Chapter 137

Chapter 137
## Chapter 137: Journey Toward Jade Mountain (3)

“This insult…… this day…… I will not forget it…… even as a ghost…….”

Holding back the viscera escaping his torn abdomen, the dying warrior spat out a final curse before his strength failed and he collapsed.

“The ones about to kick the bucket always have the same script.”

A group of figures in masks broke into derisive laughter at the mocking words of their superior, who stood watching the light fade from the fallen man’s eyes.

“Is the area cleared?”

The commander shifted his gaze toward the thicket on his left flank as he spoke.

It was impossible to ignore the fact that a terrified survivor had scrambled into the greenery. Every masked operative present was fully aware of the hidden presence; they were simply letting him linger out of calculated indifference.

“Correct. Every throat has been opened without exception.”

“Excellent. Take a brief moment to recover, then we depart to strike the next target on our list.”

“Unit Leader.”

“Speak.”

“Intelligence suggests the primary legions of the Cult are moving against the Nangong Clan. Are we to remain on the sidelines?”

“Our objective is to support the Nangong Clan by crushing these pests crawling in from every corner. We may not stand at the front lines to watch the Nangong Clan fall, but our contribution is vital. Do not lose heart.”

“As you command.”

Following their leader’s instructions, the masked killers began a relaxed intermission.

Concealed within the brush and trembling as he caught their words, Yeo Yung of the Meteor Sect bit down on his lip until it bled, his eyes weeping crimson tears of agony.

The master who had raised him, his uncles, his fellow disciples—all of them had been slaughtered.

The abrupt raid and the treacherous pitfalls the attackers had laid were beyond cruel. Each individual enemy possessed terrifying prowess, but it was the toxin that had paralyzed his elders that proved the most devastating. They had been butchered like cattle without a chance to mount a defense.

He had only managed to preserve his own life by burrowing into the dense growth.

He should have stood his ground with the others, but in the final moment, sheer terror had paralyzed his limbs.

He loathed himself for such weakness.

And yet, survival was his primary duty. He had to live to bear witness and warn others that the Heavenly Demon Cult was setting traps along the corridors leading to the Nangong Clan.

Just as Yeo Yung gathered his resolve, the atmosphere shifted in a way he could never have predicted.

“You took your sweet time.”

“They certainly made a mess of things.”

Startled by the unexpected voices, Yeo Yung pressed himself into the dirt and peered through the leaves.

“Aah!”

Unable to suppress a cry of shock, Yeo Yung tumbled backward. The Black King peered at him with a look of pity before turning his head away.

“Why startle the poor kid? He’s already having a nightmare of a day.”

Thunderclap gave the Black King’s flank a playful nudge.

“Pardon the scare. There is no cause for alarm. This one is a gentle soul underneath it all.”

As Thunderclap attempted to calm Yeo Yung, the masked killers—jolted by the intruders—scrambled to form a defensive ring around their captain.

“Who are you people?”

The leader’s voice was sharp with apprehension.

“You’ll learn that soon enough. I heard some talk about ‘our Cult’ and the Nangong business. Are you lot supposed to be from the Heavenly Demon Cult?”

Cheol Woo ran a hand over the Black King’s head as he stepped forward with the question.

The commander paused for a heartbeat before barking out a defiant confirmation.

“We are!”

“Total crap!”

Cheol Woo’s lips curled into a disdainful smirk.

“Hey, do any of you recognize this fellow here?”

Responding to the cue, the Black King paced forward and performed a slow circle.

“…….”

The masked group, baffled by Cheol Woo’s inquiry and the beast’s behavior, remained silent.

“You claim to serve the Heavenly Demon Cult but you don’t recognize him? What kind of amateur hour is this?”

“Ridiculous! Why should we know anything about a common mutt?”

“He’s a wolf, for one. And anyone with a history with the Heavenly Demon Cult would know him the moment they saw him. In fact, he’s probably more famous than the Great Cult Leader himself.”

The moment Cheol Woo finished, he gave the Black King a signal. The beast lunged, closing the gap with the nearest masked assassin.

Locking his jaws onto the man’s leg, the Black King whipped his head violently. The assassin screamed in agony, thrashing for a few seconds before his body went limp.

“Still not ringing any bells? Stop with the Heavenly Demon Cult charade and give me the truth. Who are you really?”

Cheol Woo reached down and tore the mask from the dead man’s face.

The face revealed was a man in his thirties, eyes frozen in a mask of horror.

The commander issued a single, desperate order in response.

“Kill them!”

Though the clearing was small for thirty combatants, the masked killers moved with the fluid precision of men born to the woods.

They utilized the trees and shadows with expert skill, and several utilized advanced concealment arts as they searched for a weakness in Sima Geon’s party.

“These fools! I can read them like a book.”

Cheol Woo scoffed as he saw them attempting stealthy maneuvers, using their own allies as distractions.

Their posture, their choice of short blades—it was the classic signature of an assassin.

“Are you from the Four Blood Woods?”

Cheol Woo asked as he kicked away a man trying to crawl toward his ankles. Without waiting for a reply, he intercepted a blade from a lunging attacker and drove a heavy fist into the man’s skull. The assassin’s face shattered; he died instantly.

That was the turning point.

While the masked killers had the advantage of numbers, Sima Geon’s group held the absolute advantage in martial power. The Black King, a veteran who had waded through blood alongside the Divine Demon Division, was a creature that lived for the chaos of battle. Darting through the ranks, he left a trail of mangled remains behind his teeth and claws.

In less than a quarter of an hour, the masked men were broken, their ranks decimated.

“Ugh…….”

