Chapter 241: Omen (2)
Baek Mun-jeol asked with a trembling voice.
“What do you mean by saying I figured it out?”
“What else could it mean? It means the guess you just made to yourself was correct.”
“Are you referring to the absurd suspicion that the Black Lotus Lord is Sang-ah?”
Nod!
The Sword King simply nodded in response.
“…Hah.”
Baek Mun-jeol slowly let his arms drop.
He showed no sign of resistance.
The fact that the Clan Leader had appeared in front of him now meant his limbs had already been metaphorically severed.
“Whatever the details are… I was completely played by the Clan Leader, wasn’t I?”
He didn’t know what the Black Lotus was trying to achieve, but the moment he realized that a massive plan had been unfolding beyond his view, his defeat had already been sealed.
Above all, the existence of Baek Mun-yak, the Young Clan Leader currently in the Sword King’s arms, was the decisive blow.
“You really do have a talent.”
The Sword King suddenly praised Baek Mun-jeol.
“…?”
“You tried nearly a thousand antidote methods. Yet not a single one worked.”
Twitch!
Baek Mun-jeol’s expression hardened.
“To think you managed to get your hands on the legendary Heaven-Destroying Poison. Did they provide it to you?”
“…Yes.”
At this point, what was the point in making excuses?
“Fortunately, the dosage wasn’t high, and the duration was short, so we barely managed to detoxify it. Of course, even so, Mun-yak’s life as a martial artist is now over.”
“…”
That was what made the Heaven-Destroying Poison so terrifying.
The destruction of inner will wasn’t temporary.
Now, Baek Mun-yak of the Righteous Sword could never again reach the realm of the Transformation Realm—he had been effectively given a death sentence as a martial artist.
Of course, he might still be able to wield power close to the Master Level… but what good would that do?
The Sword King asked with a tone filled with regret.
“Did you hate this child that much? To the extent that you used the legendary Heaven-Destroying Poison?”
“I did!”
Baek Mun-jeol screamed in fury.
“In every way! I proved my worth by surpassing my older brother. But in the end, for the sole reason that I wasn’t your son, the path to the summit was blocked for me from the very beginning!”
“…”
“Now my older brother will know how I felt. How wonderful. I’ll watch from hell, so go ahead and take my life!”
In that moment, Baek Mun-jeol gave up everything.
He knew there was no point in resisting here.
However—
“Yes, you definitely proved your capabilities.”
The Sword King continued in a calm voice.
“You weren’t a natural-born martial genius like Gongjin, but you had the qualities to eventually reach the Transformation Realm. In other areas, Gongjin couldn’t even compare to you.”
Baek Gongjin of the Celestial Night Sword.
He was one of the only two Master Level martial artists in the Southern Sky, and Baek Mun-jeol’s half-brother.
Baek Mun-jeol gave a bitter smirk.
“What’s the point of praise now? I’ve already sold my soul for power—I’m a sinner.”
“I’ll give you the position of Young Clan Leader.”
Flinch!
Baek Mun-jeol, who had been waiting with his head bowed for the Sword King’s verdict, jerked his chin up at those words.
“W-what? But the next in line is that girl, Sang-ah…”
“Sang-ah will continue to lead the Black Lotus.”
A shiver ran down Baek Mun-jeol’s spine.
The massive demonic faction of the Black Lotus and the righteous might of the Namcheon Baek Clan—
If one could control both forces from the shadows, creating the greatest sect under heaven wouldn’t be a mere dream.
While Baek Mun-jeol was still overwhelmed by the Sword King’s scheme—
“Of course, it won’t come free.”
The Sword King’s eyes turned emotionless for an instant.
“You still have some of the Heaven-Destroying Poison left, don’t you?”
…Nod!
To slowly kill Baek Mun-yak, he had intentionally not administered the full dose of the Heaven-Destroying Poison.
Naturally, more than half of it remained in the porcelain vial he carried.
“It’ll be a simple task for you.”
“What is it?”
Baek Mun-jeol’s dying hope for the Young Clan Leader position reignited his will.
However—
“Use it to kill the Young Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult.”
“…!!!”
Baek Mun-jeol’s expression twisted at the task that was far from simple.
“But, what about the consequences…?”
“The fallout will be pinned on the rats currently sneaking around in our main house.”
