Chapter 138

Chapter 138
## Chapter 138: Visions of Vengeance (1)

“How in the world did things unravel to this point?”

A heavy breath escaped Gwa Deung, the current Forest Lord of the Blood Forest, as he sat in solitude, tilting his vessel back.

The victory of casting out his sibling and seizing the throne that had been kept from him for years felt hollow. His triumph had been brief, replaced now by a relentless gnawing of disgrace and self-hatred that forced him to seek refuge in a bottle day after day.

“What would have happened if I had simply rejected that wretch’s proposition?”

Whether from an unconscious surge of strength or simple clumsiness, the cup in Gwa Deung’s grip shattered, spraying fragments across the wood.

“Even if I were faced with that crossroads a hundred times more, I know I would choose the same path. Curse it all!”

He was haunted by the memory of his brother’s expression in those final heartbeats—the way he had begged, even as Gwa Deung’s steel bit into him, for the safety of the kin. Those pleading eyes remained burned into his soul like a permanent mark.

“Forest Lord.”

The sound of a voice from the other side of the entrance caused Gwa Deung to hurriedly sweep the broken pottery from the table.

“Enter.”

The heavy door swung open to reveal Heo Ok—a man in his thirties who held the distinction of being the most youthful martial artist in the history of the Blood Forest to reach the prestigious rank of elite assassin.

Heo Ok took note of the jagged shards littering the floor and clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“My, my. If you keep drinking like a madman, you’ll destroy your constitution. You finally grabbed the seat you lusted after for so long—don’t you want to be healthy enough to enjoy it? You should at least have some snacks while you indulge.”

Without waiting for an invitation, Heo Ok sat across from Gwa Deung and served himself a drink.

“Ha! This is top-shelf stuff. The scent alone is enough to kill.”

Gwa Deung offered a bitter, dry laugh at the sight of Heo Ok, who consumed the high-end liquor without a shred of doubt.

“It seems you’ve decided that basic courtesy is no longer required in my presence.”

“Why should we bother with formalities between the two of us?”

Heo Ok dismissed the remark with a wave of his hand and began reaching for the food on the table.

“Between us? And what exactly defines ‘us’?”

Gwa Deung’s voice rose in irritation, but Heo Ok merely continued to chew loudly, ignoring the outburst before draining his cup once more.

*Thud!*

Heo Ok set the vessel down with purposeful force, the casual smirk vanishing from his features as he stood up.

“Five missions completed, ninety-eight lives extinguished. The compensation will be delivered as we discussed—calculated by the head, down to the last soul.”

“You’re going to be a wealthy man before long.”

“This is merely the opening act. We’re going to be pulling in far greater sums very soon.”

“The world is going to realize the truth eventually. They will see that the Blood Forest has turned into nothing more than a subservient dog for the Blood Death Cult.”

“It makes no difference. Even if they suspect, there isn’t a soul who can do anything to stop it.”

Gwa Deung pulled his brows together, failing to grasp the full weight of Heo Ok’s implication.

“You think it’s just the Blood Forest?”

“What are you implying?”

“There are many organizations similar to the Blood Forest tucked away in every corner of the world.”

“Impossible!”

“The shadow of the Cult has already stretched across the entire land. So, don’t feel so singled out…”

The mocking tone Heo Ok directed at Gwa Deung was sliced short by the sudden, piercing blast of a horn echoing from the exterior.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Heo Ok barked toward the entrance, and Hak Il-gon, a first-rate assassin, stepped inside with a tense, rigid face.

“It appears we have an intruder.”

“An intruder?”

“Indeed. Two short blasts—the unmistakable signal of an active invasion.”

“Curse it! From which path?”

“The South.”

“There is no way word of this location has leaked already. Did we fail to eliminate some witnesses?”

“We are certain no one escaped us.”

“That makes it even more baffling. An uninvited guest appearing out of thin air under these circumstances.”

“What are your orders for our defense?”

