Chapter 41

Chapter 41
Chung Yang, commander of the Iron Sword Unit, escorted his cohort into the grounds of the Ak Clan Sword House. Clan swordsmen lined the pathways, yet an unmistakable pall of somber unease hung over the entire estate.

Receiving them at the entrance was Ak Do-gwang, the firstborn heir of Murim Alliance Lord Ak So-gun. His younger brother, Ak Seo-pyeong, was currently stationed at the central alliance headquarters assisting their father, leaving the elder sibling to oversee the affairs of the family manor.

“Welcome,” Ak Do-gwang greeted.

“It has been a long time,” Chung Yang replied.

Both men offered standard martial salutes with cupped fists. Given their respective standings, neither could afford to treat the other with casual disregard.

“Word reached us of an infiltrator?”

“That is correct.”

It was a staggering act of brazenness. This compound belonged to none other than the leader of the Murim Alliance. Anyone with common sense understood how airtight its defenses had to be. Even if an intruder possessed the exceptional skill required to slip past the perimeter, would either the Ak Clan Sword House or the alliance tolerate such a transgression without violent reprisal? Yet some lunatic had dared to attempt it.

“Was the villain captured?”

“No. We failed to discover a single footprint or any mark showing where the perimeter was breached.”

“Were there any casualties among your clan members?”

“Fortuitously, none at all.”

“Was any property taken?”

“Nothing was touched.”

A ripple of bewilderment passed through Chung Yang. If nobody had been harmed or killed, and nothing of value was missing, why had they sent an urgent summons to his unit? The Ak Clan Sword House retained an array of formidable experts; Ak Do-gwang alone had already stepped into the Peak realm. They were hardly the sort to call upon alliance reinforcements unless facing a catastrophic crisis.

“Walk this way,” Ak Do-gwang directed. “There is something your eyes must see.”

The deeper they ventured through the estate, the more overwhelming the stench of gore became.

No casualties, my foot, Chung Yang thought cynically.

Chung Yang and Hwang Il-bi exchanged guarded glances. Both subtly circulated their internal energy, sharpening their senses against any sudden ambush.

Eventually, they arrived at the secluded rear garden of the Ak Clan Sword House, where both men stopped dead in their tracks, paralyzed by astonishment.

“What on earth is this?”

Crimson gore coated the flagstones, the exterior masonry, and every surrounding surface.

“You stated that no one had died!”

“Indeed. That blood does not belong to any member of our clan.”

“What? Then whose blood is it?”

“We are entirely uncertain. The intruder coated this entire yard with it before vanishing into thin air.”

“Repeat that once more?”

Chung Yang surveyed the grisly perimeter again. This was not the quantity of blood one or two bodies could produce. At least ten individuals, possibly far more, had to have been butchered to amass this much gore.

Now he comprehended why his presence had been requested. This was a grotesque, unnatural occurrence that an investigator might witness only once in a lifetime.

“Grant us the space alone for a moment,” Chung Yang requested.

“As you wish.”

Once Ak Do-gwang stepped away and left them in privacy, Chung Yang murmured in utter disbelief.

“This is madness. Pure, unhinged insanity.”

“A madman, certainly, yet one possessing extraordinary martial power,” Hwang Il-bi noted. “To carry this staggering quantity of blood all the way into the secluded garden of the Ak Clan Sword House?”

“Could he have dragged living captives here, slaughtered them on-site, and poured out the blood?”

“Wouldn’t hauling living prisoners past the perimeter be significantly harder?”

“Perhaps. Then how did he haul this volume of liquid? Wooden buckets?”

“I cannot even begin to imagine.”

“I believe I have the answer.”

Both men whirled around instantly in shock. Strolling casually toward them was Baek So-cheon.

“What are you doing here?” Chung Yang demanded.

“Have you forgotten? My clearance for confidential matters exceeds your own.”

Chung Yang was acutely aware of that reality. Baek So-cheon possessed independent operational discretion and complete judicial immunity. In simpler terms, Chung Yang had no legitimate authority to bar him from the premises. He had already been pondering whether to turn this grievance into an official dispute and bring pressure upon Je-gal Hyeon.

Regardless, to Chung Yang’s eyes, Baek So-cheon was the living embodiment of the adage that uninvited guests bring ill fortune while the virtuous remain away. The edge in his voice became impossible to conceal.

“State your true reason for being here.”

“To admire the view? No, simply to lend you a hand.”

“I have no desire for your help.”

“If that is your decision, so be it.”

Baek So-cheon pivoted on his heel without an ounce of hesitation. After he had taken only a few paces, Chung Yang shouted out after him.

