Chapter 19: Bloodline (2)

Bloodline Pavilion (Hyeolyeongak) was one of the factions based in Chengdu.

They weren’t just simple-minded thugs— they had a reputation as a proper (sect of the unorthodox path).

To be precise, it would be more accurate to describe them as a business organization made up of gangsters.

While orthodox sects valued face and upheld lofty ideals like chivalry and righteousness, unorthodox sects cared only for their own survival.

And what would such people use martial arts for?

Naturally, they’d use it to plunder and exploit others.

Forcing nearby merchant groups into mergers and extorting tribute,

running gambling dens like martial arts betting arenas to rake in money,

or gathering destitute courtesans to operate brothels—

their methods were truly varied.

No matter how strong the oppressor was, it didn’t make their actions any less repulsive.

It was no accident that unorthodox factions were called heretical paths or the underworld.

Because of this, the size of a faction’s headquarters usually reflected just how much they had exploited others— and Bloodline Pavilion’s compound was quite large by those standards.

Cheongun leisurely made his way through the rear courtyard of the estate.

“Wow, they’ve really squeezed a lot out of people.”

He muttered in a sarcastic tone.

To an outsider, it might look less like the headquarters of an intelligence organization and more like the estate of a martial arts sect.

The grand and imposing structure was reminiscent of the Righteous Alliance’s branch headquarters on Mount Cheongseongsan.

Well, it wasn’t entirely impossible if this were a branch of the Demon Cult… but regardless, this scale of construction wouldn’t have been possible unless they had been exploiting others quite ruthlessly.

“Orthodox sects also collect protection money, don’t they?”

“Do they extort it by force like you guys?”

“……”

Before Jin Cheonwoo could choose his words, Cheongun continued.

“Hey, Black Murder Sword.”

“…It’s Black Slaughter Sword.”

“From now on, you’re going to guide me to where the pavilion master is.”

Jin Cheonwoo blinked stupidly.

Guide him where?

And now this bastard was outright speaking informally to him.

“Why are you looking for the pavilion master?”

“I’m the only one who asks questions. Lead the way.”

“No, logically speaking, if you tell me to guide you, shouldn’t I say ‘Yes, sir!’ and do it? We’re technically part of the same organization, aren’t we? Even if I’m not well-educated, do you think I lack that much loyalty?”

“Oh, loyalty. That’s cool.”

“Ahem, ahem.”

Jin Cheonwoo wiped his nose.

Cheongun smiled amiably, which was out of character for him, and asked:

“Alright. Then, any last words?”

“Huh?”

“I’m asking if you have any last words. Since you’re so cool, I’m giving you a special chance.”

Jin Cheonwoo seemed to immediately grasp the meaning behind his words.

Loyalty was fine, but dying was another matter.

In an instant, Jin Cheonwoo made his decision and stepped forward with a bold expression.

“Follow me. I’ll guide you.”

“What, no loyalty? You trash?”

“Come to think of it, we’ve never really had a proper conversation before.”

“Oh? Then lead the way.”

“Yes, yes.”

Lunatic. Crazy bastard. Son of a bitch.

Swallowing his curses, Jin Cheonwoo led the way.

“Can I ask just one thing?”

“What?”

“I truly don’t understand what you’re thinking, young hero, but wouldn’t it be best to turn back now?”

“Turn back? Why the hell would I? Why would I leave a place like this? Stop spouting nonsense and lead the way properly. Where’s the Blood Lotus Sect’s headquarters?”

“No, what exactly do you plan to do going there alone? Do you have any idea how heavily guarded it is? It’s not like you came here to wage war all by yourself—”

At those words, Cheongun, who had been staring blankly, replied.

“Actually…”

“Huh?”

“You’re right. I did come to wage war.”

Cheongun smirked.

Did they really think he came here just to sightsee?

The reason he had stubbornly refused and finally sent Namgung Yul back— despite her desperate pleas to follow— was because, from the very beginning, he had come to end this once and for all.

“Are… are you insane?”

Cheongun adjusted his grip on his sword.

Jin Cheonwoo quickly added,

“…Do you at least have a plan?”

“A plan? Why would I need that?”

“You wouldn’t just walk into the heart of enemy territory, swarming with masters, without some kind of plan, right?”

A plan? Nah, don’t have one.

Why would I need something like that?

Just look around!

How many batteries— no, martial masters— were there?

Everywhere he looked, martial masters.

Over there?

More martial masters.

The entire world around him was filled with martial masters.

Every time he brushed past them, his nerves tingled, his dantian buzzed with energy— it was so exhilarating that even the legendary Mannyeonseolsam (Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng) couldn’t compare.

If he could just grasp enlightenment in this state, wouldn’t he be able to reach that fabled realm of Hwangol Taltae (Shedding the Mortal Shell)?

Ah, this was precious.

How could he even think of leaving now?

“I’m not confident.”

“Right?”

“No, I’m confident I won’t lose.”

“……”

Jin Cheonwoo was on the verge of losing his mind.

This brat— no, this lunatic— was completely unpredictable.

He had only brought him here because Cheongun threatened to kill him if he didn’t guide him to the Blood Lotus Sect.

But if it got out that he had led a wanted madman into their stronghold, even he wouldn’t escape punishment.

