Chapter 144

Chapter 144
## Flying Heaven Fortress (1)

The south of the rivers was spiraling into total chaos as the Heavenly Demon Cult’s brutal campaign wiped out the Golden Sword Sect and the Phoenix Sect in rapid succession. While the Nangong Clan—the undisputed masters of the southern territories—remained a formidable bastion, the terrifying speed with which the Heavenly Demon Cult had decimated half the southern martial landscape left everyone paralyzed with fear.

Inevitably, all attention converged on the Flying Heaven Fortress.

Positioned in the eastern reaches of Gangseo Province, the Flying Heaven Fortress represented the final line of defense capable of blunting the Heavenly Demon Cult’s advance and providing a staging ground for the Nangong Clan. With the fall of the Golden Sword Sect and Phoenix Sect, reinforcements from the Nangong Clan and various minor powers answering the Azure Sword Command were flooding into the stronghold.

The very air within the Flying Heaven Fortress felt heavy with the suffocating tension of an approaching war.

Inside his personal study, Fortress Lord Sanggwan Cheon sat slumped in his chair, drained by a grueling day of military planning and receiving the various leaders arriving to bolster his defenses.

The night was deep and silent, but his labor was far from finished.

“Brother, I’ve arrived.”

“Enter.”

At the invitation, Chief Steward Sanggwan Je walked in, his hands full of correspondence.

His face was slick with sweat, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were shot through with red veins. The dark circles beneath his eyes gave him the haunted look of someone suffering from a terminal malady.

“You look like a ghost.”

“I could say the same for you, brother.”

As Sanggwan Je took the seat across from him, Sanggwan Cheon pushed a bowl of herbal tonic across the desk.

“Drink this. It helps restore the spirit.”

“Keep it for yourself. Such remedies only work on those who still have some life left in them. I’ve been drinking the stuff day and night just to stay upright, and it hasn’t done a damn thing.”

Sanggwan Cheon offered a strained smile at his brother’s bleak humor.

The Flying Heaven Fortress had been tracking the Heavenly Demon Cult since before the invasion truly began, a burden that rested entirely on Sanggwan Je’s shoulders. Now that the enemy was at the gates, the sheer volume of work had robbed him of any chance for rest.

“I told you to get some sleep tonight. It’s late; what brings you here now?”

“We have intelligence that the Heavenly Demon Cult has shifted its strategy.”

Sanggwan Cheon paused, the bowl halfway to his lips.

“Shifted how?”

“A portion of the units moving through the heart of Gangseo Province have diverted their course toward us.”

Sanggwan Cheon’s expression turned grim.

“The central front… you mean the Bloodlight War Emperor?”

“Precisely.”

“Curse it all. We are already struggling to prepare for the forces currently marching on us. If his division joins the assault, we might as well open the gates and wait for the end.”

A mirthless, dry laugh bubbled up from Sanggwan Cheon.

The same army that had turned the Golden Sword Sect to ash was now converging on them. Despite the influx of allies under the Azure Sword Command, their combined strength paled in comparison to the cult’s elite. If the Bloodlight War Emperor arrived, the siege would be a slaughter.

“It isn’t the entire force—only a segment.”

“What does that mean?”

“Strangely, while some are coming here, other units that were already headed for our fortress have turned back toward the central plains.”

Sanggwan Je handed over a report to his bewildered brother.

Sanggwan Cheon skimmed the lines quickly, his face reddening before he crumpled the paper in a fit of rage.

“They must take us for complete fools!”

After a moment of silent fuming, Sanggwan Cheon looked at Sanggwan Je, who was calmly sipping tea.

“They are swapping commanders and rotating troops like pieces on a board. What is the point? Why play these games now?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Likely some internal friction or strategic reshuffling. Ultimately, it changes little for us. Whether we face the Bloodlight War Emperor or the Ink Thunder River—the monster who slew the Golden Sword Sect Lord—we are facing demons of the highest caliber.”

“A fair point.”

Sanggwan Cheon gulped down the bitter tonic as if it were hard liquor, winced, and took a bite of a sweet mooncake to clear his palate. Even the sugar could not smooth the deep lines on his forehead.

“The cult’s movements are one thing, but this next report might be even more troubling.”

Sanggwan Je slid another parchment across the desk.

“What else? You’re starting to make me nervous.”

Sanggwan Cheon sighed and began to read, his head tilting in confusion as he processed the words.

“So, travelers and allies moving to support us are being ambushed across the region. But the culprits aren’t the Heavenly Demon Cult… they’re disciples of the Blood Cult? What kind of madness is this?”

