Chapter 189
Chapter 189
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 189
Chapter Title: The Meaning of Life 1
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There were several reasons why the Blood Cult had chosen Mount Hua as the stage for their debut.
They had hidden in various places, stirring up minor incidents here and there, but they had never fully revealed themselves. As a result, few people had caught on to their existence. Even those who had couldn't realistically devote all their attention to keeping them in check unless the cult stirred up something major.
And for an organization lurking beneath the surface like that, the most efficient play was a single massive surprise operation.
The moment they made their full appearance, they would lose access to most of the benefits they'd quietly accumulated through covert activities. To make up for that sacrifice, they had to maximize their gains in one fell swoop. For the Blood Cult, the Mount Hua Sect was the perfect prey.
To those who desired the downfall of the Central Plains, the martial artists there were enemies they would eventually have to face.
If they could annihilate one of the major powers—the Nine Great Sects or Five Great Families—right from the start, it would give them a tremendous edge in the war to come.
Moreover, the island province where Mount Hua stood was the central hub where the forces of the righteous factions converged.
Succeeding in a terrorist attack in a place everyone believed to be safe would deliver a massive psychological blow to both civilians and martial artists alike.
The Blood Cult's morale would naturally soar as well.
Though their command center and greatest asset, Barshutain, had headed to the Sword Empress's secret abode—reducing their overall strength somewhat—the same held true for Mount Hua and the Murim Alliance. In the end, their relative power balance remained roughly even.
And now, with the assault on Mount Hua and the surrounding villages underway...
The tide of battle was flowing very much in the Blood Cult's favor.
When the combatants' strengths were evenly matched, the next most critical factor was information.
It wasn't for nothing that Sun Tzu's Art of War said, "If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles." The difference in intelligence could prove decisive in war.
The Blood Cult held a wealth of information from spies embedded in Mount Hua and from the sect's own warriors they had revived. Mount Hua, on the other hand, had virtually no intelligence on the Blood Cult as it stood now. The information gap overwhelmingly favored the cult.
Especially potent was magic—a mysterious power from another world that no martial artist had ever faced before. In a realm where victory and defeat often hinged on the slimmest margins, it unleashed devastating might.
"Grrr... you cowards and your sorcery..."
-Slash!
-Thud!
"This seems to be the last human in this building. Moving to the next one."
"Understood, Rigreta. How's Flora doing?"
"That one receiving far more of the Lord's grace than she deserves?"
The female vampire called Rigreta turned at the incoming report, glancing toward where Flora was.
"Speak. Where is the Sword Empress right now?"
"Heh heh... You think I'll tell you...?"
It looked like she was interrogating one of the fallen warriors.
"She seems just fine. Leisurely enough to waste time on pointless tasks."
"Is that right? Her local knowledge should still be useful for navigation, no? I heard she was from around here back when she was alive."
"Not in the slightest. The layout's changed since then—she's even more lost than I am. Apparently, even as a human, she never strayed far from her assigned area."
"Tch. Thought she'd be useful after all. Fine, then. Don't let her out of your sight by more than a set distance. The Lord ordered you to keep watch over her."
Rigreta had been tasked by Barshutain with monitoring Flora—and she was deeply resentful about it.
As a pureblood vampire created directly by Barshutain, she inherently looked down on the half-breeds revived from mere humans. And yet, one of those mongrels was basking in the Lord's favor?
Call it "monitoring" if you wanted, but it was no different from playing nursemaid.
To some greenhorn who'd never seen real combat, no less.
"...What if she gets hurt or killed in some 'unfortunate accident'? Say, an ambush from a hidden enemy?"
"No special instructions on that front. It's her own life to protect. We've already brought her back once—that should suffice, no?"
"Oh?"
That meant even the Lord wasn't all that attached to his little toy.
If push came to shove, she could abandon the girl without fear of severe reprisal.
"Spit it out already. I wasn't taught any torture techniques—I don't know how to make it hurt without killing."
"Ha, regretting your life now? And what's to stop you from killing me after I talk?"
"...Guess I'll start by lopping off an arm. If you want to keep your sword hand intact, you'd better talk fas—"
-Stab!
