Chapter 116 : Chapter 116
Chapter 116. Traces of the Blood Palace
At that time, at the Silver Tear Pavilion.
Geum Ja-gyeong drank without pause, pouring alcohol down his throat as if he were someone whose insides had been hollowed out.
He had always been fond of wine and women, but this time it was excessively so.
Heo Ja-gyeom, the Vice-General Manager of the Geum Clan, watched the scene with eyes that had gone cold.
‘The Young Family Head is not a particularly sharp man, but….’
That did not mean he was a fool. Though his temperament was violent and he indulged openly in wine and pleasure, he possessed at least a minimum level of political sense.
That was how he had managed to maintain the position of Young Family Head despite being judged as having mediocre talent.
Yet now, he was behaving as though he had completely lost his reason.
‘Something has broken.’
What in the world was the problem? A deep crease formed between Heo Ja-gyeom’s brows.
The only thing that came to mind was the battle with a monster that had occurred while escorting the trade caravan.
At the time, the Young Family Head had overestimated his own martial prowess and charged straight at the monster, suffering an injury.
Of course, it had been a minor wound, and the monster itself had been safely exterminated by the clan’s warriors.
‘…Still, I cannot guarantee there were no aftereffects.’
A monster was an anomalous being beyond the bounds of common sense. It would not be strange at all if that clash had planted some kind of inner demon in the Young Family Head’s heart.
‘Damn it. Of all times, it had to be when I was there.’
Heo Ja-gyeom did not particularly like the Young Family Head.
Even so, the reason he worried like this was simple: in reality, the person responsible for this trading mission was not the Young Family Head, but Heo Ja-gyeom himself. If something went wrong with the Young Family Head because of this incident, the responsibility would fall squarely on his shoulders.
KWAANG! CRASH! BANG!
A short while later.
The Young Family Head accidentally dropped a wine bottle and shattered it, then lost his balance while trying to pick it up and sprawled onto the floor.
“Damn it.”
The moment he saw that, Heo Ja-gyeom let out a long sigh.
No matter how much of an idiot Geum Ja-gyeong was, he was still a peak-level expert. Even if he were drunk, there was no way he would simply trip over his own feet.
Unless he had been cursed by something.
I should find a capable sorcerer or physician. Since we are in Shanxi, it might be a good idea to consult the Martial Sovereign Castle, who are well-versed in matters concerning monsters.
Of course, all of that would have to be done using Heo Ja-gyeom’s personal connections and wealth.
If he wanted to avoid being expelled from the Geum Clan.
While Heo Ja-gyeom desperately racked his brain to survive, the Young Family Head staggered to his feet.
“Bring me another bottle of wine! Anything, something strong!”
He barked at the woman attending him in a voice thick with drunkenness.
When the woman brought the wine, Geum Ja-gyeong grabbed it and gulped it down, then, apparently displeased for some reason, hurled the bottle straight at her.
THUD!
Despite the lack of strength behind the throw, the woman was struck by the bottle and collapsed on the spot.
Those belonging to the Silver Tear Pavilion frowned, but they did not particularly restrain him. They simply carried the fallen woman away.
Not yet. There was no need to sour relations with the Geum Clan of Hebei over something like this. That was their judgment.
The Ten Great Martial Families of Hebei maintained close ties with one another. They were, in effect, practically a single alliance.
Individually, each was no more than a mid-sized clan, but when they combined forces, they were strong enough that even major sects could not simply ignore them.
“Wine! Bring me more wine!”
Even as such complicated calculations swirled around him, the Young Family Head remained devoted solely to his own desires. Deep within his pupils, a blood-red glare flickered faintly.
However, it shimmered so subtly that even Heo Ja-gyeom, a seasoned peak-level expert, would have difficulty noticing it.
***
Three men wearing bamboo hats pulled low passed along a mountainside and entered a residential area.
Because their appearances were each too distinctive and eye-catching, they had hurriedly purchased the hats.
“The atmosphere feels strange,”
Dam Jeok-san said, gazing at a tavern building faintly visible beyond the ridge.
“Strange?”
Kwon Gi-il asked in a puzzled voice. Even he, having reached the Entering Transformation Realm, could sense nothing unusual in this street.
