The White Blood Archbishop
Celine, Archbishop of the White Blood Cult, swallowed dryly as she stared at her own arm lying on the ground.
What is this? Where did it all go wrong?
The moment she laid eyes on the boy named Raon, the bloodlust she'd been holding back surged like madness. It meant a special power dwelled in his blood. She wanted to drink that blood and grow stronger.
Darigon had told her to kill him if the chance arose, so she immediately began chanting her charm spell and approached Raon.
Up to that point, it had been perfect. He had opened his arms to her, and his pupils had gone slack.
But the instant she tried to drive her Blood Hand into his heart, a piercing blue light flared in Raon's eyes, and he thrust a dagger at her with terrifying speed.
She hastily condensed her blood energy, but the dagger tore through it as if it were nothing and split her arm.
Blood streamed in thick drips from the cleanly severed forearm, yet she still had no idea what had just happened.
"Kh..."
Celine bit down hard on her paling lips.
It hurts like hell.
The White Blood Cult's cultivation art, the White Soul Aura, possessed the ability to dull both mental and physical pain—yet that pain-dulling function seemed to have vanished. A vicious agony pounded through her skull.
"H-how did you break my spell? What did you do to me?!"
"You're the one who did something."
Is it that dagger?
Now that she looked, a savage demonic energy was swirling from the dagger in Raon's hand. The energy clinging to the blade seemed to be interfering with her regeneration and continuously inflicting pain.
"So that dagger dispelled my spell."
Celine glared at the dagger, her face twisting.
"Who knows?"
Raon offered a faint smile as he twirled the dagger in his hand. His expression was calm, as if he thought it was already over.
To be that composed in the face of the blood energy she was radiating—he was on a completely different level from the two fools behind him.
"You think you've won?"
Celine steadied her breathing and extended her dripping arm. White Soul Aura spread like wildfire, and the severed hand flew back on its own, attaching itself to her arm.
White steam hissed as the dagger-cut arm began to reconnect. It was the regenerative function of the White Soul Aura.
"If you keep acting so relaxed..."
Celine clenched the reattached fist, her golden eyes flashing.
"I'll put a hole through that neck of yours!"
Raon narrowed his eyes at Celine's reattached arm.
Regenerative ability.
The White Blood Cult's cultivation art, White Soul Aura, was said to grant regenerative power exceeding that of a troll.
Judging by how she reattached the arm, this woman's rank was at least Archbishop.
But looking at her complexion, she hadn't fully recovered. The Requiem Sword's demonic energy would still be inflicting vicious pain.
What an ugly power.
Wrath snorted as if it were laughable.
A power that grows stronger by stealing others' blood. Filthy and crude. If it were This King, I'd freeze her on the spot and drain every last drop of that filthy creature's blood.
He tapped Raon's wrist, telling him to get rid of her quickly because she was an eyesore.
"Eek!"
"Hah..."
Dorian and Zatis, finally coming to their senses, screamed in horror.
"W-White Blood Cult!"
Both of them realized the woman before them was an executive of the White Blood Cult and hastily backed away.
"V-Vice Squad Leader!"
"I'm fine. Stay back."
Raon waved them off and focused his gaze on the White Blood Cultist.
"Judging by how you reattached that arm, you're around Archbishop rank?"
"You know that and you're still acting relaxed? You'll regret giving me time."
"Will I?"
The reason he wasn't attacking now was simple. This mission wasn't about killing that woman—it was about solving the disappearances. He needed to extract as much information as possible.
"I'll kill you!"
The Archbishop pressed her palms together and began chanting a spell in an unknown language.
A low, rumbling hum filled the alley. Her entire body turned white, and a thick floral fragrance wrapped around every stone and shadow. The moment he caught the scent, his head went fuzzy. It was a far more powerful spell than the charm from before.
Doesn't matter anyway.
The instant the Ring of Fire resonated, the fragrance melted away. A charm of that level meant nothing to him. He looked down at the Archbishop with clear eyes.
"H-how in the world..."
The Archbishop's lips trembled in disbelief.
"If that's all your charm amounts to, giving you time was pointless."
Raon smiled coldly and reversed his grip on the Requiem Sword.
"Let's finish this."
He kicked off the ground and plunged into the space filled with blood energy. His body felt crushed, but the Ring of Fire and the Requiem Sword shoved all the blood energy aside.
"You bastard!"
