Martial Blood Summit (1)

“Damn it….”

Hearing Ma Yugyeom murmur from the very bottom of his chest, I barely managed to hold back a sigh of my own.

It seemed I had been mistaken about far too many things until now.

It was earlier, when I was going all out sparring with Lady Cheong-yeon.

She suddenly said to me.

‘Captain Ma looks… off.’

‘…Pardon?’

Startled by her sudden remark, I asked, and she asked back instead.

‘I mean Ma Yugyeom. You’ve been keeping an eye on them for a while, haven’t you? On Ma Yugyeom and Mae Yeogyeong.’

‘Huh? Well, yes, but—how did you…?’

I was flustered.

I had indeed been paying attention to Ma Yugyeom, but I’d never told anyone. How did she know?

‘I could tell just by watching. Anyway, aren’t you going to follow him?’

‘What? Ah, but I’m in the middle of a match with you….’

‘I’m fine. Go.’

Pushed along like that as I tailed Ma Yugyeom, I realized one more thing.

While I was giving my all against her, she’d had enough ease to observe Ma Yugyeom….

It looked like I’d need a lot more time if I ever wanted to beat her.

Shadowing Ma Yugyeom in secret, I heard everything—his talk with Sa Gunil, and then with Mae Yeogyeong.

All thanks to the assassin’s stealth art I’d learned from my father’s library.

Hiding my body in the tree’s shadow near Ma Yugyeom’s quarters, I watched his back as he trudged along beneath the darkened sky.

In my ears, Mae Yeogyeong’s sobbing drifted faintly.

It was a scene unbearably forlorn.

I compared what I already knew with what I had just learned.

In my previous life, we—no, all of the Thirteen Squads—thought the root cause that broke Ma Yugyeom so badly he later defected to the Demonic Sect was Mae Yeogyeong’s death.

That he couldn’t bear her death because he’d loved her too much.

‘But… that wasn’t it, was it?’

Based on what I’d heard today, it seemed we had been completely wrong back then.

If today’s account was true, by the time Mae Yeogyeong died, Ma Yugyeom had already broken up with her.

And the woman he truly loved was Tang Yeo-eun.

‘What is this? How does that make sense?’

My head was getting tangled.

If so, why did Ma Yugyeom, who ended up dating the woman he truly loved—Tang Yeo-eun—fall apart that badly?

And why did he treat Tang Yeo-eun so horribly?

Back then, after he started seeing Tang Yeo-eun, Ma Yugyeom toyed with her like a plaything.

The sight of a drunken Ma Yugyeom groping her breast in front of people, and Tang Yeo-eun unable even to resist with a face full of shame, remains seared into me.

But if all that wasn’t because of Mae Yeogyeong’s death….

A jumble of thoughts surged up.

‘Was it because Sa Gunil refused him? Because his dream of rebuilding the Diancang Sect was crushed?’

Right now, what mattered most to Ma Yugyeom was clearly the revival of the Diancang Sect.

Even I was shocked when that prideful man bowed his head to Sa Gunil and said he would give up being sect leader.

But it felt like a stretch to say his dream collapsed just because Sa Gunil refused.

The Ma Yugyeom I knew wasn’t the sort to quit after one refusal.

If anything, he’d find some way to change Sa Gunil’s mind—or find another way entirely.

I didn’t like him, but I fully acknowledged that he was a man of tremendous mental toughness.

Which was why I couldn’t understand his fall to darkness all the more.

It was nothing but frustrating.

With all these questions still crowding my head, the day of the Martial Blood Summit finally arrived.

I kept watching Ma Yugyeom afterward, but nothing special happened.

Compared to Mae Yeogyeong, who grew more haggard by the day, Ma Yugyeom seemed to be doing just fine, as if nothing had happened.

It seemed the breakup with Mae Yeogyeong and Sa Gunil’s refusal hadn’t shocked him much.

“The Alliance Leader will be arriving soon.”

