In just a single day, the news of Xinyang City being burned to the ground — and every civilian slaughtered — spread like wildfire. It was almost as if someone wanted the world to know.
That same day, people also heard whispers of a new organization no one had ever encountered before: the Blood Cult.
Rumors claimed they had killed not only the citizens, but even elite soldiers of the Empire and the Murim Alliance. They even boasted about kidnapping the son of a great family.
The horrifying tale of an entire city erased in a single day made the every one tremble.
And from that moment on, the era of war began — an era future generations would remember as the time when survival became nearly impossible, even for the strongest.
The same shocking news reached the Murim forces gathered inside the Emperor's chamber.
A man in a black cloak stepped forward. His posture was straight, but sweat dripped down his back. His eyes were trembling, filled with fear — even holding back tears.
He knelt deeply and forced the words out.
"Y-Your Majesty… the mission has failed. All fifty elite guards were killed.
The city of Xinyang… was burned to ashes."
The more he spoke, the more his voice shook.
The Emperor, who had been calmly writing on a scroll, suddenly stopped.
Slowly, he lifted his head and stared at his trembling retainer.
"…What about the innocent people?"
The black-cloaked man swallowed hard.
"There… are two survivors from the alliance," he replied quietly. "In total, five people lived. One was a family that escaped before the attack even began. The remaining two are from the alliance — one warrior… and a monk from the temple."
For a moment, silence.
Then the Emperor moved his hand.
Just a simple swing of his arm — and the black-cloaked man's body collapsed to the floor, lifeless.
He didn't even understand what he had done wrong.
Such was the fate of anyone who stood before the Emperor's anger.
Just because a tiger didn't eat you yesterday… doesn't mean it forgot how to kill.
The Emperor was the same — the moment his wrath stirred, anything in his sight could die.
The Emperor sat back on his throne, his expression unreadable.
Then he began to mutter, almost amused.
"I didn't think this would happen… You truly are extraordinary."
A smile curled across his lips — not of joy, but of a man who had expected chaos and welcomed it.
He lifted his hand, and his attendants leaned forward.
"Spread the news," the Emperor ordered, his voice turning sharp.
"Tell everyone this tragedy happened because of the Murim Alliance's incompetence."
The attendants froze, eyes widening.
The Emperor continued coldly,
"And spread the truth," the Emperor continued.
"Tell the people why this happened."
He dipped his brush into ink, as if the lives of thousands meant nothing to him.
"Announce that the Alliance Leader came to me not long ago… and begged me not to interfere in the affairs of the Central Region."
His voice deepened, dripping with mockery.
"He claimed the Murim Alliance could handle everything alone."
The Emperor set the brush down and looked toward the windows overlooking his empire.
"So now," he said, a cruel smile forming,
"let them take responsibility."
He waved his hand, as if delivering a casual order — not a death sentence to millions.
"And from this moment onward, I declare the Blood Cult the Empire's number one enemy."
His words echoed through the chamber like a decree from heaven.
After a moment of silence, the Emperor leaned back and whispered to himself,
"…Now then, Alliance Leader… what will you do next?"
A faint smirk formed on his face — the smirk of a predator waiting for its prey to make the next move.
At the Murim Alliance headquarters, the Alliance Leader sat on the central seat as his retainer delivered the report.
The man's voice trembled.
"Leader… the entire city was slaughtered. Only Soho and one monk escaped alive. But… we haven't located them yet. They should arrive within a day."
Before the Leader could respond, another messenger burst into the hall and dropped to his knees.
"Leader! An urgent message from the Empire!"
The Alliance Leader raised his hand, signaling him to continue.
The messenger swallowed hard and spoke.
"The Emperor… has declared that the Murim Alliance must take responsibility for the entire incident. He claims you personally told him not to interfere in Central Plains matters. And—"
He hesitated, shaking.
"He has declared the Blood Cult the Empire's number one enemy."
For a moment, the Alliance Leader's composure shattered.
A violent burst of qi exploded from his body, shaking the hall.
Servants were thrown back several meters, gasping for breath.
But just as quickly, he forced himself to calm down.
This was not the time to lose control.
He closed his eyes, thinking deeply.
The Emperor has pushed all the blame onto us… and now the entire world will look to the Alliance for answers. If we don't act, the Murim will collapse.
He opened his eyes sharply.
"Call my strategist," he ordered.
"And summon the Ten Heavens."
The room fell into stunned silence.
To call the Ten Heavens, the ten strongest pillars of the entire Murim Alliance…
Such a gathering had only happened once in history — when the Murim Alliance was first formed.
And now, after fifty years, it was happening again.
Every servant in the hall trembled.
A storm was coming.