Chapter 109

Chapter 109
Chapter 109

“Gaaahhh!”

“Young Clan Leader! Pull yourself together!”

“Disciples, form the sword formation and strike down the Namgung Young Clan Leader!”

“What are you even thinking, drawing your weapon against our clan’s Young Clan Leader—gaaahhh!”

Pure chaos consumed the area. It had transformed into a genuine slaughterhouse.

Silently, Yang-hui stepped back and hoisted Adu into his arms.

“Adu.”

“Ugh… it hurts so much.”

“Get a grip. You can halt your internal qi circulation midway through, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Then do it right now. Prepare to move the instant I give the signal.”

“Got it.”

The injuries sustained from his life-or-death struggle against Blood-eye Ra cut deep.

He needed to salvage as much stamina as possible to handle any unforeseen complications.

‘They’re managing to put up a decent fight.’

Namgung Cheon-hu went on a frenzied rampage, butchering everyone in his path—with the vast majority of his casualties being his own Namgung kinsmen.

While the Wudang disciples quickly established a defensive sword formation, the Namgung faction lacked leadership and failed to organize a counter-measure.

‘This feels a bit messy… but I offered a warning. I’ve fulfilled my obligation.’

His cold, piercing gaze locked onto Namgung Cheon-hu.

Yang-hui had no intention of intervening until that fool had thoroughly disgraced the family name.

“Sever the Namgung Young Clan Leader’s forearm! We have to force him to drop that demonic blade!”

“Stop this madness! Are you completely indifferent to the consequences?”

“What choice do we have? He has completely lost his mind!”

“Subdue him! Just focus on subduing him!”

“Then deal with the mess yourselves within the Namgung Clan! Wudang is pulling out!”

He observed the unfolding disaster with an air of complete detachment.

As the tension eased slightly, his mind expanded, and a lingering question he had previously pushed aside floated back to the surface.

‘Come to think of it… why was that sword even here?’

The Blood God Demonic Sword—the sacred artifact of the Blood Cult and the personal armament of its supreme leader.

He recognized it instantly for one simple reason: during his past life, amidst the catastrophic invasion of the Demonic Cult, he had witnessed it directly in the hands of the Blood Cult leader.

In other words, somewhere in the future, that blade was destined to fall into the cult’s possession.

‘Yet it was the Namgung Clan who unearthed the Sword King’s Tomb.’

Unlike the present timeline, in his previous life the Namgung Clan had excavated the site in absolute secrecy, leaving zero opportunity for Blood Cult interference.

And yet, the Blood God Demonic Sword had somehow still found its way to the cult leader.

Yang-hui’s eyes narrowed further, glinting with sharp insight.

‘It appears… an unexpected variable is about to emerge.’

An entirely unforeseen windfall.

Should his deductions prove correct, he stood to reap the rewards of a fisherman profiting while others fought.

‘First, however… I need to figure out what to do with the Blood God Demonic Sword.’

A sword’s true nature—whether divine or demonic—depended entirely on the character of its wielder.

To Yang-hui, whose core burned with righteous energy, the wicked blade that corrupted minds and drove men into madness was little more than an exceptionally sharp tool.

In short, it was far too valuable to surrender to either Wudang or Namgung.

‘The complication is that they’ve all witnessed it now. I can’t just pocket it openly.’

There was no helping it. He would have to leave the Blood God Demonic Sword behind.

Instead, he would focus on securing a different, tangible profit.

“Adu. Are you ready to move yet?”

“…Yeah.”

He glanced toward the golden vessel resting in the back.

Judging by its massive proportions, it had to contain at least ten thousand taels of gold.

A hundred ingots alone could purchase an upscale tavern outright—equivalent to a hundred lucrative business ventures!

“Heh heh heh. Heh heh heh heh!”

“Yang-hui, why are you laughing like that?”

“Because if we manage to grab that thing, we can buy a million rice cakes.”

“A—a million?!”

Adu jerked upward in astonishment.

“That’s right. Pretty massive haul, isn’t it?”

“Just how much is a million?”

Honestly, just how high could this child count?

“Ten thousand multiplied by one hundred and eight.”

“Oh!”

Apparently, her counting abilities maxed out at ten thousand.

A clever little companion, wasn’t she?

Prompted by that thought, he walked straight toward the golden urn.

It appeared anchored to the wall, but a solid heave ought to break it free.