Sanggwan Cheon shook the letter in the air.

“It is exactly what it says. We have confirmed reports of multiple massacres in different sectors.”

“I am aware of the ambushes. We discussed the Heavenly Demon Cult’s raiding parties during the afternoon briefing. But why would the Blood Cult be involved?”

“It isn’t every attack, of course. Some are definitely the work of the Heavenly Demon Cult. However, survivors have explicitly identified Blood Cult techniques, so we cannot ignore it.”

Sanggwan Je massaged his temples, trying to ward off a mounting headache.

“The Yeoryeong of the Meteor Sect.”

Sanggwan Cheon looked up after finishing the letter, but Sanggwan Je simply shook his head.

“The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“It’s a tragedy that people whose names we don’t even know are dying for our sake, but how certain is this information?”

“The report originated from the Beggars’ Sect.”

“The Beggars’ Sect. Well, that changes things.”

The reputation of such a source meant the news had to be taken with absolute seriousness.

“Recently, the Four Blood Forests were seized by the Blood Cult, and their agents have been strike-teaming various groups. It’s highly specific. Don’t forget that the Zhuge Clan recently made a formal announcement regarding Blood Cult infiltrators in their own ranks. The Sword Empress herself confirmed it. Every major power is currently conducting quiet internal purges.”

“We don’t need to look at others. We ran our own check.”

Following the warning from the Zhuge Clan, the Flying Heaven Fortress had performed a secret internal audit but found no evidence of moles.

“Damn it, I can’t tell if we are truly clean or if we are just incompetent at finding them.”

“We simply couldn’t find them.”

Sanggwan Je, who had overseen the search, spoke with a grim finality.

“Don’t say such things.”

“Based on the Zhuge Clan’s data, these spies aren’t newcomers; they’ve been embedded for years. With the Heavenly Demon Cult closing in, how can we expect to dig out deep-cover agents in a matter of days? Especially when a public hunt would destroy morale and spark a panic.”

As Sanggwan Je’s voice rose in frustration, Sanggwan Cheon moved to change the subject.

“Fine, let’s leave it. When do we expect the Nangong Clan’s main force?”

“As I stated earlier: tomorrow.”

“No, I’m not talking about the family army. I mean the Elder known as the Soaring Heaven High Sword.”

“Ah!”

“If not for his intervention, the Heavenly Demon Cult would have been at our walls a week ago. He is a truly exceptional man.”

Namgung Kyung had moved with incredible speed to save the Golden Sword Sect, but he had been heart-wrenchingly late. Choking back his grief, he had instead focused on gathering survivors and stragglers, buying precious time for unfortified sects to flee the cult’s path. He had harried the enemy so effectively that it was said the cult’s losses to Namgung Kyung’s guerrilla tactics were greater than what they suffered at the Golden Sword Sect.

“Perhaps that explains the leadership shuffle—a punishment for those who let him slip through.”

“It’s a possibility.”

Sanggwan Je nodded, seeing the logic.

“By the way, the Haohuo Clan’s arrival will be delayed slightly.”

“I expected as much, given the passing of their elder.”

Sanggwan Cheon spoke with empathy, though his disappointment was palpable.

“However, the Elder Poison Freak has taken command of the Tang family warriors and has already departed from the Haohuo Clan ahead of schedule.”

“Who…?”

“The Elder Poison Freak.”

“Wait, why is that old madman at the Haohuo Clan…? Oh, I see.”

Remembering the funeral of Haohuo Gok, Sanggwan Cheon’s face twisted into a sour grimace.

“Poison Freak is… a difficult addition.”

“Why so negative? Among the Three Freaks of the Martial World, his prowess is legendary. He is easily worth a entire regiment.”

“His skill is undeniable, but his personality and hygiene are equally legendary. That is the issue.”

“He teased you a bit when you were a disciple, but surely you aren’t holding a grudge after all these decades?”

“Teased? If you call what he did ‘teasing’…”

Sanggwan Cheon ground his teeth, clearly haunted by old memories.

“Regardless, he is coming to save us, so try to be a gracious host. Don’t go looking for a fight.”

“I’ll try, but that old man and I are like oil and water.”

“And there is one more detail to mention…”

Sanggwan Je hesitated, watching his brother’s face closely.

“What now? Just say it.”

“You aren’t going to be pleased.”

“I’ve already accepted that the Poison Freak is coming. What could be worse? Out with it.”

Sanggwan Je took a few steadying breaths before speaking with extreme caution.

“A man by the name of Sima Geon is also traveling toward the fortress.”

“Who?”