Yet he couldn’t just drive him away now.

If he screamed, “I’m being threatened by this bastard! Help!” and Cheongun retaliated by killing only him before escaping, what a pointless death that would be.

‘Damn it, I’m really losing my mind.’

Jin Cheonwoo was sharp.

How sharp?

Sharp enough to climb to his current position with mediocre martial skills— relying solely on his keen instincts.

He had always navigated dangerous situations somehow.

All thanks to his sharp intuition.

And right now, for some reason, he had a bad feeling— like Cheongun was about to do something insane.

“Sigh, follow me this way.”

“Sure.”

After walking for about an hour…

Jin Cheonwoo had unknowingly arrived at the gates of Geumjeon.

Above the peeling red lacquered doors hung a wooden plaque that read, “Residence of the Pavilion Master.”

This was Geumjeon, where the Pavilion Master resided.

Knock, knock, knock!

Hesitantly, Jin Cheonwoo stepped forward and rapped on the gate.

After a moment, the door creaked open slightly, and a man peeked his head through the gap.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s Jin Cheonwoo.”

The man scrutinized Jin Cheonwoo’s face carefully.

“And who’s that?”

“What? You don’t recognize me? Jin Cheonwoo, the Black Death Blade.”

“Black Death Blade? Is that supposed to be your title or something?”

“Damn it.”

Grumbling under his breath, Jin Cheonwoo pulled out an identification token.

“Ah, so you’re one of ours.”

“……”

“New recruit? Come on in.”

The man nodded after verifying the token and opened the gate wider.

Cheongun, who had been silently observing, patted Jin Cheonwoo’s shoulders with both hands as he walked past.

“Hang in there.”

“……”

……For some reason, Jin Cheonwoo felt even more irritated.

Cheongun, sword already drawn, leaped past the gate and stepped inside.

The interior of Geumjeon unfolded before his eyes.

A long, straight pathway stretched down the center, and at its end stood an ornately decorated throne-like chair.

Seated atop it with a bored expression was a woman.

She was unmistakably the Pavilion Master.

On either side of the pathway, rows of men who looked like bandits stood lined up— there had to be at least several dozen of them.

Jin Cheon-woo, who had entered belatedly, whispered to Cheongun in a voice only he could hear.

“That woman is Hyeolyeon Pavilion Master, Hyeolyeon Geomjon.”

“I know.”

Cheongun nodded faintly without realizing it.

Her face looked familiar.

Though she was now the Hyeolyeon Pavilion Master, in the future, she would become the leader of one of the Heavenly Demon Sect’s three major intelligence organizations— the Blood Demon Corps.

There was a demonic art known as the Sik Yusaeng Hon Gong (Soul-Devouring Infant Art).

It was a sinister technique that involved consuming the flesh— specifically the life essence— of young children to enhance one’s inner energy.

This wretched woman had abducted countless children in her pursuit of mastering it.

“Her martial prowess aside, she’s the one who schemed her way into killing the previous Pavilion Master and taking his seat.”

“Oh?”

“She’s exceptionally skilled at manipulating people with her silver tongue. Take care— or don’t, whatever.”

Cheongun blinked.

Was this guy… actually worried about him?

What a laughable fellow.

Just then, Hyeolyeon Pavilion Master Wi Yeonghwa spoke.

“And who might you two be?”

“Are you the Hyeolyeon Pavilion Master?”

“I asked first, you fool. Well, no need to answer. Seeing your face, I remember now. You’re the one Haomen issued a bounty for not long ago. What was your name again? Cheongun, was it?”

So it’s you.

Finally found you.

“How dare you crawl into this place on your own two feet? You must be completely out of your mind.”

As soon as those words were spoken, a torrent of obscenities poured from both sides.

Cheong-un stood quietly and listened to them.

Threats of stabbing, dismembering, or turning his pretty face into that of a male prostitute— all the colorful encouragements unique to the underworld rained down.

Amid the chaos, Hyeolyeon Hakju was secretly moving her fingertips, preparing a silent attack.

While buying time by running her mouth, a bluish energy began to rise like mist between her fingers.

Jin Cheonwoo swallowed hard as he watched Cheongun standing still.

He had walked in with such confidence, so why was he just standing there blankly, doing nothing?

Could he have been intimidated by the atmosphere?

‘Be wary of psychological warfare.’

Just as he was about to utter those words—

“!!!”

In an instant, Cheongun disappeared.

Only a faint swirl of dust remained where he had been standing.

As they looked around in bewilderment—

Crunch!

A sound like an eggshell being crushed echoed from somewhere.

Jin Cheonwoo jolted and raised his head.

Cheongun was now standing beside Hakju.

Except for one peculiar detail— the head of Hakju, who had been sitting with such dignity just moments ago, was gone.

No, to be precise, it was rolling on the ground, spurting blood.

Swoosh—!

Cheongun slowly sheathed his sword, his face expressionless.

Drops of crimson blood slid down the blade and dripped to the ground.

He looked at the stunned men and spoke calmly.

“Hyeolyeon Geomjon Wi Yeonghwa is dead.”

“……”

“From now on, I am the Hyeolyeon Hakju.”

“……”