CHAPTER 64

The Blood Flame Cult was precisely the heretical sect proclaimed by the Imperial family. Their words and thoughts were unpredictable.

Given the size of their following, their doctrines should have been widely known, yet even the Imperial family had failed to completely unravel their teachings over the years.

Jung Yeonshin quietly asked,

"Did you call me?"

"Yes, Taesa (Grand Master)."

A Blood Master Swordsman, kneeling and bowing low, replied.

"······."

The Jung family was the foremost clan in Xinye County, Henan.

To wield authority without appearing laughable required refinement.

Even their disowned children could not neglect their studies.

Jung Yeonshin had learned the basics of the Four Books and the Five Classics.

It was said that all things under heaven operated by clear cause and effect. The same applied to incidents in the martial world.

If one traced back an incomprehensible outcome, there would always be an inexplicable cause.

The Blood Flame Cult, deemed a congregation of madmen, was said to be a cluster of the unfathomable. Radiant Demon Squad's Lightning Genius's talent, was no different.

He created the Blood Flame Cult's opposing martial techniques, which no one had devised since the time of Bodhidharma.

He even founded the Sword Song, notorious for widespread massacres by the sword, a precedent unheard of.

It was a feat that far exceeded his apparent martial abilities.

Thus, his abduction had been inevitable. Chung Myung and Baek Miryeo had warned him long ago.

If other sects discovered Jung Yeonshin's talent, they would either recruit or kill him.

The Blood Flame Cult had simply chosen the former.

"I've made it known to the main sect."

The Seventh Apostle smirked. Her smile was far from beautiful. Perhaps it was the madness that cut through the skin like a blade.

Her lone crimson eye scanned Jung Yeonshin. She whispered slowly,

"Your astonishingly rapid accomplishments, your unparalleled creativity, your unwavering composure when cutting down enemies—what would happen if we planted Blood Arts in your body? The sect might witness the birth of a Young Cult Leader after over a hundred years."

It was said that the Blood Arts belonged to the realm of sorcery.

Once mastered, the practitioner's entire network of veins, from the crown point to the brain, would be distorted.

This facilitated the indoctrination of the Blood Flame Cult's teachings.

A cult of madmen in the martial world.

Because brainwashing was their intent, they broke norms repeatedly, calling the enemy of their faith "Grand Master" without hesitation.

It was incomprehensible by logic. It was a fitting act for a heretical sect.

Jung Yeonshin replied calmly,

"Speaking of a Young Cult Leader is laughable. I've cut down many of your cultists."

"Children who faithfully spilled blood according to our doctrine have shed their flesh and ascended to Paradise. Our retribution is not mere revenge. It is the burning of paper money with blood, praying for blessings in Paradise."

"There has never been a history where rulers who desired immortality welcomed heirs."

"That is but idle fear. Only he shall forever sit upon the cult leader's throne."

The Seventh Apostle's lone eye curved into a faint smile.

"Young Cult Leader is meant literally. Become my little cult leader as Taesa."

"Taesa!"

"Perfect the Blood Arts!"

Before he realized it, many people had gathered. Perhaps it was because the Blood Master Swordsman had paid respects in the middle of the street.

A circle of red-haired figures formed. It was an eerie sight.

As if satisfied, her voice resonated with energy.

"I spoke of your talents. There is an ancient teaching in our sect. The third verse of the Flame Scripture."

"Endure with unyielding strength!"

The cultist who addressed him as Taesa shouted solemnly.

The Seventh Apostle gave a slight nod, and he bowed deeply as if overwhelmed.

The Seventh Apostle stared intently into Jung Yeonshin's eyes and said,

"It speaks of red hair. It is the heavenly punishment one bears the moment they master Blood Arts in the Central Plains. Those who see red-haired cultists seek to hunt and kill them."

"Do you not frequently hunt and kill commoners yourselves?"

Jung Yeonshin spoke his mind, surrounded by over a hundred Blood Flame Cultists.

He wanted to gauge their reactions before deciding how to respond. Yet no one reacted, not even the Seventh Apostle.

Jung Yeonshin felt as though he had fallen alone into another world.

The Seventh Apostle continued with a thin smile,

"It must have been natural at first. The glorious traces of the Blood Arts became heavenly punishment because of two groups—the righteous sects who proclaim their virtue and the Imperial family that calls us heretics."

"······."

"You will help them overcome it. You can alter the cultivation formulas of the Blood Arts to make internal energy control easier. With your talent in creating divine martial arts, you can turn these children's red hair black."

She was asking him to render the Blood Flame Cultists indistinguishable by appearance, a task akin to bringing catastrophe.

As soon as she finished speaking, several people stood up.

"Endure with unyielding strength!"

"Perfect the sacred Blood Arts!"