“Hold on!”

“What is it?”

“You claimed you knew what transpired here?”

“I did.”

“What do you know, precisely?”

“The identity of the culprit.”

“What?”

Chung Yang stood dumbfounded, and even Hwang Il-bi beside him dropped his jaw. What could the man have possibly deduced amidst this scattered gore? He had only just set foot in the courtyard.

“Who was it?”

“Didn’t your lordship just declare that my assistance was unnecessary? A man of honor does not retract his words.”

Chung Yang’s temper urged him to tell the man to go to hell, yet this remained the residence of the Murim Alliance Lord. Having arrived in person to take charge, he needed concrete findings regardless of the cost.

Hwang Il-bi adroitly stepped forward to smooth things over.

“Our lord spoke without adequate consideration. Please overlook his haste and bestow your wisdom upon us.”

Chung Yang bristled at the choice of phrasing. The word “haste” rankled his pride, and petitioning Baek So-cheon for wisdom felt thoroughly humiliating. Under normal circumstances, he would have roared at Hwang Il-bi for uttering such nonsense. Yet he swallowed his ire, pretending not to notice.

Baek So-cheon turned his gaze back to Chung Yang.

“Well, his lordship has always been prone to clumsy slips of the tongue.”

It was akin to pouring oil directly onto a roaring blaze, yet Chung Yang held his fury in check once more. His ambition to curry favor with the alliance lord was simply too profound.

Baek So-cheon met his stare evenly.

“You have learned to restrain yourself admirably these days.”

“I have always possessed ample patience.”

“Then why did you fail to display it back then?”

“That was—”

During those past events, he had been consumed by a desperate urge to strip Baek So-cheon of his command and trample him into the dirt. Naturally, that scheme had collapsed entirely.

“Cease your petty prodding.”

“Isn’t that station of yours one where you must learn to stomach a bit of ridicule?”

“What did you say?”

“So learn to endure it. Cultivate a little forbearance, and you might actually turn into a decent leader.”

Chung Yang found himself unable to lash out or laugh; the man’s audacity left him utterly speechless.

With a light spring, Baek So-cheon caught the overhanging eaves and pulled himself smoothly onto the tiled roof above.

“Climb up here.”

Chung Yang and Hwang Il-bi vaulted up to join him. Peering downward, both men drew in a sharp, startled breath.

From ground level, the scene had seemed like nothing more than random, chaotic splashes of gore. Yet from this elevated vantage point, the spilled liquid took the shape of colossal calligraphy—two massive hanja characters executed in a wild cursive brushwork, stretching across the flagstones and exterior walls, far too expansive to be deciphered from the courtyard floor.

BLOOD INSCRIPTION

Killing Heaven

Slay the Heavens

“Slay the heavens?”

Whatever the underlying motive, this was unmistakably a declaration aimed squarely at the leader of the Murim Alliance.

“A direct death threat directed at the Alliance Lord, most likely.”

Hwang Il-bi’s assessment drew a solemn nod from Chung Yang. In the righteous martial circles, the term ‘heavens’ was universally understood to mean the Murim Alliance Lord. Without question, the word pointed directly to Ak So-gun. And this declaration had been painted inside his personal family estate.

“You stated that you know who did this?”

Baek So-cheon gave a firm nod.

“That blood is far from ordinary.”

“In what way is it extraordinary?”

“It is the vital essence produced exclusively through Blood Heaven Qi, the signature demonic technique of Blood Cult Lord Myeol Saeng.”

The mention of the Blood Cult made Chung Yang and Hwang Il-bi gasp in unison.

Over the past three centuries, the Blood Cult had yielded no prodigy comparable to Myeol Saeng, its reigning sovereign. Blood Heaven Qi was his peerless demonic martial art—a horrific discipline centered on the manipulation of blood. It enabled the practitioner to expel their own blood as a lethal offensive weapon, or forcibly extract and control the vital fluids running through an opponent’s veins. To stand helpless while an adversary violently dragged every drop of blood out through one’s own orifices was a nightmare beyond reckoning.

“How can you be certain? That this is the work of the cult lord’s craft?”

“Take a careful breath of the air.”

Chung Yang and Hwang Il-bi drew the surrounding scent deeply into their nostrils.

“There is an aroma of cinnamon mixed into the blood,” Hwang Il-bi noted.

Chung Yang concurred with his officer’s observation. “Indeed, there is.”

“There are further indicators,” Baek So-cheon explained. “It is recorded that the blood generated by Blood Heaven Qi appears scarlet up close, yet from a distance, it radiates a distinct deep blue shimmer.”

