Chapter 110

Chapter 110
Chapter 110

The Whitewater River wound its way past the foot of the hills close to Baek Su Mountain.

Without warning, the exact middle of the river surged upward like a violent geyser.

Shwaaaaa!

It was far more than a simple column of water blasting into the air.

Intermixed within the raging torrent were dozens, even hundreds of human figures.

“Cough! Cough!”

The Wudang Cleaning Elder dragged several disciples onto the riverbank, dropping flat as he coughed up water continuously.

“Thought I was a goner…”

It wasn’t just him; Wudang disciples lay everywhere along the shore, gasping desperately for breath or heaving as water poured from their mouths.

“Huff! Huff!”

“W-We survived…!”

Collapsed martial artists littered the riverbank. Even the hardiest among them needed at least an hour to recover their energy.

The moment anyone regained even a scrap of stamina, their immediate reaction was ruthless…

Puk! Puk!

“Elder, these ones aren’t putting up a fight.”

“Looks like their minds are completely gone.”

“Doesn’t matter. Kill the lot of them. We’ve got someone else to interrogate anyway.”

…to mercilessly slaughter every last half-human corpse puppet strewn about the area.

Nearby, a demonic cultivator possessing unnaturally long, toad-like arms found himself swarmed by a group of vengeful martial artists.

“Vice Leader! Vice Leader…!”

Though the Protection Vice Leader was a peak-tier expert versed in all manner of dark sorceries, standing alone against a wave of furious martial artists was an impossible task.

“You slaughtered plenty inside, didn’t you?!”

“Time to settle your debts.”

Scarcely fifteen minutes passed before the Vice Leader was subdued and forced down onto his knees.

The Cleaning Elder strode up right in front of him.

“Demonic scum. State your name and allegiance.”

“……I have nothing to say to you hypocrites.”

Under normal circumstances, he would have shouted sternly before witnesses to preserve Wudang’s dignity to the utmost.

Instead, the Cleaning Elder simply pressed a hand to his throbbing temples and looked away.

He lacked the spare energy to trade empty threats with common trash right now.

‘At the very least, taking this captive lets us save some face.’

The Sword King Mausoleum had turned out to be an elaborate trap laid by the demonic factions.

Yet Wudang had safely guided the other martial artists out of the depths and even managed to capture the demons’ second-in-command.

The Cleaning Elder already had his excuse neatly prepared.

‘And on top of that…’

Among the fallen Wudang disciples rested Namgung Cheon-hu alongside a member of the Soaring Heaven Sword Squad.

He had spotted them drifting along the current and purposely fished them out.

“Wake them.”

“Yes, Elder.”

Channeling internal energy into their bodies to stimulate their meridians, the disciples watched as Namgung Cheon-hu and the squad member finally fluttered their eyes open.

True to form, their first reaction mirrored everyone else’s as they spat out mouthfuls of water.

“Ptooey!”

“Cough! Cough!”

“Young Lord Namgung. Are you still with us?”

“Where…?”

“The riverbank near Baek Su Mountain. More importantly, do you remember?”

Namgung Cheon-hu’s entire body stiffened.

That single question dragged up every harrowing memory from before his consciousness had slipped away.

He had butchered his very own loyal retainers with his own hands…

‘I-I have to silence the witnesses…’

“Young Lord Namgung.”

He snapped abruptly back to reality.

With every single Wudang disciple acting as a witness, eliminating them was out of the question.

Even the single surviving retainer could not be touched.

Not that doing so would change his predicament anyway.

“What we endured inside the Sword King Mausoleum was an unspeakable, horrifying atrocity. We will present this captured demon as undeniable proof to notify the Nine Great Sects and formulate a joint response.”

“A response…?”

One could sense the demonic forces lurking in the dark—the truth was out! Naturally, all righteous factions must unite to eradicate them. That is the sacred duty of those who walk the orthodox path.”

Namgung Cheon-hu grasped the Cleaning Elder’s true motive, despair washing over his features.

That cunning old fox was undoubtedly going to drag his private disgrace out into the open.

It was the only way the Elder could salvage his own reputation.

‘I… I’ve ruined everything…’

To cement his standing within the clan, he had secretly gathered clues regarding the Sword King Mausoleum behind everyone’s back, breathing a word to no one.

And this disaster was the fruit of that ambition.

He had lost all but one of the retainers who had sworn allegiance to him—effectively halving his personal power base.

The main family would surely demand accountability, leaving him with even less than before.

“Damn it all to hell…!”

“If you have enough breath left to curse, save it for the journey home. The Five Great Clans will need to align with the Nine Great Sects as well. I trust you understand.”

The Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans stood as the twin pillars of the orthodox martial world, locked in a perpetual dance of rivalry.

‘Wudang at least has a captured demon to show for this expedition. If I return empty-handed…!’

“……The demonic sword. Where is the demonic sword?”

“You were the last one holding it—why ask me? It must have been swept away by the rapids and sunk deep into the riverbed somewhere.”

A terrifying demonic artifact capable of staining the world with rivers of blood.

It needed to be tracked down, sealed away, or destroyed entirely.

This, too, would serve as the perfect pretext for Wudang.

Or perhaps…

Namgung Cheon-hu gazed piercingly into the Cleaning Elder’s eyes.

Suddenly, the realization hit him.

Baek Su Mountain marked the precise border dividing Henan and Anhui Provinces.

It sat right next door to Hubei, the home territory of Wudang.

“Cleaning Elder. I will contact the main family and dispatch our own martial artists to search for the demonic sword.”

“So you can stir up further bloodshed? Wudang will handle the matter ourselves!”

Namgung Cheon-hu ground his teeth together.

His worst suspicions were confirmed.

‘You sly old fox!’

The jianghu was utterly ruthless. Show a hint of weakness, and you would be torn to shreds; expose a single flaw, and a blade would find your heart. Such was the law of the martial world.

The Cleaning Elder—no, Wudang as a whole—was blatantly scheming to use the missing demonic sword as an excuse to expand their influence into Anhui.

The sect had always harbored ambitions of territorial expansion.

Presented with both a golden opportunity and a righteous justification, they would pounce like starving beasts.

“It seems you understand. Then be on your way.”

Namgung Cheon-hu stared blankly as the Wudang disciples turned and walked away.

Had the Namgung Clan not fallen from its former grace, Wudang would never have dared pull such a stunt, regardless of the justification.

‘If only the main family had maintained its position as the preeminent Great Clan…!’

Dark, turbulent emotions swirled deep within Namgung Cheon-hu’s eyes.

—

At that exact moment.

Baek Yang-hui’s group had crawled out through the dog hole and were now resting inside a rocky crevice in the ceiling of the Sword King Mausoleum’s first eastern chamber.

“Uwaaaah!”

“Feels like I’ve actually come back from the dead!”

“Man, we went through absolute hell down there.”

“And then that freak flood right at the very end, too.”

“Almost got washed away ourselves, haha.”

“Well, about that… Yang-hui’s the one who pulled it off.”

“Hm?”

All eyes turned toward him, prompting Yang-hui to flash a faint smirk.

“Thanks to that stunt, we managed to rake in a mountain of gold.”

Yang-hui and A-du, swept downstream by the roaring current, had coincidentally run into the Tang siblings inspecting the dog hole, alongside Gu-ak and Chui-dal.

They had quickly formed a human chain, reaching down to haul up not only Yang-hui and A-du, but a massive golden goblet as well.

Because the goblet was too large to fit through the narrow opening, they had smashed it to pieces on the spot.

Now, their arms and traveling bundles were overflowing with gleaming gold.

“Heh heh heh heh! Heh heh heh heh!”

Kurrr rumble! Kurrr rumble!

Sinister laughter blended with the distant roar of the rapids, echoing back and forth.

“Little brother. We’ve rested enough. Time to spill the details—what actually happened beyond the Silent Array?”

Yang-hui gave them a concise summary of events.

“I monopolized all the arrangements and treasures left behind by the Sword King inside. Oh, and I killed that Blood Eyes bastard too.”

“……That feels awfully brief for a life-or-death ordeal.”

Suddenly, Chui-dal reached out to touch the sword hilt resting in Yang-hui’s hand.

“Is this red blade another relic left by the Sword King?”

Thwack!

Chui-dal received a sharp smack on the back of his hand for touching it so carelessly, prompting him to pull back with an aggrieved expression.

“Why’d you hit me? It’s not like the thing’s going to wear out from a poke!”

“It won’t wear out, but you’ll turn into a rampaging murder ghost.”

“Huh?”

“There’s an evil spirit possessing the blade. Touch it, lose your mind, and you’ll go completely berserk.”

“Eek…!”

“Whoa. A genuine demonic sword.”

“I never thought such legendary items actually existed.”

In the contemporary martial world, such weapons were treated as mere myths.

Then again, it was one of the sacred relics belonging to the Blood God of the Blood Cult, meaning myth had simply stepped into reality.

“We’ve got a few items like that lying around in history. The Zhuge Clan’s Crooked Dragon Pavilion holds one too, after all.”