"Taesa! Ah, Taesa!"

'Madmen.' 

Jung Yeonshin muttered inwardly.

Calling the Blood Arts sacred and demanding advancements in formulas.

Claiming endurance while asking him to change their hair color. It was all contradictions.

He had thought heretics would be more conservative. They were not.

Their nature bordered on chaos. They were content with whatever was useful.

To roam freely in the Central Plains, they had welcomed Jung Yeonshin as Taesa.

Their intent was obvious, yet their gazes already brimmed with admiration as they looked upon Lightning Genius of the Desolate Fortress.

Amid the frenzy, the Seventh Apostle smiled.

"Young Grandmaster, you will pave the future of our sect."

Jung Yeonshin did not respond.

Lowering his gaze, lost in thought, he merely stood silently.

Only after the commotion died down did the crowd disperse.

Then the Seventh Apostle reached out again. The waves of energy condensed on her slender fingers were palpable.

The density was overwhelming. It seemed she bore no burden of intent when wielding internal energy.

She gently grasped Jung Yeonshin's sleeve, as though escape was impossible.

Her lips moved.

"Let us go, my Young Cult Leader, our Taesa."

Jung Yeonshin followed in silence.

Within the Blood Flame Cult's main hall, a breeze brushed against his cheek, strangely comforting.

Perhaps it was because he had long acknowledged his short lifespan.

Or maybe he simply had a naturally resolute heart.

The Blood Flame Cult was an entirely different world. His thoughts could not help but wander.

'Even the cultivation techniques must be peculiar.'

It was said to have regenerative properties.

Perhaps, just perhaps—it might change his fate without the World Tree's fruit.

The Young Grandmaster walked on in silence.

Passing through several palace-like halls with the Seventh Apostle, they finally reached a grand hall.

As Jung Yeonshin memorized every detail of the enemy stronghold, he instinctively counted the stairs.

Thirty-six steps. A number laden with meaning.

'The Thirty-six Heavenly Spirits of Taoism. The thirty-six afflictions of Buddhism.'

It was said that sects rooted in religion often built symbolic structures.

These symbols were often clues to decoding their secret techniques.

Careful not to be caught by the Seventh Apostle's gaze, he climbed the stairs.

As soon as he reached the top, the crimson-painted doors swung open.

"Come closer."

The voice was smooth.

A silver-haired man sat alone on an elevated throne, beckoning him.

With his pale face and elegantly arched nose, he looked as noble as royalty, yet he lounged with one leg draped over the chair's base.

No noticeable energy emanated from him, though he was the Blood Flame Cult Leader, one of the most formidable martial artists in the world.

'Surely not.'

Jung Yeonshin recalled the Lord of the Desolate Fortress smiling as she savored the breeze.

It was right before his duel with Ma Se-in, his maternal cousin.

He had realized far too late that a sword hung at her waist.

"The Cult Leader has spoken. Did you not hear?"

One of those standing on either side of the Blood Flame Cult Leader said, his tone imposing.

He was a middle-aged man with jet-black hair.

Unlike the Cult Leader, he exuded overwhelming energy, immediately revealing himself as another Apostle.

"Does a Taesa rank below an Apostle?"

Jung Yeonshin asked without changing his tone.

He referred to himself as Taesa.

The Seventh Apostle burst into laughter.

The eerie echo of her laughter, resonating through the opulent hall, carried a hint of ecstasy.

Even in the presence of the Cult Leader, her laughter did not cease.

"Your question is reasonable. Taesa and Apostle hold equal ranks." 

She answered with a radiant smile.

"It is repulsive that a wretch from the Desolate Fortress dares to call himself the Taesa of our sect, especially when his position has yet to be confirmed."

The middle-aged man spoke with a calm expression.

The Apostles showed all manner of behavior before the Cult Leader.

Unlike the Blood Master Swordsmans and other followers, their demeanor was astonishingly free.

He continued slowly,

"I have already received the Cult Leader's approval. If what is said of your talent proves true, even if you are granted the Blood Arts, you will not be cleansed of your mind and body in the ways of our sect. You will face countless trials ahead."

"Third Apostle, listen carefully."

The Seventh Apostle's face turned expressionless, and waves of energy burst forth from her body, as if in a fit of convulsion.

"Your offspring is no vessel for the Young Cult Leader. Do not envy him."

"What a cliche."

It was the voice of the Third Apostle.

He gestured lazily, causing his long, white hair to ripple slightly, as if alive.

Whoosh.

A faint, chilly breeze swept through.

The oppressive aura that had filled the hall dissipated in an instant.

Even the sharp and sinister energy characteristic of the Seventh Apostle vanished without a trace.

It was a technique so refined that it was impossible to discern its intricacies.