“Orders? The Blood Forest has never permitted a stranger to gaze upon our inner sanctum. It is time to show them why we are considered the premier force in the Central Plains. Have all the field agents returned?”

“Two units are still out on assignment.”

“That will suffice. Move out.”

As Heo Ok prepared to depart, he cast a final glance over his shoulder.

Gwa Deung remained seated, lifting his drink as if the chaos outside was of no concern to him whatsoever.

Heo Ok let out a sneer and gave a mockingly deep bow toward the Forest Lord.

“I’ll take my leave. And do try to remember to eat your snacks.”

—

The party led by Sima Geon had pulverized one of the Blood Forest’s perimeter guard posts without losing any momentum.

Though the quick-thinking guards had managed to sound the alarm, the group ignored it. They had never intended to rely on stealth for this mission.

Further up the slopes of the mountain, the silhouettes of dark structures began to reveal themselves through the gloom.

“Is that the place?”

Cheol Woo inquired.

“Yes,” Gwa Yu answered.

“It’s quite a distance. I figured we’d be there in a flash once we cleared the outposts.”

“Practically speaking, the entirety of Ox Mountain serves as the domain of the Blood Forest.”

Gwa Yu spoke with a hint of sorrow in his voice.

“I can see it now. They’ve already positioned themselves heavily.”

Cheol Woo let out a mocking snort at the thick aura of murderous intent radiating from the surroundings.

The hidden assassins were attempting to suppress their presence, but to a grandmaster like Cheol Woo, such efforts were futile. Only those of elite-rank or higher could possibly hope to remain hidden from his senses.

“The place is riddled with traps as well. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call this mountain one massive mechanical snare.”

At Gwa Yu’s warning, Noe Jeon let out a chuckle while absentmindedly stroking Black Wolf’s head.

“Traps? Hah! Hearing about traps brings back some old memories. Have you ever heard tell of the Ghost Gate Clan?”

“I haven’t.”

Gwa Yu shook his head in the negative. Noe Jeon nodded, looking slightly let down but not surprised.

“I suppose that makes sense. Your organizations wouldn’t have had much crossover. The point is, the Ghost Gate Clan made their reputation on things exactly like this.”

Noe Jeon tapped the side of his temple.

Man Chu, who had been listening intently, chimed in with excitement.

“Like the Zhuge Clan, then?”

“Precisely. In the realm of the demonic path, they are our version of the Zhuge Clan. The clever little schemes cooked up by those brains of theirs gave us endless trouble. I got burned more times than I care to count.”

“That is a fact.”

Even Cheol Woo, who usually delighted in arguing with Noe Jeon, offered his agreement—giving the story a heavy sense of validity.

“The Ghost Gate had a stronghold much like this Ox Mountain, and laying siege to it was a total nightmare. There were traps at every corner and hidden mechanisms everywhere. Not to mention bizarre formations scattered throughout the terrain.”

Noe Jeon gave a small shiver, as if the memory still chilled his blood.

“I even have a souvenir from that time.”

Noe Jeon pulled up his garment to reveal a scar the size of a fist on his left flank. It was a jagged, ugly mark indicating a severe injury.

“I was struck by an arrow, but it wasn’t a standard bolt. The head was designed to split apart like fingers once it hit, locking into the muscle so it couldn’t be pulled out. If it had been removed with care, I wouldn’t have this mark—but some clumsy brute just yanked it out, taking half my flesh with it.”

As Gwa Yu and Man Chu turned their attention toward him, Cheol Woo gave a disdainful snort.

“Don’t listen to his nonsense. If I’d left it in, you’d be a corpse. That arrowhead was coated in venom. I saved your miserable life, you ungrateful wretch.”

Gwa Yu and Man Chu’s eyes darted back to Noe Jeon.

Realizing the truth had been outed, Noe Jeon pivoted the conversation smoothly.

“Regardless, my point is this—we even took down the Ghost Gate Clan. I’m not suggesting the Blood Forest is weak, but compared to them? These traps are child’s play.”

Noe Jeon stood tall with his chest puffed out, and Cheol Woo gave a slow nod of concurrence.