The Archbishop glared and thrust out a Blood Hand. Even in her panic, the form was unshaken. It was a Blood Hand Technique worthy of the Archbishop rank.
But it fell a bit short compared to her spells. The Archbishop before him seemed to have delved more into sorcery than martial arts.
Raon spun the Ring of Fire at full power, concentrating on the Archbishop's successive Blood Hand Techniques. The Blood Hand Technique was a basic martial art of White Blood Cult executives, so studying it properly would be a great help in future fights.
"Die!"
The agitated Archbishop, unaware that Raon was observing her, continued thrusting her hands.
The entire alley exploded from the energy blooming from her knife-hands, but Raon didn't take so much as a scratch.
Fast, fierce, and sinister.
It was a simple martial art—and that was what made it strong.
"You rat! How long are you going to keep running?!"
"Then I'll stop."
Raon put force back into the left foot he'd been about to withdraw and advanced.
"Huk!"
He chased the startled, retreating Archbishop and brought the Requiem Sword in his right hand down in a slash.
"Eek!"
The Archbishop glared and thrust a Blood Hand packed with blood energy.
Sword and knife-hand collided, ringing out as if two chunks of metal had smashed together.
But they weren't evenly matched. The Requiem Sword's ferocious demonic energy, burning with resentment, tore through the Archbishop's blood energy and drove in.
"Eek!"
The Archbishop's pupils trembled.
Now.
Without easing the force in his right hand, Raon quickly moved his left and drove a red pin into the hem of the Archbishop's upper garment.
The moment he confirmed the pin was properly planted, he twisted his body and kicked her in the waist.
"Keuk!"
The Archbishop groaned as she slammed into the wall.
Raon charged without giving her an opening and drove the Requiem Sword down into her shoulder. Grotesque, luminous blood sprayed up like a fountain.
"Kyaaaaah!"
To escape, the Archbishop tore the flesh of the shoulder where the Requiem Sword was embedded and slipped sideways.
"I'll kill you!"
She raised her fingers and thrust them forward. White light surged from her fingertips and shot out like a flash. It was the Blood Finger Technique, blasting sword-energy-like power from her fingers.
Raon didn't let this technique pass either. Operating the Ring of Fire, he read the flow of the Blood Finger Technique and slashed with the Requiem Sword.
A blade of demonic energy arcing in a half-circle shredded every last bit of the Blood Finger Technique's energy.
"I'm not done yet!"
The Archbishop, determined to finish it, kept firing lines of blood energy, but they couldn't pierce the wall of demonic energy the Requiem Sword sprayed and all melted away.
"W-what in the..."
The Archbishop stumbled backward in panic. Raon advanced just as much, pressing her.
"Stay back!"
"You told me not to act relaxed, and this is all you've got?"
Raon smiled coldly and tilted his chin.
"As expected, the White Blood Cult was behind the Forban disappearances."
"A-as expected?"
"Because you're the only ones who pull this kind of filthy work."
"Shut up!"
"Why did you attack me? Did you think you could drink my blood that easily?"
"I said shut up!"
The Archbishop leaped forward as she fired the Blood Finger Technique. Raon slashed the Requiem Sword diagonally at her, who hadn't even pulled her hand back in time.
A sword mark bloomed from her shoulder down to her waist, and murky blood filled the air.
"Kyaaaaah!"
The Archbishop screamed, clutching the wound.
"Where is your branch? Are the people you kidnapped still alive?"
"Keuk..."
She didn't answer, staggering like a drunk before stopping with her back against the wall.
"F-fine... Let's end it here. I'll kill you, at least."
The Archbishop's eyes filled with madness as she pressed her hands together, forming a triangle.
As the muttered incantation spread through the air, crimson light erupted from the triangle, and an enormous energy began to surge.
"Just like this... Kh! What?!"
Right before that energy could explode, a pale hole appeared in the wall she'd been leaning against, generating a spiral vortex.
"Damn it! Darigon! What the hell are you doing?!"
The vortex sucked in the Archbishop mid-incantation, and she began to be drawn in, curling into a circle.
Celine revealed her own name, screaming in rage, and then the hole closed completely.
"What, she ran?"
A light voice came from behind, accompanied by a cheerful breeze. It was Rimer.
"Unfortunately, it seems she fled at the sight of you, Squad Leader."
Judging by the situation, it wasn't the Archbishop herself—her comrade had created an escape hole upon seeing Rimer.
"Hmm? You don't look disappointed."
Rimer smirked, looking at Raon's calm eyes.
