Chapter 289: A Belated Opportunity (4) |
After stepping a bit further in, information about the Fire Centipede was easy to come by.
“The Thousand Poison Gate, is it?”
“They’re not called that anymore. Now, it’s the Centipede Gate.”
“Still, it’s a sect founded by survivors of the Thousand Poison Gate, isn’t it?”
“That’s true, but… it seems their disposition is quite different from the Thousand Poison Gate we know.”
“Indeed. That’s a fair point.”
According to the merchants they met deep in Yunnan, Centipede Gate was a fledgling sect established by survivors of the Thousand Poison Gate, centered around the girl from the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace who had tamed the Fire Centipede.
Calling them “survivors” of the Thousand Poison Gate might be generous—in truth, they were a loose gathering of servants or martial artists of second- or third-rate level who had once worked under the sect.
Even a first-rate martial artist could start a small sect in the countryside. Once someone reached Peak Stage, they were called a master and welcomed wherever they went.
Only those who weren’t skilled enough to go elsewhere, and who bore the infamy of the Thousand Poison Gate, had banded together out of desperation.
While they were hated for their past ties to the Thousand Poison Gate, Centipede Gate itself didn’t have a bad reputation…
“Well, of course. They were never part of the core group to begin with.”
“Exactly, right?”
In orthodox sects, even those with low martial prowess were cherished as fellow members. But in the unorthodox world, weaklings were little more than laborers.
They did what they were told, got beaten if they failed, and were grateful for whatever scraps of martial arts they were tossed…
Wasn’t that just like his own childhood?
And the Thousand Poison Gate was more vicious than most unorthodox sects. Surely, not a few of its members had only joined to survive.
Centipede Gate was a sect formed by such people. While they weren’t righteous enough to be called orthodox, they were undoubtedly much milder than the Thousand Poison Gate.
“That's a relief.”
“Relief, you say?”
“If Centipede Gate had turned out to be another Thousand Poison Gate, we might’ve had to talk with our swords instead of words.”
“…But didn’t you say you wanted to meet the Beast Palace Lord through the Centipede Gate leader?”
“That’s true, but if they’re connected to those who tried to harm you, Tang Sowol, then rooting them out comes first.”
“Oh my~?”
Tang Sowol giggled in satisfaction at his reply and promptly latched onto his arm with a smile.
Then Seo Mun-Hwarin, poking him in the side as if expecting something, asked:
“By the way, do you remember how to get to the Thousand Poison Gate? I’ve forgotten over time.”
“Well, of course that could happen.”
“…That tone felt a bit rude. Was that just this lady’s imagination?”
“Yes, of course. No way would I suggest something as awful as you becoming forgetful due to your age.”
“What did you say?!”
Outraged, Seo Mun-Hwarin began pinching his side. Naturally, it hurt—but the reaction gave him a strange satisfaction deep in his chest.
Why was teasing Seo Mun-Hwarin so enjoyable?
Suppressing the unanswerable mystery, he gently tapped her hand until she let go.
“In any case, I do remember the path to the Thousand Poison Gate. Don’t worry.”
“But you were in a state of qi deviation. I just asked because I was concerned your memory might be unclear, and yet you reply so cruelly…”
“How could that be cruel? Senior Seo Mun-Hwarin, you're in your prime. It was just a simple jest.”
“…Do you really think so?”
Her once grumbling lips grew quiet, and she asked with a hint of hopeful anticipation.
Letting out a small laugh, he nodded.
“Of course. And precisely because I was in a state of qi deviation, I remember things more clearly. I think I become more sensitive in that state.”
“Ah, ahh…”
Whatever she recalled, Seo Mun-Hwarin turned blank in shock. He grinned and picked up the pace, stepping to the front.
If Centipede Gate wasn't as cruel as the Thousand Poison Gate had been, perhaps the discussion might go smoothly.
Centipede Gate itself was located near the old grounds of the Thousand Poison Gate, and they found it quickly.
It was more like a large house than a proper sect compound, though the gate bore a plaque that properly read “Centipede Gate.”
Given that martial artists required training grounds, sect buildings had to be larger than normal houses.
In that sense, Centipede Gate was no more than a back-alley shop in terms of scale.
They didn’t seem to have the capacity to maintain it either—the main gate was intact, but the nearby walls were in poor condition.
For some reason, the scene reminded him of the Ironblood Hall, and a strange wave of sympathy washed over him.
With unusual care, he knocked on the gate.
“Is anyone there?”
There was a clatter from inside, and after a moment, the gate creaked open.
A skinny young man appeared. Judging by his frame, it wasn’t his natural physique—he had clearly lost weight from lack of food.
With a voice full of caution, the man spoke.
“Oh. Who are you? If you’re from the Cheonghwa Merchant Guild, there’s still time before the repayment deadline, so please come back another day—”
“Cheonghwa Guild? I don’t know the details, but I’m not from them. I’m here to speak with your sect leader about the Fire Centipede.”
“You’re here to buy the Sect Leader’s poison?”
“…You could say it’s something like that.”
When he nodded, the man finally began to examine the group carefully.
Then he sighed, seemingly relieved, and swung the gate wide open.
“Apologies for the poor reception. Our sect hasn’t been doing too well lately.”
“I understand. Newly formed sects always have a lot of expenses.”
Sometimes, if there wasn’t enough capital or someone skilled in administration, a new sect would go under within a year.
He chuckled lightly and waved a hand to show it was no big deal. Only then did the man give a faint smile in return.