Looking carefully from their high perch, a faint azure radiance indeed gleamed within the sprawling crimson stains.

“Where on earth did you acquire such obscure knowledge?”

“From written records. There is a volume known as the Compendium of Unorthodox Martial Arts stored within the Man-seo Library. You hold sufficient rank to read it yourself. Stop guzzling liquor during your hours of leisure and open a text once in a while.”

Chung Yang had no retort against Baek So-cheon’s barbed remark. His heavy drinking was an undeniable reality, as was his habitual aversion to literature.

Damn the man, Chung Yang cursed inwardly. He actually knows his craft.

Even while viewing him as an adversary, Chung Yang was forced to acknowledge the man’s exceptional competence.

Baek So-cheon’s observations were not yet exhausted.

“Furthermore, the fact that this blood refrained from corroding the stone surfaces or whatever vessels carried it, yet retained the cohesion to form characters? It indicates that Myeol Saeng has attained the realm of Great Success in Blood Heaven Qi.”

“Heaven forbid!”

Chung Yang and Hwang Il-bi both turned deathly pale.

Legends circulating within the Blood Cult claimed that reaching Great Success in Blood Heaven Qi rendered a martial artist utterly unassailable beneath the heavens. That lore had endured across generations.

The unorthodox Blood Cult had maintained strict neutrality throughout the previous conflict. Whispers had claimed that Cult Lord Myeol Saeng had entered secluded cultivation to push his Blood Heaven Qi to the Great Success stage, though nobody had been able to confirm the rumors. Now, covert reports hinted that the Black Heaven Alliance was preparing to forge a pact with the Blood Cult.

“Then what purpose would the cult lord have in leaving such a ghastly message?”

“That is beyond my concern. This inquiry belongs to your command—conduct the investigation and present your findings to the leadership. I will state that I never set foot here.”

Baek So-cheon dropped smoothly from the roofline, landing without a sound in the courtyard below.

From atop the tiles, Chung Yang shouted down after him.

“I despise every bone in your body.”

“I am aware.”

“Should an opportunity present itself, I will strip you of your position once more.”

“I am aware of that as well.”

“Then why offer me your help? What is your real objective?”

Baek So-cheon halted his steps and tilted his head upward toward the roof.

“The Blood Cult Lord and the Black Heaven Lord are joining forces. Do you imagine they formed this union out of genuine affection? It was done to swallow the Central Plains whole. If our adversaries are combining their strength, why should we remain at each other’s throats? I can stomach your presence if it means shielding the Murim world. So practice a little forbearance and endure me as well.”

This marked the very first genuine conversation Chung Yang had ever shared with Baek So-cheon. Never had he imagined the man harbored such thoughts in his mind.

Watching Baek So-cheon’s figure recede toward the gates, Chung Yang turned his attention toward Hwang Il-bi.

“I am well aware that your loyalty leans toward him.”

“As always, commander, that is an utter misunderstanding.”

Chung Yang brought this accusation up incessantly. If his suspicions were truly so deep, why did he keep the man at his side? Yet he treated Hwang Il-bi as his most indispensable right hand.

Hwang Il-bi could never decipher his commander’s inner workings. The Iron Sword Unit was brimming with remarkable talent, meaning Chung Yang was hardly bound to him merely for his martial utility. Nor did his attitude reflect bitter jealousy regarding Baek So-cheon—Chung Yang treated him far too well for that to be the cause.

“Submit our report to the upper echelon stating that this incident was the handiwork of the Blood Cult Lord. Ensure they know that I deduced the truth myself.”

“Understood.”

“Pay heed, First Captain Hwang. I will never offer backing to that bastard Baek So-cheon again. In fact, I will ensure the alliance purges him entirely. Never let that slip from your mind.”

“Then why not tell me to assist you in that endeavor?”

“I shall aid you with all the power at my disposal.”

“Look at that. You are undoubtedly his man.”

Chung Yang sprang from the roof first.

“I tell you, it is an absolute misunderstanding!”

Hwang Il-bi leaped down immediately behind him.

Shortly after their departure, another presence descended soundlessly into the desolate garden.

Draped from neck to foot in a dark cloak that fluttered like a violent gale, their face concealed behind a veil, and a broad-brimmed hat tilted low over their brow—no spectator could have determined whether the figure was male or female, youthful or advanced in years.

One detail alone was indisputable: their mastery of lightness skills had attained the very zenith of perfection.

The silent observer remained motionless for a prolonged interval, staring intently at the crimson characters carved in blood.

BLOOD INSCRIPTION

Killing Heaven