Chapter 167

Chapter 167
## To Sichuan (1)

The passing of the Sword Phantom triggered a tectonic shift across the entire martial landscape.

Gwan Woong and the upper echelon of the Heavenly Demon Cult, who had conceded to the Sword Phantom’s mediation and retreated just as the Nangong Clan was within their grasp, initially dismissed the threat of the Blood Cult.

While it was verified that Blood Cult infiltrators were embedded in various locations—notably sabotaging the retrieval of Divine Demon Division assets and severing communication lines—the leadership did not view it as a primary danger to the Heavenly Demon Cult’s sovereignty.

However, a rigorous internal audit sparked a wave of terror. High-ranking individuals like the Undying Demon Physician Hwanoong, who had slipped away into the darkness, and Deputy Shadow Fragrance Leader Dam Ik, the architect of their intelligence network, were identified as Blood Cult moles along with several other pivotal administrators. The realization that someone of Hwanoong’s seniority was a plant suggested that the Blood Cult had been metastasizing within the demonic path for decades.

Gwan Woong, acutely aware of how the Blood Cult had ravaged the martial world a century and a half ago by slaughtering both orthodox and unorthodox warriors without bias, diverted his full strength toward purging the spies within the Heavenly Demon Cult and the broader demonic alliance.

For more than a year, they subjected captured infiltrators and their associates to brutal questioning, using extracted secrets to chain together further arrests. The official tally of executed moles exceeded one hundred, and when including those who had been compromised or offered secret support, the number reached nearly three hundred.

The process was far from peaceful.

The identification of these agents frequently sparked violent skirmishes, resulting in significant loss of life.

Furthermore, the insurrection that ignited within the Myriad Poison Valley proved to be a formidable challenge.

The revolt centered in the Myriad Poison Valley initially seemed destined for a quick end when the valley itself was suddenly vacated. However, the movement expanded unexpectedly due to the arrival of new power players. The Mad Buddhist, joining the fray late, had successfully recruited the sovereign power of Tianzhu, the Thunder Sound Temple.

The Thunder Sound Temple, which had long sought a foothold in the Central Plains, formally recognized the Mad Buddhist’s faction as an extension of their sect. They poured immense resources into the Return to Heaven insurgents, providing both bottomless coffers and elite martial forces.

The ongoing friction with the Southern Rivers martial arts community also weighed heavily on the Heavenly Demon Cult.

Following the Sword Phantom’s demise, they had ceased open warfare and pulled back, yet they refused to fully relinquish the Southern Rivers territories they had occupied.

Even while preoccupied with Blood Cult purges and the Return to Heaven rebels supported by the Thunder Sound Temple, they continued to erect sub-altars across the region, incrementally widening their influence. While full-scale war had ceased for a year, minor clashes remained a daily occurrence.

Internal discord was equally rampant within the Central Plains.

The Murim Alliance saw its prestige crumble after failing to provide an adequate defense against the Heavenly Demon Cult’s southern push. Furthermore, their sluggish and ineffective reaction to the Blood Cult threat cost them the loyalty of the various warlords, leaving the organization in a state of paralysis.

The situation worsened as vicious internal politics took hold. Factions began fighting over the empty seat of the Alliance Leader, throwing the entire structure into a state of lawlessness.

Seizing the moment, the Righteous Heaven Alliance—built around the foundation of the Young Tiger Clan—began to fill the power vacuum left by the Murim Alliance.

They offered comprehensive military aid to the beleaguered Southern Rivers sects facing the Heavenly Demon Cult. Regiments under the Righteous Heaven Alliance worked alongside local schools to flush out Blood Cult operatives. By successfully dismantling Blood Cult schemes across several provinces, they rose in just twelve months to become a legitimate rival to the Murim Alliance’s authority.

The coordinated efforts to cleanse the martial world of the Blood Cult, which began in the wake of the Sword Phantom’s death, were reaching their conclusion.

While the primary masterminds managed to evade capture, the prevailing opinion was that the cult’s operational capacity had been completely dismantled.

