The End
This development was different from what I expected.
Normally, when someone falls into qi deviation, their reason vanishes, leaving only raw instinct behind. In that state, it should have been impossible for him to chase me down this quickly.
That was how it was supposed to work, yet the figure of demonic energy visible in the distance clearly belonged to Do-gon.
At the sound of the bell, the Tang family warriors moved with perfect coordination.
“Young Master.”
Yuran looked at me with a grave expression. I nodded, confirming her suspicion was correct.
“He’s lost his mind. No matter how strong a demonic practitioner he might be, this is the heart of Sichuan…”
“He’s in qi deviation. He’s lost his reason and can’t make proper decisions anymore.”
A warrior whose energy pathways were severed could no longer be called a warrior. The usual outcome was either becoming a cripple or dying outright. Yet Do-gon had survived, defying all common sense. In exchange for clinging to life, his broken meridians had caused his energy to run completely wild.
He took a direct hit from the White Dragon Sword Scripture. Even the Sal-je would have struggled to endure that.
As expected of the Ju family’s supreme sword art, every form of the White Dragon Sword Scripture carried overwhelming destructive power. Its only drawback was the massive internal energy consumption, but even that flaw could not diminish its status as the greatest under heaven.
“Let’s go.”
I spoke to Yuran and Muyoung. This was a seed I had planted myself. It was only right that I be the one to reap it.
Yuran followed close behind, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. Her pride would never allow her to simply run away.
We headed straight for the Tang family’s main gate. The warriors had already formed ranks there, faces tight with tension. At their head, Tang Hwa-pyeong walked forward with a rigid expression.
He personally opened the gate. Beyond it, dozens of Tang family warriors had surrounded Do-gon, swords leveled at his throat.
“Stand down.”
Having instantly read Do-gon’s realm, Tang Hwa-pyeong ordered the warriors back. They obeyed without a single word, retreating in perfect silence.
Tang Hwa-pyeong stood directly before Do-gon.
“Hmm…?”
He frowned, studying the man closely. Bulging veins, prominent dark spots, skin flushed an ugly mottled red. His breathing was irregular and ragged.
Qi deviation.
It was obvious at a glance that he was far from normal. Tang Hwa-pyeong let out a small sigh. Such cases were not unheard of. Demonic practitioners trained in demonic arts that seeped into their very marrow, sometimes driving them mad. Those who lost their minds became vicious monsters that destroyed or killed everything in sight.
Unfortunately, Do-gon had fallen into that category.
“All this commotion over a single wretch like this?”
Tang Hwa-pyeong rebuked his warriors sternly, then called out quietly to Do-gon.
“Can you understand my words?”
“…Revenge…”
But Do-gon’s gaze was not on him. It was fixed on me, standing further back. Tang Hwa-pyeong glanced over his shoulder and tilted his head.
“What are you looking at—”
“…I will have my revenge!”
Boom!
Before Tang Hwa-pyeong could finish, Do-gon took a step forward. Yet before he could advance further, he was suddenly yanked backward as if pulled by an invisible chain.
“…How ridiculous.”
Tang Hwa-pyeong had seized him by the back of the neck with one hand and dragged him down. He twisted the arm, slipped inside the guard, and drove a palm strike into the abdomen.
Clang!
It was one of the Tang family’s secret palm techniques—the Flying Fluff Palm. Tang Hwa-pyeong’s movements were as light and graceful as scattering willow leaves. Yet Do-gon was not someone who could be felled so easily.
Boom!
Sent flying, Do-gon rose again almost instantly, as if the blow had done nothing at all.
“His condition is severe.”
Tang Hwa-pyeong shook his head and took another step. In the blink of an eye, he was behind Do-gon, hand shooting toward his neck. At the same time, a hidden weapon slipped from his sleeve and flew straight for the throat.
Clang!
With reflexes like a wild beast, Do-gon twisted and knocked the projectile aside.
“Tsk.”
Tang Hwa-pyeong’s expression soured at the growing annoyance.
“Do not… interfere!”
Red eyes blazing, Do-gon charged at him. Tang Hwa-pyeong’s feet moved at blinding speed. The Tang family’s secret movement art—Shadow Illusion Step—left three afterimages as he instantly circled behind Do-gon and thrust out the hand holding the hidden weapon.
As expected.
I watched with genuine admiration. His movements were economical, his speed almost impossible to track. It was no empty title that he was called the Formless Dark King. Though he had not reached the level of the Ten Supremes of the World, Tang Hwa-pyeong possessed strength worthy of one of the Three Kings.
Boom!
Do-gon’s upper body was left completely exposed to the storm of attacks. It was a fatal mistake.
“Keuk!”
He staggered, coughing up blood. His vision blurred and his eyes refused to focus, yet he forced himself up once more. His gaze remained locked on me.
“Hah.”
Tang Hwa-pyeong, however, showed no intent to kill. It’s the chronic weakness of the orthodox factions. When they held the advantage, they offered pointless mercy and acted like saints. I had seen it so often it sickened me. Only the strong could afford such “leniency.”
“Family Head.”
I had no choice but to intervene.
“I know this man. May I deal with him myself?”
“What are you saying? It could be dangerous. Stand back.”
“Do you intend to kill him?”
“None of our people are injured, and he is merely a madman. There is no need to kill him. We can simply lock him away…”
“That is why I will kill him, Family Head.”
My voice was firm.
“If he is not killed, everyone will die.”
“Who would dare attack the Tang family…”
“The head of the Ju family taught me that the murim is exactly this kind of place. Did I learn incorrectly?”
