Chapter 235
Chapter 235
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 235
>Chapter Title: Degeneration (2)
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The Red Flower Tower Mistress had to struggle just to keep her expression in check.
She couldn't very well ask if that was even possible.
Burned into her mind like a brand was the image of that incarnation of Maitreya she'd witnessed that day.
The thick, viscous killing intent he'd exuded.
No matter that the man before her was an elder of the Hao Clan, she couldn't confidently predict his victory.
Unable to state the facts outright, she tried to phrase it indirectly.
“Those people wiped out the Nancheon Society that had controlled this entire Nanju in a single night. Even with you and your disciples here, Elder Yang, wouldn't the losses be tremendous?”
“Hahaha. Do I really need to get blood on my own hands?”
“???”
As the Red Flower Tower Mistress made a puzzled face, Yang Jong added more.
“Did you think I'd just been idling here all this time? I sent my disciples to gather information. And in return, I heard some intriguing rumors.”
“Intriguing rumors, you say?”
“Indeed. Near Grotto Mountain in Pyeongnyang County. It seems the Maitreya Divine Cult has been stirring up all sorts of trouble there lately.”
Only then did she roughly understand why the Maitreya Divine Cult members had slipped out of Nanju. Why they'd taken the courtesans from the red-light district.
“You mean to strike the Maitreya Divine Cult while they're away?”
“Foolish girl. I said we wouldn't dirty our own hands. They're spreading their bizarre doctrines and causing havoc on the Emperor's own soil. What do you think will happen when word reaches the Provincial Censor's Office here in Nanju?”
“Ah!”
As realization dawned on the Red Flower Tower Mistress, Yang Jong smiled again and continued.
“There must be officials who frequent our Hao Clan brothels and pleasure houses from time to time. A subtle word to them, and the news will quickly reach their superiors, won't it?”
“But aren't those officials just vultures looking to squeeze us for money anyway?”
“Tsk tsk. If the officials try to extort even more from us, do you think the Maitreya Divine Cult can keep lavishing gifts on the courtesans like they are now?”
“Ah...”
A soft exclamation escaped the Red Flower Tower Mistress's lips, soon followed by a smile.
“Heh heh heh. What a brilliant scheme, Elder.”
“Hahaha. So you've finally caught on.”
The two shared a laugh for a moment, gazing at each other.
Creeeak.
The window slid open as if caught by the night breeze, casting a long shadow over their heads.
Silence descended in an instant, and the Red Flower Tower Mistress and Yang Jong turned their heads like wooden puppets toward the window.
There stood a man silhouetted against the moon. A man wearing an angry Four Heavenly Kings mask.
“You were having quite the interesting conversation.”
At that familiar voice, goosebumps erupted across the Red Flower Tower Mistress's entire body.
Yang Jong, meanwhile, stared at the masked man with a tense expression.
Gulp.
‘A master of considerable skill.’
His level was impossible to gauge. It meant even staking his life on a fight, victory wasn't assured.
Unlike Yang Jong's taut tension, the man backed by moonlight regarded the Red Flower Tower Mistress with an air of leisure.
“I distinctly promised to let you live if you stayed quiet.”
Frozen stiff, the Red Flower Tower Mistress couldn't bring herself to speak under the gaze peering from behind the mask.
So Yang Jong spoke up instead.
“Isn't all this because you lot lack any sense of propriety? Stay quiet and we won't touch you? Is this what staying quiet looks like? All the courtesans from our brothels are trying to flock to your side! You're ruining our business and telling us to just sit still? Do you think that makes any sense?”
Yang Jong fired off his words with the speed of a swift sword technique.
He felt an odd sensation himself.
He wasn't the type to spit out words so hastily by nature.
At Yang Jong's accusation, the masked man tilted his head as if the words made no sense.
“Then the Hao Clan should just show the same generosity to the courtesans, no? Teach them to read, forgive the debts of those sold into service against their will. Simple as that.”
“If we forgave all those debts, our brothels would have to shut their doors.”
“So you lock them up, beat them, hang them instead? Force drugs on those who resist to the end?”
“Those women belong to the Hao Clan. Does the Maitreya Divine Cult have any right to interfere in our affairs?”
At Yang Jong's retort, the masked man—Il-mok—nodded as if finally understanding.
“The Hao Clan has degenerated. Unlike the Beggars' Sect.”
“!!!”
Stunned by Il-mok's words, Yang Jong and the Red Flower Tower Mistress opened their mouths to protest, but no words came.
The masked man had already drawn his sword.
Shing.
“Thank you. Now I can clean house in the Hao Clan without any lingering regrets.”
The blade radiated a bone-chilling sharpness.
Pat.
With light footsteps, Il-mok descended from the window.
Swoosh!
In a surprise attack, Yang Jong whipped hidden weapons from his sleeve toward Il-mok.
Clang!
Il-mok twisted his body to dodge some, deflected others with his Ascending Heaven Sword, and charged at Yang Jong.
Pat!
The confined space made footwork key; one step of lightness skill closed the distance instantly.