A few observers noted the disparity between the Heavenly Demon Cult’s execution of three hundred members and the combined hundred captured by the Murim and Righteous Heaven Alliances. However, as the Blood Cult once again faded into total obscurity, these concerns were largely ignored by the public.

With three months passing without a single Blood Cult sighting, the focus of the martial world returned to the Southern Rivers. The truce necessitated by the secret society was fraying, and the old grudges remained unresolved.

As the political climate between the Heavenly Demon Cult and the Southern Rivers grew increasingly volatile, Sima Geon and his companions continued their westward hunt for the Myriad Poison Valley. They eventually reached Yushu, located on the southern frontier of Qinghai Province, where the waters of the Tongtian River ran.

Five massive yaks were grazing quietly nearby.

After watching the beasts for a moment, So Surin walked over to Sima Geon and Cheol Woo, who were resting on a large stone.

“What’s the status?”

So Surin, bundled in thick layers of animal pelts, took the leather bottle from Cheol Woo’s hand as she spoke.

“Gah! That has a kick.”

The drink, made from fermented yak milk, possessed a dull scent and a gritty texture that made it unpalatable to most. Yet, its intense heat was the only thing capable of warding off the biting mountain air.

“Status? That moron is getting his ears boxed.”

Cheol Woo reclaimed the bottle and gestured toward Noe Jeon, who was currently being forced into a frantic retreat.

“Indeed. He’s being dominated today. He was holding his own just a short while ago.”

So Surin watched the duel between Noe Jeon and Manchu, her eyes widening in realization.

“His progress is terrifying.”

Gwa Yu offered a piece of dried meat to So Surin. He attempted to remain stoic, but a hint of jealousy flavored his words; his own growth had hit a plateau recently.

“Don’t let it get to you. You’re a talent in your own right. You’ll break through your current limits soon enough. Stay focused.”

“I understand.”

Though her face remained stoic, So Surin’s words of support gave Gwa Yu a visible boost in confidence.

“You idiot! You fell for it again. I warned you about dropping your guard!”

Cheol Woo shouted toward Manchu, who had moved in for a killing blow only to walk directly into a clever feint orchestrated by Noe Jeon.

“It wasn’t so much a lapse in concentration by Manchu as it was Noe Jeon’s tactical brilliance. The disparity in combat experience is still too great to overcome.”

Sima Geon, who had been analyzing the exchange, let out a low whistle as Manchu absorbed a hit, stabilized his stance, and launched an immediate riposte.

“He’s something else. It’s no wonder Senior Joo Yu-gal took an interest in him.”

“Yeah, the kid has genuine potential.”

Cheol Woo, having mentored Manchu, couldn’t deny the boy’s evolution.

The training session lasted for the duration of an incense stick before Noe Jeon finally secured the victory.

“Hah… I’m exhausted.”

Noe Jeon was soaked in perspiration, gasping for air as he reached for his water.

“You look pathetic.”

Cheol Woo teased him with a smirk.

Noe Jeon emptied his container in a few large gulps before sighing in relief.

“Manchu is becoming a monster. His improvement is relentless. He’s a different fighter than he was just last week. His movement is what gets me.”

Noe Jeon gestured toward Manchu, who was now laughing and talking with Gwa Yu.

“His Drunken Immortal Steps are becoming second nature. The way he wobbles looks chaotic, but it’s lightning-fast and the angles are impossible to predict. Even the Deputy Leader might have a hard time with him soon.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care how much he dances; one solid hit and he’s done.”

Cheol Woo snorted and brandished a heavy fist.

“If you say so.”

“Shut your mouth. You’re the one who almost lost to a kid.”

“Didn’t the Deputy Leader break a sweat against him the other day?”

“In your dreams!”

Cheol Woo lunged forward, catching the retreating Noe Jeon and giving him a playful but firm drubbing.

After reclaiming his dignity and taking another pull from the liquor bottle, Cheol Woo looked toward Sima Geon.

“So, are we sticking to the plan, Boss?”

“Yes. It’s time to turn back. We can’t keep drifting like this.”

