Accumulating two different kinds of core energy was normally dangerous. It invited qi deviation, for there was no telling how internal energies of differing natures might clash within the finer meridians.

Jung Yeonshin was different. He could immediately recirculate the core energy he had sent through a full circuit and change its nature. His innate control over core energy made this possible. It was also why he had so easily absorbed spirit medicines, including the standard-issue spirit pills and the Purple Radiance Pill.

He had already removed even the formula responsible for madness. That meant he could use the Demonic Asura Blood Art without side effects.

“You’ve already learned the basics? Really...?”

Surprise spread across the Seventh Apostle’s face as well.

Those who practiced the most extreme martial arts of the evil and unorthodox paths were inevitably sensitive to arts of the same kind. Their energy had such distinctive traits that they could immediately sense a superior art.

The ordinary followers’ Blood-Surpassing Art was bound to quail before the Apostles’ Demonic Asura Blood Art.

And this was a religious cult.

“Energy waves so pure...”

“Could he be a pureblood of the Cult Leader’s line?”

The Blood Flame cultists began to bow. All around him came the thuds of knees hitting the ground.

“Grand Preceptor! O Grand Preceptor!”

“Lead our Cult to Beijing!”

“Turn the hair of your unworthy followers black, and bestow upon us a more perfect Blood-Surpassing Art!”

Heartfelt pleas burst out from every direction. The atmosphere was solemn, their cries steeped in an earnestness born of fanaticism.

This was not what Go Jonghak had intended. The platform from which he had stirred their expectations had become a stage for praise and supplication.

Jung Yeonshin stood quietly, circulating the Demonic Asura Blood Art. With its madness removed, the superior Blood Art exuded a tranquil presence.

The cultists stared wide-eyed, as though determined to etch even the faint flutter of his blood-colored robe into their memories.

Did he look noble to them?

At this moment, Jung Yeonshin was the Blood Flame Cult’s Grand Preceptor. To these unorthodox followers, he seemed to be nothing else.

“...”

Without answering, he turned aside and walked away. None of the ordinary followers dared approach him. He ignored Go Jonghak’s silent glare as well.

Only the Seventh Apostle immediately followed him.

“I never imagined you would achieve minor success in a single night. So your talent really isn’t limited to creating arts, is it? Your capacity for martial mastery itself is immense.”

The keen light peculiar to masters flickered in her red eye. Jung Yeonshin merely glanced at her before looking ahead again.

Then he slowly spoke.

“I need to look around headquarters. Not just this once. I’ll need to do it regularly.”

“Is there a reason?”

“If I’m to devise and organize new formulas, sitting in meditation in a room won’t give me inspiration.”

“Hmm.”

“Bodhidharma trained facing a wall. I’m very different. I can’t do that. I need fresh air, and I need to feel nature. I also have to observe the martial characteristics of your followers. The same goes for the Demonic Asura Blood Art.”

He suddenly stopped and looked at the Seventh Apostle. Unfazed, she met his gaze with her single, feverish eye.

“I’ve never created a martial art for someone else,” Jung Yeonshin said. “There’s a great deal I need to know. Your everyday breathing, your gait, your gestures, even the beliefs underlying your intent. To circulate internal energy along the optimal route, I need to know everything about the practitioner. I can’t learn all that sitting in one place.”

“Yes, what you’re saying—”

“The same applies to the Blood-Surpassing Art. Only by experiencing the Blood Flame Cult’s ethos firsthand can I adapt it into a universally usable martial art.”

Despite his interruption, the Seventh Apostle was practically panting. She seemed intensely excited.

Was she feeling ecstasy? He had only used the promise of a properly tailored martial art as an excuse.

‘So it really is true. She thinks I’m prey she’s already caught.’

His words had worked, just as he had hoped they might on a lunatic.

He had won freedom of movement. With the Seventh Apostle accompanying him, it seemed he could go anywhere.

“The Cult Leader’s Palace inner courtyard first.”

Even as he spoke, Jung Yeonshin strode forward without hesitation.

‘I trust the Fortress, but I still need to take measures.’

Realistically, the Desolate Fortress would not have much force it could mobilize immediately. Trouble never ceased in Murim. He had heard it was rare for even thirty percent of the Divine Sword Squad’s seventeen squads to be gathered at the Fortress. They were scattered across the Central Plains on missions.

He was inside the Blood Flame Cult. He had to do everything he could.

“Wait here,” he told the Seventh Apostle.

“All right.”

She nodded and stood still. She was strangely obedient. Her lone eye held his reflection in red.

