Chapter 257
Chapter 257
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 257
>Chapter Title: Archenemy (4)
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The Third Elder realized that the grand ritual had completely fizzled out into nothing.
Even though he'd already poured about half the required energy into the corpse, it was all for naught since the ritual hadn't been completed.
The flesh itself was somewhat finished, but he hadn't implanted the rationality to wield power, nor had he inscribed the soul brand to make it obey commands.
There was no point in jamming the remaining energy into it anyway, as it wouldn't complete the ritual. So the Third Elder chose a different path.
Woooooong.
Gathering the blood energy that hadn't yet been stolen by those bastards, the Third Elder began casting a spell, as if he no longer cared about what came after.
A spell even more powerful than before whipped up, forcing the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master to dart around like a colt with its tail on fire, too busy fleeing.
Unlike Il-mok, he couldn't absorb blood energy to wield qi endlessly.
On the other hand, Il-mok was holding his ground by sucking in blood energy through his Victory Sword.
'I'll deal with that one first.'
Realizing it wouldn't be easy to take out the one absorbing blood energy and enduring, the Third Elder decided to finish off the other one first.
And the moment the Third Elder's spell focused a bit more on the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master.
Il-mok jammed his Victory Sword into the path, sucking in blood energy to the max.
Flash!
He unleashed his lightness skill to the extreme, lunging at the Third Elder in a surprise attack.
The massive blood energy flowing into his body through the Victory Sword raced through Il-mok's meridians.
Was it because it wasn't originally his energy? Or because it had flowed through someone else's blood?
As the blood energy surged, a strange pain rippled through his meridians.
Boom!!
Ignoring the pain, Il-mok pushed his lightness skill to the limit and closed in on the Third Elder in an instant.
Whiiiiiing!
A thick blood energy barrier blocked the Third Elder's front without fail.
"Hraaah!!"
Drawing on his past experience shattering Ghost Valley's blood energy barrier, Il-mok unleashed a blast of qi infused with the mysteries of the strong.
Boom!!!
His blood-red rippling qi clashed against the blood energy barrier with a thunderous roar, shattering it to pieces.
Unfazed, the Third Elder formed hand seals like he had with the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master, summoning the sorcery of wind.
A ferocious gale surpassing a typhoon roared toward Il-mok.
As Il-mok's body was pushed back by the wind, the mask on his face was caught and torn away.
The Third Elder's eyes widened upon seeing Il-mok's revealed face.
Not because it was familiar.
Nor because the face was ridiculously young for his level of mastery.
"How... another person's soul..."
Was it because he was an elder of the Blood Cult, who dealt in blood and evil spirits? The moment he faced Il-mok up close, he sensed something alien.
But the Third Elder's words couldn't continue.
"Cough..."
By then, a long gash had appeared on his side.
Having seen the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master get repelled by the Third Elder's technique earlier, Il-mok had fired off an invisible sword qi using the Shadowless Soul-Cleaving Sword the instant he shattered the blood energy barrier.
Thanks to that, he was casually blown back by the Third Elder's sorcery, but he'd already achieved his goal.
As blood and organs threatened to spill from the sharply severed gash on his side, the Third Elder hurriedly clutched it with his left hand.
At the same time, he drew a talisman from his sleeve with his right, and like a final desperate act, massive blood energy surged into it.
The moment Il-mok, flung backward, and the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master, still busy dodging, tensed up to counter the Third Elder's last stand.
Flash!
The Third Elder suddenly twisted his body and hurled the talisman behind him.
"!?"
Il-mok and the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master were bewildered by the unexpected turn.
Boom!!!
With a massive explosion, the altar's center erupted, and a human silhouette shot into the air.
One with a talisman plastered on its forehead.
"A jiangshi?"
A ferocious aura poured from the corpse that had practically demolished the altar in revealing itself. It surpassed the old man killed by the Pursuer and Flying Dragon Pavilion Master in sheer horror.
'Damn. Talk about adding insult to injury.'
Il-mok swallowed a curse inwardly, bracing for the fight ahead.
Boom!!!
Another thunderclap-like explosion rang out, and the forehead-talisman jiangshi launched itself at tremendous speed.
Toward an empty spot.
"!?"
As Il-mok and the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master panicked at the successive surprises.
Boom!
Boom!
Consecutive explosions boomed as the jiangshi-like corpse fled with terrifying momentum.
Straight in a single line toward some unknown destination.
Boom!
Crushing rocks or massive trees in its path indiscriminately.
Il-mok briefly considered chasing the jiangshi but quickly gave up.
Its speed was absurdly fast; it was already too late to catch up.
Right then.
From the wreckage of the exploded altar, a feeble sneer echoed.
"Kekekeke..."
It was the Third Elder.
With all color drained from his face, he chuckled and muttered.
"This body has failed, but you bastards won't escape unscathed either. That thing will become the grim reaper and drag you all to hell..."
Slash!
But before the Third Elder's curse could finish, Il-mok's sword qi severed his neck.
"Who told you to spout such nonsense."
Having neatly dispatched the Third Elder, Il-mok turned to look at the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master.
"You've worked hard."
Il-mok approached him with clasped hands in salute.
The Flying Dragon Pavilion Master kept a outwardly impassive face, but his mind was a whirlwind of complexity.
'Just what the hell is the Maitreya Cult?'
At first, when he'd heard about this Maitreya Cult group from the Beggar Clan pursuer, he hadn't thought much of it.
From the Martial Alliance's perspective, which had to govern the entire Central Plains, there was no time to worry about some mid-tier sect rampaging in the boonies of Gansu Province.
