Chapter 102

Chapter 102
Chapter 102

Chapter 102 – Blood-Eyed Net

During his past life, amidst the savage heretics he fought throughout the Heretic War, this particular adversary stood out for his immense power and the lasting terror he left behind.

“The Blood Cult, hailing from the sixth diocese without a doubt.”

His thoughts raced instantly, processing every variable at a relentless pace.

According to his vague memories, that scoundrel had already surpassed one hundred and fifty years of age during the peak of the Heretic War.

That meant, at the current point in timeline, the monster was already well over a century old.

“Going head-to-head with raw force… winning is completely out of the question.”

In a direct one-on-one duel, victory was an absolute impossibility.

Had he been granted just five additional years to grow, the outcome might have differed, but right now, it was entirely unfeasible.

Unless Sword Energy could serve as his ultimate trump card.

However, he saw no reason to take such a reckless gamble and expose himself to unnecessary perils.

“Brother. Those demonic wretches have revealed themselves—what should our course of action be?”

Chui-dal stepped forward as their spokesperson, though the entire group wore matching expressions of profound curiosity.

“What do you suppose we do? We observe for the time being.”

“Why the gloomy expression?”

“I assumed the foremost genius and strategist of our generation would have some magnificent, foolproof scheme ready.”

Having boasted so extensively in the past, he found himself momentarily speechless.

“Nevertheless, it’s not as though I’m entirely without a plan.”

Whether he could put it into execution would hinge entirely on how the situation developed.

Right at that instant.

Even from more than a hundred zhang away, a wave of palpable, sinister pressure drifted toward them like ripples across a pond.

“Ugh.”

“What a sickening aura.”

“Damnable demons!”

As his companions winced simultaneously, Blood-Eyed Net finally made his move.

“Pitiful souls who have yet to attain awakening.”

Every single syllable uttered by Blood-Eyed Net carried a dense, heavy layer of demonic qi so vicious it felt like venom.

It was the reverse-heaven energy revered by the Blood Cult as sacred “blood qi”—harvested forcibly from living mortals and steeped in boundless resentment and malice.

“I shall bestow upon you a merciful privilege. The chance to merge completely with the divine will of the holy Blood God.”

Ultimately, the grand offer amounted to nothing more than surrendering their bodies as sacrifices.

“Does anyone actually expect us to fall for such drivel, you wretched demon?”

The one who stepped out of the ranks to raise his voice was Hyun-hyeon of the Wudang Sect.

He would eventually grow into the greatest swordsman of Wudang, a prodigy of martial arts, though he was as plagued by misfortune as he was blessed with talent.

“Yet at this stage, he is barely a match for me at best. Where does he find the audacity?”

True to his thought, Hyun-hyeon could not withstand even a single flick of Blood-Eyed Net’s finger.

He managed to deflect the darting demonic qi flying off a fingertip with his sword, but the impact sent him stumbling back five or six heavy steps, sheer dismay washing over his features.

That fellow Hyun-hyeon had been utterly immature at this age, hadn’t he?

Strutting out with such misplaced confidence only to get flattened in a single exchange dealt a massive blow to everyone’s morale, you absolute fool.

“Every encounter marks the inception of destiny. Even if it culminates in our mutual destruction, we ought to exchange names first, shouldn’t we?”

Stepping forward to take Hyun-hyeon’s place was Cheong-so, an elder of Wudang.

“This old man is known as Cheong-so. And who might you be?”

The corners of Blood-Eyed Net’s mouth pulled upward into a grin, exposing teeth unnaturally sharp for a human.

They had clearly been filed and honed down deliberately into jagged fangs.

“Blood-Eyed Net. The inescapable snare of blood that shall consume every last one of you.”

“I see. This one hails from the Wudang Sect. And what is your origin, Blood-Eyed Net?”

“As if an ignorant fool like you would comprehend.”

Cheong-so’s expression turned rigid at the blatant insolence.

Blood-Eyed Net pressed on regardless.

“You look neither fatigued nor starved. Your preparations as sacrificial offerings are utterly lacking.”

“I shall atone for this oversight with my life, Lord Diocese!”

Disregarding the Protection Captain who drove his forehead directly into the stone floor, Blood-Eyed Net stretched out his blood-stained claws toward all directions.

“No matter. Fresh meat tastes best when it is raw and still writhing anyway. Ignorant cattle, offer your flesh and blood to our great enterprise.”

Blood-Eyed Net’s index finger elongated grotesquely, plunging straight through the chest of the nearest warrior.

He relished the frantic, fluttering pulses for a brief moment before artfully utilizing the claw qi coating his nail to yank the victim’s body directly toward his face.

Then came the sound.

Kwachik!

After ripping out the heart, he tore viciously into the throat. The warrior’s corpse spasmed violently, while Blood-Eyed Net, his lower jaw dripping with fresh gore, emitted a low groan brimming with intense ecstasy.

