Chapter 64: The Blood Flame Cult (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 64: The Blood Flame Cult (3)
The Blood Flame Cult was exactly what the Imperial Family had declared it to be: a heretical cult. Its members were utterly unpredictable in both word and deed.
Given the cult’s massive influence, one would expect their teachings to have leaked out, yet not even the Imperial Family had managed to fully unravel their doctrines over the many years.
Jeong Yeon-shin asked quietly, “You called for me?”
“Yes, Grand Preceptor,” the Blood Master Sword replied, kneeling and prostrating himself.
“······.”
The Jeong Family Manor was the preeminent power in Xinye County, Henan. To ensure their authority never appeared ridiculous, they had to possess a certain refinement. Even an abandoned child like him could not neglect his studies. As such, Jeong Yeon-shin had learned at least the basics of the Book of Changes from the Four Books and Three Classics.
It was said that all things under heaven follow a clear chain of cause and effect. The events of the Jianghu were no different. If one traced back an incomprehensible result, there was always an equally incomprehensible cause.
The Blood Flame Cult was a gathering of incomprehensible madmen. So too was the talent behind the Flash Art of the Demonlight Wing. He had created a martial art that directly countered the Blood Flame Cult, a feat no one had achieved since Zen Master Bodhidharma. He had even founded a Sword House that caused widespread slaughter through Sword Rings—an unprecedented creation.
These achievements far exceeded his current level of martial arts.
Therefore, his abduction was only natural. Cheong-myeong and Baek Mi-ryeo had told him before: if other sects ever learned of his talent, they would have no choice but to either win him over or kill him.
The Blood Flame Cult had simply chosen the former.
“I have spread the word throughout the main headquarters,” the Seventh Apostle said, her lips curling upward. Her smile held no beauty, perhaps because of the skin-crawling madness radiating from her.
Her single red eye swept down Jeong Yeon-shin’s figure. She whispered slowly, “Your bizarrely rapid progress, your peerless creative genius, and your unhesitating nature when slaying enemies… What would happen if we implanted the Blood Art into your body? Our cult might witness the birth of a Young Cult Leader for the first time in over a hundred and twenty years.”
The Blood Art was said to be a martial art bordering on sorcery. He had heard that the moment one learned it, the very nature of the fine meridians throughout the body—from the Baihui Point to the brain—would be warped, creating a state of mind highly receptive to the doctrines of the Blood Flame Cult.
A martial arts religion of madmen.
Because their methods were designed with brainwashing in mind, they repeatedly defied common sense. They didn’t hesitate to elevate a mortal enemy of their cult to the position of Grand Preceptor. It was a move that could not be understood through normal logic—exactly what one would expect of a heretical cult.
Jeong Yeon-shin replied calmly, “Talk of a Young Cult Leader is ridiculous. I have severed the heads of countless of your cultists.”
“The children who shed their blood for our doctrine simply cast off their mortal shells to enter the Peach Blossom Spring. Our retaliation isn't mere revenge. It is a ritual—burning joss paper with their blood to wish them boundless bliss in the Peach Blossom Spring.”
“History shows that immortal rulers never welcome a successor.”
“That is a groundless worry. Only He shall sit upon the throne of the Cult Leader for eternity.” The Seventh Apostle’s single eye crinkled into a smile. “A Young Cult Leader is exactly what the name implies. As our Grand Preceptor, please become my little cult leader.”
“Grand Preceptor!”
“Please make the Blood Art whole!”
Before he knew it, a crowd had gathered. The Blood Master Sword’s public display of respect had drawn them here. A ring of red-haired people now surrounded them—a bizarre sight.
Pleased by this development, the Seventh Apostle infused her voice with True Qi. “I spoke of your talent. Our cult has an ancient doctrine, the third verse of the Flame Flower Chapter.”
“Endure with unyielding strength!” the Cult Sword who had first addressed Jeong Yeon-shin as Grand Preceptor shouted, his expression solemn. When the Seventh Apostle gave a slight nod, he bowed his head in deep reverence.