"Is that so."
Raon shrugged. That was right. He wasn't particularly disappointed. Honestly speaking, he'd let her go on purpose for something bigger.
"V-Vice Squad Leader!"
"Are you all right?"
Dorian and Zatis, who'd been glued to the wall, came running.
"I'm fine."
He waved them off and approached Rimer, who was examining the bloodstains on the ground.
"As expected, the White Blood Cult was behind the disappearances."
"Well, I figured as much."
Rimer smacked his lips, looking at the crimson blood as if he'd already known.
"That's at least mid-tier among Archbishops, and you overwhelmed her. Did you get stronger again?"
"She seemed to have built her power mainly through sorcery, so she wasn't that strong."
Celine's spells were powerful, but her martial force hadn't left much of an impression.
"Huh..."
"That wasn't strong?"
Dorian and Zatis gaped, speechless.
"You're probably the only one who'd say that about an Archbishop of the White Blood Cult."
Rimer chuckled as he stood.
"Still, it's a shame. If we'd caught her, we could've found the headquarters' location."
"It would have been difficult. Torture doesn't work on them."
White Blood Cultists were fanatics—the kind of stubborn breed on whom torture had no effect. In his previous life, he'd tortured White Blood Cultists for days and they still hadn't opened their mouths.
"True, they're vicious. That's why the White Blood Cult's main headquarters still hasn't been found."
"Yes. We don't know the main headquarters. However..."
Raon touched the red pin he'd planted in her collar and smiled faintly.
"We might soon find out where the White Blood Cult's Forban branch is."
Celine swung her whitened hand, and the double-layered wall crumbled to powder. It was a force that made it hard to believe Raon had blocked it so easily with the Requiem Sword.
"Fuuuuuuck!"
She clawed at the wounds Raon had inflicted, screaming.
"It hurts! It hurts! The pain won't go away!"
Even while continuously operating White Soul energy, the wounds wouldn't close, and a searing, burning pain persisted.
"Darigon! Do something!"
"Calm down."
The old man called Darigon approached, frowning.
"Why did you summon me?! If I'd killed him, I wouldn't be in this pain!"
"Rimer was on the move. If you'd stayed, you would've been caught."
"Keuk..."
Celine ground her teeth and scraped the wall with her nails. The wall split and mashed like pudding.
"Don't smash things. We still need this room."
Darigon clicked his tongue and examined Celine's wounds.
"Vicious."
Celine's aura, at Archbishop level, should have already closed every wound, yet a strange power lingering in the sword marks was interfering with regeneration and inflicting burn-like pain.
"Demonic energy. And quite vicious demonic energy at that has seeped in. It'll take a while to purge."
"That's why I have to kill him. No matter what!"
A killing intent so intense it raised goosebumps surged from Celine's eyes.
"I'll kill him! I'll tear his flesh, grind his bones and blood, and drink them..."
"Killing that Raon fellow won't make the wound disappear. The resentment might even take root and never fade for the rest of your life. Besides..."
He injected blood energy into Celine's wound and turned.
"They'll be arriving soon. Change your clothes and finish preparing."
"Kh, damn it! Damn it!"
Celine screamed and slammed the ground. Darigon's office shook as if it would collapse.
"That's why I told you to gather information first. You just let your appetite get ahead of you..."
"Shut up! If you'd seen him, you would've thought of sucking his blood first too!"
"That much, huh."
"Huff, he's mine. I can't let this stand after taking a beating like that! No matter what it takes..."
"You didn't just take a beating."
"What?"
"While you were getting torn apart by that kid, we succeeded on our end of the plan."
Darigon snapped his fingers. The office door opened, and a man in a pure white robe entered, laying down two unconscious people—a man and a woman.
It was Inild and Princess Jayna, who'd been hospitalized in the infirmary after being injured by Raon.
"I heard they were at the infirmary and went to grab them myself. Taking these two with us is no ordinary gain. The King of Valkar will go berserk. He might even declare war on Zieghart."
"Morell would have installed magic artifacts, wouldn't he?"
"Obviously I removed them before bringing them. Do you think I'm an amateur like you?"
Darigon's wrinkled mouth curved in a thin, mocking smile.
"If He permits it, I'll give you Inild. Drink him and recover from that wound."
"You sly old snake."
Celine frowned, as if she couldn't win against him. Her rage seemed to settle, the gold in her eyes beginning to fade.
But neither of them noticed the pins tucked into Inild and Jayna's clothes, gleaming red.
