Chapter 176: The Weight of Karma (2)

“Well, it’s not like I really care that much.”

The submission of the Blood Sect.

For the elders of the main sect, it would’ve been a cause for much fuss.

But for Cheon Taejong, in the turbulent period of youth, it wasn’t of great significance.

“If it’s about the marriage proposal, I’ll try petitioning my father once I return to the main sect.”

“That would be much appreciated.”

Jeok Hawol bowed her head in gratitude.

But in truth, Cheon Taejong felt a slight pang of guilt.

‘By now, that man’s probably flipping out looking for me…’

If there was one thing both Jeok Rua and Jeok Hawol had overlooked—

It was that they hadn’t taken the word “runaway” very seriously when Cheon Taejong had said it.

When he fled Ten Thousand Mountain, he had escaped toward Shaanxi, so by now, it wouldn’t be strange if the Mount Hua or Zhongnan factions were preparing for war.

‘I just… want to enjoy a bit of freedom for now.’

Thanks to what his father had done, Cheon Taejong was mentally exhausted to the limit.

Because of that, his return to the main sect would be delayed for quite some time.

***

And so began Cheon Taejong’s bizarre life within the Blood Sect.

The followers of the Blood Sect were puzzled by his sudden appearance, but once the Saintess Jeok Hawol vouched for him, they quietly accepted his presence.

Above all else, a young man capable of martial arts was considered valuable manpower no matter the place.

Cheon Taejong grumbled as he carried a log the size of his torso on his shoulder.

“…This isn’t exactly what I ran away from the main sect to do.”

“Thank you kindly, young master.”

The people of the Blood Sect referred to Cheon Taejong, an outsider of unknown origin, as “young master.”

Jeok Hawol had thoroughly concealed not only his identity but even his name.

Even if the Saintess—the highest authority—acknowledged him, the fact that the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult, their mortal enemy, had entered the heart of the Blood Sect was no trivial matter.

After finishing a round of construction work and field labor—

Cheon Taejong sneered toward Jeok Hawol, who had come to see him.

“No matter how I look at it, even if I revealed my identity here, nothing much would happen, would it?”

Understanding the meaning behind his words, Jeok Hawol blushed slightly.

“…That’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Even if I sent just anyone from the Thirty-Four Demon Squads, I could wipe this place out in half a day.”

The rumors of the Blood Sect’s decline were not exaggerated.

Across the entire group, only three—including Jeok Rua—had reached the Master Level Realm, and there was no one beyond that level.

The number of spellcasters was similarly dismal.

Among the five hundred residents, only about fifty could handle even the most basic spell arts.

And even those didn’t have much combat ability.

“I’m surprised you’ve managed to stay hidden from the orthodox factions until now.”

The Blood Sect’s headquarters wasn’t even in an especially remote place.

It lay at the border between northern China and Shanxi.

Nestled in a branch of the Taihang Mountain range.

‘There’s a town just a hundred li or so away…’

There’s no need for the Nine Great Sects to get involved.

Just a few small factions joining together would be enough to wipe this place out.

Jeok Hawol chuckled and shook her head.

“We’re confident when it comes to hiding our base. We just don’t have the talent. But we inherited plenty of knowledge from the previous generation.”

“…I suppose.”

The only reason Cheon Taejong had been able to locate the Blood Sect’s base was because he had sensed the subtle flow of concealed spell energy.

An ordinary martial artist wouldn’t have even noticed anything unusual and would’ve passed right by.

“More than anything, we’ve fallen so far that even if we went around saying we were the Blood Sect, most wouldn’t believe us.”

“…That’s kind of depressing.”

A strange sense of guilt crept up on Cheon Taejong.

“So, what’s the reason you came looking for me?”

“There’s somewhere I’d like to take you.”

Jeok Hawol led Cheon Taejong deep into the valley.

To the dark interior of the mountain range, where barely any light reached.

“I can tell it’s got a long history, that much is clear.”