The Seventh Apostle stared intently into Jeong Yeon-shin’s eyes. “It is a passage about red hair. It is the Heavenly Punishment one must bear upon mastering the Blood Art in the Central Plains. All kinds of rabble try to hunt down and kill our cultists the moment they see it.”
“And do you not slaughter the common folk on a whim?” Jeong Yeon-shin spoke his mind, even while surrounded by over a hundred Blood Flame cultists. He wanted to gauge their reaction to decide his next move, yet not a single one of them reacted. Even the Seventh Apostle remained silent.
Jeong Yeon-shin felt as though he had been dropped into an entirely different world.
The Seventh Apostle continued, her eyes narrowing into a smile. “Originally, it was a glorious mark. It was turned into a Heavenly Punishment by two groups: the Righteous Faction, who praise themselves as upright, and the Imperial Family, who brand us a heretical cult.”
“······.”
“You will help us overcome it. You can alter the Qi Accumulation Mnemonic of the Blood Art to make our internal power easier to control. That is the very talent that created a Dharma Power martial art. You can turn the red hair of these children black.”
She was asking him to make it impossible to distinguish Blood Flame cultists by their appearance. She was telling him to unleash a disaster upon the world.
The moment she finished speaking, several cultists leaped to their feet.
“Endure with unyielding strength!”
“Please make the divine Blood Art whole!”
“Grand Preceptor! Ahhh! Grand Preceptor!”
Madmen, Jeong Yeon-shin muttered inwardly. They called the Blood Art divine while demanding he improve its mnemonic. They claimed they had to endure their fate, yet asked him to change their hair color. It was utterly contradictory.
He had expected a heretical cult to be conservative, but it was not. Their nature was closer to chaos. They were satisfied as long as something benefited them. They revered him as their Grand Preceptor for the sole purpose of running rampant in the Central Plains.
Their intentions were transparent, yet the gazes they directed at him were already filled with the adoration they held for the Flash Art of the Desolate Fortress.
Amidst the frenzy, the Seventh Apostle laughed. “My young Grand Preceptor. You shall pave the future of our cult.”
Jeong Yeon-shin did not answer. He merely stood in silence, his eyes cast down, lost in thought.
Only after the commotion subsided did the crowd finally disperse. Then, the Seventh Apostle reached out again. He felt the ripples of True Qi gathering at her long fingers. The density of her energy was immense; she had seemingly reached a realm where circulating internal energy placed no burden on her mind.
She gently grasped his sleeve, as if ensuring he could never escape.
The Seventh Apostle parted her lips. “Let us go, my Young Cult Leader. Our Grand Preceptor.”
Jeong Yeon-shin followed without a word.
At the main headquarters of the Blood Flame Cult, a sudden gust of wind brushing against his cheek felt strangely pleasant. Perhaps it was because he had long accepted his short lifespan, or perhaps his innate disposition was simply exceptionally resilient.
The Blood Flame Cult was an entirely different world. His thoughts naturally drifted forward.
‘Could their Qi accumulation martial arts also be unique?’
It was said to possess the power of regeneration.
Perhaps… just perhaps. Could he change his fate through martial arts rather than the fruit of the World Tree?
The young Grand Preceptor walked on in silence.
After passing through several pavilion complexes with the Seventh Apostle, a grand hall resembling a palace appeared. Engraving every detail of the enemy territory into his memory, Jeong Yeon-shin counted the steps of the wide staircase in a single glance.
Thirty-six. A number heavy with meaning.
‘The thirty-six Heavenly Spirits of Taoist malevolent stars. The thirty-six defilements of Buddhism.’
Sects rooted in religion often featured symbolic structures within their grounds. More than a few times, these structures served as clues to deciphering their secret martial arts. He climbed the stairs, taking care not to let the Seventh Apostle notice his shifting gaze.
The moment he reached the top, the crimson-painted gates swung open on their own.
“Come closer.”
