Under the warm spring sunlight, one thousand seven hundred Black Daoists of the Demonic Cult and Black Heaven Lotus marched out proudly toward the Sichuan branch.
From the high-ranking leaders riding at the very front to the lowliest warriors at the rear, everyone's expressions brimmed with ease.
There was nothing more delightful for soldiers than a battle in which victory was already guaranteed.
The Vice Leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, the "Demonic Dragon Hell" Nok Ak-Cheon, with his crimson hair streaming behind him, rode at the very forefront.
"Hu-hu-hu. With this battle against the Tang Clan, the world will tremble at the might of our cult and the Black Heaven Lotus. I can already see the bewildered faces of the orthodox sects of the Central Plains, panicked at our domination of Sichuan's martial world."
At Nok Ak-Cheon's confident voice, the leaders moving alongside him smiled faintly. The Blood Priest, the Grand Elder, nodded and spoke.
"Of course, it will be a trivial battle, but that is why we must be all the more cautious. The Heavenly Demon Sword has laid everything perfectly for us, but if we make even a single mistake, it will bring us irreparable disgrace."
Mistake.
Here, a mistake did not mean defeat. Since losing was impossible, it referred to failing to minimize casualties.
Securing a great victory with minimal sacrifice was the true essence of this campaign against the Tang Clan. Even though the Tang were now a tiger with broken fangs, their claws had not been blunted.
Their mastery of hidden weapons remained formidable.
But even that had been accounted for by the Heavenly Demon Sword. Wooden shields had been distributed to the troops as preparation.
At the Blood Priest's mention of the Heavenly Demon Sword, Nok Ak-Cheon's eyes narrowed slightly, and the corner of his lips twisted.
"Though the Heavenly Demon Sword devised the stratagem, in the end the glory of victory belongs to the general who leads the charge."
Sensing the sharp edge in Nok Ak-Cheon's tone, those around him bit down bitter smiles.
A strange silence briefly hung in the air. Soon enough, all nodded and voiced agreement.
"He speaks true."
"Indeed. No matter how marvelous the plan, without the general's strength, victory cannot be won."
"I concur."
The elders and Black Heaven Lotus leaders all felt the same as Nok Ak-Cheon. None wished to let the Heavenly Demon Sword claim the lion's share of merit in defeating the Tang Clan.
After all, it was they who would fight directly.
Sensing this sentiment, the Blood Priest smacked his lips and fell silent. What warrior would not covet merit on the battlefield?
Yet in the end, both the cult and the world would know—the true architect of this victory was the Heavenly Demon Sword.
A faint bitterness shadowed the Blood Priest's heart.
The Heavenly Demon Sword, Baek Yunhoe, was without doubt the cult's greatest treasure. But his brilliance was so overwhelming that others' efforts, no matter how hard they tried, were often eclipsed.
Nok Ak-Cheon was one such example.
In truth, before the Heavenly Demon Sword's emergence, Nok Ak-Cheon had been hailed as one of the finest talents in the cult, outstanding even among a host of gifted disciples.
The Cult Leader cherished his son dearly, a fact known to all. And all the cultists acknowledged Nok Ak-Cheon as the rightful successor.
But everything changed with the rise of the peerless genius, Baek Yunhoe.
Having returned alive from the Heavenly Demon Cavern—where no one else had survived—bringing with him the martial arts of the Heavenly Demon Ancestor, Yunhoe was not only a superb martial artist, but also a brilliant strategist and ambitious visionary.
For the past decade, his remarkable exploits both within the cult and on the battlefield had stirred countless hearts.
In particular, among the younger cultists, his prestige had grown dangerously high.
Whenever Yunhoe clashed in opinion with the Cult Leader or the Council of Elders, the younger generation blindly sided with him.
Never before in the cult's history had the authority of the Cult Leader and the Council been so undermined.
Thus, calls arose within the Council to check the Heavenly Demon Sword—but the Cult Leader never consented.
For two reasons.
