The Ghost Command King
“What in the world...”
“Consider this your final warning. If you dare infringe upon this mountain any further, you will not leave with your lives.”
Ten masters of the Peak Demonic realm from the Demon Blood Divine Cult had bypassed the front lines to strike at Mount Wudang. Yet all ten had been utterly annihilated by a single man.
It was because Ok-yeong himself had stepped forth—the eldest Daoist master of the 'Ok' generation, the only soul permitted to enter the Deep Sanctum of Mount Wudang, and a living legend who had attained the Profound Realm.
Though age had withered the grandmaster's frame, his fangs remained as sharp as ever. Having reached a realm where he could freely command the celestial energy permeating Mount Wudang, he had faced ten Peak Demonic masters without suffering so much as a scratch.
Part of it was their lack of depth, but mostly it was because Ok-yeong’s might bordered on the unfathomable. Nine lay dead, leaving only one cultist—a demon who had reached the pinnacle of the Peak Demonic realm—clinging by a thread to life.
Yet escape was out of the question. Both his legs had been severed, stripping him of all mobility, and the celestial qi invading his meridians was steadily purifying the demonic energy within his flesh.
The Five Bloods King had miscalculated. Unless the main force of the Cult arrived in full, Mount Wudang remained an impregnable fortress that could never be breached.
“Damn it... You cursed old monster.”
With that dying curse, the final Peak Demonic master drew his last breath. They had expected an undefended stronghold ripe for the taking, only to walk straight into their own doom. Even if their comrades triumphed back at the stronghold, losing so much elite strength dealt a catastrophic blow to their forces.
Meanwhile, the moment the last intruder collapsed, Ok-yeong coughed, spitting up blood flecked with black. His aged body shrieked in agony after overexerting itself for the first time in years.
Mount Wudang’s sacred spiritual aura held his failing form together, but anyone looking upon him could tell that his remaining days were few.
“If this is my destiny, then I shall accept it, Hyeok.”
Murmuring quietly, Ok-yeong turned back toward the Deep Sanctum of Mount Wudang. Having ascended to the realm of a divine mortal, the shattered equilibrium of his physique demanded constant celestial qi; staying outside the sanctuary for too long would only hasten the forced ascension that beckoned to him.
Though he had ventured down near the Wudang manor for the first time in ages, he could not even offer a greeting to the disciples before retreating. That cherished view, now relegated to memory, was one he could never draw close to again.
With melancholy eyes, Ok-yeong gazed across the compound one last time, then turned back toward the sanctuary's depths. Thus came the quiet end to an incident that had nearly reduced all of Mount Wudang to ash.
While the corpses were being cleared away, Ryeong searched the Five Bloods King’s quarters. She had hoped to find the Myriad Poison Ring, but no matter how thoroughly she tore the place apart, there wasn't the faintest trace of it.
As such a sacred relic would be of paramount importance, her best guess was that it had already been dispatched to the Cult's headquarters. The small consolation was that the hoard of wealth accumulated by the villains was substantial.
Since the bulk of the spoils would be distributed to the families of the deceased, Ryeong settled for quietly pocketing a single gold ingot.
Just as the cleanup was drawing to a close, intelligence arrived: ten Peak Demonic masters had been found dead upon Mount Wudang.
In its present state, Mount Wudang possessed no means to fend off ten Peak Demonic experts all at once—barring a single person.
‘Did Daoist Master Ok-yeong intervene?’
A divine mortal of the Profound Realm. If Ok-yeong had blocked their path, the outcome made complete sense. Yet because the rest of the world remained completely unaware of his existence, this incident only served to convince everyone that Mount Wudang harbored terrifying hidden might. In truth, that was an illusion; Ok-yeong would not be stepping in to protect the sect every time danger knocked.
‘Perhaps he only showed himself this time because of me.’
Ok-yeong had bestowed the Taiji Heavenly Tablet upon Ryeong. It was an entrustment of Wudang's future, and effectively signified that he had shed his own identity as a member of the sect.
In other words, Ok-yeong was now an unaffiliated recluse. Who could stop a grandmaster who had never formally washed his hands in a golden basin from acting as he pleased? Still, judging from the complete absence of rumors about him, it did not mean he had returned to the martial world. While she would need to hear the details from the man himself, the Deep Sanctum of Mount Wudang was a perilous place for her.
The issue lay in how excessively compatible it was with her Celestial Immortal Divine Art. Immortal Hyeok had warned her that relying too heavily on the art would inevitably trigger her ascension. If she wandered in heedlessly and ascended to immortality, that would be the end of her mortal existence.
She needed to grow strong enough to command the divine art properly before making a move. Most likely, reaching such mastery required stepping into the Profound Realm—meaning she still had a very long way to go.
“Hm?”