“Grand Preceptor.”

He was at the thirty-six steps leading up to the Cult Leader’s Palace. Blood Master Swordsmen who appeared to be standing guard offered brief bows. He acknowledged them with a nod.

Jung Yeonshin set a hand on the railing and drew up his core energy.

He could not hide the spreading energy waves. But he had already given his explanation. The very reason he had been brought captive to the Blood Flame Cult now served as his pretext. His talent as a Grandmaster of martial creation allowed him to justify anything he did as a search for inspiration.

‘Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike.’

Just as the energy of Dharma power was about to arise, Jung Yeonshin changed its circulation route to that of the Demonic Asura Blood Art.

HUM.

His core energy underwent a peculiar change. Deep within the Blood Art’s energy lay the nature of the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike.

His control of martial power bordered on the miraculous. In this moment, he took another step forward, reaching a level where his peerless senses could adjust the innermost structure of core energy.

‘Though it doesn’t affect the amount of power.’

In short, it was a deception. The power of the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike wore the shell of a Blood Art, so that even a master of the highest order could not imagine its true nature.

He leaned lightly against the railing, resting his hand on it, and asked with feigned casualness, “Marble. Where was it brought from?”

“I understand it came from the Dali Kingdom in Yunnan before its fall, Grand Preceptor,” a Blood Master Swordsman standing to one side answered respectfully.

Nodding absently, he ran his hand over the railing. At the same time, he planted the power of the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike within it, disguised as Blood Art core energy.

He did not stop there. He drew upon the inspiration he had gained from the Twin Flame Blood Spirit Enchantment surrounding headquarters. Using the skills of an Enchantment, he locked the infused energy in place to keep it from dispersing.

The power immediately sank into the stone. It settled deep inside, no longer emitting even the faintest energy wave.

“Sturdy,” he said, stroking the smoothly carved wall.

It could not hold a large amount the way a spirit medicine could.

But if his plan succeeded, he might truly be granted even a piece of the world tree’s fruit.

“I’ll come again.”

The Blood Master Swordsmen bowed at Jung Yeonshin’s farewell. The Seventh Apostle followed him, smiling brightly.

“You have something of an eye. Every structure in our Cult holds at least several decades of history. If you look carefully, you might even find objects possessing a spiritual nature. I’ll show you precious, sacred sights you can see nowhere but here.”

“All of that is inspiration. It certainly is impressive.”

Jung Yeonshin answered with an indifferent expression. The Seventh Apostle beamed.

* * *

Time passed.

Two fortnights went by. Sunset and dawn alternated more than thirty times. The Blood Flame cultists grew quite accustomed to their young Grand Preceptor.

For over a month, Jung Yeonshin repeated the same task.

Railings, steps, rafters, earthen floors, roofs... He roamed the Blood Flame Cult, planting the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike throughout it. His routes mainly centered on the Cult Leader’s Palace.

He also studied various Enchantments, including the Twin Flame Blood Spirit Enchantment.

‘Unless activated, an Enchantment’s medium is merely an inanimate object. Even martial artists can’t sense it. Neither can the Cult Leader.’

He did not know whether the same held true for the noble race.

But there were no noble-race followers in the Blood Flame Cult. Perhaps that was because their clans were closely tied to the imperial household from birth.

Meanwhile, the Seventh Apostle was ordered to take the field.

She came to him looking intensely excited. The killing intent flowing through her entire body was vicious.

“It’s obvious what happened. Bringing you here was a considerable risk for both me and the Cult. They must have scoured everything within about a month’s journey of Azure Wild Valley. Whether to take you back or annihilate our Cult, I don’t know.”

“Both, I expect,” Jung Yeonshin replied casually from where he sat cross-legged.

‘It’s begun.’

He had sensed it when he went outside today. The Blood Flame Cult’s headquarters was astir.

Martial artists were reportedly searching the surrounding area. A sizable force, at that.

“Shaolin, Zhongnan, and Mount Hua are just the ones reported. Apparently even the scraps of local sects have swarmed over. Well over five hundred, they say, including white robes and blue robes from the Desolate Fortress.”

The Seventh Apostle’s eye narrowed as she spoke. She extended a pale hand.

Her long fingers stroked down Jung Yeonshin’s head, tremendous martial power alive in every joint. The heavy waves of energy radiating from her were immense.

“I won’t give you to anyone. Don’t entertain any fleeting hopes. You’re already mine.”

“You said no one had discovered this place in hundreds of years.”

“That’s right.”

The corners of the Seventh Apostle’s lips rose.

