Chapter 161 : Ming Cult Leader

Ming ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍Cult Leader

Jeong-un witnessed his foe raising that shield of true ki once again.

The internal energy gathered in the left hand vividly assumed the shape of a shield.

If it had been just moments before, in the heat of battle against the Blood Lord, he might have tried to maneuver and exploit the gap that shield could not cover.

But not now.

In that fleeting instant, as the battle raged and blows were exchanged, he attained enlightenment.

It was just as he had envisioned when he first took up the sword.

At last, he had reached the realm where he no longer relied on formalized moves to wield his sword.

The moment he shattered the framework of techniques in his mind, the secrets of Traceless Flash, Jeok Cheong Subdues the Dragon, and Immortal Points The Way melded together without boundaries.

Structure vanished, leaving nothing but unrestrained sword strikes.

He realized that every moment he extended his sword for a move was both the invention and dissolution of a new move.

The next strike to emerge from his hand would likewise be a completely new form—a new sword move in itself.

In this way, the flow of true ki he had once channeled rigidly through patterned swordplay became completely transformed.

It was as if his limitations had been lifted, and a torrent of internal energy gushed into the black sword gripped in his palm.

Then, the golden radiance embedded in the black sword exploded, wrapping around and enveloping the blade.

The gold formed a boundary in the air, outlining the sword blade with startling clarity.

Now, there was nothing he could not sever.

The moment he had that thought, he was already swinging his sword right before the Blood Lord's nose.

And right then, the Ming Cult Leader unleashed a surprise surge of enhanced energy toward his adversary—a strike as swift as a flash.

The startled Blood Lord instinctively attempted to widen the shield of true ki, pouring more internal energy into it, and in doing so, destroyed the delicate balance holding the shield together.

Thus, Jeong-un swung his sword, tearing through the foe's shield of true ki and severing his neck.

For someone who'd commanded thousands beneath him as a peerless expert, his end was pitifully empty.

He died just like that, unable to utter even a single word.

"Well now, this has become troublesome,"

the Ming Cult Leader's voice came from the side.

"At this rate, I'll have ended up helping a youngster from the orthodox faction by cutting down one of my own, an unorthodox comrade."

Was he being wary of the golden sword Jeong-un gripped? He had already put ample distance between them.

"Well, it was your lot who arbitrarily decided the distinction between right and wrong, after all."

Whoosh!

Silently, Jeong-un roused his internal energy.

The instant ki waves rose from his body like a mirage, a surge of bursting energy at his heels tore the ground as he instantly shot forward, arriving right in front of the Ming Cult Leader.

Swoosh!

Moonlight Swift Steps was a body cultivation art that perfectly mirrored its master's growth.

Once his sword technique had shattered the mold of structured moves, the flow of true ki became freer, and his body's movements swifter as a result.

That was all there was to it.

Boom!

The spot where the Ming Cult Leader had been standing was blown apart.

Jeong-un cleaved down with a sword strike at a tremendous speed he'd never dared attempt before. Yet, he felt nothing in his hand.

He had missed once again.

"It's true this body cultivation art of his is strange. Still..."

Jeong-un turned his head calmly, fixing his gaze on the Ming Cult Leader.

Drip.

A trail of crimson blood ran down the Ming Cult Leader's brow.

The sword had come down vertically at immense speed, grazing his head before smashing into the ground.

In Jeong-un's view, his opponent's movement technique was supremely masterful.

It could even rival Shaolin's body arts. He moved as if he could anticipate the opponent's attacks.

And yet, he hadn't been able to completely avoid that last strike.

"... Strange."

At last, his sword had touched the man.

From the Divine Healer's tomb, to the cliff on Mount Song, until now—this was a first.

But no particular emotion arose.

He only furrowed his brow slightly, recalling the moment when the man evaded Mu Jung's strike.

He also remembered the moment his sword strikes, launched in succession in midair over the cliff, had missed.

"It was oddly different from then."

At that time, he had watched the man's movements up close, yet he couldn't even track the afterimages with his eyes.

"He moved as if folding space itself."

