Chapter 185

Chapter 185
## Chapter 185: The Homecoming (1)

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At the base of the Qilian Mountains within the borders of Gansu Province sat the Golden Buddha Temple.

No other sanctuary within a thousand li could rival its massive proportions, and its position along the ancient arteries connecting the Orient and Occident had attracted travelers for centuries. It was particularly famous as the final necessary sanctuary for trade fleets preparing to cross the desolate wastes.

Seventy-two hours ago, shrouded by an exceptionally violent gale of sand, a cohort of combatants descended upon the Golden Buddha Temple.

Despite the rumors that this temple was a sister branch of the Shaolin Temple with martial skills to match, the defenses shattered in less than an hour.

What followed was a gruesome slaughter.

The monks were wiped out, leaving behind only the frailest elders, a handful of scholars who possessed no internal power, and the youngest disciples.

“Honestly, how difficult is it to just provide a roof over someone’s head?”

Eum Jeokso spat a half-chewed hunk of gristle onto the ground as he sat before the central pavilion, his mind drifting back to the events of three days prior.

“Why is this meat so tough? Are you even capable of roasting it properly?”

At Eum Jeokso’s barked reprimand, the subordinate tending the fire bowed his head in a frantic motion.

“M-my apologies! I will prepare a better cut immediately.”

“Don’t bother.”

Eum Jeokso dismissed him with a sharp wave and snatched up a ceramic jug of spirits.

“Lord, even the alcohol in this place is as weak as water.”

He drained the vessel in a single breath and سپس smashed it against the stones with a dark expression.

The sharp ring of breaking glass caused the group of men lounging around the camp to freeze in their tracks.

A heavy silence lingered briefly, but when Eum Jeokso didn’t follow up with more anger, they returned to their boisterous drinking and crude jokes.

“My, my, what has put our Palace Lord in such a foul mood today?”

“Indeed. This vintage seems perfectly fine to me. To be honest, that last batch we had was far too abrasive. You need a bit of fragrance and a smooth finish—it shouldn’t feel like you’re swallowing a lit torch.”

Jwa Geom and Ma Uk, lounging at Eum Jeokso’s sides while tipping their own cups, shared a laugh.

Their mockery earned them piercing looks from the surrounding warriors, but no one dared to voice a complaint. Such familiarity had already been permitted, and provoking their temper was a recipe for disaster.

“Moving on, shouldn’t they be pulling in right about now?”

Jwa Geom’s question prompted Ma Uk to finish his mouthful of meat before answering.

“We provided an armed escort, and judging by the last bird we got, they should be here. But the man isn’t exactly in peak condition for a trek.”

“Very true. Quite a character, isn’t he? He could have remained in hiding, yet he dragged that shattered frame all the way across the province.”

“He must be starving to see what kind of fruit we’ve grown.”

“Ha ha ha! After all the blood we’ve spilled, even taking his head wouldn’t feel like enough payment. But since we’ve reached these heights thanks to his guidance, we have to let it slide.”

“I’m of the same mind, brother. Honestly, he should have stayed in his hole instead of trying to keep up.”

Eum Jeokso watched their pathetic banter with a look of pure contempt before finally intervening.

“Shut your mouths. You two ought to be bowing at his feet in thanks. He took absolute nobodies like you and forged you into what you are today.”

“Who’s saying otherwise? We’re just talking.”

“Yes, our Palace Lord is certainly on edge today.”

Jwa Geom and Ma Uk continued to toss out comments that chipped away at their leader’s dignity, but Eum Jeokso didn’t seem to mind. He even let out a small chuckle of his own. Only the lower-ranking soldiers looked on with glints of irritation.

Suddenly, a scout came sprinting toward them.

Before the man could even drop to one knee, Eum Jeokso spoke.

“Is he here?”

“Y-yes? Oh, he just arrived at the gates.”

“Bring him to me at once.”

The scout hurried off without finishing his formal report.

A few minutes later, Jong Yo appeared, limping toward the front of the main pavilion. He was being held up by two men, his movements showing extreme exhaustion.

The moment he saw Eum Jeokso, Jong Yo attempted to prostrate himself.

“Strategist Jong Yo offers his greetings to the Palace Lord.”