The voice was smooth.
A handsome, white-haired man sat alone on a high Grandmaster's Chair, gesturing to him. His pale face and elegantly defined nose gave him a noble appearance, almost like royalty, yet he lounged carelessly, resting one leg on the wide seat of the chair.
No distinct aura could be felt from him. This was the Blood Flame Cult Leader, one of the strongest martial artists under heaven.
‘Could it be…?’
Jeong Yeon-shin recalled the Lord of the Desolate Fortress, who had enjoyed the wind with a gentle smile just before his duel with Ma Se-in. He had only realized the precious sword was at her waist at the very last moment.
“The Cult Leader has spoken. Did you not hear him?” one of the figures lined up on either side of the Blood Flame Cult Leader spoke, his tone overbearing. He was a middle-aged man with pitch-black hair. Unlike the Cult Leader, he was shrouded in a powerful, oppressive aura, making it immediately obvious that he was another Apostle.
“Does an Apostle stand above the Grand Preceptor?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked, his tone unchanging. He referred to himself as the Grand Preceptor.
The Seventh Apostle beside him burst into laughter. The echo that bounced off the walls of the luxurious hall carried a chilling delight. Even in the presence of the Cult Leader, her laughter did not cease.
“Your question is reasonable. The Grand Preceptor and the Apostles are of equal rank,” she answered, her face bright.
“It is disgusting to see trash from the Desolate Fortress call himself our Grand Preceptor. His fate has not even been decided yet,” the middle-aged man said with a calm expression.
The Apostles behaved however they pleased in front of the Cult Leader. They were different from the ordinary cultists, including the Blood Master Sword. The atmosphere was unbelievably free-spirited.
The man slowly continued, “I have already obtained permission from the Cult Leader. If your rumored talent is true, you will have to undergo countless trials. Even if we bestow the Blood Art upon you, you will not be able to cleanse your mind and body with our cult's spirit so easily.”
“Third Apostle, listen well.” The expression vanished from the Seventh Apostle’s face. An aura so violent it seemed to make the air shudder erupted from her entire body. “Your child does not have the caliber of a Young Cult Leader. Do not be envious.”
“You speak of tedious matters,” said the Blood Flame Cult Leader. He made a leisurely gesture. At the same time, his long, white hair swayed slightly, moving as if it had a life of its own.
Whoosh.
A cool breeze blew. The heavy, suffocating energy that had filled the hall was swept away in an instant. The Seventh Apostle's characteristically sharp, sinister aura vanished without a trace. It was an incredibly profound technique, its principles impossible to fathom.
Jeong Yeon-shin suddenly felt a tight pull on his wrist. The Seventh Apostle’s grip on his sleeve had tightened.
“First,” the Third Apostle spoke slowly, now under the Cult Leader’s protection. “I must experience your martial arts for myself. Since rumors abound and the Seventh Apostle is so infatuated, it is only right that I see it before making a judgment. It is a basic requirement.”
“Your internal affairs are tedious. Let us get this over with.”
No one grew angry at Jeong Yeon-shin’s retort. The leaders of the Blood Flame Cult were as calm as a clear mirror and still water. No matter how twisted their path, each of them had attained a high level of cultivation. Setting aside their martial arts, they were terrifying simply as human beings.
“There is no need for long words. Come.” The Third Apostle extended an arm.
Wuuung!
The energy of the Blood Art surged from his palm. Faint red currents layered upon one another, beginning to form a circular barrier. It was not the force of Fa Jin. It was not a combination of martial techniques and True Qi, but a barrier manifested solely through internal energy.
‘The unity of offense and defense.’
Jeong Yeon-shin saw through his technique. An incredibly sharp energy swirled within—a storm conjured by True Qi. While likely weaker than a strike combining both hand and internal energy, it was still a miraculous feat.
“His mastery of True Qi circulation has reached a level worthy of discussion among the greatest under heaven.”
“Is that not a realm one would only expect to see from those black-clothed bastards of the Desolate Fortress?”