But Yang Jong was no slouch in lightness skill either, leaping away nimbly.
Mid-leap, he flung more hidden weapons as a bonus.
Swoosh!
A brief chase unfolded in the narrow room.
Deflecting projectiles, deploying lightness skill, swinging his sword to shoot sword qi and claim space—Il-mok soon caught up to Yang Jong.
As Il-mok swung his swift sword to bisect him, Yang Jong gripped a flying dagger in reverse and blocked the blade.
Kreeee!
Even as their sword qi clashed, a scream-like screech erupted from Yang Jong's dagger.
They pushed against each other, sword to dagger, testing strength for a brief moment.
Il-mok didn't miss Yang Jong's cheeks hollowing.
Spit!
He twisted away swiftly, just as a barb-like projectile shot from Yang Jong's mouth, grazing where his head had been.
‘Experience from the Demonic Path Academy comes in handy for this sort of thing.’
He'd sparred with Baek Cheon, who favored hidden weapons, and endured all sorts of traps under the guise of “real-combat simulations,” so Il-mok stayed calm.
Having easily countered Yang Jong's dirty trick, Il-mok swung his Ascending Heaven Sword again, pressing the attack.
‘Damn it!’
Yang Jong felt his blood run cold.
Each clash with the enemy's mysterious famed sword chipped his dagger's edge, shrieking as if about to shatter.
Yet this wasn't some greenhorn flailing on raw power.
The impassive swings showed no hesitation or pause, flowing seamlessly like a single connected form, relentless in barrage.
Pat!
Leaping, rolling on the floor, hurling hidden weapons, swinging his dagger—somehow holding on.
Clang!
But he remained utterly on the defensive.
‘These bastards! What are you waiting for down there?!’
Yang Jong thought of his disciples waiting below, but the situation wasn't optimistic.
Not just because of the enemy hounding him.
Clang.
From beyond the door, faint metallic sounds and screams echoed faintly.
Too late, Yang Jong realized: this incarnation of Maitreya hadn't come alone.
Thud.
He'd tried to avoid this, but soon found himself backed against the wall.
As Il-mok swung to finish him...
Pat!
The Red Flower Tower Mistress, who'd been biding her time watching the fight, hurled hidden weapons in a sneak attack.
Clang!
Il-mok casually swept them aside with his Ascending Heaven Sword.
Realizing this was his last chance, Yang Jong unleashed his life-saving ultimate technique.
Whiiiing.
Vast energy converged, making his dagger wail as murky gray qi layered into sword force.
Thrusting the forming sword force at the masked man's heart...
Yang Jong, more con artist than warrior his whole life, felt an emotion he hadn't in ages.
The gap in talent. Or that thing called a wall.
Having deflected the Red Flower Tower Mistress's attack, the masked man spun with fluid grace like a sword dance, swinging his blade.
The sword path he traced met Yang Jong's thrust precisely.
As if he'd foreseen it.
As if executing a form linked from the start in one motion.
And on his sword, sword force gleamed like his own—brilliant starlight, unlike Yang Jong's murky hue.
Slash!!
The already notched dagger shattered instantly.
Slash!
Il-mok's Ascending Heaven Sword cleaved Yang Jong's upper body diagonally without resistance.
With the Hao Clan elder he'd trusted dying so pathetically, the Red Flower Tower Mistress stared at the masked man's back in terror.
But for some reason, he stood still, head bowed, gazing at his own sword.
She couldn't see from behind, but...
‘You crazy demon sword bastard?’
Il-mok barely swallowed a curse, face frozen in shock.
The moment his Ascending Heaven Sword sliced the foe's torso, it absorbed the blood.
Gurgle gurgle.
Unknown energy flowed up the gripping hilt into his body.
Shock brief, Il-mok quickly surmised the situation.
He knew the sword's purpose from the start.
Slashing someone let it suck in their blood qi, no doubt.
Recovering internal energy mid-battle was cheat-level.
‘I'm already on the verge of madness from demonic arts alone—absorb this filthy qi and I'll go insane for sure?’
Il-mok had zero desire to take in such energy. Unless in a dire, life-or-death pinch.
Pondering solutions briefly.
Tadad!
The terrified Red Flower Tower Mistress, seizing the moment, bolted with lightness skill.
Sensing it, Il-mok redirected the paused energy from his wrist back into the Ascending Heaven Sword and swung into empty air.
Swoosh!
The faintly red sword qi sliced through, carving her back.
“Hmm?”
Il-mok nodded in understanding.
‘So it only absorbs on direct blood contact.’
No blood qi flowed into the sword this time.
‘Blood splatter's nasty anyway, so fight keeping it off the blade. If it gets on, convert to sword qi for use.’
No matter how he thought, mixing absorbed blood qi into his internal energy was too risky, Il-mok concluded.
Sword force was another story. Sword qi could be used without blending, not bad at all.
Sorting his thoughts, Il-mok stepped forward to the fallen Red Flower Tower Mistress.
“P-Please... spare...”
She begged, but Il-mok impassively swung his Ascending Heaven Sword.
Careful not to let blood touch it.