Chapter 73
Having finished their conversation with the Unorthodox Alliance, Tian Ailang and Maeng Geon chatted idly as they returned to the Beast Tribe's formation.
"I'm not sure if this settles things with the unorthodox folks here. Maybe I should have just killed them."
Maeng Geon laughed at Tian Ailang's words.
"Kahaha! What can they do about it? If things go south, we solve it with force."
Tian Ailang smirked at Maeng Geon's wild words.
"You're right. If any problems crop up, let me know. I'll come help sort it out if I can."
"Kehhehe. That's the most reliable backup there is."
"And if you need to use your head, go see the Hao Clan Lord. He seems pretty interested in Yunnan too, so teaming up should make things easier."
"Will do."
Tian Ailang arrived at the Beast Tribe formation and immediately set off for Sichuan with Dang Jeong-a. The Tang Clan's Twelve, who had been reporting steadily, had gone silent, so the Tang Clan Lord might have noticed something suspicious. The longer they delayed, the more time the lord would have to prepare, making it harder to take him down.
What they needed now was a swift strike. Tian Ailang glanced at the Beast Tribe seeing him off and quickened his pace. To reach Sichuan through the rugged mountains, they had to move fast.
* * *
In the Blood Demon Hall—the residence of the Blood Cult's leader, the Blood Demon, and the site of their grand assemblies—the Blood Demon knelt, vomiting blood. A long sword wound slashed across his chest, black smoke rising from it like burning embers.
"Blood Brain, you son of a bitch!"
Blood trickled from the Blood Demon's mouth, garbling his words. Blood Brain met his gaze with a chilling smile.
"Blood Cult Leader, what more is there to say? You've never been fit to hold the heavens. I nearly died pretending all this time."
"Grraaah... How dare you... you Demonic Cult vermin!"
The Blood Demon's eyes turned black-red under the influence of his Blood Demon Heavenly Heart Art. With inner deviation kicking in, his energy surged even more violently.
Shwick!
But the Blood Demon's move never came. His head rolled across the floor before his body could react.
"No need to watch a fake throw a tantrum."
Chanho shook the blood from his black sword and sheathed it. An Asura's silhouette flickered behind him, then vanished. Blood Brain gazed at Chanho in awe at his otherworldly prowess. The Young Cult Leader he'd only heard rumors about exceeded expectations. From the Asura manifestation, it seemed he'd mastered the Heavenly Demon Divine Art to the pinnacle, and his realm felt solidly at the Extreme Devil stage.
Demonic arts had grades and hierarchies. At the top was the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, one of whose powers was to dominate all existing demonic arts. Master it to the pinnacle, and the Asura form appears. The Blood Demon Heavenly Heart Art that the Blood Cult Leader practiced fell under its dominion, leaving him defenseless against Chanho's strikes.
Had Chanho not reached the pinnacle, the Blood Demon Heavenly Heart Art—rated near-equal to the Heavenly Demon Divine Art—might have broken free and wielded great influence. But Chanho's realm and his pitch-black mercy left no such chance.
The Heavenly Demon Divine Art's might was immense, allowing one to stand at the peak of all demons. In the Demonic Cult, which followed the logic of power's dominion, the Cult Leader had always been one who mastered it. Only those designated by the Heavenly Demon could learn it, typically the Young Cult Leader. Cases like the current Heavenly Demon learning it alongside his disciple Ji Hwi-woong were exceedingly rare.
Of course, Ji Hwi-woong had only built foundations with it and learned most arts via the Kingly Art, making it possible—but still rare. To prevent factional strife if too many mastered the pinnacle demonic art, it was strictly controlled to avoid cult schisms.
The Young Cult Leader succeeding the era's Heavenly Demon usually won it through fierce competition among the most talented. The contest began when the Heavenly Demon's eldest son turned seven and lasted ten years. It was utter laissez-faire, allowing factions, intrigue, even assassination among participants. A rare chance for factions to reshape power structures, they staked their lives on it. Pouring everything into heirs to revitalize clans was standard.
In the end, the current Young Cult Leader contest concluded with the Heavenly Demon's son, Ma Chanho, victorious. One of the Demonic Cult's historic five geniuses, with charisma to build alliances, command ability, and ruthless cruelty toward foes—it was a flawless win beyond dispute.
Even before ending the contest and learning the Heavenly Demon Divine Art, Chanho had already shown transcendent prowess.
"Tch."
Draku stood beside Chanho, who had slain the Blood Demon, leaning cockily. The Blood Demon's blood was black-red from his art—absorbing it would only muddy Draku's body, so he clicked his tongue. He itched to absorb after losing to Tian Ailang, but no meant no.
