Righteous Chivalry Guild (5)

It was then.

Something glowing blue flew at Sa Won-yang’s back as he pounced on Hwa Yeong-bin.

Swhak!

“!”

Startled, Sa Won-yang broke off his attack on Hwa Yeong-bin and had no choice but to block it.

KWA-A-A-ANG!

When his sweeping hand met it, a massive explosion erupted.

It was a Qi Orb.

The very same technique Sa Won-yang had used earlier….

Blocking the Qi Orb, Sa Won-yang snarled through a twisted face.

“Who dares?!”

A voice answered.

“Who else would it be? Isn’t this the true Sa Won-yang? So the Masked Demon Lord was hiding here!”

On the Righteous Chivalry Guild’s wall stood a middle-aged Taoist in blue robes with a clean, clear-cut mien.

Seeing him, Hwa Yeong-bin shouted in surprise.

“Sect Head?!”

Huh? Sect Head?

Then that was Taoist Cheong Myeong, the head of the Qingcheng Sect?

Sa Won-yang also spoke his name with a contorted expression.

“Cheong Myeong, you—”

“To trespass north of the front line—your game ends here, Masked Demon Lord.”

At his words, figures in blue robes began appearing along the wall one after another.

They were Qingcheng Sect experts.

Hwa Yeong-bin muttered, a bit nonplussed.

“How is the Sect Head here?”

By Hwa Yeong-bin’s account, he was aligned with the Martial Alliance and, after joining the Great Righteous–Blood War, had become Qingcheng’s head with the Alliance’s backing.

So Hwa Yeong-bin had expected him to oppose attacking the Righteous Chivalry Guild.

Which was why he could only be baffled to find the man personally descending on it now.

But I thought I could guess what was going on.

I sent Hwa Yeong-bin a sound-transmission.

— Looks like the Martial Alliance sent a dispatch. Same situation as with the Emei Sect. That’s why they got here so fast.

With bloodshot eyes, Sa Won-yang burst into wild laughter.

“Kehahahaha! You think Sa Won-yang would fall to the likes of Qingcheng?! I’ll take you all as companions to the Yellow Springs!”

Then another voice rang out from behind.

“If Qingcheng isn’t enough—how about us?!”

I turned. More figures had appeared atop the opposite wall.

This time they wore green.

Hwa Yeong-bin murmured again, startled:

“The Tang Clan?”

The Tang Clan—of course, the Sichuan Tang Clan.

Come to think of it, Emei, Qingcheng, and Tang had all taken part in the Great Righteous–Blood War.

It seemed the Alliance’s influence reached all three.

In any case, it was fortunate.

Thanks to them, we might live.

I used the moment—Sa Won-yang’s attention divided—to dart away.

Pa-ang!

I snatched up Hwa Yeong-bin and sped toward the Qingcheng side, whispering to him:

“It seems Heaven has not yet permitted your arrival, Hero Hwa.”

It was what I had wanted to say to a man who’d looked almost relieved to let his life end.

He stared at me blankly for a moment, then gave a faint smile.

“…Is that so?”

Even as Sa Won-yang watched us draw away, he couldn’t act.

With Qingcheng and Tang masters pressing from both sides, he was pinned.

A man who looked to be the Tang Clan’s leader shouted:

“Sa Won-yang! Resistance is pointless! Surrender quietly!”

But Sa Won-yang, as if burning the last of his strength, flared crimson energy from his hands and roared:

“Don’t make me laugh! Righteous fools! You think this Venerable one can be taken by the likes of you?!”

The Tang representative met Taoist Cheong Myeong’s eye and said:

“If punishment is what you desire, so be it. Fine! We’ll grant your wish!”

Then he sprang, shifting to ring Sa Won-yang.

Tap!

The other Tang experts and Qingcheng elites did the same, moving with nimble bodies to encircle him.

All told, perhaps a hundred between Qingcheng and Tang.

And by the look of them, several on both sides were masters near Sa Won-yang’s level.

A dead end.

It now seemed impossible for Sa Won-yang to break out.

But amazingly, it still wasn’t over.

“Sa! Won! yang!”

With a voice that shook the earth, someone streaked in like a meteor out of the far night sky.

A man of such bulk he vaguely recalled Bae Jonggwan.

But no—no one with this crushing aura was Bae.