The onlookers did not hide their admiration.
Jeong Yeon-shin quietly stared at the internal energy barrier that had manifested across the distance. The Seventh Apostle whispered in his ear, “This is the test our cult's rising stars take to be promoted to Blood Master Swords. If they endure for a single breath, they are bestowed a spirit medicine.”
“What happens if I tear it apart?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked calmly.
Whoosh.
He took a step forward, channeling the Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand. A clear, resonant wave of energy spread from his right hand, which he raised to his chest. He didn’t drag it out. He formed a hand-blade and struck down at the barrier.
Fwoosh!
The moment the strike landed, a red gale swept out in all directions. A visible crimson current surged outward from Jeong Yeon-shin's hand. His hand-blade, embedded in the barrier, glowed with a cold, azure light as it completely unraveled the wall of internal energy built from such a profound realm.
It didn’t take even a split second to dissolve. As the red wind dispersed, a brief silence fell over the hall.
“...If this is truly a martial art you forged with your own hands,” the Third Apostle spoke, “you are indeed a dangerous bastard…”
He took a step back.
The sharp expression on his face did not match his retreat. Jeong Yeon-shin noticed immediately. Some sinister scheme was coiling within the Apostle’s heart.
Then, the Blood Flame Cult Leader parted his lips. “That internal power… that method of True Qi circulation.”
“······?”
“Indeed, there was no need to worry.”
The moment he began to speak, the atmosphere in the hall shifted. Even the Apostles bowed their heads, turning into devout followers listening to a sermon.
“Mastering a peerless martial art through mnemonics alone? If that were possible, great sects would have no reason to scrutinize talent when taking in disciples.”
“······.”
“Your water art is even more so. I can feel a unique interpretation of the Dharma Power of Crushing Evil and Revealing the Truth woven into it. Internal energy taking on a specific property is not solely due to the countless variations in Qi circulation pathways. Intent is what matters. That is why a master is necessary.”
The Blood Flame Cult Leader spoke with a smile, as if he were Jeong Yeon-shin’s own master.
‘He is right.’
Jeong Yeon-shin agreed inwardly. Back when he had taken the Seventh Apostle’s eye, she had told him that even a sliver of Dharma Power infused into a martial art makes it incredibly difficult to learn. She had said one must be born with once-in-a-millennium talent to even practice it.
If Buddhist martial arts were so easy to master, the Blood Flame Cult would have been destroyed long ago. She was right. No one had been able to learn it.
Jeong Yeon-shin was no fool. He had naturally written down the secret manual and handed it over to the Desolate Fortress’s treasury. The Demon-Quelling Azure Steel Hand was a rare, high-level martial art, and he had earned great merit for it. However, the last news he had heard dampened his achievement: even the Unit Commanders had failed to grasp its basics.
“You were the only problem,” the Blood Flame Cult Leader smiled faintly. “Yet here you are, having entered our cult.”
“······.”
“You have broken through the trial with outstanding skill. There must be a reward for the Grand Preceptor. Bring it forth.”
He clapped his hands once, and a figure stepped forward. Judging by the cautious footsteps, it was a servant. The servant held a tray covered in golden silk high above his head, upon which rested an antique box.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader made a small gesture. As the servant knelt and raised the tray, the Cult Leader opened the box and took out a dark-red elixir pill.
“What is that?” Jeong Yeon-shin asked calmly.
At that moment, a bizarre atmosphere bloomed from the Blood Flame Cult Leader’s body. It was not normal. The moment he slightly raised his beautiful chin, a charm as explosive as blooming True Qi radiated from him.
There were countless anecdotes about the master of the Blood Flame Cult. It was said that he would sink his teeth into his victims' necks to absorb their True Qi and blood, and that many died with smiles on their faces.
The Blood Flame Cult Leader curled his lips and said, “It is a poison that constricts the blood vessels. A secret of our cult.”
There was a demonic quality to his laugh, a smile that bewitched the senses.