Chapter 1751. I'm also someone who failed to uphold the laws (1)

Swoosh!

A chilling sound echoed, and a blood-stained hand pitifully flailed in the air.

"Ugh... ughhhh..."

The hand, which had been meaninglessly waving in the air, fumbled to grasp the sword embedded in the chest. The tough skin of the palm split open, and sticky blood flowed out, but with the chest pierced, the pain in the hand was not felt.

"Uugh..."

Despair flashed in the eyes that had been filled with rage, and all remaining strength drained from the blood cultist's body.

Sssrrk.

The lifeless body crumpled to the ground. It was never a pleasant sight, no matter how many times one saw it. However, Cheong Myeong, who had driven the sword into the blood cultist's chest, looked down at the scene without a shred of sympathy.

It wasn't simply because the opponent was an enemy.

Just because they look like humans and speak like humans doesn't make them humans. To Cheong Myeong, these were beings who had abandoned the minimum qualifications of being human. Therefore, there was no need to treat them as humans or to have any pity.

Clack!

The sword, which had been embedded in the chest, was roughly pulled out. Cheong Myeong carelessly wiped the blood off his face and glanced back in the direction he had come from.

The bodies of the blood cultists, who had been slashed by his sword, were scattered haphazardly all over the place. He furrowed his brows without realizing it.

Unpleasant memories surfaced.

In the past, such things were quite common. Alone or with another, in places untouched by civilians, he would cut down enemies countless times.

But in his current life, such events were rare. The reason for that...

Cheong Myeong's eyes darkened.

'What were they aiming for?'

It was too disorganized to be called an ambush.

Cheong Myeong had killed a considerable number of blood cultists. Additionally, reinforcements had joined in to clean up the blood cultists in the areas he wasn't in.

But even so, there must have been damage in places their reach didn't extend. Perhaps there was more damage than Cheong Myeong had anticipated.

But even if that was the case, they also must have suffered significant losses in this commotion. Was it really necessary for them to expend so much of their strength just to kill some relatively unimportant people?

A strange sense of discomfort lingered.

'The sense of déjà vu... It's not just because I'm familiar with this kind of scene.'

This was an attack for the sake of slaughter, with no deeper scheme. The lack of humanity, willing to give up their lives for the cause, was also similar.

Of course, it wasn't entirely the same. It couldn't be. But in some aspects, they resembled the ones he knew, the ones he loathed to even recall.

Cheong Myeong glanced down the mountain. He gritted his teeth as he followed the traces of the fleeing blood cultists with his eyes. The muscles in his jaw bulged.

'I'm overthinking it.'

They don't interfere with the central plains. No, it would be more accurate to say they don't interfere with the central plains 'yet'. If those guys truly set their sights on the central plains again, the world wouldn't be this peaceful.

That's right.

Even the situation where the Evil Tyrant Alliance targets Gangbuk and the possibility that it might even lead to a world unified under the tyranny of the Evil Factions felt peaceful to Cheong Myeong. At least, it wasn't moving towards a world devoid of people.

Cheong Myeong's gaze turned to the distant sky.

'It's still too early.'

Not everything is ready yet.

* * *

"Again."

The cold gaze of the Blood Cult Lord made the reporting cultist flinch.

"So I-, I mean... the cult's miracle didn't work on them."

".....The miracle?"

"Yes. The-, the wounds..."

The Blood Cult Lord's eyes, visible through the bandages, narrowed even more. He examined the wounds that the cultist presented as if to say, "Look at this."

The skin, split open by a stab wound, exposed dark, hideous flesh. To an unknowing person, it might have seemed severe, but in truth, it was a wound that the bloodworms would have neatly closed up if they had moved.

"Who were they?"

"One of them was from the Mount Hua Sect."

"The Plum Blossom Sword Demon?"

"No, it was someone else. If it had been the Plum Blossom Sword Demon, I wouldn't have even thought of engaging."

The Blood Cult Lord frowned.

It wasn't a pleasing answer, but it was a wise one. If orthodox sect members heard, they might spout nonsense about a lack of courage. But at least on this side, they had the sense to understand what the phrase "mantis trying to stop a cart" meant.

In any case, what mattered now was one thing.

"There are others besides the Plum Blossom Sword Demon who can wield Immortal qi. Or perhaps…"

The Blood Cult Lord trailed off, lost in thought.

The last time they faced each other, he hadn't noticed such a presence. If it weren't for the Plum Blossom Sword Demon, it wouldn't have been impossible to kill everyone there.

'It's only been a few days since then.'

Did someone capable of using Immortal qi emerge in that short period? Is Immortal qi something that can be mastered so quickly?

"One becomes two, and two become many."

"Pardon?"

"Mount Hua…"

Indeed, it was troublesome.

The Blood Cult Lord briefly glanced at Wudang Mountain. The once charred mountain now showed patches of green here and there, just like those tenacious people.

"And so?"

"..... Judging that the damage would increase if we continued, I ordered a retreat."

"The reason?"

The blood cultist flinched as he spoke.

"You told me not to waste cultists needlessly. It was an order from you…"

The Blood Cult Lord faintly nodded.

"A good decision."

"Thank you."

"But what I'm curious about is whether that result truly followed my order."

"Pardon?"

Crack.

The Blood Cult Lord's hand suddenly dug into the blood cultist's wound.