"Wasted enough time? We're not here to dawdle—move to the next spot."
Rigreta pierced the forehead of the warrior Flora had been interrogating, killing him instantly, then roughly hauled Flora to her feet.
She made no effort to hide the irritation in her eyes.
"Don't get the wrong idea, Flora. Our mission is to clear the assigned zone—not settle your personal grudges."
"..."
-Crunch.
Flora's grip tightened visibly on her sword hilt.
'Is she about to snap here?'
If so, Rigreta would welcome it.
The pureblood might have a sliver of the Lord's attention, but there was no way she'd lose to some half-breed wench.
And if Flora swung first, the justification would be on Rigreta's side.
With the right spin on events, she could even claim Flora—driven mad by her mortal obsessions—had spared the enemies only to turn her blade on her own allies in betrayal.
'Your move, half-breed.'
Rigreta heated her mana circuits, poised for a counterstrike, waiting for Flora to lose control.
But...
"..."
-Click.
-Swish!
Whether she'd reined in her emotions or not, Flora silently sheathed her sword and strode forward without a word.
'Pity.'
She could have dealt with one annoying nuisance if things had gone right.
Rigreta clicked her tongue and cooled her overheated mana circuits.
She'd hoped Flora would lash out here, but it didn't matter.
Given that hotheaded nature of hers, a little more prodding was all it would take. The moment she slipped up, Rigreta would be ready.
But Rigreta didn't know yet.
She was the one who'd just been spared a deadly fate.
And Flora hadn't lashed out—not out of fear, but to conserve even a scrap of strength for when she finally crossed paths with her hated foe.
-Tatat! Tat!
'Damn this smoke...!'
Even as he raced toward Murim Alliance headquarters, dodging enemies along the way, the fires were spreading relentlessly.
Given the era, most building materials were highly flammable, and there was no sign of the blaze letting up anytime soon.
Unless someone hauled water from the river to douse it—but who had time for that when vampires were prowling, slaughtering people left and right?
No matter how precious property was, survival came first.
-Squeeze.
He tore a strip from his clothing to fashion a crude mask over his nose and kept running.
The others would have quickly realized the safest spot in this chaos.
Lots of people would be gathered at Murim Alliance HQ by now—they'd be handling the fires somehow.
'If only it would rain...!'
The heavens and gods—who were stingy enough to smite folks for petty heavenly secrets—couldn't spare a single drop when it mattered.
He didn't think they enjoyed watching people die, so they must have their reasons...
-Beep! Beep! Beep!
'Why won't the shop window open...!'
He tried summoning the shop window to buy a rain-making magic tool or something useful for the escape, but it wouldn't appear.
Calling out to the Saintess inwardly yielded the same silence.
No response from the heavens or the Saintess—had something happened to them both?
Sensing things growing stranger by the minute, he pushed his legs harder.
-Drip. Drop...
"...?"
Raindrops pattered against his hand.
He looked up. Clouds had gathered haphazardly, starting to sprinkle.
'Just a passing shower, huh...?'
It wasn't a downpour strong enough to quench the inferno.
A weak drizzle at best, probably lasting five or ten minutes tops.
Still, better than nothing.
It would at least slow the fire's exponential spread if left unchecked.
Lowering his gaze from the clouds, he turned toward Dang Ayoung—only to find her halted, back pressed to an alley wall, face etched with grim concern.
"...What is...?"
[Shh.]
A telepathic message cut him off just as he started to ask.
Dang Ayoung's expression made it clear the situation was far from straightforward.
And then her voice echoed in his mind again.
[...There are enemies ahead, on our path.]
"..."
"...And I think they've noticed us too."
-Step. Step.
Footsteps approached from that direction, right on cue with her warning.
"...How strong?"
"...They're wrapped in sword aura."
"..."
It was hopeless.
Someone manifesting visible sword aura was at least transcendent realm—maybe higher.
Dang Ayoung's level was peak realm.
And with her presence already detected, her specialty of stealth assassinations was completely sealed off.
An overwhelming gap in power.
-Shing.
The sound of a sword scraping free from its sheath tightened around their throats like the grim herald of the reaper himself.