“Hup!”

To his pleasant surprise, it shook loose with minimal resistance.

Yet something strange occurred: the moment he yanked it away, the surrounding earthen wall fractured, exposing a wide opening.

‘What? Another trap mechanism…? No way—could it be a hidden cache!?’

He peered inside, only to experience immediate disappointment.

A narrow tunnel stretched into the darkness, but not a single piece of treasure was visible, no matter how hard he strained his eyes.

‘Must be the secondary exit marked on the map. Oh well.’

He abandoned the thought and spun around.

With only three surviving members of the Heavenly Sword Unit remaining, there were more than enough witnesses present—it was time to subdue Namgung Cheon-hu.

As for those Wudang hypocrites… that elder is a deeply cunning fox.’

The Sweeping Elder was a peak-realm master. Coupled with dozens of disciples capable of executing a coordinated sword formation, even a fellow peak expert like Namgung Cheon-hu, possessed and driven wild by the Blood God Demonic Sword, could have been easily suppressed.

Instead, they chose a defensive posture, watching idly as the men of the Heavenly Sword Unit were slaughtered.

Rather than sacrificing their own disciples for the sake of righteousness, they stood back while the warriors of a rival sect perished.

‘They charted their own course. Cripple a competing sword sect and reap a double reward.’

“Adu. How is your condition now?”

“Yeah. Much better.”

“Good. Time to make our move. Do you see that guy losing his mind over there?”

“Yeah. Bad guy.”

“Let’s take him down together. But remember—no killing.”

“Not sending him to hell?”

“Exactly. Subdue him with minimal injury and simply secure the sword.”

Seizing the precise window of opportunity, he synchronized his movements with Adu and unleashed their techniques simultaneously.

“Hundred Steps Divine Fist!”

The golden surge of fist qi cleaved through the atmosphere and slammed directly into Namgung Cheon-hu.

Simultaneously, Yang-hui darted forward, striking a precise pressure point at the crook of his elbow.

Power instantly drained from Namgung Cheon-hu’s fingers upon the impact, and the Blood God Demonic Sword clattered loudly against the stone floor.

“Whew. That was barely enough to stop him.”

“I’m telling you, tangling with that demonic lunatic took a serious toll on me. Urk—coughing up blood…!”

He clutched his mouth and forced out a mouthful of blood. Having already swallowed some accumulated in his throat earlier, putting on a convincing act was effortless.

“Anyway. It appears my warning was entirely accurate. Pick up that sword, and you immediately morph into a raving demon. Feel free to test it out yourselves, Wudang folks.”

“…No need for that.”

The Sweeping Elder let out a heavy sigh, his gaze fixed on Yang-hui.

“After watching a Namgung warrior test its properties firsthand, we have no desire to repeat the mistake. Step back, young hero.”

His words sounded polite, yet he showed no intention of abandoning the Blood God Demonic Sword.

He was likely planning to wrap it safely inside a cloth bundle or scabbard without direct physical contact and transport it back to Wudang.

It made logical sense—after suffering such heavy losses, their leadership required something substantial to save face.

‘Sigh. Are we really handing it over? Getting into an open clash with Wudang right now is premature.’

He flicked his gaze toward Hyun-hyeon.

Wudang’s premier swordsman of the future, and their greatest prodigy of the present.

‘I genuinely hoped Namgung Cheon-hu would finish him off.’

If that had happened, the entire dynamic would have shifted dramatically.

Hyun-hyeon held immense institutional value to Wudang. His death would have forced an immediate, drastic shift in their posture.

‘Whatever. Dwelling on missed opportunities is a fool’s errand.’

Regrettable as it was, the Blood God Demonic Sword was effectively out of reach.

With that conclusion, he took a step backward.

“Take it.”

That exact fraction of a second changed everything.

Rumble!

“…Rumble?”

Ruuuuumble!

Adu chirped brightly.

“That’s the sound your tummy makes when it hurts!”

True enough. Whenever your stomach acted up, that distinct rumbling accompanied a sudden rush of liquid trouble.

…Something massive was flooding inward.

‘Now that I think about it…’

Behind the cavity left by the golden urn, a tunnel extended outward.

No—on second thought, that wasn’t a tunnel at all.

It was an underground waterway!

Ruuuuumble!

The roar intensified into a deafening roar.

Without a doubt, a massive wall of rushing rapids was surging in.