“Thank you. You’re here for the Sect Leader, right? I’ll let her know right away. Please wait in the reception room.”
“No trouble at all.”
He shrugged and followed the bony youth further inside.
Due to the small size of the place, they encountered other sect members almost immediately.
One of them seemed to recognize him.
Sweaty and tired from training, the man bore a strong presence of a diligent martial artist—but the moment he saw his face…
“S-Sword Demon…!”
His face turned deathly pale.
Having already lost weight from poor nutrition, the sudden blood drain made him look like a walking corpse.
Well, this reaction made sense. He must’ve been involved with the Thousand Poison Gate in the past.
Putting on the most harmless expression he could, he raised both hands.
“Calm down. I’m just here to talk—”
“E-everyone, run!”
He fled before the sentence was even finished.
Sighing deeply, he followed in the direction the man had run, and soon found himself in a strange space that was part training ground, part vegetable patch.
It seemed they were growing some food to help survive.
As he chuckled at the unexpected poverty, the panicked man waved his arms and shouted to the other sect members in the courtyard.
And one by one, the members of Centipede Gate turned to look at him.
“It’s the Sword Demon! The butcher is back!”
“Protect the Sect Leader!”
“Who even opened the gate?!”
“Who cares?! That monster could’ve just cut it down and barged in anyway!”
The Sword Demon, was it? Perhaps because Yunnan lagged behind on news, the nickname White Moon Sword Lord hadn’t reached here yet.
…Or maybe the memory of him wiping out the Thousand Poison Gate was so vivid that no one could recall his newer title.
Fear spread like wildfire.
Yet, none of them tried to flee. Though he was blocking the entrance, the walls were low enough to leap over—if they’d wanted to.
The reason became immediately clear.
—Ssshhk.
A sharp hiss, like wind leaking through clenched teeth.
From behind the crowd, a massive shadow rose up.
It was at least twice his height, its entire body clad in armor-like plates, and its bladed limbs were as sharp as swords.
But the most striking feature was the intricate pattern adorning its carapace.
Seven distinct colors blended together in a mystical harmony that was difficult to describe.
It was so beautiful that if someone claimed a piece of that shell was a jewel, you’d believe them without question.
Yet the venom dripping from its jaws warned that removing such a “gem” would be no easy task.
“The Fire Centipede.”
“Yes. It’s my first time seeing one, but it is beautiful.”
“Then that must be the Centipede Gate Sect Leader.”
Beside the giant centipede stood a young woman, glaring this way with wide eyes.
He didn’t know her name—but the composed, otherworldly energy she emitted was far beyond the other sect members.
No doubt a result of having trained in the Beast Palace’s advanced martial arts. She may have been exiled, but she had been the daughter of the Beast Palace Lord.
Her cultivation was only at first-rate level, but the Fire Centipede clearly harbored power at the Peak Stage or higher. So she had tamed a spirit beast stronger than herself.
Impressive, he had to admit.
But perhaps misunderstanding the direction of his gaze, the Centipede Gate members huddled closer together, shielding their Sect Leader and the Fire Centipede with their bodies.
And they cried out—
“The sins of the Thousand Poison Gate rest on us alone! The Sect Leader has nothing to do with it!”
“Not a single finger shall be laid on her!”
“W-Were you deceiving us…?!”
They all stood with grim determination, as if prepared to die.
Even the young man who had guided them here was now giving him a betrayed look, despite their brief acquaintance.
It felt odd to say it himself, but…
It was quite a solemn scene.
The half-collapsed buildings, the martial artists too frail from hunger, yet still standing up to resist overwhelming power.
Why did it remind him so strongly of the sects that had been wiped out one by one by the Heavenly Demon before his regression?
He hesitated, unsure of what to say. Then Seol Lihyang placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear.
“Cheon Hwi. Right now, you really look like some demon lord from the unorthodox sects.”
“I haven’t even done anything.”
“Exactly. And that’s why it suits you so well.”
…This was getting ridiculous.
Shaking his head, he stepped forward and forced a smile at the Centipede Gate members.
Clang!
In response, they all drew their weapons.
Unbelievable. There’s a saying that you can’t spit in a smiling face, but apparently, you can draw a sword at one.
He spoke with a hint of exasperation.
“…You’ve misunderstood.”
At that, an elderly man hobbled forward with a cane. Judging by his lack of inner energy, he had likely once been a servant.
Maybe his sincerity finally got through.
“We know that the Blood Flame Sword Demon could easily slaughter all of us. But… there are things that must be protected, even so.”
…No. It clearly hadn’t gotten through.
“I’ll say it again. I didn’t come here to shed blood. I came to talk. About the Fire Centipede, and your Sect Leader.”
“If you want to touch our Sect Leader, you’ll have to cut down every last one of us first!”
That might’ve sounded heroic, but their trembling legs told a different story.
Now that he looked, he realized they were so terrified and overwhelmed that they couldn’t even process what he was saying. They were just repeating the lines they had prepared in advance.
“…Guess there’s no choice.”
With resolve, he drew his sword.
They all clenched their eyes shut, certain that death was upon them—
Slice.
He only cut down their weapons—cleaving them cleanly in half.
With a cacophony of metallic clanging, swords and spears scattered across the floor.
As the members of Centipede Gate slowly opened their eyes in confusion, he spoke.
“If you don’t want to die, drop your weapons. Bring me some warm tea, and I’ll spare your lives.”
Thud, thud.
Finally, weapons were dropped, and resistance melted away.
Honestly, why did people only start listening when things got to this point?