Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 130 - Battle Demon
Chapter 130 – Battle Demon
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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Edited by Celestial Knight
Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net
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Three months ago, Hainan Island.
It was around the time Cho Yu-gyeong… the ‘First Wave’ of the South Sea Wanderers’ Society Association… had just departed Hainan for his participation in the Ascending Dragon Assembly.
Along a sheer coastal cliff, there lay a massive cavern whose entrance was subtly concealed from view.
The surrounding waters were a natural formation; dozens of reefs jutted out like sharp fangs, and the currents were so treacherous that no one could navigate them without knowing the safe path.
A small sailboat rode the currents, fluttering strangely as it threaded its way between the jagged reefs.
The man aboard was performing only the most minimal rowing, yet the boat glided forward as if sliding on ice. He clearly knew the safe passage through this labyrinthine formation.
Before long, the sailboat vanished into the gaping maw of the cavern, which looked like a jagged scar upon the cliff face.
“You have delivered the shipment on schedule once again.”
A large man, appearing to be in his late twenties, spoke as he nodded. He was the one who had just arrived at the South Sea Wanderers’ Society Association’s stronghold via the sailboat.
“Yes, of course. How could I dare do otherwise?”
A man whose face was etched with deep wrinkles replied, bowing his head repeatedly in a display of subservience.
The younger man silently observed the contents of the wooden box he had received from the elder. Inside, layers of dried lotus petals were stacked neatly… every single one of them a deep, blood-red hue.
The Blood Lotus.
This was the method used by the Cradle of the Demonic Path to extract the innate true energy from commoners.
The Blood Lotus is a plant native to Tianzhu and the Southern Barbarian lands… a monstrous entity that feeds on blood to grow. Its nickname, the Chaos Blossom, comes from the fact that it is said to bloom profusely across the battlefields of turbulent eras.
One gathers the vital blood of commoners and feeds it to the Blood Lotus. Once the plant blooms, its petals… now brimming with stolen life force… are harvested.
These petals are the primary ingredient for Vital Blood Pills.
Fortunately, the workshop at the Vajra Pavilion in Sichuan, which had recently collapsed, had completed its harvest just in time. There had been no loss of Blood Lotus, as the disaster had occurred just before the period of seed distribution.
The mid- and low-grade Vital Blood Pills produced through this method were released into the Jianghu to sow chaos or used as bribes for various operations. The high-grade pills, however, were offered to the Venerables of the Cradle of the Demonic Path, to be used as ingredients for something even higher.
Of course, the man did not know exactly what that ‘something higher’ was. Even as a direct disciple of one of the Venerables, he did not have the clearance to know such secrets.
After a brief moment of reflection, the man closed the lid of the box.
“Hm.”
His eyes… as fierce and glaring as a tiger’s… swept over the old man.
“Is… is there something displeasing, Young Master?”
This old man had once been a meritorious official who helped the founding emperor, Taizu, establish this nation. Though his martial prowess was no longer what it once was, his accumulated experience was formidable.
Yet, he now stood trembling pathetically before a man four or five times his junior.
The younger man had broad shoulders and a bushy beard. His eyebrows slanted upward as if in a permanent state of craving combat. He looked for all the world like a reincarnation of the ancient Hegemon-King of Chu.
His large mouth opened slowly.
“The Venerables have granted their permission.”
“Wh-what kind of permission…?”
“The quota of vital blood from young boys and girls has been entirely filled by this shipment. The South Sea Wanderers’ Society Association has served its purpose.”
“…!”
“Therefore, the disciples of the Taowu lineage are permitted to use them as sacrifices for their ‘combat cultivation’.”
“Y-Young Master!”
“I bear no personal grudge against you. It simply cannot be helped. I cannot grow stronger without life-or-death battles. In any case… I am glad for the chance to witness the old military martial arts of the founders. It is truly pleasing.”
The man’s eyes began to gleam like those of a predatory beast. A raw, unrefined spirit poured out from him in waves.
Before long, nine other old men had appeared, surrounding the man in a tight perimeter.
… Chachachachang!
In unison, they assumed a strange opening stance.
The Nanhai Thirty-six Sword (남해삼십육검).
It was the ultimate art that the elders of the South Sea Wanderers’ Society Association had devoted their twilight years to perfecting. They had always anticipated that the Cradle of the Demonic Path might one day betray them, and despite the suddenness of the attack, they were fully prepared to respond.
In addition to the elders, young assassins began to swarm out from every corner of the cavern, exuding killing intent as they gripped their weapons.
“…Interesting.”
… Ssweong!
Two cavalry sabers were drawn from the man’s back.
His face was already grotesquely twisted with a terrifying longing for struggle and blood. A bestial roar erupted from his throat.
“You old men who have lost your former glory! Burn your final embers and grant me a struggle I need not be ashamed of!”
A thick, dark red began to swirl into the seawater that surged through the cavern.
