Chapter 50: But That Wasn’t the Case

After much deliberation, Daizheng Sect Leader, Wang Gae-yuk decided to join the mission to rescue the missing people.

It wasn’t an easy decision.

Even if there was a spy within the sect, the enemy was a group capable of evading the eyes of both Hao Clan and Beggars’ Sect.

Not to mention, they had the means to provide such a vile demonic art.

However, crisis was also opportunity.

Even the mere attempt at this mission would earn them great fame.

Fame translated to influence, and influence meant power.

Daizheng Sect could rise to become the dominant force in Huangquan.

Besides, their guests were all peak-level masters.

Daizheng Sect itself had two peak-level experts—Wang Gae-yuk and the Guardian Elder, both in the early peak stage.

With the guests, that made six peak-level fighters.

A terrifying force.

They could easily handle an early super-transcendent realm expert.

For these reasons, Wang Gae-yuk threw himself into the preparations—meticulously, and very, very slowly.

The ideal outcome?

By the time the rescue party arrived, the mysterious group would have already disappeared, leaving behind only the corpses of the missing people.

They would be hailed as righteous heroes for setting out to rescue the victims, without actually facing an enemy that could harm the disciples.

That was why he wasn’t rushing.

Instead, he made a big show of checking and rechecking the disciples’ formation.

He inspected their weapons, then made them polish them again before sending them back for another round of inspection.

He counted and recounted the number of bandages and medicinal pills, then sent people to a faraway physician to fetch more, dragging out the process even further.

Some might scoff at such shallow tactics, but for a sect to mobilize its full strength in battle was a matter of survival.

The young masters from the Hidden Dragon Society saw through the act but chose to overlook it.

While Daizheng Sect kept busy putting on a performance, the guests used the time to chat.

"So, what exactly happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"That guy—Wang Sun-man."

"What about him? A bad guy did bad things. End of story."

Pang Daesan frowned.

"You know that’s not what I meant."

"What? Why?"

Pang Dae-san's face grew serious.

"It was too dangerous. That bastard…"

He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Wang Sun-man had barely resembled a human being.

If one had to describe it as a human form, then it was like sticking four sticks onto a torso, slapping something round on top, and calling it a person.

His skin had been peeled away while keeping him alive, his muscles sliced apart, twisted, knotted, and bound in ways that left patches of white bone exposed, only thin strands of flesh keeping them connected.

His chest had been flayed open, revealing his organs, which were still twitching and pulsing visibly.

The world was full of lunatics, but this was the work of a true madman, a butcher among butchers.

"What if you'd been the one caught by such a vicious fiend? And you went alone—you could have at least warned me, no, warned all of us."

Peng Daesan, unable to utter the horrific thought, vaguely lumped the subject together, leading Qing to misunderstand.

The vicious fiend Qing understood was Wang Son-man.

But Qing misunderstood.

Qing thought Pang Daesan was worried about them getting caught by Wang Sun-man.

What, was he worried that she might have been attacked instead?

Qing had no intention of hiding their handiwork.

If Pang Daesan had asked why they did it, they would have simply answered, There was a bastard, so I played with him.

There was no shame in something they felt no guilt over.

But Pang Daesan, unable to fathom that Qing was the true culprit, had fabricated some imaginary monster in their place.

In fact, everyone had.

Daizheng Sect Leader Wang Gae-yuk believed that Qing had rescued his second son.

Meanwhile, Wang Sun-man lay in bed, wrapped in bandages from head to toe.

It would be a long time before this ridiculous misunderstanding was cleared up.

Qing, amused by their junior’s concern, thumped their own chest with a hearty laugh.

It jiggled.

"This body is in the late peak stage. I don’t take advice from those weaker than me."

"You…! No, never mind."

Pang Daesan swallowed back his frustration.

Annoying as it was, Qing was right.

Qing was ranked above Peng Daesan.

Telling Qing to be careful just because they were a woman could be taken as a grave insult.

Most female martial artists were sensitive about such things.

So instead, he made a silent vow to himself.

Fuck this. I need to reach a higher realm as soon as possible.

"Still… the Heart-Devouring Art. That’s some sick shit."

"Oh? Chang-bin, you know about the Heart-Devouring Art?"

"Uh, well… everyone does, right?"

"What? Is it really that famous? Do you know about it too, sword comrade?"

"Of course. Any disciple of the righteous path should have the names of the eleven great demonic arts memorized."

"Huh? Wait, why? What’s the point?"

"Because they must be eradicated. Anyone who claims to be righteous must either kill those who practice them or report them to the Murim Alliance for elimination. It’s a basic responsibility."

"Sounds like a lot of work for the righteous faction. But wait… eleven? People usually count in fives or tens, don’t they?"

The people of Zhonghua loved their rankings—always in multiples of five or ten.

There were the Nine Sects plus One School, the Five Great Clans, and the Ten Great Clans.

But eleven?

Qing tilted their head.

Namgung Shin-jae didn’t delay and explained,

"First, there is the deadliest of all, the most dangerous, worst one of all the demonic arts. That is..."

He was referring to Blood Absorption Demonic Art.

A type of internal qi stealing technique, it didn’t just steal inner qi but also drained acupoints and the true essence itself.

The moment one’s true essence was completely taken, they would die instantly.