How, then, had the Third Young Master noticed something amiss?
“Yes. It is hard to describe precisely, but it does not feel good.”
Faced with the questioning gaze, Dam Jeok-san answered with firm conviction.
Azure genuine qi swirled within his eyes.
Something seemed as though it might be visible, yet not quite—a vague sense of ominous foreboding lingered over the entire tavern.
Not only that, but the fragments of memory he had recently devoured from the Reverse-Blood Heaven Fiend were also sounding frantic alarms.
As if they were trying to pierce the true nature of the ominous presence hovering over the tavern.
‘This is not good.’
He had not fully digested all of the Reverse-Blood Heaven Fiend’s memories. They were cluttered with sordid and pathetic thoughts, hardly worth remembering.
Still, there were a few scenes that had left an impression on Dam Jeok-san.
Most notably, moments when the fiend had faced transcendent experts.
Above all, the memory branded like a scar was the battle with the Spirit River Sword Immortal.
That fight had cost the fiend everything and cast him into ruin.
Yet there was one other time when the Reverse-Blood Heaven Fiend had felt terror of a similar magnitude.
That was when he had come face to face with the Left Protector of the Blood Palace, who bore the external title Heaven-Transcending Blood Venerable.
Third in rank within the Blood Palace.
A stern judge who executed those who violated the palace’s laws.
The sharpest blade of the Blood Palace Lord.
‘A fairly well-known figure even in the Central Plains’ Murim.’
In the past, the Sword-Breaking Corps Commander—an outstanding martial artist who had once been considered a candidate for the next leader of the Unorthodox Alliance—along with his entire faction, had been annihilated by the Heaven-Transcending Blood Venerable alone.
The reason was simple: in a public setting, the Sword-Breaking Corps Commander had insulted and belittled the Blood Palace Lord.
That was all.
The Sword-Breaking Corps Commander had been a master standing at the very edge of the Ultra-Peak, gazing upon the wall of the Entering Transformation Realm, and within his corps there had been three other Ultra-Peak experts besides him.
It was a force difficult to wipe out unless one were among the Eight Sovereigns of Murim. At the time, the Unorthodox Alliance, plagued by instability, had even given up on forming an assassination unit.
‘I heard the Unorthodox Alliance Leader pursued him personally afterward, but….’
In the end, the head of the Heaven-Transcending Blood Venerable was never hung up within the Unorthodox Alliance.
‘Still, that is not something to worry about right now.’
The details would become clear once they reached the Silver Tear Pavilion.
‘At the very least, he has not manifested here.’
That much he could be certain of. Dam Jeok-san’s intuition from his Upper Dantian told him so.
“Let us go for now.”
Dam Jeok-san said, looking at Kwon Gi-il.
“Well, very well.”
Kwon Gi-il readily agreed. Bukgung Wan still wore a deeply furrowed expression, but Dam Jeok-san had begun to understand that this was his form of silent consent.
Thus, the three arrived at the Silver Tear Pavilion after roughly half a double hour.
“The atmosphere really is unpleasant.”
Bukgung Wan said indifferently, lifting the brim of his bamboo hat slightly.
His gaze was fixed on the martial artists with glittering gold-embroidered characters reading ‘Hebei Geum Clan’ stitched across their chests.
Those warriors were pacing back and forth before the pavilion, controlling entry and exit.
Embroidery so garish that even the Ming Cult, known for its flamboyant attire, would not go this far.
And martial robes woven from crude thread that did not match it at all. The presence of warriors who were, at best, only first-rate.
“Vulgar.”
Bukgung Wan summed up his assessment of them in a single word.
Though the Geum Clan was counted among the Ten Great Martial Families of Hebei, to the heir of a great orthodox sect, that was about the extent of their worth.
“…That is true.”
Dam Jeok-san also agreed in a lowered voice.
Though he himself had not been born into an especially exalted status, he had lived half his life as a disciple of the Martial Sovereign Castle Lord.
He had seen all manner of ugly things, yet even so, such a vulgar scene was rare.
Step. Step.
Dam Jeok-san, who was effectively leading the group, advanced toward the Geum Clan warriors without hesitation.
“For what reason are you blocking the entrance to this tavern?”
He asked in a tone that observed the bare minimum of courtesy.
“…What did you say?”
Though his bamboo hat was pulled low, his appearance was clearly extraordinary at a glance. And there was a peculiar forcefulness to his words.
The warrior shuddered instinctively.
But what moved him was not instinct, but his identity as a warrior of the Geum Clan.
“Step back! There is a distinguished guest inside.”
That this was no place for wandering vagabonds like them went unsaid, due only to the unusual aura Dam Jeok-san exuded.
“Hm… a distinguished guest.”
At those words, the corners of Dam Jeok-san’s mouth curved into a pleasant smile.
“I am curious. Just how distinguished must this guest be, for you to block my way?”
The Geum Clan. One of the Ten Great Martial Families of Hebei. That was all Dam Jeok-san knew about them. There was neither need nor reason to know more.
At the very least, there was no one inside important enough to bar his passage. Not even the Geum Clan Head himself would qualify.
“You look like wandering swordsmen. Turn back now, while I am still speaking politely.”
One of the Geum Clan warriors, apparently of relatively high rank, stepped forward and spoke.
His face, that of someone who seemed to be a peak-level expert in his own right, was stained with fatigue and self-loathing.
As though he were ashamed of himself for being stuck with such menial work.
He rummaged through his inner pocket, pulled out a few coins, and held them out.
For actual mercenaries who sold their blades for food, it was money that would take several days of risking their lives to earn. Most would retreat for this amount.
So these men would leave as well. Exhausted, the warrior failed to recognize the extraordinary nature of Dam Jeok-san’s group.
“Oh?”
Tap.
The one who took the money was Bukgung Wan, who had been observing the situation from the side.
“Thanks. I will put this to good use.”
Only then did the warrior’s expression turn deathly pale.
He had completely lost track of Bukgung Wan’s movement. When had he approached? How had he reached out and snatched the money?
He could not tell at all.
‘An expert!’
And not just any expert. As one of Heo Ja-gyeom’s close aides, the warrior knew well how much Heo Ja-gyeom feared precisely this kind of situation.
‘I have to stop them—no, at least inform him.’
If he could not stop them, he had to alert those inside. Only then could Heo Ja-gyeom attempt some sort of countermeasure.
But the warrior’s mouth never opened.
Tap.
With a light movement of his hand, Dam Jeok-san sealed the man’s mute and paralysis points.
A point-sealing technique that had reached the realm of the divine. Leaving the warrior frozen stiff, Dam Jeok-san casually pushed the door open.
The surrounding warriors rushed forward, but when Kwon Gi-il lightly waved his hand, they all collapsed unconscious.
***
Heo Ja-gyeom felt a strange sense of unease pierce through his entire body.
This was not a mere feeling, but something akin to the intuition he possessed as a martial artist.
As the Vice-General Manager of the Geum Clan and a peak-level expert ranked third within the household, Heo Ja-gyeom’s instincts rarely missed the mark.
Something was definitely wrong.
The moment he reached that conclusion—
Step. Step…
Three men wearing bamboo hats entered the tavern.
The one standing at the front swept his gaze around the room and spoke.
“We came to have a meal.”
“….”
“Would that be possible?”
An attitude utterly unconcerned with the chaos inside.
An air of confidence that flowed from him as naturally as breathing.
And, most decisively, an intense, indefinable aura flashing within his eyes.
The arrival of a true expert—the very thing Heo Ja-gyeom had feared.
‘The fact that the ones guarding the entrance are silent means….’
They had been dealt with without even a scream.
At the very least, the intruder was a master who had reached the extreme of the peak. Perhaps even an Ultra-Peak expert.
Who could it be? In Shanxi, where the Martial Sovereign Castle stood, Ultra-Peak experts were as common as grains of sand, but very few would come all the way out to this frontier.
He could not guess their identities at all.
Then, the speaker lightly lifted his bamboo hat.
Delicate, refined features. A face far too young for his level of cultivation.
“Ah…”
Heo Ja-gyeom recognized him instantly.
The rising star who had set the martial world ablaze of late.
A flower that had bloomed again after once being cut down.
The direct disciple of the Martial Sovereign Castle Lord.
“Sword Dragon?”
Heo Ja-gyeom asked blankly, unable to comprehend why he would be here.