With a subtle flick of Eum Jeokso’s wrist, a gust of internal energy forced Jong Yo back to his feet.

“Don’t strain yourself when your vitality is this low. You clearly had a grueling journey to get here.”

“It was nothing. I traveled here fueled by a joy I couldn’t contain.”

“And what is your assessment?”

At Eum Jeokso’s inquiry, Jong Yo turned his head to survey the scene.

The mess of the drinking party had been cleared away, and a look of immense pride washed over Jong Yo’s face as he observed the rows of lethal warriors standing at attention on either side.

“I am deeply impressed. I never doubted that the Sect Leader—rather, the Palace Lord—would triumph.”

“I’m glad you’re pleased; it validates the effort. Though, I’ll admit, it wasn’t as simple as I anticipated.”

Eum Jeokso looked toward the senior officers of the Iron Blood Palace standing in rigid formation.

“Every day felt like balancing on the edge of a blade. Even though I possessed the Iron Blood Demon Lord’s techniques and the sacred relics, they refused to recognize my authority at first. They offered empty words of loyalty, but killers crept into my room every night, and some even had the nerve to challenge me in the open. It was a massive headache.”

None of the officers looked shocked by this revelation. A few even nodded, as if such a trial was the only proper way to lead.

“I suspected as much. The Iron Blood Palace I am familiar with is a realm where survival is dictated solely by power—not titles, but raw ability. I knew that even the legacies of the Demon Lord wouldn’t buy you easy submission. Naturally, I had faith you would crush any dissent.”

“I have this iron-clad body, after all. And I had these men.”

Jong Yo took a moment to look at the Poison Blood Demon standing motionless in the shadows before Eum Jeokso continued.

“I survived, but my companions went through hell.”

Jong Yo shifted his gaze to Jwa Geom and Ma Uk, who offered predatory smiles.

In a little over a year, their metamorphosis was staggering.

It wasn’t merely their facial expressions—numerous jagged scars were visible beneath their messy attire.

They carried themselves with an air of nonchalance, but their eyes were like chips of ice, and their internal pressure had shifted completely.

A suffocating aura radiated from them, a palpable killing intent that made the skin crawl.

“They’ve evolved, haven’t they?”

“They have.”

“Their prowess isn’t even in the same realm as before.”

“In a place like that, if you don’t change, you simply cease to exist.”

“Careful, Strategist. That sounds a bit too cold. You make it sound like it was easy for us.”

Jwa Geom bared his teeth in a chilling grin.

“To be blunt, you tossed us straight into a pit of monsters. The Palace Lord handled it, but we…”

Ma Uk stopped speaking, his throat tightening as he remembered the dozens of times he had nearly lost his life in a single day.

Jong Yo was unmoved by their intensity, responding with a cool, detached tone.

“How could we hope to plot against the Heavenly Demon Cult without that kind of iron resolve?”

Silenced by Jong Yo’s sharp logic, Jwa Geom and Ma Uk found themselves without a comeback.

Eum Jeokso gave a short laugh and dismissed their frustration with a wave.

“That’s enough talk. It’s time for a formal introduction.”

Standing next to Jong Yo, Eum Jeokso presented him to the gathered elite of the Iron Blood Palace.

“This is the individual who will serve as the Grand Strategist of the Iron Blood Palace from this moment forward.”

Jong Yo gave a shallow, expressionless bow.

“I am Jong Yo.”

Eum Jeokso smiled, pleased that Jong Yo didn’t flinch even as the murderous auras of the leaders surged toward him.

The Iron Blood Palace officers looked at their new strategist with intense curiosity, but Eum Jeokso quickly ended the gathering for Jong Yo’s benefit, leading him to his private chambers to rest after the long trip.

“I heard you managed to betray the Huicheon group and make a break for it, but what’s the word on the ground? Is the Blood Slaughter Faction Leader doing alright?”

Eum Jeokso poured a cup of tea for Jong Yo, who had no taste for alcohol.

“They are currently concealed within the northwestern peaks of Sichuan. They can’t risk being spotted by Huicheon, and they certainly can’t alert the Tang Clan. The Blood Slaughter Faction Leader is in good health.”

“That’s a relief.”

“But is it truly safe? Sichuan is thick with the Tang Clan’s informants.”