Now, he was still fast, but something felt different. Had his perspective changed after attaining a higher level?

No.

On the contrary, the shift in perspective allowed him certainty—the man was no longer displaying those bizarre movements from before.

Suddenly, Mu Jung's words about the man came to mind.

"He said the man had shrouded himself with a strange technique."

He had likened him to the Demonic Cultists who had appeared decades before, those who had employed arts defying the natural order.

At the time, Jeong-un had only vaguely understood what that meant.

But now, he realized the truth.

Back then, the man had not been using a body cultivation art powered by internal energy, but was employing some strange trick.

Mu Jung had recognized that instantly.

"Whereas now, he's displaying his pure martial arts."

Come to think of it, during his exchange with the Blood Lord, the man had seemed perfectly ordinary—moving with basic footwork, unleashing fists and palms like any martial artist.

Of course, even that was at a peerless level.

Still, it was clearly different from the strange movements he had shown earlier.

Whether due to some limitation, or by deliberate concealment, Jeong-un couldn't tell.

For now, all he could do was observe and judge with his own eyes.

Jeong-un spoke, facing his opponent.

"You move differently. Back then, what technique did you use?"

"Technique? What do you mean?"

"Feigning ignorance, are we?"

"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

The man answered with a sly smile, shooting only a sidelong glance at the Blood Lord's head lying in the dirt.

Without another word, Jeong-un tightened his grip on the sword.

Strictly speaking, he had no shortage of questions for the man—he had more than enough, in fact.

Setting aside that bizarre movement, why did he wear the mask of the Divine Thief to steal the martial world's treasures?

Of all things, why had he targeted the Shaolin brazen bell, worth little more than iron, leaving the others behind?

What did he plan to do with the stolen goods?

And how was all this related to the resurrection of the old Demonic Cult?

Beyond all that—what was his ultimate goal?

And—

"The reason you had me take the Immortal Spirit Pill."

"What?"

"The cultivation pill made by the Divine Healer. Why did you have me ingest it?"

"..."

This was Jeong-un's greatest mystery. No matter how much he pondered, he never found an answer.

The profound internal power now dwelling in his body owed much to that Immortal Spirit Pill.

Above all, it was the trigger for the ill fate that had begun with this man.

Yet the man's reaction was peculiar.

For the first time, he opened his eyes wide with astonishment and let his mouth fall agape—an expression rare for him.

"Had you take it? Me?"

"That time, your obvious goal was to take the Immortal Spirit Pill. I can call your silly game whatever you like, but you could easily have killed me and taken the pill."

"..."

"But when I came to my senses, an immense internal energy had been forcibly accumulated in my dantian. It was such an alien sensation I felt as if someone had stuffed it in me by force. Who else could have done that but you?"

"..."

Even after Jeong-un explained this much, the man said nothing, simply staring with wide eyes.

Jeong-un pressed him again.

"Why no answer?"

"... I've never seen a thief as shameless as you are."

"Back to talking nonsense, eh? If that's your answer, so be it. I never expected truth from your lips anyway."

With that, the man burst into carefree laughter. He seemed genuinely dumbfounded, but Jeong-un could not determine whether it was sincere.

At last, the man spoke.

"This is amusing. To have to speak of that time with my own lips... You really know how to humiliate a man, don't you?"

"...?"

"Well, it's fine. That item would have scattered anyway if not for you. To me, you are a vessel."

"What are you talking about?"

"Not for you to know. My goal is achieved, so it's time for me to go."

Jeong-un raised his lowered sword.

"Going? Don't make me laugh. You think I'll just let you walk?"

"Don't forget my identity."

"...?"

At those words, Jeong-un knit his brows in confusion.

Don't forget his identity? The man continued, smiling.

"Perhaps not as many as the one recently beheaded, but there are many who revere me and wait for the dawn of a new era."

"You..."

"Did you really think I came here alone? By now, your companions are surely facing my subordinates."

"..."

There were already thousands among the Blood Cult's ranks.

If the remnants of the Demonic Cult had joined, the Heavenly Martial Hall warriors would surely suffer greater losses.

