Chapter 243: Heaven-Destroying Poison (1)
After the meeting was adjourned.
All the Elders had left the Heavenly Demon Pavilion, but amidst them, there was still one Elder who hadn’t moved from her seat.
A woman sat quietly near the lower end of the hall.
“Yeojin, do you have something to say?”
Eleventh Elder, Frenzied Unclothed Maiden, Yeojin.
She had remained silent the entire time until now. Gazing up toward the main seat, she slowly opened her mouth.
“Cult Leader.”
“Speak.”
“Are we truly fine with just a passive response?”
Passive response.
Many believed that sending the Sword Demon was overkill, but Yeojin didn’t think so at all.
A small chuckle escaped from the Cult Leader seated at the head.
“A passive response, you say. Is that truly what you believe?”
“Yes.”
Yeojin nodded without the slightest hesitation.
“Expelling the Gyeongcheon Illusion Clan was a hasty decision. It’s only natural that a backlash would follow.”
“Backlash, huh…”
“They will surely try to kill the Young Cult Leader. The Clan Head of the Ma Clan alone won’t be enough.”
“Hmm.”
The Cult Leader stroked his chin.
His beard was gone, leaving it smooth, but the habit remained from decades past.
“Is that information from the place you’re ‘connected’ to?”
Flinch!
For a brief moment, cold sweat trickled down Yeojin’s back.
“Yes.”
“Heh…”
The Cult Leader let out a low laugh.
He showed no particular reaction, which only heightened Yeojin’s anxiety to its peak.
“This reminds me of the old days.”
“……”
Looking at the silent woman, the Cult Leader recalled the distant past.
“You shouldn’t do this. You mustn’t do that. Since you were a child, you’ve always meddled like a nanny. Doing things I never asked for, suffering for my sake.”
“That was…”
“After I brought her, we didn’t speak for some time. But still, I’ve always appreciated your heart that still tries to care for me.”
“C-Cult Leader…”
At his deeply meaningful words, Yeojin’s shoulders began to tremble slightly.
“Yura won’t die. Absolutely not.”
“…!”
The sudden certainty in his voice left Yeojin speechless.
“Do you know how much effort he’s poured into Yura? Do you think he’ll just give up? He’s not someone who could endure another four hundred years.”
“W-What do you mean by that…?”
The Cult Leader ignored her question and continued.
“Right now, I’m more worried about Yujeong, that child. I’m concerned she might be harmed by a misguided ritual. Well, I suppose we can only hope that the Young Brother of the Jin Clan handles it well…”
Yeojin couldn’t understand what the Cult Leader was talking about.
She thought she’d already stepped into dangerous truths, but these transcendent beings were still exchanging moves on a higher plane of reality.
But more than that—
Yeojin was hurt that the Cult Leader, even while seeing through her actions, still chose to keep the truth from her.
Just then—
Swish!
The curtain that had blocked the two of them was suddenly drawn away.
And from within, the Cult Leader slowly stepped down from the main seat.
“A-Aah!”
The very image from decades ago, the one that had stirred waves in her heart.
That very same appearance now approached her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Just continue as you are. That would be more than enough.”
“Cult Leader…”
There was no way she couldn’t understand the many meanings behind those words.
“As you command… I shall obey.”
Yeojin quietly nodded with tears in her eyes.
***
The martial arts tournament held during the Southern Murim Conference was enjoying unprecedented popularity across the ages.
“Even now, people are rushing in after hearing the rumors. The city’s practically screaming under the weight.”
“The price of scalped tickets is skyrocketing. Even the wealthier folks are finding them hard to afford.”
“The root of this frenzy is surely…”
“It’s undoubtedly because of your cult’s rising momentum.”
The tournament was now on the verge of its fourth round.
Which meant, out of over sixty participants, only eight remained.
“Three from the Heavenly Demon Cult, two from the Demonic Faction… I suppose it’s understandable that the Evil Path Sect, which only sent two, and Black Lotus, who sent just one, are where they are—but the orthodox factions are utterly humiliated.”
The Hao Sect Leader, White-Faced Scholar, chuckled.