Sima Geon looked out over the horizon, his eyes reflecting a complicated weight.

Following the confrontation at the Abyssal Sky Hall, the group had set their sights on the Myriad Poison Valley.

The journey to the Ten Myriad Mountains, the traditional seat of the Myriad Poison Valley, was an exhausting trek.

They had traveled for two months without pause.

However, their target remained elusive.

The Yin Demonic Nest, the faction at odds with the Heavenly Demon Cult, had already vacated the Myriad Poison Valley and gone into hiding.

Sima Geon’s team had been tailing the Yin Demonic Nest from the shadows while monitoring the war between the Return to Heaven rebels and the Heavenly Demon Cult. But eventually, the trail of the Yin Demonic Nest went cold.

It wasn’t just them—their primary targets, Ma Uk of the Crimson Flame Clan and the Left Sword Demon of the Phantom God Clan, had vanished without a trace.

Even the Heavenly Demon Cult’s trackers seemed unable to pin down their exact location.

Sima Geon refused to quit.

Convinced that such a large group must have left some sign, they kept a close watch on the Return to Heaven forces.

This led to several unintended run-ins with the Heavenly Demon Cult.

They crushed every patrol sent their way, until eventually—likely due to a command from the high priests—the Cultists began to actively avoid their path.

After observing the sectarian conflict for three months, they finally caught a break regarding their prey’s location.

Six months after finding that lead, they arrived in Yushu, only to find they were too late. A local elder informed them that a group matching the description of the Yin Demonic Nest had passed through that very spot eight months prior.

They were faced with a choice: follow a cold trail into the unknown or return to familiar ground.

Sima Geon chose the latter.

A year had passed since they began this hunt, and they could not justify wandering indefinitely based on old rumors. Furthermore, they had responsibilities to the brothers they had left behind.

“You aren’t abandoning the hunt, are you?”

So Surin asked, her voice tight with concern.

“Never. That man seized power, caused chaos, and then hid. This is calculated. He will reappear when the time is right to cause more destruction. We will be waiting for him then.”

“Understood.”

So Surin, whose hatred for the Yin Demonic Nest was visceral, accepted the decision. She knew their enemies wouldn’t stay hidden forever.

“Fine, then we head back. Manchu!”

Cheol Woo waved the boy over.

“Yes, big brother?”

“Think back to what I asked you previously.”

“The other day… ah, yes.”

Manchu’s eyes lit up with focus.

“The Boss has made the call. What’s our path home?”

“Sichuan is the only logical choice. We can catch the Yangtze there and move quickly. We could try following the Tongtian River, but it meanders too much; it would take forever.”

Even the “fast” route would take two months: trekking to Sichuan, taking a river barge down the Yangtze, and then traveling south toward Shao Xing.

“If we go through Sichuan, we could stop by the Tang Clan.”

So Surin suggested the idea casually, though she kept an eye on Manchu.

“Let me check.”

Manchu pulled a weathered, hand-drawn map from his tunic.

The proportions were rough and the ink was faded, but the landmarks were clear.

“We are currently here in Yushu. The most direct route is to cross into Sichuan, head south along the Dadu River, and then hit the Yangtze. But a small detour to Chengdu is feasible. We can take the Min River from Chengdu and it will merge with the Yangtze regardless.”

So Surin looked pleased and turned to Sima Geon.

“It’s on our way. Can we visit the Tang Clan? I have some questions for the patriarch.”

“I don’t see why not.”

Sima Geon agreed without hesitation.

“Wait, hold on a second!”

Noe Jeon, who had been eavesdropping, jumped into the conversation.

“Through Sichuan?”

“That’s the plan.”

“But Sichuan means…”

Noe Jeon looked toward the southeast with a look of dread.

“We have to climb over that again?”

Noe Jeon pointed toward the massive, jagged peaks dominating the skyline. The realization hit the rest of the group like a physical blow: they were looking at the Pa-yan-kara Mountains, the brutal high-altitude gateway between Qinghai and Sichuan. Their faces collectively paled.