“Sima Geon.”

“Sima…? You mean the defector from the Heavenly Demon Cult?”

“The very same.”

“What business does he have here?”

“The exact reasons are unclear, but it’s likely related to avenging Elder Sword Freak. Furthermore, he was the one who exposed the Four Blood Forests incident I mentioned earlier.”

“Tell him to turn around and leave.”

“Brother!”

“I don’t care if he was friends with Sword Freak or what his motives are. Let him handle his own vendettas. He is not to involve himself in our defense.”

“Have you not heard the accounts? He is a master of incredible talent. He could potentially be a greater asset than even Elder Poison Freak…”

“That’s enough. I will not defend this home using the hands of a cultist. As the saying goes, a washed rag is still a rag. They are all cut from the same cloth. I would rather fall on my own blade than accept his assistance.”

Sanggwan Je could only let out a long sigh as Sanggwan Cheon turned his back, signaling that the conversation was over.

—

“Haa… Haa…”

He drew in ragged, painful breaths as he surveyed the carnage.

The outlook was catastrophic.

He had started this mission with a contingent of fifty warriors, but now only seven remained. They were huddled together in a desperate, final sword formation.

‘I allowed myself to become arrogant.’

Namgung Kyung bit down on his lip until it bled.

Ever since the Golden Sword Sect fell, he had been in a state of constant conflict with the Heavenly Demon Cult. These were mostly small-scale skirmishes, and he had won every single one without sustaining major damage. That had been his undoing. A string of easy victories had bred a silent complacency in his heart, leading him directly into this trap.

“At last, I’ve cornered the old fox of the Nangong Clan.”

Elder Yu Sobak of the Bright King Sect—the man assigned the task of eliminating Namgung Kyung—stepped forward with a predatory smile.

“I must admit, your persistence was impressive. I never imagined a single man could cause us such a headache.”

Yu Sobak looked around at the bodies of his own Bright King Sect warriors and sighed.

“What a waste. If we hadn’t been distracted by that other brat, we wouldn’t have lost so many good men.”

Namgung Kyung’s heart sank, knowing the “other brat” was his nephew, Namgung Po.

“Aaargh!”

Another scream echoed as one of his last men was cut down.

Namgung Kyung tightened his grip on his sword, his eyes darting for any possible opening to save his remaining followers. Yu Sobak gave a cold, mocking laugh.

“There is no way out. Not after the damage you’ve dealt us. I’m making sure none of you leave this clearing alive.”

Locking eyes with the elder, Yu Sobak roared to his men,

“End this! No more games—slaughter them all!”

Before the command had even fully left his lips, Namgung Kyung’s blade moved like a flash of lightning.

Yu Sobak reacted instantly, as if he had anticipated the move.

The force of the collision sent Namgung Kyung flying backward, but Yu Sobak didn’t look triumphant.

He had struggled even against Namgung Po. But seeing Namgung Kyung continue to fight after enduring a concentrated assault was something else entirely. The Elder’s wounds were deep, and his internal injuries were likely catastrophic. The fact that he could still stand, let alone swing a sword, was a testament to his incredible will.

But Namgung Kyung’s trajectory was strange.

Instead of fighting against the momentum of Yu Sobak’s strike, he used the force to pivot in mid-air, hurtling himself toward his cornered subordinates.

Several cultists moved to intercept him, but they were no match for his desperate, life-or-death strikes.

“I will open a path! Follow me!”

Namgung Kyung carved through the enemies strangling the formation, charging at the weakest link in the perimeter.

Feeling the presence of his loyal retainers behind him, he summoned every last drop of his remaining strength.

‘Just one strike.’

He gathered his shattered inner energy for one final, true technique. He knew he wouldn’t have a second chance.

A brilliant, blinding radiance erupted from his blood-soaked sword.

“Curses!”

Yu Sobak, who was closing the distance, let out a thunderous roar.

“Get out of the way!”

He wanted to order them to hold the line, but he knew his men couldn’t survive that strike. There was no point in throwing away lives; he believed escape was still impossible.

The ultimate technique of the Soaring Heaven High Sword Namgung Kyung tore through the encirclement with devastating power.

Despite Yu Sobak’s warning, nearly ten cultists were killed or maimed, paralyzed by the sheer pressure of the attack.

But that was the end of it.

Having poured his very soul into that final move, Namgung Kyung collapsed to the ground, his legs refusing to move. His remaining men were too weak to carry him away. The gap in the circle closed almost instantly, and Yu Sobak stepped toward the nearly unconscious Namgung Kyung with a look of cold, murderous intent.