#44: Sword Saint Of Heavenly Righteousness — Reborn on the Demonic Cult Battlefield

The day the matter with Lady Cheong-yeon was resolved, the Sword Saint said he would stay here with us for a while.

After all, people at the main household believed he had already entered seclusion for closed-door training before the Martial Blood Summit, so appearing too early might draw suspicion from Zhuge Jigang, he explained.

But to me, it only sounded like the excuse of a doting father who simply wanted to remain by his daughter’s side.

“You don’t understand. I have never seen a young lady whose wisdom, beauty, or martial talent surpassed my Cheong-yeon’s. Even Seoyul is outstanding, but compared to Cheong-yeon she is nothing more than a firefly before the full moon.”

When we spoke of Zhuge Jigang and mentioned his daughter, the Heavenly Sword Phoenix, Zhuge Seoyul, the Sword Saint suddenly cut in with this declaration.

Of course, everyone acknowledged Lady Cheong-yeon’s exceptional wisdom.

But to say she surpassed the Heavenly Sword Phoenix in beauty or martial ability… that was a stretch.

“Ah, r-right.”

When we forced ourselves to smile and nod, the Sword Saint thumped his chest in frustration.

“You don’t believe me, do you? The only reason Cheong-yeon has not yet reached the Pinnacle Realm is because she’s had little interest in martial arts. She’s always been curious about many things, and since her teenage years she has rarely trained properly.”

Yet what we had seen of her on the frontlines was diligence and tireless effort, so his claim still seemed doubtful.

“Ah, yes.”

“And that’s not all. Right now her bangs cover it, but her beauty is truly…”

“Father!”

Lady Cheong-yeon suddenly appeared, shouting loudly enough to make the Sword Saint jump and stop mid-sentence.

“Ah, Ch–Cheong-yeon. This father of yours only meant…”

Lady Cheong-yeon dragged him away by the arm, leaving words behind.

“My father is good in every way, but sometimes his pride in his daughter gets… excessive. Please understand.”

A Sword Saint acting like a doting fool—it shattered the heroic image I had.

We had expected a legendary figure from stories, but in person he felt more like the uncle next door.

Bi Sayoung suddenly muttered.

“How… enviable.”

…And I agreed.

Those of us who had never known a father’s affection—including myself, Bi Sayoung who lost his teacher who was like a parent, Bae Jonggwan whose father died young, and even Captain Seol Pung who grew up in the mountains with only his grandfather—were all starved for paternal love.

So seeing such an open display of affection between father and daughter filled us with envy.

But the Sword Saint was not only a doting father.

Overjoyed to meet talented young warriors, he took time to instruct each of us personally.

In those moments, he displayed the awe-inspiring presence of the Sword Saint we had imagined.

If his doting toward his daughter was beyond expectation, then the sight of him with a sword in hand was beyond imagination.

“Hyaap!”

Captain Seol Pung unleashed his Beast Fist, lunging like a flying tiger with a sweeping claw strike.

Buaang!

But his strike froze as the Sword Saint’s blade appeared right before his arm.

“!”

And in that moment of hesitation, the tip of the Sword Saint’s sword was already under his chin.

“Ugh!”

The Sword Saint smiled and said,

“That makes ten times you’ve died already.”

It had all happened in less than half a breath.

The mighty Captain Seol Pung looked like a mere child before the Sword Saint.

“Thank you, Elder.”

As Seol Pung bowed respectfully, the Sword Saint replied,

“You are fully prepared to advance to the next stage. The barrier is not of your body but of your mind. Whatever burden weighs on you, look deeper within and you will find the key. Also, your martial arts lean too much toward movement without stillness. Motion without stillness can become scattered. If you grasp the mystery of stillness within motion, not only will the wall before you fall, but the step beyond it will not be impossible.”

Seol Pung’s internal energy had reached the full measure of eighty years. The next stage would be ninety, and beyond that lay the wall of one hundred—the barrier of the Transcendent Realm.

To speak of such things so casually left us stunned.

Truly, the teachings of an absolute master like the Sword Saint were worth more than years of training.

Lost in thought over his words, Seol Pung suddenly snapped back to himself and bowed deeply.

“Thank you! Thank you so much, Elder!”

And not only Seol Pung—

The Sword Saint imparted similar guidance to every member of our squad.

To me he said:

“You are but one step away from the Pinnacle Realm. And that step is the nature of Weapon Qi.”

This much I already knew.

“But have you ever asked yourself what Weapon Qi truly is?”

“Eh? Isn’t Weapon Qi… condensed and hardened qi?”

“Yes, everyone thinks that because of the name. So they try to compress their qi as tightly as possible. But I see it differently. Qi is not ice but water. It flows freely and takes any shape. So if you wished to cut with water, how would you do it? By simply compressing it until it hardens?”

His words were like a Zen riddle.

Yet I instinctively felt it was the most important question for breaking through.

To cut with water.

Not ice, but water.

How?

As I sank deeper into thought, he smiled and quietly moved on to the next person.

The Sword Saint did not stop with our squad.

“If there are young ones in other squads who have reached the Pinnacle Realm, bring them. I would gladly lend my aid. There may be many who can guide first-rate warriors, but few can guide Pinnacle experts.”

Since this would raise the power of the entire Thirteen Squads, we could hardly refuse.

Our captain brought First Squad Captain Han Gyoseong, the Azure Dragon of the Sword, and Second Squad’s Diancang Dragon of the Sword, Sa Gunil, while I brought Third Squad’s Tang Clan Sword Phoenix, Tang Yeo-eun.