The leader, his chest caved in by a blow from Cheol Woo, gasped for air as he slumped against a boulder.

“Let’s have a look at the face of this comedian pretending to be a Cultist.”

Cheol Woo ripped off the leader’s mask, causing a sharp intake of breath from Gwa Yu.

“A familiar face?”

Sima Geon inquired.

“It is.”

“Four Blood Woods?”

“Precisely.”

Gwa Yu stared down at the leader, Go Pung Lu, the premier executioner of the Four Blood Woods. Only now, through the overwhelming aura of the Black King and Cheol Woo, did Go Pung Lu recognize Gwa Yu’s features—and a look of pure dread took hold of him.

“Unmask the rest.”

On Cheol Woo’s command, Thunderclap and Manchu stripped the masks from the injured and the dead.

“Are they all Four Blood Woods? No outsiders?”

“It appears so.”

Gwa Yu replied, his voice heavy.

“How curious. Assassins of the Four Blood Woods masquerading as the Heavenly Demon Cult to slaughter the Nangong Clan’s allies? Captain, are you seeing the logic here?”

“I am.”

Sima Geon nodded before looking toward Manchu.

“The Heavenly Demon Cult hasn’t shown any unusual shifts, have they?”

“No. Even after the Zhuge Clan exposed the existence of the Blood Fiend Cult, they haven’t slowed their march. But there is clearly an internal struggle brewing, isn’t there?”

“Likely. It isn’t just the Heavenly Demon Cult—every organization the Zhuge Clan contacted is working overtime to root out Blood Fiend Cult infiltrators. That is why they are resorting to these desperate measures.”

“They fear we might abandon the conflict.”

“Nothing else justifies such a clumsy, high-risk play. These people have always preferred the deep shadows until this moment.”

“Why complicate it? They’ve been outed, so now they’re just going to burn the whole house down.”

Cheol Woo offered a blunt summary before walking over to Gwa Yu, who stood frozen in contemplation.

“What is your plan for these survivors?”

When Gwa Yu hesitated, Cheol Woo placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Some people are beyond redemption. Especially those who turn their coats.”

Cheol Woo gave Gwa Yu a knowing smirk before moving back.

Gwa Yu thought for a moment, then began walking toward the wounded assassins.

He had watched his own kin be butchered. Had he not wept tears of blood and dedicated his life to retribution?

“P-Please…… mercy…….”

The edge of a cold, azure blade pierced the throat of the man begging for clemency.

Now that his mind was made up, Gwa Yu’s blade moved with cold efficiency.

Within moments, he had ended the lives of every assassin present, save for Go Pung Lu.

“Why keep that one breathing?”

Cheol Woo asked, watching the scene with his arms crossed.

“I thought we might require a living witness for questioning.”

“Questioning? For what?”

“A few details.”

“A waste of effort. Small fry like him won’t have the answers you want. If you want information, we’ll just have to catch someone higher up the ladder.”

Hearing Cheol Woo’s assessment, Gwa Yu ended the matter without a second thought.

Go Pung Lu’s eyes pleaded for a chance to speak, but Gwa Yu remained unmoved.

Once Go Pung Lu was dead, Cheol Woo called out toward the undergrowth.

“Hey, the show’s over. You can come out now.”

The bushes rustled, and Yeo Yung appeared, trembling and small.

The first group had terrified him, but these men who had annihilated them with such ease were perhaps even more daunting.

“Don’t look so frightened. We aren’t your enemies.”

Cheol Woo tried to soften his voice, but his towering frame and scarred face only made the traumatized Yeo Yung recoil further.

Seeing the boy’s distress, Manchu stepped in.

“I am Manchu, a student of the Beggars’ Sect. How did you get caught in this mess?”

The mention of the Beggars’ Sect brought a flash of relief to Yeo Yung’s face.

“Y-Yeo Yung…… of the Meteor Sect.”

The name was unfamiliar, but Manchu kept a polite expression.

“What brings the Meteor Sect to these parts…… Ah, you were heading to join the Nangong Clan?”

“Yes. We were traveling to support the martial world of Jiangnan. But those monsters struck us without warning…….”

Catching sight of the tragic remains of his master and his brothers, Yeo Yung broke down into fresh sobs.

“I understand.”

Manchu waited with quiet respect until Yeo Yung found his voice again.

“You may have heard us talking, but those men were not from the Heavenly Demon Cult.”

“What? Then who was responsible for this?”

Yeo Yung asked, his voice shaking.

He had been so focused on the Black King earlier that he had missed the conversation between Go Pung Lu and Cheol Woo.

“They were killers belonging to the Four Blood Woods.”

“Oh…… the Four Blood Woods.”

In his youthful innocence, Yeo Yung had never even heard the name.

“More importantly, they were executing the will of the Blood Fiend Cult.”

“I…… I see.”

Manchu realized from Yeo Yung’s dull reaction that the boy knew nothing of the Blood Fiend Cult either.

“Think of them as villains trying to provoke a war between the Heavenly Demon Cult and the martial circles of Jiangnan.”

“Those monsters!”

The group shared a series of grim smiles at Yeo Yung’s delayed fury.

He was clearly a novice who had never ventured far from his sect’s walls.

“We can discuss this further later. For now, you should tend to your fallen comrades.”

At Sima Geon’s suggestion, Yeo Yung realized his neglect and hurried to his master’s side. The body was already turning cold.

The toxins had turned his master’s skin a dark hue, and though only a short time had passed, the signs of corruption were already appearing.

“M-Master…….”

Yeo Yung fell to his knees, his weeping echoing through the woods.

He cried for the loss of his teacher, but also for the crushing weight of surviving as a coward while those he loved perished.