Raon abandoned his original plan to visit the Thieves' Guild and headed to City Hall with Rimer.
He entered the conference room with Morell, who had remained, and the returned swordsmen and mages.
"First, the enemy's identity has been revealed."
Raon raised an energy barrier so that no sound from the conference room could leak out, then stepped up onto the platform.
"Huh?"
"Really?"
"This quickly?"
"Ohh!"
Not only the Light Wind Squad, but Morell and the Salaman mages as well gaped in shock.
It wasn't strange they'd be astonished—City Hall had searched for months without finding anything, and he'd uncovered it in a few hours.
"Quite a few of you probably already guessed. The mastermind behind the kidnappings is the White Blood Cult."
As he said "White Blood Cult," he pulled out the cloth stained with Celine's blood. People's gazes wavered at the murky light that didn't look like a living creature's blood.
"What a disgusting color..."
"White Blood Cult!"
"So it was them after all."
"Keuk..."
"Those vicious bastards!"
The Light Wind Squad and Salaman, as military forces of the Six Kings, didn't fear the White Blood Cult—one of the Five Demons—and instead burned with fighting spirit.
But there was one person whose killing intent surpassed even that.
Marta. Her black eyes, like hellfire, gleamed as she unleashed a killing intent so chilling it made everyone in the conference room turn to look at her.
Why is the beef girl acting like that?
So it was the White Blood Cult.
Raon narrowed his eyes at the ghost fire burning in Marta's pupils.
He'd thought she was just uniquely vicious because she'd always been so stubborn, but it seemed she'd suffered at the hands of the White Blood Cult before joining Zieghart.
"How did you get that blood, and where did you clash with the White Blood Cult?"
Morell's eyes went round as he pointed at the cloth stained with Celine's blood.
"Clash?"
"D-did you clash with them."
When Raon echoed the last word, Morell gritted his teeth, the respectful phrasing slipping out against his will.
"On the way to find the Thieves' Guild..."
Raon told them everything, from fighting Celine to her escape.
"Y-you cut down an Archbishop and made her flee?"
"Someone who just became a swordsman..."
"Hah..."
Morell's pupils trembled in disbelief, and the Salaman mages swallowed dryly.
"Just what are you..."
Burren, too, seemed startled enough to lapse into his usual informal speech.
"White Blood Cult..."
Runaan and Marta simply stared at the blood-soaked cloth, but their emotions were utterly different. Unlike Runaan, who looked on without much feeling, Marta glared as if she wanted to chew it up on the spot.
"Still, it's a shame."
Morell turned his head and let out a short sigh.
"They won't show themselves now. No matter how insane the White Blood Cult is, they aren't the type to keep moving after their identity's been exposed to Zieghart and Valkar."
He was right. They needed to take the kidnapped people with them, so they'd be preparing to pull out now.
But this time was different.
"This time..."
Just as Raon was about to speak, the conference room door burst open roughly, and Zatis, who'd gone to the infirmary, rushed in.
"W-we're in trouble!"
His hands trembling, he continued immediately.
"Princess Jayna and Master Inild, who were at the infirmary, have disappeared!"
"What?"
"Huh?"
At the news that the princess and Inild had vanished, everyone shot to their feet.
"Not only the healers at the infirmary, but the knights and mages as well fell into a sleep as if they'd fainted, and only the Princess and Master Inild vanished without a trace!"
"That's impossible! There was no reaction from the artifacts..."
"The artifacts were on the beds where the two of them had been!"
Zatis raised his hands. In his grip were two necklaces and a ring.
"Damn it! We got played!"
"Th-this is...!"
Morell and the mages leaped up, clenching their fists, and the Light Wind Squad swordsmen also swallowed dryly, as if they hadn't predicted this situation.
While everyone was half out of their minds with panic, a clap rang out, snapping them back to their senses.
"Please calm down."
"How am I supposed to calm down right now?! This isn't the time to sit around! If we don't find the Princess somehow, this entire town will become a sea of fire! There could be problems for Zieghart too!"
"It's all right."
Raon received everyone's gazes with the same composed eyes as always.
"Where the Princess and Inild were kidnapped to."
He pulled the red pin from his collar and placed it on his palm. As he raised the energy of the Cultivation of Ten Thousand Flames, the pin floated up on its own and pointed a direction.
"Where the fleeing Archbishop is."
Raon smiled faintly at the people with their mouths hanging open.