And then I remembered where I’d heard that voice—at the front.

No… could it be?!

He crossed a staggering distance like a red meteor and dropped straight toward Sa Won-yang, bellowing:

“You dared betray the Supreme One! Unforgivable!”

His gigantic body looked like a crimson meteor itself.

A vast, red circular film sheathed him.

“That is….”

If my eyes weren’t lying, his entire body was wrapped in Protective Body Qi—the same technique Sa Won-yang had barely managed a moment ago.

I murmured without meaning to:

“Good lord….”

Sa Won-yang’s eyes blew wide as he stared at the falling meteor.

He hastily lashed up with a giant crimson hand to swat it aside, shouting:

“What—?!”

But the giant, encased in qi-armor, crashed through and drove a single punch.

An act like divine retribution.

Thoom.

That massive, overwhelming strike hammered Sa Won-yang—and the very ground beneath his feet.

The next instant, a cataclysmic blast erupted.

KWA-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-ANG!

A tympanum-ripping roar, the earth flipping, the ground shuddering like an earthquake, a typhoon of blast-pressure— we had to crouch as low as possible not to be blown away.

“Urgh!”

“T-to this extent?!”

When at last we lowered the hands shielding our faces and looked—

We could only mutter again.

“Good lord….”

Where Sa Won-yang and the giant had collided, a vast crater had formed as if a meteor had fallen.

At its center stood the giant alone, arms folded, unruffled.

Sa Won-yang was nowhere in sight.

But instinctively, we knew.

The smear of blood and flesh pressed into the earth at the giant’s feet—

—that was Sa Won-yang.

We were past words.

A wall we could not surmount no matter what we tried—felled in a single move—

It wasn’t just unbelievable; it left us hollow.

Taoist Cheong Myeong, the Qingcheng Sect Head, swallowed and breathed the name:

“Iron-Body Mad Demon… Cheok Gang?”

Yes.

It was Cheok Gang, the Blood Cult’s Demon Lord who, at the Righteous–Demonic Summit, had nearly flattened the entire Flying Dragon Thirteenth Corps with aura alone.

He was one of the Five Demonic Lords of the Demonic Sect—and a monster counted among the Thirty-Six Stars, just beneath the fifteen absolutes.

He had crossed the front to appear here.

A middle-aged man with a jade-polished face—seemingly the Tang Clan’s lord—shouted grimly:

“Cheok Gang! You too, here—so the Blood Cult finally shows its true colors!”

According to Hwa Yeong-bin, he was Tang Clan Patriarch Tang Jeonghu, titled the Poison-Dark Sovereign.

But even as the man spoke, Cheok Gang only cast him a haughty, downward glance.

As if to ask: And what will you do?

Then an answer came.

Not Cheok Gang’s voice—someone else’s.

“You misunderstand. This is what you might call a dispatch—to apprehend traitors to our Blood Cult.”

As that voice spoke, a masked figure in black rose smoothly out of Cheok Gang’s shadow.

Even I couldn’t help but start.

I had felt the auras of others—Qingcheng, Tang, even Cheok Gang—to some degree.

But this newcomer’s presence I had not sensed at all.

Even seeing him now, it felt like looking at a mirage.

A ghost with no sense of existence.

I swallowed from tension and asked:

“Who in the world is that…?”

Before Hwa Yeong-bin could answer, the Poison-Dark Sovereign Tang Jeonghu cried the name in shock:

“Nine Abyssal Yin Demon, Gi Eum?!”

Gi Eum—the Nine Abyssal Yin Demon?

Heavens.

Gi Eum was one of the Blood Cult’s Five Demonic Lords alongside Cheok Gang.

He was also one of the world’s Three Supreme Assassins.

Two of the Thirty-Six Stars belonging to the Blood Cult now stood here.

Tang Jeonghu shouted, face burning with anger:

“Cheok Gang and Gi Eum—does the Blood Cult truly want another Great Righteous–Blood War?!”

Gi Eum bowed with impeccable courtesy and replied:

“As I just said—no. The Supreme Blood Demon received word from the Alliance Strategist Zhuge Jigang that defectors from our cult had slipped past the front and were sowing chaos. Incensed, he dispatched us personally to clean it up. This has been coordinated with Strategist Zhuge Jigang—verify it if you wish.”

“…What?”