Flinch!
The Clan Leader even knew that?
Baek Mun-jeol bit his lip slightly.
He thought he had secured full control of the clan while his opponent was away dealing with the Murim Alliance…
“Will you do it?”
“I will. If you give me the chance… I’ll do anything.”
At this point, Baek Mun-jeol had no other choice.
“Good. Go.”
Baek Mun-jeol bowed deeply to the Sword King, then disappeared with a look of sheer joy on his face.
As he watched Baek Mun-jeol’s retreating figure, the Sword King shook his head bitterly.
“I’m sorry.”
For the first time in his life, the Sword King had lied to one of his own blood.
“I hope your final use will at least be of help to that child, Sang-ah…”
Guilt settled over his face.
***
Although the unexpected ambush by the Namgung Clan delayed things, a few days later, the second round of the martial arts tournament began without issue.
“How’s your body holding up?”
“…A demon cultist like you has no business worrying about me.”
I deliberately approached Baek Cheon-ho and kept trying to strike up a conversation.
Now that I knew he was the Fourth Order of the Heaven-Defying Society, I had no choice but to keep a constant eye on him.
Above all, I believed the key to breaking through the current situation lay with him.
‘There’s no way this guy joined through normal means.’
Maybe it was a rebound from something in his childhood, but this guy had massive desires by nature.
You could tell just from a single fight or a few conversations.
It wasn’t just lust—his greed for power and need for self-display were also glaringly obvious.
‘It’s baffling how someone like this has no desire to improve his martial arts…’
I spoke casually, keeping a bit of distance between us.
“Your goal is the Ten Heavenly Lords, right?”
“…And if it is?”
“You think that’s possible?”
“…What did you say?!”
Right away, I could see killing intent flash in Baek Cheon-ho’s eyes.
I raised a hand to calm him down.
“Relax and listen. I know you were born with the Heavenly Martial’s Body, but that doesn’t guarantee you’ll get a high seat in the Heaven-Defying Society.”
“Keep spouting bullshit like that and I’ll kill you right here.”
As Baek Cheon-ho reached for the spear slung on his back—
“I’ve gone through First Order, Second Order, and Third Order—every level above you.”
Flinch!
That one sentence froze Baek Cheon-ho in place.
Well, First Order was something from my past life, but it wasn’t a complete lie…
I raised one corner of my mouth in a rotten smile and provoked him.
“Did you know? If we’re only judging by ‘current ability,’ you should’ve been ranked as First Order.”
“…!”
Baek Cheon-ho’s eyes started to waver.
“But reality isn’t that kind, is it? Do you know why?”
I laid the truth bare for him.
“It’s because you weren’t born with dense enough blood. That prized bloodline from the Age of Legends. In the Heaven-Defying Society, rankings aren’t decided by strength—they’re decided by how pure your blood is. You’ve sensed it too, haven’t you?”
“…”
There was no guarantee that even the Ten Heavenly Lords were ranked by blood alone.
If you just looked at exceptions, people like Master and Hwan Pyeong still existed.
But the poison of my words would be extremely effective against Baek Cheon-ho as he was now.
“What are you trying to say…”
His momentum weakened.
“First Order Han Mubaek, Second Order Han Muyeon, Third Order Han Museong. All of them have the surname Han. But you? You’re also a Ryeong—but your name is Baek.”
Struck in a sore spot, Baek Cheon-ho couldn’t respond.
“You were never truly acknowledged. And you never will be.”
“So what?”
“I have a proposal for you.”
“Come over to the Heavenly Demon Cult. We’ll provide you with enough support to build an entire household of your own.”
“A household…?”
Instead of answering, I threw another question.
“Do you know the family called the Divine Spear Yang Clan?”
“Of course… I know them.”
There’s no way a spear-user like him wouldn’t know.
The famed spear clan that was expelled from the orthodox sects hundreds of years ago.
Weren’t they one of the Three Great Spear Styles of the Central Plains alongside the Akga Spear and Emei Spear?
“That Divine Spear Yang Clan is now one of our cult’s prestigious houses, leading thousands of retainers. The clan head is one of the Twelve Elders of our cult.”
“…!”
Eighth Elder, the Bloodstream Spear Demon Yang Sobyeong.
He was one of the Heavenly Demon Cult’s renowned extreme martial experts.