Right then, Ryeong sensed something peculiar emanating from the throne once occupied by the Five Bloods King. Several spirits, previously invisible, had suddenly manifested.
Stranger still, they began talking among themselves.
“[Just how much longer do we have to keep doing this?]”
“[Until those damned bastards die, we have to obey.]”
“[Damn it all! I didn’t sacrifice myself just for this!]”
It was an extraordinary sight. They were fully aware of being ghosts, yet chatted casually despite a living human standing right beside them.
Intrigued, Ryeong spoke up.
“Excuse me. Mind telling me what you’re talking about?”
At her question, all three ghosts snapped their heads toward her in unison, their expressions rife with disbelief.
“[Is she... talking to us?]”
“[No way. No one without ghostly qi can perceive us.]”
“[Just ignore her. Probably some crazy wench talking to the air.]”
“Want me to show you what real crazy looks like?”
The ghosts, who had been chattering among themselves, froze stiff. Her response made them realize she could indeed see and hear every word.
“[W-What?! How can you actually see us?!]”
“I just can. What of it?”
“[Until now, the only mortals who could perceive us were masters of occult arts!]”
“[You don't have an ounce of ghostly qi, nor any occult energy around you!]”
The spirits buzzed about, swarming around Ryeong. Not finding it particularly unpleasant, she watched them bicker. They looked like middle-aged men, yet spoke in a shrill manner reminiscent of squabbling children.
“Setting aside how I can see you, could you tell me what you're doing here?”
“[Uh, well, the thing is...]”
“[Wait! We can’t just give it away so easily. We have demands first, so listen—]”
“Right. I’m leaving.”
“[H-H-Hold on! Wait, waaaait!!]”
The moment Ryeong turned on her heel to brush them off, the spirit who had started rambling about demands cried out in utter panic. The sheer desperation in his spectral eyes made it difficult to just walk away.
‘Damn it. Living with those bloody Daoists rubbed off on me.’
After spending a year among the Taoists of Wudang, her temperament had softened considerably—even if her ruthlessness remained untamed when it truly counted.
Besides, this was practically the first time in her life she had seen ghosts carry on an actual conversation. The specters she had encountered at the Murim Alliance Investigation headquarters during the Southern Edge raid couldn't utter a word.
Considering the Demon Blood Divine Cult dabbled in all manner of sinister, heterodox sorcery, there was bound to be a connection to these spirits.
“Feeling ready to talk now?”
“[Just calm down for a second, friend! It's not like I'm a free agent here. Think about it calmly—]”
“I’m in a hurry, so goodbye.”
“[The Ghost Command King! The Ghost Command King is commanding us!]”
Unable to bear it, one of the three spirits blurted out the name: the Ghost Command King. The instant the words left his lips, spectral flames ignited across his body, and the other two spirits clutched their heads in horror.
“[You crazy lunatic! Why did you say that now?!]”
“[We finally had a chance! Why would you throw it away?!]”
“[I'm sorry. Someone had to say it so she could find a lead...]”
The spirit who had spoken the name was disintegrating into nothingness. Though Ryeong kept her face impassive, her curiosity was piqued.
It seemed her next adversary would be this fellow called the Ghost Command King. As he dissolved, the dying spirit fixed Ryeong with an intense, burning gaze.
“[Kill him... and the spirits under his command will lend you their strength.]”
“I never asked you to die like this.”
“[It was my choice. A ghost's power is woven of a different cloth than human strength. Our might will become a new wellspring of power for you.]”
By now, the spectral fire consumed most of his body. With his final breath, a faint smile touched his lips.
“[Look after my companions. It’s not a bad deal for you either... Give it some thought.]”
With those parting words, the spirit vanished into smoke. Ryeong crossed her arms, affecting an air of nonchalance, though she had already resolved to aid them.
Their mere presence at the Five Bloods King’s stronghold was proof enough that the Ghost Command King was tied to the Demon Blood Divine Cult. If she was destined to clash with him eventually, cooperating with the spirits to glean internal intelligence was the wiser path.
Distraught over the destruction of their companion, the remaining two ghosts clutched their heads, plunged into agonizing thought. Ryeong held her tongue, waiting for their decision.
Before long, they made up their minds.
“[Looks like we have to go ahead as well.]”
“[There are countless friends trapped alongside us. If our end can grant them peace, what is our sacrifice worth grieving over?]”
“What?”
Fwoosh!
Flames erupted across the two spirits' forms—a sure sign that they were about to speak a forbidden truth.
Each uttered a single phrase before dissipating:
“[Hebei.]”
“[The Third Demon Corps.]”
The Third Demon Corps of Hebei.
Evidently, the Ghost Command King was an executive of the Demon Blood Divine Cult—stationed in Hebei as commander of the Third Demon Corps.