Jong Yo shook his head at Jwa Geom’s worried remark.

“It’s manageable. Huicheon suffered massive casualties in that engagement, and the chaos at the Demon Buddha Temple will keep their attention divided.”

“The Demon Buddha Temple?”

“While Huicheon was focused on the Emei Sect, the Demon Buddha Temple attempted a pincer move against the Tang Clan with the support of the Thunder Sound Temple. It was a solid strategy—the Tang Clan had diverted their main forces to assist Emei. However, the Sword Marquess arrived for a challenge against the Poison Lord. Additionally, the Divine Demon Division Leader’s unit was transitioning through the area.”

Eum Jeokso’s eyes turned cold at the mention of the Divine Demon Division Leader—a flash of his old self that hadn’t appeared since he took the throne. Jwa Geom and Ma Uk also stiffened.

“They hunted me relentlessly to pull me back, but it seems they had to turn around.”

“Yes.”

Jwa Geom and Ma Uk watched Eum Jeokso’s reaction before adding their thoughts.

“The Demon Buddha Temple had terrible luck. Running into both the Sword Marquess and the Divine Demon Division Leader.”

“Still, the Thunder Sound Temple must have put up a decent fight, right?”

Jong Yo shook his head slowly.

“I don’t have the full report on the carnage. But I know this: not a single fighter from the Thunder Sound Temple or the Demon Buddha Temple who marched on the Tang Clan made it back alive.”

“Well, that’s a stroke of luck for us. I’m just glad our people are safe. So, why did you push yourself to come here? We would have sent for you eventually.”

Jong Yo’s expression turned solemn at Ma Uk’s question.

“As your Strategist, it was vital that I personally assess the Iron Blood Palace’s hierarchy, its soldiers, their psychological makeup, and the full extent of their power as soon as possible.”

“In that case, let’s talk about the Iron Blood Palace. It is fundamentally different from any sect we’ve known.”

Eum Jeokso’s murderous gaze had vanished, replaced by his usual calm.

“I am ready to listen.”

Jong Yo sat up straighter.

“My first shock upon arriving was the sheer scale of the place—it far exceeded my data. I expected the kings of the Great Desert to have a fortress, but it was practically a mid-sized city.”

“I see.”

“The second shock was the absence of a singular Palace Lord.”

“I was aware of that. Since the Iron Blood Demon Lord vanished, a circle of elders has been managing the affairs.”

“Exactly, the Elder Council—nine seats in total. What’s fascinating is that even within that circle, power is determined by martial rank. The head of the council essentially holds the Palace Lord’s scepter. But that system creates constant, violent internal wars for those seats. Then, I arrived: someone who could theoretically bypass the council entirely.”

“The successor to the Iron Blood Demon Lord, the very root of the Iron Blood Palace. It’s only logical.”

“Right. But as I mentioned, it was a bloodbath. Being the heir and having the relics are just tokens. Without a display of absolute strength, they had no intention of bending the knee. Instead, they tried to kill me to take what I had.”

Eum Jeokso shook his head, remembering the endless cycle of combat.

“It took six months of constant fighting to bring them to heel. Honestly, without the Poison Blood Demon, I wouldn’t have made it. But mastering the Iron Blood Demon Lord’s secret arts was the ultimate turning point.”

Jong Yo’s eyes flashed with interest at the news of Eum Jeokso’s mastery.

To have survived the Immortal Poison Subjugation Technique without prior foundation was already a miracle. With the addition of the Demon Lord’s heritage, his dominance over a culture obsessed with strength was a foregone conclusion.

The detailed report on the internal workings of the Iron Blood Palace continued for a long while.

“…At any rate, I judged that our foundation was secure, so we began our march.”

As he finished, Eum Jeokso locked eyes with Jong Yo.

“So, tell me. What is our next objective?”

“What is it that you truly want?”

“The total collapse of the Heavenly Demon Cult, and justice for what happened to my sister.”

“Is that the limit of your ambition?”

Jong Yo asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice. Eum Jeokso gave a knowing smile.

“Hardly. Those are just my personal debts. But I am no longer standing alone.”

Eum Jeokso squared his shoulders with an air of absolute authority.

“I am the Palace Lord of the Iron Blood Palace.”