Chapter 1717
This time, we’ll wager your neck. (2)
“Agh…”
A suppressed groan escaped from Jo Geol’s lips. He wanted to scream, whether in joy or anger, until his voice gave out, but he couldn’t risk disrupting the energy surrounding Baek Cheon, so he could only silently suffer.
‘That damned bastard!’
However, the only part of his body that remained free, his eyes, were wildly flickering with emotion.
“Chu… Chung Myung!”
Baek Sang, who had been staring blankly at Chung Myung’s back, suddenly sprang to his feet. His face was a twisted mix of relief and resentment.
“You… you bastard. You…”
Without even realizing it, Baek Sang reached out and grabbed Chung Myung by the collar.
“Why… why only now… you bastard!”
He didn’t even know why he was saying it.
Surely, it was a moment to cheer and rejoice. But as soon as Baek Sang saw Chung Myung’s face, an inexplicable sense of sorrow and frustration welled up inside him.
The eyes of Hwasan swordsmen wavered slightly. They couldn’t blame Baek Sang for his feelings, but they also knew that his actions were excessive. Especially in such a tense situation, confronting an enemy, this was certainly not the time for it.
Yet, Chung Myung didn’t get angry at Baek Sang’s overreaction. He simply turned his head silently to look behind him.
He looked past Hwasan and Wudang swordsmen who were holding their swords, towards Baek Cheon and those surrounding him.
“…”
Chung Myung’s gaze deepened, becoming cold and ominous. Wudang swordsmen instinctively took a step back, unnerved by the chilling intensity in his eyes, even though they knew the hostility wasn’t directed at them.
“Chung Myung…”
“Step back, Sasuk.”
Chung Myung’s hand lightly tapped Baek Sang’s shoulder.
“…”
“For now.”
His face, cold and hardened like ice, slowly turned forward.
“Let’s take care of those bastards first.”
The strength left Baek Sang’s grip.
It was only then that he realized what he had just done.
The enemies threatening Baek Cheon were still in front of them, and yet he had acted in such an undignified manner. Perhaps it wasn’t resentment towards Chung Myung, but rather the overwhelming relief that filled his mind the moment Chung Myung appeared.
Chung Myung twirled his sword once and rested it on his shoulder, then gestured with his chin towards the Blood Palace Lord.
“You were quite chatty just a moment ago. Why did you suddenly shut your trap?”
“…”
The bandage-wrapped face of the Blood Palace Lord twisted with anger. The severed bandages unraveled through the gaps between his hands, making his appearance even more eerie.
“You…”
Throb.
Fresh, hot blood trickled down over the dried, dark red blood on his face. As the blood dripped from his chin onto the ground, a chilling blue aura of murderous intent emanated from his eyes.
“Hmph…”
The Blood Palace Lord slowly licked the blood that had soaked into the bandages. As the taste of the stale, dried blood mixed with the tang of fresh blood reached his tongue, his entire body shuddered briefly.
“Hwasan… Geomhyeop?”
His voice was rough, like the sound of scraping a dead tree. But instead of being cautious, Chung Myung sneered.
“It seems like those from beyond the borders are very interested in the Central Plains these days. Even going so far as to know the titles of people they’ve never even met.”
“Keuk keuk.”
The Blood Palace Lord’s eyes turned blood-red.
“You’re quite full of yourself.”
His face contorted with murderous intent.
The strike just now had indeed been impressive. No matter how unexpected the attack was, the fact that he had allowed a blow to his face meant that the swordsman’s skill had reached an extraordinary level.
But that was all.
“You don’t know your place. If you had stayed hidden, you might have kept your head.”
Crunch.
The Blood Palace Lord, radiating murderous intent, slowly advanced towards Chung Myung.
As he approached, the overwhelming aura of malice spread, causing Wudang swordsmen to instinctively shrink back. This was the kind of suffocating pressure that the term ‘having your breath taken away’ was meant for.