Suddenly, Jung Yeonshin felt a tight grip on his wrist.

The Seventh Apostle's hand, which held his sleeve, had grown tense.

"First."

Under the Cult Leader's protection, the Third Apostle spoke slowly.

"I must experience your martial arts firsthand. With so many rumors and the Seventh Apostle enthralled by you, it is only right that I confirm them. It is a basic formality."

"Your affairs are complicated. Let's get it over with."

No one showed anger at Jung Yeonshin's response.

The upper ranks of the Blood Flame Cult were as tranquil as a still pond.

No matter how distorted their direction, each had clearly honed themselves through rigorous training.

Beyond martial arts, their very presence was enough to inspire fear.

"There's no need for lengthy talk. Come."

The Third Apostle extended an arm.

Buzz!

From his palm, the energy of the Blood Arts surged forth.

Faint crimson currents began to layer and form a circular barrier.

It was not the force of a palm strike.

Rather than a combination of technique and energy, it was a wall created purely with internal power.

'Defense and offense in one.'

Jung Yeonshin grasped the nature of his technique.

A storm of razor-sharp energy whipped through the air—a gale of murderous intent driven by internal power.

It might have been inferior to combining internal energy with physical strikes, but it was still an unreal feat.

"Your control over energy has reached a level worthy of the world's attention."

"A mere outcast from the Desolate Fortress stands at a level only seen among those clad in black."

The onlookers could not hide their admiration.

Jung Yeonshin quietly observed the barrier formed at a distance.

The Seventh Apostle whispered in his ear,

"This is the test given to our successors before they are promoted to Blood Master Swordsmans. Even surviving one breath earns them an elixir."

"What happens if I shatter it?"

Jung Yeonshin asked calmly.

Whoosh.

He stepped forward, channeling his Demon-Slaying Azure Steel Palm.

A wave of clear energy emanated from his raised right hand.

He did not drag it out. Forming a sharp strike, he brought it down on the barrier.

Crash!

In an instant, red waves of energy swept through the surroundings.

The strike, shimmering with a blue glow, pierced the wall of internal energy built to an extreme degree.

It unraveled completely in the blink of an eye.

As the crimson storm dispersed, a brief silence followed.

"If that truly is a martial art you created yourself…"

The Third Apostle spoke.

"You are indeed a dangerous man."

He took a step back.

Despite his retreat, the sharp look on his face did not waver.

Jung Yeonshin immediately noticed that some sinister scheme was lurking within the Apostle's mind.

At that moment, the Blood Flame Cult Leader opened his mouth.

"Such skill and mastery of energy manipulation."

"······?"

"It seems there is no cause for concern."

As he spoke, the atmosphere in the hall shifted.

Even the Apostles lowered their heads like devotees listening to a sermon.

"To learn supreme martial arts from formulas alone? If that were possible, great sects would have no need to judge their disciples by talent."

"······."

"Your martial techniques go further. I sense an independent interpretation of divine law in your methods. Internal energy gains specific properties not only because of varied circulation paths but also through intent. That is why a teacher is essential."

The Blood Flame Cult Leader smiled, as though he were Jung Yeonshin's mentor.

'He's not wrong.'

Jung Yeonshin silently agreed.

The Seventh Apostle had already told him so when he took her eye.

She had said that even a trace of divine power made martial arts difficult to master.

Only those born with extraordinary talent could train in it.

If divine martial arts were easy to learn, the Blood Flame Cult would have been wiped out long ago.

She was right, no one else had managed to master it.

Jung Yeonshin was no fool.

Naturally, he had created manuals and passed them to the Desolate Fortress.

The Demon-Slaying Azure Steel Palm was a rare ascendant martial art that yielded great results.

But the last report he heard dampened his pride, none of the grandmasters had succeeded in entering its foundational stages.

"You were the only issue…"

The Blood Flame Cult Leader smiled faintly.

"And yet here you are, within our sect."

"······."

"You overcame the trial with exceptional skill. A reward is in order. Bring it."

At his clap, an attendant stepped forward.

The cautious footsteps suggested a servant.

Carrying a box draped in golden silk high above his head, the servant knelt and presented it.

The Blood Flame Cult Leader opened the box and took out a crimson pill.

"What is it?"

Jung Yeonshin asked calmly.

At the same time, an unusual aura emanated from the Cult Leader.

It was not normal.

As he slightly raised his elegant chin, a captivating energy exploded forth.

There were countless rumors about the Blood Flame Cult Leader.

It was said he bit into victims' necks, draining their energy and blood.

And yet, they often died smiling.

The Blood Flame Cult Leader curled his lips into a mesmerizing smile and said,

"It is poison that narrows the blood vessels. It is the secret art of our sect."

His smile carried a demonic allure, enough to enchant anyone.