“Haaaah. This is the flavor. Exactly this flavor.”

At that precise moment, Yang-hui’s razor-sharp qi senses detected the lingering soul trapped within the blood qi wrapping around Blood-Eyed Net’s attack.

“Now, it begins.”

The half-human, half-corpse abominations clustered around Blood-Eyed Net responded to his killing intent and surged forward in a feral frenzy.

In his past life, those half-corpses had served as the frontline vanguard of the Blood Cult’s sixth diocese.

“They refuse to stay down unless you lop off their heads—such an absolute nuisance.”

“Kraaaah!”

“Th-these monsters! They won’t drop!”

“Target their vital points!”

“Kuh, hack!”

“Jiangshi! They’re actual jiangshi!”

Following a brief wave of panic, the warriors finally caught onto the method for neutralizing the half-corpses.

“Sever their necks!”

“Once the head is detached, they halt!”

Yet, did they truly understand?

The genuine terror of any diocese rested entirely in the hands of its lord.

At this rate, victory was an impossible dream.

Should he descend into the fray right now and leverage his Sword Energy?

No. It was still unfeasible.

For the present Yang-hui, hiding away and assessing the situation remained his only viable path.

“Damn it all. I hate the thought of leaving that bastard behind and retreating.”

This was the very target he had journeyed all this way to eliminate, a man practically begging for execution.

He desperately wanted to grant him the exact same end with his own hands as he had in his former life.

It was right then.

Dokun!

A strange vibration echoed.

It originated not from his physical heart, but deep within his dantian.

“The Sword Core… it’s summoning me.”

Yang-hui was never one to lean blindly on hunches; he trusted his intellect above all else.

Yet right now, mirroring an occurrence from a few years prior, a piercingly clear intuition hammered at his consciousness.

“No, experiencing it a second time makes it clear. It’s not a mere hunch. It’s a physical pull.”

“We are moving.”

“To where, Brother Hui?”

“We separate here.”

“Little Brother, for what reason?”

“We need to excavate the pathway blocked by the landslide so the fighters can secure a route out. Furthermore, we must complete our reconnaissance of the Sword King’s Mausoleum.”

He turned his gaze toward A-du.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re eager to slaughter that demonic scum, aren’t you?”

“Indeed! Guide them toward true enlightenment!”

“Very well. Then let’s begin by clearing the debris. Chui-dal, take him with you.”

He dispatched Chui-dal and A-du toward the western corridor alongside the Iron Poison Fluttering Wings.

Clearing away the compacted dirt blocking the gateway would demand time, but it had to be accomplished.

“Regardless of who triumphs in the end, they will attempt to force their way through this passage to escape the Eastern Blood Hall.”

What if, by some miraculous stroke of fortune, the orthodox warriors managed to annihilate every single Blood Cultist?

In that scenario, all issues were instantly resolved.

He would simply need to hasten his steps and secure the Sword King’s treasures.

However, that outcome was highly improbable.

A more realistic expectation was that the Blood Cultists would butcher the warriors inside the Eastern Blood Hall.

Even in that grim eventuality, they would require an exit route.

“The diocese lord might survive, but his subordinates cannot haul every single warrior corpse up the sheer cliff face.”

Consequently, the lord would focus on breaking through the passage to reach the terminal chambers of the Sword King’s Mausoleum.

After all, the bounty notice he had circulated via the Hao Clan explicitly mentioned not just the entrance, but the presence of an alternative exit as well.

Though the precise coordinates remained unconfirmed, it was designated as a waterway, making it highly probable.

An exit had to exist somewhere near the Baeksu River, which cascaded from the steepest gorge of Baeksu Mountain down toward the foothills.

In short, if his intuition-guided strategy played out successfully.

He would be able to forge yet another killing field.

A slaughterhouse where he retained absolute control over the initiative.

“Sister Dang. Hand over the antidote.”

“To safely traverse the Poison Hall?”

“Yes. I’ll go alone.”

Gu-ak stepped forward to interject.

“Little Brother. It’s too perilous. If someone must venture ahead independently, it ought to be me.”

“There’s no need. What explanation would I give Lady Rang if something befell you? Brother Gu, remain here with Brother Dang and Sister Dang, monitor the Eastern Blood Hall, and search for alternative routes.”

With those words, Yang-hui snorted softly and vaulted away.

Gu-ak tracked his departure with his eyes for a quiet moment.

He often appeared reckless, dumping all the troublesome tasks onto others, but whenever genuine danger presented itself, he shouldered the burden entirely on his own.

That was precisely why Gu-ak could never genuinely harbor hatred toward Yang-hui.

“Shall we shift our position as well, Young Lord?”

“I have already located an alternative shaft leading downward, so let’s verify whether it can function as an escape route for the fighters.”

“We must act swiftly. To preserve as many lives as possible.”

