only one among them remained clueless—a man who appeared no older than thirty, tilting his head in confusion.
The Ninth Elder, the White Yaksha, Heo So-chang.
The youngest to ascend to his position by beheading the previous Ninth Elder, he had already reached the peak of the Flower Realm. But despite his overwhelming martial talent, his intelligence was widely regarded as lacking.
"Explain! What do you mean by obsolescence?"
"Tch, pathetic. To be this dull-witted..."
"—!"
The Eighth Elder, the Black Bone Witch, Yo Ui-rim, clicked her tongue and sneered at Heo So-chang.
"With rumors spreading like wildfire that the Poison Demon lost not just his sight but also an arm during his reckless solo mission, why do you think the Sword Demon sought him out separately?"
"..."
"Could it be to deliver the news that a worm like you is being removed from the Elder Council today, brat? Ugh, this is why I said muscle-brained idiots shouldn't be made elders."
"...Say one more word. I'll rip out your tongue right here."
"Hmph, with that pitiful strength of yours?"
Whoosh—!
Crack—!
In an instant, the two elders' vicious demonic auras clashed, engulfing the surroundings.
The Blood Cult was composed of the Nine Great Demon Sects, and here stood the leaders of the Yaksha Sect and the Ghost Bone Sect, poised to tear into each other—
Creak—!
Suddenly, the grand hall's tightly shut doors swung open.
The First Elder, the Sword Demon, Jo Yang-pung, strode inside.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"!!"
His voice, thick with fury, boomed through the hall.
Instantly, Heo So-chang and Yo Ui-rim froze mid-confrontation, their bodies stiffening.
But it wasn't just them—every elder present stiffened in shock.
And yet, their reaction wasn't solely due to the Sword Demon.
It was because of the other presence that had entered alongside him.
"Kihihi, kihi. Spoiling the fun before the fight even starts."
"Such a shame. I was hoping for fresh corpses to harvest."
Clad in a pitch-black robe that obscured his form, the madman let out a bizarre laugh.
The Poison Demon, Ya Yul-seung.
The aura radiating from him was incomparable to the last time they had seen him—an absurdly monstrous, overwhelming miasma of poison.
'How in the world—?'
'...Has his poison mastery advanced this much?'
This was not the same Poison Demon who had been regarded as the weakest among the elders for years.
A terrifying, razor-sharp killing intent emanated from his body, surpassing even the White Yaksha's aura.
The Poison Demon's mastery had reached the peak of the Flower Realm—so close to its absolute limit that it was practically brushing against the threshold of the Mystic Realm.
And poison arts were always considered a tier above conventional martial arts.
Meaning that, as he stood now, the Poison Demon was on the verge of stepping into the Mystic Realm.
Moreover, while poison practitioners often faced stagnation—some never breaking through—once that barrier was shattered, their growth accelerated explosively.
If luck favored him...
'...He could reach the peak of the Mystic Realm within a year.'
He might soon wield power beyond anything they had seen before.
In that moment, every elder shared the same thought:
The long-stagnant hierarchy of the Ten Elders was about to be violently overturned.
'Damn it all! This is absurd—!!'
Heo So-chang couldn't hide the turmoil on his face—and for good reason.
In an instant, he had fallen to the bottom of the Ten Elders' rankings, replaced by the Poison Demon.
Then, Ghost Shadow—the first to finish calculating the implications—smiled slyly at Ya Yul-seung, his earlier mockery completely gone.
"I congratulate you on your breakthrough, Elder Ya. I had no idea your seclusion was for cultivation..."
"Kihihit, shut up."
"Pardon?"
"Your scheming thoughts are too loud, you worthless trash."
"—!"
Ghost Shadow's expression froze at the insult.
Just as another clash seemed imminent, the Sword Demon spoke words none had expected.
"Save your squabbles for later. The time for reception has come."
"Kihihit. Yeah, yeah."
"??"
While the Poison Demon stepped back without protest, the other elders were bewildered.
Reception?
In the Blood Cult, there was only one being worthy of such reverence—their master, the Blood Demon.
But that was impossible.