Man Chu looked between the two of them before asking in a low voice.

“Do you know the locations of all these traps?”

“I do.”

“And you can guide us around them?”

“I can bypass them, yes—though I won’t be stopping to disarm them.”

Man Chu looked back at Noe Jeon and Cheol Woo.

“He says he knows the way.”

Noe Jeon and Cheol Woo, their faces turning a shade of embarrassed red, decided to take their frustration out by patting Black Wolf a bit too roughly.

“Take the lead. Pay no mind to the others.”

“Understood.”

At Sima Geon’s command, Gwa Yu moved to the front.

With Sima Geon following closely and the rest of the party trailing behind, they began the ascent.

The trails leading toward the heart of the Blood Forest were thick with lethal snares, but just as Gwa Yu had promised, not a single one was triggered by the group.

The assassins lying in wait began to feel a sense of dread—they had relied on the mountain’s defenses to whittle down the invaders.

A master might spot a few traps and sidestep them, but to navigate past every single one? That was impossible.

The reason for their success soon became clear.

A few of the hidden watchers recognized Gwa Yu’s silhouette.

The news of his return rippled through the ranks of the assassins. However, those who had been loyal to the previous lord had been wiped out long ago. Those who remained were those who sought profit or simply drifted with the changing winds, and they had no qualms about turning their steel against their former comrade.

Any sense of guilt was replaced by a collective, unspoken pact—they had to kill him to bury the shame of their betrayal. The resolve spread through the hidden ranks like a silent plague.

As Gwa Yu safely navigated the group past yet another mechanism, the assassins reached their breaking point and attacked.

“Tsk tsk. These assassins have absolutely no patience.”

Cheol Woo noted the approaching shadows and let out a mocking sneer.

“Very well, it’s time for a lesson on why stealth and patience are a killer’s greatest assets. Let’s start with this oversized mole.”

Cheol Woo’s eyes glittered with intent as he brought his foot down hard.

Ryu Un, a highly skilled assassin who was utilizing the Earth Escape technique to move beneath the soil, never got the chance to surface. His spine was shattered by the shockwave, his life extinguished before he could even register the attack.

Cheol Woo then caught the stones that had been kicked into the air by his stomp and flicked them with his fingers.

A sharp cry of pain rang out from behind a nearby tree.

The hidden assassin tumbled forward, his face etched with shock. The idea of a mere pebble passing through solid wood to pierce a human heart was beyond his comprehension.

In a way, he was one of the fortunate ones.

Another assassin, whose leg was pulverized by a flying stone, fell helplessly to the ground—straight into the waiting maw of Black Wolf.

While those who dared to target Cheol Woo died quick, unremarkable deaths, the ones who went after Man Chu managed to put on a more significant display.

In particular, Baek Wol, a first-rate assassin, dropped from the canopy in a lightning-fast attempt to ambush Man Chu while he was occupied with other foes.

The strike was incredibly swift. If Sima Geon had not intervened with a well-timed Thunderclap Palm to knock the blade away from Man Chu’s head, the young man would have been split in two.

Baek Wol did not let the failure stop him; the moment his feet touched the dirt, he lunged at Man Chu’s midsection. But his second attempt was met by yet another Thunderclap Palm.

It was only then that Man Chu realized the danger, turning in alarm—but Baek Wol was already hitting the ground, a hole bored clean through the center of his forehead.

“Th-Thank you.”

Man Chu tried to calm his racing pulse and gave a respectful bow.

“You must never lose your focus in the middle of a skirmish. That goes double when you’re fighting assassins.”

Sima Geon, standing calmly at his side, offered a brief word of advice.

“I will keep that in mind.”

“That being said, your previous strike was quite impressive. That Burst Fist was a perfect connection.”

Sima Geon gestured toward the body of the assassin Man Chu had been fighting previously.

The man’s ribcage, where the Burst Fist had landed, was collapsed inward with terrifying force—as if he had been struck by a massive iron sledgehammer.