“The Twin Flame Blood Spirit Enchantment is no art of the mortal world. An army of a million could pass by without noticing it.”

“...”

Even to Jung Yeonshin, their sorcerous Enchantment lay beyond the human realm. Merely discerning part of its structure had enabled him to use Enchantment formulas. It was so sublime that even the Blood Flame Cult trusted it absolutely.

They had an unparalleled Enchantment at their backs. He needed to know what they were planning.

He gazed steadily at the Seventh Apostle and spoke.

“Yet you’re taking the field? Why not lie low and wait for the storm to pass? Showing yourselves would only confirm your location.”

“Are you worried about me? My precious possession! How happy that makes me!”

She spread her arms to embrace him, her hands carrying the madness of someone handling a possession.

HUM!

Jung Yeonshin raised the Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike along the blade of his hand.

Supreme masters were hard to hit only because their movements were so refined. If he landed a blow, he could inflict a critical wound.

Just as when he had taken her eye.

“When will you stop being so prickly?”

He rose, disgusted by the Seventh Apostle’s petulance. He had spent a fair amount of time here, but it had only deepened his loathing for the Blood Flame Cult.

These creatures’ staple was not food, but people. Every day, they captured martial artists and common folk, sucked out their blood and core energy, then discarded them. They even possessed enough medical knowledge to fear epidemics, and regularly burned the bodies.

Inwardly shaking his head, he reviewed what he had to do.

‘I requested an audience with the Blood Flame Cult Leader.’

He had been about to deposit today’s allotment of Demon-Slaying Gentle Flowing Strike power in the Cult Leader’s Palace.

“We need to establish where those orthodox vermin are if our Cult’s activities are to continue, don’t we? I’ll be going out for a little while. You stay here and behave.”

The Seventh Apostle finally answered his question. Jung Yeonshin left the room without replying.

The end was approaching. His instincts told him so.

So strongly, in fact, that even running into an unwelcome face stirred little feeling in him.

“At this point, a thought occurs to me.”

Go Jonghak, the Third Apostle’s son, blocked his path while stroking his thick jaw.

He had worked tirelessly over the past month to undermine Jung Yeonshin’s standing. Nor could he simply be dismissed. His martial training was formidable enough to subdue even a typical Blood Master Swordsman within ten moves.

“I heard the Grand Preceptor possessed talent worthy of contending for the title of greatest under heaven.”

His lips curled slightly.

“I cannot fathom how you deceived the Cult Leader’s divine eyes. I have shown you due respect all this time, but as a follower, I am deeply concerned by your lack of any worthy achievement.”

Perhaps it was because Jung Yeonshin had calmly brushed off every provocation. Lately, his words and actions had grown blatant.

“Say what you want to say,” Jung Yeonshin told him.

The answer came through sound transmission.

“Kill yourself, you lowborn wretch with no one left to protect you.”

His words were strange. Everyone knew the Seventh Apostle doted on the Grand Preceptor. Did he intend to launch a sneak attack while she was briefly away?

It happened then.

‘Hmm?’

A sudden strand of wind swept past, drawing his collar closed as though it were alive. The breeze brushing his ear seemed to whisper something.

He had felt this before, on his first mission. When Chung Myung demonstrated his movement technique, the noble race’s power had reached him as a mysterious wind.

“Think what you like.”

Jung Yeonshin spoke in a level voice and turned away.

Whether Go Jonghak raged in fury or followed him instead of leaving, he paid no attention.

He headed for the outskirts without a moment’s hesitation and soon arrived.

HUM...

It was where he had first encountered the Twin Flame Blood Spirit Enchantment with the Seventh Apostle, a place suffused with a wondrous atmosphere, as though space itself were rippling.

She was beyond that barrier.

“Ah.”

A low sound escaped him unbidden.

He saw her at once. The moment she entered his sight, she was etched into his mind.

His lifeline. His salvation.

A woman stood there in long, pale-green martial robes that at first glance resembled court attire. In profile, she held her head slightly raised. Her skin, pale as white porcelain, shone with a smooth luster.

The rest of the scenery seemed to lose its color. Sunlight haloed the elegant bridge of her nose. The swaying thickets around her seemed one with her.

Her pale-green hair, as though imbued with a spring breeze, fell long enough to cover her back, radiating mystery.

Hers was no human presence. Though she must have kept her internal energy entirely contained, she still revealed a terrifying bearing.

At last, she turned her head.

Her green eyes came into view, brilliantly reflecting the sun above. They held an overwhelming abyss.