For the moment, keeping tabs on the unfolding situation fell naturally to Dang Yeon-ja.

She peered out just far enough to observe the battle raging below without missing a single detail.

“Thank goodness Wudang is present—otherwise, this would have devolved into a completely one-sided massacre.”

Setting aside the sect’s secular leanings, Wudang’s internal energy remained pristine and refined, imbued with sword haze that manifested true orthodox majesty.

In essence, it served as a natural counter to demonic arts.

Thanks to this advantage, the fighters within the Eastern Blood Hall were holding out far better than anticipated.

At least the orthodox faction was.

“Kraaaah!”

“P-please! Spare my life!”

“How could you do this to fellow unorthodox practitioners? Have mercy, I—Kraaak!”

The Protection Captain snagged an unorthodox warrior by the head using his bizarre, limb-like arm and sheared it clean off with a cold sneer.

“Fellow unorthodox, you say? You insult us by comparison. I heard garbage, so I need to rinse my ears out with blood.”

It was right at that juncture.

Kwaaaang!

Dang Yeon-ja’s eyes flew wide open like a startled rabbit’s at the blinding golden radiance erupting from the southern wing of the Eastern Blood Hall.

“Ha-has the rubble been cleared already?”

No, “blown apart” was a far more accurate description.

Massive chunks of earth were still hurtling through the air.

Simultaneously, she noted an unmistakable reaction.

Every single demonic wretch inside the Eastern Blood Hall whipped their heads toward the golden illumination, their faces twisted in overwhelming revulsion.

“As expected of Shaolin. They operate on an entirely different tier compared to Wudang.”

Every single ultimate technique mastered by Shaolin possessed the intrinsic power to subdue demons and banish evil.

That very characteristic appeared to violently provoke the demonic entities.

“The passage!”

“Everyone, flee in that direction!”

The assembled fighters rushed toward the opening en masse, pursued closely by the howling Blood Cultists.

“After them!”

“Fortunate timing—the passageway is unblocked! Pursue them relentlessly until they hit a dead end, then trap and devour the lot of them!”

“Find whoever is radiating that golden light and bring me his limbs.”

“Understood!”

Perched high upon the ceiling, Dang Yeon-ja unconsciously wore a deeply troubled frown.

“Those monks… moving far too quickly…”

This development was undoubtedly unfolding much sooner than even Yang-hui had foreseen.

Dang Yeon-ja tensed slightly, swallowing hard against her rising anxiety.

Then, she pressed her palms together in a silent prayer.

Hoping that everything would proceed precisely according to the clever plan laid out by her young Baek Clan brother.

○○○○○○

“Huuu,”

He exhaled slowly to steady and relax his physical form.

Glancing ahead, he surveyed a corridor teeming with all manner of crawling vermin.

“Tch. Even running at maximum velocity, it’s going to take dozens of chambers to cross.”

Though he had ingested the antidote and applied it topically, there were hard limits to its protection.

Resisting the pervasive poison qi required him to continuously circulate his own internal energy, meaning he would need downtime afterward to recover.

“That’s a luxury I cannot afford.”

The antidote served merely as an insurance policy.

Yang-hui possessed one foolproof method to blitz straight through the Poison Hall.

Dokun!

The Sword Core throbbed once more. He pressed a palm against his lower dantian, his gaze hardening resolutely.

“I will be there shortly. So stop your pulsing.”

With that, he lunged forward.

Phantom Thousand Steps, swift, swift, swift, swift!

Eight complete layers of inner power poured directly into his legs to fuel the Phantom Thousand Steps technique.

Yang-hui’s silhouette pierced through the Poison Hall at a blinding, breathtaking velocity.

Naturally, with the air thick with countless venoms, it was akin to charging headfirst into a nest of vipers…

“Poison or not, if they don’t dare sink their fangs into me, that settles it.”

His acute intuition highlighted a singular realization.

The Iron Poison Fluttering Wings of the first hall.

The pest-infested corridors of the second.

“A Sword King’s tomb filled with nothing but deadly poisons has felt suspicious from the very beginning.”

When selecting an ultimate successor, the setup left behind by the Greatest Under Heaven was far too aggressively lethal.

Basic logic dictated that anyone wishing to pass down their martial arts would ensure young, promising talents remained unharmed during the process.

Consequently, the layout and trials of the Sword King’s Mausoleum ought to test pure martial capability.

Neither the initial hall nor the second aligned with a master’s design for training an apprentice.

Instead.

“It feels far more akin to a mechanism meant to trap intruders and keep people out. With the sole exception of one specific individual.”

Sting!

“Ack!”

Distracted by his train of thought, a venomous pest managed to latch onto his ankle and bite him.

It appeared he would need to clear out the swarming bugs and serpents first.

Bwoooong!

Yang-hui’s sword began to emit a low, resonant hum.

It was precisely at that moment.