“……”
Tang Hwa-pyeong fell silent. He could not claim I had learned wrongly. That would be an insult to the Ju family—to the Sword Supreme himself. Warriors of the murim were said to walk upon the edge of a blade. It was a truth taught not only by the Ju family but by every sect and clan. Perhaps the orthodox factions alone had stubbornly ignored this fundamental rule.
“…I will handle it.”
Having made my position clear, I walked toward Do-gon. He was already half-mad from qi deviation and had taken too many blows from the Formless Dark King to stand properly.
One of the Twelve Blood Roads.
A being who had once plunged the entire murim into despair had been reduced to a monster driven solely by vengeance.
“Pathetic fool.”
I sneered and hurled the insult at him.
“Grrraaah!”
With a grotesque howl, Do-gon charged recklessly. Tang Hwa-pyeong finally withdrew. I raised my internal energy lightly and met his assault head-on.
I cannot reveal my true power, so I must finish this quickly.
The Jade Heaven Descending Dragon Qi had already transformed the lower-level Dragon Heaven True Qi into its complete form. With everyone watching, there was only one technique I could openly use.
Ju-wall Divine Art.
The foundational energy of the Ju family surged like flames suddenly exploding outward, filling every meridian with stable, pure power.
Hoo.
Normally, cultivating two different energies—even from the same school—was suicidal. The Ju-wall Divine Art was the exception. As the most basic and stable mental technique of the Ju family, it could safely accommodate other powers.
Boom!
In the space of a single blink, Do-gon’s sword slipped toward my side. I twisted at the waist to create an opening, then charged the instant he tried to recover his blade.
Bend. Strike. Shatter.
The Black King Advance Strike Body unleashed its most primal essence.
The technique bent, struck, and shattered in a single fluid motion, carrying the pure destructive essence of the Black King Advance Strike Body.
Crack!
The sound of breaking bone rang out as one of Do-gon’s wrists snapped. I seized the ruined joint, twisted it the opposite way, and drove my weight downward using the principle of the Thousand Pound Drop.
“Ugh… keuk.”
Do-gon tried to force out every last ounce of strength to resist, but it was futile. I had not merely applied weight—I had infused the technique with real power.
Thud!
He finally dropped to one knee.
“A shame,” I whispered in his ear. “If your body had been normal, you wouldn’t have been beaten so miserably. Don’t you agree?”
“…Kuk. Even if I cannot… kill you now… our… cult will… hunt you… to the very end.”
Beyond the rising madness, Do-gon had regained a sliver of sanity for one fleeting moment. His body trembled violently. But the moment passed quickly. His ruined body was already on the verge of collapse.
“Don’t worry. Go to hell first and wait. I’ll send every last one of your demonic cult dogs there to join you.”
Crack!
I seized his neck and snapped it. His head lolled uselessly, and his body crumpled to the ground.
“……”
“……”
Silence fell over the entire area.
Tang Hwa-pyeong frowned and patted my shoulder lightly.
“Your methods were rather excessive.”
I lowered my head in response. Excessive? Not in the slightest. If anything, I had shown remarkable restraint. I had simply ended the living hell they would have suffered later.
“I’ll… rest for a while.”
“Very well. Go and rest.”
I returned to my room while Tang Hwa-pyeong ordered the warriors to clean up the mess.
The Remnant Blood Sal-je, Do-gon. His carelessness had become his death—both in his previous life and in this one.
* * *
Late that night.
In a modest, neatly arranged room that bordered on austere, I sat alone with Tang Hwa-pyeong.
“I heard you collapsed. Was that demonic practitioner responsible?”
“Yes.”
“Yet you appear perfectly fine.”
“Thanks to the care the Tang family provided.”
Tang Hwa-pyeong fell silent for a moment. He had already heard from the physicians that no treatment had been necessary. Still, he chose not to mention it, assuming there were circumstances he did not know.
“You possess an absurd level of internal energy.”
He had seen through my cultivation at a glance.
“How old are you this year?”
“Fifteen.”
“Hehe, fifteen years old and already at that level? The world would be in an uproar if word got out.”
“I would prefer it not become known.”
“Khkh, as expected, the blood of Sword Supreme brother is truly exceptional.”
Tang Hwa-pyeong rejoiced at my achievement as sincerely as if it were his own. He expressed his emotions honestly, without concealment or exaggeration. That straightforward nature was one of the reasons I held the Tang family in high regard.
“Thank you for the praise.”
I looked at him quietly. In truth, I had been the one to request this private meeting.
“So, what did you wish to tell me?”
“Hmm.”
After a brief pause, I spoke heavily.
“The demonic practitioner who died today followed me all the way from Cheonghae Province. Without a single moment of hesitation or error, he came straight to the Tang family looking for me.”
“Is that so? From Cheonghae Province—that is quite a distance.”
Tang Hwa-pyeong answered casually. A dead demonic practitioner was of little concern.
“Are you not curious?”
“About what?”
“Why that demonic practitioner was able to pinpoint the Tang family in Sichuan and find me without any hesitation whatsoever. Or rather… how he managed it.”
“……”
The teacup that had been rising toward Tang Hwa-pyeong’s lips stopped mid-air. A heavy aura suddenly radiated from his entire body.
“The meaning behind those words…”
“It means there may be someone inside the Tang family secretly communicating with the demonic practitioners.”
Crash!
The teacup in his hand disintegrated into powder.
“You would do well to choose your words more carefully.”
“You may not wish to believe it, but otherwise none of this makes sense. From Cheonghae to Sichuan. How could he have known where I would go?”
“……”
I was sorry, but it was the truth. The demonic cult’s uprising was one problem, but the far greater issue was that spies had already infiltrated the orthodox murim. The Tang family was no exception.