First, the absolute law of the cult: "The strong reign supreme." Yunhoe was strong, and thus deserved his due.
Second, the martial arts he had obtained from the Heavenly Demon Cavern. He had even bestowed upon the Cult Leader the techniques left by the greatest martial artist in history, the Heavenly Demon Ancestor.
This second reason, most likely, was decisive for the Cult Leader.
Whatever the case, none could deny that Baek Yunhoe was indispensable—the single most crucial figure for unifying the world under the cult.
The problem lay in the future.
What if that unification was achieved?
Could the Cult Leader and the Heavenly Demon Sword continue in such harmony as now?
Two tigers cannot coexist on one mountain.
Lost in such circling thoughts, the Blood Priest bit down a bitter smile.
World unification...
It was the eternal wish none in martial history had achieved! Just the thought of it made his heart race.
To feel such exhilaration was happiness in itself—and its source was the Heavenly Demon Sword.
The Blood Priest shook his head, realizing he was worrying too far ahead. First, they must achieve their great goal of martial supremacy.
And so, even as they marched to attack the Tang Clan, his mind was elsewhere. The other leaders too were absorbed in thoughts of glory and spoils after the battle.
A foolish mindset for men heading to war. Yet none thought to criticize it.
For this time, victory was not speculation but certainty.
Meanwhile, a little behind the leadership, the Black Wolf Division Chief, Cho Jimyeong, heard his subordinate Mongchu whisper:
"Chief, isn't our pace too slow? The Sky Wolf Chief instructed us to finish swiftly once we confirmed the Poison Fog was removed..."
Indeed, their march along the main road was sluggish enough to invite yawns. At this pace, they would arrive at midnight instead of at sunset.
Cho Jimyeong absently adjusted the eyepatch covering his lost right eye, then chuckled.
"They want to show off."
"Pardon?"
"Our high lords wish for more of the world to witness their grand march against the Tang Clan."
At his words, the second captain, Paruk, clicked his tongue.
"Tch! Even if the outcome is certain, this is no child's play. I don't like it."
"…"
"By the way, Chief... are you truly well?"
Cho Jimyeong nodded silently. But Paruk, still worried, pressed on.
"Even if your body has mended, surely wielding the Azure Dragon Halberd with only one eye must still feel strange. Are you really alright?"
A faint, bitter smile touched Cho Jimyeong's lips.
"We likely won't even have to step forward."
At this, Paruk's eyes widened.
"But isn't the vanguard always our duty?"
Mongchu answered for him.
"The Chief is right. We'll probably just be spectators this time."
"Why?"
"Do you think they'll share glory with us?"
Paruk's face contorted. He swallowed a curse and demanded:
"Then why drag us along?"
"To do the cleanup."
"Damn it! We're the Black Wolf Division! To think we'd be reduced to such chores..."
At his outburst, Mongchu bit down a bitter smile.
"The problem is, our division has fallen out of favor. Thanks to the Sky Wolf Chief, we avoided worse punishment—but the Vice Leader holds grudges. You know that."
"Still, this kind of humiliation is too much!"
The two grumbled around their Chief. But Cho Jimyeong's face was grim, his mind elsewhere.
Just before they left the branch, a spy shadowing the Sword Fragrance Hall reported that the Martial Scholar, Cheon Ryuyeong, had returned.
The leadership had all heard. Yet none cared.
Though the Heavenly Demon Sword had often warned them to beware the Martial Scholar, the Poison Fog was already eliminated. At this point, even if that "old scholar" himself appeared, they had nothing to fear.
But Cho Jimyeong could not shake the unease. The scholar's ghostly stratagems still chilled him whenever he recalled them.
"Hm... no. Surely a clever man like him would not rush to aid the Tang Clan. If he does... he'll just be swept away to a meaningless death."
So muttered Cho Jimyeong to himself.
No matter how he strained his mind, he saw no way the Martial Scholar could alter the outcome of this battle.