But today, his view had flipped.
It wasn't just because of that man's skill.
'A sword that absorbs blood energy.'
Having fought alongside the man, he'd noticed it now.
That guy's sword wasn't infused with Buddhist qi.
It was closer to a demon sword or ghost sword.
And that wasn't all. Whether because of the sword or the absorbed blood energy.
A faint ominous aura emanated from the martial arts he displayed.
Moreover, what about that revealed face.
It was far too youthful for the absurd level of mastery he'd shown.
At best, around twenty or so in appearance.
'Twenties with that kind of realm. And that ominous aura I've felt intermittently. No way!?'
The Flying Dragon Pavilion Master knew one genius of absurd talent at that age.
Before the Blood Cult emerged, the figure he'd watched most closely.
The Heavenly Demon's youngest disciple.
'The appearance sketch was wrong!!'
Naturally, fury boiled toward his subordinates who'd gathered info on the Eight Young Masters of the Demonic Cult.
He'd sent only his most trusted ones, yet they'd botched it this badly.
The facial contours, nose, mouth had slight differences that could pass.
But the eyes were too different. Way too different.
How could those eyes be described as brimming with sharp intellect and heroic spirit?
'Tch. The fanatics fooled them. Fanatics would naturally exaggerate the looks to praise their genius. And I didn't even account for that.'
Jeong Yeong resolved to punish his subordinates severely, but his anger didn't subside.
'That idiot pursuer. Blind to Demonic Cult bastards right under his nose!'
The biggest reason he hadn't suspected the Maitreya Cult? The pursuer had nailed it as righteous sect.
Beggar Clan and subordinates alike—useless idiots, Jeong Yeong concluded.
But even after realizing the Maitreya Cult's true nature, one problem remained.
Should he kill this guy now or pretend not to know?
And Jeong Yeong's decision was the latter.
'First, return to the Martial Alliance. Expose the Blood Cult's blood calamity here and the Maitreya Cult's true identity.'
If the Demonic Cult and Blood Cult stirred at once, the Central Plains would have no choice but to unite.
Under the banner of the Martial Alliance.
Finishing his quick calculations, Jeong Yeong clasped hands back at Il-mok, feigning ignorance.
"You've worked hard too."
The moment their hands overlapped.
Swooooooosh!
The sword of the Demonic Cult's Eighth Young Master flew toward his neck.
* * *
Il-mok's ambush on the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master wasn't a spur-of-the-moment choice.
Far from it—he'd been planning it since confirming the Pursuer had passed out.
He was an enemy who needed killing anyway, and having shown the blood energy absorption via Victory Sword, he couldn't just let him go.
Now that his face was exposed too, there was absolutely no sending him off alive.
Approaching with clasped hands was to lower his guard for the strike.
But what the hell.
Whoosh!
As if he'd anticipated it, the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master twisted away without a hint of panic.
He even parried Il-mok's follow-up strike with a sword drawn in an instant and stepped back.
Having endured the ambush, the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master spat out something ridiculous.
"As expected of a Demonic Cult lackey—such卑鄙 methods!"
"???"
How the hell did this bastard figure it out?
Feigning ignorance, Il-mok swung his sword and asked.
"What nonsense is that?"
"Hmph. Even if you fooled the fanatics with a fake appearance sketch, did you think I wouldn't recognize you?"
"Fake appearance sketch?"
In the midst of exchanging blows with the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master.
Il-mok was about to draw a vein on his forehead from the nonsense when something clicked.
That insanely handsome appearance sketch the pursuer had shown him back then—the one the Martial Alliance was chasing as a lecher.
'These fuckers?'
Only then did Il-mok realize the face on that sketch was his own, crumpling his expression.
'I haven't even had a single romance here, and they call me a lecher!?'
One more reason to kill the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master.
As Il-mok's face twisted, the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master misunderstood and sneered.
"Hah. I don't know how you fooled that moronic Beggar Clan pursuer, but you can't fool my eyes!"
Il-mok's eyes widened as the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master's sword forced him back a step amid his shout.
He'd realized something crucial too late.
If this guy returned to the Martial Alliance and exposed him as the Demonic Cult's Eighth Young Master, there'd be questions with the Beggar Clan.
In that process, the words Il-mok had spat to escape crisis would spread.
The fact that he'd uttered 'Heavenly Demon's dog.'
If that spread wide and reached the Demonic Cult headquarters in Shinjiang?
'...I'll die by Master's hand, or the fanatics will kill me.'
To prevent that, this bastard had to die no matter what.
With his thoughts reaching that point, Il-mok's face quickly calmed.
"Even for Elder Tae-hyeon's vengeance, I won't let you leave here alive."
As Il-mok aimed his sword and declared it, Jeong Yeong furrowed his brow.
"Elder Tae-hyeon?"
At his clueless attitude, Il-mok asked again.
"Three and a half years ago. The innkeeper your lot innocently slaughtered to catch my master. Ring any bells?"
Only then recalling the event from three and a half years ago, the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master spoke.
"A necessary sacrifice for the greater good. A sacrifice for the peace of the jianghu—he'd be rejoicing in the afterlife."
As Il-mok grimaced at the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master's sophistry, he added with a sly grin.
"Come to think of it, there was a waiter boy there too. So you're that waiter boy. Tch. Begging pathetically for your life and joining the Demonic Cult—Tae-hyeon in the afterlife must be weeping."
At the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master's provocation, Il-mok's expression turned ice-cold.
"Fine. Let's see if, when you die, you accept it as a necessary sacrifice for the greater good too."