It was different, yet not entirely.
Though it was different from the overwhelming, mountainous aura of the Sun Palace Lord they had faced before, the oppressive and sticky malevolence emanating from this man instilled a fear that, in some ways, surpassed even that of the Sun Palace Lord.
However, what truly terrified them was not the aura he emitted.
‘His… face…’
At that moment, Wudang’s disciples saw it.
The face of the Blood Palace Lord, as he lowered his hand. His face, now visible between the severed bandages, was ghastly blue, like that of a corpse, bubbling and seething as if it were boiling.
“That… that…”
The wound from Chung Myung’s sword, a deep cut that had exposed bone, was healing. The change was happening so quickly that it was visible to the naked eye.
‘How…?’
Could this really be possible?
“Did you think anything would change just because you managed to land one strike?”
The eyes of Wudang’s disciples filled with shock and disbelief.
As the Blood Palace Lord took those few steps forward, the torn flesh on his face filled in, and the skin writhed and shifted. The sight was so incomprehensible that it evoked both nausea and terror simultaneously.
Even though the martial arts of the outer regions were known to differ from those of the Central Plains, could this really be considered martial arts?
‘Is this… even possible?’
It was already difficult enough to withstand the aura he emitted, but now to see him healing his wounds instantly with such dark arts – it was beyond belief.
Could even Hwasan’s greatest swordsman, Hwasan Geomhyeop, truly handle such a monster?
Unable to find an answer in Chung Myung’s back, Wudang swordsmen instinctively turned their heads to look at Hwasan’s disciples. What they saw made their eyes widen in astonishment.
‘No…’
There wasn’t a single hint of doubt on any of the faces of the numerous Hwasan’s disciples.
They believed, without the slightest hesitation. No matter who the opponent was, no matter how powerful they might be, they believed there was no one Chung Myung couldn’t handle.
The unwavering faith they displayed left Wudang swordsmen stunned.
Could they ever show such trust? Even if the person was their own Sect Leader, Heo Do Jinin, or Heo Gong, could they place such complete and utter faith in them?
Which was it? Were Hwasan’s disciples foolishly blind in their devotion, or was Hwasan Geomhyeop truly deserving of such unwavering trust?
Now, it was Chung Myung’s turn to provide the answer.
“What’s so surprising?”
The Blood Palace Lord took another step towards Chung Myung, a sinister smile playing on his lips.
“This is just the norm in our sect. It may be hard for you, who cling to the pitiful martial arts of the Central Plains, to even imagine.”
Chung Myung let out a short laugh at those words. But anyone who saw his face directly would never describe it as a ‘laugh.’
Such a cold and chilling expression could hardly be called a smile.
“You’re just spouting nonsense.”
Chung Myung’s sword, which had been resting on his shoulder, slowly lowered.
Scrape.
The tip of his sword dragged lazily across the ground, much like a predator scraping the floor with its claws to intimidate its prey.
“So, you’ve decided to use the term ‘cult’ now [교(敎) – gyo as in magyo – Demonic Cult]?”
“…What did you just say?”
At that moment, Baek Sang noticed something.
For the first time since his appearance, an expression that was hard to describe flickered across the Blood Palace Lord’s face, an expression that suggested he had lost his composure.
“I meant exactly what I said. It seems you’ve decided to start calling yourselves a ‘cult’ again.”
“…What nonsense are you spouting?”
“I said exactly what I meant, you stupid bastard.”
Chung Myung bared his teeth in a mocking grin.
“You lot, who were too terrified of the Heavenly Demon and Demonic Cult to even dare call yourselves a religion, who hid behind the pathetic name of an outer ‘Palace,’ are you now finally gathering the tiny bit of courage you have to start calling yourselves the Blood Cult again?”
“H-How do you know…?”
The Blood Palace Lord’s face twisted into a grotesque expression.
“How dare you utter such blasphemy!”