A courier who rushed ahead to the Thirteen Squads brought the news.

Then Vice-Chief Heon Yeongbo—already hollow-eyed from lack of sleep—threw a fit as he ran around.

“What are you doing?! I said polish that spot more! You two, sweep over there—quickly! We don’t have time! Out of the way! I’ll do it myself!”

As he badgered everyone in sight, obsessing over cleaning and tidying, Bi Sa-yeong sidled away and muttered.

“He’s really putting his life into this. Looks a bit insane, honestly. At this rate, is he going to follow the Alliance Leader back after the summit?”

“Who knows. Probably not.”

Knowing all too well it would be useless anyway, I could only find him pathetic—and a little pitiful.

Before noon, all members of the Thirteen Squads stood in formation beside the entrance.

The talks were in the afternoon, but the Alliance Leader’s party was said to arrive just before noon.

And soon, we saw them approaching along the official road.

Chivalry King Moyong Geom, current leader of the Martial Alliance; Chief Strategist Zhuge Jigang; and the Divine Sword Guard as the leader’s escort; even the Heavenly Dragon Corps, said to be the Alliance’s greatest strike force—altogether a force of about a hundred and fifty.

Even if it wasn’t Heon Yeongbo, every member looked stiff with tension—everyone but me, oddly enough, felt at ease.

Their arrival time and numbers matched my memories from the last life exactly, and that gave me a strange sense of stability.

All members of the Thirteen Squads greeted them, lined up neatly beside the entrance.

At the very front, Chief Pung Yang offered a crisp fist-salute and raised his voice.

“We pay our respects to the Alliance Leader!”

We followed with the same crisp salute and chorus.

“We pay our respects to the Alliance Leader!”

The Alliance Leader, Chivalry King Moyong Geom, received our greeting with a pleased smile.

“It is good to see you all! At last I, Moyong, meet those who defend the front day and night, safeguarding the orthodox way. I know well that our peace is thanks to your toil. I apologize that busyness delayed me from greeting you sooner. Forgive me—and accept my heartfelt thanks.”

He didn’t speak loudly, yet his voice boomed in our ears.

The inner strength in his voice, the effortless pressure he exuded—truly the presence of one of the absolute powers of the current martial world.

His personal presence even seemed greater than that of the Divine Sword Guard or the Heavenly Dragon Corps behind him.

When he finished and offered us a salute, Heon Yeongbo seized the moment and raised his voice.

“How could we call it toil to thwart the Demonic Sect and protect the world’s peace?! We of the Thirteen Squads are honored to be of the slightest service to you, Alliance Leader! Please, don’t diminish yourself with such words!”

Moyong Geom laughed heartily, as if delighted.

“Hahaha! Is that so? A mindset worthy of heroes of the orthodox way indeed! Hahaha!”

Flushed that Moyong responded so happily, Heon Yeongbo hurried to add more.

“Heroes? You flatter us! How could we dare accept such a title before the true hero of the orthodox way, the Alliance Leader?!”

“Oh? Hahaha!”

As Moyong Geom laughed again at the flattery, the elated Heon Yeongbo tried to keep going.

“I, Heon Yeongbo, would—!”

But beside him, the strategist Heaven-Thunder Zhuge Jigang cut him off with a blank face.

“Alliance Leader, shall we go in? Once we go inside, these young warriors can finally rest.”

“Oh? Ah, quite right. Let us go in, then.”

Missing his chance to show off more obsequiousness, Heon Yeongbo cried out quickly.

“I—I will guide you! This way, please!”

As the Alliance Leader and the strategist followed Heon Yeongbo into the hall and the Divine Sword Guard and Heavenly Dragon Corps layered around them, Chief Pung Yang finally turned to us.

“Dismissed for now. We’ll form up again when the Demonic Sect’s party arrives this afternoon, so don’t go far.”

Only then did we scatter to rest.

I asked Captain Seol Pung:

“What did you think of the Alliance Leader, Captain?”