At least in their last clash, Cheon Ryuyeong had held the advantage of numbers. But now, the disparity in troops was vast—and the masters on their side far stronger.
If the Martial Scholar, out of reckless pride, came to the Tang Clan, then this would be the perfect chance to kill him.
Yet unconsciously, Cho Jimyeong found himself praying not to see him at Tang Clan.
At Cheongseong Mountain's Wolseong Lake, Baek Yunhoe straightened after washing away sweat in the cold water. The Surama Witch, standing beside him, handed him a towel and spoke.
"Chief, shouldn't we pursue the Daoist priests who escaped from Cheongseong?"
Baek Yunhoe took the towel, wiped his face, and shook his head.
"No, leave them be."
The alluring face of the middle-aged beauty twisted in disappointment.
"Why? Only by eliminating them as well can it be a perfect victory."
At her words, spoken as she received the towel back, Baek Yunhoe laughed heartily.
"Hahaha. This is already more than enough of a great victory. You're always so greedy, Samjojang."
"But they must be filled with resentment. For the sake of the future, I think it would be best to eliminate them now. They're poisoned and can't even use lightfoot techniques. If we give chase, we'll catch them quickly."
Just then, Gwan Taerang approached, dragging along Seon Ji-un, once a disciple of Cheongho Dojang of Udon-ri, and joined the conversation.
"Chief, wasn't the original plan to pursue them?"
Baek Yunhoe shrugged as he replied.
"Plans change."
"But still…"
Though doubts filled Gwan Taerang, he trailed off and fell silent. This was a decision made by his superior, the Heavenly Demon Sword. Surely there was an intent behind it he could not see. When he fell silent, the Surama Witch pursed her lips, then turned away.
"Well, if it's a decision from you, Chief, I'll trust it."
As they thought, Baek Yunhoe had not abandoned pursuit for no reason. The escaped Daoist priests would surely come into contact with the Martial Scholar who had unraveled the stratagem of this Cheongseong campaign.
The stronger the Martial Scholar became, the more the orthodox powers would feel threatened and try to suppress him. For Baek Yunhoe, this was not a disadvantage at all. That was why he had deliberately let Bing Bong and Ha Wol live as well.
Meanwhile, Seon Ji-un shook his head at the reactions of Gwan Taerang and the Surama Witch.
Had it been him in their position, he would certainly have demanded the reason. Yet they, though momentarily shaken, followed the Heavenly Demon Sword's decision without question.
How much trust must there be for this to be possible? The thought alone was enough to make him feel overwhelmed.
Baek Yunhoe, seeing Seon Ji-un's gloomy expression, smiled faintly.
"With Cheongseong Sect's defeat, it's settled that you'll work under me for three years. Does that displease you so much?"
"..."
"Don't make such a pained face. I understand how you feel… but in the end, your choice saved the lives of fifty people. By the way, were the hostages safely released?"
Seon Ji-un answered quietly.
"Yes. Thanks to you."
But his voice lacked strength. He had fled from those who had cursed him as a traitor, unable to face them.
Baek Yunhoe's expression suggested he understood.
"Humans are truly fickle. Heh. Did it torment you, seeing them forget you saved their lives, only to hurl blame?"
Seon Ji-un shook his head.
"N-no. I'm fine."
As his subordinates gathered the corpses of Cheongseong disciples for cremation, Baek Yunhoe spoke.
"Do you hate the thought of working under me so much? I suppose it won't be easy—once a disciple of the orthodox sect, now branded a defector to the Demonic Cult. Even if it was in exchange for saving fifty lives."
Seon Ji-un bit his lip hard, then let out a heavy sigh.
"A man's word is worth a thousand pieces of gold. I will keep mine."
Baek Yunhoe folded his arms, fell silent for a moment, then gave a small laugh.
"You may return."
"…What?"
Seon Ji-un looked up in shock. Baek Yunhoe unfolded his arms and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"If your heart is not truly in it, how can you serve me properly?"
"..."