At the claim of coordination with Zhuge Jigang, the Qingcheng and Tang people traded startled looks.

“With Strategist Zhuge—coordinated?”

“With those fiends?”

So Zhuge Jigang indeed had a covert line to the Blood Cult.

But something was off.

To say that so openly? In front of this many witnesses?

As the warriors murmured, the Nine Abyssal Yin Demon Gi Eum bowed again to the assembled leaders and asked:

“The Blood Demon commanded that the ringleader, Sa Won-yang, must be executed, but that dealing with the rest should be done only with the orthodox side’s consent. We therefore intend to erase this ‘Righteous Chivalry Guild’—what say you? May we tidy this place and all who belong to it?”

I could only marvel at his courteous question.

Not just because he spoke of wiping out the guild as if tidying his yard.

Cheok Gang’s killing of Sa Won-yang would look to anyone like the Blood Demon cutting off a tail.

And it likely was.

Yet by offering the choice to the orthodox side, Gi Eum wordlessly showed they were merely executing a traitor—not trimming a tail.

Of course, they could do so only because they were certain no tail could be grasped now.

Tang Jeonghu stared daggers at Gi Eum and spat:

“No need. We of Sichuan’s orthodox will settle the rest with our own hands.”

Gi Eum bowed again.

“Understood. Then we shall take our leave.”

He then addressed Cheok Gang, who still swept the orthodox with a dissatisfied gaze.

“I trust you have not forgotten the Supreme One’s command. Let us go.”

At the mention of the Blood Demon, Cheok Gang flinched faintly, nodded, dipped his shoulders, and shot into the night sky.

Puh-eong!

Like when he first appeared, he became a crimson meteor and streaked away.

While everyone’s eyes were briefly stolen by that violent leap, the Nine Abyssal Yin Demon Gi Eum had already vanished.

Truly, a ghost.

Once they were gone, Tang Jeonghu turned to Taoist Cheong Myeong.

“You must be weary from such a long journey, Taoist Cheong Myeong. The Tang Clan has a branch hall nearby—shall we rest there before we discuss matters?”

Cheongmyeong Jin-in replied with a kindly smile, as if he had been waiting:

“Heh-heh-heh. How could the head of Qingcheng rest when a Qingcheng disciple has labored so for Sichuan’s safety? I’m fine.”

Saying so, he looked to Hwa Yeong-bin.

The “Qingcheng disciple” in his words clearly meant Hwa.

Tang Jeonghu gave a thin smile.

“Hmm. Word across Sichuan is that Hero Hwa and Taoist Cheong Myeong do not see eye to eye. You suddenly emphasize your standing as sect head—that’s… surprising.”

“Heh-heh! When has the martial world not brimmed with idle rumors? Our opinions may differ—but how could our hearts for Qingcheng differ?”

For all the smiling, the air between them felt fierce.

I needed a moment to read the meanings beneath their words.

So when the Tang lord said “long journey,” he was really saying this area was Tang territory and thus they have first claim over the Righteous Chivalry Guild’s domain. And when Taoist Cheong Myeong brought up Hwa Yeong-bin, he meant that since a Qingcheng disciple exposed the guild’s Blood Cult ties, Qingcheng had priority?

In short, the instant Cheok Gang and Gi Eum left, both sides bared their greed for the guild’s turf.

All thoughts of Zhuge Jigang’s Blood Cult dealings, the Emei disciples who had died, and the abducted women—set aside.

A weight pressed on my chest.

I glanced over the Qingcheng and Tang retinues.

Roughly a hundred warriors in all; by the look of it, over thirty on each side were peak-class experts.

And their level was stunning.

Beyond their leaders trading barbs, two or three on each side radiated a presence nearing Sa Won-yang’s.

Truly, forces befitting pillars of the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Houses.

And yet…

I recalled when the Iron-Body Mad Demon Cheok Gang appeared.

That imperious presence—alone—looking down on this entire gathering of mighty warriors.

However brief, the emotion both sides had revealed toward him had been plain: fear.

A hollow laugh escaped me.

“Ha… haha.”

I had thought that reaching the peak realm would let us mount meaningful pressure on the Blood Cult….

But the more time passed, the more bitterly I felt how absurd that hope had been.

The world seen from first-rate differed this much from the world seen from the peak.

And I asked myself:

Could I truly change the future?