"Aagh, aaahhh! Cult Lord! Aaaarrgh!"

The blood cultist screamed, eyes rolling back from the excruciating pain as the lord tore open the wound. But the Blood Cult Lord didn't blink and continued to thrust his fingers into the wound.

Crack!

After a moment, the Blood Cult Lord pulled his hand out. In his hand was a bundle of thin, worm-like tendrils.

He quietly examined the white tendrils soaked in dark red blood.

"They're not moving."

They weren't dead, just unresponsive.

'Though saying they're dead wouldn't be entirely wrong.'

The bloodworms were creatures that even the cult hadn't fully understood. They were just mystical creatures passed down through the cult.

"This isn't good."

As a result, they couldn't produce bloodworms indefinitely. If they could, the world would have already been subjugated under the cult's power.

There's an even more troubling reason for the current situation.

'….. Recently, we've been continuously failing to produce bloodworms.'

Nothing had changed in the process, but the results were clearly different from before. This indicated that darkness was gradually creeping over the cult's future.

And now, there were more opponents against whom the bloodworms' miracles didn't work. It felt like being threatened by the enemy's blade at the edge of a cliff with nowhere left to retreat.

"Uugh... ugh..."

The Blood Cult Lord stared blankly at the cultist still groaning in pain.

"Do not confuse your desire to live with loyalty to the cult."

"I- I'm sorry…"

"Lead the injured back. Gather those who have lost the cult's blessing separately."

"I will comply. But… what about you, cult lord?"

Despite the excruciating pain, there was not a trace of resentment in the cultist's eyes. The face of the Blood Cult Lord, hidden by bandages, twitched briefly.

"That is not for you to know."

The Blood Cult Lord turned coldly.

If he were his past self, he would have retreated from here. Suffering losses was not his way. In the Blood Cult, which was declining in power, losing people was the greatest pain.

But now, he couldn't act as he wished. If he failed to carry out that so-called 'suggestion', it was clear what would happen to the cult.

"At the very least, I must save face. To him.… and to them as well."

One of the two purposes for coming here had ended unsatisfactorily. So, he had to achieve the other one perfectly.

His bloodshot eyes stared at the tall mountain.

"I still feel like it's there… on that mountain."

The faint scent of blood brushed his nose. A familiar scent, one he had smelled once before.

* * *

"It seems the Blood Palace has retreated for now. The damage to the main sect isn't significant. The most affected areas appear to be Zhuge and Moyong."

"....."

"In situations like this, it's usually the Beggar Union and Nokrim that suffer the most, as they would handle the search. But since these two sects are currently not deployed for the search of Wudang Mountain...."

To be precise, it's not that they weren't deployed, but that they couldn't be deployed. However, that's not particularly important.

"Hence, Zhuge and Moyong are likely to have considerable discontent. Depending on the situation.…"

The speaker trailed off, gauging the reaction of the person in front of him.

If things continue like this, there could be strong distrust and negative sentiment towards the current leadership of the Heavenly Comrade Alliance. In such a case, sects that hadn't had a voice within the Heavenly Comrade Alliance might gain significant influence.

If only there was a unifying force to gather them.

Despite being aware of all these unspoken words, the person across didn't respond. Instead, he gave a different reply.

"I understand. You may go now."

"Yes, Sect Leader."

The old man closed his mouth completely. The speaker, reluctantly, got up.

"I'll take my leave."

But, as if still reluctant, he kept looking at the old man, Heo Dojin. Eventually, he glanced at the small door in the wall behind Heo Dojin.

Since the elder didn't seem ready to leave, Heo Dojin spoke up.

"Must I urge you?"

".... No, Sect Leader."

"I am no longer the Sect Leader."

"I am aware of that as well."

The Wudang elder sighed deeply, his eyes full of lingering attachment.

Once a figure who seemed poised to control everything in the world, Heo Dojin had now become an old man who had endured many hardships. The tragedy at the Yangtze River and the calamity of Wudang had robbed him of his brilliance.

Thinking that he could somehow bring him back to his former self was nothing but a desire.

"Take care."

Suppressing his bitter feelings, the elder reluctantly turned to leave.

Even after the elder left, Heo Dojin remained still for a long time.

He sat with his eyes closed for so long that several cups of tea had gone cold. Finally, he rose.

Creak.

He didn't head for the large door in front of him but the small side door behind him. This door led to a small backyard, built along a cliff, behind a modest house.

It was a restricted area within the Wudang Sect, accessible only to a select few.

Stepping outside, Heo Dojin silently gazed over the vast expanse of Wudang Mountain. Then, he spoke.

"It seems you haven't yet mastered the art of hiding your presence."

His gaze shifted to the back of the modest house. There was a small, ordinary altar, not unusual for a taoist retreat.

Soon, the altar began to tremble faintly and then started to slide sideways.

Srrk srrrk.

With the sound of rocks scraping against each other, a well-carved staircase leading underground was revealed. A young man, pale-faced, emerged slowly from it.

Heo Dojin looked at the young man.

"I must ask again, what should I call you? Baek Cheon, or Jin Dongryong?"

The young man sighed briefly.

"If you're willing to address me as I wish, then call me Baek Cheon. Even if it goes against law."

Heo Dojin nodded faintly.

"That's not difficult. I'm also someone who failed to uphold the laws."

His voice was tinged with bitterness.