Chapter 1743
Nowhere to be seen. (3)
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A wooden statue, or more accurately an Idol [신상(神像) – a statue of a deity] intricately and vividly carved, stood in the center of the dark tent. Its appearance resembled a demon more than a Deity, tormented beast more than a demon.
Each time the surrounding candles flickered, the long shadow cast by the Idol swayed dramatically along the tent walls. The sight was eerie, as if a beast were struggling to emerge from the darkness.
The strange space was filled with a chant [독송(讀誦)] that sounded almost like a song. The atmosphere was unnervingly grim, heightened by the sticky, clinging tones of multiple voices.
Amidst this, a man slowly approached the Idol.
He, who had been endlessly chanting mysterious verses, extended a bizarrely shaped ritual vessel he held in his hands. The large, circular vessel, entwined with numerous beasts, seemed to embody the very word ‘sacrifice.’
The vessel was slowly tilted over the Idol. Soon, seventeen streams of blood began to flow down, staining the wooden Idol red.
The chant, which had been more of a murmur, started to transform into a true song.
“Aaaahhh!”
It was endlessly reverent, yet infinitely eerie. A unique and grotesque sacrificial rite [제례(祭禮)], unlike any seen elsewhere, was unfolding.
Standing at the center, the man directing all of this, the leader of the Blood Cult, moved his hands with utmost caution. Though it might have appeared as a simple act of pouring blood over the statue, there was a precise procedure behind it all. A strong determination, allowing for no margin of error, was present in every movement of his fingers.
Flap.
At that moment, the tent fluttered as a gust of wind blew through. Simultaneously, the eyes of the Blood Cult Leader, who was holding the vessel, narrowed slightly.
“Aaaahhh!”
The strained singing reached its climax, and at the same time, the streams of blood flowing from the vessel gradually slowed to a stop. The Blood Cult Leader carefully withdrew his hand after the last drop of blood had been poured. With a reverent gesture, he completed the ritual, then knelt before the Idol, revealing the palms of his hands.
After finishing all the procedures, the Blood Cult Leader slowly stepped back, retreating with great caution.
The wooden Idol, though intricately carved, was ultimately just a wooden statue. It didn’t appear particularly old, nor did it have any special features. Yet, the Blood Cult Leader treated it as if the very God he worshiped resided within it, pouring his heart and soul into every moment.
Finally, after stepping back far enough, the Blood Cult Leader turned his head. The eyes that had been endlessly reverent suddenly began to gleam with a crimson light.
Thud.
He took a step forward. His steps were directed towards a corner of the tent, where a cultist had been solemnly performing the ritual.
The cultist’s face turned pale as he realized the Blood Cult Leader was approaching him.
“C-Cult Leader…?”
“Do you know what a blood sacrifice is?”
A chilling red light emanated from the Blood Cult Leader’s eyes.
Sweat began to pour down the cultist’s body as if it were raining. The blood sacrifice was one of the most crucial rituals of the cult. No cultist could be ignorant of its significance.
Therefore, the meaning behind this question was also clear.
“It’s a place for those who are utterly miserable, the unworthy, to prove their faith, if only slightly.”
“F-Forgiveness! Please forgive me…!”
Crunch!
The Blood Cult Leader’s long fingers wrapped around the cultist’s neck, his fingertips piercing into the flesh.
“Grk… Gghrk..”
“And yet, a fool like you, who lets his faith be shattered by the mere sound of the wind, dares to occupy that sacred position.”
Though his voice carried no obvious emotion, any follower of the Blood Cult would recognize the seething rage beneath those words.
Crack!
Blood began to trickle down, dripping onto the floor at the Cult Leader’s feet. The cultist instinctively clawed at the Blood Cult Leader’s hand gripping his throat, desperately trying to pry it away, but the Cult Leader was as indifferent as if he were watching an insect beneath him.
Snap.
In the end, the Blood Cult Leader’s fingers crushed the cultist’s spine. The cultist’s head hung to the side, his tongue hanging out as his body went limp.
Thud.
The lifeless body was discarded, and a chilling light flickered in the Blood Cult Leader’s eyes.
“Clean this up.”
“Yes!”
“Make sure not a single drop of that filthy blood remains here.”
“We will take care of it.”
The Blood Cult Leader glared at those bowing before him, then turned his head. The Idol, now half-soaked in blood, came into view.
After staring at the Idol for a long while, he turned and left the tent. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps before someone quickly followed him.
“Cult Leader.”
The Blood Cult Leader glanced sideways.
Among the three elders in the cult, it was the Third Elder who had approached. His expression was dark and heavy.
“Though it is worth celebrating that we have finally conducted the blood sacrifice after such a long wait, you must realize this could become a problem.”
The Blood Cult Leader’s gaze grew somber.
“Are you referring to the blood sacrifice [혈제(血祭)]?”
“You it understand well.”
Paegun Jang Ilso had forbidden harming civilians. Since they needed to fight in enemy territory, he thought there was no need to step forward and turn the people’s hearts against him.
Though the reason seemed trivial, it was undeniable that such an order had been issued in Pageun’s name.
The problem was that the blood used for the blood sacrifice could only be obtained from the hearts of young boys and girls.
“But we could not avoid performing the ritual.”
“This matter…”
The Blood Cult Leader suddenly turned and glared at the Third Elder.
“Are you saying that we should have refrained from offering a sacrifice, to the God who has been deprived of His rightful place?”
“The God would understand. He is merciful.”
“Or perhaps it is people who are exploiting that mercy.”
“Cult Leader.”
“There is no need to say more. What has been done cannot be undone.”
The Third Elder let out a heavy sigh. The Cult Leader’s words were not wrong. Perhaps if they had been able to prevent it before it happened, there might have been a chance, but what could be done about something that had already transpired?
Forcing himself to shake off the weight in his heart, the Third Elder spoke.
“You should be mindful of the movements of Sapaeryeon.”
The Blood Cult Leader’s eyes twitched.
“Do not forget. This is our only chance to set foot on the white soil [백토(白土)] of the Central Plains again. If Sapaeryeon does not succeed this time, we will be forced into silence for a long time once more.”
“Because Sapaeryeon fails?”
“…Cult Leader?”
“Not because of them, but simply because we lacked the strength. Or perhaps, it was courage that we were missing?”
“Cult Leader! What are you saying?”
“I’ll be going ahead.”
The Blood Cult Leader sharply cut off the conversation and took a step forward. Yet, the turmoil in his chest made him add one more thing.
“And remember this: whether we gain victory or suffer defeat, the outcome will not change.”
“What do you mean by that, Cult Leader?”
Without responding, the Blood Cult Leader continued walking.
‘These old men…’
His fists clenched tightly.
Those who claimed to be armed with faith had turned their backs and fled from the disaster [재앙(災殃)] instead of facing it head-on. As a result, their God lost the place where He rightfully belonged and was denied the honor He deserved.
The so-called ‘blood sacrifice’ was nothing more than feeding a dying man just enough saltwater to keep him from dying. And yet, were they so terrified even of that?
The Blood Cult was once said to have dominated the world. But now, it felt as though nothing but remnants of that power remained.
A heavy weight settled in his chest.
Though anger surged within him, he also understood, to some extent, why the Third Elder had spoken as he did.
‘Where did it all go wrong?’
When the alliance with Sapaeryeon was first formed, the Cult’s plans were different from what they were now.
Sapaeryeon was supposed to completely take over Gangnam and, centered around the Yangtze River, oppose Cheonumaeng. In return for aiding Sapaeryeon, the Blood Cult would secure its own territory.
Had that plan succeeded… by now, the Cult would have fulfilled its long-held desire to enter the Central Plains. Coexistence with those who lived in the shadows, unlike those who walked the path of righteousness, would have been possible.
‘Jang Ilso…’
Things began to unravel when Paegun Jang Ilso crossed the Yangtze River and advanced north.
Those who obtain something valuable usually cling to it fiercely. That’s the norm. But Jang Ilso was different. Like a ravenous beast, he threw away what he had and sought to claim the enemy’s land.
As a result, ‘coexistence’ was now impossible. If they lost this war, the followers of the Evil Path [사도(邪道)] of the Central Plains would be wiped out, and the Cult would once again face a long period of hardship. After all, they couldn’t face the entirety of the Just Sects on their own.
Whether they wished it or not, the Blood Cult had become entwined with the fate of Sapaeryeon.
‘Did he know this would happen from the beginning? Or was it…’
The slyly smiling face of Jang Ilso flashed through the Blood Cult Leader’s mind.
Yes, he must have known. None of this could be mere coincidence. It’s not an exaggeration to say that the entire Cult had been manipulated by Jang Ilso. The elders’ wariness of him was understandable, perhaps even inevitable.
‘But still…’
– Choose.
The Blood Cult leader chuckled quietly.
Even Jang Ilso couldn’t have foreseen this. This was truly a natural disaster – a heavenly catastrophe. Predicting a lightning strike from a clear sky is beyond human ability. The Blood Cult Leader was no different. He could only wail and groan.
A choice…
Whether to face destruction now or to become a dog and survive for a brief moment longer.
Can choosing between these two really be called a choice? The outcome would be the same regardless.
The Blood Cult Leader’s eyes flashed with a renewed intensity.
‘If there is no path, then the only option is to carve one out.’
And until that opportunity arose, he would have to play the role of a dog. That was the utmost devotion he could offer to the God who had lost His rightful place.
The Blood Cult Leader’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous madness.
Of course, even so, this situation was far from satisfying. The anger that had accumulated to the brim would inevitably seek an outlet. Taking the life of a cultist under the pretext of lost faith might have been nothing more than a means to release the fury that had risen to his head.
“Cult Leader.”
At that moment, a cultist, his entire body concealed by a blood-red robe, quickly approached him.
“Has Paegun made a move?”
The Blood Cult Leader’s expression, which had darkened as he thought of Jang Ilso, instantly cooled.
There was no need to fear. Now that it was certain that Jang Ilso could not change the fate of the Cult, even more so.
Yet, despite knowing this, fear lingered. It was Jang Ilso’s madness that had driven the Blood Cult into its current predicament. A madness so boundless that even those who had mastered dark arts could not fathom its depths.
The Cult was already groaning under the weight of that madness.
“No, Cult Leader.”
“Then?”
“It concerns Cheonumaeng…”
The cultist quickly relayed what he had heard. As the Blood Cult Leader listened, his gaze grew a shade redder.
“Is it him…?”
“Yes.”
“How ironic.”
The Blood Cult Leader stared down at his own hand.
The blood of the seventeen young boys and girls used in the ritual still clung to it, along with the blood of the follower he had killed.
“It seems the thirst remains unquenched.”
“Pardon?”
“The best offering is the blood of the enemies of the cult [교적(敎敵)]. The heart of one who has insulted the cult might momentarily satisfy the thirst of our God.”
The Blood Cult Leader’s bloodstained fingers twitched slightly.
“Are you planning to take action yourself?”
“It should serve as sufficient entertainment.”
“But Paegun..”
The cultist trailed off, clearly worried that if the Blood Cult Leader moved, it would mean defying the command to stay put issued by Paegun Jang Ilso.
The Blood Cult Leader frowned.
“There is only one person who can give me orders.”
“My apologies.”
The bandaged face of the Blood Cult Leader twisted slightly.
The Cult does not forgive its enemies. They will pursue them to the ends of the earth and rip out their hearts.
There is one reason this is possible: in a world of millions, each person’s blood scent [혈향(血香)] is unique. If they set their minds to it, there is no way they wouldn’t find a mere whelp.
And this… this was connected to another task he had to fulfill.
Without blinking, the Blood Cult Leader turned his head. In the distance stood a grand and luxurious tent, the largest and most ornate of them all.
It was the opulent tent reserved solely for the leader of Sapaeryeon. As the Blood Cult Leader looked at it, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
“Gather the followers.”
The eyes of the cultist before him widened in surprise. It was already unusual for the Cult Leader to take action himself, but if the cultists were to move as well, the situation would escalate significantly.
“Did you not hear me?”
“N-No, I did. I will gather them immediately.”
The cultist quickly vanished, and the Blood Cult Leader narrowed his eyes.
– Do as you wish. As you desire.
A cough-like laugh escaped him, carrying a bitter edge.
As you desire… Did he really think he knew what he desired?
But the amusing thing was that the Blood Cult Leader fully understood the meaning behind those lofty words.
“Well, then, I suppose I should be grateful.”
If they were going to push him this far, there was no choice but to engage in a dance of blades.
Soon, everyone will know.
Those who have reveled in false peace, those who have flaunted hollow power, they will all come to feel it.
The wrath of the one who was deprived of His rightful place. The presence of the one who once stained the world red. And… the deep, abiding resentment of those who have upheld His will.
Baek Cheon, was it?
“It starts… with the blood of that heretic.”
The Blood Cult Leader’s eyes, visible between the bandages, gleamed with a dark crimson light.
It was the ominous and somber madness of someone with nothing left to lose.
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