Then, a figure in black armor and fluttering black blood-red robes strode through the Blood Demon Hall's main gate. Kneeling on one knee before Chanho, he reported.
"Black Wind Captain Cho Yeo-un. As per Young Cult Leader's orders, we've cleaned up the resistors inside."
Chanho nodded lightly at the Black Wind Captain. Unlike the previous captain Ji Hwi-woong—cocky but skilled—this one's soldierly emphasis on order and loyalty shone. As the Black Wind Squad always had, he delivered flawless mission execution.
"Good work. We'll use this Blood Demon Hall as temporary HQ. Rename it Heavenly Demon Hall and prepare for a meeting. War is near."
"Understood!"
The Black Wind Captain saluted sharply, then directed his squad to start cleanup.
* * *
Tian Ailang and Dang Jeong-a, influenced by the high altitude, escaped Yunnan's muggy heat for refreshing spring weather after ages. Weather affecting mood, perhaps—they felt rare mental ease despite their grim goal.
They ask why I live in the green mountains; I smile without reply—my heart is at leisure.
Peach blossoms drift endlessly on flowing streams; this is no human world, but paradise.
Dang Jeong-a recited the poem, savoring the pleasant weather.
"Fine poem."
Tian Ailang praised, enjoying the fine day with rare leisure, but Dang Jeong-a smiled bitterly.
"Living carefree in nature, ignoring complicated clans and the world... it looks nice."
"What? Having second thoughts about killing the Tang Clan Lord?"
"No."
Dang Jeong-a shook her head firmly.
"Father—no, the Clan Lord's twisted obsession and madness are already rotting the Tang Clan. When he learns the Twelve are dead and I've turned against him, that madness will explode. It'll spill blood—not just the clan, but everyone around."
Tian Ailang looked at Dang Jeong-a. Her words were resolute, but he saw her clenched hands trembling faintly, hiding it.
Still... he's her father...
Tian Ailang couldn't fully grasp her feelings. To him, who valued family, this was alien. He couldn't fathom her resolve's weight in every moment.
He was heading to end her pain—while causing it. Aiding filial impiety, overturning parent-child bonds.
His tangled thoughts swirled.
Just think of grace and resentment. And me and my people.
Tian Ailang dismissed the broad chaos. Empathy has limits—no grave without a story, but understanding everyone's would never end. If challenged on his right to judge the Tang Clan Lord, he didn't care. If aiding this impiety saved his loved ones and avenged the Demonic Cult, he'd walk through hellfire gladly.
He had no intent to understand or defend the lord's heaven-defying acts anyway.
Red flames flickered in Tian Ailang's eyes.
"Don't worry. I'll make sure to deal with the Tang Clan Lord."
* * *
Tang Clan Lord Dang Cheon-geum bolted upright from nightmare-tossed sleep. The full moon shone bright at midnight, but sleep wouldn't return. He left his chambers and paced the moonlit courtyard. With the Twelve absent, no one was near.
Thinking of them, the lord scowled. The reliable Twelve, reporting regularly, had gone silent. Unlikely anything befell those transcendent masters, but deviations from plan always irked.
The Qi Clan Lord, Southern Forest Beast King, and Beast Tribe hunting the Eight Trigrams Temple were surely crow food by now. Fact. Other pressing matters nagged.
Dang Jeong-a should've reported returning with them by now—her silence bred omens. And three days ago, the Beggar Clan's Sichuan branch leader entered Chengdu. No idea why, but ignoring the Tang Clan in Chengdu was odd. Etiquette demanded greetings upon entering another major sect's turf—yet the branch leader did nothing.
Normally, it'd bruise his pride most, but now unease overshadowed.
In this indefinable malaise, the lord halted abruptly.
And shouted.
"Who's there?!"
His eyes bulged at the empty echo, then he tsked.
"Tch. Getting jumpy?"
Turning to return, he felt cold steel at his throat. Stunned that a Harmony Realm master like him sensed no presence, he moved to counter secretly.
"Don't move. Or you die."
The lord froze.
"...Didn't know the Qi Clan Lord was expert in stealth and assassination too."
From the darkness behind, Tian Ailang emerged smoothly. Pinnacle Phantom Ghost Step.
"Where's Gudok?"
Blood beaded at his throat from the blade, but the lord grew calm, unlike before. How Tian Ailang survived and reached here was mystery—but this was Tang Clan turf.
"Gudok... what deal did you strike with those unorthodox scum? And the Twelve? My daughter?"
"Heh. Daughter... daughter. You say it so disgustingly well."
Tian Ailang's lip curled viciously.