“It took about two hundred years for the fallen Yang Clan to rise again. But with my help… it could take just fifty—no, thirty years to reach that same level.”
If they commanded thousands, then they weren’t inferior to Baek Cheon-ho’s original family, the Shandong Akga.
Baek Cheon-ho—no, Ak Cheon-ho—was the illegitimate child of the Akga Clan, treated with contempt within his own family.
I didn’t know exactly what had happened for him to end up here…
But in the end, my offer would be a deadly strike to his most sensitive wound.
“The Heavenly Demon Cult is paradise for people like you. You can live thoughtlessly—fighting, eating, and playing.”
Well, it wasn’t always like that in reality.
But the cult’s public image as a stronghold of power-worship wasn’t far off from this.
And since it was the Demonic Faction Lord himself making such a statement, the apparent credibility would be enormous.
I slowly reached out and rested my hand on Baek Cheon-ho’s shoulder.
Tap!
“…”
As expected, he didn’t shake my hand off.
“I’m not asking you to decide right now. Just don’t take too long.”
Then—
“Kuhuhuhu…”
Baek Cheon-ho suddenly let out a mocking laugh.
“You saying all this out of the blue… must mean things aren’t going so well for your side either, huh?”
“Hmph.”
Though he tried to laugh it off, I knew it was just bait.
If he truly intended to reject me, he would’ve swatted my hand off his shoulder already.
“Yeah. Honestly, things aren’t going that well.”
I admitted it without resistance.
“Otherwise, there’s no way I’d offer you a deal this generous.”
Tap, tap.
“Think about it carefully. Even if you rise to the Ten Heavenly Lords by sheer luck, building a great house alone would cost you your entire remaining lifespan.”
Especially Baek Cheon-ho, who had neither commercial nor literary talent—he wouldn’t manage it even in a hundred years.
“I’ve got the Namcheon Baek Clan…”
“That’s just a transactional relationship. Do you really think Baek Mun-jeol will keep helping you when you’re not even a true blood of the Namcheon Baek? If you ask me, he’ll toss you aside the moment this martial tournament ends.”
“…”
Baek Cheon-ho couldn’t refute a single word.
“It’s still a transaction, but what I’m offering is different. Think it over—seriously.”
With that, I turned away as if I had no lingering regrets.
I could feel Baek Cheon-ho’s gaze on my back, but it no longer held the sharpness or hostility it once did.
‘Alright, I’ve laid down one bait…’
Baek Cheon-ho was only one piece on the board.
Now it was time to throw the second bait.
“Waaaaaaaah!”
“It’s Demonic Heaven Dragon!”
“Demonic Heaven Dragon, Jin Yeomyung!”
“The Holy Star of the Demonic Cult!”
Second Round of the Martial Tournament.
The tale of how I defeated the Seven-Blade Dragon of Mount Hua without even launching a single attack had, in just a few days, spread like a legend.
As I looked around at the crowd roaring from every direction, I thought to myself:
‘Most of them claim to be of the righteous sects, but that doesn’t mean they blindly support the prestigious houses or clans of orthodoxy.’
Why else would martial artists often be described as sword-wielding bandits?
The world of Murim was one where the stronger bandits trampled the weaker ones.
I deliberately ignored my current opponent, Tang Cheon-ak of the Sichuan Tang Clan, and made a grand gesture of salutation to the audience.
“I, Jin Yeomyung of the Heavenly Demon Cult, known as Demonic Heaven Dragon, have a proposal for the comrades of the martial world here today!”
“Huh?”
“W-what’s he doing?”
The moment my voice, reinforced with inner qi, reached the spectator stands, the noisy cheers began to quiet down bit by bit.
Raising a single finger toward the sky, I shouted:
“How many moves it will take me to defeat my opponent—let that be decided by you, the audience present here today!”
“…!!”
“Whether it's in one move, a hundred moves, or a thousand—it matters not! I shall give the right to choose to whoever shouts the loudest!”
“…”
A brief moment of silence passed.
“T-three moves!”
As soon as someone quick-witted blurted that out—
“No, one move!”
“Let’s see what he’s got! Make him last a hundred moves!”
“Uwaaaaaaaaah!!”
In an instant, the cheering returned with even more force than before, shaking the heavens and earth as it thundered across the martial arena.