"My greed was excessive. To ask you to work for the very man who killed your master and brothers… even I see how unreasonable that is. Forgive me. My desire for talent blinded me. Go! I won't hold you back."
For a fleeting moment, Seon Ji-un's face changed rapidly. He looked at Baek Yunhoe with a tormented expression before biting down a bitter smile.
"I'm already branded a traitor. Where could I return? Who would ever trust me again?"
"True sincerity can melt away misunderstanding and distrust. For you, regaining trust won't be easy, but it's not impossible."
"..."
"A place to return to? The place you belong is yours to choose. If you can hold your head high, eventually it's others who will bow their heads."
Seon Ji-un clenched his fist, biting his lip hard.
Baek Yunhoe lifted his hand from Seon Ji-un's shoulder and simply gazed at him. After a long silence, Seon Ji-un sighed deeply and answered.
"I made this promise at the cost of fifty lives. I cannot discard the heaviest vow of my life like a piece of trash."
"I only worry for you."
"…What?"
"That endless guilt and regret may consume you."
Seon Ji-un's eyes trembled.
"Y-you're… worrying about me?"
He was truly shocked. Never before in his life had someone kept surprising him so relentlessly.
Especially now.
Why? Why would this man care for him so deeply? Not even his late parents had treated him so.
"Yes. I worry for you. I don't want to see your upright heart ruined because of me."
"I… I…"
Seon Ji-un couldn't form words. Baek Yunhoe tapped his shoulder lightly.
"It was brief, but a good connection. Seon Ji-un, I'll remember your name."
"Chief…"
"I'll stay here a few more days, inspecting the six nearby villages. If you see me again then, don't greet me."
Seon Ji-un stared straight into Baek Yunhoe's bright, open eyes. This man truly intended to let him go.
Why then… did a strange pang of sorrow rise in his chest?
"What is it you intend to do while staying here, Chief?"
"Cheongseong Sect has fallen. Soon, the bullies and scum who've been hiding will crawl out."
Seon Ji-un recalled their first meeting, when Baek Yunhoe had spoken of winning the people's hearts.
"You mean… you're even considering such things?"
Baek Yunhoe stretched, smiling gently.
"The Cult Leader won't arrive in Sichuan for another hundred days. Why do you think I came so early?"
Seon Ji-un shook his head, confused. Then Baek Yunhoe spoke.
"To gather the people's hearts in Sichuan. That's why I refused the Cult Leader's invitation to await the end of his closed-door training, and came ahead as vanguard."
"..."
"In the lands we conquer, the people will learn. We are no longer the Demonic Cult of death and terror. I'll start here, at Cheongseong Mountain."
Seon Ji-un nodded slowly, his eyes brightening at last. His resolve hardened.
"Among the followers you've gathered, are there others like me—people not from the demonic path? If there are, please place them with me. Then I won't feel so alone in this work."
Was it so unexpected? Baek Yunhoe's eyes widened, then he laughed silently. Either way, he was pleased. Seon Ji-un had shown genuine willingness to cooperate.
Smiling, his white teeth gleaming, Baek Yunhoe shook his head.
"Unfortunately, I don't have any such people yet."
Seon Ji-un responded with a look that suggested he had expected as much.
"Well… I suppose it wouldn't be easy."
"But it will change. I intend to open my heart even to orthodox warriors, if they share my vision. When the time comes to rule the world, we will surely need such allies."
Seon Ji-un shook his head again, amazed.
This man's breadth of vision was unbelievable. To think, even as he launched the unprecedented war for world unification, he was already thinking of what lay beyond.
"…Then… am I the first non-cult member you've ever taken in?"
Baek Yunhoe shook his head with a small smile.
"Sorry, but no. Recently I even tried to recruit the Martial Scholar."
He lifted his gaze to the sky, his expression distant, as though recalling the past. Sunlight fell into his eyes, now lost in memory.
"And there was one more… ah! Long ago, I once wished to make a certain little brat my own. That was probably the first time."