Reincarnated Sword Ghost

Blood Cult

Jeong-un approached beside him and spoke.

"Aren't we on a mission?"

He didn't misunderstand Baek Il-gang's feelings.

The bastards before them were all killers—precisely the type Baek Il-gang detested the most.

Even as he smiled and joked outwardly, his insides were surely churning. That was just the kind of man he was.

He likely couldn't bring himself to let these men pass easily to the other side.

'Now's not the time to show leisure.'

If the mission had merely been to wipe out these men in the village, Jeong-un could have played along with Baek Il-gang's attitude.

He had gained that much flexibility by now.

But currently, at various places across Geonchang District, martial artists of the Heavenly Martial Hall were simultaneously raiding the Blood Cult's large and small bases.

It took time to gather information and disperse it again.

They had to finish off these men quickly and send the obtained information to the Heavenly Martial Hall.

"Tsk."

Baek Il-gang feigned a sheepish face at Jeong-un's reprimand, then turned to the leader of the thugs he'd been talking to earlier.

"Our squad leader says we shouldn't even indulge in a little amusement. It's a pity for you guys."

But to the thugs, his words were incomprehensible.

As they exchanged confused glances—

The man addressed as Gate Leader glared and shouted, "Mission? Squad leader...?"

Only then did his gaze fall to the black martial garb and the left arm.

He'd never seen it in person, so he'd never paid much attention.

His eyes suddenly widened, and with a trembling voice, he gasped, "H- Heavenly Martial Hall?!"

At that, his exclamation spread like wildfire among his subordinates.

Each spat out an exclamation, voices colored with various emotions.

"The Heavenly Martial Hall? You mean that coalition of orthodox sects?"

"No way. How would they know to come here?"

"Then... who are these guys?"

"Maybe they got hold of some black martial garb and dressed up. Not like it's hard to get an outfit..."

"Is this a bunch of nobodies trying to pass themselves off with a fake identity?"

Their babbling rapidly converged toward the only conclusion they wanted to believe in.

'Fools.'

Sometimes, when an unrealistic calamity approaches, people avert their eyes and try to escape—even when there is no way out.

It's only when the crisis is breathing down their necks that they realize the truth.

To Jeong-un, these guys were the same.

Despite living like beasts now, they'd been born as humans.

Somewhere inside, they still retained their humanity, so this was only natural.

"......"

However, the boss standing at the back was different. His pupils trembled violently.

Aside from his ill repute, he was clearly the one most skilled at manipulating ki among them—a sure sign of excellent ki sense.

He stared intently at Jeong-un, as though he was already convinced these were indeed the martial artists of the Heavenly Martial Hall.

"Attack those cocky kids trying to deceive us!"

Finally, he shouted the order.

"You've really messed with the wrong people today."

"Idiots."

The thugs drew their weapons, advancing threateningly.

The group was surrounded.

Dozens of Blood Arts practitioners hemmed in the four, giving them no room.

"Ha."

Reading the Gate Leader's intent, Baek Il-gang snorted.

Jeong-un did not wait for the thugs to close in.

Swoosh.

True ki, circulating through his body, instantly gathered with force at his wrist.

Moving at a speed where even discussing velocity was meaningless, a single fluid motion set everything in motion.

The moment the blade was drawn from its sheath, the true ki at his wrist coalesced at the sword tip like ink, creating a thin thread before his eyes.

Fwaak─

The heads of the thugs advancing with relaxed faces suddenly twisted.

Bright red blood spurted out simultaneously.

Puwaaak!

With a belated ear-splitting roar, a fierce wind ripped through the air.

The dust from the ground surged, clouding the view with a violent gust.

"W-what...?"

"No way...!"

Seeing this surreal scene, the thugs screamed.

Almost simultaneously, waves of ki bursts erupted from either side of Jeong-un.

Swaak!

Kwaaa!

Baek Il-gang and Jo Gwang had already darted forward, plunging into the enemy center.

With each swing, they unleashed a torrent of bursting energy from their swords. Both showed visible growth.

Especially Baek Il-gang, who swung his blade with overwhelming force—utterly merciless, every sword strike and burst aimed at vital points.

At the group's rear, those attempting to block them were reduced to carnage by Tang Yerin's flashing daggers.

Her supreme martial skills were already famous—using mystical threads, she scattered numerous flying blades, stirring a storm of ki waves in the air.

They said one day she'd reach a refinement where even the threads were unnecessary—this was the Tang Clan's secret technique, Sky-Filling Flower Rain.

Puaaak─!

Blood splattered everywhere and bodies rolled in pieces on the ground.

The side where Baek Il-gang stood was especially vicious.

He was known for his astonishingly fast rise through the ranks.

You could now see how he had reached two-stripes so quickly.

His ruthless swordplay against the unorthodox faction had surely played a role.

In an instant, the enemy's numbers dwindled.

'This is why...'

Jeong-un recalled facing over a hundred dark path martial artists alone in Kaifeng.

They say that for a true martial expert, knocking down dozens of low-level fighters is nothing—yet things certainly go quicker with companions.

There's even time to think.

"......"

The Heavenly Blade Gate Leader of the Blood Cult stared blankly, slack-jawed.

Before Jeong-un's party had arrived, he'd lived royally here.

Even his smooth clothes betrayed his former lifestyle.

On the wide estate with its walled perimeter and newly built buildings, in league with officials, he must have lived his most glorious days.

But now, it was time to pay.

Step. Step.

Jeong-un walked through the carnage and corpses to the dazed thug. No one dared approach him.

The survivors were few indeed.

Jeong-un said, "Don't be afraid. I won't kill you."

"......!"

He'd meant to reassure him.

But maybe he misunderstood, as his eyes went wide and he stepped back.

"I mean it. There are just a few things I want to ask."

"A-ask something?"

The man muttered, eyeing the approaching Jeong-un warily.

His face was unconcerned, as if the surrounding slaughter meant nothing.

How could such a young man act this way?

It was then the man finally considered Jeong-un's age.

He'd heard of the Heavenly Martial Hall—a group like a military academy, admitting talented youths through tough exams.

No matter how skilled, weren't they just green novices?

And this one seemed especially young...

The Heavenly Blade Gate Leader stomped the ground.

"You arrogant brat!"

Jeong-un gazed coolly at the advancing man.

He'd already picked up the surge of waves of ki before the man even launched himself.

Swoosh!

In the blink of an eye, the thug drove his palm down at Jeong-un's crown.

There was solid ki behind it—a clear testament to his long years with Blood Arts.

Thwack!

Jeong-un caught it barehanded.

He barely felt any reaction from the blow. His cultivated power was on another level.

"Ugh!"

Not even hit directly, the Gate Leader's eyes bulged and he moaned.

His descending right hand jerked up in shock.

Coming to grips, even for a moment, he must have realized the immense power gap.

"Y-you... what...?"

Staring at Jeong-un with a look of disbelief, but Jeong-un had no intention of entertaining him.

Thud.

He stepped forward lightly.

With his center of gravity suddenly shifted, he channeled his true ki, curled his fist, and struck the man in the abdomen.

Thump!

It wasn't even a full-strength punch. Even so, it was enough.

This man was about the level of the Myriad Gold Merchant Guild thug from before—but Jeong-un was not who he had been.

He had already risen to martial heights where he looked down on such rabble.

"Guhk!"

The Heavenly Blade Gate Leader flew backward, sprawled in the dust, his fine clothes now filthy.

As Jeong-un approached, he thought:

'I can't kill him yet.'

He couldn't just cut his throat.

There was much to extract.

Where their main headquarters was, how they communicated, and what schemes they'd been plotting here.

Jeong-un aimed to uncover everything.

Sring.

Thinking so, he drew his sword.

The man's shoulder twitched as he lay prone in the dirt.

After that earlier exchange, his will was already broken, and the fighting spirit gone.

Still, Jeong-un drew his blade on purpose.

While he lacked formal interrogation experience, he knew fear was effective.

"I know what kind of scum you are."

"...?"

"Your headquarters is somewhere here in Geonchang District. Tell me where, and I'll spare your life."

"You'll... spare me?"

The man's eyes darted about.

Everyone but himself now lay dead on the ground. Mustering a calm facade, he laughed.

"You're still inexperienced in the ways of the martial world. If you wanted my tongue loosened, you should have left some of my men alive. Killing them all and seeking information from me? You've handed the advantage to me."

"Doesn't your organization have a strict structure? They wouldn't share key secrets with the small fry."

"......."

"If you refuse to talk, that's it. You'll die, and we'll just hunt down others. But if you cooperate, I'll only destroy your dantian before letting you go. You'll have to endure some pain."

"Don't make me laugh!"

He exploded in anger, realizing the end was near.

Even though he hadn't taken a real hit, his eyes flooded red.

"Spare me? As if you would! Don't insult me with such nonsense!"

"Believe it or not, it doesn't matter. Let's not waste each other's time."

Ssssh.

Jeong-un's hand slowly tightened on his sword guard, a clear killing intent emanating from him, making the thug shudder automatically.

At that moment, Baek Il-gang stepped up, clicking his tongue.

"What a pity. The Heavenly Martial Hall's warriors are bound by rule—they cannot lie. If you'd really talked, you might have been spared. Even rolling in a dung heap, life beats death. With your body trained in martial arts, you'd live better than most even without your dantian."

"...!"

The man's pupils widened at Baek Il-gang's words.

At the same time, Jeong-un raised his sword without hesitation.

As the cold blade caught the sunlight, the man screamed in panic.

"I don't know where the main headquarters is!"

"...?"

The descending blade halted. Jeong-un looked down at the man.

"You don't know? How predictable."

"It's true! Even we aren't told the location. Every month or so, a High Priest personally inspects this place."

"A High Priest?"

"Y-yes! One of the eight nobles permitted to meet the cult leader. They deliver the cult's instructions to us."

Apparently, their organization did have such a role.

Judging by his attitude, it was a high position.

Jeong-un asked, "What were you doing here?"

"W-what does it look like? Bribing officials to blind their eyes, spreading the doctrine, and increasing the number of cultists. The more I gathered, the higher my own rank...!"

Perhaps his lips loosened because he had nothing else to lose.

The man confessed everything. Jeong-un silently observed, then asked quietly.

"Is that all?"

"What?"

"Anything else you're hiding?"

"T-that's it. I swear, that's everything."

Jeong-un's sword hand moved again. He'd never intended to spare him.

There was no thought of negotiating with such people.

"Y-you...!"

"Take your resentment across the river of death."

The blade flashed, shining white.