Six months ago, the Blood Demon had entered seclusion to perfect his divine techniques, sealing himself away.
He had declared his training would last a year—half of that time still remained...
Rumble—!
Whoooosh—!
"!!"
"!!!"
A seismic wave of energy, as if the world itself were collapsing, swept through the hall.
The pupils of the five elders—excluding the Sword Demon and the Poison Demon—trembled violently, as if struck by an earthquake.
Those seated scrambled to their feet—
Thud!
Thud-thud!
Then, without hesitation, they dropped to the ground, pressing their foreheads against the floor.
At that moment—
[The Lord of Ten Thousand Demons has descended!]
[All sects shall prostrate themselves in worship!]
Two voices, distinct yet equally thunderous, shook the hall.
The sheer force in those words forced the elders to suppress the blood rising in their throats.
Boom—!
Rumble—!
As the overwhelming demonic aura of the Mystic Realm's absolute peak saturated the air—
The Right Guardian, the Blood Wheel Asura, and the Left Guardian, the Silent Demon Sovereign, appeared.
Cold sweat dripped down the elders' backs.
Unlike the leaders of the Nine Great Demon Sects, the Blood Cult's Twin Guardians had only one duty—
Whoooosh—!
Crack—!
...To protect their master.
An aura so overwhelming it rendered the Mystic Realm's peak insignificant erupted forth.
Shudder.
The elders, who had once carried themselves with pride, now trembled in terror.
It felt as though every fiber of their being had been seized by an unseen force.
Though none dared lift their heads, they could sense his presence through sheer instinct.
'Guhk!'
'Huff, huff!'
Without even seeing him enter, they knew—
Their master, the Blood Demon, now sat upon the throne at the center of the grand hall.
The moment this realization struck—
"Blood Demon's return—Ten Thousand Demons bow in reverence!"
"Demonic Path reigns supreme—The Divine Cult shall endure a thousand years!"
The elders shouted with veins bulging in their necks.
Yet inwardly, they were drowning in confusion.
'...What could possibly warrant this?'
Their shock stemmed from one fact:
This was the first time the Blood Demon had ever gone against his own decree.
-One year later, the grand scheme shall begin.
Those were his words—yet here he was, breaking them.
The Blood Demon's eyes, gleaming with an unfathomable, dangerous light, seemed to pierce through everything.
Among those prostrating, only one remained kneeling on a single knee—the Poison Demon.
"How dare—!"
"Silence!"
The Twin Guardians seethed with fury but did not act—their master had not commanded it.
But they didn't need to.
Splat—!
Before they could, the Poison Demon collapsed, blood gushing from his seven orifices.
"Kih, kihi. Guess this is my limit for now."
Crumbling to his knees, Ya Yul-seung muttered with amusement.
The Blood Demon watched him with eyes as cold as winter's desolation, devoid of any emotion, before speaking softly.
"Heal him."
"...As you command."
Whoosh—!
In an instant, the Blood Wheel Asura swept the Poison Demon into his arms and vanished from the hall.
Watching them leave, the Blood Demon murmured words too quiet for any to hear:
"...So it was. It began there."
The six elders shuddered in terror.
Then, the Blood Demon—who had been observing them as one would lifeless objects—spoke again.
"We shall accelerate the grand scheme."
"Your will be done!!"
No surprise. No hesitation.
None dared ask why.
For whatever their master decreed, there was always a reason—wise and absolute.
'Slaughter them all!'
'Blood—only blood remains!'
The mere thought of spilling blood sooner filled them with boundless joy.
"Master, speak your command."
"Say the word, and we shall annihilate them all."
All knelt, foreheads pressed to the ground, awaiting his decree.
Amidst their prostration, the Blood Demon gazed beyond the crimson mist with eyes like abyssal voids.
"White Yaksha."
"Yes!"
"Go to Kaifeng."
"Your command!"
"!!"
The Lord of Ten Thousand Demons had spoken—the starting point of their grand scheme.
All were stunned.
How could they not be?
Kaifeng, located in Henan Province, was none other than—
The headquarters of the Orthodox Martial Alliance.
The domain of the Four Sichuan Overlords.