They swore to keep it secret, and so they too received instruction from the Sword Saint.

Naturally, they were astonished and grateful.

But one person was not.

Captain Ma Yugyeom of the Fourth Squad.

I had been the one sent to invite him, because among us he seemed to view me most favorably. Oddly enough, it was true.

Still, when I sought him out, I could not even speak with him.

He was sprawled out drunk, not in his quarters but in a corner of the training ground.

“Drinking in broad daylight?”

I asked the squad member who had led me there, bewildered. His face darkened.

“For some reason he has been like this since yesterday. When asked, he just lashes out. If the vice-captain were here, she might speak with him, but she too has suddenly vanished…”

At those words, a chill ran down my spine.

What? Mae Yeogyeong was missing?

“Vice-Captain Mae Yeogyeong?! Since when?”

“Since last evening. She looked troubled lately, so I thought perhaps she wanted time alone…”

“Got it!”

Cutting him off, I sprinted away.

‘Mae Yeogyeong is gone? Around this time in my past life, she was killed by Jigwi… Damn it, I’ve been too distracted with Lady Cheong-yeon to watch these two!’

But I suddenly stopped and turned back to ask,

“Since when has Captain Ma been like this?”

“Drinking? Just since yesterday. But truthfully, he has been odd ever since the Martial Blood Summit.”

Ever since the Martial Blood Summit…

So it wasn’t Mae Yeogyeong’s doing after all.

Lady Cheong-yeon’s words suddenly echoed in my mind.

That it seemed the Blood Demon had sent him a secret transmission.

But what could the Blood Demon have said? What words could break someone as strong as Ma Yugyeom?

Could it be the secret of the Jeon Clan and Diancang Sect’s betrayal that led to the Demonic Sect’s rise?

No—he couldn’t have explained all that in such a short moment.

And Ma Yugyeom would not have shattered so easily over such a story.

Or did he speak of Ma Yugyeom’s father, former sect leader Ma Wonil? Could it be that he was still alive, made a puppet of the Demonic Sect?

Considering how in my past life the household of the Seonu Clan was enslaved by the Black-Blood Phantom Lord Du Dang, that possibility was not far-fetched.

Turning martial artists into puppets and tormenting their loved ones was his twisted amusement.

Yet I had heard that Ma Wonil was buried alive in the Tomb of the Martial Emperor’s Blood Massacre alongside other masters when the Diancang Sect fell.

So for him to have been dug up and made into a puppet seemed unlikely.

And even if it were true, would that truly break someone like Ma Yugyeom?

No, something was still missing.

But there was no time to ponder further.

What mattered most now was finding Mae Yeogyeong.

If she had been gone since yesterday, the chances were slim—but still I prayed it was not too late.

Back with my squad, I shouted,

“Vice-Captain Mae Yeogyeong of the Fourth Squad has been missing since yesterday! I have a terrible feeling about this!”

By now my squad trusted my instincts completely, after everything we had been through.

Without a word, they joined me in the search. With the tracking skills of Sag Muhun, we found her within the day.

Drained of blood, her body reduced to something like a dry husk.

At dawn that same day, before Mae Yeogyeong was found, Do Huiyeong of the Fifth Squad rose with a vacant look, as though sleepwalking, and left her quarters.

Her roommates stirred at her movements but only sighed, thinking it yet another of her nightly disturbances.

She had lately been plagued by nightmares, often waking in fright or wandering out restlessly.

None noticed she left barefoot.

Do Huiyeong wandered straight into the jungle, muttering ceaselessly.

“West… I must go west…”

After walking far beyond the Thirteen Squads’ camp, she suddenly came to her senses at the sound of unfamiliar voices.

“Kahahaha! As Lord Du Dang said, brother!”

“Indeed! He told us to wait around this time, and the Black-Blood Phantom Lord’s suggestion art proves unmatched!”

Startled, she turned to see two men—the brothers Ji Mak and Gu Yojil, now reduced to hideous monsters—leering at her.

“N–no…!”

But as a mere second-rate martial artist, she was subdued instantly by the two Pinnacle experts.

Her blood points sealed, she could only weep in terror.

Gu Yojil eyed her hungrily.

“Brother, why not taste this one first?”

But Ji Mak rebuked him.

“Would you throw away gold for copper coins? If they discover her missing, all is lost!”

“Y-yes, you’re right. Forgive me, brother.”

With his head bowed, Gu Yojil listened as Ji Mak softened his tone.

“Women like her we can seize anytime. But bait to catch Tang Yeo-eun is rare. And we only have two Blood Parasites that Lord Du Dang granted us. Not one can be wasted.”

“Yes, brother.”

The two had sworn vengeance for their fallen siblings when they failed to capture Tang Yeo-eun last time.

Now they plotted to use her as both revenge and prize, having begged Du Dang for aid with all their wealth.

So Du Dang, attending the Martial Blood Summit, placed suggestion arts on Do Huiyeong and handed the brothers two Blood Parasites.

Ji Mak now drew a small vial from his robe, eyes gleaming with greed.

“Hehehe, at last I’ll use this.”

He carefully opened it and poured its contents into Do Huiyeong’s mouth.

Unable to resist, she shuddered as the soft, writhing thing slid down her throat. Soon, she fainted.

They had fed her a Blood Parasite, pinnacle of the Demonic Sect’s possession arts.

Other possession arts could be broken by greater internal energy, but once a Blood Parasite was inside, it could not be removed.

The orthodox factions had not even discovered their existence yet.

Ji Mak released her blood points and asked,