* * *
Of the Jiangnan Coalition martial artists who had advanced to the Round of 16, none remained… save for Cho Yu-gyeong.
However, it was true that many of them had managed to pass the group stages only because of the Coalition’s unity. Thanks to that, even those who weren’t among the elite had been able to showcase their skills in the main competition and earn invitations from reputable sects and families.
Usually, in the Ascending Dragon Assembly, martial artists from the regions south of the Yangtze River… where unorthodox sects held sway… rarely gained much recognition.
But now, a significant number of these Jiangnan warriors had been invited to join major merchant groups or prestigious families. Even a three-year-old child could see that this was the result of the Coalition making their path through the team matches so much easier.
As a result, the North Gate Inn, where the members of the Jiangnan Coalition were staying, was currently in a festive mood.
Cho Yu-gyeong had defeated a Mount Hua Sect martial artist in the Round of 16, securing his place in the quarterfinals. The name of the ‘Sleeping Dragon of Hainan’ was rising to ever-greater heights. Even the great families that held high positions within the imperial court were beginning to reach out to him.
“To the ‘Sleeping Dragon of Hainan’! Let us pray for Great Hero Cho’s ultimate victory! Cheers!”
A boisterous martial artist shouted as he raised his cup. Cho Yu-gyeong’s title had evolved from ‘Young Hero’ to ‘Young Master,’ and now, finally, to ‘Great Hero.’
Cho Yu-gyeong possessed a natural charisma that drew people to his side. More importantly, every martial artist in the Jiangnan Coalition owed him a debt of gratitude for their advancement to the main competition. Had he not formed the Coalition, they would have likely been crushed by the interference of the Northern martial artists before they could even make a name for themselves.
Under normal circumstances, those who had already been eliminated and received invitations from other sects would have packed their bags and left immediately. The cost of lodging in Anqing during the Assembly was exorbitant.
However, these men insisted on staying until Cho Yu-gyeong either won the entire tournament or was eliminated.
It wasn’t just to cheer him on.
“Even that ‘Mad Dragon’ fellow… the one they call the Mud Dragon… was targeted by the Seven Sects and Three Families with dirty tricks, wasn’t he? If they did that to him, who knows what they might try against Great Hero Cho, who is dozens of times more outstanding!”
They were referring to the hidden strike Ju-seong had suffered at the hands of the Peng family. They had collectively resolved to stay and guard Cho Yu-gyeong so that no such misfortune would befall him.
It was truly a remarkable display of loyalty.
Cho Yu-gyeong felt a surge of warmth in his chest as he raised his cup high.
It wasn’t about subjugating people through force. It was about naturally revealing one’s qualities to become a leader, guiding others perfectly, and receiving their genuine respect.
‘If a man is born into this world, he should taste this feeling at least once.’
Cho Yu-gyeong murmured the thought to himself before shouting grandly.
“To think that my Jiangnan friends would hold this humble Cho in such high regard… I hardly know how to express my gratitude. Regardless, I shall cover the entire cost of tonight’s banquet, so please, eat and drink to your heart’s content!”
Cho Yu-gyeong was currently experiencing the most prosperous period of his life. As his fame grew, gifts from various sects, families, and merchant guilds continued to pour in.
Soon, the inn was filled with the sounds of boisterous laughter and the clinking of cups.
But then…
… Hwik!
For a fleeting second, a shadow flickered past the first-floor window.
Cho Yu-gyeong frowned. Was it the alcohol, or was his madness finally beginning to surface?
Ever since he had decided to betray the elders of Hainan Island, his mind had not been at ease. Every day, he felt as though he were stepping closer to the brink of insanity.
‘This is not good.’
If he continued like this, his performance in the matches would surely suffer.
Suddenly…
… Deolgeok!
A massive man wearing a wide bamboo hat pushed open the door of the inn and stepped inside.
“Hm?”
The weighty, oppressive aura exuding from the mysterious guest caused the laughter of the Jiangnan Coalition members to slowly die down as their attention focused on him.
“…Who are you, friend?”
One of the martial artists, his face flushed with drink, stepped forward and asked. The stranger tilted his bamboo hat lower to conceal his face and spoke in a quiet, low voice.
“Cho Yu-gyeong, the ‘First Wave’ of the South Sea Wanderers’ Society Association. Where is he?”
“…”
The inn fell into an immediate, heavy silence.
The South Sea Wanderers’ Society Association? Wasn’t that a notorious demonic sect?
Cho Yu-gyeong had entered the Assembly under the pretense of being a successor to an obscure, one-person lineage. Such participants were common at every Assembly… martial artists from the unorthodox path seeking a place in the North, or disciples of sects that were difficult to acknowledge openly. The Martial Alliance generally turned a blind eye to them.
In truth, the members of the Jiangnan Coalition had also half-suspected that Cho Yu-gyeong might be from an unorthodox sect. But the man in the bamboo hat had just blurted out what everyone else had been tacitly ignoring.