Cheon Taejong marveled at the sight of the massive hall before him.

“To think you were hiding something like this.”

Behind a cliff where stream water trickled down stood a massive, seven-story hall.

Unusually, the entire structure was covered in pure white seals, as if randomly wrapped in bandages.

“The Sealed Blood Temple. It’s the largest… and only remaining legacy of our sect.”

Jeok Hawol opened the first-floor door of the building and led the outsider inside.

“…Amazing.”

Cheon Taejong, in awe, looked around while Jeok Hawol shook her head bitterly.

“They’re things we can hardly use anymore… No, things we can’t use at all.”

“This is the essence of the Blood Sect accumulated over a thousand years?”

Spell books amassed without distinction between orthodox and unorthodox arts.

Talismans and artifacts created for curses or spiritual training.

Even unidentified pills exuding strange auras.

And this was just what was displayed on the first floor. What kinds of treasures could possibly be hidden all the way up on the seventh floor?

“All of this, consider it your reward, Young Cult Leader.”

“…Doesn’t it feel like a waste?”

At Cheon Taejong’s question, she shook her head.

“Not really. Treasures you can’t protect only become disasters.”

Indeed, it was practically a miracle that the Sealed Blood Temple hadn’t been plundered by outsiders yet.

If all of this were handed over to the Demonic Cult, the Blood Sect’s surrender would surely be accepted.

Especially, the head of the Illusion Clan would likely vote in favor with crazed eyes.

“……”

Her cool attitude, with not a hint of lingering attachment.

Cheon Taejong felt a faint sense of discomfort from her demeanor—but quickly brushed it off.

“If you’re offering all this as a gift, I’ll gladly accept it. But I won’t be returning to the main sect anytime soon.”

“That’s fine. It’s only a matter of time anyway.”

Cheon Taejong and Jeok Hawol shared a quiet smile as they faced each other.

And behind them—

Jeok Rua, who had been silently cultivating, looked at the two of them with a strange expression in her eyes.

***

It had already been over two months since Cheon Taejong arrived here.

Though life in this remote, desolate place was far from ideal, to his own surprise, Cheon Taejong found himself enjoying life in the Blood Sect.

Of course, it wasn’t the simple, rustic lifestyle that appealed to him.

Rather, it was because Jeok Hawol constantly paid attention to him—nearly every single day.

And—

The more time those two spent together—

The more uncomfortable Jeok Rua, the captain of the Blood Sect’s guard, became.

‘What on earth is so great about that bastard…’

At first, he had clearly just been a guest.

Even if you went a step further, he was merely a transactional partner.

Jeok Hawol had proposed that the Blood Sect be consolidated and merged into the Demonic Cult, and Jeok Rua had supported her younger sister’s plan, persuading the elders.

But today, she regretted ever agreeing with that plan.

‘Damn it.’

Off in the distance, that damned bastard and her sister were chatting away, smiling.

Jeok Hawol, the current Blood Saintess, was someone she had to protect and was her one and only source of pride.

Up until now, she had believed she was doing a good job safeguarding her sister, but now it felt like that pride had been stolen by some dog of a man who had just rolled in from the outside.

“My damn father treats me too much like a tool, you know. So I just ran away.”

“I-Is that so?”

“I even told him I’d become the next Heavenly Demon, but he didn’t believe me. Even when I demonstrated that I’d mastered the Heavenly Demonic Divine Art right in front of him, he still clung to this thing about divine demonic lineage or whatever and tried to marry me off to that creepy woman from the Mosan Sect.”

Judging from what he said, it sounded like he’d run away because he absolutely didn’t want to be wed in a political marriage.

‘Tch. For someone who’s the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult to act like a runaway brat. He should’ve just married her and shut up. Just die already, you bastard.’

Cheon Taejong, unaware that someone nearby was cursing him (possibly quite literally), continued talking.