He was practically screaming with joy over the recent influx of revenue to the Hao Sect.
Ignoring him, I stared at the tournament bracket hanging on the wall.
‘The Baeksa will withdraw from the next round due to internal injuries. As for the Jeoksa… hmm, Namgung Cheong is the opponent?’
Baeksa, who had kept his promise and forfeited after facing only Radiant Cloud Blade Dragon, was one thing. But for both the Heuksa and Jeoksa to reach the fourth round was still an encouraging result.
The Baeksa had faced Baek Hon of the Evil Path Sect in Round 3—a wielder of the Flying Star Technique—and managed to win after a prolonged battle of over two hundred seconds.
A victory by the width of a single sheet of paper.
However, the price was steep: internal and external injuries across his entire body, forcing him to withdraw from the next match.
Jeoksa, unlike Baeksa, had a relatively easy victory against a member of the Zhuge Clan, known for their formation arts.
Unfortunately, his next opponent wasn’t a good draw.
‘Namgung Cheong’s skills have improved more than I expected… Maybe I shouldn’t have gone easy on him back then…’
Back in Xi’an, I’d refined the martial arts of a few of the younger generation from the noble families, out of an old connection.
Namgung Cheong had acted aloof out of pride for being one of the Six Divine Dragons, but I recalled that he had shown genuine earnestness when I helped him with his martial arts.
‘Mm, my apologies, Jeoksa!’
Inwardly, I asked for forgiveness from Jeoksa, mixed with guilt.
As I examined the tournament bracket, White-Faced Scholar flashed a lewd smile at me.
“But of course, none of them can compare to the name of Demonic Heaven Dragon.”
“……”
“Some have begun calling you ‘One-Second Finger Strike’. After all, you defeated Murong Gun of the Murong Clan in the third round in just one move.”
“Hmm…”
Once again, I was gripped by a strange sense of guilt.
My opponent in the third round under the guise of Demonic Heaven Dragon had been none other than Murong Gun, someone I was personally acquainted with.
Murong Gun had tried his best to resist the crowd’s chant of “one move,” but…
Unfortunately, during the trip to Luoyang, I had coached Murong Gun and already had a grasp of his martial arts.
The moment I saw through his clan’s secret footwork technique, Dipper Turn Step, he couldn’t even put up a token resistance and became yet another victim of a one-strike defeat.
“Among the younger generation of orthodox factions, only three survived. Baek Cheon-ho of the South, known as the Spear Dragon, the Sword Dragon Namgung Cheong, and… the Heaven Divine Dragon Jinmyeong.”
“……”
White-Faced Scholar gave me a knowing look as he uttered Jinmyeong’s name.
“Muksunggi’s Mukhon of the Evil Path Sect, First Strategist Black Thunder’s Myeongjin of the Black Lotu Union, Demonic Heaven Dragon of the Heavenly Demon Cult, and his two followers—the Two Dragons, is that right?”
Out of over fifty orthodox participants, only three remained—a truly humiliating result.
“What are your plans for finishing this tournament?”
I pondered White-Faced Scholar’s question for a moment.
“Originally, I intended to just brutally defeat Baek Cheon-ho in the finals and call it done, but that will depend on his response.”
The moment the Illusion Demon Hwan Pyeong appeared, all previous plans had to be completely revised.
“It’s possible I’ll escape Namchang before the finals even happen.”
White-Faced Scholar’s expression stiffened.
“Wait, then the plan…”
“No need to worry. I have a promise with the Sword King. Baek Mun-jeol will die.”
“Oh, thank goodness.”
Relief flooded White-Faced Scholar’s face.
“Although…”
“Although?”
“Mm, it’s nothing.”
I waved my hand dismissively to brush it off.
There was no need to share that with White-Faced Scholar.
I recalled last night’s meeting with the Sword King and sighed inwardly.
‘The Sword King’s demeanor has changed.’
It was something I sensed when I visited to discuss countermeasures against the Illusion Demon.
His gaze toward me was still friendly, and his cooperation with the plan hadn’t changed.
He even promised to overturn his entire clan if needed to track that person down.
But still…
‘I feel like he has his own hidden agenda.’
While the Sword King’s attitude hadn’t changed on the surface, my instincts, honed through years of work as the internal affairs officer, picked up a subtle unease—he was hiding something.
‘What is he planning?’
For the Sword King, who should be a reliable ally in the current situation, to be harboring other intentions—this was a troubling sign.
Even if those intentions ultimately benefited us, could I still consider someone an ally if we couldn’t share our thoughts openly?
‘If it turns out the Sword King has turned his back on us…’
Things could go from bad to worse faster than expected.
While I was deep in thought, White-Faced Scholar asked me,
“I heard they’re holding a small banquet in Namchang to honor the eight finalists. Will you be attending?”
I stopped thinking and nodded.
“I should. It’s about time I begin thinking seriously about the main event.”
It was just a hunch, but…
I felt like the final direction of everything might be decided there.
“Hahaha! Everyone, raise your cups!”
“Cheers!”
The banquet hosted by the Namchang Baek Clan was lively and boisterous.
Especially on the orthodox side, even though their results in the tournament were poor, it was obvious they were forcing a festive atmosphere and trying to keep the conversation flowing.
The only flaw was—
“Mm, two of tonight’s stars are absent.”
“No matter what, they should at least show their faces at an event like this.”
As some pointed out—
Among the eight finalists, both the Heavenly Divine Dragon and First Strategist Black Thunder were nowhere to be seen.
“I really wanted to at least meet the young man called the Heavenly Divine Dragon.”
“Hahaha, I agree.”
Especially now, Jinmyeong, being hailed as the orthodox faction’s final hope, was drawing everyone’s attention.
“Mm, if the great hero skips out on this, it’ll be a problem.”
“He clearly belongs to the Namchang Baek Clan. Isn’t this a bit much…?”
Even younger elites from other clans who were familiar with Jinmyeong expressed concern.
Even if he was an outsider by origin, skipping a family-hosted event seemed questionable in their eyes.
In any case, as time passed and the banquet reached its peak—
“Hahaha! Seeing so much interest in the tournament our clan hosted brings me joy beyond words!”
Baek Mun-jeol, sitting in the seat of honor, suddenly stood up and shouted.
Several of the elders frowned.
“…Why is that man doing this?”
“…Is he insane?”
To be celebrating when the orthodox factions had been thoroughly humiliated?
Sure, all the attention might’ve brought in a lot of money.
But right now, honor mattered more than wealth.
A cultist was on the verge of winning a tournament hosted by the orthodox faction—this was no time for Baek Mun-jeol to be laughing.
Yet, disregarding all those looks, Baek Mun-jeol turned toward the Heavenly Demon Cult and raised his voice even further.
“Especially the might of the Heavenly Demon Cult—truly astonishing. I now fully understand how your cult has endured for a thousand years!”
“…Has he really lost it?”
“Don’t tell me… he’s already accepting defeat?”
While the confused elders looked around at one another, whispering—
Cheon Yura, the representative of the Heavenly Demon Cult delegation, answered curtly.
“You flatter us.”
“In honor of such martial excellence, may I, Baek Mun-jeol, offer a toast to the Young Cult Leader?”
“…!”
“…?!”
The entire room fell silent at those words.
‘W-Wait, poison?’
‘No way, not even he would go that far… right?’
‘If not that, then why…?’
It was such a strange proposal that everyone thought the same thing.
Cheon Yura silently stared at Baek Mun-jeol for a moment, then slowly nodded.
“…Go ahead.”
With her permission, Baek Mun-jeol picked up a luxurious celadon wine bottle and walked toward her.
Countless eyes followed his every move.
Drizzle…
With a soft fragrance, her cup began to fill.
“Please, drink.”
“……”
Cheon Yura looked between Baek Mun-jeol’s smiling face and the filled cup for a moment, then slowly reached out to lift it to her lips.
Just as the tension in the room reached its peak—
Clack!
Someone suddenly stopped her action.
“May I take that cup instead?”
At that moment—
The expressions on Baek Mun-jeol’s and the Sword King’s faces changed dramatically.