Chapter 382

Chapter 382: Seed (1)

For a fleeting instant, his obscured sight tracked the drifting spirits as they rose toward the sky.

“Haa….”

An exhale of profound easing escaped Il-mok right before he lost consciousness entirely.

Up until this moment, he had maintained his awareness through absolute determination. His focus was utterly spent, and his internal trauma had surpassed its breaking point.

Thud.

The moment the muffled impact of Il-mok dropping to the ground resounded, a furious shriek echoed from the distance.

“Nooooo~!!”

The cry originated from the Blood Cult Leader.

Having used every available dharma instrument to hold off the joint assault, the Blood Cult Leader realized too late that the Heavenly Blood Zombie had fallen in battle.

“Hmph.”

An arrogant scoff followed immediately, and the Blood Cult Leader was sliced completely in half.

Slash!

“You shouldn’t have let your attention wander while facing me.”

Recognizing that both the Heavenly Blood Zombie and the Blood Cult Leader were now eliminated, Yang Mu-ja acted swiftly upon a sudden realization.

Pulling back the blade that the Leg King had intercepted, he deflected his path to strike at the unconscious Il-mok.

“What do you think you’re doing!!”

Stepping forward with superior speed, the Leg King used his hands—which had just been holding the Heavenly Blood Zombie—to intercept Yang Mu-ja’s blade. Concurrently, the Taiji Sword Immortal pointed his own weapon straight at Yang Mu-ja.

“What kind of plot are you running here!!”

While Yang Mu-ja shouted in fury, Bulzon gathered his inner energy and released a solemn Buddhist prayer.

“Amitabha. This youth is likewise a practitioner of corrupted demonic arts.”

Intervening against Bulzon, Huang Bo-eok dropped down from the remains of the Heavenly Blood Zombie to confront the monk directly.

“You fools think you can stand in my path?”

Simultaneously, the Sword Lord attempted to advance toward Il-mok but found his way obstructed by Jin Ha-yeon and Jeong-hyeon, who had just assisted him against the Blood Cult Leader.

Amidst this volatile standoff that threatened to reignite the conflict, an unruffled, poised voice cut through the air.

“That is enough.”

Step by step, Zhuge Mun, the patriarch of the Zhuge family, walked into the center.

“Zhuge family head. Are you choosing to ally yourself with the Demonic Cult as well?”

Facing Yang Mu-ja’s aggressive stare, Zhuge Mun merely gave a light shrug.

“This isn’t a matter of choosing sides. My intention was simply to allow everyone a moment to calm down, which is why I stepped in.”

Saying this, Zhuge Mun flicked open his folding fan to capture the focus of the gathered fighters, letting his gaze sweep across the entire field of battle.

“Observe this devastation. Is more bloodshed truly necessary right now?”

“Hmph. Forcing a halt to this battle only proves your collusion with the Demonic Cult.”

Zhuge Mun paid no attention to the allegations thrown by Yang Mu-ja.

“There is no certainty that the Demonic Cult would emerge victorious if we clash right now, nor is there any assurance for your faction, correct? As I stated, I am merely recommending that we bring this engagement to a close.”

With those words, Zhuge Mun gestured toward a particular section of the clearing.

“Observe that follower of the Form Mountain Sect over there. A medical practitioner might still save his life if he receives treatment immediately, but if hostilities resume this very second, his death is guaranteed. Do you deny this?”

Yang Mu-ja found himself unable to counter Zhuge Mun’s observation.

“The situation is identical for the rest of you. Bulzon, Sword Lord. Shouldn’t our priority be preserving the lives of our remaining disciples and subordinates?”

“…Amitabha.”

“To hear such words from someone who merely spectated until now is utterly ridiculous.”

Curiously, the reprimand from the Sword Lord only caused Zhuge Mun’s expression to turn satisfied.

“An excellent point, Sword Lord.”

“!?”

“I had no desire to remain idle either. My inaction was solely because I harbored doubts regarding the motives of the Alliance Leader and the Chief of Staff. The truth is undeniable now, isn’t it? The Blood Cult had not truly perished before. Though it appears they have now.”

Zhuge Mun’s statement brought a suppressed recollection back to Namgung Jin, Elder Gonghwan, and Yang Mu-ja.

It was the exchange that occurred between the Taiji Sword Immortal and the Leg King upon their arrival on the field.

“…Are you implying the Alliance Leader was actually a puppet controlled by the Blood Cult?”

In response to Yang Mu-ja’s inquiry, Zhuge Mun closed his fan with a snap.

“That remains uncertain.”

While the crowd looked on in perplexity at his direct admission, he spoke onward with poise.

“That uncertainty is precisely why a truce is required. We can always resume our conflict once the facts are laid bare.”

A heavy quietude settled over the expanse the moment Zhuge Mun finished speaking.

His persuasion had successfully managed to de-escalate the immediate danger.

“Tch.”

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Yang Mu-ja returned his blade to its sheath and walked off to assist the severely harmed Form Mountain Sect disciples.