‘Damn it! All my gold!’

Forget about the sword—he scrambled urgently back toward the golden vessel.

What were his options now? He had zero confidence in protecting it against the oncoming surge.

‘Should I smash it open and stuff my pouches with as much as possible… Huh?’

Wait—was this vessel even rectangular to begin with?

He had initially assumed it was an urn because the Blood God Demonic Sword had been sealed inside like a corpse.

Upon closer inspection, however… it bore a strange, uncanny resemblance to a giant belly.

No—it was crude, but undeniably shaped like a boat.

‘I see. This must be the final contingency plan.’

He shoved the golden boat aside and leaped directly on top of it.

“Adu! Get on here right now!”

The moment Adu scrambled aboard, a colossal wall of water poured through the aperture like a torrential waterfall.

By shoving the craft into the open space directly beside the opening, he had prevented it from being instantly pulverized by the initial impact—though it wouldn’t hold steady for long.

‘As long as we aren’t swept away before the others.’

“Jam your hands into the wall and hold on for dear life!”

“Okay!”

He plunged one arm deep into the earthen wall while gripping the edge of the golden boat with the other.

Thus they dangled precariously, enduring the violent turbulence and holding on with all their might.

“What is this water?!”

“Clutch onto each other tightly!”

“Gaaahhh!”

“We’re getting swept away!”

“Drive your swords into the walls and anchor yourselves!”

The interior corridors of the Sword King’s Tomb wound and turned, yet followed a relatively straight trajectory overall.

It was an ideal setup for a flash flood to sweep cleanly in a single direction.

Clinging desperately to the wall within a blind spot of the raging current, Yang-hui waited until every single Wudang and Namgung warrior had been washed downstream before finally letting go.

“Let’s move!”

“Wheee! This is fun!”

Miraculously, it actually was.

Riding the wild rapids aboard the vessel felt precisely like an amusement park ride.

Naturally, every sharp bend slammed them violently against the stone walls, making their hearts stop with every impact.

Like that jagged protruding rock dead ahead… wait, what?

“Yang-hui! The sword!”

The Blood God Demonic Sword had wedged itself firmly into a crevice in the rock.

Caught by the swirling current, it had snagged there purely by chance.

He kicked off the side of the boat, snatched the airborne weapon mid-leap, and executed a clean flip in the air.

The timing of the surging current aligned perfectly, gliding the golden boat right back underneath him for a flawless landing.

“Talk about an absolute steal!”

“Is it expensive?”

“No idea! But we’ll definitely find a use for keeping it around!”

He couldn’t afford to wield the Blood God Demonic Sword openly.

While his righteous energy neutralized its corrupting influence well enough, swinging around a blade with a blood-red edge screaming “demonic artifact” would immediately invite suspicion.

Especially since both the Namgung and Wudang sects knew what it looked like.

‘Still, this metal isn’t ordinary steel.’

He couldn’t allow it to fall back into the hands of the Blood Cult either. Melt it down, study its properties—he was bound to find some practical application.

Even if it simply meant keeping it away from those cult bastards, it was a victory.

“Now, the real question is what we do next.”

They couldn’t just drift endlessly down this river.

‘These rapids have to empty into the Baek Stream eventually.’

The river wound its way around the nearby Baek Mountain.

The exit of the underground passage had to link up with its banks at some point.

If they drifted too far, they would run straight into the remaining forces of the Blood Cult and the surviving warriors from the tomb.

“The cult remnants aren’t much of a threat, though.”

The majority of the Blood Cult’s Six Divisions consisted of half-demons and half-ghosts.

They were merely puppets under the mental control of Blood-eye Ra.

With Ra now dead, that controlling link had snapped—leaving them as little more than living corpses.

Correction: breathing, rotting corpses.

‘Regardless, the real headache is the surviving warriors.’

Namgung had only two or three men left after Cheon-hu’s massacre, but Wudang still retained a formidable force.

Should he run into them, they would attempt to confiscate the sword immediately.

‘What should I do? If only there were a secondary side path midway…’

Ah, right.

Recalling a detail from his memories, Yang-hui raised his head.

At that exact moment, a familiar shout echoed down from the ceiling above.

“Little brother!”

“Big bro!”

“Hwi, you rascal!”

“Hwi, little brother!”

Yang-hui’s face lit up with a wide grin.