“Really?”

The Tang Clan’s history spanned barely a century, leaving them with no ancient ancestral relics of their own.

This was their first time laying eyes on something like the Blood God’s Demonic Sword—a true demonic weapon—leaving them thoroughly fascinated.

“Still, little brother, are you really fine holding onto a demonic sword like that?”

“I’m a once-in-a-millennium prodigy, remember?”

“Just kidding. The Harmonious Heaven Principle Origin Art resists demonic qi effectively, and my own mental fortitude keeps it suppressed.”

Brushing the matter aside casually, he pressed on.

“Alright. Our strength is back. Let’s head out.”

“Already? I wouldn’t mind resting a bit longer.”

“Chui-dal, wouldn’t it be much nicer to rest in a luxurious inn room instead?”

“I suppose you’re right. Once those martial artists who got swept away regain their senses, they’re going to scour Baek Su Mountain from top to bottom.”

Tang Yeon-i’s eyes widened abruptly.

“Oh!”

“Yeon-i, what is it?”

“The Blood Cult remnants. They all got flushed out into the open together—could there be a bloodbath outside?”

Yang-hui shook his head.

“Unlikely. Their leader is dead, so most of them are little more than brainless meat puppets now.”

After offering a brief explanation, he stood up.

“The only surviving cultists left are probably the Protection Vice Leader and maybe one or two others. Wudang will take care of that.”

They would likely capture a few survivors just to save face.

“Ugh. My body feels so heavy.”

“Heh heh, though it’s a nice kind of heavy, considering the gold.”

“Ain’t that the truth, heh heh.”

Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind.

“When we report back, do you think Chief Steward Han will ascend to nirvana again?”

“Nirvana is for ghosts. You mean ‘ascend to immortality’.”

In their minds, they vividly pictured Chief Steward Han Seok-eon dancing around in sheer glee.

“The return of the money god.”

“He’s definitely going to hold a grand welcoming ritual.”

—

At that precise moment.

Chief Steward Han, who was sitting down for a game of go with Yeo Un-hyeok, suddenly lifted his gaze toward the sky.

“Leader Yeo. My intuition is tingling fiercely.”

“What brings that on out of nowhere, Chief Han?”

Seven full years had passed since Yeo Un-hyeok first joined the Baek Clan.

He and Han Seok-eon had grown close, nearing the status of true friends.

They shared the rare distinction of being the clan’s only two elders.

“It’s tingling intensely. Whoa, I’ve never felt it this strong before!”

“Stop spouting nonsense.”

Confused at first, Yeo Un-hyeok caught sight of Han’s trademark hand gesture and immediately understood.

“Heh heh heh heh!”

Han had curled his index finger and thumb into the shape of a coin, holding it up to his eye like an excited child while wearing a greedy grin.

It could only mean one thing.

“Young Master Hui is bringing home a fortune again?”

“Not ‘again’—he’s already secured it. Absolutely!”

Friend or not, the old man’s instincts were enough to give someone goosebumps on occasion.

Yang-hui was over a thousand li away on an escort mission in Anhui—how could he possibly sense it from here?

Pure divine intuition. Perhaps his upper dantian had finally cracked open.

“Your nose for wealth never fails, Chief Han. Clan finances must be looking quite healthy by now, eh?”

“Hey! We still have a long way to go! This old man’s ultimate dream is to bathe in a tub filled entirely with gold coins before I kick the bucket!”

That might sound fitting for a leader of the wicked path—but coming from the steward of an orthodox clan?

“Anyway, Chief Han. What about that other matter from earlier?”

Han Seok-eon’s expression darkened instantly.

The shift was so dramatic that he suddenly looked a decade older.

“Young Master So, you mean? Sigh… I’m still agonizing over it. I haven’t even dared tell the secluded patriarch.”

Baek Heon-so had been utterly devastated upon discovering that Yang-hui had departed on the escort mission without him.

Despite his rigorous training regimen, Chui-dal—who was the exact same age—got to tag along, yet not a single word had been mentioned to him.

“Running away from home at just fourteen years old. When is that kid ever going to grow up?”

“I think it’s quite the opposite. He’s simply too mature for his age.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Young Master So only wants to earn Young Master Hui’s approval.”

Yeo Un-hyeok stroked his beard thoughtfully as he continued.

“He might even return with massive gains, just like Hui. He looks up to Hui as an older brother and tries harder than anyone to emulate him.”

Neither Han Seok-eon nor Yeo Un-hyeok could possibly know the truth yet.

That the runaway Baek Heon-so would genuinely return carrying something monumental in his wake.