Victims of Blood Absorption Demonic Art were found shriveled up like dried corpses, much like what modern-day people would call mummies.

Whenever such a body was discovered, it sent shockwaves through both righteous and demonic factions alike.

A practitioner of this art, if left unchecked, would only continue to grow stronger, and the more energy they absorbed, the more they lost their humanity—becoming nothing but a monster driven by the hunger for more.

It was, quite literally, the ultimate predator of martial artists.

"Aside from that, there are the Ten Great Demonic Arts. Alongside the Heart-Devouring Art that came up today, there's Heavenly Wheel Demonic Calamity, Blood-Reversal Sutra, Hundred-and-Eight Asura Blades, Frantic Murderous Qi, Sky-Piercing Slaughter, Black Execution Palm, Half-Sword God Armament— no, Unrestrained Saber God Armament."

Pang Dae-san growled.

"How long are you gonna keep going on about the 'half sword' thing?"

"A true gentleman does not deceive with flowery words. A true swordsman does not lie with sweet talk."

"What the hell do gentlemen have to do with swordsmen?"

"Because the sword is a gentleman’s weapon. That’s what makes one a swordsman."

That was his way of saying he wouldn’t stop.

Qing listened while folding their fingers one by one.

When only two fingers remained, they raised them.

Pang Dae-san let out a deep sigh and filled in the last two.

"The Purple Lightning Demonic Arts, and the White Hand Demonic Arts."

"Huh?"

Everything had made sense until now, but suddenly, a familiar name popped up.

The very technique that Zhuge had recommended to them.

Wait.

Did that bastard Zhegal give me one of the Eleven Great Demonic Arts?

Zhuge Ihyeon would have jumped in outrage at the mere suggestion.

He had never imagined Qing would actually cultivate it.

At the time, he had been about to warn them—he had fully intended to—but he had gotten interrupted.

"Uh… is being one of the Eleven Great Demonic Arts… really that bad?"

"Are you seriously asking that? The defining trait of a demonic art is that the more you use it, the more it corrupts you. It erodes your mind until you lose your humanity. You become more violent, cruel, incapable of restraint. A demon is born."

"But… isn’t it possible for someone not to turn into a demon?"

"The reason those eleven arts were specifically designated as Great Demonic Arts is either because the process of mastering them is so gruesome, or because they are simply far too dangerous for someone with a demonic nature to possess."

"Then what about the White Hand Demonic Arts?"

"Is that the only one you've heard of?"

Pang Daesan sighed again.

How could someone this clueless survive in the treacherous world of Murim?

"White Hand Demonic Art is dangerous because it's simply too powerful."

The danger of the White Hand Demonic Arts lay in the unique qi wave called the White Hand Cold Poison, the Penetrating Meridian.

Once someone infected by it, the energy would seep into their body, twisting and bursting their meridians.

The danger of the White Hand Demonic Arts lay in the unique qi wave called the White Hand Cold Poison, the Penetrating Meridian.

This was a common trait shared by other demonic arts derived from White Hand Demonic Arts, such as Blood Poison Demonic Art and Flame Poison Demonic Art.

Qing broke into a cold sweat internally.

What the fuck. That’s bad news if I get caught.

They had thought people were overreacting about demonic arts, but this was some next-level paranoia.

Then again, these were the original martial arts zealots—so maybe it made sense that their brains worked like this.

That aside…

Qing couldn't help but feel a little proud.

A technique so powerful it scared people.

And who was its master?

None other than Qing.

At least Zhegal had recommended something worthwhile.

As long as no one found out, everything would be fine.

After all, dead men told no tales.

"Did you hear anything about those 'bad guys'?"

"I don’t know? But he did say he knew the missing people would never come back."

"Hmm."

"I have a rough idea who they are."

Qing briefly recounted what had happened at Dongjeong Lake.

A lunatic woman who created Jiangshi had been masquerading as a Murim Alliance patrol officer.

A Demonic Cannibal had shown up.

And then, of course, the ridiculously powerful Qing had appeared, taken them both down, and saved everyone.

"Wait, Sword Comrade. Did you say you killed a Demonic Cannibal?"

"Of course. And it was a one-versus-six fight, too. I’m pretty amazing."

"Oho! Sword Comrade! As expected, all great matters in the world are resolved by the sword! Truly magnificent!"

It was the undeniable truth.

Those five Jiangshi children had technically been on the Demonic Cult’s side, hadn’t they?

Pang Dae-san scoffed at Qing's smug expression.

"You mean you were the six."

"Well… yeah, pretty much. Otherwise, how the hell would I have beaten a super-Transcendent master with overflowing murderous qi?"

Qing was completely unfazed.

Then, as they listened to the conversation, Chang-bin hesitantly spoke up.

"Uh, so… doesn’t that mean we’re about to march straight into the kind of place where people like that operate? Wouldn’t it be better to request help from the Murim Alliance—"

Qing frowned and shot Chang-bin a look.

Just as they were about to convince him by explaining how those left behind had already thrown away their lives along with their missing loved ones—

"Lady Ximen? If you look at me like that… ahem, I’m not opposed to the rescue, I just… Never mind. With this many peak masters, I suppose we’ll be fine…"

Chang-bin’s little rebellion was immediately crushed.