He hummed, thinking a moment.

“Mm… hard to say.”

Moyong Geom, who succeeded Chivalry King Cheon Gigang, the previous Alliance Leader, inheriting both the title and the seat, was the Grand Elder of the Moyong Clan—one of the Five Great Clans—and one of the “Two Kings” among the Three Demons and Two Kings, five absolute figures of the age.

In other words, one of the top three warriors in today’s martial world.

And yet my impression when seeing him in person was… odd.

He certainly looked incredibly strong, but…

In my past life, seeing him had felt so lofty and distant I’d felt nothing at all.

This time, though, I felt like I could glimpse a sliver of that strength.

Of course, that was because he didn’t hide his presence at all.

After a brief pause, the Captain answered.

“He looked like a mountain—so high it felt unreachable.”

He was acknowledging the Alliance Leader’s strength.

But then he added quietly:

“Yet… I couldn’t see him rising into the clouds.”

As I thought….

I nodded.

I knew who those “clouds” referred to.

The Alliance Leader, Chivalry King Moyong Geom, certainly radiated a terrifying presence.

But compared to the Enchanting Lust Demon Son Eunsang of the Four Grand Evils I’d seen not long ago…

It was exactly as the Captain put it.

Where Son Eunsang’s height couldn’t be measured at all, like a bank of clouds, the Alliance Leader felt like a mountain—high, but with a height one could still, somehow, gauge.

Whether that was accurate, I couldn’t swear; perhaps we were mistaken.

Still, between the perfunctory greetings that hadn’t felt heartfelt and the way he seemed pleased by Heon Yeongbo’s flattery, the supposed pinnacle of the orthodox world left me oddly disappointed.

And that disappointment only deepened when the Demonic Sect Leader, Blood Demon Jeon Mugwang, arrived at the Thirteen Squads that afternoon.

Jeon Mugwang entered the Thirteen Squads with only four men in black behind him, bamboo hats pulled low.

Yet we could barely breathe.

The presence those five exuded naturally crushed us far more than the hundred and fifty who had come with the Alliance Leader.

Behind me, Bi Sayoung muttered.

“Incredible. Feels like a boulder is pressing down on me. How can just five feel more than a hundred and fifty?”

I agreed.

Especially the presence of Jeon Mugwang at the front—no less overwhelming than the boundless pressure I’d felt from Son Eunsang.

It was tremendous.

Smiling faintly as he looked us over, the Blood Demon spoke.

“I’ve heard much about the Flying Dragon Thirteen Squads. They say there are many gifted young ones among you. It’s an honor to meet you in person.”

His impression was strikingly refined.

If not for the blood-red finery emblazoned with “blood” and the fierce eyes, he could have passed for a great hero of the orthodox way.

‘Well… it figures.’

Come to think of it, he had once been head of the Jeon Clan, an orthodox family.

Recalling the past Elder Seok Gyeongdal had told me, I felt complicated.

Chief Pung Yang saluted him.

“It is an honor to meet the leader of the Demonic Sect. I am Pung Yang, Chief of the Flying Dragon Thirteen Squads. The Alliance Leader awaits you.”

At that, the four behind the Blood Demon flinched.

Then the largest of the bamboo-hatted men burst forth killing intent and shouted.

“How dare you address the Supreme One like that?!”

Fwoooosh!

“Urgh!”

Crushed by the sudden, colossal murderous aura, we had to draw up our inner strength just to keep from stumbling back.

Those who managed to hold their ground were first-class and above; the second-rate and below staggered backward.

With nothing but formless killing intent, the bamboo-hat had pressed countless warriors.

A fearsome master.

Then the Blood Demon lifted one hand lightly and spoke.

“That is enough, Cheok Gang.”

In an instant, the murderous aura pressing us vanished like it had been washed away.

With a casual lift of his hand, the Blood Demon had cut off the aura radiating in all directions.

Realizing what that meant, our faces blanched.

And that man was Cheok Gang….

Cheok Gang was one of the Five Demonic Lords of the Demonic Sect, called the Iron-Body Mad Demon, and among the Thirty-Six Stars of the World, closest to the fifteen absolute beings.

Hearing the name explained the murderous pressure just now.

Yet even his name paled before what the Blood Demon had shown.

Unleashing formless energy so wildly was incredible—but cutting it off was a different order altogether.

To perfectly control energy emitted outside the body meant that, if he wished, he could manipulate that formless force like hands and feet.

He could move objects—or even kill—using aura alone. Truly the martial power of an absolute of this era.

The Blood Demon spoke gently to Cheok Gang:

“If a chief of the Flying Dragon Unit within the Martial Alliance cannot call me the leader of the Demonic Sect, what should he call me? Are you telling me he should call me ‘Supreme One’? Then you must call the Alliance Leader ‘Supreme One’ as well.”

Cheok Gang bowed his head, flustered.

“H-how could I to that wretch—”

The Blood Demon’s voice turned mildly stern.

“Cheok Gang. We are here for a summit. A summit cannot be held without mutual respect. Are you trying to disrupt the talks I personally initiated?”

At that, Cheok Gang dropped to his knees at once.

“Forgive me, Supreme One! This fool once again failed to grasp your will and committed a blunder! Please punish me!”

Watching that, we could only stare, aghast.

For Cheok Gang, one of the Thirty-Six Stars—famous for his ferocity and arrogance—to kneel so easily.

And in front of us, mere greenhorns of the orthodox camp.

It showed just how absolute the Blood Demon’s status was within the Demonic Sect.

“Rise, Cheok Gang. Your treatment will be decided once we return to the cult.”

“Yes, Supreme One!”

After admonishing Cheok Gang, the Blood Demon turned back to us with an easy smile.

“We’ve shown an unseemly sight before the young dragons of the orthodox way. As bastards of the wicked path, we must look lacking in many ways to pillars of the orthodox path. I ask your understanding.”

He smiled gently as he spoke, but none of us could smile back.

He appeared utterly different from the ‘evil fiend’ we had imagined.

With the martial power of an absolute, he also possessed the composure of a veteran elder of the martial world.

Looking us over, the Blood Demon spoke.

“I inquired a bit about the Flying Dragon Thirteen Squads before coming. Yours has more than the usual share of young dragons.”

His gaze swept from First Squad Leader Han Gyoseong down the line.

“From the Qingcheng Sect, famed as a prodigy even there—Blue-Wind Sword Dragon Han Gyoseong.”

At that, Han Gyoseong gave a silent salute.

The man who always looked drowsy now shone with eyes sharp as blades.

“And Dragon Sword of Diancang, Sa Gunil, said to be the foremost among Diancang’s disciples.”

Sa Gunil only glared in silence.

He could not bring himself to salute the very man who had annihilated Diancang.

Not drawing his sword was likely the utmost restraint he could manage.

“And… hoh. As rumored, a stunning beauty indeed. Tang-Clan Sword Peak, Tang Yeo-eun, yes? Beauty alone would be enough to astonish, yet you have talent as well—your parents must be unimaginably proud. I can only envy them.”

It was clearly a pleasant compliment, yet it seemed to grate on Lady Tang.

She trembled, clenched her teeth, and forced herself to salute.

The Blood Demon, as if not noticing, moved his gaze on.

To Ma Yugyeom, who had been glaring as if to kill him from the start.

Smiling gently, the Blood Demon said:

“You must be the Sword Hawk of Diancang, Ma Yugyeom. The son of Ma Wonil, the former sect leader of the Diancang Sect—if I recall. Your looks don’t much resemble your father.”

Ma Yugyeom’s face twisted horribly.

For the Blood Demon—the very culprit who had brought Sect Leader Ma Wonil to his death—to speak that name… even I could see it was too much to ask him to endure.

In the end, he could not, and reached for his sword.

“You dare?!”