Bulzon and the Sword Lord paused for a brief moment before turning back to tend to the Shaolin monks and the Namgung family combatants.

Predictably, the Leg King and the Taiji Sword Immortal departed to gather the remaining members of the Beggars’ Sect and the Wudang faction, while the leader of the Qingcheng Sect hurried toward Elder Qingmu, who was covered in gore.

“Junior Brother Qingmu!!”

The elder had thrown himself at the Blood Cult Leader like a maddened spirit, only losing consciousness once he saw Namgung Jin end the Blood Cult Leader’s life.

As the surrounding warriors regained their composure to tend to their respective factions, Huang Bo-eok stood alone, maintaining a protective vigil beside Il-mok.

Observing the movements of the Blood Cultists, Jin Ha-yeon, Jeong-hyeon, and Gu Yang-mun utilized their movement techniques to quickly reach Il-mok’s side.

‘His internal trauma is immense, and his inner energy is completely out of control.’

She shifted her gaze toward the Ascending Heaven Sword that remained plunged into the midsection of the Heavenly Blood Zombie. Being familiar with the weapon’s nature, she could surmise the sequence of events.

The overwhelming torrent of blood energy transmitted through the Ascending Heaven Sword was causing this crisis. Because Il-mok was unconscious and unable to direct it, the blood energy was thrashing wildly within him.

“The two of you must organize the Cult’s forces immediately. I will do whatever it takes to preserve the Young Master’s life.”

“Leave it to me.”

“Understood, Leader Jin.”

As Gu Yang-mun and Jeong-hyeon left to execute her orders, Huang Bo-eok spoke up with evident apprehension.

“Do you actually possess a way to treat him?”

“…There is a single method.”

Jin Ha-yeon spoke with absolute certainty, prompting Huang Bo-eok to offer a nod and give her space.

“Could you keep watch from a distance to ensure no one interrupts us?”

“…From a distance?”

Though the request left Huang Bo-eok confused, Jin Ha-yeon offered no further elaboration as she carefully gathered Il-mok into her arms.

To prevent any sudden movements that might worsen Il-mok’s critical state, she employed her movement techniques with extreme care, directing her path toward Qinghai Lake.

The distance to Qinghai Lake was short, allowing her to arrive quickly. Her first action was to step into the waters while holding Il-mok to cleanse their bodies.

Drenched from the water, she stepped back onto the shore and sought out a secluded patch of brush, calling out to Huang Bo-eok who had maintained a protective distance.

“Keep watch from that position, please.”

“Understood.”

Huang Bo-eok agreed, though his bewilderment remained apparent.

‘What sort of remedy is she attempting?’

Driven by curiosity, he glanced back toward the thicket where Jin Ha-yeon had taken Il-mok, only to freeze in astonishment and immediately look away.

“To think she would employ a yin-yang replenishment method…”

He had caught sight of Jin Ha-yeon shedding her garments.

He possessed too much integrity to spy on a medical procedure.

‘Ugh. If my presence weren’t required for security, I would distance myself further.’

However, with dangerous individuals like Yang Mu-ja, the Sword Lord, and Bulzon still in the area and tracking Il-mok, abandoning his post was not an option.

Moving back slightly to grant privacy, Huang Bo-eok concentrated his awareness entirely toward the direction of their adversaries.

He remained alert to counter any hostile movements instantly.

Meanwhile, noting that Huang Bo-eok’s steps had grown distant, Jin Ha-yeon resolutely stripped off her own clothes before proceeding to unfasten Il-mok’s garments.

Just as Huang Bo-eok surmised, her intended treatment relied on a yin-yang replenishment technique.

Her knowledge combined the various texts from the Podalab Palace with the specific Heavenly Demon Divine Cult methodologies she had acquired via Dam-bin.

Though she lacked practical experience with these arts, her theoretical understanding was vast.

Still, the theoretical knowledge from the Podalab Palace and Dam-bin’s guidance was only part of the requirement.

Her current objective was not to transfer her own inner energy into Il-mok.

Instead, she needed to draw the chaotic blood energy out of his form and into her own.

‘…Even at the cost of my own existence, the Young Master must survive.’

This process demanded that she risk everything.

Blood energy represented pure life force, inherently aligned with yang energy rather than yin. It had only assumed a malevolent nature previously due to the dark magic of the Blood Cult and the malice of the restless spirits.

Since that corruption had been purged, the force saturating Il-mok’s form was now highly concentrated, pristine yang energy.

Consequently, Il-mok’s physical form was radiating heat like a furnace, which had prompted Jin Ha-yeon to bathe him in Qinghai Lake to mitigate the temperature.

With the preliminary stabilizing measures complete, the primary obstacle remained.

The specific martial style she practiced, the Bare Hand Demon Art, utilized yin-cold energy.

Introducing such a massive volume of yang energy into her system risked an immediate conflict with her Bare Hand Demon Art, which could cause Demonic Deviation or cause her physical form to rupture entirely.

Despite the danger, Jin Ha-yeon proceeded without hesitation.

Utilizing the principles derived from the Podalab Palace records, she initiated the yin-yang replenishment technique.

With their physical forms properly aligned, she initiated complete contact.

Driven by the urgency of Il-mok’s failing pulse, she proceeded quickly, causing a sharp, burning sensation to pierce through her.

Inverting the flow of her cultivated martial arts, she redirected her inner pathways, causing a portion of the blood energy circulating within Il-mok’s meridians to cross over into her body through their physical union.

As the blood energy began its full transition, she channeled her complete focus into maintaining the dual cultivation instructions and the core principles of her Bare Hand Demon Art.

Should her concentration waver for even a second due to the intense physical sensations, the process would fail.

Il-mok’s survival took absolute precedence over any personal sensation.

As the fierce yang force surged through her internal channels under her direction, her pathways throbbed with intense agony.

The burning energy was tearing through pathways that had been conditioned strictly for yin-cold energy.

Grit teeth allowed her to withstand the intense discomfort.

‘The Young Master is destined to lead the Cult as its deity.’

Suppressing any outward signs of pain, she persisted in drawing the blood energy into herself for a considerable duration.

Eventually, she encountered a fundamental limitation.

‘…My internal capacity is entirely insufficient.’

Her dantian lacked the volume required to absorb the entirety of the blood energy consuming Il-mok.

This remained true even though she had purposefully emptied two-thirds of her dantian beforehand, bypassing standard Qi Circulation and Breath Adjustment to maximize her intake.

As the overwhelming duality of agony and intense sensation threatened to shatter her consciousness, she formed a grim resolve.

‘I accepted the risk of death from the very beginning.’

The remaining yin-cold energy from her Bare Hand Demon Art within her dantian was forced outward into her meridians, driven back into Il-mok’s body through their physical connection.

Fighting to retain her awareness, she steered the cold force straight into Il-mok’s internal pathways.

She executed this according to the exact Bare Hand Demon Art principles she had spent half her existence mastering.

Gradually, the intense heat radiating from Il-mok’s form began to lessen.

As the departure of her own yin-cold energy created additional vacancy within her dantian, she pulled even more blood energy from Il-mok’s meridians.

Her internal center, naturally structured for yin energy, strained under the unnatural pressure.

An agonizing sensation originated from her dantian and spread through her meridians until her entire body was consumed, causing her thoughts to splinter.

‘I must… keep him alive…..’

She maintained the torturous loop, transferring her yin-cold energy to Il-mok while gathering his burning blood energy in return.

Time lost all meaning.

When consciousness returned to her, Jin Ha-yeon found herself staring out at a landscape she recognized: a familiar snow-covered peak.

Yet, the snow had vanished.

This was the very location where winter had begun to recede, the snow liquefying following their escape from Extreme Demon with the assistance of Il-mok.

Now, it resembled a roaring volcano, radiating a brilliant crimson light.

A destructive fire had kindled at the base, climbing past the lower slopes and the midsection, now ascending toward the absolute peak.

She stood frozen, watching the mountain consume itself in total quiet.

As the inferno finally reached the apex, licking at her feet, her clouded awareness snapped back into focus.

“Young Master!”

Surging upright in panic, she instinctively reached out to grasp the likeness of Il-mok resting beside her.

The movement was entirely automatic, performed without conscious deliberation.

The physical act came first, leaving her mind to deduce the underlying motivation afterward.

‘The Young Master is destined to be the deity of the Cult. I must ensure his safety above all else.’

Holding the image with greater fervor, an immense contradiction suddenly became apparent to her.

Positioned at her feet, burning right alongside her, was the parchment detailing the [Heavenly Demon Divine Cult].

‘Why…?’

How could she place the welfare of the Young Master above the interests of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, the singular purpose that had defined her entire existence?

As the destructive fire that consumed the [Heavenly Demon Divine Cult] parchment climbed from her feet up to her knees, she searched her soul for the explanation.

‘Because he is the one individual I can fully rely on.’

Regardless of what adversity befell the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, Il-mok always possessed the capability to rectify it.

‘Because he has earned my absolute reverence.’

Though he had initially presented himself as indolent, firsthand experience had altered her perspective. She had personally witnessed him spearhead the advancement of the Cult.

‘Because he is the person I desire to have beside me for eternity.’

With that realization, the significance of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult faded entirely from her motivations.

He was simply a person she trusted, respected, and wished to remain with unconditionally, always.

In that precise moment, as the inferno consumed her lower body and reached for her torso, her grip upon the portrait of Il-mok tightened further.

Even if her physical form was entirely reduced to ash, she refused to relinquish her hold on it.

‘Something far more vital than my own survival.’

She struggled to find a single term to encapsulate those intricate sentiments.

Involuntarily, her gaze settled upon the visage of Il-mok depicted on the parchment, and she whispered softly.

“The one… I love.”

She finally acknowledged the profound sentiment she had consistently avoided—or failed to perceive due to the emotional suppression caused by her Bare Hand Demon Art.

Ding.

Accompanied by a resonant sound resembling fracturing glass, the crimson, burning reality began to shift completely.