One martial artist jumped to his feet and strode over to the stranger.
“Who do you think you are, slandering Great Hero Cho by linking his name to some wicked demonic sect? Every hero in this room owes a debt to Great Hero Cho. If you continue to let your tongue wag so recklessly, do you think you’ll be able to leave this place with your head still attached to your shoulders?”
It was a bold, masculine warning… a clear signal that they didn’t care about Cho Yu-gyeong’s past and that the stranger should leave if he knew what was good for him.
The man in the bamboo hat shrugged his shoulders slightly.
“It seems he already has dogs willing to bark on his behalf. I suppose a man who spent his entire life cooped up on Hainan Island would know how to win people over. How curious. Let’s see… do you handle blades as well as you handle people?”
“What did you… ”
The martial artist who had stepped forward barely had time to doubt his own ears.
… Ssweongdung!
Two cavalry sabers crossed like the savage mandibles of a beetle, and the martial artist’s head was cleanly harvested from his neck.
As the man drew the sabers from his back, the motion caused his bamboo hat to fall away.
The face revealed beneath it was the very embodiment of a martial fanatic. With slanting eyebrows, a broad jaw, and shoulders like a mountain, his presence was overwhelming. The sight of him wielding those two massive sabers was enough to make one’s knees tremble.
… Tatatak!
Light footsteps raced across the long dining table.
Surprisingly, the first to charge forward was Cho Yu-gyeong. There are times when a leader must be the first to act, and this was one of those times.
He had realized within a single exchange that this was an opponent they might not defeat even if everyone in the inn attacked at once. Thus, he had to be the one to face him, creating an atmosphere that would prevent the others from fleeing in terror.
The Nanhai Thirty-six Sword unfolded from Cho Yu-gyeong’s hands.
A first strike that surged forward like a tidal wave, subtly tilted. A second strike that sliced diagonally upward like a waterspout. And finally, with a swift twist of the wrist, a thrust that came from a blind angle like a harpoon aimed at a whale.
Normally, an opponent would struggle to block the off-kilter first move, leaving their balance disrupted; the second move, flowing like the wind, would leave them exposed; and the third move would pierce their heart.
But the man before him did not blink. He parried all three techniques.
… Ssweong!
He deflected the first strike with an equally tilted blade.
… Kkang!
He parried the diagonal slash with an honest, powerful downward stroke.
… Kwang!
Then, an abrupt front kick slammed into Cho Yu-gyeong’s chest.
“Kk-hu-uk!”
Caught completely off guard by the sudden kick, Cho Yu-gyeong was sent flying, smashing through a table and tumbling across the floor.
‘He is truly a Battle Demon.’
To switch from a saber technique to a kick in such a critical moment… his combat instincts were fluid and absolute.
Cho Yu-gyeong felt a chill run down his spine.
The members of the Jiangnan Coalition rushed forward to block the man’s path.
“He’s a monster! Hold the line and defend until Great Hero Cho can recover!”
“Stop him!”
The man raised both of his cavalry sabers above his head, a grotesque grin carved into his face.
“Come! Give me at least a little amusement!”
* * *
“I think it’s about time I had a proper word with that Cho fellow.”
Ju-seong had made his decision. Red Beggar asked him in disbelief.
“Suddenly? Why now?”
Ju-seong nodded.
“The scent of children’s blood that was clinging to his clothes, and the assassins who came after me while I was unconscious…”
Naturally, Ju-seong had assumed Cho had sent those assassins. But when he had confronted the man in the waiting room on the first day, Cho’s heartbeat had remained perfectly steady. He had shown none of the signs of a liar.
‘I suspected his memory might be the problem, but his actions since then haven’t quite fit that theory either.’
Above all, Cho’s eyes weren’t the eyes of someone who had completely lost themselves to evil. They were the eyes of a man walking a precarious line between light and darkness.
‘I’ve seen so many eyes like those.’
The bandit chief Deung-pyeong on Diancang Mountain, the street thug Dong-sam in Chengdu, the branch leader Cheong-rang of the Ten Thousand Ears Gang… even Ju-seong himself and his master, the Divine Physician.
Ju-seong was familiar with such eyes.
This was why he had decided to rethink the scent of blood he had detected on Cho. Sometimes, knowing too much could lead a person to the wrong conclusion. Ju-seong realized that his keen sense of smell might have actually led him to a deeper misunderstanding.
If there was a misunderstanding, it had to be cleared. Misunderstandings were like monsters; they fed on time and grew until they gave birth to hatred and conflict.
He wanted to talk to the man before that happened.
“Where did you say he was staying? I think I heard he and his followers rented out an inn near the North Gate.”
Red Beggar sighed and nodded.
“I’ll go with you. It might be dangerous.”
“Really? Should we bring Chun-mong along too?”
“Let the greenhorn youngest stay behind. Just us.”