Even more concerning was that, unlike the Blood Cult's low-level and second-rate cultists, no one knew what level of martial skills the Demonic Cult's underlings possessed.

Ridiculously, aside from this cult leader, Jeong-un had not seen another Demonic Cultist.

If there were even a few with the skill of the Blood Cult's high priests, the devastation could be enormous.

As Jeong-un fell silent, the man drew a smile at his lips and continued.

"It doesn't matter to me what you choose. If you want to try and capture me, I won't stop you."

"Capture you?"

"You honestly think I'd stand still and take your sword? I'll do my best to escape. Feel free to chase and swing your sword at me. That could be quite entertaining. Or maybe I'll change my mind; perhaps it would be fun to hold you here so you can't reach your friends."

"..."

Jeong-un glared at him in silence, then slowly spoke.

"You'll see me again soon."

The man smiled and replied.

"I'm sure you will. We'll see each other again very soon."

* * *

Fwoosh─!

A huge sword, drenched in blood, swept through the air.

Having already severed three necks, it now hurtled for the solar plexus of another foe.

Spurt!

Yeom Baek promptly yanked the sword from a corpse, spun around, and unleashed a wave of destructive energy at another man.

Yeom Baek's martial arts did not rely on sharpness, but on the tyrannical force of the Tyrant's Path.

As his blade swung in a broad arc, foes' bodies crumbled as if shattered.

"..."

Meanwhile, he swept his eyes across the surroundings.

The men in red garb still surged in like a tidal wave. But he was far from fatigued—their strength was trivial.

Even the last high priest he'd faced moments earlier was not hard to cut down.

After all, expecting even a peerless corps leader to stand alone against four other corps leaders at the peak was impossible.

The enemy had moved atop a strange formation seemingly prepared in advance, showering waves of bursting energy with his fan.

Yet in the end, Yeom Baek had run him through with the Lotus Blossom Divine Sword.

'But it was strange.'

There was no regret on the man's face. He closed his eyes peacefully, as if his mission was accomplished.

Perhaps stalling for time was his real objective all along.

Displeased, Yeom Baek had smashed his head with the Lotus Blossom Divine Sword afterward.

They had penetrated deep into the enemy stronghold, but still saw no sign of the enemy leader.

That was the problem.

No matter how much the orthodox sects spoke of honor and duty, there was no sect willing to march into these mountains, exhaust their strength, and take on the Blood Cult's thousands.

That was why the Heavenly Martial Hall had taken the field.

If left untouched, the Blood Cult would only gather more strength and become a colossal headache.

Besides, the reemergence of the Demonic Cult had just recently been announced.

The source of chaos had to be uprooted before it took deeper hold.

And to wipe out a chilling religious cult like this, eliminating the leader—the pivot—was the top priority.

No matter how great the foe's martial skills, if four corps leaders attacked together, it should have been possible.

Yet, the leader was nowhere to be seen, which was frustrating.

"Who the hell are those guys?"

The Lotus Blossom Divine Sword snapped from his side, likewise drenched in blood.

At the end of that gaze, he spotted men in black garb. They were obviously not warriors of the Heavenly Martial Hall.

Nor were they Blood Cultists. Yet, they attacked with skilled martial arts and great menace.

'This is...'

Total chaos.

"... Let's just cut them all down and think later."

He answered thus, crouching to leap with his dantian packed with true ki—

Fwaaaah─

Suddenly, a burst of gold light descended from the heavens.

Twined with sunlight, it produced an unearthly glow. Naturally, everyone's eyes turned skyward.

Boom─!

Then, as if struck by lightning, a figure plummeted through that light like a thunderbolt, landing with a tremendous surge of bursting energy.

All the Blood Cultists and black-clad men near the impact zone were swept away by the shockwave.

Ssshhhhh.

The tumult of the hall fell suddenly silent.

Raising his head, the figure spoke to Yeom Baek.

"I must apologize for my rude appearance. I came like this because I have urgent news to report."

"...?"

Yeom Baek stared blankly at the face.

At that moment, the Blood Lord's severed head fell from the hand and rolled onto the ground.