“Or is it…”
Chung Myung’s voice dripped with disdainful sarcasm.
“…that you only dare to call yourselves a religion when they’re not around? Which is it?”
“You..!”
An overwhelming fury surged onto the face of the Blood Palace Lord.
But it was more than just anger – it was something deeper, a mix of humiliation, rage, and countless other foul emotions bubbling up from the depths of his soul.
“I’ll strangle you to death with your own entrails!”
Kwaaaaah!
An enormous surge of malevolent energy erupted from the Blood Palace Lord’s entire body. The dark, suffocating aura, thick and murky like a black torrent, spread out like ink, threatening to engulf Chung Myung.
At the same time, the Blood Palace Lord lunged at Chung Myung with terrifying speed.
Swish!
In that instant, Chung Myung’s sword flashed towards him, moving faster than lightning, with a speed that surpassed the word ‘quick.’
Crack!
Chung Myung’s Plum Blossom Sword sliced cleanly through the outstretched hand of the Blood Palace Lord. The bandage-wrapped hand was cut open at the wrist in a single, swift stroke.
“It’s useless! You idiot!”
The Blood Palace Lord’s eyes flared with a menacing red aura.
The hand revealed through the torn bandages was covered in countless scars, each one a testament to his martial arts and the brutal experiences that had shaped him.
Swish!
The Blood Palace Lord’s hand came crashing down with the force to split Chung Myung’s head in two.
Just as Chung Myung stepped back to avoid the blow, blood gushed from the Blood Palace Lord’s wound, writhing as if alive, and moved to envelop Chung Myung’s entire body.
“Die!”
There was no escape.
The Blood Palace Lord was certain. At this distance, his attack could not miss. He would crush this arrogant fool, just as he had planned, then rip out his intestines and use them to strangle him, relishing every moment of his death.
Just as he was about to surrender to the vile pleasure of this murderous intent, something caught his eye.
It was Chung Myung’s mouth, covered in blood, twisting into a peculiar grin.
Boom!
The blood that had been covering Chung Myung’s body suddenly exploded out in all directions.
‘What?’
Crack!
In that instant, Chung Myung’s Plum Blossom Sword shot forward like a lightning bolt, piercing through the Blood Palace Lord’s shoulder, while at the same time, Chung Myung’s foot slammed into his lower abdomen with tremendous force.
Bang!
Thud!
The Blood Palace Lord was pushed back nearly a full jang, landing on the ground with his hand pressed against it.
“Hmph…”
He couldn’t understand it.
Why had he been forced back? What exactly had happened in that brief exchange?
Throb!
The only thing he could comprehend was the pain radiating from the wound in his pierced shoulder.
“Heh heh…”
But instead of growing angry, the Blood Palace Lord let out a mocking laugh.
“I told you, it’s useless…”
But then, something unexpected happened.
“Urgh!”
His eyes widened in shock. He turned his head to look at his impaled shoulder, disbelief written all over his face. He grabbed the gaping wound with his hand.
“Kraaahhh!”
A gut-wrenching scream tore from his throat as his body convulsed violently.
“Wh-what… what is this… ah… Aaaagh!”
Instead of healing, as it should have, the wound in his shoulder was widening further. And instead of closing, an indescribable, excruciating pain surged from the wound.
“Guh… Ugh…”
“It seems your foolish predecessors didn’t teach you properly. Or perhaps they couldn’t, since they lost their heads and died?”
Chung Myung spoke sharply, his gaze heavy as he looked down at the Blood Palace Lord.
“Since your dead predecessors failed to do so, let me educate you. Remember this well: You don’t pick a fight with a Taoist who knows how to wield immortal energy [선기(仙氣)*], especially when you’re someone who dabbles in such filthy dark arts as yours.”
Scrape.
At the tip of Chung Myung’s sword, which was dragging along the ground, a clear energy shimmered.
Seeing that energy, the Blood Palace Lord’s once livid expression quickly turned ashen.
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