“In the middle of all that, that Heavenly Diviner guy told me that my destined partner would be somewhere to the southeast.”

“Y-Your destined partner…?”

Jeok Hawol blinked, her cheeks flushing red.

Seeing her younger sister act like that nearly made Jeok Rua explode with frustration.

But as both the captain of the guard and the personal bodyguard of the Saintess, she couldn’t allow herself to express those emotions openly.

And so, as time passed—

Jeok Hawol and Cheon Taejong only grew closer.

Their late-night secret rendezvous increased with every passing incident.

The time Jeok Hawol kicked her out with all sorts of excuses, saying she didn’t need an escort—Jeok Rua was so upset she ended up chugging precious wine straight from the bottle.

Still, amidst all this, the Blood Sect continued preparing steadily for integration into the Demonic Cult.

If things went smoothly, her younger sister would no longer be the Blood Saintess but the wife of the next Cult Leader.

“Damn it…”

It pained her, but Jeok Rua had no choice. Her sister was clearly happy.

And then, half a year passed.

That was when she encountered a meeting that would completely upend her life.

“Hmmm, is this the place? Where the runaway Young Cult Leader is hiding?”

“…Who are you?”

The one who approached Jeok Rua, who was guarding the entrance, was a boy with such a faint presence it was almost hard to register him.

The only things she clearly remembered were his white hair and rainbow-colored eyes.

“I came here at the Cult Leader’s request, but using someone like me—a top-tier asset—for mere scouting? Honestly.”

“I asked who you are!”

Instead of answering, the boy suddenly said something bizarre.

“Hmm, now that I look closely, you and I are connected by fate. Heh, fate really is a mysterious thing.”

“……”

At those words, Jeok Rua’s expression twisted in displeasure.

That damned bastard who’d shown up eight months ago had said something just like that—and took her sister away.

The faintly-imprinted boy gazed into the valley and muttered softly.

“The Blood Sect… What an unexpected and insignificant variable.”

“What are you even talking about?!”

“It’s too early. Much too early. It’s not yet time for them to be absorbed into the Demonic Cult.”

Jeok Rua didn’t bother issuing a second warning—she simply attacked.

But—

‘W-What is this?!’

The opponent neither blocked nor dodged her sword.

He simply stood there.

And because of that, when her sword sank right into his chest—as if piercing a ghost—Jeok Rua was horrified.

In truth, she had become quite confident in her skills lately.

Not only had she been born with a natural talent for martial arts, but that ‘bastard’ had occasionally reviewed her techniques, and her skills had improved rapidly because of it.

So she believed she could hold her own against most decent fighters.

‘An illusion? No… This isn’t something that cheap.’

Though she’d committed herself to martial arts, she was still from the Blood Sect and had at least some insight into the essence of spellcraft.

“This… Could it be the coexistence of reality and illusion?!”

A legendary spell said to only be possible for those who had reached the transcendent realm known as Heavenly Magic (천법/天法) among spellcasters—one that could bend the laws of physical reality itself!

“I did promise to report back, but… I can’t just leave things like this either.”

Sssssk.

“Y-You! Stop right there!”

“If I really did stop, you’d be in serious trouble. Are you sure you want that?”

Flinch!

He had a point—if he really was a practitioner of Heavenly Magic, there was no way she could handle him.

No— even if the entire Blood Sect mobilized, they’d all be slaughtered.

“Heh heh! You and I are connected by karma. We’ll be seeing each other again soon.”

With those words, the boy with the faint presence vanished.

Left behind, Jeok Rua stared at the now-empty space and muttered,

“Was that… just a nightmare?”

—I can’t just leave things like this either.

What Jeok Rua had witnessed was not a nightmare.

No, it was a vivid and wretched reality.

And just a few days after that boy’s appearance—

What appeared before Jeok Rua’s eyes was:

A righteous faction punitive force numbering in the thousands, marching under the banner of the Wudang Sect—currently considered the closest to being the strongest in the world.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep